Lots of people helped me assemble this companion, and I tried to thank all of them in the acknowledgments. But let me just say here that without the help of my assistant and best buddy, Paula Woldan, I would have torn out my hair and cast myself upon the floor in despair at a few points. So thanks, Paula, and I think I had some of the most fun ever drawing the map with you.
I’m sure the second
The Sookie Stackhouse Companion
is on the shelves, I’ll think of something I should have included, but it’s time to let this project go. I hope you all find something in the book to entertain, enlighten, and engross you.
See you in Bon Temps.
—Charlaine Harris
Small-Town Wedding
BY CHARLAINE HARRIS
There are a lot of people to thank, for a relatively short work! I forgot to mention my CSI niece Danielle, who helped me on a previous piece; so here’s to you, Dani! And Ivan Van Laningham offered me help on that same piece. My college buddy, Dr. Ed Uthman. Victoria Koski, my continuity queen, who struggles against my tide of fuzzy thinking. And the many people who were kind enough to help me attempt to pronounce Dutch: Geja Topper, Dave Bennett, Hans Bekkers, Jochem Steen, Leighton Gage, Sarah Bewley, and Simon Wood. And Duane Swierczynski, who is standing by to help me dispose of a body.
CHAPTER ONE
I
t was May, I had a great tan, and I was going on a road trip, leaving vampire politics behind. I felt better than I had in a long time. Wearing only my underwear, I stood in my sunny bedroom and went down my checklist.
1. Give Eric and Jason address and dates
I’d done that. My boyfriend, Eric Northman, vampire sheriff of Area Five of Louisiana, had all the information he needed. So did my brother, Jason.
2. Ask Bill to watch house
Okay. I’d left a letter pushed under my neighbor Bill Compton’s door. He’d find it when he rose for the night. His “sister” Judith (sired by the same vampire) was still staying at his place. If Bill could tear himself away from her company, he would walk across the cemetery separating our properties to have a look at my house, and he’d get my mail and my newspaper and put them on my front porch.
3. Call Tara
I’d done that; my pregnant friend Tara reported all was well with the twins she was carrying, and she’d call or get her husband to call if there was any news. She wasn’t due for three more months. But twins, right? You never knew.
4. Bank
I’d deposited my last paycheck and gotten more cash than I usually carried.
5. Claude and Dermot
My cousin and my great-uncle had decided to stay at Claude’s house in Monroe while I was gone. Claude had been living with me for about a month, and Dermot had joined him only two weeks ago, so Dermot said he still felt funny being in my house without me there. Claude, of course, had no such qualms, since he’s about as sensitive as a sheet of sandpaper, but Dermot had carried the day.
All my clothes were clean, and I thought I was packed. Though it would be a good idea to review my packing list, which was completely separate from my “things to do” list. Since my friend and boss, Sam Merlotte, had invited me to go with him to his brother’s wedding, I’d been in a nervous tizzy about forgetting something essential and somehow making Sam look bad in front of his family.
I had borrowed a pretty dress, sleeveless and blue, like my eyes, to wear to the wedding, and I had some black pumps with three-inch heels that were in great condition. For everything else, I packed the best and newest of my casual clothes: two pairs of good shorts, an extra pair of jeans. I threw in a yellow and gray skirt outfit, just in case.
I counted my underwear, made sure I had the right bras, and checked the little jewelry pouch to be sure my gran’s pearls were there. I shut the bag, triumphant. I’d done my best to cover every contingency,
and
I’d fit everything into a hanging bag and a weekender bag.
Just as I reopened the bag to make sure I’d included my blow-dryer, I heard Sam’s truck coming up the driveway that wound through the woods. In thirty seconds I pulled on my khaki shorts and a very thin white tank top with a teal tank layered over it. I had a little gold chain on, and I slid my feet into my new sandals. My toenails were a happy pink (“Run Run Rosy”). I felt great. I hurried to the front door and opened it just as Sam was about to knock.
He was wearing his usual jeans and Merlotte’s Bar and Grill T-shirt, but he was sporting ancient cowboy boots. Yep, we were going to Texas, all right. His red gold hair was shorter these days, and I could tell he’d taken special care shaving.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” he said. “I had to give Kennedy and Terry some extra instructions.” The two substitute bartenders were going to be in charge while Sam was gone, and Sam was pretty nervous about it.
“No problem. I’m ready.” He picked up my overnighter while I got my hanging bag and locked the door behind me. Luckily, Sam’s pickup had an extended cab, and we were able to put our clothes on the backseat.
“You looking forward to this?” I asked him, when we were on the interstate. We were going across the state line from Louisiana into Texas to a small town called Wright, south of the interstate past Dallas, where Sam’s folks had settled after his dad got out of the service.
“This is the first nice thing that’s happened in my family in months, and for a while I didn’t think this wedding would ever come off,” he said. “I really appreciate your going with me.”
“Are they putting pressure on you to get married?” I should have realized before that there might be another reason Sam wanted me to accompany him, something beyond the pleasure of my company. Some women have long careers as bridesmaids; I had a long career of being a pretend girlfriend. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a perpetual pattern.
“That might be overstating it,” Sam said. He grinned at me. “But my mom and my sister sure are ready for me to show them I’m thinking about the subject. Of course, the shifters going public and my mom’s troubles kind of put my own marital status on the back burner.”
The Weres had revealed their existence on television a few months before, following the vampire model. Many of the other two-natured (or “twoeys,” as the pop-culture magazines had immediately started calling them) had shown themselves at the same time. Oddly, the American public seemed to be more upset about the werewolves and werepanthers living among them than they’d been when they found out vampires were real.
“Does your mom try to set you up with nice shifter girls all the time?”
“So far she hasn’t been able to find another pure shifter like me, though my sister, Mindy, told me Mom had gone online trying to track one down.” Sam could turn into anything: lion, dog, raccoon. His kind was pretty rare.
“Gosh. Are you sure you shouldn’t have brought Jannalynn? She may not be exactly who your family wants you to bring home—at least, that’s what you said—but she’s a werewolf, and that’s better than a human like me, right? At least to your mom. If your mom’s looking for a woman for you online, that’s kind of . . . desperate, huh?”
Sam laughed. “Definitely. But Mom means well. She was really happy with my dad, and their first date was a setup. If she can find an unattached female shifter the right age, she’s hoping lightning will strike twice in the Merlotte family.”
“You told me that you’d almost gotten married once.”
“Yeah, when I was in the army. She was a good ol’ girl, regular human. My dad would have liked her. But it just didn’t work out.”
I wanted to ask why, but I knew it was none of my business.
He asked, “You think you and Eric might get married now that it’s legal?”
I started to tell him we were married already, according to my big blond vampire boyfriend, but decided it would be better to skip that discussion entirely.
“He hasn’t asked me,” I said, which was the truth. He hadn’t asked me about the vampire marriage rite, either. I’d handed him a ceremonial knife in front of a witness without asking a single question, which proves how little sense I could have when I was around Eric.
As the miles carried me away from Eric, the bond between us stretched but did not break. Eric was a silent presence. Miles of Texas interstate rolled by, and though I knew Eric was in his bed, dead to the world, I couldn’t help thinking about him. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it would have been if he’d been awake, though.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Sam said.
I jumped because my thoughts weren’t family-rated at that moment.
“I was hoping Bill recovers from the silver poisoning. I found a vampire sibling of his, and I got her to come visit. He’d told me if he got some blood from a sib, it would really help him heal.”
Sam looked a little nonplussed. “How’d you do that?” he asked.
When I told him how I’d tracked Judith down, he shook his head. “How’d you know he wouldn’t get mad at you?”
“I was doing it for
him
,” I said, not understanding Sam’s point. “Why would he get mad?”
Sam said gently, “Sook, Bill obviously knew where this Judith was, and he didn’t call her on his own. He must have had a reason.”
I knew that. But I’d gone ahead and contacted her anyway. I’d only thought about how worried I was about Bill. I could feel myself tearing up. I didn’t want to admit to Sam that he was right.
I looked out the window so Sam wouldn’t have to watch my eyes brim over.
“Sook?” he said, and from his voice I could tell he had leaned forward to try to see my face. “Sook? Hey, I’m sorry. Listen, I was just blowing hot air. You were watching out for him, and I’m probably just jealous.”
I could read his mind enough to know he wasn’t being entirely truthful—but he did sincerely want me to feel better, and he was truly sorry I was upset. “You’re right,” I said, though my voice wobbled in a pathetic way. “Sam, you’re absolutely right. I’ve made so many mistakes.”
“Don’t we all? I’ve made more than a few, and I don’t seem to stop making them,” Sam said, and there was bitterness in his voice.
“Okay. We’re both human; we got that settled,” I said, making myself smile. “Or, at least, we’re mostly human.”
He laughed, and I felt better. I rummaged around in my purse for a Kleenex and patted my eyes carefully to keep my makeup intact. I got a Coca-Cola out of the ice chest behind Sam’s seat and popped it open for him, and got myself one, too. We talked about the sorry season the Bon Temps Hawks baseball team was having, and I told Sam about watching the softball team practice the week before. I felt good when I was confident everything was back to normal between us.
When we stopped to get gas outside Dallas, I watched a black Ford Focus shoot by. “That’s funny,” I said to Sam, who was punching his PIN into the pump. “That’s the same car I saw when we pulled over to find out what that noise was.” A branch had caught under the truck and had been making an alarming
whap-whap-whap
.
Sam glanced up. “Huh,” he said. “Well, the interstate is always busy, and the Focus is a popular model.”
“This is the same one,” I said. “There’s a place on the driver’s side of the windshield where a rock hit.”