Dead Broke
Chapter 1
My troubles really began when Amelia half-smiled at me across the breakfast table one cold Sunday afternoon. I was already wearing my black pants and white polo tee shirt with Merlotte's embroidered over the left breast. I had to work the lunch shift, just for a few hours. I hated working Sundays because they were so slow, and the tips were pretty sad, but Holly had filled in for me last Monday, and I couldn't leave Sam hanging. I put my coffee cup down and glared at Amelia. I knew it was something bad, and I knew that if I let my guard down, she'd broadcast whatever she was about to say.
"Just spit it out, already." I grumbled. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.
"I'm going back to New Orleans for awhile." Amelia frowned.
"Oh." I grunted. Things had been tough these last few weeks. The price of gas had gone up, and my new-to-me car had started making those engine noises. You know, the noises that make you wonder if you'll make it to work.
"Yeah. I'll be back though. I'm going to be gone this whole month so I thought…"
"If you aren't living here, you don't have to pay rent. It's not like I have to save a space for you or something."
"I really appreciate that Sookie. I mean, I have to do a lot of work on the property…"
"It's fine. Really." It wasn't fine, but it would have to be. I could make do without my witchy roommate. I didn't have much of a choice anyway.
"I'm just packing up the rest of my things and I'll be heading out on Friday after work." I would be at the bar. She wasn't even saying goodbye. I could understand that. Goodbyes were pretty tough.
"Do you want me to take Mops?" Amelia was asking. I blinked. Mops was our black and orange calico kitten. We'd adopted her from the Shreveport Animal Shelter a few weeks after Bob turned back into a man. It was nice having a pet, especially since my out of state trips had tapered off.
"No, that's okay. It'd be hard for her to get used to a new space for a short time."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Amelia got up from the table and sipped up the last of her tea. "Thanks for being so understanding, Sookie."
"Sure." Understanding, my ass! What the heck was I going to do without Amelia's rent check this month?!
Merlotte's was eerily quiet, even for a Sunday afternoon. Maybe it was just too cold to go out to eat. I had blustered in the employee door at three minutes to eleven. Sam didn't look up from his accounts, but he murmured a greeting when I hung my red coat (a gift from Eric) on the rack.
"Hey Sam," I said as I walked by his office door and out into the restaurant. I turned on all the lights and put out place settings. For an hour, the little bell on the front door was completely silent.
"Sookie, I was wondering if you could take a few extra hours," Sam said as he stepped behind the bar. He was glancing from the work schedule to the supply list. Sunday was a day for bookkeeping.
"You bet!" I squeaked, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
"Good. There's this new girl starting next month. Her name is Jessica. She just moved into town. Anyway, she can't start until the first and you know Holly just cut back a lot of her hours. I think I have about three shifts for you if you can handle it."
"Absolutely! I'll take them." I was definitely bouncing up and down now. Three full shifts a week for a month! Of course, that meant I was at the bar every day, without a day off. Eric would be all grouchy. Too bad, though! I needed to work more than I needed to have sex with the beautiful blond Viking. I thought about that for a minute. Well, it was only a month. I'd gone twenty-five years without sex. I could go a month.
Maybe I could squeeze him in after the bar closed.
"…can handle that Sookie?" Sam was still talking, and I'd missed half of what he'd said. I tried not to stare at him blankly. I nodded my head. I was pretty sure he was asking me if I could handle a seven day work week. I definitely could. I didn't really have a choice. I needed the extra pay now that Amelia was leaving.
The afternoon shift meandered by, and I had one table of midday beer drinkers. The men, men I didn't recognize offhand, complained about my non-standard uniform. I told them that when the weather warmed up a little, I'd be back in my shorts and tee shirt. We gabbed a little about the unseasonable cold (it was about 45˚ outside even though it was March) and they tipped me about a third of their bill (which was sweet but still less than five dollars), and then they left. I spent the rest of the shift wiping down tables and making new place settings. Sam sent me home at four.
My car started sputtering as I drove back across Bon Temps to the farmhouse near the cemetery. The temperature had dropped again, and I found myself turning up the heat in the roomy Malibu. The engine made a gasping, muttering wheeze as I neared the gravel drive up to the house.
"Please don't die honey! I'll turn off the heat!" I whimpered as I shut off the vents. The engine gurgled and wheezed again. "It's just a little further!" Gurgle. Grumble. Wheeze. Cough.
And then the engine died. I sat in front of the mail box in my deceased vehicle. I remembered looking at my bank statement the day before. I had about three dollars in my savings account, and fifteen dollars in my checking account. Even with my next paycheck, I couldn't afford to get the car fixed. I'd have to start taking the little city bus that ran through Bon Temps every other hour. Great.
I shoved open the door and fell out of the car. It was bitter outside and thick black clouds had blotted out the evening sun.
"Fantastic," I muttered as I dug into the mailbox. I pulled out a handful of bills, including one past due notice. I'd spent all my life being poor, living paycheck to paycheck. But you see, you never really get used to that kind of life. After several jobs raking in big checks while working for vampires, I was too used to the good life to remember being poor. I hadn't had a call for a job since the Queen of Louisiana had died, and the King of Nevada had taken over.
It took awhile to walk down the long gravel driveway and up to the house. Amelia was standing in the living room, hanging underwear on the staircase banister. The clothes were sopping wet and dripping on my dingy hardwood floor.
"There's something wrong with the dryer. I'm pretty sure it barked at me."
"What, like a dog?" I blinked.
"Like an appliance that has given up on life and started early retirement."
"Great." I screwed up my mouth in a scowl. Outside, the sky crackled.
"Also, the washer sort of flooded the porch."
I stared at Amelia for several minutes. I was pretty sure there were tears welling up in my eyes. Those appliances were almost new! Well, I mean, they were new to me. I'd cut a couple of corners on the kitchen and deck after the fire, and I'd traded the pretty new washer and dryer for slightly used ones and a little extra cash. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
"My car broke down out by the mailbox." I said. I looked out the back door at the closed in porch. The firewood was swimming in about six inches of soapy, grayish washing water.
"Aw, Sook," Amelia sighed. She touched my shoulder. Her thoughts flooded my head. She was begging me not to ask her for the rent to fix the machines. She was hoping that the Keds she'd stuck in the dryer hadn't been the cause of the belching, fuming cough she'd witnessed seconds before the washer flooded. I sighed and stepped away from her, toward the bedroom. I needed a nap.
It was dark out when I woke up. I rolled over and looked at the glowing green numbers on my digital alarm clock. It was four minutes passed eight. My stomach rumbled, and a bolt of lightning lit up my window. I could hear rain pattering on the roof. I tried to remember whether or not Eric had made a date to come over. I wasn't sure I could stand another conscious presence, even if I couldn't read his thoughts.
On the other hand, he always seemed to make me feel better when he was around. It was all about that blood bond thing. It brought instant happiness. I could use some of that right now.
In the living room, the answering machine light was blinking. I touched the play button as I walked into the kitchen to rustle up some dinner. Hm, condensed tomato soup or condensed chicken noodle soup. Exciting!
"Sookie," Eric. I already felt a pang of resentment. If he was calling, he wasn't coming. "I cannot make it to Bon Temps this evening. I have a meeting with the King. He is visiting Shreveport. I will call you tomorrow evening when you finish work. I miss you, my lover. Good night." The machine beeped. Sam's voice filled the room.
"Sookie, this is Sam." Hi Sam. "I wondered if you could pull a double tomorrow for Danielle. Her daughter has some kind of stomach virus. You sounded pretty excited about extra shifts. Call me back."
I poured the condensed store-brand tomato soup into a bowl. It dropped out of the can in a cylindrical mass of orange goo. Tasty. I read Amelia's note, pinned to the fridge, while the soup heated up in the microwave. Amelia was leaving on Tuesday instead of Friday, and she was very sorry about my car and the washer-dryer. She had pinned a fifty dollar bill to the note to help with the repairs, and she had gone out for the night to "give you and your Viking some privacy!"
"Well, I suppose it can't get any worse." I sighed as I sat down at the table.
Famous last words, right?
I went back to bed after watching a little television. Amelia stomped in, shut the front door, and clomped up the stairs. I guessed she'd noticed the absence of Eric's red sports car. The rain was really coming down, and I almost felt at peace listening to it. Or I was at peace until I heard this violent ringing crash. I stumbled down the dark hallway, not bothering to flick on the lights. Amelia was stomping down the stairs, casting aside still damp underthings as she slid her hand along the banister.
"What the hell was that?!" Amelia yelled in that garbled groggy way common among the sleepy.
"Hell if I know," I growled. I threw open the front door. The rain gutter had ripped free and fallen against the porch. There was a growing puddle forming underneath it.
"Oh come on!"