Opposites Attract

Chapter 7: Who Are You?

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just having fun playing with a different pair for a while.

A/N:

I've been saying this for seven weeks now, but thanks so much for taking this journey with me. I'm so excited each week by your love of Tray and Amelia! So glad that ya'll love them as much as I do - and that I've managed to convert some of you to Tray fans!

As always, thanks to ARedheadThing and ETheHunter friendship and support. I just thought about this - the three of us span the U.S...ARedheadThing is on the East Coast, I'm pretty much in the middle of the country (East/West wise), and ETheHunter is on the West Coast. Kind of crazy and completely awesome that we could all connect in cyberspace and become good friends and do this fic thing together. Thanks for everything girls!

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"Ugh. Tray, who's back there giving me the evil eye?"

"What?" he sounded surprised.

"Back there." She angled her head, and though she wanted to describe the woman as the trashy skank, she resisted. "Cranky looking woman with dark hair. Badly in need of a bra."

His eyes hardened as he realized who she was talking about. He groaned and shook his head. "Fucking Debbie Pelt."

They sat down at the table with their desserts, and Amelia looked at Tray expectantly, waiting for more information.

Tray sighed and looked at his uncle. "Why is Debbie here?"

"What? Deb Pelt?" Uncle Calvin waved his hand. "You know I'm friends with her daddy. She must have come with him."

"You know what she did to Alcide," Tray quipped. "Now she's standing back there giving me and Amelia dirty looks."

"She thinks it's your fault," Cherise chimed in.

"How is it my fault?" Tray sounded irritated. "She cheated on him over and over. I'm just the one who told him."

Amelia listened, a little bit surprised. From the way Debbie had been looking at her, Amelia would have guessed that she was Tray's ex, not Alcide's. She hadn't met Alcide yet, but if Debbie was any indication of what he was like, she wasn't sure she wanted to meet him anymore. And she was suddenly not as excited that Tray had a cousin who lived in New Orleans for them to spend time with.

"Well, it's not your fault," Cherise laughed. "She thought Alcide was her meal ticket and got the rug pulled out from under her, so she's grasping at straws."

Tray looked over his shoulder, and Debbie was still standing there sipping a beer and giving him the evil eye. He turned towards Amelia, who was quietly eating some fresh fruit. He sighed in exasperation. "Shit. I'm going to talk to her."

Amelia gently grabbed his wrist and stilled him as he started to stand. She gave a small head shake. "Don't. That's what she wants."

"She's making you uncomfortable," he said quietly.

"I'll be more uncomfortable if she starts shit with you. If she was going to do something she would have already done it. She's waiting for you so she can say you started it."

"Smart girl," Uncle Calvin murmured and Cherise smiled.

Tray continued to look at her, almost in wonder. "I will tell her to leave if you want me to."

She tugged at his arm and smiled up at him. "I just said I didn't. Please, sit down and finish your dessert."

He sighed and did as she asked, though he rather wanted to tell Debbie to go to hell for his own peace of mind. "Where is Alcide, anyway?" he asked his uncle.

"His daddy had a big party over in Shreveport today. I'd say he's over there."

"Well maybe she should join him," Tray muttered.

Alcide's father, Jackson Herveaux, was married to Calvin and Tray's dad's sister, and he owned a construction company in Shreveport. He'd branched out about ten years ago to New Orleans and now Alcide managed his crews there. Growing up, Alcide and his mother had spent a lot of time during the summers with Tray's family in Bon Temps because Jackson worked from sun up to sun down seven days a week on his construction sites, "building the business" he said. As he got older, Tray never understood how his aunt had put up with it, but they were still happily married.

Amelia changed the subject, falling back on her southern charm and social graces as she tended to do in uncomfortable situations. They talked a while longer as Maria-Starr joined them, telling old stories and watching her boys in the yard playing with all of their cousins. A little while later she noticed that Debbie was gone, and Tray said he'd seen her drive off in her old Nova. She had to admit she felt relieved, glad that she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder the entire night. Although it was unlike any party she'd been to before, she was enjoying herself. Tray taught her the rules of horseshoes and tried to teach her to play, but it wasn't a pretty sight.

The sun began to set and they followed everyone down to the pond where they set up chairs and watched the kids twirl sparklers in the fading light. Someone had moved their car down by the water and turned on a classic rock station. Calvin and a couple of other men dragged a plastic tote to the edge of the dock where they prepared for the fireworks spectacular as Cherise called it. Tray called it old men with pyro-tendencies, and they all laughed as Calvin told Tray he'd be old enough to help the following year.

They put on a decent show, not nearly as elaborate as the one she was used to at the Country Club, but the squeals and oohs and aahs of the kids made it more exciting. When they were finished, the families with smaller children packed up and headed home while the others turned up the music and continued to drink. She stood beside Tray at the bonfire and sighed. His family had been fun and welcoming, and their idea of a party was much more relaxing than wearing four inch heels and a cocktail dress to stand around talking complete bullshit with people who didn't know her or care about anything except her father's money. Sure, she missed some of the fabulous food and her favorite dresses, but she knew she could find a way to wear them occasionally, and she was learning that some of the best foods were prepared where you least expected it.

She had tried not to, but she'd become increasingly depressed about the estrangement from her father, and being surrounded by Tray's family had really brought it home. It had been months since she'd seen or spoken to her father. Tray tried to reassure her that she'd done everything she could, he knew she missed him. He tried to explain how emotions made some men feel weak, and that he could only imagine what it would be like to have a daughter leave his home for another man's. She didn't think that was it. She'd always felt that, deep down where he pretended it didn't matter, her father blamed her for her mother's death. She wondered if he felt like he was finally rid of the constant reminder of what he'd lost.

Octavia had told Amelia once that her father had truly loved her mother, that he'd never been the same since she died. Amelia couldn't imagine her father in love with anyone. She couldn't even imagine him being loving. His love towards her had always been in the form of financial support and social standing. As a child, he'd made sure she attended the best schools and took dance at the best studio. She spent one summer in France and the next in Italy so that she could be immersed in their language and culture, but he didn't go with her.

As she compared their childhoods in her head, for the first time she could ever remember, she was embarrassed by her family, and that was something that one could hardly ever say about the Carmichaels. The Dawsons, and their extended relatives, were a family who made the best of what they were given. They learned to adjust to the shit that life threw at them and built things back up from the rubble. They had each others' backs in ways that she couldn't imagine.

The Carmichaels on the other hand, threw money at problems to make them go away and paid people to have their backs. Life with her father had been a cold existence that she hadn't recognized until she walked away. It was like suddenly finding out your life was a lie and she was having difficulty assimilating her past and present without devaluing her past, even if it had been stuffy and artificial.

The morning after the cookout and fireworks at Calvin's, Tray woke her up to tell her he was running over to the junk yard to pick up a part and would grab them breakfast. She contemplated waiting for him in bed, but eventually the smell of bonfire on her hair was too much and she pulled herself into the bathroom.

She was almost finished with her shower when she heard the bathroom door open. Smiling to herself, she waited for Tray to either tell her their food was getting cold or join her. What she hadn't expected was the sound of the toilet flushing, then scalding water pouring down on her and the shower curtain being ripped open as she heard a man's voice singing the chorus of Snoop Doggy Dog.

She screamed at the top of her lungs, which was matched by the strange man who yelled, "Holy shit! You're not Tray!"

"Neither are you!" she screeched back, trying to hide herself behind the shower curtain and turn off the water.

"Who the fuck are you?" they said at the same time.

There was a loud bang from the front of the house that she could only assume was the front door, then heavy footsteps moving towards them and Tray burst into the bathroom pushing the strange man up against the closet door, growling.

"Hey, Pup," the man tried to joke. "So, I think I just met your girlfriend."

Tray held the man against the door but spoke to Amelia, "Baby, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just startled and a little scalded."

Tray growled again and shook his head but released the man, stepping back, flexing his fingers as if he was holding himself back from throwing a punch. Looking between the two men, she sensed some similarities, same height and build, the same dark hair, even their voices were the same deep timbre. Tray continued facing the stranger, and she wished she could see the look on his face.

"What the fuck, Alcide?" Tray's words surprised her, and then she started laughing.

"Alcide? Like, New Orleans Alcide?"

"The one and only," he said with a grin.

"Shut up, Alcide," Tray growled. "And get out of my bathroom so she can dress."

"What?" he laughed as Tray pushed him out of the room. "Your car was here. Who else would be in your shower?"

"His girlfriend, who lives here," she called after him, shaking her head.

Tray closed the door behind Alcide and turned towards her, running his hand through his hair. "You okay?"

"You already asked that." She stepped over to him and put her arms around his neck. "What's he doing here?"

"It's probably my fault. I texted him yesterday that Deb was at the party."

She smiled. "Get me some clothes?"

He opened the door and peeked into the bedroom. "He went to the kitchen."

"Don't let him eat my breakfast."

He laughed as they went into the bedroom. "No way. That asshole gets peanut butter and jelly."

He walked out to the kitchen and cuffed his cousin on the head as went past him to the counter. He poured himself some coffee and turned to face Alcide with a sigh. "What the fuck, man?"

Alcide gave him a guilty smile. "Dude. I thought it was you! I totally forgot she lived here. I came in the way I did when you were down at my house last year. You know..."

Tray closed his eyes. He did know. "The toilet and the singing?"

"Yeah," Alcide laughed. "Sorry. I mean, it's kind of funny now."

"Don't let her hear you say that. She'll kick your ass."

Alcide threw his head back, cracking up, but noticed that his cousin wasn't laughing. "Seriously?"

Tray nodded. "She's tough."

She joined them then, and Alcide wasn't sure if he should believe Tray or not. Grabbing a container of food Tray had picked up at the diner and a fork from the drawer, she sat at the table and shook her head at him again.

"So, you're Alcide?" Tray put a cup of coffee in front of her and brought his own food over.

"Yeah. You're Amelia?"

"I am. Your ex was giving us the evil eye last night. She's an interesting animal."

Tray laughed and Alcide snorted. "Interesting isn't a word I'd use for her."

"Bitch broke his heart," Tray said, though he'd told her most of the story the night before.

He'd told her how they had dated when Alcide still lived in Shreveport, and he'd thought that Debbie was after Alcide's money, but he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Then he'd seen her in Ruston one weekend at a bar when she'd told Alcide she was working. He'd made sure Debbie knew he'd seen her, but left it to her to tell Alcide, which she never did. A few months later, Hoyt had seen her in Bosier City with someone else. Then Terry saw her in Natchitoches in a biker bar, but Alcide continued to fall for her bullshit excuses. The final straw came when Tray saw her making out with a guy in the parking lot at Merlotte's. He confronted her over Sunday lunch in front of Alcide and the rest of the family, knowing that they wouldn't let Alcide be swayed by her crap. Obviously, she still hated him for it.

Alcide nodded at Tray's words. "She did. And now Tray's breaking mine eating all that food and not sharing with me."

"You're not a guest," Tray responded between bites. "Serve yourself. There's fixings for peanut butter and jelly."

Amelia resisted getting up and making him a sandwich, especially after Tray gave her a slight shake of his head warning her not to.

"Asshole," Alcide muttered as he pushed back from the table and went to make a sandwich.

They finished their food, Tray and Amelia enjoying biscuits and gravy and fresh fruit from the diner in town and Alcide bemoaning his PB&J.

Tray sipped his coffee. "So, what are you doing here?"

Alcide smiled sadly. "I just wanted to catch up. I should have come out here yesterday, although I'm not sure I would have been civil to Deb; my dad is still an asshole."

"You heading to Uncle Calvin's?"

"Yeah. Maybe fish for a bit. Ya'll want to grab dinner?"

"Sounds good." Tray didn't say any more, but he knew that the trip to their uncle's was more about spending time with a father figure than fishing.

"Amelia, tell me how you met this dog."

So they sipped coffee and chatted until Tray needed to head out to the shop and Alcide was ready head to Calvin's.

Dinner proved that her first impressions of Alcide had been correct, not the impression he left with scalding water and his ridiculous rap, but from the stories Tray told her when they parked at his place in New Orleans. He and Tray were like brothers, although they had drifted a bit apart since Alcide moved to New Orleans. He was well known at Merlotte's since he'd spent so many summers in Bon Temps. Jason and Hoyt begged him for stories about wild women and parties in the city while Sam talked to him about rumors about the Saints.

Alcide slept on their couch that night, after drinking too much and telling the whole bar Tray was a pussy-whipped bitch in heat. That was the point that Amelia grabbed his nuts and told him to get in the car because she was driving them home, which was also about .2 seconds before Tray would have punched him in the gut.

He woke in the morning with a hangover and apologized, mostly to Amelia, then headed back to New Orleans before he did anything else to piss her or Tray off. She shook her head as he left, not angry, but mystified by the relationships of men.

The summer flew by with trips to Calvin's pond and Sookie's 'pool,' evenings with friends at Merlotte's and the race track in Monroe. She had organized his office, computerized his billing system and introduced him to the luxury of high thread-count bed sheets. They also spent a few weekends taking road trips to historic Civil War sites from the Confederate Army's Red River campaign, like Pleasant Hill in Mansfield and Grand Ecore in Natchitoches. She would have never guessed that he was a Civil War buff, but he was. His knowledge of all things historic surprised and delighted her, and he enjoyed sharing it with her. He also seemed to know just when she'd heard enough, and he changed the subject or kissed her to break her train of thought.

Their relationship couldn't have been better. They had fought only a few times, mostly when they were tired, and the make-up sex always outweighed whatever they had argued about. She had limited herself to a monthly voice-mail to her father letting him know she was alright, each time inviting him to visit or call and tell her a good time to come down to the city, but he never responded.

They were driving home from a long day watching LSU play on the big screen at Merlotte's when Amelia's phone rang, issuing a basic ring-tone. She glanced at the number flashing on the screen, and it was exactly as Tray described it. She knew. Without any uncertainty.

"Octavia?" she said almost breathlessly, hoping that it was not in fact the housekeeper.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry to have to tell you..."

"Oh, god. What happened?"

Tray glanced at her, wondering if he should pull the car over, but if they needed to go to New Orleans, he might as well keep driving. He reached for her hand, and she squeezed tightly as she listened to the older woman speak.

Massive heart attack. Found on the floor of his office. Funeral arrangements. Meetings with his lawyer, Mr. Cataliades.

She couldn't get her head around it. He realized that she was staring ahead, not hearing a word being said through the phone, so he pulled over, gently taking the phone from her hand. Octavia repeated the details to him, and he told her they would stop by the house and be in New Orleans by morning. She made him promise to take care of Amelia, and he disconnected the call.

He gave her a sideways glance, and she was staring out the windshield with a distant look on her face. He wanted to speak, to tell her he loved her and he'd be there for her, but she wasn't in any condition to listen. Lifting their hands, he kissed the inside of her wrist. He moved to set their hands back down on his thigh, but she pulled them towards her instead, putting them in her lap and covering his hand with hers. She didn't make another move until they got home, and when she did, she walked straight into the house, directly to the bedroom and curled up on the bed crying softly.

He went to her side of the bed and took her shoes off, then gently pulled her dress pants off and slid her under the covers. Leaning down, he kissed her hair. "I'm so sorry, baby."

She reached for him and pulled him down to her. "I know. Please just hold me." She didn't want to talk. She really didn't want to think. She thought that getting really drunk might help her sleep, but she couldn't seem to make her body move, and she knew that that was a stupid idea anyway.

Kicking off his shoes, he climbed in behind her and wrapped her in his arms. Her soft tears became sobs, and he tightened his hold on her, whispering and rubbing her arms.

The last thing she thought before she fell asleep was that she was so glad she had found Tray because without him she would have been completely alone.

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A/N:

Schwoo. Sorry, that chapter was kind of all over the place. I hope you loved meeting Alcide and that it balanced out the sad at the end. Her dad was an asshole, but he was the only family she had - or not. Keep reading to find out more! (Insert evil laugh here.)