CHAPTER SEVEN

First Date Jitters

"Tara! Get me that seasoning I made for the chicken!" Lafayette hollered from the kitchen.

He had been preparing, chopping, test-tasting, seasoning, boiling the food for his boss's date, and he really enjoyed doing so. He was tired of the plain, old cheeseburgers, fries and what-nots for the locals, so tonight was a special treat for him as well.

"Hold on!" she yelled to Lafayette. "I can't get this table ready and be at his beck and call!" Tara grumbled to Sookie while they set-up the table for Sam and Abby. "I can't believe I'm doing this for someone I've been—"

"Tara Thornton, if you don't come help me, I'm gonna tell the whole bar that you—"

"Shut UP already." As she went to the kitchen and handed him the bag of Lafayette's special seasoning, she asked, "What's so special about this, anyway? You got something in here that shouldn't be?"

"Nope, made with love."

"That's what I was afraid of. Is it Gran-ma's recipe?" Tara asked hopefully.

"Of course, and there ain't gonna be no left overs."

"With you, there never is," she snickered as she went back to helping Sookie with the table. "Sook, why is Sam going all out for Abby?"

"Because he likes her," she said as she made sure the silverware was lined up properly and the crystal glasses were sparkling and no fingerprints.

"Sam never did all this for you, and he liked you," Tara said with a raised eyebrow.

"Because he knew if he did, he'd pay a hefty price with Bill kicking his butt."

"Hmm, that's true. Don't you think this is way overboard?"

"Nope. I think Sam will like it. He doesn't know about the extras."

"Extras meaning everything but the tablecloth," Tara observed.

"Yep."

"Girl, this ain't gonna help you get a raise."

"Wasn't thinking it would, but the smile on his face will be better than a tip."

"God, I'm gonna be sick," Tara groaned.

"Just make sure you aim over there," Sookie replied, pointing to the other side of the room.

It was only 5:30 and the place only had a few patrons, but the night was still young. Those at the bar that were helping with the date—meaning Tara, Sookie, and Lafayette—were right on schedule with the preparation.

Sookie and Tara grinned at each other when they heard a bowl drop to the tiled floor and Lafayette cursed. "Oh, Tara, the napking linens are in the box by the—"

"I know, I know. I'll get it, Mistress," she snorted as she walked away.

"Thank you!" Sookie said with a smile on her face. She was really excited for Sam having a date like this, something he never did. She assumed at first it was because he wanted to get everyone's approval, but knew that wasn't right. The truth was: Abby was something special to Sam. And now she knew why.

Sookie stood back at the table brimming with pride. She had really outdone herself. The booth set farthest in the back, to allow some privacy, covered with Adele's Mother's lace tablecloth with a dark blue cotton cloth underneath. The china setting was Adele's she'd received when she married many moons ago, the water and wine glasses were crystal, the silverware was shiny brass with intricate carving on the handle, and the napkin linens—which Tara handed her—were a lighter shade of blue.

"Thanks," Sookie said appreciatively as she folded the napkins neatly and set them diagonal on the two dinner plates.

"Lord, I'm sorry I got you that Martha Stewart entertainment book," Tara grumbled.

"Oh, Tara, I promise I'll do this for you on your next date."

"Do and I won't have you as my Bride's Maid."

"Do you promise?" Sookie teased as she clasped her hands to her chest in a pleading manner.

"You'd better be my Bride's Maid," Tara snapped.

"Not if I have to wear anything similar to the hideous red prom dress you wore at Arlene and Rene's wedding."

"Nah, of course not."

"Thank you."

"I'll have my colors bronze," she winked then walked away.

Tara was the only one that could really make Sookie laugh, and she loved her like a sister she never had. She headed to the kitchen and asked Lafayette if he needed any help. "No, ma'am," he answered playfully. "Got it all covered. What time is it?"

"It's 5:40. They'll be here in five minutes or so."

"On second thought, can you get the salad ready and butter the bread and . . . I have to go change."

With Tara's help, everything was ready to go when the front door opened and Sam and Abby walked in. A few patrons sitting at the bar picked their heads up from their beer, or whatever they were drinking, and looked at the couple.

Abby was mortified, while Sam was only slightly embarrassed. They stood at the door waiting for something, Abby observed, and was again mortified when Lafayette came out in a black sequined vest and the matching black pants—no jacket, no sleeves, nothing. That's our Lafayette.

"Good evening, Master Merlotte and Miss, uh—"

"Douglas," Abby answered shyly.

"Miss Douglas, and may I say you look brilliant tonight."

"Uh, sure," she said, a smile slowly coming to her lips. "And thank you."

It was obvious that Lafayette hadn't had that much proper etiquette training, and Sam grew impatient for more alone time with Abby. He smiled weakly then said, "Get on with it," Sam grumbled.

"My dear Sir, you said I could do this . . ."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean for you to embarrass us." Abby had her hand wrapped around Sam's elbow and she squeezed it slightly. He sighed. "May we have your best table, please," he said, finally playing along.

"Absolutely. This way, please."