This is the worst possible scenario. Screaming and sobbing and falling apart in front of my child. Unfortunately my son has already encountered me falling apart on several occasions.
Right now, he's on my lap, gulping water from a sippy cup. His face is bright red and hot, and he's been crying as much as I have.
"So bad, Momma", he says again, for about the third time. It tears me apart to see my toddler worry. I pat his back to calm him down.
"I don't want to you to worry about anything, baby, it's okay, your Daddy isn't gone forever." He winces.
The worst causality from all this could be a set back, if not destruction, of E.J.'s relationship with his father.
"Daddy is bad", he murmurs, staring at the wall.
"No, no, no! Your Daddy is not bad. Your Daddy loves you more than his own life. He will always love you. Momma is making you a promise that this will be okay."
It's always been the two of us against the world, so he's okay, but I can feel the strength of his disappointment.
A loud rap on the door.
"Dammit, whoever it is, get the hell away!" I yell.
E.J. erupts into tears again.
I put him down and yank open the door.
Bill.
"Bill Compton! Why did you leave that note? You've never left me a note before, never left me money…."
"Only because you wouldn't accept it. Hello, by the way", he says sarcastically.
"Don't test my temper right now. Why did you, all of a sudden, leave me a note?"
Bill waves at E.J. who runs into the kitchen.
Bill is smirking at me.
"You knew", I answer myself, in disbelief, "You knew it, you felt that he's back. You set this whole thing up so he would find it. Why would you do that? You know how he is!"
"Violent?"
"I was going to say – insecure", I growl.
"The big, bad, arrogant Eric Northman…"
"Is very unsure of himself emotionally and you know it. He's lost everyone he's ever loved, his family was brutally murdered in front of his eyes. Twice! I've left him and hurt him and changed my mind…half the posturing he did with you was only fear of loss."
Oh God….how did this happen? How did my opening my front door coming home from work become my husband storming out?
"Sounds like something you need to take up with his therapist. I never said I'd play fair, Sookie. The only reason you're together is that damn bond. That's the reason you think you love him, the reason you married him, the reason you thought you didn't want any baby but his, the reason you would have died to get him back…the entire thing is a silly blood bond. I needed you to see how little you can really trust him. He was violent. He walked out on you. I never would, Sookie, I never would. The whole thing is in your head, Sookie, wake up!"
"Get out of my house!" I scream.
"You'll change your mind", Bill says, turning around to leave. I slam the door in his face, and lock it behind him.
E.J. runs over crying, and I pick him up and cuddle him close.
"I know, baby, this night is going from bad to worse…"
Another knock.
"Bill, go home!"
"I'm not Bill."
"Whoever you are, come through that door, and I'll f*ckin stake you myself!"
To my terror, a key turns in the lock, and the door opens. "I really wish you wouldn't", Chow says, with a greasy smile. "Ready?"
He holds up his hand and inhales. "WHAT is THAT? You always smelled like good eatin', but….what is that?" He steps closer to us and inhales again. Adrenaline from fear floods through my body.
It occurs to me then that if he decided to drain me and E.J., there wouldn't be a damn thing I could do about it.
Sniff, sniff. His beady dark eyes focus on E.J. Chow leans forward.
E.J. buries his face in my neck. "Bad, Momma."
"I know, honey", I say. "Get away from my child, or I promise you, I will stake you right here and now."
"What is he?" he asks.
"Just a human child. ERIC's child. If you touch him…"
He leans back, clearly disappointed. "I'm aware of that. Boss's orders are to take you and the kid to Shreveport."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I was told to bring you and the boy with me, and if you wouldn't come, I was to take you along by any means necessary." He smiles. I could swear he was about to crack his knuckles. He would enjoy this.
He smiles wider at the tears on my cheeks.
"Give me a couple of minutes."
"I was told you'd be ready."
"F*ck off, Chow." He throws his head back and laughs.
"Fifteen minutes, Miss Stackhouse. I mean Mrs. Northman." He winks. "I'll watch the boy if you want to go get things together."
I clutch my baby like the hounds of hell just tried to grab him from me. He laughs as I run up the stairs, clutching E.J.
I put E.J. on the bed, and tear through drawers and my closet. I get together some clothes, clean underwear, and toss it into a big bag. Then jeans and shorts and shirts and p.j's and underwear and diapers for E.J. He's under so much stress, I can't even think about continuing potty training right now.
I add toothbrush, paste, a brush, and a few odds and ends to a cosmetic bag in my purse.
"Tick, tock, Mrs. Northman", Chow shouts from downstairs.
I throw the bag over my shoulder, throw my purse over the other shoulder, I pick up E.J., hand him Bunny, and we're off down the stairs.
"Let me put some juice in his cup and grab him a cookie", I say, heading for the kitchen, but he stops me.
"We're going to Shreveport, not North Africa, it's less than a half hour drive. We have juice and cookies there too. And we've wasted enough time." He motions me to walk ahead of him out the door.
I refuse to show fear, but it's hard to not be afraid of Chow, hard not to wonder what he'd do if he didn't know Eric would stake him slowly if a hair on E.J.'s head was mussed.
I turn around to lock the door. He tries to grab the key, but I kick him. He laughs. I lock my damn door thank you very much.
With no grace, he holds his hand out, and I let him take the heavy bag. He opens the back door to the black limo, and we climb inside.
"Uncanny. Looks just like him", Chow muses, then slams us in.
I expect E.J. to be scared of the big black monstrosity, but he's not. He just looks around. He breathes in and out a couple of times, like he's sniffing the air. "Daddy."
"Daddy", I confirm.
The limo pulls up slowly outside Eric's massive condo. He owns the building, and the penthouse is for his own use.
Several people in neat little uniforms come out and get the door. I've never been here, but I heard about it. More often than not, Eric would just sleep in a coffin at Fangtasia until we were together.
"Mrs. Northman…we're so excited to finally meet you."
Some guy takes my bag. I insist on keeping my purse and my son.
They show me to a big shiny gold elevator. "Mr. Northman thought you might be tired. This elevator goes exclusively to the top floor."
A very smiley young woman is riding up with us. The doors bing open and she shows us to the right and into the front door.
It's very Eric, meaning it's not very me. It's sleekly modern, lots of hard angles. A polished leather sofa, ebony black, two chairs, one black, one red. The wall is entirely open glass.
There's a spacious kitchen with all stainless steel appliances. Why he'd need that I can't imagine.
A big room further to the back has more sofas and a huge television. A smaller room looks like a work station at NASA. That must be Eric's study when he's here. And way in the back is a big bedroom.
There are no windows in the dark wood-paneled walls. That was convenient. The bed is polished hardwood covered in a black silk comforter. "The bathroom is just there", she motions to a small room off this one.
"Mr. Northman thought E.J. might like to sleep here…" she motions to a large crib. You had to hand it to Eric. It had been what? Less than 2 hours? Someone else surely purchased it, but it's the same color scheme – sleek, shiny, black, and expensive. I miss my cozy farmhouse, rose prints, and quilts already.
I desperately wanted to ask her where Mr. Northman is. But it would give her power to realize I had no idea where my husband is, and let her know we're having problems. So I just nod my head. This is the way I think these days.
"If you need anything, dial zero one one on the phone. Is there anything I can get you now?"
"Do you have some juice? Grape or apple?"
"I'm sorry we don't", she says, "but we'll see to getting some right away. Anything else?"
I shake my head numbly. "Very well, goodnight, Mrs. Northman."
The bedroom door closes behind her.
One thing is certain. My son and I are not guests. We're prisoners.
E.J. fusses for a long time, but finally falls asleep from exhaustion in his big scary crib. I realize I forgot a night gown, so I sleep in his black silk sheets naked. Might as well enjoy them. I wonder how many other women have slept here too.
Sleep comes even slower to me than it did to E.J. A strange bed, a strange house, strange people. I will myself to sleep with the knowledge that no matter what happens, Eric is always watching over us in some way. He always protected me, even if it was from himself.
I wake up, dazed, midmorning. E.J. is awake and standing up in his crib, looking around. He sees me sit up.
"Momma." He lifts up his arms to be picked up. I get up and throw on a big thick robe I found behind the bathroom door last night, and pick him up.
There's a note on the bedside table.
"Mrs. Northman, we have both apple and grape juice as you requested last night. Mr. Northman asks that you tell us what you would like for breakfast and lunch, and anything else you require. We're happy to provide anything you desire. He asks that you don't leave the penthouse…"
Oh really?
"Your presence is required at Fangtasia at 8pm. A car will come for you. It's an honor to serve you. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Shreveport Luxury Condominiums, LLC"
God dammit, Eric. What the hell does he have planned? And why can't we leave the apartment? Why am I being summoned? Someone snuck in here while I was sleeping. Some dumb human snuck in here while I was sleeping.
If I didn't have E.J., I'd leave just to see what would happen, and try to figure out what was going on. That was the kind of thing I always did. I don't like being given orders. But I can't risk my son.
The phone rings and I jump. E.J. jumps along with me and his baby blue eyes go wide.
I pick up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Northman", squeaks a peppy young woman who sounds about 18. "We were just making sure everything is all right. And we wanted to ask what you'd like to request for breakfast."
"I don't suppose you're willin to take me back to my own kitchen? There's nothing you could make I'd consider edible", I spit. That was unladylike. And unsouthern. And Gran would turn over in her grave. I don't care, I'm pissed off.
The girl sputters. "Bring me a big coffee", I say, "And some cereal for both of us. And juice please." I hang up.
"Juice", E.J. says.
"It's coming." I kiss his cheek, and he giggles, and pushes me away.
"What? I'm your Momma, I can kiss you any time I want…." I kiss him again and put him down, and he giggles and runs out of the bedroom.
There's nothing for us to do here. Most of his toys are back in Bon Temps. I didn't know how long we would be gone. Damn him for doing this to us. Putting me through hell is one thing, making life hard on E.J. is not fair.
The food arrives and we eat in front of the TV. I call Sam and tell him I don't know when I'll be back. Then I hang up fast so I don't have to explain. I keep imagining police cars showing up out front if Sam was worried enough.
The day goes on, and E.J. gets really restless. After a short night we're both tired and finally fall asleep together in Eric's big bed.
The phone rings at 7:30 on the nose.
"Wha…?"
"We're calling to remind you the car will around for you in half an hour. E.J. should also be there."
"Ummm…."
Click.
I get up and splash water on my face, put on a little makeup, and brush my hair. I get E.J. up, and he really doesn't want to get up. He whines, and cries, and smacks my hand away.
"Hey now, don't do that. I know it's hard, baby, it's hard to get up when you're a grown up much less a kid." He's exhausted and he needs to be in bed. I'm gonna hit Eric. I don't know why a toddler needs to be there for whatever this is anyway. But….I'd rather keep him close than leave him at the condo with one of these bozos.
I dress him up warmly in jeans and a shirt and a carry a sweater with me. I dress pretty much the same. I'm worried. I know Eric would not lead us into danger, but I still have no idea what this is about. Except that he's livid with me. I can still trust him. Right?
Smiley lady collects us at 8 on the nose and we get back into the limo. E.J. falls asleep on my lap, and I'm not waking him unless it's a very good reason.
We only drive a mile or two when the limo pulls up smoothly in front of Fangtasia. The driver gets out and opens the door, and I climb out with E.J. who snuggles against me. What new hell is this, Eric?