Weddings in the South always cause a certain kind of commotion. Especially in a place so tightly knit as Bon Temps where everyone was always, always related to the bride or the groom.
Not tonight, though.
As guests started taking their places at the old fashioned pews adorned with beautiful, blooming azaleas and magnolias, it was becoming evident that the right side –the groom's side— had more seats to fill.
There were no distant relatives who couldn't stand each other. No grandparents who couldn't stop complaining about the weather or the tardiness of the wedding party. No mother who couldn't keep her tears at bay and no father to give his son away with a soft pat in the back.
The only people occupying the pews were Jason's old high school buddies, the Fortenberry's, the Herveaux's and Sookie's old coworkers from Lafayette's –with the exception of the flamboyant Lafayette himself, who was forced to hang back a bit to close his pub.
The double oak doors closed briefly before it swung wide open again to let in two men in identical light charcoal suits followed by a stunning blonde in a magenta dress and a gray cashmere shawl. Heads swiveled toward the aisle to gape at the newcomers who were obviously not from Louisiana.
But just like in all nuptials, the last person to walk down the aisle was the one to get the most attention.
A collective gasp followed by hushed murmurs echoed inside St. John the Baptist chapel as the Viking walked in with his signature swagger. Clenching his jaws, he kept moving forward without sparing anyone a glance until he reached the second pew from the altar. The family's pew.
Pam, Jake and Clancy were already seated. They kept a considerable distance from each other to be able to fill the entire length of the bench to discourage anyone brazen enough to sit with them. Eric sat at the edge so he could be closest to the aisle. Strategically, Pam took her post beside him, creating a hazmat zone around the Viking with her vicious glare.
Before long the groom's side was packed with guests who wanted to get closer to the towering presence with hypnotic blue eyes.
A redhead and a brunette scampered at the bench behind Eric murmuring like a couple of rabid tweens. Pam resisted the urge to raise her eyebrow at them. It was a lot harder than she thought.
Pam tried to tune out the shameless whispers as her eyes raked over the surrounding. It was a small traditional chapel with stained glass windows and whitewashed planked wood ceiling. Antique wrought iron chandeliers added a dash of sophistication to the otherwise horrid piece of architecture. The delicate scent of the flowers that were meticulously tied to the hardwood pew ends wafted in the air, drowning the stale Louisiana air.
"Tell me again why I need to sit through this shit," she hissed through gritted teeth.
Eric sighed. "Quit being so dramatic. It won't kill you to mainstream once in a while."
Pam rolled her eyes. As much as she loved Eric and Sookie she hardly thought her dedication to them was enough to outweigh her growing hatred toward gatherings like these.
God, she missed Las Vegas, where matrimonies were less demanding and more succinct. It didn't even matter if you were of sound mind - as long as you could slur your vows and keep yourself vertical long enough for Elvis to pronounce you man and wife. Oh, and if you have two hundred bucks to cover the entire wedding package.
Pam clasped her hands together and put them on top of her knees to straighten her posture. She thanked her patron saint Oscar de la Renta for not letting her wear stockings or she would be sweating like an Arab in customs inside the poorly ventilated chapel. Uncrossing her ankles from under the long wooden backed bench, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Will you please stop squirming? It's very unbecoming," Eric chastised her again before he darted a glance down at his wrist watch.
Before Pam could form a rejoinder, the double doors at the back tore open again greeted by the passable sound of Pachelbel's Canon D from the small pipe organ beside the pulpit announcing the entrance of the entourage.
The guests started to rise on cue as a train of people made a beeline to the altar. It was led by Sookie's brother who looked startlingly appealing in his khaki suit, light blue dress shirt and black pinstripe tie.
The sudden melancholia that stabbed Pam at the sight of the groom marching down the aisle alone was unexpected and very upsetting for the hard-hearted blonde. She quashed the feeling immediately. Jason had barely spoken three words to her and one them was 'Howdy'. So, no, they were not friends. The role of the annoyingly dorky friend was already taken by Sam Merlotte.
Small girls in pink lace gowns holding a basket of flower petals started leaving a trail of roses behind them followed by two pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen with arms linked together.
Pam noticed the sudden stiffness in Eric's otherwise flawless form when he spotted Sookie and Alcide walking hand in hand rather awkwardly. The leggy blonde could hardly stifle a snicker when she saw Sookie make a small waving gesture at Eric by wiggling her fingers that were wrapped around her bouquet of pink and white magnolias. With Eric's back to her, Pam couldn't see what the Viking did in return but she could only guess it was something eye-twitchingly schmaltzy judging by the pinkish tint on Sookie's cheeks and the painful scowl on her escort's face.
The maid of honor waltzed in next trailed by the bride with her parents. Michele was radiant in her strapless Vera Wang princess cut gown with a long flowing train with specks of crystals that glittered like diamonds against the red carpet. Her dark brown hair was arranged into an elaborate French braid to accentuate the elegant string of pearls around her neck. She looked every bit the perfect bride. But as Michele passed rows after rows of familiar faces who gave her perfunctory nods and smiles, she knew she was no longer the main attraction.
The rest of the ceremony was forgettable. Michele choked back her sobs midway through her vows, while Jason stuttered through his. One of the flower girls reminded Pam why she planned on eating her young when the sweet little angel threw a hell of a tantrum in the middle of the sermon. The girl punctuated her scene-stealing rampage with an ear-splitting shriek as she dumped the rest of her petals on her father's lap. Pam swore the vein on the little girl's dad's receding hairline could be seen from Google Earth.
The maid of honor – who kept batting her false eyelashes at Eric - almost caused a fire when she tripped on the bride's train while she was lighting up the unity candle. It took all of Pam's willpower not to laugh out loud, really.
Oh well, it would not be a wedding without minor disasters, she thought with gaiety.
And who would remember any of it if they could just tune in to the Eric and Sookie side show. Featuring two morons who thought they had suddenly turned invisible and that no one could see them steal glances at each other from opposite ends of the room. It was comical how they tried to keep their impassive expressions on throughout the service, nonchalantly shifting from their seats before they gently and ever so casually tilt their heads to the side. If they were lucky – and they were, most of the time – their eyes would meet and linger just a little bit longer.
Pam had kept track of the 'lingering gazes'. Thirty-two in total. In a little over 60 minutes, Eric and Sookie caught a glimpse of each other 32 times. Not counting the instances when one of them looked while the other one was busy pretending to do something else.
Pam was a bad poker player. She didn't have the face that could bluff anyone, Eric had told her many times in the past. But as she watched two of the best gamblers she knew tried to disguise their yearning for each other she couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
Eric looked disapprovingly at her.
She covered her mouth and flicked her hand dismissively. She didn't have the heart to tell him that they should just drop the act. Anyone with two eyes could see Eric and Sookie were more in love than the couple at the altar.
E/S
Pam marvelled at her shimmery polished nails that were magnificent against the white linen cloth as she drummed her fingers impatiently on top of the round table. She had survived the hour-long wedding service. But her suffering was far from over.
Thanks to Pam's ingenuity, the reception was pushed to the back of the town hall instead of the old, spider-infested assembly room that reeked of mold and mildew. The municipal house had a big garden at the back. And if there were something the Southerners were good at it was keeping their gardens in pristine condition. It was the perfect setting for the dinner reception. Oval paper lanterns in coral pink hung from the trees illuminating the way to the big white tent on the right side of the garden. Small ivory-colored glass tealight holders were hanging from shepherd hooks surrounding the outside of the tent. Mason jars with colorful bouquets of seasonal flowers could be found in every guest tables. The head table which was positioned perpendicular to the stage where Jason and Michele would sit had an ornate iron basket filled with azaleas, lilies and magnolias.
There was a long table for the buffet at one side, while a makeshift bar with a professional bartender for everyone's disposal was at the opposite part of the room. A special counter was also allotted only for sweet tea, lemonade and Coca Colas in vintage bottles. The three-tiered chocolate marble cake, which the bride ordered from Shreveport two weeks ago, was at the table beside the newlyweds. Along with the groom's cake that was the shape of a football – Jason's favorite sport.
It was all Pam's doing. All except for the food because it was impossible, even for a Wedding Planner Extraordinaire like her, to get a decent caterer with the amount of time she had. She would have called Marco Alfonso but the Italian chef was in Florence visiting old relatives. Curse Marco and his wrinkly Nonna.
Pam reached for her glass of sparkling Perignon – her second for the night and the only dinner she insists on having. There was no way in hell she would willingly ingest anything from that buffet table. The wide selection of carbs and fried vegetables were enough to wipe out this town with an outbreak of coronary heart disease—or acne, whichever comes first. And the big servings of gumbo, jambalaya and chicken creole only fortified her resolve to resort to liquid diet. She had only been in Louisiana for ten hours and she could already feel her pore-less skin absorbs grease from all the deep-fried food in front of her. She doubted even an entire pot of La Mer could fix the damage being done to her immaculate skin.
Pam sighed. She was certain there was a better form of torture somewhere in Pyongyang than being stuck in this backwater dump that was swarming with people who thought it was acceptable to wear polyester in summer. At least the guards in North Korea would shoot her pointblank if she tried to escape and not kill her slowly with sweet tea and fried okra.
Sookie was all over the room exchanging pleasantries and small chitchat with old acquaintances, leaving Eric helpless against the herd of bison that kept attacking their table, introducing themselves while trying to keep their gushing to the bare minimum.
Pam swore under her breath. By god, if she heard one more person drawl Ewic Nowthman in that atrocious Southern twang, she would stab her ear with a used fork. Thankfully, the dancing started and the plethora of women in horrid sundresses directed their energy to the floor.
But she should have known that the worst was yet to come.
A few minutes after the newlyweds took the floor for their first waltz, a black guy wearing a gold bandana, a snakeskin tunic and brown leather pants foxtrotted toward them.
'If he isn't gay, I'm going to piano wire him for wearing snakeskin to a wedding,' Pam thought venomously.
He introduced himself as Lafayette Reynolds, 'Soo-Soo's ex-boss and present BFF' (his words, not Pam's). She was mildly surprised when Eric decided to humor the black Ricky Martin and his senseless blathering. The Viking even offered him a room at the North should the flaming rainbow decided to go to Vegas.
Pam bit back a laugh. Oh, the things Eric would do for Sookie, she thought amusedly.
After a while Eric excused himself and asked Pam to dance. She knew it was his way to avoid anymore intrusions. Sookie, on the other hand, was busy prancing with her brother when Sheriff Dearborn decided to cut in and waltz with his daughter.
"I have to say, you've certainly outdone yourself. The place looks lovely," Eric complimented as they swayed to the slow country music. "I'm sure they," he tilted his head to Jason and Sookie, "appreciate it."
"I'm confused. Did you mean Jason or Sookie?" she teased as she held onto Eric's shoulder. A coy smile dancing on her lips.
He replied with a shrug as he directed his gaze to his blithe lover just a few paces from him.
Pam didn't need to verbalize it. Eric finally cracked the code. The easiest way to Sookie's heart was through the people she cared about. That was why Eric wanted to give Jason a fancy wedding or why he spent time talking to her friends.
"Uh-oh, it seems the pesky yeti's making a move at six o'clock," Pam murmured nudging her head forward. Eric whirled Pam around to peek at Alcide who was indeed making his way to the Stackhouses with long purposeful strides.
Eric shrugged nonchalantly. "I no longer feel threatened by the sneeze. It only took me a month to do what he couldn't accomplish in years. I got the girl," he replied with cool arrogance.
Pam's lips tugged at the side. Eric could be real cocky sometimes.
Even though Eric said he didn't mind, his body posture said otherwise. And judging by the loosening of his grip around her waist she could tell Eric was only biding his time before he could swoop in to whisk Sookie away from the yeti.
"Where were you earlier? Your shopping trip with Jason took a lot longer than I thought," Pam murmured, changing the topic before Eric decides to leave her in the middle of the dance floor.
Eric tore his gaze away from Sookie and Alcide. "The sheriff and I had a little chat," was his curt response.
"About?"
"I asked him – politely, of course – to open her grandfather's case. They didn't catch the thieves who murdered him," his voice dropping lower.
"Why would you do that? Don't you have a lot on your plate with Russell already? Besides, it was at least five decades ago. His killer was either too old to put behind bars or already rotting in his grave just like their granddaddy." Even with the amount of time she had been with Eric, he could still stump her sometimes.
"There's something off with the etching on Earl's rifle. You've seen it, yes? Why would you call your wife a divining rod, knowing exactly what those words mean?" Eric gave the shotgun to Pam for safekeeping when she arrived in Bon Temps. She had asked Eric what the phrase meant and according to Sookie it was synonymous for magnet of doom.
"Have you told Sookie?"
Eric shook his head. "I told Jason and he agreed with me. I'll tell Sookie later tonight. Sheriff Dearborn already agreed to open the cold case and his deputy had given me the file. They found two set of prints on the barrel, one of them belonged to Earl. Since Bon Temps doesn't have the best forensic team, I'll bring it to Vegas so Sam could give it to his buddies in the CSU maybe they could run the prints through AFIS."
Pam let out a hollow chuckle. "I hope you're not just shooting yourself in the foot here, Eric. Opening a cold case like that could mean another heartbreak for Sookie."
Eric pursed his lips before he gave a slight shrug. "I know Sookie. She wouldn't mind getting some kind of closure. I know that's what her gran would have wanted."
The music stopped abruptly, plucking Eric and Pam from their serious conversation. The host, an attractive Caucasian male with spiky hair and thick Tennessee accent, tapped his champagne flute with a fork creating a high-pitched noise from the microphone.
"It's time for the toasts!" he announced as the guests went back to their tables.
Eric reflexively searched for Sookie. She was still in the middle of the floor talking to Michele and Jason.
Pam wondered what the Stackhouses were talking about but whatever it was, Sookie was evidently taken aback. Pam quirked her eyebrow in a mix of confusion and mirth as she watched Sookie blanch dramatically before the Southerner sagged her shoulders and traipsed back to their table.
Eric helped Sookie to her seat, rubbing her arms soothingly. "What's that about?"
Sookie didn't offer a response as she reached for the glass of Merlot in front of him. "Can I have this?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply she chugged it down in one gulp. "Oh god, I need somethin' stronger," she cried putting the stemmed glass back on the table.
"What the fuck are you blabbering about?" Pam spat, a touch of levity in her voice.
"They want me to make a toast," Sookie snapped back. "Me! Because I'm the only livin' member of the family I'm obliged to give a frickin' speech!"
Eric and Pam exchanged a look before they sniggered at the same time.
Sookie slapped Eric at the shoulder with the back of her hand, "Don't you laugh! Don't you dare find amusement in my misery! You know how I hate the spotlight. I don't do public speaking. That's your thing!" she whisper-yelled at Eric. "What am I supposed to say? I don't even know how they met in the first place. And I don't think they'd appreciate it if I say, 'here's to the lovely couple who realized a little too late that condom only works 99 percent of the time.'"
Pam almost choked on her drink. She quickly put her flute down before she wiped the side of her mouth with the white table napkin. "It's better if you open with that," she prodded Sookie haltingly, trying to control her laughter.
"I'm gonna faint up there," Sookie said defeatedly leaning her head on Eric's shoulder.
"I'll catch you," he managed to blurt out before he could catch the cheese coming out of his mouth. He immediately shot Pam a warning glare as though telling her 'to zip it if you know what's good for you.'
Pam sneered defiantly but kept her snarky comment to herself. She would have plenty of time to give Eric a good ribbing in Vegas.
"Don't worry, Soo-Soo," Pam cooed, mimicking Lafayette's pet name to Sookie, "if you make a complete fool of yourself out there, Eric will just take off his shirt to draw the attention off of you," Pam finished with a sly wink.
Before Sookie could roll her eyes and slam back another glass of wine, the host called her name. Pam spied Eric giving Sookie's hand a squeeze before he helped her up. The nervous Southerner kept her footing steady in her three-inch Balenciaga stilettos. (God bless Sookie's ignorance in shoe brands or Pam would have a hard time getting Sookie to wear them.)
'This is gonna be good y'all,' Pam thought wickedly as Sookie took the mic from the overly enthusiastic host.
The audio gave off another high-octave shriek making the Southerner jump back a little. The host seized the microphone and did a little 'testing, testing,' while patting the mic's silver head. He returned it to dangerously pale Sookie who was fiddling with her corsage.
"Hello, hi," she croaked. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm the sister of the groom," she continued, stating the obvious. "Well, y'all probably know that already, otherwise you're clearly at the wrong reception."
Mercifully, some guests snickered at her attempt at humor.
"I'm sorry I'm not really good at this," she smiled apologetically at the crowd before she inhaled deeply. "Well, not just public speakin' but the whole idea in gen'ral. I bet anyone who knows me personally can attest to my aversion to weddings. And I know my gran will roll over in her grave if she hears me say this, but I never really believed in matrimony."
Sookie really had a way to make things turn a sharp one eighty degrees, Pam thought with an internal sigh. There were no more giggles or short chuckles. Only a defeaning silence that was punctuated by Mrs. Fortenberry's fork that fell on top of her plate with a shrill clank.
Pam saw Sookie shift the mic to her other hand. Her palm was probably sweating profusely. Maybe it was time to tell Eric to start unbuttoning his shirt. Pam looked around and noticed Jason purse his lips and shake his head slightly, probably wondering what had possessed him to ask his pessimistic sister to give a speech.
Sookie darted her tongue out and moistened her lips before she resumed. "I- I thought marriage isn't meant for everybody. And for a long time Jase and I believed it wasn't for us."
'Oh. Hell. No.'
Pam's eyes instantly fell on Eric and her chest tightened when she noticed him flinch and drop his gaze to the floor. Before he could avert his eyes, Pam saw something in them, anxiety perhaps, and for a fleeting moment she thought he would stand up and leave the room.
'Goddamit, Sookie! I'm going to punch your teeth in if you don't have a BUT somewhere in that fucking speech.'
Jason was nonplussed as he gripped Michele's hand that was resting on top of the table. He looked sideways and smiled ruefully at the guests. Pam had no doubt Jason would help her strangle Sookie as soon as the Southerner stepped off the stage. Even Michele couldn't look at her sister-in-law anymore as she lowered her gaze at the wedding band in her left hand, twirling it with her thumb, probably pondering if it were too late to give it back.
For a moment, it was complete painful silence. Sookie turned her head to Michele and Jason's corner before she fixed her gaze in one of the guest tables. Their table. At first Pam thought Sookie was looking for a rescue team but then she spoke again. Softer but steadier this time.
"But I guess there'll always be that someone who's hell-bent on proving us wrong, huh?" Sookie quipped with a nervous chuckle. Pam stared at the bridal table and noticed Jason lean his head on top of Michele's, giving it a soft kiss, careful not to ruffle her intricate 'do.
Sookie wasn't looking at the newlyweds, though. Her attention was fixed on the Viking who had lifted his head and cocked his brows at her.
The Southerner smiled. "You know… that someone who will hug you when you're sleepin' when he realizes it's useless to fight you off for his portion of the blanket. Someone who'll kiss you when you wake up without complaining about your morning breath. Someone who'll bring you Chinese food because he knows you haven't had dinner yet. Or eat whatever you cook and pretend to like it, stray eggshells and all," she paused as she blinked rapidly.
Pam had seen enough gamblers weeping in desperation to know how to spot someone who was trying so hard to push back their tears. "Someone who'll bring you chocolate-dipped doughnuts and not hold your hand when you're PMS-ing."
That one actually drew a lot of sniggers from the young women in the room.
Sookie laughed with them as she casually wiped the bottom of her nose with the back of her index finger. "And that someone who sees all your craziness but still think you're sane. That one person who'll take one look at you and know there's somethin' wrong. Someone who's not afraid to disagree with you and fight you for what he believes in. But it's okay because arguin' with him is still a hundred times better than not bein' with him at all." Her voice was getting nasal, betraying her like a traitor.
However, Pam thought Sookie shouldn't be too concerned about people noticing her croaky voice. Because at that point almost every head in the room was pointed at their table, more specifically at Eric. And while practically every guests – even the newlyweds – were watching his reaction to Sookie's badly-disguised soliloquy, he was watching her.
Sookie pinched her nose before she smiled at the audience, "At first I thought marriage was only for fools. But I didn't realize we'll all be fools at one point in our lives. All it takes is one more idiot to make you believe that it's alright to be foolish. It's okay to let go and be shamelessly happy. Because it's worth a darn shot. You're worth a shot." Sookie tipped her stemmed glass in the Viking's direction before she returned her attention to Jason and Michele who were gaping at her as though Sookie had just crawled out of her skin.
The Southerner paused to shift her weight to her other foot. "To Jase and Michele," she toasted, raising her glass to the dumbstruck couple, "for finding that someone in each other."
"Hear, hear!" the crowd roared followed by the sound of glasses clinking. Pam smirked. She knew the last part of Sookie's speech was an afterthought, as though the Southerner had been lost in a stupor and just remembered she was supposed to give a damn toast.
"Son of a bitch," Pam hissed. "That wasn't a toast. It was a fucking proposal!" she blurted out with a wide, disbelieving grin. She turned her head to Eric but he was already off his seat as the Viking dashed to the stage to meet the cocky Southerner who poured her out heart in front of the whole fucking town.
Pam sprung off her chair and made her way to the exit. She had no doubt that it was where Eric and Sookie were heading. Then right on cue, two blonde heads ducked as they slithered to the service entrance that was meant only for the caterers.
"Eric!" Pam called in a suppressed yell. The Viking turned to her with an impatient glower. "You'd be needing this," she hollered as she threw him the keys to the Audi.
The Viking caught the key with ease before he nodded with a muted 'thanks.'
Pam strolled to the bar and ordered a dry martini with two olives. She finished it quickly then asked for another one. She could finally let herself get drunk to drown the trill murmurs of the gossiping rednecks. She didn't need to get up early tomorrow to go to New Orleans anymore. The Northman ring would be handed to its owner tonight. That she was sure of.
A/N: I don't own TB.
I know, I know. It's verbose and still too damn slow. But please indulge me. I love Spammy and if Jason gets his own chapter then so will the snarky bitch. It's supposed to be one long chapter but it got away from me.
Thanks so very much for reading and giving me feedback. They are truly lovely. A big shoutout to my Jersey girls Treewitch703 and MyVikingBoyfriend!
No beta, forgive the mistakes.
Love. Love. Love!