Chapter 2 - A Rebirth of Sorts

What a very long first night I had. After Sookie was gone I was left with quiet. No emails to check, no voicemails to return, no sounds of the city humming away in the background. It was quiet save for the noises of the crickets and other creatures of the night. I was left alone with my thoughts; and reliving the nightmare my life had turned into was not something I was anxious to do. I decided to shower and try and get some rest. I hadn't slept much since the shooting so I thought that with everything I had been through that I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I was wrong. I tossed and turned for hours. Perhaps it was that I was in a strange bed, in a strange place. Perhaps I couldn't sleep because for the first time in years I was truly alone.

When you live in New York City, it is very hard to feel alone. There was always commotion outside, regardless of the hour. Inside, there was the doorman, the porter and the concierge who were all nearby. Additionally, there were always the people in the other apartments on the floor. While you could go for days if you wanted to without speaking to any of those people, at least they were close by. I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling listening for any kind of commotion at all. There was none to be heard.

I would close my eyes, and relive those brief moments that changed my life completely. I saw the glint of the steel of the gun, I saw the blood splatter on my clothing and the vacant look in Franklin's eyes as his shell of a body crumpled to the street. I saw the faces of the men who I thought meant to end my life and I became determined. For the past two days I've been shell shocked and numb; out of control. That was something so foreign to me. I was done being led around in a fog. I was going to make the best out of this situation. I would lean on the Marshalls and make sure that they were using every resource to find who killed Franklin so I could get back to life as I knew it. As soon as I had changed my outlook, I felt myself relax a bit more. At 3:40am, I finally succumbed to sleep.

I woke with a start the next morning when I heard some commotion downstairs. I smelled coffee brewing. It must be the Marshalls. I peered over at the clock and saw that it was 10:00. I could not recall the last time I had slept in until 10 on a weekday. It actually felt quite nice. After stretching a bit, I made my way to the shower to start my day.

"Morning Mr. Brigant." I guess I'd have to get used to hearing that. One of the Marshalls was in my kitchen drinking some coffee and eating a bagel. That would be another thing I would miss. There's just something about a bagel from New York, they just didn't make them the same anywhere else.

"Good morning. I see you came prepared." I nodded my head towards the counter where a spread was set up. I helped myself to some coffee and a bagel and made my way out to join the others.

"Mr. Brigant, how was your first night in your new home? I trust you are well rested?"

"It will take some getting used to, but it was fine. I met one of my neighbors and she brought over dinner. You guys should try the burgers from this place called Merlotte's. Not too bad."

"And how did things go with your neighbor? How much detail did you get into?"

"She saw the truck come by and knew that someone was moving in. We kind of ran into each other, almost literally. I was walking down the road and she backed out of her driveway and almost right into me. She invited me to join her at dinner with her friends, but I didn't feel up to talking to a group of strangers. I really think that I need to get a little more comfortable with my new identity before doing that."

"That was smart."

"Thanks. I didn't really get into too much detail with her last night. I tried to steer the conversation more around her than me. I told her that I was from Miami and that I was renting this place. That pretty much covers what I divulged about myself. I still have to get used to it. I am a pretty upfront person. I'm not one who bothers with lying."

"Eric, think of it as your new truth. Write what you want. We told you that you were a burgeoning writer. Write your story. Who do you want to be? We've created a website for your real estate investment company in Miami. We've planted some stories in the archives of the Miami Herald on some supposed deals that you've done. We've decided that your family is originally from Europe. You look like you could be Scandinavian, so it will fit. You moved here with your family for business and your parents have moved back." With that, the Marshall handed me a framed photo of two older people, who I suppose looked like they could have been my parents. The man had his arm around the woman in a loving embrace as they looked at the camera.

I started thinking about what the Marshall had said, I could write my new story and I could be whoever I wanted to be within certain parameters. This could be interesting. I should sit at the computer and sketch out some details and who knows; when this is all over perhaps I really could turn it into a book. In my new story, I would be an only child. I did not want to be burdened with fictitious brothers or sisters. Keeping track of the details of my new life would be enough without having to worry about keeping track of a fake brother or sister too.

I peppered the Marshalls with questions. I wanted to know how frequently I would be seeing them, how often I could expect updates on the case. I wanted to know who I should contact with any questions or concerns. It turns out that I would be contacted by someone from the Marshall's office or the FBI every other day in the beginning. It would be odd if I had groups of people constantly stopping by since I was originally from Florida, so phone contact would take care of it. Every few weeks someone would stop by. An 'old friend' would visit and see how life in Louisiana was going for me. I suppose that would be okay. We went over some more details for a few hours and then they left. I was alone again.

Looking at the clock, I realized that I only had an hour before Sookie would be home and wanted me to stop by. I wrote out a short list of things that I needed to pick up while we were out. I was looking forward to seeing her. After all, she was my first friend in my new life. She was my only friend at this point. At a few minutes before 3, I made my way out of the house and down the road towards her place. I walked, thinking that since I had no idea of where we'd be going, that it would be easiest if she drove.

It was a warm afternoon, and her windows were open. I could see the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze as I approached. I could hear her humming a tune along with the radio. I was thankful that it wasn't country. I may have been thinking stereotypically, but I just figured that since we were in the south that everyone would be listening to country music. I am not a fan. I was happy to hear it was Kings of Leon that she was singing along with.

I smiled as I approached her door. There were some great smells wafting through the screen door. Whatever Sookie was cooking smelled wonderful. I knocked and it took a moment for her to greet me.

"Come on in, the door's open!" she called from the kitchen.

"Hi there. I hope you had a good day." She had a small apron tied around her and turned to greet me wiping her hands on it.

"I'm glad to see you. Yes, I had a good day today. The kids were great. I thought that I'd get some dinner started for us so after I showed you around town we could come back here and eat. I figured you probably didn't want to cook tonight."

How thoughtful. She really was quite nice, taking her job as welcoming committee pretty seriously. This never would have happened in New York. Countless people moved in and out of my apartment building and I rarely could be bothered to get to know any of them.

"That's very thoughtful. I don't want to put you through any trouble."

"No trouble at all Eric. It's my pleasure. That house has been empty for a while; I'm just so excited to have a neighbor again. It gets lonely out here sometimes. Come on now, I've just got to put this back in the oven and then we can get on our way."

She fiddled about in the kitchen for a while and then took off her apron. I liked the sight of that. I didn't realize that people wore aprons anymore. It was quaint, much like her home.

"So let's get a move on. There's a lot to cover today. Are there any places that you'd like to stop in particular?"

"Well, I need the basics. I didn't move most of my toiletries and I don't have a stocked pantry. So definitely those. I'd like to stop at the local bank."

"We can do that. I was thinking that I'd drive us around and give you the lay of the land. Show you where to get what, where the best dry cleaners is located; that kind of stuff." She pulled on a large pair of sunglasses, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. I was amazed at the size of her bag. It looked like she could pack for a week with that thing.

Sookie bounded down the steps to her car with a spring in her step. I was just amazed at how effortlessly happy she seemed. It was nice to see for a change. No one smiled on the streets in the city; everyone was focused on where they were going or what they had to do next. I was always one of those people. But Sookie, the only time she wasn't smiling was when she almost ran me over.

After I folded myself into her passenger seat, she put down the windows and turned up the radio. Once again I was pleased that I wasn't being treated to the latest in country music. Sookie excitedly pointed out different places as we passed them. I learned where the best dry cleaner was, the best place to get breakfast (except for after church on Sundays because it got too crowded), the best school in the area (coincidentally the one she worked at) and the best place to go for a bike ride or a run. I learned that Sookie was a runner, because she could fit it in to her day at any point for as long as she needed.

"We're on our way to Target. It's just up the road a piece. I figure that it's the best place to get you some of the basics that you need."

"That sounds good." We traveled for about 15 minutes outside of town to a place called Blanchard. I had never been to a Target before, but have heard that they have just about everything you would ever need and never realized you needed. This would be a bit of an adventure.

"So Sookie, tell me what type of teacher are you?" Her face lit up as I asked.

"Well, I teach multiple grades. We have a program in our district that challenges students who seem to excel in certain areas. Kids are identified by their teachers who are gifted in math, science, social studies and English. The children are tested and then invited to participate in our challenge program that I run. I meet with each grade and with each area and give them additional projects and work to do that challenges them to reach their full potential and helps keep them from getting bored with their other school work. My fifth grade English group has been writing their own stories since the beginning of the year. They are creating their own characters and their own worlds. The story has to be around 30 to 40 pages and most of them are really excited to do it. They have such creative ideas."

"Really, I might have to ask them for some advice then."

"With what?"

"Well, I'm starting over and I thought that I'd like to try my hand at writing. I've thought it would be something fun to do; to build something from the beginning, a whole world where anything is possible."

"My my Eric, I just might have to have you come and speak to my class about the creative process and how to deal with writer's block. A few of the children seem to be suffering from it."

"Well Sookie, I don't know how effective a talk that would be. I seem to be suffering from writer's block as we speak."

"We'll get that cured for you in no time I'm sure." Although I hardly knew her, Sookie struck me as such an optimist.

She was wheeling the cart up and down the aisles in Target like she had done I'm sure countless times before. I had to laugh as she started throwing in things that she'd thought I would need. I had a couple of candles and lanterns to put them in that she told me were for my porch. She got me a couple of different kinds of bug spray. I guess bugs were a problem here at night. She said that I would probably like a fire pit, but when I raised the point that fire pits didn't really fall under the realm of 'basics' she let me leave it for another trip. I lost her somewhere around the CD and movie section. I wandered over to the area for 'health and beauty aides' and started to pick up shampoo, soaps, shaving cream and other odds and ends. I would have to ask the Marshalls when I spoke to them next if I could order some of the products that I was used to having from home.

I was looking in the sporting good section when Sookie found me with a few DVD's in hand. "I've got some movies here that you just have to see. Did you bring many with you? Have you seen Dinner for Schmucks? It is so freakin' hysterical. Oh, I was laughing out loud in the theater."

"No, I haven't seen it. Thanks. What else did you grab?"

"Well, I also got Despicable Me because I've always wanted to see it and never have. The kids were talking about it last year, and now that it's out again I couldn't resist. Do ya mind?"

"No, throw it on in there." I seemed to remember that it was a cartoon but she seemed so enthused by it, I decided that I didn't really care.

We managed to make our way around the store getting a few more items. I was a little concerned when going to pay for my items. It would be the first time I was using the card that I was given, and I wanted to make sure that it worked. I haven't worried about that since college. It did, and we hauled our bags out to the car and made our way back to town. We stopped by another grocery store on our way home, which Sookie assured me was the place that had the best produce. The one I had gone to last night was okay in a pinch, but she told me that County Market served a bigger area so their items turned over faster. Good to know. Again, Sookie took control of my cart and started adding in items that she deemed important for stocking any pantry. I walked behind her occasionally grabbing things that I wanted and adding them to the cart. She seemed to know what she was doing, occasionally asking me my preferences for certain things.

With the grocery shopping out of the way, we got back in her car and she drove over to my place. She helped me unload the bags and bring them inside.

"This is some place you have here Eric, it would appear that it's been renovated since I've been here last."

"I think that it will feel like home in no time."

We worked well with one another in the kitchen, stocking the cabinets with the purchases. She hummed as she worked. After we managed to put everything away, we headed back over to her place for dinner. I didn't want to impose, but I was glad for the company. It's not like there was anything waiting for me at home. She asked me to bring over one of the movies. I figured I would grab both and let her choose which one we'd watch.

The house smelled amazing when we walked in, and I told her so. I asked if she needed any help, and she told me to grab some dishes out of the cabinet and get the table set. All of the dishes appeared to be mismatched china patterns. They were delicate and homey at the same time. I grabbed two and set the small table in the kitchen with plates and silverware. I was looking for the glasses when Sookie motioned to a cabinet behind me. She was holding a large bright orange pot that she had just taken out of the oven. It smelled amazing as she removed the foil that was under the lid.

"What did you make Sookie? That smells wonderful."

"It's French Chicken in a Pot. My grandmother used to make it for us all of the time. We'll be having it with some wild rice. You'll love it."

"I'm sure I will."

We dug into the meal that Sookie prepared and I can tell you that it tasted as good as it smelled. It involved taking a whole chicken and browning it in a large pot, then adding a few vegetables and covering the pot with foil and putting the lid on it. The pot went into the oven on low heat for a few hours and the result was mouthwatering tender and flavorful chicken. After dinner, she pulled out an apple pie that she had made as well. I was impressed. We took our pie and settled in on the couch in the living room to watch a movie. Sookie chose to watch Dinner for Schmucks. I was glad, because I didn't think I was really up for a cartoon tonight.

Sookie was right, the movie was really funny. Somehow, it's like she knew that I needed to laugh. I belly laughed and I thought it would be a long time before I was able to laugh like that again. Today was a good day.

A/N – Thanks so much for all of your encouragement, your reviews and your alerts. I really appreciate it! I've decided that I'll press on with these two and see how it goes. I hope you'll enjoy their adventure.

French Chicken in a Pot is really easy and quite delicious. And Dinner for Schmucks is a stupid, funny movie.

Disclaimer – Charlaine Harris owns the SVM. Lucky Lady.