Recap of previous chapter: Sookie discovers that Eric has left his architecture firm. Andre and Sophie-Anne refuse to provide her with any information about Eric and seem to be suspicious of her. Still in the hospital with E.J., Sookie re-connects with Tara, disclosing details about Eric.

Thanks, makesmyheadspin!

Chapter 5: Fun and Games

"Moms, over the next few days, your breasts are going to become engorged as milk production begins."

The nurse speaking to the small group of us being discharged from the hospital that day stood in front of a huge cartoon poster of a monster-like breast looming over the face of an infant, his face scrunched in exaggerated frustration.

"I'm going to give you some tips on how to get through this phase." She lectured in a stiff, well-rehearsed tone of voice, one that spoke of the female body turned into a daily grind, mere anatomical parts, mundane.

I leaned sharply to one side of my tortuously hard chair, cursing the fact that I had forgotten my donut. All of the other moms and dads seemed to be listening with rapt attention, even taking notes. The room was stifling hot. Either that or I was having a post-partum hot flash. I could feel myself starting to sweat.

Focusing back on the nurse, I watched her pick up a beat-up bag of frozen peas and apply it to a model breast on the table beside her. Next to me, Tara barely stifled a snicker. "Thank God she demonstrated that business, or I wouldn't have known where to put the peas."

Nurse pursed her Pepto-Bismol pink lips in our direction. Gran had tried out a shade like that a few times. I pictured the small white sample tube from Avon that had floated around her makeup drawer for a few years.

Squirming in my seat, I wondered why no one else seemed to be having the same problems. Did I really belong here?

"I could stay out here all day. Why can't summer last all year?"

Eric and I lay on our stomachs, face-to-face on long rafts linked together, floating and bobbing in the bay. I wanted to fold this kind of day inward, origami-like, tucked into the nooks and crannies of me. It was the kind of day when the intense heat from the sun dried the salt to my skin, pricking it with every movement in a way that reminded me that I was not just going through the motions, not just getting by, but really feeling the zap and zing of every living moment. Because that's not what happens in winter, when whole smudges of days pass unnoticed- from sunrise to sunset- behind dense banks of clouds.

The gentle waves had had a lulling, hypnotizing effect on Eric. He was awake, his eyes open, but not really looking at anything in particular, just gazing. Studying his face, I noticed that this placid, peaceful expression looked different, maybe more relaxed, from the composed quiet look I often saw. Flecks of sand clung to his still damp hair. I imagined my own fingers laced through the wet strands, pushing them back off his face. He'd given me his elastic tie to pull back my hair.

Bracing up on my elbows, I folded my arms in front of me, where I propped my chin. He did the same, his broad shoulders rippling as he moved in tandem with me.

Hunh. That was interesting. I mean, yeah, those shoulders of his had gotten my attention on more than one occasion, but that's not what I was noticing now.

Was he aware of it? Aware that he was shadowing my movements?

I laughed to myself. Who was I kidding? I doubted Eric had ever taken orders from anyone. But here, in this relaxed state, without even realizing it, he had synched up with me.

I wondered how far I could push it.

I cocked my head ever-so-slightly to one side.

So did he.

Hmm. Would he go back the other way? I leaned ever-so-slightly to the other side.

So did he. Heh-heh.

I scratched my nose.

Ditto.

I giggled. It was almost too good to be true.

"Hmm? What's so funny?"

I couldn't help but to reach over and brush his cheek then. He'd become more alert, and when I leaned forward, seeking the press of his lips, he was suddenly gone, slipped into the water. Surfacing near my side of the raft, he shook great droplets of cold saltwater all over me.

Alive and awake and face up to the sun, I would feel his every touch.

My head suddenly dropped forward, jolting me awake, as Nurse Pepto was spouting off, "Nine."

Sweet Jesus, was there no end in sight?

"If your nipple and areola are swollen, try softening them up before you nurse by expressing some milk." As she said the word "softening," she made a stiff little "wipe on" kind of motion, like the Karate Kid.

I had had enough. "Does she have a black belt in lactation consultation?" I whispered to Tara, who got my joke immediately.

She quipped back, "Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth."

I shook with a held back laugh, my eyes starting to tear up. Nurse Pepto, meanwhile, had reached over to grasp the breast to demonstrate, which had the effect of sobering up Tara right quick.

"You may also want to become comfortable using an electric pump."

From underneath the table, she wheeled out a heavy-duty, hospital grade breast pump, as though she had been saving it for the highlight of her demonstration. And that was when I decided I just couldn't take any more. I hauled myself up to a standing position and tugged on Tara.

Together, the two of us spilled out into the hall, our stifled giggles exploding into full-blown snorts and guffaws before the door even closed fully behind us. Tara was doing Karate Kid kinds of moves. After another moment of tension-relieving silliness, we composed ourselves enough to pass by the lecture window on our way back to my hospital room. Pepto was in the middle of another demonstration.

"Are those cabbage leaves?" Tara gasped.

"Come on," I urged. "I've already pushed the bounds of our friendship enough today."

Back in the room, I endured a mess of discharge paperwork, yet another exam, and more post-partum care instructions. And then, after all of the rigmarole, E.J. and I were set free, wheeled down to the front door, and unceremoniously deposited on the sidewalk where, I considered soberly, the wide world was unleashed on us.

"Just think about this, Tara. It's his first time outside. Ever."

JB had been kind enough to take my car to the police station to have E.J.'s car seat base installed properly. Tara lifted the carrier into the back seat and snapped it in place before pushing the handle down.

"And this is his first car ride. Ever." I could feel myself starting to tear up. Damn hormones.

Tara looked over at me, appraising my status. She pulled down the visor.

"Can you grab me some sunglasses?" she asked, pointing toward her purse.

Squinting in my direction, Tara looked me over. "I think the eyes are a little uneven."

I was holding an orange shirt up to me with a black felt face pinned in place. Crescent-shaped eyes, triangular nose, and a gaping toothy grin. After adjusting the eyes, I held it up again.

"Looks good. I mean…it's even now."

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming me, Tara."

"I'm sorry. I just don't know that it's the right idea. Are you sure? 'Cuz not everyone has the same sense of humor you do."

"I've already made up my mind."

"Right. And I know there's no changing your mind once it's made up."

"Call it commitment."

"Stubbornness."

"Perseverance," I corrected.

"But why take more heat than you have to? Why stir the pot? Not to make anything more out of this than it already is, but let's face it. You're pretty well-known around here—you're the granddaughter of St. Adele—and your pregnancy is going to be…news. You know how nasty people can be."

I had meant it when I said I had already made up my mind. Halloween, complete with tricks and treats, costumes, and dark creatures of the night, would serve as my coming out party. I had already started to pop, my bump rising just over my belly button now. In not long, it would be impossible to hide it with baggy sweaters, baby-doll shirts, and a work apron stuffed with my Big Book of Everything. If I didn't take charge, people would start speculating.

So today, during my afternoon and evening shifts at Merlotte's , I would dress as a jack-o'-lantern and stake a claim on my own…condition. I would own it—not anyone else.

"Maxine Fortenberry is going to have a field day with this."

"Of course she is. I wouldn't expect any less from her. But she'll have a field day no matter how I make the announcement. This way, I get to have the first laugh."

"Whatever."

"All I have to do, really, is tell Arlene, and then my work is done."

"What about Sam?"

I paused. "I'll have to talk to Sam in private, first thing." Truth was, Sam was the only person I was truly nervous about telling tonight. And maybe Lafayette. I had already told Jason.

Jay had broken out in a huge grin, congratulating me briefly before sighing in relief that he wasn't the one in trouble for once.

"All right, well I don't think I can say anything else. Don't know why I even tried. JB and I will stop by, but if you need me, call me."

I sat down to sew my shirt. Tara, on the sofa next to me, was leafing through the latest issue of Glamoured.

"Listen to this. It's a Halloween survey. 'How to Pick Your Beast Mate.'"

"Read me the questions." I was whip stitching around the eyes.

"Okay. Question 1. After a round of sex, I like my lover to (A) Spoon me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear."

"What are sweet nothings?"

"You know…tender words of endearment."

"I know, but why do they call them sweet nothings?"

"Well, they're sweet…"

"Right, but I hope they don't mean 'nothing.' That doesn't sound very romantic, does it? If some guy is whispering romantic words in my ear, he better mean it and not be saying it just to get in my pants."

"Do you want me to keep reading?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay. First question still. After a round of sex, I like my lover to…Option A is spoon/sweet nothing, etc., (B) is 'Say goodnight and leave' and (C) is 'Go for Round 2.'"

Tara looked at me. "Your answer?"

"I love romance, but I'm stuck on that 'sweet nothings' expression. Who wouldn't want a second round? I'd like a little romance and then round 2."

"Your answer?"

"All right, all right. If I have to pick just one, I guess I pick C—Go for Round 2."

"Okay. Second question."

"Wait a minute! What do you pick?"

"I'll take the spooning-sweet nothing business. Can I go on now?"

I nodded.

"Second question. My favorite ice cream is…"

"Ice cream?"

"That's what it says."

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"Wait a minute! There's a footnote down at the bottom saying that under no circumstances should this survey be given to a social work student."

"Ouch!" I had pricked myself with the needle.

"Should I go on? Can you behave yourself?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay. Ice cream options are (A) Rocky Road, (B) Plain vanilla or (C) Gel…gel-ay-to."

"Gel-ahh-to," I corrected.

"What's that?"

"Don't you remember we had gelato that time we spent the day in the North End?" The North End was Boston's Italian district, full of restaurants and markets, not to mention the Old North Church, where the famous lanterns had been hung on Paul Revere's ride.

"I remember the cannolis," Tara groaned.

"Yeah, but after we stuffed ourselves full of cannolis, we made a little extra room for gelato."

"Ugh," Tara groaned again, nodding. "All right. I pick plain vanilla. How about you?"

"Rocky Road.

The survey continued with eight more questions, over which Tara and I continued to bicker.

"Finally!" she huffed, adding up the point tallies. "Okay. Here's what it says. You ready to listen?"

"My mouth is closed."

"Okay. You are definitely a fan of the fang. Your natural tendency to not trust your partner will keep you on your toes with this twisty creature of the night. He's met his match! You like a good challenge! You enjoy his stealthy, mysterious ways. Though sometimes you complain of his cocky arrogance, in secret, deep inside, his confidence in his own powers is a turn on for you. You are no wimp, able to stand up to him when his possessiveness and high-handedness flare up from time to time. Ease any tensions by keeping you and your vamp satisfied in bed with regular sex, and he'll drop that pesky subject of bonding. You are a free woman, after all, enjoying your independence."

"That's just crazy. What about you?"

"According to this, I should love a mummy."

"Tara, do you really think I'm a vamp lover?"

"What?"

"You know…that stupid Halloween survey. It said I have a hard time trusting people and getting close to them."

"Is that what it said?"

"Something like that."

"Do you really want to do this now?"

"Yeah." We were on our way home from the hospital. E.J., asleep in his infant carrier in the back, was dead to the world, missing his first experience of life outside the hospital.

Tara pulled the car off to the side of the road, put it in park, and turned sideways in her seat to face me.

"Why now? You have a lot on your plate today."

"I think last summer Eric was trying to get closer to me, but I didn't notice. I had my mind on...other things."

After a pause, she prompted, "Okay."

"So do you think I'm a vamp lover?"

"You're wondering whether you might have missed something with him because you have a hard time trusting men?"

I nodded, feeling the tears starting to well yet again. This was getting to be a really unpleasant habit. Tara reached into her purse to pull out a travel pack of tissues.

"All right, look. I'm not going to lay a bunch of bad relationship advice on you from one of those women's magazines. But here's what you've told me. People do the best they can at the time."

"I said that?"

Tara nodded. "On more than one occasion."

I smiled weakly.

"Done beating yourself up?"

"I guess."

Tara pulled back out onto the road.

"So is JB your mummy?"

In about ten minutes, we were pulling up next to my home…I mean, our home. E.J.'s and mine. Cripes. The tears started again. Balloons, streamers, and a big "Congratulations" banner decorated the front of the house. No sooner had Tara put the car in park than Sam, Lafayette, JB, and Jason were streaming outside to welcome us. Opening my door, Sam held his arm out to help me up out of the car while JB grabbed E.J..

Heading inside, I was hit with the nauseating smell of Jay's cooking.

"How about some American chop suey, Sookie?"

Sam didn't usually serve it, but he always put it on the special list on Halloween because it was popular with kids and families. I had, as planned, gone ahead with my outing, dressing as a jack-o'-lantern. As predicted, I had barely removed my coat in the break room when Arlene assaulted me.

"Oh, my god, Sookie! You're pregnant!"

I held my arms out, as if to display the evidence on hand.

Arlene, an experienced mother (not to mention a first-hand expert of unplanned pregnancies) reached toward me- my first encounter with hands breeching my personal space- and gushed, "You're about four months now, aren't you? Oh…that means your due date is sometime in March. Lucky you! During my first pregnancy, I spent the last trimester suffering in the summer heat. Ankles swelled up like balloons."

Arlene seemed to be hitting a bunch of firsts. This would be my first experience with another mother marching out her pregnancy and birth story.

"Well, just look at you! I didn't notice it until now, but girl, you've definitely popped. No hiding it now, is there?"

I suspected that Arlene took secret glee in not being the only one having gotten knocked up.

"You are going to cause a stir tonight."

Arlene's eyes had narrowed, taking on a jealous gleam. Dressed in her tarted-up French maid's costume (how cliché), she was just realizing that she might be outshone by a foolishly grinning jack-o'-lantern. "Well, I'll be happy to run interference for you. I know how people around here can be. But oh my goodness, they are going to be surprised it's you."

"Thanks, Arlene. By the way, where's Sam? I want to be the one to tell him."

"Sam had to run out and pick up some last minute supplies. We must have missed a delivery this week."

"If you see him, send him my way."

Composing myself, I headed straight for the kitchen. Lafayette glanced up at me, said a casual hello, turned back toward the steak bomb he was frying on the griddle, and then did a double take.

"Is that all you?" he said, pointing at my midsection with his spatula. I had a mental image of his poking at me, testing to see whether I was hiding any padding.

"This is me," I said. "And another little person in the works." I watched his face, studying it for a reaction, but it remained smooth.

"Come here." He opened his arms wide for a hug. "Please tell me it's not Quinn's."

"Not Quinn's."

"All right, then." He turned back to his steak bomb. "But you look ridiculous."

And then I waded out into the diner. The early dinner crowd was just starting to trickle in. It was the first time I'd noticed so many children and families. They'd come for an early meal, presumably to eat something healthy before loading up on sugar. It seemed that everywhere I looked was a squirming mass of princesses, Power Rangers, and Jedi knights.

Selah and L.L. had arrived for an early dinner too. Selah was wearing a long dark wig, jeans, and a flannel shirt. L.L.'s hair looked like it had been electrocuted and then gelled in place. Sparkly shit covered his skin.

"L.L. have you been to a transvestite convention? Go back there and have Lafayette help you out with that."

L.L. smiled, revealing plastic vampire teeth. "Thookie!" he lisped, even drooling a little down the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I get it! You're Edward!" And looking at Selah, I added, "And you're Bella! Now I see the bite marks!" Selah had two red dots on her neck.

L.L. popped out his teeth. "Where's your costume? Don't you usually dress up? Last year weren't you…"

I dropped my tray to my side, fully revealing the grinning jack-o'-lantern.

"A p-pumpkin?" L.L. stammered. He was looking at me with a confused, panicked look on his face. He actually already had found out about my pregnancy, second only to Tara, but had been sworn to secrecy. I suspected that his discomfort was his uncertainty about whether it was time to spill the beans. Also, I'm sure he would not want Selah knowing that he was privy to a very personal part of my life.

I let him squirm a little longer. "Well, actually, no, it's a jack-o'-lantern." And then I grasped my hands around my belly.

Selah gasped. "You're pregnant?" She looked hesitantly at L.L.. I knew they'd be having a little conversation as soon as I walked away.

"Yep. It's true! About four months now. I should be due towards the end of March. Just starting to show now, so I guessed it was time to let everyone in on my good news. Now, what can I get you to drink?"

After taking their order, I headed to the kitchen. Sam came back, hauling bags and boxes from the local restaurant supply warehouse. I heard him cursing as he struggled to manage the back door, so I checked to see if I could help. He barely glanced up as he pulled in a heavy box, "Sookie, could you go back to the truck and grab some of those bags of paper towels?"

"Sure, Sam." It didn't seem like the right moment to have a discussion with him, but pretty soon he'd be noticing my costume. I didn't know when to interrupt him. He definitely had a harried look on his face. I knew he'd be worried about getting back into the kitchen to help Lafayette keep up with the dinner crowd. It would be a busy night, starting now until well into the night. I pulled out a few bags and hauled them up the steps, passing him along the way.

"Sam…"

"I'm going to need to get a new supplier. I know I put that order in last week. I can't waste all of my time chasing down my supplies."

"Sam…"

"Thanks for filling in for Amelia tonight."

"No problem."

"Where did she say she was going? Salem?"

"Yeah. I guess she and Tray got invited to a witch hunt re-enactment."

"That town is going to be crawling with crazies tonight." He grunted as he lifted another heavy box. "Could you grab that last bag?"

I crawled all the way into the back of the truck, pulling the last bag across the bed, and started to scoot back down on my backside.

"Thanks. I'm gonna run and check on Lafayette."

"Sam…"

"Jesus, Sookie!"

I froze, my feet dangling down from the dropped tailgate with my arms leaning back behind me. Sam, standing at the top of the steps by the door, was looking down toward me clambering out of the truck. My belly protruded out noticeably, perched as I was on the edge of the bed. He had a look of horror on his face.

"Sam…I…" My body tensed.

"Are those tri-fold paper towels?"

"Yeah." He'd gotten the wrong kind for the bathrooms.

"Dammit, it's too late to do anything about it now. How did I do that? We'll be stuck with tri-fold paper towels for the next 18 years."

"Sam, I'm pregnant!" I blurted out.

My words had the effect of slamming everything to a complete halt, giving us both whiplash.

"Pregnant?" he questioned, the words still sinking in. Then, noticing my grinning jack-o'-lantern, his face settled into recognition. Was that a flash of anger? And then concern as he realized I was still perched on the edge, hauling out a package of paper towels.

"Oh! Let me help you with that! You probably shouldn't be lifting anything heavy, right?" He'd turned all business-like. "I guess we'll have to figure out how to re-arrange some of your duties and responsibilities. Maybe you and the other servers can come up with a plan so that…" he prattled on, rambling about heavy lifting and getting me off my feet, especially in the last trimester.

"Sam, it's okay. I'm pregnant, not sick."

"Oh. Right." Still, he helped me down from the truck, barely glancing at me, and pulling out the towels himself. "Well, I better go help Lafayette." He escorted me inside, closing the door behind us before darting away. I barely saw him the rest of the night.

A/N Who knew the cooling perineal pads from last chapter would be so popular? (And to think they almost met the chopping block). LOL…It's always interesting to me to hear what resonates with others—or doesn't, for that matter—so thanks for sharing your comments.

Special thanks to peppermintyrose for her extra comments, and to my DH, who took the day off for my b-day so I could have some extra time to do what he calls my "zoney thing." xoxo

Up next: Eric's first visit to Sookie's house last summer. ;)

Disclaimer: All SVM characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just taking them on a tour of New England.