A/N Hi again. There's a lot less dialog in this chapter, I hope you do not mind too much. Again, thank you for your very encouraging reviews. I'm pleased to have the positive feedback. You can let me know if I mess up, as well. :D Just don't be too harsh about it!
We head down to the lobby to see what is in store for us. It's just before noon, and Trudy greets us with a smile as soon as we step off the elevator. I'm headed straight for the coffee and so Eric points for Trudy to meet us in the little alcove. I don't need it per se, I've had a very good morning so far, but I'm accustomed. I choose a French vanilla flavoured pod and Eric settles for something plain. I'd never get one of these Keurig things for myself. In general, they seemed faddy and unnecessarily expensive for all their component bits, if all you want is a cup of coffee. Actually, they're probably okay if all you want is a cup of coffee. Because that's all you get. I like to keep a pot on when I'm around the house though. The usual fruit and breakfast things are nowhere in sight. It's practically lunchtime after all.
Trudy meets us while we are sipping and she's obviously very excited. Apparently this is the weekend of an annual garden tour that's supposed to be really nice. People in Uptown open their homes, well, their gardens, just for these two days. You get to take a peek in on other people's zens. It seems like a really nice idea to me, and I turn to look up at Eric with an eager expression on my face, only to find his is strained. Trudy catches it as well and quickly changes tack. I see her shuffling through the brochures in her neat little folder before pulling up one for a cultural museum when Eric excuses himself and goes back to the main lobby.
Trudy looks panic stricken as we watch him approach an elderly couple and she quickly excuses herself as well and I see her return to the desk. What in the world? I'm left standing here sipping my coffee until Eric turns to beckon me over. At least he didn't forget about me. I pick up Eric's cup where he had left it and pace over to join the little group handing his over as I give the strangers a little smile.
"Grandfather, Fahma, This is Sookie Stackhouse," he says by way of introduction. Oh, this is Sten Northman then. Well, he owns the hotel I guess, so it's not terribly weird that he's here right now. I suppose he has to check in once and a while.
"Sookie, these are my grandparents, Sten and Inge Northman," Eric continues.
"I'm pleased to meet you," I say, and I offer each one of them a smile in turn. His grandmother takes my hand briefly and his grandfather gives me an acknowledging nod.
"Miss Stackhouse, we heard about the trouble last night and wanted to make sure you both are well," his grandmother offers with a concerned expression. He calls her Fahma. That's adorable.
"Oh!" I say. Well, that explains everything then. That's pretty sweet of them. "Yes, I think we are. I was badly shaken up, but they only took our money, and we got back here alright," I offer.
Eric agrees with a nod, "There's no harm done." Sten gives a little grunt, apparently not satisfied with that. "No lasting harm done," Eric qualifies. "It was a small price to pay for our safety," he finishes.
At this point, Inge cannot contain herself and takes the two steps toward Eric and gives him a tight hug. He drops his arms around her shoulders and begins to pat her. It goes on just a bit too long, and the other three of us have a chance to glance at each other before Sten clears his throat and presses a hand to Inge's back ready to try to coax her off their grandson. She takes the hint and pulls away.
"Stuart called last night," she says as she steps back. "Eric why didn't you call us, we would have come right over."
Eric and his grandfather exchange a glance. Somehow it seems to be communicated that that is not, in fact, the case.
"Stuart called you?" Eric questions.
"Yes. I think the police being called to one of my properties in the middle of the night merits a phone call," Sten says, in a scolding tone.
"As I said, we are fine," says Eric. "Sookie was a bit worse for wear when we got back here, but she was settled down in a few minutes."
They turn to me and I nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed now. I guess I had really been a wreck. "I was just so scared at the time, I mean I have been around guns before, my brother is a hunter, but never," I make a little gesture with my arm at nothing in particular. "Like that," I finish.
"Guns!" his grandmother repeats, and Eric huffs out a sigh. Oops. I guess he was planning on downplaying the details of our little encounter. Eric gestures over to a seating area, suggesting that we settle down so that he can provide the full explanation that is apparently now required. Sorry about that.
Eric gives the Northmans a succinct version of events, beginning with the fact that we were returning back from a dinner in the French Quarter and ending with the detectives' assurances that the matter was most likely closed. Throughout the story his grandmother had gasped and fretted and nodded and sighed. She was a lively audience.
"It sounds as though you handled yourself well," was his grandfather's only observation when the story was through.
"He did," I assure. It got me looks from all three. I'd been silent for a while, and maybe they'd forgotten I was there. They seemed surprised to hear from me again. "I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't been there," I say, with a hint of adoration in my tone. It's true though. As much as I like to think I could handle a situation like that on my own, I knew I wouldn't have had the sense of mind to hold on to my wallet and purse, and if I'd been alone on a dark street when they came up at me, well... I gave a little shudder internally. I just didn't want to think about the possibilities.
Eric gave me a little smile. I sort of sensed that maybe he would have leaned over and squeezed my hand if we were in different company, but he didn't.
"Well then," Sten says. He's got his hands pressed to his knees, ready to stand up, but his wife knocks the wind from his sails. It's clear that she hasn't seen Eric in a while. He's had practically her undivided attention.
"Eric, how long are you in town? Can you come out to the house for dinner?" she asks. Oh.
"We're flying out tomorrow actually," he says, ignoring the dinner invitation. "I've been here all week trying to sort out a few things. We've got a little business with Threadgill," he offers. Sten grunts at the sound of the name. He must not like him either.
"I wish you would have called, Eric," Inge says again. "We could have made plans for this weekend if I knew you were here. As it is, we have to be going in a minute. There's a garden tour that we have tickets for, and I really want to see Bev's new koi pond before we're over there at Easter or she won't stop going on about fish pellets and Japanese importers through the whole brunch again."
So, that's how we ended up spending the afternoon with Eric's grandparents. It was a little awkward sorting it out. I'd lit up at hearing about the tour again and told them Trudy had suggested it for us as well. Apparently Eric's grandmother knew half the people who owned the homes on the tour and had been promised to go for weeks. Sten was completely indifferent and while Eric made it clear that this was not his first choice of activities for the day, he completely caved in to his grandmother, who he had evidently not seen since Christmastime.
We took their car over to the meeting point for the tour, both to save time, and because we were, "Absolutely not," walking anywhere around here, Sten had ruled. I guess I couldn't blame him for overreacting a little, given what had happened to us last night, but it was broad daylight and we were a party of four. Eric had rolled his eyes at me before handing me into the car once Inge was settled in the front. I found myself surprised that Sten drove himself. Eric had told me that he liked to drive, but didn't have a car here anymore. I guess it runs in the family.
Sten had let us out to go and park and while Inge was chatting with several other women she seemed to know well, Eric pulled me aside.
"This is not what I planned for today," he's telling me. His voice is low so that we're not overheard.
"We didn't have anything planned for today," I reply. "They're your family. It's good that you get to see them," I assure him. I don't really mind. It's strange to have met them, especially after this morning, but since he's given them no indication about our relationship, I'm not feeling too uncomfortable. Wait, relationship? I didn't mean it like that. I'm pretty sure they have made the assumption that I'm just a business associate of Eric's, since they haven't been paying me much mind. I'm fine with that. Whatever is between he and I right now, I am not thinking any further. Maybe I will have an eff-buddy when he's in town. Amelia will be so proud of me. I've never had one of those before! She has a couple of her own. Maybe I just won't see him again. It would be a pity since he's turned out to be so nice, but I'm fully conscious of the possibility that this week was a one-shot deal. It's been nice for what it was. I'll think about it more if he brings it up.
I want to give him a little hug or something to assure him I don't mind that the dreamy afternoon that I'd envisioned in our little post-coital bubble has been replaced by a Northman family reunion. He doesn't seem too pleased with it himself. I can see that he's sort of slid into his business veneer. I don't get a chance to say anything more because Inge has pulled him away to show him off to her friends. Sten joins their group and I'm left standing aside, so I go ahead and start leafing through the pamphlet that Trudy left us with. Apparently the proceeds from this weekend's tours will be donated to one of the parks in the city. That seems like a very nice idea. There's a little blurb about how this is their fifteenth year doing it, and how it was all thought up over a lunch date. I think probably by some of the women in Inge's circle of friends, if not the ones she's showing Eric off to right now.
We set off on the walking tour, and I found myself sandwiched between the group of women who have crowded around our expert Garden Guide and Sten, who is bringing up the rear with a couple of other husbands. The women have circled around Eric. He has his grandmother on one arm and one of her friends on the other. After listening to the Garden Guide give his introduction about the tour itself we set off on the short walk to the first house, which is large and obviously well kept, without being ostentatious. The guide lets us in to the back and suddenly we are surrounded by topiary and landscaping and a riot of early spring blooms. The group thins out a bit and we are free to wander through the little paths beneath the arbours and trellises. Maintaining something like this year round must be a full-time job! Possibly more than one person's. I feel something brush against my butt, and I turn sharply, worried that I've backed into something. Eric is just behind me again, though he's turned away and apparently deep in conversation about early irises. Oh I see how it's going to be. I give him a pat in kind and raise him a lingering squeeze before I wander off.
"Have you been with Area Five for long, Miss Stackhouse?" We're walking along to the next garden and Sten has come up beside me. I pause for a brief moment because I am not sure how I'm expected to answer this question. I hadn't been introduced to them with any credentials, and the truth of the entire matter was just too wacky for small talk. I glance up to look for Eric for a cue, but he's apparently been aware of me, and jumps right in before I can truly panic.
"Sookie has been doing some consulting work for us while she is here this week," he offers easily. "But in her real life, she teaches math," he smiles. For some reason the fact that I'm a teacher has always amused the heck out of both him and Pam. What exactly is wrong with being a school teacher? I love it.
"Oh really?" Sten asks with polite interest.
"Yes sir," I answer. "I was teaching with the Parish for a couple of years and then tutoring privately," I offer. More of these vague details. I am getting a handle on this evasiveness thing. Not sure that's good in general.
"She's just in the process of resettling down here," Eric steers. "She's got a house outside of Shreveport, but is set to make her base here in town."
"That's a lovely area, Shreveport," one of the ladies interjects. "We have a house up there and we don't get up there enough!"
The bubbly woman, who introduces herself to me as Patti, takes my arm and sweeps me up in conversation about the greater Shreveport area. She reminds me a little bit of my Gran's friends, the kind ones, who are delighted to talk with any 'young person'. Patti is my amicable companion for the next two houses and we compare our own gardening notes. I realize I'm getting kind of excited to plant this year, and resolve to start sprucing up our flowerbeds once I'm back in Bon Temps this week. Bill and I had let them go by the wayside last year. I just hadn't felt up to it, since Gran's gardens were always her thing. I really missed her. I got another brush through my hair as Eric passed by me with Sten, but it would have been too obvious if I tried retaliating right then.
"Bev's new koi pond," as it turns out, was the focal point of an amazingly beautiful Japanese-style water garden that seemed to comprise the whole backyard of what was otherwise a characteristic Victorian home in the neighbourhood. I was awed. Our expert Garden Guide was waxing on about the Sakuteiki and how its aesthetic principles were incorporated here. Essentially it's the traditional Japanese gardening manual, which was interesting to learn. He kept saying the name along with some other terms as he pointed out various features with what I'm assuming was the correct pronunciation. Since in general he had the same southern lilt as me and most of the rest of us, I couldn't help but grow more amused every time he did it. Inge was chatting to the house's owner along with Sten and another couple and Eric came up beside me.
"I've declined the invitation to dinner," he says. "This is more than enough."
I frown a little bit at that because it's been so obvious that Inge's enjoying having Eric around today. I offer to find my own meal and meet up with him for a movie or something later on, but he's firm about not drawing his time with his family out. I kind of want to hit him since I've been thinking about my own grandmother all afternoon and how much she would have enjoyed all this, and how much I would have enjoyed seeing her pleasure with it. It's clear he's not all that close with his family, and that it's by his choice. I want to ask what that's about, but it's probably not my business. I find I'd been chewing on my lip again when Eric steps in front of me to shield me from the rest of the group and then pulls it back with his thumb again, tracing across it.
I'm at a loss for what to say so I simply turn away and set my gaze on a passel of water lilies and comment about it being beautiful here, and he agrees. The last stop on our tour brings us to a French formal garden planted with joyful swirls of spring blooms and low labyrinthine hedges in symmetric paths. Sten and Eric have had their fill and are standing up on the patio while the rest of the group meanders among the impeccably neat flowerbeds. Inge comes up beside me and links my arm with hers, placing her other hand over it.
"I have to thank you," she says, and I'm surprised, since I've done nothing that would merit her thanks. "I really never get him for an afternoon like this." She glances over to Eric and Sten for a moment.
"Oh, I'm just glad you didn't mind me tagging along," I say.
"No, I think he would have made his excuses at the hotel if not for you," she presses.
"It's been lovely, I wish I had the time to devote to something like this," I sweep my hand. "Every one has been just amazing. It must take years," I finish.
"Yes, it is a project for a lifetime," she agrees. "Now, Eric tells me you are just moving back to New Orleans?"
I smile at this. I had the impression earlier that Sten was trying to get a bead on me when he'd sidled up before, so I suppose they've traded off. I find it cute. "Yes," I answer. "It's still a bit up in the air as to the when. I've yet to secure a position down here."
"And you're a teacher?" she tries to confirm.
"Yes. And since most of the schools won't be hiring before the fall, I'm not sure how quickly I'll get settled back here, but this is where I want to be. I'll enjoy tending to the gardens at my grandmother's old place in the meantime though, after all this," I wave my hand to indicate the sprawling garden as we walk, and the afternoon in general.
"I do love New Orleans," she agrees. "We've been here for thirty years."
"I love it, I moved down for school and stayed when I finished."
"That can't have been too long ago. Where is it you're moving back from now?" And here it is, the direct line of questioning.
"Seattle," I say.
"Oh, with Eric's team?" Her tone is all innocuous.
"As an adjunct to the team, I think. My former..." I trail off. "It's a bit recent, Mrs. Northman," I apologize. "Your grandson sort of landed with me by coincidence this week. He's just been the kindest friend I could ask for through the whole thing." Okay, we'll just drop the whole pretence that I'm a business contact. While we're at it, we'll give this woman my whole life's story. What is it with little old ladies and their subtle, precision information gathering? Does this super-power kick in at menopause? Gran was pretty good for this too.
"Hmm," she muses. "Well, this is the right city for a fresh start," she concludes.
"I certainly hope it is," I agree. I think I'm out of the deep end now. She guides us back to the patio where the rest of the tour group has gathered and drops my arm in favour of Sten's. We chat for a few minutes about the charity, and then Eric offers himself and me to go and fetch the car. We're only a short walk back from our starting point, but I can see that Inge, at least, is starting to look a bit weary. They gratefully agreed and as soon as we had rounded the corner Eric's hand found the small of my back and he pulled me to a quick kiss.
"I'm afraid I told my grandmother about your entire situation," he confesses immediately. "I'm sorry."
I burst out laughing. "She got me too," I admit. "Somewhat, anyway. I hinted at Bill and that you'd just got stuck with me by chance this week."
"She was curious about who you were," he says. "You may have picked up on the fact that I don't see them often."
"I don't see why though," I respond without a care. "They were lovely."
He doesn't answer that though, and we walk the rest of the way to the car in quiet. Eric excuses us once we'd brought their car back to them, telling them we'd stay in the area to find a bite to eat. His grandmother took care to warn us to take a car back to the hotel in case we found ourselves out after dark again, and he assured her that we would while rolling his eyes at me over her head as he hugged her goodbye. I shook hands with both of them and they told me they'd been pleased to meet me.
"Where to now, Mister Northman?" I asked, once they'd pulled away.
"Is it too early for bed?" he's grinning.
Apparently it wasn't. We got a taxi back to the hotel and I found myself out of my dress practically before his door closed. We stood, stripping each other off, and lavishing kisses and caresses on each inch of skin as it appeared until he scooped me up and carried me to his bed. The maids had been in. Who knows what they thought of the mess we'd left. I didn't care. As he set me down I reached for him, pulling him down with me. More so than this morning it was gradual and unhurried. He stroked and licked at my breasts until it was nearly maddening and I found myself pressing my own thighs together and rolling my hips until I rose and fell from that alone. He bent to kiss me as I shivered, whispering compliments, soothing me.
He made his way down my body at the same worshipful pace and parted my legs, tasting me. I came again before he moved to enter me, and when he did he pulled me up across his knees, holding my chest to his with one arm tight around my back and holding my mouth to his with the other at my throat and in my hair. He kept his thrusts steady, lifting me and every impulse in me screamed that this should be frantic but he refused, holding me tighter as I strained to push him faster. When I broke again I found myself wrapped around his neck and panting and felt him finally buck and jolt beneath me as he finished with a groan. He laid me down again and broke away with his arms outstretched, one still cradling my head, the other flung to his opposite side. He was breathing heavily and it hadn't been from the pace.
It had seemed like making love, but it wasn't. I wasn't sure what that just was, but it hadn't exactly felt like fucking. I clapped my hand across my mouth as shocked with myself as though I'd said that out loud, and then started giggling. I really and truly couldn't help it. He lifted his head to look over at me, and some of his hair had fallen across his nose and he didn't seem to notice it. I laughed harder and he finally smiled back. I leaned over to tuck his hair away and he caught my arm, pulling me back against his chest.
"What's funny?" he asked.
"Me," I grin against him. "I'm ashamed to admit I have dirty thoughts about you."
"I encourage you to tell me about that sometime."
"Of course not!" I object, "It was private."
For some reason that has him laughing now and I lift my head to look at him. "What?"
"I just can't even imagine what you consider private when," and here he brings his hand between my legs and strokes two fingers through my lips. I shiver. "This is how I've left you," he finishes, and then draws his hand up again, tasting his own fingers. Oh. God. I'm sort of mesmerized, and then he offers them to me. I take them in my mouth and run my tongue across them, drawing at them. He pulls them away. "Shower?" he asks. I nod.
Once we were clean I was standing naked in front of his mirror and drying my hair with a towel. I was feeling pretty happy. I've had a lot of sex today, and it had all been top notch. Also, there had been all sorts of beautiful flowers and the fish pond. He'd found clothes again and turned up in the doorway. He was watching me with his amused grin again when I looked over.
"Yes?" I ask.
He brings my dress and underwear over and sets them on the counter. He's even folded them neatly into a little pile. Aw. "I'd figured you to be more modest," he says, gesturing at me.
"I am modest," I reply. I see his hairbrush on the counter and point to it. "May I?"
He nods. I brush out my hair quickly and then start to dress. He continues to watch me until I'm all straightened out. "What?" I ask finally when it's clear from his staring that he's got something on his mind.
"You seem very comfortable, with yourself."
I give a little laugh, "Is that a bad thing?" I ask.
"No. Maybe atypical."
"Atypical? Cause I don't rush to cover up right away after you've had your penis in me?" Hee. I've shocked him with my sassy mouth. I can see it on his face.
"Not atypical. Well yes, but not with a negative connotation to it. A lot of women do just that, rush to cover up."
I shrug. I'd be a seriously discontented person if I were too worried about what a lot of other women do. "I am, just... comfortable. That's the right word. It took me a long time to get comfortable, and be comfortable when it's appropriate, and now, I just am. Sorry if it bugs you," I finish, sounding a little annoyed at the end.
"It doesn't," he assures me. "I like you naked. I like you in these," he lifts the hem of my dress and I swish it away from him with a twist of my hips. "I was just making an observation."
"Okay," I say. I don't really want to dwell on this. "I'm really hungry," I say. Ideally, we will order in, but I don't know if he wants to go out. "Also, I need to make a phone call," I remember suddenly that I need to call Lafayette.
"Can we just order room service?" he asks. I smile. "Not that I have anything about being out now, but I don't really feel like going out tonight." I grin a bit more at that. I plan to be extra wary on darkened streets myself from now on, but it's not going to keep me in either. Tonight though, I want to be in as well. We are on the exact same page.
"That sounds great." We go out and I grab my phone and then step out onto his balcony, asking him to just pick something for me.
"Hi Laf," I say when he answers. "Busy?"
"Jus gettin' this already gorgeous ass a little more prettied up, why?"
"Well, I have a plan. I'm getting in tomorrow night and I'm staying at a hotel. Monday, and if I need it Tuesday, I'm packing up."
"So that's it, you're homeward bound for sure?"
"For sure. There's been some other stuff come up. There's no chance for reconciliation."
"You gun' tell me?"
"Yes, though I was hoping maybe I could do it over dinner and a bottle of wine on Monday night? And then when you're all liquored up, I can convince you to help me with the heavy stuff on Tuesday, if you're free?"
"I'm free," he says. "What kind of other stuff?"
"I'm honest to God embarrassed I didn't see it's been lies all along," I sigh. I swear, I was on cloud nine just a couple of seconds ago.
"He only showed you what he wanted you to see," he comforts.
"And that's all I looked at," I say.
"Well don't you worry yo'self 'bout him no mo' sweet thang," he says, and pauses before continuing. I can hear him moving around. He's getting ready to go out for the night. "He gon' be there watchin' while I'm helpin' you pack? I'll wear my extra sho't sho'ts cause I know he likes 'em."
I give a faint little laugh at that. Bill does not like Lafayette's short shorts at all. "He'll be out of town, which is why I'm coming so soon. Eric is making him go on a business trip all week so I can pack up."
"That was nice of Eric," he says.
"It was," I agree. He put a little emphasis on Eric's name, and I'm not biting. He knows it, too.
"Alright then Miss Just Be That Way. I got all the men waitin' on me, so I'll see you Monday Night to be wined and dined," he says.
"Okay, I'll see you Monday, hun. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hang up and go inside to find Eric stretched out on the couch flipping through the channels on television. I tuck myself in beside him and suggest he find a movie for us to watch when dinner arrives, if he doesn't mind eating on the couch, that is. He says he'll make an exception for tonight. I'm not sure if he is being sarcastic or not, but when dinner finally does arrive, he just brings the tray over to the coffee table and slides the whole thing over for us. He's ordered me a club sandwich with French fries and a salad and when I hold the salad up in mock indignation he assures me that he was only trying to hit all the food groups. I eat everything, including the strawberry shortcake he got me for dessert. That was his 'fruit'. After we finished, I stretched out next to him and he amused himself by wrapping his arm around me and rubbing my very full tummy. I teased him not to get any ideas. I've been on the shot for years now anyway, so it's not happening. Bill and I weren't ready for kids. That's how we fell asleep.
I woke up feeling cosy, despite sleeping on the couch. They were pretty comfortable. I wonder if they picked them thinking they could be slept on. Eric was still curled around me, and while I didn't want to get up and move, I sort of had to. I carefully disentangled myself from him and went to the bathroom, picking up the towels that he'd left strewn across the bedroom floor along the way. When I was through I returned to find that he'd still not woken up and so I stood there for a few minutes wondering how to manoeuvre myself back in beside him without disturbing him. Deciding it was impossible, I reached the only logical conclusion that a woman can come to in this situation. Wake Eric up with oral sex.
He was half erect when I inched his sleep pants down, and I felt him grow in my hand as I licked and sucked and nibbled him into consciousness. He didn't say anything when he finally did wake up, but once I felt his hand in my hair I let my lips slide down his length and my ministrations took on a more deliberate rhythm. "I'm...ah...going..." was all he breathed out before his hand balled into a fist around the roots of my hair and he thrust forward as he came. I pulled away slowly, swallowing, and letting my tongue swirl around him as I withdrew. I licked at my own lips while I tucked him back in. "Get up here," he said, and I crawled back on to the couch with him and he kissed me. He hugged me closed to him and stroked across my back lazily. I didn't feel compelled to say anything. He'd had a treat. He'd deserved it.
Finally a little more awake he offered, "Good morning to you, too."
I smirked. "I need to get up actually now," I say, squirming a bit in his arms.
"No you don't."
"I need to go pack," I say. I'm not sure why. I don't actually want to leave yet. Gee, that was a little profound, wasn't it? I don't want to leave this couch and I don't want to go back to Seattle, but it was winding down very rapidly. We had a few hours yet before we had to be at the airport, but that was all.
He grumbled about it, but he released me. He didn't get up as well, so I leaned down to kiss him once more and then left. When I got back to my suite I realized that my things had spread out quite a bit. I started gathering everything up from around the rooms and tossing it all on to the bed. I grabbed my new little suitcase and packed everything away, except for the trousers, blouse, and shoes I meant to wear on the flight. I sorted out all of the little laundry bags and threw away all the plastic. I found a tie and a handkerchief of Eric's. The latter hadn't been laundered, so I packed it. I folded the tie and set it aside with my itinerary and the few other things that were going into my big purse, which I intended to use as a carry on again. Actually, this little suitcase could probably be carried on too.
When everything was more or less packed I decided to make a final visit into the shower. I took an extra long time again, pampering myself, savouring it. I've got to see about getting one of these for myself. I dried my hair thoroughly and did my makeup, and then I dressed and set my bag by the door and did a final once over through the room. I took up the book of Jade's suggestion and began to read until it was time to go. I wasn't feeling in the mood for a romance.
He knocked on my door when it was time for us to leave. He had his garment bag again, along with his briefcase. He was wearing a suit. I smiled at that a little. For some reason I was just of the belief that you should dress nicely when you travel. You never know who you will meet. I certainly feel like I'd proved my own point this week. We're a bit subdued on the way to the airport. I'm sure it's partially because our magical week or weekend is over, and partially because going to the airport in general is an ordeal, and then of course there's the fact that neither of us is thrilled about our destination. I for obvious reasons, and he because he's gearing up for a terrible week, work-wise.
We get through security with no issues and proceed to the lounge as we still have some time before our flight. He gets me a gin and tonic and it makes me smile that he remembers my preference. I drink it down because I can still get a little nervous flying, when I'm not otherwise distracted by an emotional breakdown. We don't really settle back into what I'd already started to consider 'normal' until we've boarded the plane and he puts up the armrest between us to tug me toward him. He reminds me that I promised to snuggle.
"I don't recall I promised," I say, even as I lean against him.
"But I am on my best behaviour," he argues.
"Hmm," I sound, and furrow my brow a bit to indicate I'm mulling it over. "Not sure I would call this your best, but since we're in a public place, I'll take it for now." He's smirking. I can feel him smirking. He nuzzles into my hair a bit.
A bit later, once the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign, and I've got my arm curled around his chest again, he goes ahead and raises the subject we've been ignoring. "When do you think you'll be done at the condo?"
"I'm thinking I'll get all the little stuff packed up tomorrow, and finish anything heavier on Tuesday. I've got a lot of books that are going to need hauling, and Laf will help me out."
"I didn't realize trashy paperbacks were that heavy," he says. Oh pfft. I tickle up his side causing him to squirm.
"Real books. I give romances to the library when I'm done with them," I say.
"So you'll be done by Wednesday," he concludes.
"Hopefully," I agree. "I can have the movers come on Wednesday to take everything away."
"And then you will leave," he says.
"Then I will go home," I agree.
"Maybe we can have dinner on Tuesday," he suggests. Okay, I smile at that a bit. I haven't said anything about the expiration date on this little tryst. It's sort of felt implied. I had pretty much figured I'd be saying goodbye for indefinitely today.
"Sure, if you can."
"Good then."
The rest of the flight was uneventful. We chatted about Seattle in general and did the obligatory making-fun of the crummy weather. I had my coat with me again, it would be the first time in a week I'd really need it. We teased and joked and nuzzled and maybe made out a little bit. Just a little though. We had another keen flight attendant who was eager with the ginger ale refills. When we arrived and headed down to the baggage and pickup area I got caught up short when I saw the driver holding up a sign for Northman. I'd just assumed that I would give him a ride home, since I had a rental car booked. We said a hasty goodbye and I got a quick peck and then he was gone. I pulled my bags over to the rental desk and sorted out my car.
I checked the little map that Pam had included for me, but it wasn't really necessary. The hotel was not too far from the condo and I would have no problem finding it. The weather was doing a great job to match my dreary mood as I drove. Overcast and threatening to rain. That about covered it. I reminded myself that I was setting off to do what needed to be done. And that this was the first day of the rest of my life. Also that I was a strong and independent woman who could definitely handle this. I finally had to let myself go a bit numb. I'd been getting too depressed again. I didn't start to buck up until I switched on the radio and heard Beyonce's Single Ladies. I sang along. I took it as a sign. I hadn't gotten to church this morning, but I had taken a few quiet moments to reflect.
Maybe my faith seems corny to some people. I'm educated, I've heard the arguments. It was how I'd been raised up though, and as an adult it was a fundamental comfort. I'd thanked God for my blessings, which in spite of my trials, still seemed many. Eric and Pam, Amelia and Lafayette. The kindness of friends and also of strangers. I thanked God for the strength I found and the strength I was able to borrow, and for the comfort I'd received. In return, he sent me the boost I needed to make it through the next leg of my journey, courtesy of a silly song. It worked to get me through checking into the hotel. I parked in the underground lot and was met by a polite woman at the desk. She had a nametag on, but she didn't introduce herself. She checked me in and confirmed I would be departing on Wednesday. I nodded to her that this was the plan.
My room was just a room. Neat and tidy but far from sumptuous. They have a laundry service but I'm not going to bother. I could just do everything at the condo tomorrow. I contact the first moving company on Pam's list and made arrangements to meet them on Wednesday morning at the condo, and to pick up boxes and packing supplies in the morning. I called Lafayette and Jason to let them know I'd gotten in okay. Neither was answering, so I sent texts. I sat in the small chair next to the window which couldn't be opened and started composing emails to the few contacts I'd made in town, letting them know that I'd be relocating to Louisiana once again. I didn't bother with any long explanations. At best, I'd be deemed impetuous, if I were deemed at all. At worst, I'm sure I came off flighty, capricious. Adding even the most neutral details of my story wouldn't do much to change any of these opinions. Maybe it would colour thoughts with a bit of pity, but I didn't care for their pity or their bad opinions anyway.
That's how I spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening, closing things out. I'd have to go to the post office again and file another change of address. I'd have to contact my bank and credit card and my few other accounts in the morning. There was only so much I could do on a Sunday evening. I found myself wishing that I could go ahead over to the condo and just get started. As if on cue, my phone buzzed with a text from Pam.
Sent by Pam - 6:13 p.m. I assume you have arrived. B and L flying at 10. Stay put til tomorrow.
I guess she'd heard from Eric to know we'd arrived okay. I wonder if he'll hint at what happened between us. I'm sort of hoping not, since the idea seemed to upset her so much. I don't have the impression that they gab about their love-lives or anything, but she was bold enough to ask him flat out on something like this. I don't really want to deal with her being annoyed with me. Despite what she believes, it has nothing to do with her. I don't intend on putting her 'in the middle' of anything. I'm fond of her, for all her brusqueness. I reply to her text that I got in just fine and promised not to go over early.
My phone chimed and I saw it was an email from Jade. I was a little surprised, but pleasantly so. I had ended up shooting off a quick email to thank her for supplying the book list after all, and telling her I was off to a great start. Her reply told me that she was glad I was enjoying and gave a couple of other suggested readings. My impulse was to write back right away and tell her that I'd finished the one on the plane and I'd loved it and would definitely be working down the rest of her list, but I caught myself. I was more than a little wary about striking up a friendship with her. In the first place, I'd apparently thrown my hat in with the Area Five people and she was, after all, a corporate rival. In the second, I was still prickling with guilt about what seemed to be in store for Tara. I didn't want to add to it, nor put myself in a position again where I knew another secret I felt pressured or conflicted about divulging.
I went out for a walk and found something to eat. I hadn't eaten all day but I wasn't particularly hungry. It was just something to fill the time. I made it until nine o'clock, dithering about until I fell asleep with the television on. I didn't sleep well, waking up a few times with that unsettled, uneasy feeling that follows a nightmare. I couldn't remember what I had been dreaming of though. When it happened again around six I decided that was it, and I got up. I brought my little suitcase full of dirty laundry down to the rental car with me and headed over to the, to Bill's, condo.
I don't know what I was expecting when I unlocked the door to the place I'd tentatively considered home. What I met was only the familiar smell that was his and mine combined. I walked through, flipping on lights. I went straight to the bedroom. I knew they weren't there, but I had to check. I stood in the doorway and had flashes back to what I'd walked in on a week ago I started to shudder at my thoughts but then I stopped myself. I went ahead and whipped my grandmother's pillowcases off the bed and left the rest. I'd bought the new bedding, but I sure as heck didn't want it now. I carried them through to the kitchen and filled the sink with cold water to wash them in. The tiny laundry room is back behind the pantry.
It's as I left it a week ago, right down to the load of his trousers still left in the drier. Well they're completely wrinkled now and it's not my problem. I scoop them out and carry them back to the bedroom where I toss them on to the bed. I don't even consider folding them. I sort through the hamper and find a few of my things mixed in with his. His dirty ones go flying to land on the bed right on top of his clean ones as I'm picking through. I carry my own clothes back and get the first load started. For all the lists and plans I've made this week, tackling how I intend to clean out the house was not one of them. Since I'm just right here though, I go ahead and start in the kitchen. I clear off the table and decide to bring down everything that's mine and leave it there to be packed up.
I'm amused when I find a carton of milk in the fridge. That, along with the various containers of leftover takeout food that he's been eating this week will have spoiled by the time he gets home in five days. I've half a mind to just leave the door wide open. Maybe I will right before I leave. No sense in assaulting my own nose for the next two days. Bill had always been fine with leaving the domestic things to me. He might be a genius with software development, but it never occurs to him to empty the fridge of things that will spoil or...yick. I've just opened the cabinet under the sink and the garbage can is still full. Really Bill? Well, you can just enjoy coming home to that aroma as well.
My grandmother's china was still on display in the cabinet in Bon Temps. He didn't care for the pattern. It wasn't really my preference either, so we left it there. I had brought her silverware up with us and I strained to lift the heavy chest down from its high cabinet. The coffee pot had been a birthday present from him, but that still made it mine, and I liked it, so I set it on the table with the other to-pack items. I had a lot of little tools, some antique and some I'd just been picking up myself for the last couple of years. There was also the crockpot, which we used once a week, and which I knew he loved, but too darn bad, it was coming home with me. Amelia and I bought ours at the same time after school, when we were first living in our own respective new places.
The table was pretty full by the time I was done, and I went ahead and started making a list in the phone for all the things that I wasn't taking and would probably need to replace. I also pulled out a few dry groceries of mine, things he wouldn't eat. It would save me a trip to the store. I changed the laundry out and phoned the moving company, who were now open, so I went ahead and drove over to get my packing supplies. I ended up with way more boxes than I could possibly fill. I could return them or just take them with me. I'd find a use for them. They're useful, boxes.
Actually packing things turned out to be a lot more time consuming than merely pulling them off the shelves, but by mid morning the kitchen was clear, the boxes neatly labelled "KITCHEN" on all sides, and they were stacked up next to the front door. I went for the bedroom next, and I went with determination. The first thing I did was pack a suitcase full of all my favourite things. This would be travelling with me on the plane. I packed the rest of my things into boxes, clearing out my half of the dresser and all of the things hanging in the closet, along with my shoes. When I looked back at his things hanging in the closet, I decided that yes, I did want my padded hangers. I just let his suits and dress shirts fall to the floor, as though the hangers had never been there. They were all still neatly ordered, blue and white and black and grey, with the colours on the end...just...a bit closer to eye level for the worm. Okay, maybe that was a little petty. But now they're already down there.
The bathroom was quick as well, and I took out my own products and appliances and had that box packed and sealed in just a few minutes. I'd thrown the few odds and ends from my nightstand in there as well. That was it for the bathroom and bedroom, except for my full length mirror. I made slow work of hauling it all back out into the entryway. I plopped myself down to take a breather. I'd been surprised to find no evidence of Lorena back there. I guess I had assumed he would go ahead and move her in, or that I'd at least find some indication of her presence here. I'd mentally prepared myself for it. There was nothing though. All for the best. Just because I had convinced myself I could deal with it didn't mean I wanted to have to.
The guest bedroom took me the rest of the afternoon. Most of the things we had kept from Gran had ended up in here, along with a small bookcase full of my books. As I carefully packed the many tchotchkes I thought quite a lot about childhood things. Most of this was stuff I had known when I was very small, but which had been packed away when Jason and I came to live with Gran, then slowly emerged again over the years as we grew old enough to be trusted to not break things. Then there were the pieces of Jason and I growing up. The first baseball that Jason ever hit for a home run was propped on a stand inside a little glass box, the same as if it were one signed by Mickey Mantel. I think I'd give that to him when I got back. He'd get a real kick out of it.
There was a picture of my parents, which had always sat on my bedside table. It was mixed in with the many more pictures of his own family on the antique dressing table which had also been my grandmother's. The furniture was all too heavy to move by myself tonight, but I planned to simply take what of his things remained and arrange them on the floor back in their same positions. I was liking the idea of him coming home to find my things just gone, like they'd never been there at all. No disarray, just everything which was me, vanished. Only for the sake of this poetic justice, I went back to the bedroom and pulled his dirty clothes back off the pile on the bed and shoved them back in the hamper. Then I tossed the clean things back in the drier where I'd found them.
It was getting late and I was tired, so I grabbed a nice bottle of wine and opened it to breathe and called in a massive order of soul food from a little restaurant that Lafayette had shown me when I'd moved out here. I drove to pick it up and by the time I was back, I had barely unpacked it when I heard a knock on the door. I checked the peephole to make sure it was him, and let Lafayette inside.
He hugged me but was quickly distracted as he drew in a deep breath, smelling the air. "Girl, you brought me back home foods?" he said excitedly.
"I picked up the closest thing to on this coast, I hope you don't mind it," I say.
He scoffs at me, and then playfully nudges me aside as he sashays past me down the corridor made narrower by the boxes piled against one wall, and into the kitchen. I've set the table with Bill's dishes, as mine are now packed. I managed a pretty nice spread of fried chicken, green beans, stewed okra, catfish fingers, and of course, cornbread. There was pecan pie for dessert. I'll bring it out later.
"How heavy is that furniture you want me to move?" he asks sceptically, looking over the table.
I laugh at that. "It's not so bad I couldn't manage if I had to, but I'll appreciate the help."
"Baby girl, I have cancelled a class just for you," he says, and immediately I feel terrible. He's teaching an intro-level course this semester while he continues his post-grad work. It's his first formal teaching job beyond the tutoring and the writing centre. "And before you interrupt," he continues, cutting me off before I start, "They've got a test next week, so we're just calling it a study day." Well, alright then.
He sits down and pours himself a bottle of wine, and I wait to see where he wants me to start, conversationally. It's Bill. So, I tell him all about the housing allowance that's apparently been a part of his salary all along, and then the moving allowance, and the fact that he tricked my new phone number out of Rebecca. This is a lesser point, but Lafayette does not like her at all and so he takes considerable umbrage at what is, in his opinion, her characteristic thoughtlessness. I just laugh at this, because I know he knows he's being over-the-top about it on purpose. She had no reason to suspect Bill. I hadn't handed out any warnings or details when I gave out my new number. We had dinner all together once, and she spilled soda on him, and wasn't "sorry enough" about it. That's her big crime, in his eyes.
"And since thinking it over," I continue, steering us back on track, "I'm pretty sure that it's been a long-term thing. Maybe all along. Eric thinks so too. All the working weekends...I know plenty of people who do, or who bring work home with them. I never even thought to question it then, but now, it just seems obvious." I look up at him with a sad little smile. "So, I'm a dope, basically. I should have seen this coming."
"You know you can't actually blame yourself for this, right?"
"Can't I, a little? The more I think about it, the more I realize that he made it clear that what we had, our whole life practically, wasn't enough for him. I just don't understand why he wouldn't," I pause, trying to find the right words. "Cut me loose. Even now he seems determined to tell me more lies, when his whole jig is up." I finish.
"You'd have to ask him I 'spose. But then you'd have to talk to him," he concludes.
"Yeah and I really don't want to either, so I guess I'll sit here wondering for a while yet," I say.
"So now you're gon' tell me about who is Eric," he says, sitting back and swirling the wine in his glass around as he looks at me expectantly.
"You know who Eric is," I say. "He has decided to be my friend, and did his good deed for the decade taking in a little lost me and taking care of me for the week."
"And did he take care of all of you?" He's teasing me. The little he knows of Eric to date is that he's Bill's hot boss, who comes off as a lecher. And even knowing that he's just joking around, I am completely unable to prevent myself from turning a vivid pink in seconds.
"He did!" Lafayette gasps, shocked with me. "You naughty rebounding little vixen!" He leans over and takes a little smack at me and I shake my head at him.
"It's not quite like that, there were extenuating circumstances," I say. He continues to tsk and cluck at me until I finally quiet him down. I explain about our sort-of date, and then about the mugging, which he has him gasping and gaping at me all over again.
"Sook you have had a fucking ridiculous week," he says seriously once he's calmed down a bit. He is absolutely correct. That is exactly what this has been.
"I know!" I agree. "But anyway, we went to bed that night, and then in the morning...and then in the afternoon and evening. And then a little tiny bit this morning," I finish, hastily.
"I knew you sounded strange when you called," he says. He is shaking his head and grinning at me. "Well," he starts, pondering. "Well, well, well."
"Laf, it was just a thing. I'm not even sure I'll see him again. I'm allowed to have just a thing with Bill's hot-ass boss," I say, with every ounce of confidence and maybe a sliver of defiance.
"And is it a very hot ass?" he asks.
"Oh yes," I confirm with a nod as I grin back at him.