I am not a great shopper. This stems from the fact that we didn't do a lot of superfluous shopping when I was growing up. I simply hadn't had the practice. We hadn't been able to. It wasn't a big deal. A lot of people were like that where I'm from. Most, even. I was never shabby. I wasn't one of those kids. The ones you can tell are poor by the way they turn up to school. The ones who get teased. I know that's an ugly thing to say, but unfortunately it's true. It happens. There are those kids. I had been a well loved and well cared for child. I was never teased. Well, I was never teased unmercifully. There was a lot of "Sookie-Cookie" when I was in grade school and "Ah, Sookie, Sookie now," once my boobs came in (matter of fact, I still get that one sometimes), but nothing harsh. We were working class people in what is basically a working class town. We watched our pennies when I was growing up, like everyone else.
At university, my girls had done their best to teach me about things like fashion and proper designers, and it took to some extent. I had a bit more style now. I knew what I liked and what looked good on me and where to find it. I knew what did not flatter me, and how to avoid it. I'll tell you right now, that's plenty more than a lot of people know, even among those who shop all the time! On the whole, though, I'm not a great shopper. I don't go to the mall on weekends and just buy things for no particular purpose but to fill an afternoon. I don't get a little thrill when I unpack a glossy printed bag. I have never "shopped 'til I dropped."
All that being said, one thing that truly excited me about having my own place, my first and very own space, was the prospect of outfitting it with my own things. To slowly fill it with items that suited me. Not heirlooms, not antiques. Not things that were just selected to fill a need, but rather, things I adored and wanted. Things that would reflect me. I intended to take my time with it. I welcomed the chance to treat it as a labour of love. And so, I began by spending an enjoyable couple of days picking out area rugs, curtains, bath mats, a coat rack, a towel stand, and other things that amounted to the bare necessities, with a few embellishments thrown in. My big splurge was made in the living room. I didn't have anything for in there, at all. Rather than leave a big empty room, I bought a nice sofa and a wide club chair, and a large ottoman that could be moved in front of either.
Furniture in general was an issue. I kitted myself out with some basic, utilitarian pieces, mostly from Walmart and Ikea, or similar places. They were inexpensive and not built to last. If I'm being honest, it was a little bit 'dorm room.' Still, it was preferable to say, eating off the floor in the kitchen.
That's exactly where I was when Eric found me Thursday night at eight o'clock. He'd told me he was going to be late again, so I told him I'd be over at the house. My house, for all intents and purposes. Possession is nine-tenths of the law! There was a knock at the door and then it opened. I frowned because I'd just scoffed at Madge earlier in the week for reminding me to shoot the locks, yet clearly I'd forgotten. In my defence, I was armed. Or legged, at least.
"Sookie?" I heard him query the seemingly empty space. His voice was raised enough that I'd have heard him from upstairs.
I wave the table leg I was holding over my head so it would show above the counter if you were looking straight towards the kitchen from the front door. "In here!" I call out.
He comes into view carrying a plastic bag that smells like some kind of delicious, greasy food, and sets it on the counter.
"I accounted for there being no plates or knives or forks, but I did not account for there not being a table," he smirks.
"I'm almost done," I tell him, and deftly screw the last of the last of the legs into the upturned tabletop. I stand and pull it up and over. It's simple and white and sturdy enough for now. I have four matching wooden chairs that go with it, and I push them and then stand back with a gesture of ta-da.
This was his first time being here. I'd showed him the outside last weekend, just driving by, so he knew where it was, but he'd never been inside before now. "Are you famished?" I ask him, looking at the bag of food for a moment. "I want to give you the tour," I grin.
"I will take the tour," he smiles.
I took his jacket and hung it on the rack beside the door, and proceeded to show him all around. I'd gotten all the windows curtained, and had rugs or runners down everywhere they were needed. I warned him to watch his head coming up the stairs. He was fine, but it was a near thing. If he'd flexed his ankles up he could have hit it. It was pretty empty upstairs, except for the bathroom which, barring the absence of my many bottles and lotions and a stack of clean towels, was pretty well outfitted. I watched with interest as he stepped into the dry, empty bathtub. It was large enough for him to recline, up to his neck if he bent his knees a little, and it was probably wide enough that I could fit between his legs. Maybe. I'm sure we could make it work if or hopefully when necessity arose.
He stepped in the shower and nodded approvingly at the discovery that the showerhead was high enough that he wouldn't have to hunch to get his head under it. He beckoned me over and pulled me inside. Unceremoniously he lifted my leg and hoisted it above his hip, securing my foot against the wall. He raised my hips so I was on tiptoe on my standing foot, but because of the leverage I gained from my raised foot against the wall it wasn't too taxing to maintain the position. He ground against me and involuntarily I let out a breathy sigh. We were both still fully clothed of course.
"I can work with this," he said, with an air of affected indifference that was so not reflected in the sudden bulge in his pants or my flushed cheeks. He stepped away and wandered off into the empty bedroom.
"You are fooling no one, buddy," I muttered following after him.
My bedroom was more or less bare. I'd gotten white curtains with a border of eyelet lace ends and a simple mahogany curtain rod, and a white rectangular area rug. White and white, to go with the white walls and white moulding. Real creative, huh? I sighed and explained to him that I had no idea what I wanted to do with the bedroom. He assured me that I'd figure it out. We went back down and ate the dinner he had brought, which was thai food. It was good that he had gotten some cashew chicken he intended to keep all to himself, because the pad thai was mine. I'd been busy all day and was very hungry.
The only problem that Eric's plan had presented was the fact that I had to reschedule the surveyor's visit, so Mr. Herveaux would be coming over on Saturday, instead of today, as was initially planned. The woman at their office had been a total pill about it, and had wanted to charge me a fee for cancelling and rescheduling the appointment so late. I guess the actual guy had been standing right there in her office during our conversation because I heard him saying he could just take his day off today and come by on Saturday to work, and then she put me on hold for about an hour (not really, six or seven minutes) and then came back and said that rescheduling for Saturday would be just fine, thank you Miss Stackhouse. Their company was getting a fair bit of work out of my family this month between Jason and I, and I appreciated their accommodation.
Jason had received only bad news from Herveaux and Son. The damage to his house had been a lot more substantial than we'd realized initially. The fire had ravaged the whole back wall, we knew that much, but what we hadn't known was the fact that it had burned up through the crawl space damaging the whole roof, and that between the charring heat and pressure of the hoses used to put out the fire, there'd been damage to some of the structural support in the middle of the house. Jason told me that as soon as Alcide had discovered that, he'd high-tailed it out of the house like it could fall at any moment, and had given his professional opinion that the home should not be re-entered under any circumstances as it was unsafe. It was a good thing that Jason and Crystal had already gotten all their stuff removed before finding all that out. That they had been able to do so without being injured had apparently been sheer luck.
The bottom line was that it would be literally cheaper to tear the house down to the slab and rebuild or replace with a prefab house, than to attempt to repair the existing structure. It tore at my heart to know that the home my parents had built for our family, where Jason and I were meant to grow up, was going to be levelled. I knew my brother was taking it even harder than I. After all, he had a lot more memories of both the house and our parents, and of course, it had become his house. I made it very clear to him in no uncertain terms that he was welcome to Gran's as long as he and Crystal needed or wanted to stay. When I said it I had meant it. I'd meant it even if that turned out to be forever.
We closed up the house and I rode with Eric back to the hotel in his car. We left mine in my little driveway to save us an extra trip picking it up on Sunday. He'd leave his car in valet over the weekend (they'd look after it, perks of being the boss) and we'd take a town car over to the rental place. I'd follow him to return the truck and drop him back at the hotel Monday morning. Suffice to say that renting a vehicle of any sort requires a great deal of coordination, but we had our plan. We'd each packed small bags for our weekend journey. He had asked me if he should bother bringing anything nice, and I told him only if he was going to come to church with me. I think he thought I was kidding.
Eric's meeting on Friday morning was shorter than I'd anticipated it would be. He was back by ten thirty, and in good spirits. All he really had done was commission his team to bid aggressively on this property that Inge and Sten had wanted. He'd set a high cap for them, but he did set a cap, which had been contrary to Inge's wishes. Eric explained to me that he'd been in touch with the architect who had done the drafting work for them. This turned out to be the exact right person to contact for quick information, since he had already done the discovery work regarding the property when laying out his design proposal. There were evidently some very strict limitations in place by the government for the use of the land, the extent they could develop the forest and the beach, and how large any buildings could be. If Viktor was going to be spiteful, not only would he pay through the nose for the opportunity, but he wouldn't even be able to use the land for what he presumably wanted. It would be a lose/lose for his father, and Eric deemed this to be a highly satisfactory situation.
I felt pretty proud of Eric as he explained it all. I could tell that he was feeling proud of himself as well. He was just a good businessman. It was very beneficial for him to see that he could be one in any particular business. Concluding his account of the morning, he mentioned to me that Inge had invited us for a "Sunday Dinner" the following weekend. I smiled at that, and told him I was happy to go along but the decision was his. He said he would consider it. Baby steps, I suppose.
Eric actually had fun driving the big truck up to Bon Temps. It was designed to carry very heavy loads, and of course it was empty on the way there. That resulted in a surprising amount of pickup. It wouldn't be inaccurate to describe our trip up as careening. We got back to Gran's before either Jason or Crystal was home from work and discovered that the whole front room of the house and part of the porch were filled with boxes of the things they had been able to save from Jason's house. Unfortunately a lot of it still stunk like smoke so the first thing I did when we got in was push open windows and get the fans on. I sprayed some air freshener, which wouldn't prevent the smell from returning, but it would at least mask it for now.
Eric was keen to get started moving some of the boxes that were still packed up in my room out to the truck, so we made a few trips that would at least allow us to have some more space to move around. Gran's poor house was looking awfully like a way station for displaced Stackhouses this week. I guess that's what it was being, though. It hadn't taken very long to largely clear the bedroom. We even got the new bed on the truck before Jason pulled up. I gave my brother a hug and then left him to talk with Eric outside. He had to show off his injury of course and they had men-things to talk about, or something.
I surveyed the refrigerator and the freezer and the cabinets and started pulling down ingredients to make dinner. I had some chicken which I popped in the microwave to defrost. I found mushrooms in the fridge and knew I had some Marsala wine in the pantry, so that made the decision for what to make pretty easy. I texted Crystal to let her know that we'd arrived and asked what time she'd be home so I could start dinner. She said she'd be another hour. I had plenty of time. I went out to check on the men. They were now comparing stories of old injuries. I teased Eric not to forget to tell Jason about the time he'd gotten walloped on the back by a sailboat boom and gone plunging into the Gulf. His shocked face at the realization that I knew that story was priceless. I told them if they wanted showers before dinner now was the time and not long after they trudged inside to do just that.
They were washed and sitting at the kitchen table with a couple of my brother's beers and I was browning the chicken cutlets when Crystal came in. I flipped the burner on for the pasta water and went back to my chicken and then worked on the mushrooms and the sauce. She came out a bit later and put together a salad (the green kind), and not long after that the four of us sat down to some truly delicious Chicken Marsala, if I do say so myself. Crystal and I were talking about the recipe, which was pretty easy even though it sounded fancy. The secret to all these fancy sauces is deglazing. Also, butter. Eric and Jason ate dutifully, leaving us nothing in the way of leftovers. It was a really lovely domestic scene.
After dinner my brother started making noises about going out to shoot pool again and while Eric seemed interested, I just wasn't up for a night at the bar. Crystal was on the same page as me. She couldn't drink of course, and the smoke gave her a headache anymore. Somehow we found ourselves bidding the pair of them goodbye after Crystal gave stern warnings not to be too late or drink too much. I didn't really feel compelled to give Eric the same mandates. He'd already showed me he knew his limits, so I just told him to call if they found they needed a ride home. He'd just grinned at that and kissed me and went off to enjoy his guy's night out.
It was weird in a delightful way to see my brother and a boyfriend of mine getting along. It was a first. In high school of course Jason'd had only hard stares for anyone who looked sidelong at me, his little sister (not that there had been so many). Then of course there had been Bill. It was strange to see it with Eric as well, whose social life, hitherto, had consisted of work related functions and dating rich but classless ho's. (No, I would never be forgiving Escort and all her ilk.) Crystal and I had cleared away the dinner things and she made up a pot of decaffeinated herbal tea, which she lamented was practically the only thing she was allowed to drink besides water. When we sat back down at the table I felt compelled to comment on how pleased I was that our men were getting along.
"It's kinda surprising," she agrees.
"I know. I gotta say, I didn't think my brother would ever grow up Crys, but you've really been so good for him," I tell her earnestly.
"Thank you," she smiles. "But I kind of meant with your Eric, more."
I nod. "Yeah, he doesn't really do the buddy thing. He seems like a person who has pretty much let his work be he life, you know?"
"I guess so," she agrees. "But I meant, I mean, isn't he kind of slumming here?"
I frown. "I don't understand."
"Well we saw in the paper last time you guys where here about how his granddaddy had died and left him his fortune? It was in the Shreveport Times, and we get that delivered every day at work. I mean, we didn't know at the time that he was somebody famous when he was here before. He acts so regular."
Still frowning. I guess I really hadn't realized how big a story that had been. I suppose I should have. Five people had died, four of them kids and one of them a prominent local businessman. Amelia was right again, that certainly was big news in the state. A real tragedy. Considering how we'd found out that Sten was injured, I felt like a Slow Joe for this not having dawned on me much sooner.
"He's not famous," I disagree. "Just something newsworthy happened to his family."
"But he's still like, really rich, right?"
"I...don't know. I suppose so. I know he has a good job, and his family has money, but he's not like, Bill Gates or something."
"It's still like a far cry from Bon Temps," she argues.
"I...suppose so?" I repeat. "I don't think he thinks about it in those terms? I know I don't."
"Well but that's still your type, right?"
"Eric? Yeah, apparently he is." I force a smile.
"No, rich," she says flatly.
"Uh, no?" I retort. The pallor of uneasiness I'd been clutching to my chest seems to creep outward from me and settle over the whole room now.
"I don't mean it as an insult!" she says quickly. Are you sure about that? "That's just what you like. I mean that Bill guy was rich, and then he gave you all that land just for nothing."
"Bill wasn't rich when I met him," I say stiffly. "And coming into money didn't do much to improve him, quite the opposite, as you may have noticed. All that land was something he bought in my name without even consulting me, after which point he had to give it to me. And I'm the one that'll be stuck paying the tax on it now so I wouldn't really call that doing me a favour!" I say, my voice rising by the end of my explanatory speech.
"Sookie, you're taking this the whole wrong way. I didn't mean anything bad by it. It's good that you got out of this town and went to New Orleans and are doing your thing to improve yourself. I didn't. I mean, I love Jason of course, but you know."
"No Crystal, I really do not know," I state. "I'm not datin' Eric to 'improve myself,' I'm datin' him because he's good to me and I love him. And for your information, more often than not, the fact that he's wealthy makes me feel humble, small, and awkward, and I spend a whole lot of time tryin' to ignore it." I'm upset. My accent is full out.
Silence fell in the kitchen as she made no response. Good to know that my future sister thinks I'm some gold-digging whore, banging my way through New Orleans on a mission of self-improvement. I finished my lukewarm tea in one big gulp and got up, put the cup in the sink, and excused myself. I went back to my bedroom and shut the door. Not slammed, just shut. I felt myself starting to tear up. I went into the shower and stayed in there until the water ran cold. When I got out, I heard the television on in the room next door so turned on the blow dryer to drown out the noise. It was still going when I finished so I tuned my little clock radio to the first anything else I could find, pulled on a tank top and a pair of shorts and got into bed.
I heard Eric come in a couple of hours later and realized that he was deliberately trying to be quiet and not turn on the light, so I spoke up to let him know I was awake, and he needn't keep that up.
"Hey," I said sleepily. "Did you guys have fun?" I ask.
"Sorry if I woke you," he says.
"You didn't," I assure.
He did flip on the light then, and I grabbed a pillow and crushed it over my face for a second, easing into the brightness.
"Sorry," I hear him say. "We had fun, yes. It was interesting."
"What happened?" I ask. Interesting in reference to a night out is a worry word.
"Well, we won twenty bucks off your old boyfriend."
"My old boyfriend?" I ask.
"J.B. DuRone," he clarifies.
I chuckle a little at that. "He took me to prom. I don't know if I would have called him a boyfriend."
"Well he certainly remembers you fondly." Oh dear. I'm not getting anything from his tone, either. Once he's got his bearings he turns off the light again. I hear him stripping off his clothes and he joins me in bed giving a murmur of appreciation at how comfortable it is. Success! But back to the point.
"Explain," I request.
"He asked Jason 'what that pretty sister of his was up to lately,' and then went on a bit about your many virtues until I got around to introducing myself, which shut him up. And then Jason and I defended your honour by beating him at pool four times in a row."
I chuckled a little. J.B. and I had never been intimate, and I didn't think he would have implied anything remotely in the range of that in the presence of Jason, so I wasn't terribly worried despite Eric's vague explanation. "Well, as long as my honour is intact, my virtues are all yours."
"Yes, I impressed that point on him. I hope you do not mind." I give his chest a little pat and snuggle against him. "Did you girls have fun?"
"Nope." I answer right away, popping the p.
"Everything alright?"
"Not really." My momentary cheerfulness has fallen right away again.
"Want to talk about it?" Here's where I should have said 'no.'
I sigh. "She read an article about you after your grandfather died and now she has issues with your financial status. She thinks that tonight, you were out slumming with Jason. She thinks that I am dating you for your money, and that this is my way of pulling myself up from this small town life she is resigned to."
"Ah," he says lightly. "And you're not, right? Dating me for my money?"
"Eric are you frickin' serious right now?" Does he really think that? "Of course I'm not! I said to her how darn uneasy it makes me most of the time. How can you even ask that? I have offered to pay you back for the lawyer and you refused, I would even pay for having stayed at the hotel if I thought for half a minute you would accept it."
"Sookie," he shushes. "Relax please. No I don't think that. I was joking. It is absurd. The only reasonable response is to laugh at it."
I settled down a little, but I was still just so worked up over the whole thing I couldn't help continuing. "I do hate it sometimes," I whisper. "I know you're not a snob or anything, but some of what you deal with is just so beyond my sphere of comprehension. Sometimes I wish you were just...regular." I almost cringe as hear myself use the same expression Crystal had to describe him.
"What, like your brother, or this J.B. guy?"
"No Eric," I emphasize. "But just, your whole world is so different to mine. What you deal with and whom. The privileges and the politics of all that money. I know that you even feel that way at times..." I trail off. And what I don't say out loud, but am thinking is, 'I like you so, so much, but sometimes I can't help but wonder what on earth you're doing with me.'
He says nothing in response to that but he does hug me a little closer.
"I didn't really mean that, about you being regular," I say.
"I think you did," he replies.
"No. Not really. I like who you are. What you do and where you come from shapes that, and I know that. I don't wish you were different in any way, I need you to know that. I'm tired and I'm saying stupid things."
"Alright," he says.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Sookie, I'm going to go to sleep now," he tells me, summarily ending the conversation.
I sigh and let myself settle down, though I can't really fall asleep. I really hoped he understood that I hadn't been insulting him. I wished I hadn't said anything at all about Crystal and her ill thoughts. I felt him roll away from me after a time and his light snoring told me it has been an unconscious gesture. He smelled faintly of beer and smoke from the bar. Everything about tonight was just off. I found myself focusing again and again on Crystal's comments. She was wrong in her assumptions, but I wondered how many others looked at Eric and I as a couple, and saw it her way. I knew that she came from even less than Jason and I, knew that had marked her perception. I guess in some ways I'd had more time to ease into being on the periphery of that world, considering Amelia and some of the other girls from Kappa, and later, Bill. I didn't like to think I would ever have spoken on the subject with so little grace as she had. I was thinking that she was a pretty low class person, and then wondering if that made me a snob.
In that fit of restless consternation I finally fell to exhaustion, and when I woke I saw that it had persisted through the night. Eric wasn't with me. I heard him in the shower. I had the sheets all bunched up around me and I was on the far side of the bed. It was the first night I could recall that I had slept uneasily beside him. I usually found him such a comfort. I smelled breakfast and guessed that Crystal was up and had cooked or was cooking something. I knocked on the bathroom door and then went ahead and tentatively entered. He didn't respond so I went and stood outside the shower curtain and tentatively knocked on the wall.
"Hey," I offer.
"Hey," he says, pulling the curtain back a bit.
"I'm sorry if I ruined your night," I say.
He sighs. "You didn't. I don't really know what to say here. This is not something I've dealt with since I was in school. It's not something I wish to deal with again. I meant what I said though, when it comes to you. It's obvious that she doesn't know you any better than she knows me."
"Can I join you?" I ask. I just want to be near him.
"I'm almost done."
"Oh," I say, crestfallen. I turn to leave and he grabs my wrist quickly.
"Hey," he says seriously, meeting my eyes. "Look, we're okay, alright? I'm going over with Jason to take a look at the house this morning, so we'll be gone for an hour. Then we'll be back to help you pack. You can talk to Crystal. Set her straight, or just tell her to keep her opinions to herself, whatever you decide to do."
"Alright," I say despondently.
"What time is your surveyor coming?"
"Early, I think. He's gonna call when he's near so I can go over and meet him, but I won't need to stay over there."
"Good. Go get dressed," he orders.
I give him a weak smile before leaving him to finish his shower. I pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt and, steeling myself, I went out to the kitchen.
"'Morning," I say. Crystal's got the griddle over the stove cooking pancakes and my brother is seated at the table eating. They both greet me with a good morning and I pour myself a cup of coffee. I take a seat next to my brother and pull a piece of bacon off his plate, nibbling it carefully. I'm meant to wait to talk to her until after Jason and Eric have left, I'd deduced. They seem to have been up early together and conferred on this subject. Perhaps they were bonding too much.
Crystal finished flipping the last of the pancakes and set down a full plate of them and some bacon in the middle of the table. I told her thank you. I served myself and began to eat. Eric appeared in the doorway a short while later and asked rather abruptly if Jason was ready to go. My brother nodded and gulped down the last of his food in tacit agreement. Eric moved up beside me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before following Jason out the side door onto the porch and out to Jason's truck, leaving Crystal and I alone in the kitchen. She picked up Jason's plate and busied herself by washing it, then turning her attention to cleaning up the rest of the breakfast things. We spent about seven minutes in stony silence before I heard a car on the gravel. I assumed it was Jason and Eric come back again. Maybe they'd forgotten something vitally necessary for their urgent going-to-look-at-a-half-burned-house appointment.
Instead, it was Maryelizabeth Norris who came to the door. She came right in. Crystal dried her hands on a tea towel and picked up her purse from the counter.
"We need to go into Shreveport to see about some things for the wedding. I'll be back in the afternoon. I'll call Jason and let him know. Good luck with your packing," she says. And then they're gone. I sigh. That's a whole house full of people scheming for ways to part company with me this morning. I thought Maryelizabeth and I got on well with each other but I suppose it's still a far cry from the loyalty she feels for her own cousin. At least Jason and Eric will probably be back soon. I finished cleaning up after breakfast. I wasn't sure if Eric had eaten, so I left him a plate in the microwave. Crap. I didn't have a microwave. You never realize how many things don't just come with a house until you move. I started up a Master List of Things Sookie Must Buy Very Soon and tacked it to the refrigerator so that it would be up but out of the way. I went and got some boxes and started putting them together. I had constructing boxes down to a science at this point.
Once again I started in the kitchen. I packed away pairs of dishes and cutlery. Some of the things I packed were ones that I would ultimately return here. I took enough to tide me over until I could find replacements. I could get by without bookcases for a couple of months. Plates and forks? Not so much. Jason and Eric had not turned back up yet when my phone rang and Alcide Herveaux let me know that he'd just gotten off the highway and would be at the Loudermilk place in ten minutes. I left a hasty note for my brother and my boyfriend on the back door and headed over to meet him.
Alcide looked a bit more formal today than he had when we'd met previously. He had on a hunter green button down tucked into his dark jeans. The topmost buttons were undone and you could see the neck of his undershirt. Even though the sleeves were loose, as I watched him lean and bend to unload what seemed to me to be a very large amount of equipment from the back of his truck, the fabric cut against what I had accurately remembered as the impressive musculature in his upper arms. At least in the collared shirt, and especially once he slung his bright blue hardhat on, he seemed a lot less intimidating than he had done when I'd met him the first time. I followed him as he carried a step-ladder and a crowbar to the back of the house and just as he had said he would, he prised and shouldered his way in through the warped door.
We'd walked back to the front where he was retrieving some more of his equipment (there really wasn't any way for him to drive around to the back of the house without trailblazing through a lot of undergrowth and shrubbery) when Jason and Eric drove up. Jason hops down from his truck and greets Alcide with a friendly handshake and Eric came up beside me, slinging his arm around my hip.
"How was the house?" I ask him.
"Strange. I've never seen the results of a fire except in pictures. It still smells."
I nodded.
"It's a real shame," he says. "It's a pretty piece of land, down there by the lake."
"You're only sayin' that cause it's not mosquito season quite yet," I smile. It was definitely true. Come the high months of summer, even the many citronella torches my brother burned all around the deck served only marginally well at keeping the bugs at bay. I knew he'd picked up a couple of these electronic mosquito repellents to try out this year. They emit some sort of high frequency humans can't hear that's supposed to make the bugs less inclined to come by. Personally, I always thought he'd do better just by putting up a bat box. The flying furries would have a feast at their doorstep if they ever moved into Jason's backyard.
"So what's going on here?" he asks, looking up at the house.
"Well, he just shouldered in the door in the back. I was just getting ready to leave, so I'll take a ride with you two if you don't mind. I'll stop back by later."
"Did you talk to Crystal? She called Jason."
"No. She skedaddled about as fast as you two did."
"Maybe we'll drive out to pick up dinner later," he suggests, handy as always with a backup plan.
"Did you get breakfast?" I ask. He shakes his head. "I saved you some back at the house."
"Thanks," he says, giving me a little squeeze.
We walk over to join Jason and Alcide then, and I'm pleased to notice the way that Eric always seems to keep his hands on me. I'd woken up this morning feeling really unsure of myself, almost worrying that I'd blown it with him with my impromptu confession last night about feeling at odds in his world. I felt relieved that he wasn't upset with me. His disapprobation seemed focused on Crystal, even as he wanted me to bury the hatchet with her. I let myself lean into him reflecting that he was really racking up the terrific boyfriend points this weekend.
We left Alcide to get to work and I told him I'd bring him up some lunch and check back on him in a couple of hours, bidding him to call me if there were any problems or concerns. Eric lifted me up into Jason's truck and I rode between them on the short drive back to my house. They set about loading the few remaining items I'd already packed into the truck, and more properly securing the things we'd already loaded therein for the drive back to Nola. I got back to work in the kitchen, pausing briefly to get some pasta and a bit more chicken to boil, and some frozen vegetables out, so I could make up a big salad for all of us for lunch. I went a little overboard and cooked two pounds of pasta. After watching Jason and Eric shovel it away last night, I estimated Alcide to be a man of similar appetite. Hopefully there'd be some leftovers in case Crystal got back early. She'd cooked breakfast after all, so it was only polite to consider her despite the tension between us.
We worked through the morning and I ended up calling Alcide to come over by us for lunch. We four chatted amicably about his discovery thus far, the main point being that structurally, the old house seemed sound. It would still need a heck of a lot of work to make it habitable, mind you. There were issues with mould in the back wall where the door had warped and the house's basement, about half a story high and largely above ground, was "teeming with creepy crawlies" according to Alcide. I shuddered. Being what you'd probably call a country girl, I was rarely one to be unsettled by bugs or other vermin. I figured it had to be pretty bad to get a man as big and tough looking as Alcide to pull a face like he did when he said it. Visions of slime mould, snakes, giant nightcrawlers, baby alligators, rats, and nutria all danced through my head in a chittering, slithering, gnawing cacophony. He'd probably just meant spiders and bugs, and likely the mould, but I've got a very active imagination sometimes.
I had been right to make a lot of food. We were left with enough for Crystal to eat, if she hadn't, or possibly for Jason or her to take a lunch to work on Monday, and that was all. Jason followed Alcide back to help him lay down some big boards of plywood that he wanted to get over the front porch, so he could traverse it without carrying on like a tightrope walker. He said he'd been able to just walk through and unlock the front door and pull it open. Eric spent most of the afternoon watching me pack boxes and then carrying them to the truck, with a lot of lounging around in between. Most of the time he didn't know what to pack, and I was pretty much deciding as I went so I couldn't really instruct him. When Jason turned up again, Eric was able to help him shift some of their stuff around.
I stopped what I was doing long enough to thrust cleaning supplies into my brother's hands so he could work on getting the residual smoke smell off some of his and Crystal's things. There was a funny little moment as he and Eric exchanged seemingly baffled looks at such mysterious artefacts as spray polish and dust cloths. Eric might have an excuse, but Crystal had obviously been spoiling my brother if he'd forgotten how to clean for himself already. That thought made me scowl as I grappled with the fact that I was still very offended by her, in contrast with the evidence that she clearly took good care of Jason.
In a fit of goodwill, and a heroic act of housework avoidance, my brother, who had found my list on the fridge, declared that he was going to buy me a microwave as a housewarming present. Eric quickly resolved to accompany him. After all, unlike Jason, he had seen my kitchen, and would be able to offer solid advisement on suitable size and colour choice. I laughed at their sheer transparency but sent them on their way. As a rule, I could run mental rings around my brother in the normal course. Supplemented by Eric, however, they became a formidable duo. I couldn't be upset in the slightest. I loved it.
They took what seemed to me to be a long time, and I figured they'd driven into Shreveport or Monroe for a bigger selection instead of going somewhere close by. It was still plenty light out, but it was early evening when Alcide called me over to let me know that he was done and packing up. I left another note for Jas and Eric and then walked over to hear what he had to say, and to pay him. He was thundering down the little plywood ramp that he and Jason had erected across the front steps as I came up on the driveway out of the brush leading down to the cemetery. Maybe I could get Jason to bring his ride on mower up here to try to tackle it some time.
Alcide beckoned me over and tentatively I followed him inside. I gasped musty air as I did. The paint was pealing, and there was some obvious water damage showing on some of the upper walls, but the grand entry was exactly that, grand. Just inside the door the foyer was two stories high and curved staircase rose up to the second floor landing, its carved banister dusty and cobwebby, but still beautiful. To my right was a sprawling great room leading back to the dining room and beyond there, the kitchen. To my left was a small front parlour leading back to another parlour room, maybe it had been an office, or even a library. There were plank shelved bookcases built into the walls. As we walked through, Alcide was pointing out the many things that needed urgent attention, and the very many more things that he called secondary.
"Should I be taking notes?" I'd asked, before we were through the first room.
"Ah, no. I have all my notes in my laptop. If you give me your address I'll email it over before I leave. You have decent coverage out here," he comments, sounding surprised at the afterthought. "I didn't think my card would pick up the internet, but it's been going all day."
"Yeah," I agree. "It's what I use when I'm up here."
"You're packing up to move today, Jason said?" he asks. I guess he could have mistaken the moving truck in my driveway as being there for Jason and Crystal's use.
"Yup, just got my place down in New Orleans this week. It's perfect. Well, it's perfect for me, at least!"
"That's great. I get down there once in a while. Not as often as I'd like," he says. He'd mentioned this before.
"If you'd welcome it, I'll pass along your name to a friend of mine who's in development down there. She said she's looking for a good surveyor. Maybe get you into town a bit more," I tell him, thinking of Amelia's request.
"Yeah? Sure, pass it on."
"You gotta promise not to talk to her like a woman though, she hates that."
He cocks an eyebrow at me, requesting information. "Don't talk down to her," I clarify. "She knows her stuff. You can continue talking down to me though, I have no idea about any of it," I grin.
He chuckles at that. We'd done the full circuit of the downstairs and were back in the front. He gestures me toward the stairs and I give him a wary look.
"It's safe?" I question. He takes a few quick strides ahead of me and paces up the first few steps, deliberately stomping to authenticate their sturdiness. I followed after him. There were four bedrooms upstairs and two baths. Technically I suppose there were two bedrooms and a bath, and the master suite with a nursery attached. He explained that it would be the work of a day to seal up the one wall connecting the nursery to the master bedroom if we wanted. He said it might make the house more saleable. I shook my head distractedly though. That would be way down on the list, if added at all. Finally he showed me the narrow staircase in what I'd thought had been a closet door leading up to the attic. We didn't go up there. At his mention of the word 'guano' it reaffirmed for me that an exterminator would need to be a very high priority.
I turned away, a little too quickly, and my toe caught some dust and I slipped. I spared myself a full on faceplant only by lurching and I ended up coming down hard on my knee. "Damn," I huffed, then groaned as I stood up. Jeez Louise that hurt. I leaned back against the wall, bending to cup my hand over my sore kneecap, but Alcide leaned forward and pulled me away and I realized that my butt and my back were now dusted with crumbling paint. I sighed and he chuckled. He guided me back down the stairs.
"Oh, and I found these," he says, remembering, and fishes into his pocket to produce a set of two old keys, a little discoloured. "They were just sitting on the kitchen counter, real secure-like," he smirks.
"Considering you broke in here with your shoulder I don't think it's much of a security breach," I grin, though my voice still has the edge of my pain in it. My knee was throbbing. He'd already boarded up the back door, so I let him walk out and used the keys he'd found to lock the front. The lock turned unexpectedly smoothly and he told me he'd shot it with some WD-40. I smiled at that. There was something about that substance that reminded me of my dad. Surreptitiously, I breathed in the smell now clinging to the keys. Yes. Dad's old shed. Fixing the lawnmower. On the chain of my old bike. I turned and took a step from the door and the plywood flooring that Alcide had laid down wobbled under my feet. I winced as I felt spasm in my knee and my only thought was that I was the klutziest person on the planet today as I felt myself trip forward, ready for another nosedive, this time off the height of the porch.
I didn't fall. When I threw my hands out, they met the hard, warm body of Alcide as he caught me and held me as I steadied myself. My breathing hitched and for a moment I was unsure if it was my rattled nerves or my sheer proximity to this man. I don't know if he took it as a sign or something, but he started rubbing my back as if to calm me, staying incredibly close when he really ought to have stepped away. Naturally, this was the exact moment that Eric arrived. I heard and then saw him come up from what must be quickly becoming the beaten path over here from Gran's property. I saw as his face shifted from impassive to confused to angry as he came upon me, seemingly in the embrace of another man. Another man, who, evidenced by the fact that he failed to hear Eric's approach, was clearly making a bit more of this little moment than there was to be made.
"Sookie?" Eric questioned, loudly. Accusingly.
Alcide's top-side brain seemed to click back on and he quickly pushed me from him, causing me to stumble back and I nearly went down again, but this time I caught myself.
"Hey man," Alcide offers to Eric. He does not manage to affect the nonchalance he was going for. "She tripped."
Eric said nothing as he crossed toward us, his eyes were roving over me as if searching for evidence of my alleged fall. Alcide backed down the little ramp, stepping out of the way of Eric who scaled it in two strides and was in front of me in another one. I felt myself flush with worry and embarrassment and I prayed that Eric wouldn't mistake that for guilt. He turned back toward Alcide, and was staring him down. Behind him, I lifted my hand to his back and let it fall on the waist of his jeans. I tucked my thumb into one of his belt loops and gave the tiniest tug backwards. Don't be rash. Stay right here.
"Uh, Sookie, I'll email you the findings list tonight then," he calls up.
"Thank you. Please send us your bill," Eric answers in his firm, cool voice.
Alcide stumbled over a hasty goodbye then and got in his truck, backed it up and drove away. Eric watched him until he was out of sight then turned around to face me.
"Sookie what the fuck did I just walk into?" he asks coldly.
"I did trip," I say quickly. "I fell, in the house, and banged my knee. And then I wobbled on the board here and was going to go down again and he caught me." I bent down, trying to hastily wrench my jeans leg up over my calf so I could show him my knee which had to be at least red, if not already bruising.
"That's not what it looked like," he says sceptically.
"That's what it was!" I assert, popping back up to look him dead in the eyes. "I don't know why he didn't step away after he caught me. My mind was wandering, I was thinking of keys and bicycle chains and I didn't think of him," I babble with a touch of hysteria.
"Can you walk?" he asks. I nod. Without another word he takes my hand and leads me back to Gran's house. Dragged might have been a better word. I had to move too quickly to keep up with him and when we got there I was practically hobbling. Crystal's car was back but Jason's truck was missing. I followed Eric inside and while he started to walk back to the bedroom, I needed a chair, immediately. I was finally able to get my pants leg up over my knee and I saw that yes, it was bruising up and now swollen. I had a very small cut where I guess the skin had split, that had already sealed itself with a small layer of dark, coagulating blood. Eric was back in the kitchen doorway now, looking down at me.
"You did fall," he observes.
"Yes Eric, did you think I was making that up?" I ask. He doesn't answer. He doesn't have to, because the fact that he said it at all means that he did think that. I get up and grab a towel off the front handle of the stove and open the freezer and fill it with a handful of ice cubes. I grab two aspirin out of the cabinet and gulp them down with half a glass of water and then move past him back to the bedroom. I pull off my jeans and take another towel out of the bathroom, unconcerned with the fact that it was still damp from his shower. It's about to be damp from the ice anyway. I put the towel with the ice on my knee, and wrap the second towel around it to keep it in place and lie down on the bed, covering my head with a pillow.
I heard him come in and I felt him sit down on the bed as well. "Jason and Crystal went to get pizzas for dinner. They should be back soon."
"Not hungry," I answer.
"Jason told me that guy has been asking about you," he says.
"So?" I ask. I lift the pillow off my head and look at him.
"He likes you."
"Again, so?" I repeat.
"That guy we met at the bar last night likes you too," he offers, after a moment.
"Eric," I begin, unsure as I start how I'm going to finish. "Maybe that did look bad, the second you saw, but it was really and truly nothing."
"I know," he acknowledges.
"Then what?" I ask.
"I am sorry. I overreacted."
"No," I frown at him. "That's not what you should be sorry for."
He doesn't answer for long enough that I'm inclined to sigh and turn away from him. This is being a really unpleasant weekend for me. I sat there stewing in silence for a couple of minutes while he sat there on the other side of the bed doing the same darned thing, I'm sure. When I feel him move toward me on the bed I force myself not to turn to him immediately. Because I am annoyed.
"Sookie," he says. Still not looking. "Sookie," he repeats, this time brushing my chin very gently toward him.
"What, Eric?" I ask.
"I am sorry for making you think I doubted your word." I frown, and he immediately amends, "I am sorry for doubting your word. It is not you I do not trust, but other people. I do trust you, and I will remember that."
"Thank you," I say, deflating.
"How is your knee?" he asks.
"Hurts," I answer. More silence.
"So what is the verdict?" he asks.
"What?"
"About the house," he clarifies.
"Well," I say. "I guess it's not as bad as it looks on the outside. Not all the way through, anyway. Some parts are bad." I start to tell him all about what Alcide had shown me, taking deliberate care to not actually reference Alcide directly at any point. After I finished, I told him my idea for the property. I'd been ruminating on it for the last few days but I hadn't wanted to give it more thought until I'd seen the surveyor, and knew the state of the house. He thought about it, and asked some questions, and ultimately, he agreed that it was a sound plan.
Jason and Crystal had returned while we were talking. Eric asked if I wanted to come out for dinner but I really hadn't. I was basically done with my packing. I was sore and tired. He went out and made my excuses and brought back some food and a fresh (proper) ice pack for my knee. We spent what was technically my last night living at Gran's eating pizza in bed and watching two of Jason's action movies on my laptop. I went to sleep curled up next to Eric and feeling a bit ambivalent about how I'd be leaving here. I knew I did need to talk to Crystal before I left. That had to be resolved.
My opportunity came in the morning. I was up before Eric and I let him sleep. My knee was feeling a lot better, if a little stiff. It had been stumbling back across the cemetery at a breakneck pace yesterday that had really done me in, I knew. And I knew Eric knew it too, so I didn't have to really say anything. I figured that's why he'd taken special care of me last night. I showered and went out to the kitchen to put the coffee on before drying my hair. Crystal found me there, waiting for it to finish brewing.
"Good morning," she says.
"Good morning," I answer. "Jason still sleeping?"
"Yeah. It's his day for it, most of the time," she agrees.
After a pause, we both start in at the same moment with, "Listen, I..."
I smirked half-heartedly and told her to go ahead.
"I'm wondering if you want to come to church service with me," she says.
I nod. "Yeah, I'd like that," I tell her. "When do you want to leave?"
"Twenty minutes?" she suggests. I nod.
I poured coffee for her and myself and we stood drinking it for a few minutes before she asks me, "What were you going to say before?"
"It can keep 'til after church," I tell her. I set my cup down and went and got ready. I woke up Eric just enough to tell him that I was going and would be back within a couple of hours. We wouldn't be staying around for cake and tea afterwards, as Eric and I really would need to get going by then if we hoped to have everything unpacked tonight. So I threw on a sundress and some sandals and some light makeup and rode with Crystal to our church.
The sermon was about Do-It-Yourself home improvement shows on television. Not really, of course. The minister used the idea of watching people makeover old spaces in their homes as a metaphor for what we, as Christians, should do in our lives. When we notice an aspect of ourselves that is going unused, we should make a change, spruce ourselves up. Repurpose, refocus. One of the examples he had used was our compassion. We might recognize it's there, knowing we're compassionate people (in the same way we know we have a spare bedroom) but God would want us to put it to use. We need to make a change in our lives, like trying to help a friend, or starting charity work. He rounded out his simile by stating that our houses were like our hearts, and we should always open the doors to our neighbours and to God.
This happens to me often when I come to church, and it's one of the big reasons that I like to come at all, since I know very well that you can be a spiritual person without showing up in a pew on Sunday. It seemed like the minister spoke directly to me. Everything from starting in talking about houses and remaking things, focusing on the positives of what you have in your life, really resonated with me that morning. I know of course that sermons are like this by design; broad, and inviting personal interpretation. I knew that early summer was a time a lot of people worked on their homes, so naturally it wasn't just me to whom the subject matter would seem apropos. Still, I felt very close to God that morning. When we left the sanctuary I shook hands with the minister and thanked him with particular sincerity.
Crystal and I drove back to the house but once we got there, neither of us moved to get out of the car. It was time for our talk.
"Sookie, I'm sorry for what I said to you," she began. "I really don't think those things, that you're only with Eric for his money. He seems like a real great guy."
"Thank you, I think so too," I tell her. "And I accept your apology."
"It's been a hard week. Jason, the house, and finding out it can't be mended. You letting us stay here is so much to us, and I... I guess I'm embarrassed that my family isn't able to do the same for us. Could never. We would be on Mary's pull out sofa if it wasn't for you. I've been thinking about that and thinkin' about that, and getting' real... resentful. I'm sorry. And then you and your boyfriend came out, and my ugly thoughts just bubbled to the surface before I could clamp a hand over my mouth."
"Crystal, as far as I'm concerned you are family to me. You're marrying my brother in a month. You're gonna be the momma to my niece or my nephew. I'm happy to have you here. Grateful even, that I have the space to share. You know that for my brother and me, a lot of what we've got has come from tragedy. It makes me feel good to use it for a good purpose."
She has started crying a little bit, so I pass her a tissue out of the little pack she has tucked into her car's centre console. I see Eric appear on the porch for a moment and give him a little wave so he knows we're okay out here, and he gives me a nod and goes back inside.
"Crystal, I need to talk to you about something," I say.
"What is it?" she sniffs, subsiding.
I take a deep breath. "I want you and Jason to take over the Loudermilk place."
She looks up at me with a bit of panic, so I put a hand up. "If you want to. But it seems like the perfect solution to all our problems. Jason loves to work on his house, and that is a house that will keep him busy for a long, long time. You two have the money coming in from the insurance, and that'll make a huge dent in the work that needs to be done to get it up and running, if not cover it outright. I don't want the place. I could never live in it or use it for myself. But you and Jason could make a home there, if you wanted."
"What does Jason say?" she asks, subdued.
"I didn't talk to him about it yet. I wanted to talk to you first."
She takes that in. "Do I have to let you know today?"
I shake my head at her. "No. You don't have to let me know any time in particular. I know it's a lot to think of taking on, with the wedding and the baby coming. It can wait a couple months. Like I told Jason, so long as you don't mind me coming up to visit now and again, you're more than welcome to stay at Gran's as long as you like."
"Then I'll... think about it."
"Alright."
We sat for a little while longer as she finished composing herself and then we went inside. Once there, I headed back to the bedroom, but she caught my arm.
"Do you mind if I talk to Eric for a minute?" she asks me.
"Go ahead," I say, though not without some trepidation.
I notice the men, or at least one of the men, went out to forage for breakfast this morning. I helped myself to a powdered doughnut from the dozen-sized box. There were only five left, so they've obviously eaten well in our absence. Eric comes out and joins me a few minutes later, and I hear Crystal close the door to the other bedroom.
"I guess your talk went okay?" he asks.
I nod, "Yes. What did Crystal want to say to you?"
"She apologized for her remarks to you, and for making me feel uncomfortable here."
It was a degree of consideration I really hadn't expected, but duly appreciated. I am sure I looked surprised as he said it. "Do you forgive her?" I ask.
"Yeah." He looks down at me then and smirks, brushing some powdered sugar off my face. "We need to hit the road, Miss Stackhouse."
"Let's go then," I say, and lean up to give him a long kiss.