Adele Stackhouse left a message for me the next morning thanking me for my interest in her granddaughter. (My answering service was instructed to answer that particular number with "Good morning, Northman Psychological. How may I help you?"). I returned her call after I rose and arranged to start Sookie's treatment Tuesday evening. She was such a gracious lady! She invited me to eat with them before starting my session. I begged off, citing a busy schedule. I could tell she was looking for a way to repay me for my pro bono work with Sookie. My estimation of Mrs. Adele Stackhouse just kept rising.
Mrs. Dawson, a local Were, agreed to tutor Sookie privately each morning while her children were in school. She was an imposing looking woman , nearly 6 foot tall with broad shoulders . (She worked as a body guard in the Were community from time to time.) Mrs. Dawson also taught second grade before she had children, was very kind, and discrete. She would teach Sookie all of her school subjects, I would work on her telepathy. There were other vamps in Louisiana more experienced with talent development – Bill Compton came to mind- but that would mean involving the Queen and I really wanted to keep Sookie all to myself. I promised myself I would give Sookie and I six months. If we didn't have any success, then I would look for outside help.
Upon rising Tuesday, I stood staring into my closet. What does a successful child psychologist in Northern Louisiana wear? Adele Stackhouse probably didn't really believe I was a psychologist, but I would at least try to look the part for tonight. I chose a light blue button down and gray dress pants and loafers. Pipe? No. I put a pair of wire framed glasses in my pocket. I pulled my hair back in a simple pony tail and headed for the garage.
Once again I frowned at my car. What I really wanted was a red corvette. Each year when a new model came out, I went to the dealer and test drove one. Then I drove home in my sensible, black Buick. Blending in, not drawing attention, was an important vampire skill and nothing says "look at me" like a red corvette, and yet…. My sedan does have a corvette motor, painted red. I told my mechanic that my wife wouldn't let me have a corvette and what she didn't know about my engine wasn't going to hurt her. We had a good "just us guys together" laugh about that. If a wife was my only problem, I would have a red corvette, a Harley… Charming women is one of the things that I do best. Tonight I needed to charm Mrs. Adele Stackhouse.
When I arrived at the farm house, Adele was sitting in the porch swing. She rose as I walked up the steps.
"Mr. Northman," she said nodding.
"Mrs. Stackhouse, what a pleasure to meet you." I had a briefcase in one hand and a few papers in the other, so no hand shaking.
"Sookie is finishing up her dinner. Would you like a piece of apple pie?"
"May I take a slice to go when I leave?"
"Certainly, Mr. Northman," Adele answered smiling sweetly. Southern women always try to feed you. Refusing graciously is the only way to handle them.
"Please call me Eric."
"Eric, then. Please call me Adele. Will you join me on the swing for a few minutes?" she asked. How could I refuse?
"What are your plans for Sookie?"
"This – I gave her a paper from my hand- is a letter to Sookie's school with my diagnosis of social anxiety and my recommendation that she be allowed to receive homebound instruction. I have made arrangements with Bernice Dawson to come weekday mornings to help Sookie with her lessons. I will work with her three nights a week. One of my long term goals is to get Sookie to a point where she will be comfortable returning to school."
"I know Bernice Dawson well. She was one of the best female athletes Bon Temps High School has ever had. Some thought she was headed to the Olympics, but Charles Dawson caught her eye and before you knew it she had three little boys. Bernice will be good for Sookie. But we both know that wasn't really what I was asking. What are your intentions for my Sookie?"
I knew she didn't really believe I was a psychologist. "I want to help Sookie learn to manage her gift. To lead a "normal" life, she needs to learn to shut out people's thoughts so she isn't constantly overwhelmed. "
"Do you really think that is possible?" Adele hardly dared to hope.
"I do."
She looked me right in the eye. "And then?"
"When she grows up, I hope she will come to work for me."
"What sort of work, Mr. Northman?" Yes, I noticed I was no longer Eric.
"I own several businesses in Shreveport. A telepath (there, I said it aloud) would be very useful screening potential employees, assessing productivity ,and so forth."
"Hmm. I guess we have some time before Sookie has to worry about "and so forth". You are offering your services and paying for Bernice's in the hope that at some point in the future Sookie will go to work for you?"
"Yes."
She eyed me warily. Adele had met up with a supe or two before.
"And if she can never control her gift well enough ?"
"Then at least she isn't locked away in LMHS being driven mad by all the other inmates' thoughts."
"We can certainly agree on that Eric, we can certainly agree on that." She would have patted my hand if I hadn't managed to keep it out of reach.
We rocked for a few minutes on the swing in silence.
"Gran, can I come out now?"Sookie asked, pressing her nose to the screen door.
"In a minute, child. Did you stack up the dishes like I asked you to?" Adele responded with a smile.
We heard Sookie run back to the kitchen.
"She has been so excited about your visit, Eric. She could hardly contain herself all day."
"I wondered if she would tell you we had met," I said cautiously.
"She told me all sorts of things," Adele responded looking at me meaningfully.
"And yet you are sitting next to me on the porch swing?"
"I didn't invite you in right away." I was really going to have to work to stay ahead of Adele Stackhouse. "I've met you now, and I can tell you care about my Sookie. Shall we go in and get started?"
I stood and held out my hand to help her up. No need to worry about cold hands now.
"I can see why blue is your favorite color," she remarked looking from my shirt to my eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. 1000 years of carefully guarded secrets divulged by one small girl. Great.