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Homeless

Chapter Two

When we stepped into Merlotte's together, I was feeling foolishly excited. For what, I hadn't the slightest idea. But I just did.

"You make yourself comfortable," I told him helpfully. "You can sit anywhere you like. What can I get you to drink, by the way?"

"A beer. A beer would be just fine, thank you. I'm not picky."

"A beer it is!" I felt so embarrassed by the way I was acting in front of him. He probably thought I was so strange. To save myself from further embarrassment, I nodded and hastily crossed the counter to get his beer for him. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him sliding up onto a stool across from me.

When I yanked open the refrigerator, I saw Arlene come over to me. Then again, you could spot Arlene from very nearly a mile off, with that fiery red hair of hers.

"Uh-uh, Sook," Arlene said, wriggling a finger at me. "I cannot believe you just did that!"

"Did what, Arlene?" I was way happier than I ought to have been, in succeeding in coaxing the guy into coming into my work-place for a drink. I felt like I had won a strange victory in doing so.

"Let that guy in here," she whispered to me, underneath her breath, so he couldn't happen to overhear. "I've seen him sitting outside. How do we know he ain't an axe-murderer or something like that?"

I laughed. It was so typical of Arlene; She was always assuming the worst of people.

"Come off it, Arlene," I scolded. "Be realistic here. He's just a poor guy, with not as much fortune as the rest of us! It's about time someone treated him with due kindness!"

"What if he has a gun in that bag?"

I darted her a reproving look, while I uncapped his beer. She was so ridiculous.

"Look, all I'm saying, Sook, is that I have children at home waiting on me. I can't die so early, especially not when they need me!"

"Arlene," I sighed. "I was talking to him outside. He seems real... nice and sweet." It wasn't every day that a man was.

"Just be careful around him," she told me firmly, eyeballing him cautiously. "There's something... different about him, I swear it."

"And if I wind up missing, then we'll find out for sure," I joked, but Arlene was far too serious to see it that way.

"Just be careful. You never know with those types."

"Oh, Arlene. You've really got to stop being so invested in those crime shows you like to watch. No wonder you're so paranoid." Playfully, she flipped me the bird from where she was standing, and I just shook my head, and laughed. I snatched a slice of lemon and placed it on the nozzle of his beer. My own little added personal touch. I moved closer to the end of the bar where he was seated, and plopped his beer down next to him.

He reached down and grabbed his bag, yanking down the zipper. I instantly knew then what he was doing.

"Oh, no," I exclaimed, when he slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. "It's on the house, remember," I reminded him.

Still, he insisted. "I've got this," he said seriously. "And keep the change, while you're at it."

I stared at him disbelieving. Why on earth would he tell me to keep the change? The beer was only five dollars. That meant he was giving me fifteen extra. Surely, he couldn't afford to be so generous on tips.

"Fine then," I agreed reluctantly. Boy, he was a hard customer. "But I'm giving your fifteen dollars back! The beers only five!"

"I've got more than enough money, Sookie," he said confidently, repeating his words of before. I couldn't say I believed him. "Consider it a tip from me to you for your hospitality."

And then he lifted his beer off the counter, and toasted to me. I felt the entirety of my face redden, because he looked very good while doing it. A bit like one of those spunky men you see in a television commercial. Good God. I tossed my head to clear that pathway of thought.

And then something odd happened; He stared down at his beer, like he was conflicted on what to do with it. He wasn't sure whether to drink it, or whether to stare at it and treat it like it was a painting.

"Uh, Sookie. I'm sorry, but I..." The words were nervous and embarrassed falling from his tongue. Now why did I find that so cute? "What is this?" He pointed to the lemon, unsure.

I almost ached with sadness for him. Didn't he know what a lemon was?

"It's a lemon, Eric."

"No, I... I know what it is exactly." I had made him frustrated in saying that. His voice went deeper and irritated. I prayed to the heavens then that I hadn't offended him. "Would you mind... uh, getting it off for me? I... I can't..."

I couldn't seem to understand why he was reacting so distressed the way he was. Over a silly, insignificant little lemon.

Maybe I had stared for too long, because he plucked it off with his fingers and tossed it down onto the counter like it was a hot potato. It was then I saw it; I couldn't tell whether my mind was playing deceiving tricks on me or not, but I swear a few grey curls of smoke wafted from his fingertips. I was most likely imagining it, though.

I was probably gaping.

"There are certain things that I don't like," he explained underneath his breath quickly. "And lemons are one of those things."

"Sure." I shrugged. "I understand. We all have things we don't... like." Did we ever.

I tried to forget all about it, and went ahead with working. I would have prefered to stand around and talk to him, but my boss wouldn't be very pleased in me doing that. Plus, the bar was astounding busier than usual this morning, so I left him to it with a grin.

It was my ex-boyfriend, Bill, who came in just as the morning passed by.

He was the very last person I had expected to see; He had lines raking down his eyes, and he looked almost jet-lagged and exhausted.

Bill and I broke up roughly over three or four months ago. He was the dumpee, I was the dumper. He had gotten himself a job over two hundred miles from Bon Temps at a lawyer firm, and we had a go at keeping it long-distance. While I loved him very much- he was my first boyfriend, first committed relationship, basically my first everything- I just felt it too hard maintaining a relationship while he was halfway across Louisiana, and I was stuck in a small town. I needed a man I could kiss and spend time with, after a long and trying day at work. It was difficult when Bill was miles away from me, and I couldn't even have such a simple thing as that. He went AWOL on my ass, and never responded to my text-messages, other than a simple hello. He would disregard all the other simple and pleasant questions I had for him, so I believed it better if we broke up and moved on with our lives. It's funny how when you end a relationship, the other person magically starts wanting to become involved in your life again. Now, the texts I got from Bill were constant and incessant.

"Why did you break up with me, Sookie?"

"I am thinking about you a lot today."

"Have you found another man?"

I just couldn't understand how breaking up with him seemed the motivator he needed to truly include himself in my life. It made things very hard, and confused me half the time; When he was being that way, acting as if he really cared for me, it always had me reconsidering the reason why I broke up with him in the first place. When I arrived home alone from work to a cold and empty house, it sunk in all over again. You always hear people say long-distance relationships never work out in the long-run. I suppose they were true on that.

Bill was very charming and older, when we first met. He paid a lot of personal attention to me. There weren't too many men who had. I suppose, that was mainly why I fell for Bill so deeply. I felt so flattered and shocked that a man would ever find something in me that was fit for a very serious romantic relationship. When he entered the bar, I felt my knees weaken, and my resolve in dumping him crumble. He was wearing his work clothes, as a defense lawyer; His charcoal grey suit, his black thick hair combed back and neat, and he had his suitcase in his hand. Just by the way his dark eyes scanned the entire room, and then fell onto me where they lingered, I knew it was me he had come for today.

It took everything in me not to race up to meet him, and throw my arms around his neck. Instead, I turned and went about my work. I took a local group of customers orders, and then I felt someone grab my elbow from behind. I knew it was Bill. And, I also knew he was here to attempt to sweet-talk me into letting him stay at my house for the week, until he had to get back into Shreveport, to defend at more trials. Maybe that was his intention, though; To suck me in all over again?

Without warning, he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I hadn't known such a simple and brief action could open up a whole lee-way of painful emotion.

"Bill," I warned frostily, when I pulled back. His hand tightened over my elbow a fraction; Long fingers crushing.

"I have no more clients for the weekend, until Tuesday next week," he said, in his low voice. "I thought I would come here, and see how you're doing. I thought perhaps we could spend the weekend together, until I have to return."

I pursed my lips. I knew what that truly meant; Bill thought he would return into his hometown to try to see if he could get into his ex-girlfriend's panties as easily as before. A weekend of indulgent screwing- not only in bed, but with his ex's heart.

"Bill, I can't," I whispered, looking anywhere but at him. It hurt too much. "You can't just come back here whenever you feel like it, thinking I'm gonna open my legs for you every single time!"

"I did not come here for sex, Sookie," he said dryly. "How on earth could you possibly think that of me? I came here to see the girl I loved, and still love. I wanted to know how she is. Is that such a crime, my darling?"

Bill used to always call me that. 'My darling.' It used to make me feel so touchy-feely around him. Now, not so much. I guess absence makes the heart grow colder by the day.

"William, you can't be calling in to see me whenever you feel like it." I looked at him, for the first time. I truly wished I hadn't. He was looking at me with the expression he used to, all the time; With soft and tender zeal. "I thought I made it very clear on you, when I called you. I can't be in a relationship with you, not when you're miles away from me. There were times when I really needed to talk to you, but you weren't there. You wouldn't even answer my calls!"

"That's because I was most likely in court," he said, his voice matching mine in its loud strength. "You cannot blame a man for being busy at work, Sookie. And besides, I have an easy solution for all that. I came here today, asking if you would like to perhaps move to Shreveport and live in my apartment with me. It is how much I love you. I want to make it work between us."

I was surprised by that. I also might have found it a bit preposterous. I had a job I enjoyed in Bon Temps, after all. Plus, I also had a family here in Bon Temps. I had my Granny, and my brother, Jason. I couldn't just get up and go. I cared about my family too much; I didn't think it was right, leaving my family behind for a man. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"Bill, my family is here."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Sookie, you are twenty-five years old. I think you're old enough to start living without them. It's not going to kill you."

The fact I was not so willing to give up my life here in Bon Temps made things very clear on me; Maybe I wasn't the right sort for relationships. Sacrificing my job, and my family here to live with Bill, it was just something I didn't feel comfortable with.

"I appreciate the offer, I do," I told him earnestly. I smiled tentatively to show it. "But I cannot leave my Grandmother behind. If I do, it'll be her I'm missing, instead of you. I can't do that. I'm sorry."

His hand slackened around my elbow, once the finality of what I was saying finally sunk in for him. But then he went, grabbing me by the hand, and pulling me back. Our conversation was not over yet.

"Sookie, do you really want it to end between us? I still love you."

"Listen, Bill. I know it mightn't seem like a big deal to you- what you're asking of me. But it is, to me. I literally live for my Grandmother."

"And this is what you've decided?" His voice was quiet; hesitant. "You will not be coming to Shreveport to live with me in my apartment?"

How much more did he want me to spell it out for him? "No, Bill. I-I'm sorry. But I just... I can't. I appreciate the offer, though. Believe me, I do."

I couldn't help but notice Eric, who was up at the bar; his beer on the counter, untouched. He was staring between the two of us, his body halfway shifted in my direction on the stool, like he was prepared and ready to come intervene and end our dispute, if need be. It was awfully caring of him, but unneeded. Surely, I could handle my persistance ex-boyfriend myself. And besides, I knew and trusted Bill wouldn't ever truly hurt me. He was just frustrated, and desperate.

"Sookie, please."

"Bill, my decision is final," I spoke through my teeth. "I won't be moving to Shreveport with you, all right?" My voice quivered and broke, and I hated it. "Please don't try to push me into it!"

At some point during our conversation, Bill had released his grasp on his suitcase. I yanked my arm free, and before I knew it, I was stumbling over it with my sneakers. I couldn't understand what was with me today. Usually, I wasn't ever so... clumsy. But today, it seemed my feet weren't working right.

Faster than I could even realize he had slidden off his stool, Homeless Eric was steadying me with two firm hands coming around my shoulders. "Jesus H. Christ! You are a slippery one, aren't you?" And then he chuckled deeply. It was quite a nice sound. It seemed to ease the tension I felt building up inside of me over my argument with Bill wonderfully.

Smiling thankfully, I turned back to look at Bill. I knew then, with that suspicious look on his face, what he was thinking; He was thinking something was going on with Homeless Eric and I. There wasn't, of course; Until a few hours ago, we hadn't even so much as spoke to one another. I could tell Bill couldn't see that, though, and he voiced his concern next.

"Just who are you?" He was struggling to keep his voice composed, I could tell.

I stole a look up at Eric. They were evaluating each other, sizing each other up. I almost laughed furiously. What was with men always seeing another as some type of competition? I suppose all that nonsense dated all the way back into the cave-man days.

Eric took his hands off my shoulders, and extended one out to Bill. "The name is Eric."

Bill scrutinized his hand coldly, before reaching out to shake it. Well, it was more of an actual fierce hand squeeze, than anything. "William Compton. I am Sookie's boyfriend."

I made a noise of outrage. "Ex-boyfriend, Bill." I darted him a cautionary look. "Which you seem quick to forget," I added stiffly.

"Well, on that note, I must be leaving." Bill gave me the most coldest and hurt look he could muster, then reached down to retrieve his suitcase. "Perhaps I oughtn't to have bothered in coming back here. A phone call, it seems, would have been sufficient enough had I known you were going to decline my offer."

"Bill, please don't be like this," I hissed desperately.

"No, I understand now, Sookie," he said stiffly, his eyes on Eric again. "I have come where I am unwanted."

"Bill!"

"Goodbye." And then he turned on his heel, and stalked out. It took everything within me not to follow him out and, at least, hug him. My eyes watered with unwanted tears. I just knew it would open up a lot of sore and tender wounds, in seeing Bill again. On one hand, I felt I still loved him. On another, I knew it wouldn't work out between us. It was just far too complicated.

"There will be many more men coming and going in your future, Sookie," Eric said gently, as if to comfort me. "He is just another one of them."

Him saying that, it spooked me out a bit. What was he- a fortune-teller? Or was he just simply trying to reassure an upset girl in her time of need?