Club Dead

had been weird. I turned out the lamp and took off the robe, tossing it across the foot of the bed. I snuggled between the sheets again, the blanket and spread pulled up to my chin. It was cold and bleak outside, but here I was, finally, warm and safe and alone.
    Really, really alone.
     
     
    T HE NEXT MORNING, Alcide was already gone when I got up. Construction and surveying people get going early, naturally, and I was used to sleeping late because of my job at the bar and because I hung around with a vampire. If I wanted to spend time with Bill, it had to be at night, obviously.
    There was a note propped up on the coffeepot. I had a slight headache since I am not used to alcohol and I’d had two drinks the night before—the headache was not quite a hangover, but I wasn’t my normal cheerful self, either. I squinted at the tiny printing.
    “Running errands. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in the afternoon.”
    For a minute I felt disappointed and deflated. Then I got a hold of myself. It wasn’t like he’d called me up and scheduled this as a romantic weekend, or like we really knew each other. Alcide had had my company foisted on him. I shrugged, and poured myself a cup of coffee. I made some toast and turned on the news. After I’d watched one cycle of CNN headlines, I decided to shower. I took my time. What else was there to do?
    I was in danger of experiencing an almost unknown state—boredom.
    At home, there was always something to do, though it might not be something I particularly enjoyed. If you have a house, there’s always some little job waiting for your attention. And when I was in Bon Temps, there was the library to go to, or the dollar store, or the grocery. Since I’d taken up with Bill, I’d also been running errands for him that could only be done in the daytime when offices were open.
    As Bill crossed my mind, I was plucking a stray hair from my eyebrow line, leaning over the sink to peer in the bathroom mirror. I had to lay down the tweezers and sit on the edge of the tub. My feelings for Bill were so confused and conflicting, I had no hope of sorting them out anytime soon. But knowing he was in pain, in trouble, and I didn’t know how to find him—that was a lot to bear. I had never supposed that our romance would go smoothly. It was an interspecies relationship, after all. And Bill was a lot older than me. But this aching chasm I felt now that he was gone—that, I hadn’t ever imagined.
    I pulled on some jeans and a sweater and made my bed. I lined up all my makeup in the bathroom I was using, and hung the towel just so. I would have straightened up Alcide’s room if I hadn’t felt it would be sort of impertinent to handle his things. So I read a few chapters of my book, and then decided I simply could not sit in the apartment any longer.
    I left a note for Alcide telling him I was taking a walk, and then I rode down in the elevator with a man in casual clothes, lugging a golf bag. I refrained from saying, “Going to play golf?” and confined myself to mentioning that it was a good day to be outside. It was bright and sunny, clear as a bell, and probably in the fifties. It was a happy day, with all the Christmas decorations looking bright in the sun, and lots of shopping traffic.
    I wondered if Bill would be home for Christmas. I wondered if Bill could go to church with me on Christmas Eve, or if he would. I thought of the new Skil saw I’d gotten Jason; I’d had it on layaway at Sears in Monroe for months, and just picked it up a week ago. I had gotten a toy for each of Arlene’s kids, and a sweater for Arlene. I really didn’t have anyone else to buy a gift for, and that was pathetic. I decided I’d get Sam a CD this year. The idea cheered me. I love to give presents. This would have been my first Christmas with a boyfriend . . .
    Oh, hell, I’d come full cycle, just like Headline News .
    “Sookie!” called a voice.
    Startled out of my dreary round of thoughts, I looked around to see that Janice was waving at me out of the door of her shop, on the other side of the street. I’d unconsciously walked the direction I knew. I waved back at her.
    “Come on over!” she said.
    I went down to the corner and crossed with the light. The shop was busy, and Jarvis and Corinne had their hands full with customers.
    “Christmas parties tonight,” Janice explained, while her hands were busy rolling up a young matron’s black shoulder-length hair. “We’re not usually