Dead and Gone

in the butt in the past few months, but I figured she’d swing around to being her old self sooner or later. You think she’ll reconsider?”
    “Maybe, now that you’re back,” I said, though I had severe doubts. “But she’s gotten to be so intolerant. I don’t think she can work for a shifter. I’m sorry, Sam.”
    He shook his head. His dark mood was no big surprise, considering his mom’s situation and the not-completely-ecstatic reaction of the American populace to the weird side of the world.
    It amazed me that, once upon a time, I hadn’t known, either. I hadn’t realized some of the people I knew were werewolves because I didn’t comprehend there was such a thing. You can misinterpret every mental cue you get if you don’t understand where it’s coming from. I’d always wondered why some people were so hard to read, why their brains gave me a different image from others. It simply hadn’t occurred to me it was because those brains belonged to people who literally turned into animals.
    “You think business’ll slack off because I’m a shapeshifter or because of the murder?” Sam asked. Then he shook himself and said, “Sorry, Sook. I wasn’t thinking about Crystal being your in-law.”
    “I wasn’t ever nuts about her, as you well know,” I said, as matter-of-factly as I could. “But I think it’s awful what was done to her, no matter what she was like.”
    Sam nodded. I’d never seen his face so gloomy and serious. Sam was a creature of sunshine.
    “Oh,” I said, getting up to leave, and then I stopped, shifting from foot to foot. I took a deep breath. “By the way, Eric and I are married now.” If I’d hoped I’d get to make my exit on a light note, my judgment was way, way off. Sam leaped to his feet and grabbed me by the shoulders.
    “What have you done?” he asked. He was deadly serious.
    “I haven’t done anything,” I said, startled by his vehemence. “It was Eric’s doing.” I told Sam about the knife.
    “Didn’t you realize there was some significance to the knife?”
    “I didn’t know it was a knife,” I said, beginning to feel pretty pissed but still maintaining my reasonable voice. “Bobby didn’t tell me. I guess he didn’t know himself, so I couldn’t very well pick it up from his brain.”
    “Where was your sense? Sookie, that was an idiotic thing to do.”
    This was not exactly the reaction I had anticipated from a man I’d been worried about, a man on whose behalf I’d been working my butt off for days. I gathered my hurt and pride around me like a jacket. “Then let me just take my idiotic self home, so you won’t have to put up with my idiocy any longer,” I said, my voice even enough to support a level. “I guess I’ll go home now that you’re back and I don’t have to be here every single minute of my day to make sure things are running okay.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said, but it was too late. I was on my high horse, and I was riding it out of Merlotte’s.
    I was out the back door before our heaviest drinker could have counted to five, and then I was in my car and on the way home. I was mad, and I was sad, and I suspected that Sam was right. That’s when you get the angriest, isn’t it? When you know you’ve done something stupid? Eric’s explanation hadn’t exactly erased my concerns.
    I was scheduled to work that evening, so I had until then to get my act together. There was no question of my not showing up. Whether or not Sam and I were on the outs, I had to work.
    I wasn’t ready to be at home, where I’d have to think about my own confused feelings.
    Instead of going home, I turned and went to Tara’s Togs. I hadn’t seen a lot of my friend Tara since she’d eloped with JB du Rone. But my inner compass was pointing in her direction. To my relief, Tara was in the store alone. McKenna, her “helper,” was not a full-time employee. Tara came out of the back when the bell on the door rang. She looked a little surprised to see me at first, but then she smiled. Our friendship has had its ups and downs, but it looked like we were okay now. Great.
    “What’s up?” Tara asked. She looked attractive and snug gly in a teal sweater. Tara is taller than I am, and real pretty, and a real good businesswoman.
    “I’ve done a stupid thing, and I don’t know how I feel about it,” I said.
    “Tell me,” she commanded, and we went to sit at the table where the wedding catalogs were kept. She shoved the box of Kleenex over