Dead Ever After

cheering section and admirer. When I came into my own life, she’d tried to have me murdered.
    “Do you still want me dead?” I said.
    She winced. “No, Sookie. You were a good friend to me and I turned on you. I believed everything the Fellowship was preaching.”
    Her thoughts matched her words, at least as far as they went. I was still not much of a person in Arlene’s estimation. “And that’s why you came by today? To mend fences with me?”
    Though I saw the truth in her thoughts, I couldn’t really believe it until she said, “I came to see if Sam would think of hiring me again.”
    I could not think of a response, I was so astonished. She began to shift around as I stared at her. Finally, I felt able to answer. “Arlene, I feel sorry for your kids, and I know you want to get them back and take care of them,” I said. “But I can’t work with you here at Merlotte’s. You must know that would be impossible.”
    She stiffened and raised her chin. “I’ll talk to Sam,” she said, “and we’ll just see what he has to say.” The old Arlene surfaced. She was sure if she could appeal to a man, she’d get her way.
    “I do the hiring here now. I’m part owner,” I said, poking myself in the chest with my forefinger. Arlene stared, definitely shocked. “It wouldn’t work in a million years. You must know that. You betrayed me in the worst possible way.” I felt a pang of grief, but I wasn’t sure what element of this encounter grieved me most: the fate of Arlene’s kids or the fact that people could hand out hate like candy and find takers.
    The struggle in Arlene’s face made for uncomfortable viewing. She wanted to lay into me, but she’d just told me she had changed and that she understood her former ways were wrong, so she couldn’t really defend herself. She’d been the dominant one in our “friendship,” and she was grappling with the fact that she had no sway over me any longer.
    Arlene took a deep breath and held it for a moment. She was thinking about how angry she was, thinking about protesting, thinking about telling me how disappointed Coby and Lisa would be—when she realized none of that would make any difference because she’d been willing to see me hung on a cross.
    “That’s right,” I said. “I don’t hate you, Arlene.” I was surprised to realize that was true. “But I can’t be around you. Ever.”
    Arlene spun on her heel and left. She was going to find her new friends and pour all her bitterness into their ears. I could tell that right from her head. Not surprisingly, they were guys. Trust Arlene. Or rather, don’t.
    Sam’s mother slipped into the doorway in Arlene’s wake. Bernie remained standing half in, half out, watching Arlene’s progress until my former friend was out Merlotte’s front door. Then she took the chair Arlene had vacated.
    This was going to be my day for really uncomfortable conversations.
    “I heard all that,” Bernie said. “And someday you’ll have to tell me the backstory. Sam’s asleep. Explain what happened to him.” Bernie looked a lot more human. She was about my height, and slim, and I noticed that she’d restored her hair to the same color as Sam’s, a red-gold. Bernie’s hair minded better than Sam’s ever had. I wondered briefly if she was dating someone. But at the moment, she was all business and all mother.
    She already knew the gist of the story, but I filled in the blanks.
    “So Sam was involved with this Jannalynn, the one who showed up at our house in Wright, but he was beginning to have doubts about her.” Bernie was scowling, but she wasn’t angry with me. She was angry that life wasn’t being good to Sam, because she loved him dearly.
    “I think so. He was nuts about her for a while, but that faded.” I wasn’t going to attempt to explain his relationship, and it wasn’t my responsibility. “He’d come to a few realizations about her, and it was—well, not exactly breaking his heart; at least, I don’t think so—but it was painful.”
    “What are you to him?” Bernie looked me right in the eyes.
    “I’m his friend, his good friend, and I’m his business partner now.”
    “Uh-huh.” She eyed me in a way I could only describe as skeptical. “And you sacrificed an irreplaceable artifact to save his life.”
    “I wish you’d quit bringing that up,” I said, and winced. I’d sounded like a ten-year-old. “I was glad to do it,” I added in a more adult tone.
    “Your boyfriend,