Dead in the Family

at my house, I said, “Oh, yes. The, ah, very slim girl. The young one.”
    “She’s not as young as she looks,” Sam said, bypassing the obvious fact that her age was not the first issue one could have with Jannalynn.
    “Okeydokey. How old is she?”
    “Twenty. One.”
    “Oh, well, she’s quite a girl,” I said solemnly. I forced a smile to my lips. “Seriously, Sam, I’m not judging your choice.” Not much. “Jannalynn’s really, really . . . She’s dynamic.”
    “Thanks,” he said, his face clearing. “She gave me a call after we fought in the pack war. She’s into lions.” Sam had changed into a lion that night, the better to fight. He’d made a magnificent king of beasts.
    “So, how long have you two been dating?”
    “We’ve been talking for a while, but we went out for the first time maybe three weeks ago.”
    “Well, that’s great,” I said. I made myself relax and smile more naturally. “You sure you don’t need a note from her mom?”
    Sam threw the dust cloth at me. I grabbed it and threw it back.
    “Can you two quit playing? I got to talk to Sam,” Tanya said. She’d come in without my hearing her.
    She’s never going to be my best friend, but she’s a good worker and she’s willing to come in two evenings a week after she gets off her day job at Norcross. “You want me to leave?” I asked.
    “No, that’s okay.”
    “Sorry, Tanya. What do you need?” Sam asked, smiling.
    “I need you to change my name on my paychecks,” Tanya said.
    “You changed your name?” I must have been extra slow that day. But Sam would have said it if I hadn’t; he looked just as blank.
    “Yeah, me and Calvin went to a courthouse across the state line in Arkansas and got married,” she said. “I’m Tanya Norris now.”
    Sam and I both stared at Tanya in a moment of silent astonishment.
    “Congratulations!” I said heartily. “I know you’ll be real happy.” I wasn’t so sure about Calvin being happy, but at least I managed to say something nice.
    Sam chimed in, too, with all the right things. Tanya showed us her wedding ring, a broad gold band, and after going into the kitchen to show it to Antoine and D’Eriq, she left as abruptly as she’d arrived to drive back to work at Norcross. She’d mentioned they’d registered at Target and Wal-Mart for the few things they needed, so Sam dashed into his office and picked out a wall clock to give them from all the Merlotte’s employees. He put a jar out by the bar for our contributions, and I dropped in a ten.
    By that time, people were coming in for lunch, and I had to get busy. “I never did get around to asking you some questions,” I said to Sam. “Maybe before I leave work?”
    “Sure, Sook,” he said, and began filling glasses with iced tea. It was a warm day.
    After I’d served drinks and food for about an hour, I was surprised to see Claude coming through the door. Even in rumpled clothes he’d obviously picked up off the floor to pull on, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. He’d pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail . . . and it didn’t detract.
    It was almost enough to make you hate him, really.
    Claude slouched over to me as if he were in Merlotte’s every day . . . and as if his kind and tactful moment last night had never been. “The water heater’s not working,” he said.
    “Hi, Claude. Good to see you,” I said. “Did you sleep well? I’m so glad. I slept well, too. I guess you better do something about the water heater, huh? If you want to shower and wash your clothes. Remember me asking you to help me out by handling some things I can’t? You could call Hank Clearwater. He’s come out to the house before.”
    “I can go have a look,” a voice said. I turned to see Terry Bellefleur standing behind me. Terry is a Vietnam War vet, and he’s got some awful scars—both the kind you can see and the kind you can’t. He’d been very young when he’d gone to war. He’d been very old when he returned. His auburn hair was graying, but it was still thick, and long enough to braid. I’d always gotten along real well with Terry, who could do just about anything around the yard or in the house, by way of repairs.
    “I would sure appreciate it,” I said. “But I don’t want to take advantage, Terry.” He’d always been kind to me. He’d cleared away the debris of my burned kitchen so the builders could start working on the new one, and I’d had to insist he take a fair wage for it.
    “No