Dead Until Dark

“I’ll have to mend my ways, Lisa. Thank you for pointing that out to me. When is Aunt Sookie’s birthday, do you know?”
    I could feel my face flushing. “Bill,” I said sharply. “Cut it out.”
    “Do you know, Coby?” Bill asked the boy.
    Coby shook his head, regretfully. “But I know it’s in the summer because the last time Mama took Sookie to lunch in Shreveport for her birthday, it was summertime. We stayed with Rene.”
    “You’re smart to remember that, Coby,” Bill told him.
    “I’m smarter than that! Guess what I learned in school the other day.” And Coby was off and running.
    Lisa eyed Bill with great attention the whole time Coby spoke, and when Coby was finished, she said, “You look real white, Bill.”
    “Yes,” he said, “that’s my normal complexion.”
    The kids exchanged glances. I could tell they were deciding that “normal complexion” was an illness, and it wouldn’t be too polite to ask more questions. Every now and then children show a certain tactfulness.
    Bill, initially a little stiff, began to get more and more flexible as the evening wore on. I was ready to admit I was tired by nine, but he was still going strong with the kids when Arlene and Rene came by to pick them up at eleven.
    I’d just introduced my friends to Bill, who shook their hands in an absolutely normal way, when another caller arrived.
    A handsome vampire with thick black hair combed into an improbable wavy style strolled up out of the woods as Arlene was bundling the kids into the truck, and Rene and Bill were chatting. Bill waved a casual hand at the vampire, and he raised one in return, joining Bill and Rene as if he’d been expected.
    From the front porch swing, I watched Bill introduce the two, and the vampire and Rene shook hands. Rene was gaping at the newcomer, and I could tell he felt he’d recognized him. Bill looked meaningfully at Rene and shook his head, and Rene’s mouth closed on whatever comment he’d been going to make.
    The newcomer was husky, taller than Bill, and he wore old jeans and an “I Visited Graceland” T-shirt. His heavy boots were worn at the heel. He carried a squirt bottle of synthetic blood in one hand and took a swig from time to time. Mr. Social Skills.
    Maybe I’d been cued by Rene’s reaction, but the more I looked at the vampire, the more familiar he seemed. I tried mentally warming up the skin tone, adding a few lines, making him stand straighter and investing his face with some liveliness.
    Oh my God.
    It was the man from Memphis.
    Rene turned to go, and Bill began steering the newcomer up to me. From ten feet away, the vampire called, “Hey, Bill tells me someone killed your cat!” He had a heavy Southern accent.
    Bill closed his eyes for a second, and I just nodded speechlessly.
    “Well, I’m sorry about that. I like cats,” the tall vampire said, and I clearly got the idea he didn’t mean he liked to stroke their fur. I hoped the kids weren’t picking up on that, but Arlene’s horrified face appeared in the truck window. All the goodwill Bill had established had probably just gone down the drain.
    Rene shook his head behind the vampire’s back and climbed into the driver’s seat, calling a good-bye as he started up the engine. He stuck his head out the window for a long last look at the newcomer. He must have said something to Arlene because she appeared at her window again, staring for all she was worth. I saw her mouth drop open in shock as she looked harder at the creature standing beside Bill. Her head disappeared into the truck, and I heard a screech as the truck pulled away.
    “Sookie,” Bill said warningly, “this is Bubba .”
    “Bubba,” I repeated, not quite trusting my ears.
    “Yep, Bubba,” the vampire said cheerfully, goodwill radiating from his fearsome smile. “That’s me. Pleased to meetcha.”
    I shook hands with him, making myself smile back. Good God Almighty, I never thought I’d be shaking hands with him . But he’d sure changed for the worse.
    “Bubba, would you mind waiting here on the porch? Let me explain our arrangement to Sookie.”
    “That’s all right with me,” Bubba said casually. He settled on the swing, as happy and brainless as a clam.
    We went into the living room, but not before I’d noticed that when Bubba had made his appearance, much of the night noise—bugs, frogs—had simply stopped. “I had hoped to explain this to you before Bubba got here,” Bill whispered. “But I