From Dead to Worse

had long brown hair and big brown eyes and she was maybe twenty-five. She was wearing khakis and a polo shirt with a logo on the chest, a laughing duck. The legend above the duck read, “Jerry’s Detailing.” “Nice to meet you,” Kristen said insincerely. “I’m Kristen Duchesne, Remy’s girlfriend.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” I said, more honestly. “Sookie Stackhouse.”
    “You didn’t offer this woman a drink, Remy! Sookie, can I get you a Coke or a Sprite?”
    She knew what was in the refrigerator. I wondered if she lived here. Well, none of my business, as long as she was good to Hadley’s son.
    “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ve got to be going in a minute.” I made a little production out of looking at my watch. “I got to go to work this evening.”
    “Oh, where is that?” Kristen asked. She was a little more relaxed.
    “Merlotte’s. It’s a bar in Bon Temps,” I said. “About eighty miles from here.”
    “Sure, that’s where your wife was from,” Kristen said, glancing at Remy.
    Remy said, “Sookie came with some news, I’m afraid.” His hands twisted together, though his voice was steady. “Hadley is dead.”
    Kristen inhaled sharply but she had to keep her comment to herself because Hunter dashed back into the room. “Daddy, I washed my hands!” he shouted, and his father smiled at him.
    “Good for you, son,” he said, and ruffled the boy’s dark hair. “Say hello to Kristen.”
    “Hey, Kristen,” Hunter said without much interest.
    I stood. I wished I had a business card to leave. This seemed odd and wrong, to just walk out. But Kristen’s presence was oddly inhibiting. She picked up Hunter and slung him on her hip. He was quite a load for her, but she made a point of making it look easy and habitual, though it wasn’t. But she did like the little boy; I could see it in her head.
    “Kristen likes me,” Hunter said, and I looked at him sharply.
    “Sure I do,” Kristen said, and laughed.
    Remy was looking from Hunter to me with a troubled face, a face that was just beginning to look worried.
    I wondered how to explain our relationship to Hunter. I was pretty close to being his aunt, as we reckon things here. Kids don’t care about second cousins.
    “Aunt Sookie,” Hunter said, testing the words. “I got an aunt?”
    I took a deep breath. Yes, you do, Hunter, I thought.
    “I never had one before.”
    “You got one now,” I told him, and I looked into Remy’s eyes. They were frightened. He hadn’t spelled it out to himself yet, but he knew.
    There was something I had to say to him, regardless of Kristen’s presence. I could feel her confusion and her sense that something was going on without her knowledge. But I didn’t have the space on my agenda to worry about Kristen, too. Hunter was the important person.
    “You’re gonna need me,” I told Remy. “When he gets a little older, you’re gonna need to talk. My number’s in the book, and I’m not going anywhere. You understand?”
    Kristen said, “What’s going on? Why are we getting so serious?”
    “Don’t worry, Kris,” Remy said gently. “Just family stuff.”
    Kristen lowered a wriggling Hunter to the floor. “Uh-huh,” she said, in the tone of someone who knows full well she’s having the wool pulled over her eyes.
    “Stackhouse,” I reminded Remy. “Don’t put it off till too late, when he’s already miserable.”
    “I understand,” he said. He looked miserable himself, and I didn’t blame him.
    “I’ve got to go,” I said again, to reassure Kristen.
    “Aunt Sookie, you going?” Hunter asked. He wasn’t quite ready to hug me yet, but he thought about it. He liked me. “You coming back?”
    “Sometime, Hunter,” I said. “Maybe your dad will bring you to visit me someday.”
    I shook Kristen’s hand, shook Remy’s, which they both thought was odd, and opened the door. As I put one foot on the steps, Hunter said silently, Bye, Aunt Sookie.
    Bye, Hunter, I said right back.