The Sookie Stackhouse Companion

just too good,” she said. “It’s perfect. I know this is probably wrong of me, but I can’t help feeling okay about this.” There was a lot of silent agreement in the room.
    Gradually, the remaining guests of the unofficial party began to leave. I couldn’t avoid talking to Jannalynn anymore. She’d been sitting behind the table within reach of Sam since I’d returned, and she hadn’t said a word. I knew this situation was hard for her, and I felt sorry it was, but there was nothing I could do about it. She’d known when she’d come to Wright that it was the wrong thing to do.
    What could I see in her brain? I saw grief, resentment, and envy. Jannalynn was wondering why Sam couldn’t see that she was just like me. She was brave and pretty and loyal, too.
    “I have a boyfriend,” I said. “You know I go with Eric Northman.”
    “Doesn’t make any difference,” she said stoically, not meeting my eyes.
    “Sure it does. I love Eric. You love Sam.” Already I could tell that saying anything at all had been the mistake I’d thought it would be, that we were compounding the unhappiness. But I couldn’t simply sit there in silence staring at her.
    Jannalynn could do that, though, and she did. She stared a hole through me and didn’t say a word. I didn’t know where she proposed to sleep that night, but it wasn’t going to be in the sewing room with me, and I was going to bed.
    Luna was ready to depart (by a huge coincidence, so was the cute cop), and I gave her a hug and told her I hoped to see her in Bon Temps someday.
    “Girlfriend, just say the word,” she murmured, and returned the hug.
    I didn’t see Sam anywhere, but I told Bernie good night and took my turn in the bathroom.
    I don’t know what anyone else did after that, but I took the quickest shower on record and slipped into my nightgown and unfolded the couch. I had time to pull the sheet up over me about halfway before I was out like a light. My phone buzzed a couple of times in the night, but all I did was moan and turn over.
    The next morning, it was raining like hell when I woke. The clock told me it was after eight o’clock, and I knew I had to get up. I could smell coffee and a trace of a sweet scent that made me suspect someone had gone to a bakery.
    In fact, Bernie had gone to the store and gotten some Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. Sam and Bernie were sitting at the table. Sam got up to get me a cup of coffee, and I hunched over it gratefully.
    Bernie shoved the paper over to me. It was the Waco paper. There was a short article about the upset at the wedding.
    “Was it on the TV?” I asked.
    “Yeah, apparently,” Sam said. “But Jim’s murder is upstaging the wedding.”
    I nodded. All my glee had faded, leaving me feeling sort of dirty.
    “Bernie, you did great yesterday,” I said. Bernie looked ten years older than she had the day before, but there was vigor in her step and purpose in her voice.
    “I’m glad it’s over. I hope I never have to go through anything like that again. I hope Craig and Deidra are happy.” Three true things.
    I nodded emphatically. I agreed all the way around. “You going to church today?” I asked.
    “Oh, yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
    Sam said, “Sook, you think you can be ready to leave in an hour or so?”
    “Sure. All I have to do is grab up my stuff and put on some makeup.” I’d pulled on my shorts and a shirt and packed my nightgown already.
    “No hurry,” Sam assured me, but I could tell from the way he was sitting that he wanted to get on the road again. I wondered where Jannalynn was. I sort of felt around the house for her mentally, got no other brain signal. Hmmm.
    We were actually out the door in forty-five minutes, after I said all the correct things to Bernie. I didn’t want her to think I hadn’t been brought up right. She smiled at me, and she seemed sincere when she told me she’d enjoyed having me in the house.
    Sam and I were silent for a long time after we left Wright. I checked my cell phone for messages, and sure enough, I had two from Eric. He didn’t like to text, though he would if he had to. He’d left voice messages. First message—“I’ve seen you on the evening news. Call me.” BEEP. Second message—“Every time you leave town you get into trouble. Do you need me to come?” BEEP.
    “Eric all bent out of shape?” Sam asked.
    “Yeah. About like Jannalynn, I expect.” I had to say something. Better to get it