Dead Ever After (Sookie Stackhouse #13)(8)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"So Jannalynn hasn’t gone to Alaska to visit her cousin." Tara was compressing her lips to keep from looking as freaked as she felt. But there was a hint of triumph, too. She was thinking she had known something was fishy about that story.

"Not unless Alaska has gotten a lot hotter."

Tara giggled; but then, she hadn’t been there. "She did something that bad? I read in the paper that someone had confessed over the telephone to the officer in charge of Kym Rowe’s murder and then vanished. Would that be Jannalynn, by any chance?"

I nodded. Tara didn’t seem shocked. Tara knew all about people who did bad things. Two of them had been her parents.

"So you haven’t talked to Sam since then," she said.

"Not since the next morning." I hoped Tara would say she’d seen him, talked to him, but instead she moved on to a topic she considered more interesting.

"What about the Viking? Why is he pissed? His life didn’t need saving. He’s already dead."

I held my hands palms up and open, trying to think how to phrase it. Well, I might as well be honest, if not graphic. "It’s like . . . I had a magic wish. I could have used it for Eric’s benefit, to get him out of a bad situation. And it would have changed his future. But instead, I used it to save Sam." And then I’d waited for the repercussions. Because using strong magic always had consequences.

Tara, who had had bad experiences with vampires, smiled broadly. Though Eric had saved her life once upon a time, she included him in her generic dislike of the undead. "Did a genie grant you three wishes or something?" she said, trying to keep the pleasure out of her voice.

Actually, though she was joking, that was almost the truth. Substitute "fairy" for "genie" and "one wish" for "three wishes," and you’d have the story in a nutshell. Or in a cluviel dor.

"Kind of like that," I said. "Eric does have a lot on his plate right now. Stuff that will completely transform his life." Though what I said was absolutely true, it came out sounding like a weak excuse. Tara tried not to sneer.

"Has anyone from his posse called you? What about Pam?" Tara was thinking I had reason to worry if the area vampires had decided I was nothing to them. And she was right to be concerned. "Just because you break up with the big guy doesn’t mean they hate you, right?" She was thinking they probably did.

"I don’t think we’ve exactly broken up," I said. "But he’s pissed off. Pam passed along a message from him. A text message."

"Better than a Post-it note. Who have you heard from?" Tara asked impatiently. "All this weird shit has happened, and no one’s calling you to talk about it? Sam’s not over here scrubbing your floors and kissing your feet? This house should be full of flowers, candy, and male strippers."

"Ah," I said intelligently. "Well, the yard’s strangely full of flowers. And tomatoes."

"I spit on the supes who’ve let you down," Tara said, fortunately not suiting action to words. "Listen, Sook, stick with your human buds and leave the others by the side of the road." She meant it all the way down to her bones.

"Too late for that," I said. I smiled, but it didn’t feel as though it fit my face right.

"Then come shopping. I need some new bras, since I’m Elsie the Cow these days. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up."

Tara, breastfeeding twins, was notably more bosomy. Maybe more than a bit curvier, too. But I was hardly one to point fingers, and I welcomed the change of focus in our conversation. "How are the kids doing?" I said, smiling more genuinely. "I’m gonna have to babysit them some night so you and JB can go to the movies. How long has it been since you went out together?"

"Since six weeks before I was due," she said. "Mama du Rone has kept them twice during the day so I could go to the store, but she doesn’t want to keep ’em at night when Papa du Rone is home. If I can pump enough milk to get ahead of the little monsters, JB would take me to the Outback. We could eat steak." There was an avid look to her mouth. Tara had been craving red meat ever since she’d started nursing. "Besides, since Hooligans closed, JB doesn’t have to work at night anymore."

JB had been employed at Hooligans as well as at a health club, where he was a trainer. At Hooligans, he’d been doing the (nearly) full monty on ladies’ night to raise extra money for the twins’ birth. I hadn’t spared a moment to think about the fate of the building and business since the owner, my cousin Claude, had vanished from the human world. That was definitely something to worry about when I ran out of other, more important stuff.

"Just let me know next time you’re in a steak mood," I assured Tara, pleased at the prospect of doing her a good turn. "Where were you thinking of shopping today?" Suddenly, I was anxious to get out of the house.

"Let’s go to Shreveport. I like the maternity and baby shop there, and I want to drop by that consignment shop on Youree, too."

"Sure. Let me put on some makeup." In fifteen minutes I was dressed in clean white shorts and a sky blue T-shirt, my hair in a neat ponytail and my skin thoroughly moisturized. I felt more like myself than I had in several days.

Tara and I talked all the way over to Shreveport. Mostly about the babies, of course, because what’s more important than babies? But included in the conversation were Tara’s mother-in-law (a great woman); Tara’s shop (not faring too well this summer); Tara’s assistant, McKenna (whom Tara was trying to fix up with a friend of JB’s); and other items of interest in the Taraverse.

On this very hot summer day in July, it felt comfortingly normal to be having this gossip session while we took a gal-pal road trip.

Though Tara owned and operated an upscale boutique, it didn’t carry specialty clothes like maternity and new-mom wear. She said, "I want me some breastfeeding bras and a breastfeeding nightgown from Moms ‘N More, and at the consignment place I want to pick up a couple of pairs of shorts, since I can’t get my fat baby ass into my pre-baby shorts. You need anything, Sookie?"

"I do have to get a dress for Jason and Michele’s wedding," I said.

"Are you in it? They set a date yet?"

"I’m the only attendant as of now. They narrowed it to a couple of dates, but they’re waiting to pick one after they hear from Michele’s sister. She’s in the army, and she may or may not be able to get leave on those dates." I laughed. "I’m sure Michele will ask her, too, but I’m a sure thing."

"What color you need to wear?"

"Any color I like. She says she doesn’t look good in white, and besides, she went that route for her first wedding. Jason’s wearing a tan suit, and Michele’s wearing chocolate brown. It’s a cocktail dress, and she says it looks great on her."