From Dead to Worse (Sookie Stackhouse #8)(50)
Author: Charlaine Harris

"Frannie," I said very slowly and deliberately because I had no idea what I was going to follow that up with. "There’s nothing wrong with your brother at all. I think he’s the greatest. But we just have too many strikes against us as a couple. I want him to have the best chance at making a match with some lucky, lucky woman. So I cut him loose. Believe me, I’m hurting, too." This was mostly true, which helped. But I hoped Amelia had her fingertips primed to deliver some good magic. And I hoped she got the spell right. Just in case, I began shifting away from Frannie and her mother.

Frannie was teetering on the brink of action, and her mother was looking increasingly restless. Amelia had eased forward to the edge of the porch. The smell of magic intensified. For a long moment, the night seemed to catch its breath.

And then Frannie turned away. "Come on, Mama," she said, and the two women got into Frannie’s car. I took advantage of the moment to run up on the porch. Amelia and I stood shoulder to shoulder wordlessly until Frannie started up the car and drove away.

"Well," Amelia said. "So, you broke up with him, I’m gathering."

"Yeah." I was exhausted. "He had too much baggage." Then I winced. "Gosh, I never thought I’d catch myself saying that. Especially considering my own."

"He had his mama." Amelia was on a perceptive roll that night.

"Yeah, he had his mama. Listen, thanks for coming out of the house and risking a mauling."

"What are roommates for?" Amelia gave me a light hug and said, "You look like you need to have a bowl of soup and go to bed."

"Yeah," I said. "That sounds about right."

Chapter 15

I slept very late the next day. And I slept like a stone. I didn’t dream. I didn’t toss or turn. I didn’t get up to pee. When I woke up, it was close to noon, so it was good I didn’t have to be at Merlotte’s until evening.

I could hear voices in the living room. This was the downside of having a roommate. There was someone there when you woke up, and sometimes that person had company. However, Amelia was very good about making enough coffee for me when she got up earlier. That prospect got me out of bed.

I had to get dressed since we had company; besides, the other voice sounded masculine. I did a little brisk grooming in the bathroom and threw off my nightgown. I put on a bra and a T-shirt and some khakis. Good enough. I made a beeline for the kitchen and found that Amelia had indeed made a big pot of coffee. And she’d left a mug ready for me. Oh, great. I poured, and popped some sourdough bread in the toaster. The back porch door slammed, and I turned in surprise to see Tyrese Marley enter with an armful of firewood.

"Where do you keep your wood after you bring it in?" he asked.

"I have a rack by the fireplace in the living room." He’d been splitting the wood Jason had cut and stacked by the toolshed the spring before. "That’s really nice of you," I said, floundering. "Um, have you had any coffee, or some toast? Or…" I glanced at the clock. "What about a ham or meatloaf sandwich?"

"Food sounds good," he said, striding down the hall as though the wood weighed nothing.

So the guest in the living room was Copley Carmichael. Why Amelia’s dad was here, I had no clue. I scrambled to assemble a couple of sandwiches, poured some water, and put two kinds of chips by his plate so Marley could pick what he wanted. Then I sat down at the table myself and finally got to drink my coffee and eat my toast. I still had some of my grandmother’s plum jam to spread on it, and I tried not to be melancholy every time I used it. No point in letting good jam go to waste. She would have certainly looked at it that way.

Marley returned and sat down opposite me with no sign of discomfort. I relaxed myself.

"I appreciate the work," I said after he’d had a bite of his food.

"I got nothing else to do while he talks to Amelia," Marley said. "Plus, if she’s still here all winter, he’ll be glad if she can have a fire. Who cut that wood for you and didn’t split it?"

"My brother," I said.

"Humph," Marley said, and settled into eating.

I finished my toast, poured myself a second mug of coffee, and asked Marley if he needed anything.

"I’m good, thank you," he said, and opened the bag of barbecue potato chips.

I excused myself to take a shower. It was definitely cooler today, and I got a long-sleeved T-shirt out of a drawer I hadn’t opened in months. It was Halloween weather. It was past time to buy a pumpkin and some candy… not that I got many trick-or-treaters. For the first time in days, I felt normal: that is to say, comfortably happy with myself and my world. There was a lot to grieve about, and I would, but I wasn’t walking around expecting a smack in the face.

Of course, the minute I thought that, I began to brood on bad things. I realized I hadn’t heard anything from the Shreveport vampires, and then I wondered why I thought I should or would. This period of adjustment from one regime to another had to be full of tension and negotiation, and it was best to leave them to it. I hadn’t heard from the Weres of Shreveport, either. Since the investigation into the disappearance of all those people was still active, that was a good thing.

And since I’d just broken up with my boyfriend, that meant (theoretically) I was footloose and fancy-free. I put on eye makeup as a gesture toward my freedom. And then I added some lipstick. It was hard to feel adventurous, actually. I hadn’t wanted to be fancy-free.

As I finished making my bed, Amelia knocked at my door.

"Come on in," I said, folding my nightgown and putting it in the drawer. "What’s up?"

"Well, my father has a favor to ask you," she said.

I could feel my face settle into grim lines. Of course, there had to be something Copley wanted if he’d driven up from New Orleans to talk to his daughter. And I could imagine what that request was.

"Go on," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh, Sookie, your body language is already saying no!"

"Ignore my body and speak your piece."

She heaved a big sigh to indicate how reluctant she was to drag me into her dad’s stuff. But I could tell she was tickled pink that he’d asked her to help him. "Well, since I told him about the Vegas vampire takeover, he wants to reestablish his business link with the vampires. He wants an introduction. He was hoping you could, like, broker that."

"I don’t even know Felipe de Castro."

"No, but you know that Victor. And he looks like he’s got his eyes on his own advancement."

"You know him as well as I do," I pointed out.