Everybody ate and drank and made lots of toasts.
Sam had saved me a seat by his, at the newlywed couples' table, marked off with a white ribbon. Jason and Michele would join us after they'd served the first wave of guests.
"You look real pretty," he said. "And the arm looks fine, too." I'd been able to leave the bandage off today.
"Thanks, Sam." We hadn't seen each other (except at work) since the night at Stompin' Sally's. He'd given me the slow time I'd asked for. We had signed on to help JB and Tara in their little home-improvement plan, and we'd decided to go to a movie in Shreveport in a week or two on a night we both had off.
I had my own ideas about how our relationship was going to progress, but I know that nothing is worse than assuming.
Late that evening, after we'd helped my brother and his bride fold up all the chairs and tables and load them on a trailer to take back to the church, Sam helped me into his truck. As we drove to my house, he said, "Little lady, I got a question." (He'd picked that up the night of the cornfield, and he wasn't letting it go.)
"Yes, what?" I said, with elaborate patience.
"How did Claude get out of Faery? You said it was sealed up. The portal in your woods was closed."
"You know what I found blooming in my yard yesterday?" I said.
"I don't know where you're going with this, but okay, I'll bite. What did you find growing in your yard?"
"A letter."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Seriously. A letter on a plant. It was one of the roses on my rosebush, you know the big red one by the garage?"
"And you spotted it?"
"It was white. The rosebush is red and green. I park right by it."
"Okay. Who was the letter from?"
"Niall, of course."
"And what did Niall have to say?"
"That he had purposely created the opportunity for someone to break Claude out of fairy jail, because he was sure he hadn't caught all the traitors yet. When his suspect made the attempt, Niall would nab the traitor, and Claude would have to languish - that was the word he used, 'languish' - in the lands of the humans forever, robbed of his beauty." After a short silence, Sam growled, "I don't believe Niall thought about how unhappy Claude would be when he found himself back in the USA without a job, money, or looks. Or who he'd blame for all that."
"Putting himself in someone else's shoes is not the Niall way," I said. "Apparently, the traitor did break Claude out, and Claude decided vengeance was first on his list. Also, he must have had a bank account that Niall didn't know about. Claude contacted Johan Glassport, who'd acted as his lawyer before, because Glassport was the most ruthless human he knew. He bribed Glassport to take part in phase one of the 'get Sookie' project, which apparently was to ensure I went to jail for my whole life so I'd see just how Claude would have had to live. They needed someone else motivated by Sookie-hate to help them out, someone who would be tempted by the unusual bribe - money and a little telepath. Glassport tracked down Steve Newlin. Then they needed the perfect victim, so Glassport argued Arlene out of prison."
"That's pretty convoluted," Sam said.
"Tell me about it. I mean, when I thought about Claude in fairy jail, I kind of got where he was going with it, but still. He would have been much better off if he'd just stolen a gun and shot me."
"Sookie!" Sam was genuinely upset. We were parked at my back door. I glanced out the window and thought I saw a flash of white at the edge of the woods. Karin. Or Bill. She and Bill must be seeing a lot of each other during the night.
"I know, I don't like the mental image, either," I said. "But it's true. Going elaborate reduces your chance of success. So remember this for your future vengeance projects. Short, direct." We sat a moment in silence. "Seriously, Sam, I would have died if I'd been tortured again. I was ready to go."
"But you got them angry with each other. You started them fighting. And you lived. You never give up, Sook." He took my hand.
I would have disputed that if I'd cared to speak. I'd given up a lot, so much I couldn't even begin to evaluate it, but I knew what Sam meant. He meant I'd kept myself and my will to live intact. I didn't know what to say. And finally, that was exactly what I told Sam. "I'm left with nothing to say."
"No, never that." He came around to my side of the truck and helped me slide down in the high heels and snug dress. There might have been a bit more contact than strictly necessary. Even a lot more contact. "You have everything," Sam said. "Everything." His arms tightened around me. "I wish you'd reconsider, about me staying the night."
"I'm tempted," I confessed. "But this time, we're going to be slow and sure."
"I'm sure I want to get in bed with you." He rested his forehead against mine. Then he laughed, just a little. "You're right," he said. "This is the best way to do it. Hard to be patient, though, when we know how good it can be."
I enjoyed my arms around him, the sense of him next to me. And if you were to ask me, I would confess that I thought Sam and I would be together, maybe by Christmas, maybe for always. I couldn't imagine a future without him. But I also knew that if he turned away from me at this moment, somehow I would survive that, and I would find a way to flourish like the yard that still bloomed and grew around my family home.
I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I belong here.