I might develop high blood pressure. I might have a blocked artery. My heart might beat irregularly. When I got the flu, I would be very sick. I’d fear Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, a stroke, pneumonia. the boogie-bears that hid under the beds of the aging.
What if I told Eric I wanted to be with him forever? Assuming he didn’t scream and run as fast as he could in the other direction, assuming he actually changed me, I tried to imagine what being a vampire would be like. I would watch all my friends grow old and die. I would sleep in the hidey-hole in the closet floor myself. If Jason married Michele, she might not like me holding their babies. I would feel the urge to attack people, to bite them; they’d all be walking McBloodburgers to me. I’d think of people as food. I stared up at the ceiling fan and tried to imagine wanting to bite Andy Bellefleur or Holly. Ick.
On the other hand, I’d never be sick again unless someone shot me or bit me with silver, or staked me, or put me out in the sun. I could protect frail humans from danger. I could be with Eric forever. except for that bit where vampire couples usually didn’t stay together all that long.
Okay, I could still be with Eric for a few years.
How would I make my living? I could only take the later shift at Merlotte’s, and that after dark had fallen, if Sam let me keep my job. And Sam, too, would grow old and die. A new owner might not like having a permanent barmaid who could only work one shift. I could go back to college and take night classes and computer classes until I got some kind of degree. In what?
I’d reached the limit of my imagination. I rolled to my knees and rose from the floor, wondering if I was imagining a slight stiffness in my joints.
Sleep was long in coming that night, despite my very long and very scary day. The silence of the house pressed in around me. Claude came home in the wee hours, whistling.
When I got up the next morning, not bright but way too early, I felt sluggish and dispirited. I found two envelopes shoved under my front door on my way to the porch with my coffee. The first note was from Mr. Cataliades, and it had been hand-delivered by his niece Diantha at three a.m., she’d noted on the envelope. I was sorry to miss a chance to talk to Diantha, though I was grateful she hadn’t woken me. I opened that envelope first out of sheer curiosity. “Dear Miss Stackhouse,” Mr. Cataliades wrote. “Here is a check for the amount in Claudine Crane’s account when she passed away. She wanted you to have it.”
Short and to the point, which was more than most people I’d talked to recently. I flipped the check over and found that it was for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
“Oh my God,” I said out loud. “Oh my God.” I dropped it because my fingers suddenly lost their power, and the check drifted down to the porch. I scrambled to retrieve it and read it again to make sure I hadn’t been mistaken.
“Oh,” I said. I was sticking with the classics, because saying anything else seemed to be beyond me. I couldn’t even imagine what I would do with so much money. That was beyond me, too. I had to give myself a little space until I could think about this unexpected legacy with any rational plan.
I carried the amazing check into the house and put it in a drawer, terrified something would happen to it before I got it to the bank. Only when I was sure it was safe did I even think of opening my other note, which was from Bill.
I carried it back out to the porch chair and took a gulp of my cooling coffee. I tore open the envelope.
“Dearest Sookie—I didn’t want to frighten you by knocking on your door at two in the morning, so I’m leaving this for you to read in the daylight. I wondered why you had been in my house last week. I knew you’d come in, and I knew that sooner or later your motive would become apparent. Your generous heart has given me the cure I needed.
“I never thought I would see Judith after the last time we parted. There were reasons I didn’t call her over the years. I understand she told you why Lorena picked her to turn vampire. Lorena didn’t ask me before she attacked Judith. Please believe this. I would never condemn someone to our life unless she wanted it and told me so.”
Okay, Bill was giving me credit for some complicated thinking. I’d never dreamed of suspecting that Bill had asked Lorena to find him a mate resembling his late wife.
“I would never have been brave enough to contact Judith myself for fear she hated me. I am so glad to see her again. And her blood, freely given, has already worked a great healing in me.”
All right! That had been the whole point.
“Judith has agreed to stay for a week so we can ‘catch up’ with each other. Maybe you will join us some evening? Judith was most impressed with your kindness. Love, Bill.”
I forced myself to smile down at the folded piece of paper. I’d just write him right back and tell him how pleased I was that he was better and that he’d renewed his old relationship with Judith. Of course, I hadn’t been happy when he was dating Selah Pumphrey, a human real estate dealer, because we had only recently broken up, and I knew he didn’t really care about her. Now I was determined to be happy for Bill. I was not going to be one of those awful people who gets all bent out of shape when the ex acquires a replacement. That was hypocritical and selfish to the extreme, and I hoped I was a better person than that. At least I was determined to provide a good imitation of such a person.
“Okay,” I said to my coffee mug. “That turned out great.”
“Would you rather talk to me than to your coffee?” Claude asked.
I’d heard feet on the creaky stairs through the open window, and I’d registered that another brain was up and working, but I hadn’t foreseen that he’d join me on the porch.
“You got in late,” I said. “You want me to get you a cup of coffee? I made plenty.”
“No, thank you. I’ll have some pineapple juice in a minute. It’s a beautiful day.” Claude was shirtless. At least he was wearing drawstring pants with the Dallas Cowboys all over them. Ha! He wished!
“Yeah,” I said, with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Claude raised one perfectly shaped black eyebrow.
“Who’s down in the dumps?” he asked.
“No, I’m very happy.”
“Yes, I can see the joy written all over your face. What’s the matter, Cousin?”
“I did get the check from Claudine’s estate. God bless her. That was so generous.” I looked up at Claude, putting all my sincerity into my face. “Claude, I hope you’re not mad at me. That’s just. so much money. I haven’t got a clue what I want to do with it.”
Claude shrugged. “That was what Claudine wished. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Claude, you’ll have to excuse me being surprised that you care. I would’ve said you didn’t give a flying eff how I felt. Now you’re being all sweet with Hunter, and you’re offering to help me clean out the attic.”
“Maybe I’m developing a cousinly concern for you.” He raised one eyebrow.
“Maybe pigs will fly.”
He laughed. “I’m trying to be more human,” he confessed. “Since I’ll live out my long existence among humans, apparently, I’m trying to be more. ”
“Likable?” I supplied.
“Ouch,” he said, but he wasn’t really hurt. Being hurt would presuppose that he cared about my opinion. And that was something you couldn’t be taught, right?
“Where’s the boyfriend been?” he asked. “I do so love the smell of vampire around the house.”
“Last night was the first time I’ve seen him in a week. And we didn’t have any alone time.”
“You two have a fight?” Claude settled one hip on the porch railing, and I could tell he was determined to show me he could be interested in someone else’s life.