Unexpectedly, tears welled up in my eyes. I groped for Sam’s hand, felt it grip mine. “Hey, Leonard,” Sam said to the nearest man, a gray-haired guy wearing a khaki shirt and khaki pants.
“Sam,” Leonard said, bobbing his head.
Sister nodded at us. “We’ll get this done,” she assured Sam. “Day’s half over. Bring Sookie to the next class reunion, you hear?”
Though I knew Sam had a real girlfriend and I was only standing in for the weekend, I had a giddy little tingle of warmth at the welcome I’d received from his family and friends. I had to stop in amazement when we went in the front door. The little house was a beehive of activity inside as well as out.
There were some bouquets of carnations on the occasional tables in the living room. One had balloons attached, which made the atmosphere weirdly cheerful. While we’d been gone, not only had the florist van stopped by, but someone had delivered a platter of cold cuts and cheese, and bread. Sliced tomatoes and everything else that might conceivably go on a sandwich were set out beside the platter, along with some “wedding” paper plates. Sam and I helped ourselves, as everyone else had done. Mindy’s children were running around in high excitement.
The house felt very small, very full of life, and all the brains were buzzing with excitement and happiness.
While Sam and I ate in the living room, sitting side by side on the couch, Mason brought me a glass of sweet tea, carrying it very carefully. “Here, Aunt Sookie,” he said proudly, and though I opened my mouth to correct the title, I just said, “Thank you, darlin’.” Mason grinned, looked instantly bashful, and dashed away.
Sam put his arm around me and kissed me on the cheek.
I took a sip of the tea because I didn’t know what else to do. I thought Sam was getting a little too into his role-playing.
“After all, you are my girlfriend this weekend,” he said close to my ear, and I stifled a laugh because it tickled.
“Uh-huh,” I said, infusing the words with a little hint of warning.
He didn’t remove his arm until he needed it to pick up his sandwich, and I shook my head at him . . . but I was smiling. I couldn’t help it. I was so uplifted at the community rallying around the Merlottes and the Lisles. I hadn’t felt this hopeful in . . . forever.
That lasted about five more minutes. The brains outside grew jangled with agitation. It began about the same time that I noticed an increased number of vehicles passing in front of the house. Given the general turmoil, I didn’t think much of it. However, I glimpsed movement out the front window, and I half stood to look through Bernie’s sheers. There were four cars parked across the street and at least twenty newcomers standing around, blocking the cars of the volunteers, and the family cars, too.
Sister was yelling, poking her finger at the chest of a man three times as big around as she was. He was yelling back. And finally, he shoved her and she went sprawling.
Sam had jumped to his feet to look out the window. When he saw his friend fall, he yelled and shot out of the house, Doke and Craig following him. Bernie zipped through the living room soon after, pelting out the front door like the strong woman she was.
There was lots of shouting, lots of commotion, and I wondered if I should join them, if I could be of any help. Then I thought twice. There was something contrived about the whole incident. Why would a confrontation be staged in front of the house?
So something could happen at the back.
Mindy and her children were standing in the hall, and I understood that Mindy didn’t want the kids to see any violence through the front or back windows. I nodded at her, held my finger over my lips, and eased into the kitchen. The small wooden bat the men had been using to lob balls to Mason the day before was by the back door, and I picked it up and hefted it. I was glad it was wood and not plastic. I looked out the window cautiously. Yes, someone was creeping through the backyard. A teenage boy, lean and lanky and angry. He had something in his hand.
My heart was pounding a mile a minute, and I had to make myself calm down so I could read his thoughts. He had some kind of a bomb, and he was planning on opening the back door and tossing it in and running like hell. I had no idea what kind of device it was. It might be a stink bomb or a smoke bomb . . . or a firebomb.
I felt a movement behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Mindy creeping into the room. She’d made the kids lie down on the hall floor, and had come in to provide backup. I felt an unexpected surge of emotion. My resolve got a shot of adrenaline.
So here’s where I may have overreacted.
When the teenager opened the back door, so very cautiously, and stuck his hand in, I shoved the door all the way open, took a half step, and swung the bat as hard as I could.
I broke his arm. And here’s the thing: Though what he was holding turned out to be a stink bomb, not something that would actually physically harm Sam’s family, I never did feel bad about it afterward. In fact, in a savage kind of way I was glad I’d broken a bone.
This was the new me. Though I could regret I’d changed, it was a done deal. I couldn’t regenerate the tenderhearted me. I didn’t know how much of this alteration in my character was due to the blood bond I shared with a big, unscrupulous Viking and how much of it was due to the torture I’d undergone . . . but I wasn’t exactly the same nice person, as this boy had just found out.
He screamed in pain, and people came running from all over, both his buddies and the Merlotte family and their friends, and then the police, both in and out of uniform, and it was all chaos for a good forty minutes.
Since Mindy had been standing there while the boy came in the back door—and when he was blubbering in pain, he himself admitted it—I was in the clear.
In fact, his hastily summoned parents were absolutely horrified, didn’t try to dodge the facts or excuse his actions. They were stand-up people, which was a huge relief, because the boy was Nathan Arrowsmith, the only child of the Reverend and Mrs. Bart Arrowsmith. Talk about your touchy situation.
What did Sam’s family do? Sam’s family had a prayer meeting.
My gran had been a religious woman, and I liked to think of myself as a striving Christian. (Lately, I’d been more striving than Christian.) But we’d never had a family prayer circle. So I felt a little self-conscious about standing in the living room holding hands with Doke and Sam while all of us bowed our heads and prayed out loud, one by one.
Bernie identified herself to God, which I thought was kind of unnecessary, and then asked God to make her enemies see the light of tolerance. Mindy asked that God grant his blessing to the wedding and keep it peaceful. Craig very manfully asked God to forgive Nathan Arrowsmith and those who had conspired with him. Mason asked God to give him back his baseball bat. (I winced at that one.) Doke asked God to cure the hatred growing in the people of Wright. I asked God to restore peace in our hearts, which was something we all needed. Sam put in a request for the safety of everyone involved in the wedding. Bonnie got too self-conscious to say anything and started crying—pretty understandable in a three-year-old.
I felt a little better afterward, and I think the family did, too. It was definitely time to get ready to go over to the church again, and for the second time that day I retreated to the guest/sewing room to get dressed. I put on the sleeveless blue dress I’d borrowed from Tara. I wore Gran’s pearl necklace and earrings and the black heels. I pulled my hair off my face with a pearl comb—also Gran’s—and left it loose. All I’d had to buy was a lipstick.