it the night before. I flung open my closet and stared. Sam had seen the white flowered dress. The denim jumper wasn’t nice enough for Gran’s friends. Finally I yanked out some khaki slacks and a bronze silk blouse with short sleeves. I had brown leather sandals and a brown leather belt that would look good. I hung a chain around my neck, stuck in some big gold earrings, and I was ready. As if he’d timed it, Sam rang the doorbell.
There was a moment of awkwardness as I opened the door.
“You’re welcome to come in, but I think we just have time—”
“I’d like to sit and visit, but I think we just have time—”
We both laughed.
I locked the door and pulled it to, and Sam hurried to open the door of his pickup. I was glad I’d worn pants, as I pictured trying to get up in the high cab in one of my shorter skirts.
“Need a boost?” he asked hopefully.
“I think I got it,” I said, trying not to smile.
We were silent on the way to the Community Building, which was in the older part of Bon Temps; the part that predated the War. The structure was not antebellum, but there had actually been a building on that site that had gotten destroyed during the War, though no one seemed to have a record of what it had been.
The Descendants of the Glorious Dead were a mixed bunch. There were some very old, very fragile members, and some not quite so old and very lively members, and there were even a scattering of middle-aged men and women. But there were no young members, which Gran had often lamented, with many significant glances at me.
Mr. Sterling Norris, a longtime friend of my grandmother’s and the mayor of Bon Temps, was the greeter that night, and he stood at the door shaking hands and having a little conversation with everyone who entered.
“Miss Sookie, you look prettier every day,” Mr. Norris said. “And Sam, we haven’t seen you in a coon’s age! Sookie, is it true this vampire is a friend of yours?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can you say for sure that we’re all safe?”
“Yes, I’m sure you are. He’s a very nice . . . person.” Being? Entity? If you like the living dead, he’s pretty neat?
“If you say so,” Mr. Norris said dubiously. “In my time, such a thing was just a fairy tale.”
“Oh, Mr. Norris, it’s still your time,” I said with the cheerful smile expected of me, and he laughed and motioned us on in, which was what was expected of him. Sam took my hand and sort of steered me to the next to last row of metal chairs, and I waved at my grandmother as we took our seats. It was just time for the meeting to start, and the room held maybe forty people, quite a gathering for Bon Temps. But Bill wasn’t there.
Just then the president of Descendants, a massive, solid woman by the name of Maxine Fortenberry, came to the podium.
“Good evening! Good evening!” she boomed. “Our guest of honor has just called to say he’s having car trouble and will be a few minutes late. So let’s go on and have our business meeting while we’re waiting for him.”
The group settled down, and we got through all the boring stuff, Sam sitting beside me with his arms crossed over his chest, his right leg crossed over the left at the ankle. I was being especially careful to keep my mind guarded and face smiling, and I was a little deflated when Sam leaned slightly to me and whispered, “It’s okay to relax.”
“I thought I was,” I whispered back.
“I don’t think you know how.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. I was going to have a few things to say to Mr. Merlotte after the meeting.
Just then Bill came in, and there was a moment of sheer silence as those who hadn’t seen him before adjusted to his presence. If you’ve never been in the company of a vampire before, it’s a thing you really have to get used to. Under the flourescent lighting, Bill really looked much more unhuman than he did under the dim lighting in Merlotte’s, or the equally dim lighting in his own home. There was no way he could pass for a regular guy. His pallor was very marked, of course, and the deep pools of his eyes looked darker and colder. He was wearing a lightweight medium-blue suit, and I