"Arlene's having trouble with one of her artificial nails," he explained, looking embarrassed at having to relay this feminine problem. "And Coby and Lisa were raring to get over here." I noticed Rene was still in his work clothes— heavy boots, knife, hat, and all. Arlene wasn't going to let him take her anywhere until he showered and changed.
Coby was eight and Lisa was five, and they were hanging all over me like big earrings when Rene bent to kiss them good-bye. His affection for the kids gave Rene a big gold star in my book, and I smiled at him approvingly. I took the kids' hands to lead them back to the kitchen for some icecream.
"We'll see you about ten-thirty, eleven," he said. "If that's all right." He put his hand on the doorknob.
"Sure," I agreed. I opened my mouth to offer to keep the kids for the night, as I'd done on previous occasions, but then I thought of Tina's limp body. I decided that tonight they'd better not stay. I raced the kids to the kitchen, and a minute or two later I heard Rene's old pickup rattling downthe driveway.
I picked up Lisa. "I can hardly lift you anymore, girl, you're getting so big! And you, Coby, you shaving yet?" We sat at the table for a good thirty minutes while the children ate ice cream and rattled off their list of achievements since we'd last visited.
Then Lisa wanted to read to me, so I got out a coloring book with the color and number words printed inside, and she read those to me with some pride. Coby, of course, had to prove he could read much better, and then they wanted to watch a favorite show. Before I knew it, it was dark.
"My friend is coming over tonight," I told them. "His name is Bill."
"Mama told us you had a special friend," Coby said. "I better like him. He better be nice to you."
"Oh, he is," I assured the boy, who had straightened and thrust out his chest, ready to defend me if my special friend wasn't nice enough in Coby's estimation.
"Does he send you flowers?" Lisa asked romantically.
"No, not yet. Maybe you can kind of hint I'd like some?"
"Ooo. Yeah, I can do that."
"Has he asked you to marry him?
"Well, no. But I haven't asked him, either."
Naturally, Bill picked that moment to knock.
"I have company," I said, smiling, when I answered the door.
"I can hear," he said.
I took his hand and led him into the kitchen.
"Bill, this is Coby and this young woman is Lisa," I said formally.
"Good, I've been wanting to meet you," Bill said, to my surprise. "Lisa and Coby, is it all right with you if I keep company with your aunt Sookie?"
They eyed him thoughtfully. "She isn't really our aunt," Coby said, testing the waters. "She's our mom's good friend."
"Is that right?"
"Yes, and she says you don't send her flowers," Lisa said. For once, her little voice was crystal clear. I was so glad to realize that Lisa had gotten over her little problem with her r's. Really.
Bill looked sideways at me. I shrugged. "Well, they asked me," I said helplessly.
"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "I'll have to mend my ways, Lisa. Thank you for pointing that out to me. When is Aunt Sookie's birthday, do you know?"
I could feel my face flushing. "Bill," I said sharply. "Cut it out."
"Do you know, Coby?" Bill asked the boy.
Coby shook his head, regretfully. "But I know it's in the summer because the last time Mama took Sookie to lunch in Shreveport for her birthday, it was summertime. We stayed with Rene."
"You're smart to remember that, Coby," Bill told him.
"I'm smarter than that! Guess what I learned in school the other day." And Coby was off and running.
Lisa eyed Bill with great attention the whole time Coby spoke, and when Coby was finished, she said, "You look real white. Bill."
"Yes," he said, "that's my normal complexion."
The kids exchanged glances. I could tell they were deciding that "normal complexion" was an illness, and it wouldn't be too polite to ask more questions. Every now and then children show a certain tactfulness.
Bill, initially a little stiff, began to get more and more flexible as the evening wore on. I was ready to admit I was tired by nine, but he was still going strong with the kids when Arlene and Rene came by to pick them up at eleven.
I'd just introduced my friends to Bill, who shook their hands in an absolutely normal way, when another caller arrived.
A handsome vampire with thick black hair combed into an improbable wavy style strolled up out of the woods as Arlene was bundling the kids into the truck, and Rene and Bill were chatting. Bill waved a casual hand at the vampire, and he raised one in return, joining Bill and Rene as if he'd been expected.
From the front porch swing, I watched Bill introduce the two, and the vampire and Rene shook hands. Rene was gaping at the newcomer, and I could tell he felt he'd recognized him. Bill looked meaningfully at Rene and shook his head, and Rene's mouth closed on whatever comment he'd been going to make.
The newcomer was husky, taller than Bill, and he wore old jeans and an "I Visited Graceland" T-shirt. His heavy boots were worn at the heel. He carried a squirt bottle ofsynthetic blood in one hand and took a swig from time to time. Mr. Social Skills.
Maybe I'd been cued by Rene's reaction, but the more I looked at the vampire, the more familiar he seemed. I tried mentally warming up the skin tone, adding a few lines, making him stand straighter and investing his face with some liveliness.
Oh my God.
It was the man from Memphis.
Rene turned to go, and Bill began steering the newcomer up to me. From ten feet away, the vampire called, "Hey, Bill tells me someone killed your cat!" He had a heavy Southern accent.
Bill closed his eyes for a second, and I just nodded speechlessly.
I said"Well, I'm sorry about that. I like cats," the tall vampire id, and I clearly got the idea he didn't mean he liked to stroke their fur. I hoped the kids weren't picking up on that, but Arlene's horrified face appeared in the truck window. All the good will Bill had established had probably just gone down the drain.
Rene shook his head behind the vampire's back and climbed into the driver's seat, calling a good-bye as he started up the engine. He stuck his head out the window for a long last look at the newcomer. He must have said something to Arlene because she appeared at her window again, staring for all she was worth. I saw her mouth drop open in shock as she looked harder at the creature standing beside Bill. Her head disappeared into the truck, and I heard a screech as the truck pulled away. "Sookie," Bill said warningly, "this isBubba." "Bubba," I repeated, not quite trusting my ears. "Yep, Bubba," the vampire said cheerfully, goodwill radiating from his fearsome smile. "That's me. Pleased to meetcha."
I shook hands with him, making myself smile back. Good God Almighty, I never thought I'd be shaking hands withHim. But he'd sure changed for the worse.
"Bubba, would you mind waiting here on the porch? Let me explain our arrangement to Sookie."
"That's all right with me," Bubba said casually. He settled on the swing, as happy and brainless as a clam.
We went into the living room, but not before I'd noticed that when Bubba had made his appearance, much of the night noise—bugs, frogs—had simply stopped. "I had hoped to explain this to you before Bubba got here," Bill whispered. "But I couldn't."
I said, "Is that who I think it is?"
"Yes. So now you know at least some of the sighting stories are true. Butdon't call him by his name. Call him Bubba! Something went wrong when he came over—from human to vampire—maybe it was all the chemicals in his blood." "But he was really dead, wasn't he?" "Not... quite. One of us was a morgue attendant and a big fan, and he could detect the tiny spark still left, so he brought him over, in a hurried manner." "Brought him over?"