Sam chimed in, too, with all the right things. Tanya showed us her wedding ring, a broad gold band, and after going into the kitchen to show it to Antoine and D’Eriq, she left as abruptly as she’d arrived to drive back to work at Norcross. She’d mentioned they’d registered at Target and Wal-Mart for the few things they needed, so Sam dashed into his office and picked out a wall clock to give them from all the Merlotte’s employees. He put a jar out by the bar for our contributions, and I dropped in a ten.

By that time, people were coming in for lunch, and I had to get busy. “I never did get around to asking you some questions,” I said to Sam. “Maybe before I leave work?”

“Sure, Sook,” he said, and began filling glasses with iced tea. It was a warm day.

After I’d served drinks and food for about an hour, I was surprised to see Claude coming through the door. Even in rumpled clothes he’d obviously picked up off the floor to pull on, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. He’d pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail . . . and it didn’t detract.

It was almost enough to make you hate him, really.

Claude slouched over to me as if he were in Merlotte’s every day . . . and as if his kind and tactful moment last night had never been. “The water heater’s not working,” he said.

“Hi, Claude. Good to see you,” I said. “Did you sleep well? I’m so glad. I slept well, too. I guess you better do something about the water heater, huh? If you want to shower and wash your clothes. Remember me asking you to help me out by handling some things I can’t? You could call Hank Clearwater. He’s come out to the house before.”

“I can go have a look,” a voice said. I turned to see Terry Bellefleur standing behind me. Terry is a Vietnam War vet, and he’s got some awful scars—both the kind you can see and the kind you can’t. He’d been very young when he’d gone to war. He’d been very old when he returned. His auburn hair was graying, but it was still thick, and long enough to braid. I’d always gotten along real well with Terry, who could do just about anything around the yard or in the house, by way of repairs.

“I would sure appreciate it,” I said. “But I don’t want to take advantage, Terry.” He’d always been kind to me. He’d cleared away the debris of my burned kitchen so the builders could start working on the new one, and I’d had to insist he take a fair wage for it.