After they’d called their store to arrange pickup and written a check, the dealers departed with one or two of their smaller purchases. They seemed as satisfied as I was with the day’s work.

Within an hour, a big Splendide truck came up the driveway with two husky young men in the cab. Forty-five minutes after that, the furniture was padded and loaded into the back. After it was gone, it was time for me to get ready for work. I regretfully postponed examining the items in my night table drawer.

Though I had to hustle, I took a moment to enjoy having my house to myself as I put on my makeup and my uniform. It was warm enough to break out my shorts, I decided.

I’d gone to Wal-Mart and bought two new pair the week before. In honor of their debut, I’d made sure my legs were shaved extra smooth. My tan was already well established. I looked in the mirror, pleased with the look.

I got to Merlotte’s about five. The first person I saw was the new waitress, India. India had smooth chocolate skin and cornrows and a stud in her nose, and she was the most cheerful human being I’d encountered in a month of Sundays. Today she gave me a smile as if I were exactly the person she’d been waiting to see . . . which was literally true. I was replacing India.

“You look out for trouble with that goober on five,” she said. “He’s tossing ’em back. He must’ve had a fight with his wife.”

I would know if he had or not after a moment’s “listening in.” “Thanks, India. Anything else?”

“That couple on eleven, they want their tea unsweet with lots of lemon on the side. Their food should be up soon, the fried pickles and a burger each. Cheese on his.”

“Okeydokey. Have a good evening.”

“I’m planning on it. I got a date.”

“Who with?” I asked, out of sheer idle curiosity.

“Lola Rushton,” she said.

“I think I went to high school with Lola,” I said, with only a short beat to indicate that India’s dating women was any more than a daily occurrence.

“She remembers you,” India said, and laughed.

I was sure that was so, since I’d been the weirdest person in my little high school class. “Everyone remembers me as Crazy Sookie,” I said, trying to keep the rue from my voice.

“She had a crush on you for a while,” India told me.

I felt oddly pleased. “I’m flattered to hear it,” I said, and hustled off to start working.