My cousin and my great-uncle had decided to stay at Claude’s house in Monroe while I was gone. Claude had been living with me for about a month, and Dermot had joined him only two weeks ago, so Dermot said he still felt funny being in my house without me there. Claude, of course, had no such qualms, since he’s about as sensitive as a sheet of sandpaper, but Dermot had carried the day.

All my clothes were clean, and I thought I was packed. Though it would be a good idea to review my packing list, which was completely separate from my “things to do” list. Since my friend and boss, Sam Merlotte, had invited me to go with him to his brother’s wedding, I’d been in a nervous tizzy about forgetting something essential and somehow making Sam look bad in front of his family.

I had borrowed a pretty dress, sleeveless and blue, like my eyes, to wear to the wedding, and I had some black pumps with three-inch heels that were in great condition. For everything else, I packed the best and newest of my casual clothes: two pairs of good shorts, an extra pair of jeans. I threw in a yellow and gray skirt outfit, just in case.

I counted my underwear, made sure I had the right bras, and checked the little jewelry pouch to be sure my gran’s pearls were there. I shut the bag, triumphant. I’d done my best to cover every contingency, and I’d fit everything into a hanging bag and a weekender bag.

Just as I reopened the bag to make sure I’d included my blow-dryer, I heard Sam’s truck coming up the driveway that wound through the woods. In thirty seconds I pulled on my khaki shorts and a very thin white tank top with a teal tank layered over it. I had a little gold chain on, and I slid my feet into my new sandals. My toenails were a happy pink (“Run Run Rosy”). I felt great. I hurried to the front door and opened it just as Sam was about to knock.

He was wearing his usual jeans and Merlotte’s Bar and Grill T-shirt, but he was sporting ancient cowboy boots. Yep, we were going to Texas, all right. His red gold hair was shorter these days, and I could tell he’d taken special care shaving.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” he said. “I had to give Kennedy and Terry some extra instructions.” The two substitute bartenders were going to be in charge while Sam was gone, and Sam was pretty nervous about it.

“No problem. I’m ready.” He picked up my overnighter while I got my hanging bag and locked the door behind me. Luckily, Sam’s pickup had an extended cab, and we were able to put our clothes on the backseat.