Back to the Future Again: Chapter 4
My boobs bounced along for a few seconds and then the car stopped and I looked around. I was back in my yard in Bon Temps, and everything looked fairly normal. It was nighttime at least. I got out and looked up at the house. There were lights on upstairs and in the kitchen. I heard the back screen door slam shut and Jason emerged from the back of the house, grinning.
“What the fuck?”
“Hey, Jason. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? Are you kidding me? You just landed a Vette in the yard like a fucking spaceship and you want to know what I’m doing here?”
“I live here, bonehead.”
“Help me get this behind the tool shed and I’ll explain everything.”
We pushed the car to its hiding place and then Jason turned to me, ready for an explanation.
“Can you give me a ride into Shreveport? I can explain in the car.”
“Sure, let me get my keys and tell Tara where I’m going.”
My mouth fell open. Tara?
Jason met me behind the house and we climbed into a shiny new Mercedes that I’d never seen before. As we pulled onto Hummingbird Lane, I started to tell my story. He listened and gave me an occasional look, but didn’t say anything until I was finished. “I know that must all sound crazy to you, Jason, but trust me, it’s the truth.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Not much coming out of you surprises me anymore.”
“So, you want to explain to me why Tara was in my house back there?”
“Uh, that’s our house, Sookie. Me and Tara and the kids live there—have for years.”
“Then where do I live?”
“With Eric, in that big-ass fancy mansion in Shreveport.”
“Really? I have a feeling that some things may have changed, maybe because of the time travel. Maybe you’d better fill me in on what’s going on. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t take me to Hot Shot.”
“Hot Shot? What the fuck would I take you there for?”
“To fight some were war—you know because you’re a were panther.”
“Fuck, Sookie, those people are nasty out there. Were panther? You are nuts.”
“Okay, so you’re not a were…um…what are you?”
“The CEO of Stackhouse Shoes. Husband, father, brother to a nutjob.” He chuckled. “Were panther. That’s pretty funny.”
“Your shoe company.”
“I have a shoe company?”
“Yeah, you started it right out of high school. Said the design idea was buried in the yard by a flying handsome blond guy. We all thought you were a whack-job until we met Eric Northman—the flying guy you’d described to a tee all your life.
“None of this is ringing a bell for you?”
“No, but please go on.”
“With the first pile of money you made, you sent me to business school so I could help you run the company. That was right before me and Tara got married. It turned out that I wasn’t a dumb promiscuous jock like everyone expected me to be after all. Thanks to your faith in me and the proceeds from your ahead-of-its-time shoe design, we all discovered that I’m a genius in business and a faithful loving husband with no inclinations whatsoever to chasing loose panther-y chicks that might have trapped me into marriage with unplanned pregnancies. I’m a fine, upstanding citizen but still really, really handsome.”
“Huh. How about that.”
“Yeah, so anyway, Bill Compton and that Sophie-Anne bitch tried to take you to New Orleans, but you’d have none of that. Apparently, Hadley told them about your telepathy just before the queen turned her and declared her to be her true love and made her happy and certain of a bright future. You forgave Hadley, but told Bill Compton to kiss your telepathic ass. Even a smooth-talking vampire like Bill couldn’t get your knees apart. You’d always sworn you were saving yourself for the flying guy, and then I’ll be damned if he didn’t turn out to be Eric. As soon as you guys met, you were all lovey-dovey.”
“I met him at Fangtasia?”
“His vampire bar.”
“Oh you mean Ravenscroft’s House of Blood? It’s Eric’s bar, but I guess he let Pam name it.”
“Really. Well, that’s good.” (Although I really didn’t think she’d done much better.)
“Yeah, so even though he has that successful bar, he basically has kicked ass in the vamp political world with you at his side. Sophie-Anne married the king of Arkansas or Texas or something (but still loves Hadley and treats her great) and gave Louisiana to Eric.
“He and Pam basically run the state from that big old house in Shreveport where you guys live.”
“I didn’t date Bill?”
“Date Bill? Fuck no. You wouldn’t take any shit from any guy, Sookie. You always knew what you wanted and that was Eric Northman, your bonded. A zillion other guys asked you out, valuing you for your telepathy and brain and remarkably innovative ability to design shoes as well as your impressive rack, but you saved yourself for Eric.”
I hated to ask, but knew I had to. “And, Gran?”
“Oh, she died peacefully in her sleep at a ripe old age, but not before giving her blessings for you to be with Eric. When you told her you met him at Ravenscroft’s’ House of Blood, she went on and on about what a sweet girl that Pam Ravenscroft was and encouraged you to hang out at the bar all you wanted. We never could figure out where she would have met Pam though.” He shrugged his shoulders.
As we drove up the driveway in front of Eric’s house—I guess now my house, I asked Jason to go back and cover the Corvette with a tarp or something until we could figure out what to do with it. I thanked him for the ride and for filling me in on what was now apparently my life. He was surprisingly not very shocked at my story. I guess after hearing about my future shoe business and flying husband all his life, not much could surprise him anymore.
I walked up to the front door as Jason drove away and knocked. Eric opened the door. “Did you forget your keys, lover?”
“Kind of.” I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.
“So, you’re not mad anymore?”
“Was I mad?”
“Indulge me for a minute, okay? I’ve had a rough day. Why was I mad?”
“The usual reason. We had another fight about your being turned. Are you okay? You don’t remember?”
“No. Do you have a minute?”
Eric led me into the house which was decorated beautifully. I loved it, but apparently it was my house, so that made sense. He seemed concerned about me as we sat on the sofa. The painting above the mantel was a portrait of the two of us together. I started at the beginning and told him the whole story—about Pam coming to get me and my traveling to the future where he mourned my death, then about accidentally going back a little too far in time and screwing things up with the shoes, apparently changing my own future as well as everyone else’s. Eric listened intently, never interrupting me. When I was finished, he sat back and studied my face. “This must all be rather overwhelming for you, lover. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little tired. And hungry. And my boobs are a kinda sore. And, god, I’d love to wash my hands.”
“Do you want something to eat? I’ll call for some dinner for you.”
“Actually, no, I can wait. What I don’t want to wait about anymore is to tell you that I want to be turned.” His eyes glowed. “I’m not sure what to make of all this time travel stuff, but what I do know is that I don’t want you to pine away for me for eternity because some big bear’s butt smothered me. Or for any other reason, actually. I see now that we belong together, no matter what the circumstances. I love you, Eric, and I don’t want us to be apart.”
Eric touched my face. “My beautiful bonded. You have just made me the happiest man on earth. I have waited for many years to hear those words coming from your mouth. When will you honor me with your gift?”
We both smiled and clasped hands. I felt our hearts connect through the bond as I gave him my answer. “There’s no time like the present.” And then we rose to climb the stairs to face a future together—a future with no limits, no loneliness, and no fat-butted bear skin rugs.
As we neared our bedroom, Eric turned to me with a puzzled expression. “Lover, I said that you couldn’t take anything that hadn’t been invented yet back into the past, right?”
“And we think that the shoes that Pam sent back with you were the cause of the tear in the fabric of time?”
“So, if the shoes caused all these changes, what will happen now that there’s an uninvented time machine behind your brother’s tool shed right now?”
“Uh oh is right. Lover, it looks like you may have to go back to the future again.” Dang it. I hate it when he’s right.
[Cue the Huey Lewis music…]
A/N: Please enjoy the sequel, Back to the Past, next.