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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter 9: To Vanceville

At around seven o'clock in the evening, Sam pulled up and parked his truck in Tara's driveway, a full hour before they were expected to arrive at the party in Vanceville. Tara on the onset was excited about going to this party, so, he was looking forward to taking her and having a good time. It was Tara's day off and and he hadn't seen her all day. He'd imagined she would've spent it running around doing last minute things. He left Merlotte's early. Terry agreed to lock up.

After turning off the ignition and engaging the emergency brake, Sam nervously grabbed up items that were laid out on the seat beside him. He checked himself out in the side mirror and ran his free hand through his new do. It was short all around except for the layered uneven bang in the front. He considered shaving, but Lafayette talked him into a goatee. This look is so not me, he thought as he straightened his tie in the mirror and wondered what Tara's reaction would be when she saw him. Sharply dressed in black shoes, black dress shirt, a modern and stylish dark gray pants and matching gray skinny tie. It hadn't occurred to him at the time, but he looked like he'd just stepped out of a GQ magazine.

Shifting away from the mirror, he slipped something into his back pocket. I hope she'll like it, he said to himself before he headed for the front door. Just as he was about to knock, Lettie Mae opened the door, no doubt she saw him driving in. It turned out that she was also on her way out. Nicely dressed in a burgundy dress and matching hat she greeted Sam with a huge smile.

"Sam Merlotte. Come on in. Take a load off."

"Evenin' Mrs. Thornton." Sam handed her a bouquet of flowers and gave her a peck on the cheek. Lettie's looked surprised. "Why, thank you, they are beautiful. I can't remember the last time a gentleman gave me flowers."

Lettie had little time to spare and so quickly ushered Sam into the living room and offered him a seat. In between getting him some iced tea and finding an empty vase, she mentioned going to a church dinner after going to a prayer group meeting. She filled the vase with water at the kitchen sink and carefully teased the flowers in then proudly displayed them on the coffee table in the living room.

"Forgive me, but I have to run. There's more ice tea in the fridge you can help yourself to. Tara! Sam's here. Bye Sam." Lettie then high-tailed it out of the house.

"Thanks for the tea Mrs. Thornton. Have a good evening." Sam wished her off as she let her self out.

He heard her car come alive and roar down the street. Getting up to put away the empty glass in the kitchen, he stopped to browse two bookcases under the picture window. A mixture of reading material lined the shelves. Mystery, spy and romance novels, biographies on Martin Luther King, Al Capone, The Kennedy's. There were at least five books about famous serial killers. WWII and Civil War history books as well as volumes of National Geographic magazines. Interesting. He picked up Dr. No, by Ian Flemming and began reading it.

"That's a good read." Tara said as she came up from behind him.

Sam turned around to face her. He dropped the book to the floor not because he was startled, because she looked absolutely stunning. Gone were the micro locks. Her hair was straight with its ends curled and hanging loosely about her smooth bare shoulders. The dress enhanced her dancer-like physique. The upper part of the strapless cocktail mini dress was royal blue with black and dark-gray small floral prints. The remainder of the dress was dark gray with soft gatherings in the hem line about six inches above her knees. A cute bow in the same color as the skirt decorated the waist band. The shoes she wore were black strappy high heels.

"Wow! You look beautiful...and your dress, I can't believe you made it. Looks like you got it from a high-end store." Sam couldn't stop staring, he thought she looked like a portrait, framed in gold. Tara curtsied.

"Thanks. But look at you! You look so … different." Tara thought, he looks fucking hot.

"Different? It's the hair and goatee right?"

"No, no, whoever worked on you did a real good job. I'm just glad you didn't get a Bieber" Tara chuckled while running the back of her hand on his chin.

"It's all Lafayette." Sam confessed.

"Why am I not surprised. Did he tell you he used to be a hair stylist?"

"Yeah, he did. He said he'd been dying to give me a makeover."

"Hey, I've got something for you." Sam added.

"Oh?" Tara wondered what it could be.

Pulling a black felt box from out of his back pocket, he opened it to reveal a sparkling pair of gold drop sapphire earrings. Tara gasped at the intricate design and polished blue gems. He gently took them out the box and one by one carefully glided them through her piercings and hooked them securely behind her cool lobes. She walked over to a mirror that was mounted on the wall and looked at herself, smiling silently. Sam stood behind her, pleased with the selection he'd made.

"Tara, what's wrong?" Sam asked when he noticed tears welling up in her eyes.

"Sapphire. I...I've never ...it's my favorite stone." Tara's eyes teared up as she looked at herself in the mirror. He gently patted just under her eyes with his white cotton handkerchief, making care not to ruin her makeup.

"Oh Sam, they're beautiful."

Sam held her face in both his hands, kissed her tenderly on the lips and said,

"Not as beautiful as the woman wearing them."


The drive to Vanceville was close to forty minutes. The time flew by quickly as they both chattered endlessly on the way. Tara updated Sam on her mother's efforts to fight her alcoholism, that she'd been clean for three months, got involved in church and started a new job too.

"Mama has even started cooking again." Tara happily declared.

"Tara, that's wonderful."

"Yeah, it's not the first time. She's done this before, lots of time" Tara's voice dropped.

"Oh?"

"What can I say, I'm just happy for her right now, that's all". Tara half-smiled and looked down at her clutch bag on her lap while nervously tugging at the ends of her shawl.

Sam now realized why Tara was so reluctant to leave home. Maybe she felt the need to stay by her mother when she was at her lowest, to protect her from becoming a harm to herself. Whenever she was sober, Tara no doubt wanted to be around to enjoy her for as long as possible. He couldn't imagine what it's like living with an alcoholic parent. Not liking where the conversation was heading, he switched topic.

"So, are you ready to 'drop foot'?"

"What? Is that a condition?" Tara chuckled mockingly.

"No Tara, it's not a condition. It's a Jamaican slang for 'dancing and having a good time'" Sam playfully chucked her.

Tara snickered and said, "Yeah, I'm ready to drop foot. The question is, are you ready to drop some serious foot?"












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.