Arlene hurried over to the bar. Sweat stained the armpits of her white Merlotte's t-shirt and her once perfectly coiffed fire-red hair was matted to her forehead. "Sam, table three is still waiting on two Michelobs and a basket of chili fries," she said in a rush. "And table five needs a refill."

"Coming right up." Sam grabbed two beer bottles from the cooler underneath the bar and set them on the counter in front of Arlene. "How's that order of chili fries coming along, Lafayette?" he hollered back to the kitchen while pouring a pitcher of beer from the tap.

Lafayette poked his head out the server window. "Tell Miss Thang to keep her britches on. Order'll be up in two shakes, baby."

Arlene leaned against the bar, fanning herself. "Jesus, it's so hot I swear I saw the Devil drinking a beer with Jane Bodehouse."

Sam smirked. "Nah, that's just Mike Spencer in a red Hawiian shirt."

She leaned closer. "You heard anything from Sookie, yet?" she asked, pushing a wayward strand of hair from her overly made-up face.

"Nope. Far as I know she's still down in Mississippi looking for Bill."

Arlene shook her head in disapproval. "I swear that girl has more drama than the Parish community theater."

Sam placed the pitcher of beer on Arlene's tray and gave her a leveled look. "I think just about everybody in Bon Temps has gotten into some form of trouble now and then."

"True, but Sookie's troubles have more to do with vampires than anything else. I ain't got nothing against Bill Compton, but everybody knows if you hang with vampires you're just beating on trouble's door begging to be let in. If you ask me, most of 'em are just a bunch of blood-thirsty killers."

Like your ex, Rene Leiner? he thought snidely. Sam had his own opinions about vampires, but didn't care to share them with Arlene. He suspected that she was a closet racist and wondered what her opinion would be if she knew about his secret life as a shifter. Would she judge him just as harshly?

"Order up," Lafayette called from the window. Arlene picked up her tray and went to get the rest of her order while Sam finished making drinks for Rachelle, the cute new waitress he hired last week.

He thought it ironic that the two women he cared about the most were both unreachable, one physically, the other emotionally. Sookie was off on some wild goose chase looking for Bill, who was most likely dead —well finally dead this time. Sam hadn't heard from Tara in three days, not since the night she spent at his trailer. He told her to take all the time she needed to grieve, but would it kill her to pick up a phone to say she was alright? Maybe Lafayette could divulge some news on his cousin's whereabouts.

Sam walked over to the service window and peered inside. Lafayette was busy dropping another tray of fries in the deep fryer.

"Hey, Lafayette, you talk to Tara?"

"Not lately," he said, picking up a spatula to flip the burgers on the grill. "Last time I saw her she was in pretty bad shape."

Sam's eyebrows rose with alarm. "What do mean by bad shape?"

"That poor child was a hot, pitiful mess, boo-hooing and blubbering all over the place. When she wasn't crying, she was staring off into space like a zombie. The shit was fucking pathetic, Sam."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep, but if you ask me, Eggs wasn't worth a squirt of piss, let alone Tara's tears. I warned her the motherfucker was poison hiding behind a pretty face. Satan in a beautiful Sunday hat. But you know my cousin; you can't tell that heifer nothing. Some women are doomed to always pick the wrong man."

Sam nervously looked away, clearing his throat. "Uh-maybe I should check on her. You know, as her boss I should make sure she's okay."

Lafayette's heavily made up eyes shifted towards the entrance. "Maybe you won't have to."

Sam turned to see what had caught his cook's attention.

Tara was standing by the door, a stern look on her angular face. Despite her solemn expression, she looked good. Damn good, Sam thought. Her long braids were tied back into a thick ponytail. She was wearing slim-fitted jean shorts that stopped at mid-thigh with a purple tank that showed off her smooth mocha skin and toned arms.

Sam couldn't help feeling a sense of relief as he walked towards her.

"Hey Tara, good to see ya." He tried to sound casual. Part of him wanted to lift her off the floor in a bear hug like he hadn't seen her in months.

"I came by to see if you can put me back on the schedule," she said without preamble.

"It's only been three days."

She glanced around the bar pointedly. It was lunchtime, so Merlotte's was packed.

"Are you saying you don't need my help?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"Of course not. I like having you with me-uh-at work, but don't you think this is a little too soon after…" His voice trailed off when he saw the hurt look in her onyx eyes.

"I need something to do Sam," she admitted. "Sookie's not back yet and it feels weird being in her house all by myself now that Eggs and Maryann are gone. It's like the fucking walls are talking to me. I'm worried I might start answering 'em back."

Sam regarded her with sympathy.

"So I'm ready to come back to work. How soon can you put me on the schedule?"

"I can schedule you for tomorrow's dayshift."

"Good." With that business settled, she turned to leave.

Sam stared after her, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He wasn't ready to see her go. "Tara," he said.

She looked back expectantly. "Yeah?"

"If there's anything you need or if you just feel like talking, cher, I'm here as a…a friend."

A small grin teased the edges of her lips. "Thanks, Sam."

They exchanged a meaningful look. Her shy grin turned into a full on smile. Sam felt his own lips curving upward. He was seeing a hint of the old Tara and wished he could make her smile like that every day.

Just then Detective Andy Bellefleur and Jason Stackhouse entered the bar. Sam noticed the sudden change in Tara's expression. Her bright smile quickly morphed into a menacing scowl. If she was a cat, her claws and teeth would be showing and the hairs on her back would be standing on end.

Uh-oh! This could turn bad really fast, he thought.

The two men glanced towards Tara then anxiously back at each other.

Sam took a step forward, hoping for once Tara would keep her mouth shut and not do something they'd both regret.

Sam gave them a friendly nod and said, "Hi, Andy. Jason."

Andy returned his greeting. "Sam," he acknowledged.

Jason Stackhouse kept his eyes lowered to the ground refusing to meet Sam's gaze. "Hi, Sam," he said in a meek voice.

Sam frowned. This was not the same man who two weeks ago was ready to take on a whole town full of possessed residents and do battle with an evil maenad. And since when did he and Andy get so tight? He'd have to mull that over later.

Andy threw a hesitant look in Tara's direction. "How you doing, Tara?" he asked, his voice deep and full of pity.

"How the fuck you think I'm doing Andy, especially after you killed my man or did you forget that?" she snapped.

Andy's eyes widened in shock. His face flushed a deep red. Jason actually flinched as if she just struck him with her fist.

Sam swung around to face her. Tara!" he admonished, giving her a warning look. Her jaw flexed and she glared back at him in defiance.

"Go now," he said sternly, his voice brokering no argument. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

She looked as though she wanted to protest, but thought better of it. "Fine," she said, throwing daggers in Andy's direction. She mumbled several expletives while brusquely walking past the three men, almost bumping Sam in the process. Before walking out the door, she looked directly at Andy.

If looks could kill, the detective would be a chalk outline on Merlotte's floor.

The men stared awkwardly at each other, not knowing what to say or do after facing Tara's furious outburst. For Sam, seeing Tara angry was nothing new, but he'd never seen such pure hatred in her eyes before.

"Sorry about that, Andy," Sam said.

"I see she hasn't quite gotten over what happened yet," Andy said, grimacing.

Sam looked towards the door Tara had just exited. "That's an understatement. She's been having a real hard time."

"I don't blame her," added Jason, his face forlorn with remorse.

Sam was ready to change the subject. "Let me get ya'll a beer. They're on the house," he said, thinking free beers might smooth things over.

Those were magic words to Jason. He immediately perked up and followed Sam to the bar.

"None for me," Andy said, taking the stool next to Jason. "I'm still on duty."

Sam poured Jason a beer and handed Andy a diet Coke. He went about the rest of his day doing his usual tasks, tending the bar and collecting cash. The whole time his mind kept going back to Tara, hoping she was okay. He wondered if she'd ever get over Eggs and be ready to move on. And if she did, would Tara want to move on with him?