Steve's wife, the amazing Sarah, sits to the side, saying the words along with him, wearing the headphones and watching on a monitor: "My father's death was an assassination, pure and simple. A killing meticulously planned, ruthlessly executed. From there, all we have to ask is who stands the most to gain." Nan's final word regards the Reverend's impressive ability to turn his grief over losing his father into yet more political grandstanding. Instead of addressing this salient point, he changes topic again: "It's a beautiful sunny morning in America, Miss Flanagan. I wish you were here." He gives a scary smile, but one neither as scary nor charming as hers: "Give me twelve hours, Reverend. I'll be right there." Nan Flanagan still gives me the pee shivers. "May His holy light shine upon you," Steve brightly says goodbye to the host, and they sign off.
Sarah takes off the cans and she's all over him: "You're so handsome. You're getting good at this!" It's only been what, a month since his parents and brother or sister died in Dallas? He nods, tiredly. "I have a long way to go. Any notes?" She tells him he sounds too much like a preacher, and he laughs, but she says she's thinking ahead: "You could be governor of Texas if you play your cards right." They laugh about how he had Nan "cornered" and how cool it would have been if her fangs had come out. Later on, at a book signing, Orry Dawson approaches with Jason in tow. They're attracted to him instantly, his poster boy looks and sick body and the light that, despite his best efforts and serious liabilities, shines out brighter than anything; they lean forward. But never so excited as when they hear his name, and place of origin. Sarah shows her teeth.
"Wait, Bon Temps? Weren't you the poor soul they were accusing of these terrible murders?" He was, but he was saved, and finally feels like God has a purpose for him, thanks to Orry's witness. Sarah says Steve is hers, and Steve says we all have one, and Jason attempts to speak, to make friends, to get closer to them. "I've been reading your father's book, and it's really making me, umm..." Find the word, Jason. "Think? About things?" Heh. That's my boy. Steve busts out how the "true message" is "love," despite those "liberal wingnuts" who point out that Newlin Sr.'s message of love sure is confusing amid all the spewing vitriol and hate.
Jason misses the finer points of this, but love sounds good. He indicates one of the many, many highlightered pages: "Well it's just like he says in the book, I'm coming from the darkness into the light." Orry shoots eyebrows at Steve about how enthusiastic Jason is, and his potential, and Steve takes his message. Orry was one of the Reverend's closest advisors, so it means a lot when he suggests Jason for the Light of Day Institute, a leadership conference in Texas that's mostly like a summer camp for lunatics. "Think of it as a springboard for fulfilling your destiny," Steve says, and it doesn't take too long to get to the point. This is a business. It's not about getting money from Jason, it's about using Jason to make money. And to kill, to create hatred, to put him forward as a true leader, as a man who's suffered from fangs and their hangers-on more than anything. Somewhere in there, it's about God. Basically.