In the kitchen, Sookie asks Arlene to thank her boyfriend for helping her out. "I was so flustered I think I might have seemed ungrateful." (Please let me get my period tonight... Even though Rene wants one of his own... I sure don't want him to feel like he's being forced into...) Sookie grabs Arlene, throwing her arms around her without a second thought. "Did you just read my mind?" Arlene asks, pushing her away. Sookie apologizes and explains she's off her game tonight. "My private thoughts are none of your business!" She runs away, and Sam appears, calling Sookie into his office.
"I swear I try not to listen, but I can't always keep my guard up..." Sam asks her if it's true, and she can't hear Bill at all. She gives a tiny nod, and he smiles for her. "God, that's... I mean, that must be very relaxing for you. You know, not having to work so hard not to hear." He's so sweet; she nods at him. He gets it. He smiles and asks if she can hear him; she'd die before admitting she already has, and recoiled from him. The way he smelled her, the strength of his love. There's a picture on the wall between them, a painting, but it's out of focus. "I don't want to hear you," she grins coyly. "I'd have to quit if I read your mind, and I like it here." He promises she wouldn't, but she shakes her head. "I've had to leave every job I've ever had because I could hear my boss' thoughts." Inexpertly, pushing her -- What's the use of having the power to have conversations without saying anything, if not to get past the scary parts? The terror of intimacy is trust, but without the ability to lie there's no fear in trust -- "You might be surprised by what you find." She tries to be smooth, too. "Not all surprises are good," she says, closing the book on it, but he's not done: "Try sometime!" The mysterious painting throbs behind her, on the wall. She smiles at him, he wants her to... Finally he taps her knee, breaking the spell. "Now listen, don't you worry. You got a job here as long as you want one." She smiles at him; the presence of his feelings for her fill the room. "I should get back to work." She hops up, and the picture on the wall finally comes into focus, a fairytale image: the wakeful collie, watching over the sleeping girl. The beautiful and the faithful, together forever. We all just want to be seen. To matter. She leaves and he puts embarrassed head into useless hands. "Come! On!"
She scoots past the kitchen; Lafayette calls out to her. "Baby girl, don't even let that get you down!" She's still unsure about Lafayette; he's Tara's cousin and her coworker, but he says things that are true and crude and frightening. He's a guide but she can't see that yet, because he's a guide to a world she's spent her life ignoring. "Don't let what get me down?" Why fall in love with a dead man unless you're afraid of the living? And there's nobody more living than Lafayette; he lives more lives than most of us ever will. "Don't let nothing get you down," he says, fanning himself. "It's the only way to live," he says, kicking one ironic, parodic heel in the air, Prior Walter for a moment and someone else the next. There's such ill-earned wisdom, such lofty sadness in this latest truth. He knows; the encyclopedia of things that don't get him down, half the things in it she can't even spell yet. Sookie leaves, not entirely convinced yet about Lafayette's awesomeness. But just like Sam, and the dog, and now Bill, just like Tara and Gran and Jason, he'll be there the moment that she needs him. That's how guides work. "Ain't that right, Big John?" You actually get a glimpse of the inordinately agreeable Big John for a second, running something to the stove: "Right."