"You're not a Jesus person, are you?" Maryann laughs, and I am not being hyperactive when I say it is a Dark Knight-level laugh. My favorite part in that movie is when a certain person sits at the bedside of another person to whom he has just done some terrible, life-altering things, and when the person wakes up this person goes, "...Hi." It's maybe my favorite moment in the entire movie, followed closely by Maryann's laughter here: first a startled "No! Ha!" and then a slightly more introspective, darkly musing exhalation toward the floor: "Nnnnnooooooo." She assures Tara she has nothing against religion, which is like your acid dealer saying he's got nothing against Payless Shoes, or your plumber saying he's not a huge fan of the Red Sox, and then stands up and hands over her business card and fusses with her purse long enough for Tara to swallow her pride and agree to go.
Outside, Maryann's red sports car causes another tiny meltdown, but Maryann assures her it was a gift, a tribute, a way of repaying doing something or not doing something. Tara hesitates getting in because it's so shiny and she's so dirty, and Maryann fairly winks: "Oh, don't worry about that. I get dirty too!" Andy, having just arrived with Jason in tow, screams at her to move the car, and she's almost unbearably scary, smiling easily at him and summoning up his name: "Detective... Bellefleur, is it?" She points at him like he's going in Pam's vault, and as he mumbles and bitches to himself she hops in the car beside Tara and they take off, just a second too late to see Jason Stackhouse heading into a madness of his own.
A movie about breakfast, daylight on a farm, the cock crowing; Sookie's close to Sam on the couch. She realizes that, weird as it sounds, she had fun today. "Well, that says something for us," Sam laughs, agreeing: "We can enjoy ourselves even when we're trying to find a murderer." Sookie laughs, but she's always thought he was fun; it's one of the reasons she's stayed working with him so long. He gets shy and she laughs at him. "Well, it's not the tips or the high-class clientele!" she says, and Sam changes gears: "You know, it was probably the best day of my life when you walked in looking for a job." She absentmindedly tells him to quit, but her eyes are elsewhere.
Lingering on sunrise, boys that don't leave, secrets that make men even more special, choices you can make, any bed in the house you can sleep in, boys that keep you safe and boys that promise to keep you safe and then can't stop leaving. This trip to Bunkie, the day before -- everything after Bill left, again -- she spent pretending, trying on this life for size. Could you do this? Eat breakfast in Adele's house, Adele's recipes, with a beautiful uncomplicated man helping you solve crimes and adoring you every day? A man who wouldn't take away the sun, who could ride all the way to the coast with his head in the wind, and then bake in the sun, who loves your scent more than any other, who doesn't lead you into the dark places, who doesn't have to sink his teeth into your throat in order to come?