DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.
Whew! This took forever! Next chapter will have the end of the NY episode and the Glee club will be back at McKinley! I'm so excited! Happy reading!
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Lima Allen County Airport
Lima, Ohio
9:22AM
Sam wouldn't say it out loud but he was happy that they were back in Lima. It probably had something to do with the fact that he hated airplanes and he hadn't been able to sit next to Mercedes on this flight. He was also affected by the stony silence between the members of the group. Their little section of the plane had been drop-dead silent the whole flight.
Santana kept shooting daggers at Rachel with her eyeballs. Rachel looked like she was going to burst into tears every three seconds. Finn had been trying to make himself invisible in his seat next to Mercedes.
It was not a fun experience.
Sam slowly walked down the aisle—a few people in front of Mercedes—as the plane emptied. He briefly paused to ask about his gate checked bag, and the flight attendant told him to wait in the stretch of hallway past the gate door.
When he exited the plane and stepped to the side of the procession of people walking out—Sam looked at the worker in the orange vest standing there.
"Will my bag be out soon?" he asked politely, but he wanted to get the hell out of there.
The airport worker gave him an apologetic look. "It'll be a few minutes, sir. They're having a bit of trouble with the belts for baggage claim. So they're waiting on opening the luggage hatch until they get that sorted out. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
Sam let out a sigh and shook his head. "Not your fault, but thanks for letting me know."
He dropped his backpack onto the ground at his feet and slumped against the wall—might as well get comfortable during the wait.
It was only when he scrubbed a hand across his face that he noticed Mercedes standing there.
"Cede?" he inquired, "What are you still doing here?"
She stepped closer to him—dodging the last couple of stragglers exiting the plane.
"I saw that you weren't with us before I walked out of the gate doors," she admitted. Sam smiled at her as she moved closer—standing less than a foot away. "Is everything okay? Where's your bag?"
Her concern was endearing. Or maybe he was just a sap whenever it came to her. He didn't really care either way. "My bag is still in the luggage hatch," Sam told her, "They're having some trouble with baggage claim stuff so they're holding off unloading anything until they get the situation sorted out."
Sam glanced around him. There were at least eight other people there, but they looked significantly more annoyed with the delay than Sam did. One woman was harassing the poor airport worker—he was trying his best to calm her down, but it was clear that the guy had no idea what to really say.
It pissed him off to see adults being so inconsiderate and selfish. He had always been taught to be polite, because you never knew what your kindness could do for a person. Other than the bitchy middle-aged woman tearing into the airport worker, there were some random passengers and their children—he didn't see any other glee club members.
"Is everyone else gone?" he asked.
Mercedes raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you really think any of them would stick around?" she replied, "I felt like I was in the middle of the cold war during that whole plane ride. Every time something made a noise—I ducked."
Sam laughed at that. "What? Did you expect biological warfare to be unleashed?"
"No!" Mercedes groused and Sam laughed again. "But Satan looked incredibly pissed—I didn't trust her not to throw anything."
"The only things that she could've thrown were food," Sam replied, "You were afraid of a twinkie and a bag of chips?"
Sam clearly remembered the Latina ordering—Santana had sounded angry and the flight attendant had been clearly intimidated.
Mercedes hit him on the arm for that joke—causing him to laugh.
"It's not funny!" she protested. "Why don't you try sitting next to Finn when he's trying to hide in his seat, but can't because he's too tall. He kept begging me to protect him."
Sam had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop from laughing. Mercedes looked like she wanted to smack him again.
"I'm sorry for your plight, Cede," Sam told her. "Protecting a giant and hiding from junk-food-weaponry must have been terrifying."
Mercedes used both hands to smack him this time. Sam scooted away from her—laughing.
"Abuse!" he called.
"Damn straight," Mercedes said as she hit him again. Sam chuckled, before he caught her hands with his. Mercedes wasn't giving up that easily though. She twisted and fidgeted in his grip and the two of them ended up play fighting right there against the wall. Sam eventually trapped her against his chest and tickled her sides.
Mercedes burst out laughing immediately and squirmed around in his embrace—trying her best to get away from his wiggling fingers.
"You give?" he asked in her ear.
"No!" she cried, "Sam Evans, you better stop!" She was giggling the whole time though and Sam couldn't help grinning. She let out a snort when he hit a particularly sensitive spot and Sam laughed.
Mercedes blushed furiously.
"You give?" he asked again.
"Fine, yes," she choked out between laughs. Despite wanting to keep her squirming body close, Sam released her. She leapt away from him like her pants were on fire.
Sam chuckled as she gasped to catch her breath.
"I'm going to get you back for this, Blondie," she told him with a shake of her fist in his direction. Sam leaned his shoulder against the wall and smirked in her direction.
"I'm looking forward to it," he replied.
When Mercedes calmed down again, she moved closer warily. And when Sam stretched a hand out to her—she froze and eyed him suspiciously.
"You're not going to tickle me again, are you?" she asked.
Sam smiled and said, "No, I'm not."
She still looked a bit hesitant. "You promise?"
Sam laughed. "I promise I won't tickle you."
She waited a couple more seconds, but she eventually grasped his offered hand. Sam entwined their fingers and tugged her just a little bit closer. Mercedes brushed a hand through his hair—it had apparently gotten mussed during their play fight. He closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of her warm fingers combing through his hair. He missed her hand when it disappeared after she was done.
"Do you want me to wait with you?" she asked quietly.
Sam glanced at his watch—noticing that it was almost 9:30 in the morning. He might be here for awhile and he didn't want to keep her from her family. "As much as I'd like that—I know your mother is probably wondering where you are."
"And your family isn't?" she teased.
"Good point, but I think I'll be alright," he replied, "It shouldn't take too much longer, I hope."
Mercedes gave him a soft smile. "Okay," she responded, "I guess I'll head out." Sam squeezed her fingers within his.
"Text me when you get home?" Sam asked and Mercedes smiled up at him. Her brown eyes were dancing under the fluorescent lighting and Sam fell for her all over again. She was wearing this sleeveless denim blue dress that fell a little above her knees and a pair of tan wedge heels. Her hair was down in soft waves and she had a sparkly head band in her hair.
"Sure thing," she replied, before she stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sam thought this was his favorite kiss ever. It was the first one that Mercedes had ever initiated. And he couldn't help but beam at her when she pulled away a couple of seconds later.
He also couldn't resist pulling her to him and kissing her again for a longer, but just as tender moment. She grinned up at him shyly when he pulled away.
"Bye Blondie," she told him.
"See you later, Nala," he whispered as he squeezed her fingers before letting her go. Sam watched her walk away from him with a smile on his face so big that it made his cheeks hurt. He didn't notice that everyone else in the hallway had been watching him and Mercedes interact with amused smiles on their faces.
Sam was trapped in his thoughts until about ten minutes later—when their bags were finally brought to the gate. He grabbed his duffel bag and hauled ass out of the gate door.
He couldn't wait to see his family.
As soon as Sam speed walked from the escalator drop off and around the corner into the main lobby—he heard a loud cry of "SAMMY!" He would recognize Stacey's voice anywhere.
The smile that stretched across his face was huge. And he turned around just in time to see a streak of blonde fly towards him. Sam dropped the duffel bag that he'd waited almost twenty minutes for on the ground—before he knelt down and opened his arms for Stacey to crash into.
She collided with his chest with enough force to potentially knock him over, but Sam balanced and then stood up—spinning him and the small child in a circle. She was wrapped around him like a tentacle—her legs around his waist and her arms fastened around his neck.
He held her close and kissed the side of her head. "Hey sunshine," he greeted. The beaming smile she shot him warmed his heart. Yeah, he had definitely missed them.
His attention was drawn away from Stacey when Stevie buried his face in his shirt and threw both of his arms around Sam's waist.
"Superman," he laughed as he dropped his free hand atop Stevie's fine blond locks. He couldn't contain his smile if he'd tried. "How are you guys?" he asked as he ran his fingers through his little brother's hair before wrapping an arm around the kid's shoulders and hugging him to his side.
"I missed you," Stacey told him before she placed her head on his shoulder. "Lynn taught me how to knit! I have a surprise for you when we get home."
Sam grinned at her. "Can't wait, kiddo," he said brightly. The bright expression in his sister's eyes cheered him even further.
"I have to show you the game Lynn bought me last week!" Stevie said—his blue eyes staring up at Sam. Even though he didn't say it—Sam could see how much Stevie had missed him in those eyes of his. His little brother was something else, but he could understand not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone else. Stevie was so much like him that it was a bit disconcerting at times.
He stood there with both of his siblings physically attached to him in some way for almost five minutes—just listening to the two of them chatter. It was only when his dad dropped a hand on his shoulder that Sam paid attention to anything else.
"Hey muffin head," Jeff said, "It's good to see you alive and well." And Sam knew that his father meant it—exactly the way he'd said it. He instantly recognized the careful eye that ran over him to make sure there were no unusual markings or bruises on him. His dad did the same thing every time Sam left for longer than a day.
That protective gene must run in the family, because Sam did the same for Stevie and Stacey.
Stacey reluctantly dropped from his hip and slid to the floor. Stevie let go of Sam's waist and stepped away. And Sam was instantly pulled into a hug by his dad. He huffed out a laugh, but he embraced his father back.
Sam pretended like he didn't notice the watery eyes that peered back at him when his dad finally let go. "You alright, kid?" Jeff asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah dad; I'm alright."
That seemed to be enough for his father. Sam glanced around—expecting to see Lynn, but he was surprised to find that she wasn't there.
"Where's Lynn?" he questioned and Jeff smiled.
"At home," his dad replied, "Crazy woman insisted on staying home and making breakfast. She said that 'He'll be hungry when he gets home, Jeffrey. And I know you—you'll act like a starving whale if you're not fed within two hours of waking up in the morning.'" Jeff used a ridiculously high falsetto to imitate Lynn—it sounded nothing like her which made it even more amusing.
Sam couldn't help but laugh, because despite the disgruntled expression on his dad's face—they both knew it was true. Nothing got between Jeff Evans and his food. Sam could see the fond amusement sparkling in his dad's eyes. Lynn had them all pegged. And the bickering she and his dad could do every morning was beyond hilarious.
Mercedes got a kick out of listening to his stories about them when he recounted the events at school.
"Well, I am hungry," Sam told him and Jeff grinned as he clapped him on the shoulder.
"Then let's get home," Jeff responded as Sam hefted his duffle bag off the ground. Jeff extended his hands to the twins—and the two immediately grabbed one each. Sam followed as they began making their way out of the airport. His phone vibrated just as they walked through the automatic sliding doors.
He dug it out of the pocket of his jeans and saw that it was a text from Mercedes. He would never live it down if anyone saw what he had her under in his phone. Mercy-Mine was a nickname that he only called her in his head—and even then rarely. He had debated between Nala and Mercy-Mine, but eventually Mercy-Mine had won in the end.
Nala was a name only he called her and he wanted no one else to know it but them. It was theirs through and through. And he wanted it to stay that way.
Sam grinned at the picture of them he had made his phone background.
It was from their first date—at High Line Park—Mercedes was standing behind him; her head peering around his right shoulder and she was smiling brightly up at him and he was giving her this amused grin back in return. He loved that picture. It was just so random and silly—and so them.
He felt like it captured the essence of their relationship. Neither of them had to be more than they were. There was no pressure. It was just them. He shook off the sappiness of the memories and opened the text message.
It read,
Sorry we missed you! We had to hustle if we wanted to get to church on time. Mom and Dad say hi though. I'll call you later, Blondie. 3.
Sam smiled and waited until he'd tossed his duffel into the back of his truck to reply.
Don't worry about it, beautiful! Have a good Sunday. :)
He had just buckled in the passenger seat of the truck when his phone vibrated again. His dad started the truck and pulled out of the parking space as Sam read her response.
Beautiful? I could get used to being called that, Mr. Evans.
He grinned at that. He would make sure that she would get used to being called beautiful. No one deserved it more than she did. He was baffled by how no one had noticed how amazing she was before now. Before he could censor himself, Sam typed out a quick reply.
I call it like I see it, Ms. Jones. ;)
He waited eagerly for her response and he wasn't disappointed when less than a minute later; his phone vibrated in his hand.
Boy, you're too much, you know that?
Sam could picture her cheeks warming and her rolling her eyes in fond exasperation. He briefly wondered how she was getting away with this in the middle of church before Sam texted her back.
Of course! I have to be something special if you're dating me.
When he got her response—he couldn't help but chuckle. She was so modest, but at least she wasn't shutting him down.
I swear, you're going to make me grow a complex.
Sam debated what he should send her, and he finally decided on a flirtatious joke. He liked flirting with Mercedes—she didn't respond the way most girls did. She actually understood most of his innuendos and comparisons. He told her,
You shouldn't swear in church. That's against the rules.
The reply was teasing and Sam almost crowed in amusement. He never did this kind of thing with any of his past girlfriends. Mercedes said,
Blondie, I don't think I'm going to get smote for saying, "I swear."
Sam was opening a new message to reply before he even finished laughing. He had sent it without considering whether or not Mercedes would understand the reference or not.
You never know. Dean Winchester is positive that all angels are dicks.
Her response was immediate and Sam should've known better than to doubt Mercedes' knowledge of all things science fiction. They had very similar tastes—but very different personalities. It made him like her even more. Sam hadn't even thought that was possible.
Her text read,
Dean Winchester is positive that most supernatural beings are dicks. Your argument is invalid.
Sam was smiling so hard that he was developing a cheek cramp. The pride he felt at the moment was practically bursting out of his chest as he texted her back.
Haha. You are totally a sci-fi nerd! My girlfriend is better than any other girlfriend.
Mercedes' two word response had him chuckling again.
Damn straight.
Sam wasn't oblivious to the curious look his father was giving him out of the corner of his eye, but he was far too invested in replying to Mercedes to really care.
Now, you're definitely going to get smote. You cursed in church.
Mercedes replied and he could almost envision her teasing smirk as he read her reply.
Text-cursing doesn't count.
Sam's lips quirked in sarcastic amusement as he typed out a response and then sent it to her.
I'm not trusting that one. I might have to salt your ass whenever I see you again.
It took her a few seconds to reply, but she did and there was no way Sam could stop the laugh that bubbled out of him.
Do that and I'll introduce you to my iron fist.
He sent her a quick text in reply—still fighting to control his amusement. Jeff was looking askance in his direction and Sam avoided his gaze at all cost.
LOL. My dad has to think I'm crazy. You have me grinning like an idiot over here.
It took a minute or two for Mercedes to respond this time, but what she had to say made him laugh again.
Haha. I'm texting you from behind my bible. I definitely look like I'm heavily in the spirit.
He responded jokingly. This was way too fun.
We're going to hell, aren't we?
Mercedes' answer was just as funny as the one before it. God help him, but he liked this girl.
Nope, just you. You lured me into temptation with your manly wiles.
Sam replied quickly.
What can I say? I've got game.
When he read her text, Sam could picture her snickering behind her bible. It made the smile on his face widen even more—if that was possible.
Hahahaha. More like no game.
He texted her,
I got you didn't I?
It took Mercedes another minute to respond.
Good point. Lol. I really need to go.
Sam replied as fast as possible. He only considered how needy it sounded after he'd pressed send.
You still gonna call me later?
But Mercedes didn't seem to see it that way, because she responded within seconds.
Definitely. :) Bye Sam.
His last text to her was short, but he could wait to talk to her again. That phone call wouldn't come quickly enough.
Bye Cede.
Sam had never wanted to kiss her more than he did at that moment. He smiled softly as he put the phone down in his lap. The picture of him and Mercedes had his thoughts running rampant in his mind
"Interesting conversation, Sam?" his dad asked in amusement. Sam's gaze snapped to his father—a blush heating up his face. But despite his embarrassment—Sam couldn't stop grinning.
"Very interesting conversation, dad," he replied before he shoved his phone into his pocket and leaned against the truck door. Jeff eyed him when they reached the stop light.
"Will your dear old man be enlightened as to who you're having very interesting conversations with?" Jeff asked—his voice mostly teasing, but there was quite a lot of curiosity too.
"I'll think about it," Sam replied. He was serious. He would think about it—he just didn't mention that he already knew that he wanted his dad to know, but he wanted to talk to Mercedes before he told anyone else about the change in their relationship.
Jeff laughed a bit. "Alright," he said, "Well whenever you want to come clean—you know where to find me."
Sam smiled to himself. "I'll keep that in mind."
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Lynn's House
Lima, Ohio
10:01 AM
Lynn had pretty much convinced herself that she was being an idiot in the short amount of time between Jeff and the kids leaving to go to the airport and now. As she used her spatula to flip the turkey bacon on its side, her thoughts were stuck on Jeffrey.
Specifically his warm hands with their callused fingers and how he had smelt of slight spice mixed with a soft, earthy scent that drove her crazy. Last night had been amazing. He was goofy, but intelligent and even though they shared a lot of common interests—they were so different.
Lynn blushed as she flipped over some more pieces of bacon. His hands on her waist and how they pretty much engulfed her small hands when he'd twirled her around—it had felt so magical, so unreal that Lynn thought she'd dreamed it at first.
But then she felt the ache in her feet from standing in heels for so long and the remains of her makeup smeared on her face—she had been so tired that she just kicked off her shoes, shucked off her dress and passed out the minute they'd returned home.
Jeffrey was amazing—attractive, genuine, smart, and kind, and was Lynn developing a crush on her friend? She hadn't had a crush in years. And Davis, the bastard, had been her first everything. First crush, first boyfriend, first date, first kiss—first time; he'd literally been her introduction and conclusion to the dating world.
She hadn't so much as kissed another man since her divorce and the idea of getting involved with such a wonderful man and screwing it up due to inexperience was humiliating and terrifying.
And what was she thinking anyway? What if Jeff didn't even like her that way?
Lynn was snapped out of her thoughts as the sizzling bacon popped loudly, and she pulled away with a sharp hiss of pain.
Lynn pulled the skillet off the heat and switched it off, before she hurried over to the sink and doused her hand in cold water. The sting made her wince, but she ignored it in favor of cursing her distraction in her head.
Her heart felt like it was in her toes. Jeff would never want to be with her—she was a klutz, and a mother of two children who hated her. How he could even possibly be attracted to her she didn't even know. She was too thin and she always looked tired. She'd cried on him more than once and she was a general mess.
Her heart carried the weight of her whole world—he could never love someone with that much baggage. The thought stung a lot more than she'd thought it would. In such a short time, Jeff had come in and changed her—without even trying.
Lynn considered how incredible it would be if they could get past all her baggage, but there was still the fact that he was married; he and his wife hated each other and were separated, but they were legally married and she would never be the other woman.
Lynn knew firsthand how painful that was. And even if he did get divorced, Lynn didn't know how to fall in love. She couldn't even say that she had been in love with Davis when they got married. He had just been safe—everything she had known and she thought that that was love.
Lynn pulled her hand out of the cold water and examined her fingers. There were only a couple of blisters developing from contact with the hot grease—it could've been much worse. She started plating the food, before she thought something that made her almost drop the bowl of fruit she'd chopped up and refrigerated last night.
Oh, sweet Jesus, what about sex? She hadn't had sex in what—nine years? Anything she did would be like returning to virginal status. She didn't even know if she and Davis had had good sex, anyway. She'd researched online what generally felt good, but Davis had never lasted too long—and Lynn didn't think she'd had an orgasm more than a few times during their whole marriage.
Her face felt hot. Maybe she hadn't been sexy enough? Did she even know how to be sexy? Was there like a guide book for sex that she could read?
Lynn started feeling tingly all over at the thought of Jeff—in all his attractive glory—being with her in that way and how gentle he would be. But she shook those thoughts away as she finished putting food on all of the plates. Lynn managed to not think about it as she set the table and started cleaning up the kitchen.
Jeff was out of her league by light years. She and Jeff—they had no chance. And the crushing feeling that accompanied that realization made her heart break.
Her eyes were on the verge of watering when she heard the front door clang open. Lynn forcibly pulled herself together and placed the last washed dish into the dishwasher. She heard Stacey's sweet voice and Stevie's laughter. Jeff was saying something to the kids and Sam was laughing.
She washed her hands quickly—only wincing once when she rubbed a blister too hard. She had just dropped the towel to dry her hands when she was swept into a bear hug from behind.
Lynn let out a startled gasp and a laugh as Sam twirled her around in a circle. "Samuel Evans! You put me down right now young man."
Sam chuckled as he set her down on her feet and Lynn turned to smile at him. He looked ecstatic—his blond hair fell across his forehead and his green eyes sparkled.
"Hey darlin'," she greeted, but she was pulled into another hug by the tall teen. Lynn laughed again as he hugged her tight. When he let her go, Lynn opened her mouth to ask him about his trip, but she froze when Sam whipped his phone out of his pocket and showed her the picture he had as his background.
The joy that swept through her had her jaw dropping. The picture was the cutest thing she'd ever seen and she had never seen her niece look so exuberant. She beamed at Sam. "Wow, where was this taken?"
"It's from our first date," Sam replied quietly, "When we were at High Line Park."
"Why are you whispering?" Lynn asked—before her eyes widened. "Wait—you still haven't told your dad?"
Sam blushed, but he shook his head. Lynn gave him a look. "I'm talking to Mercedes tonight and I'll ask her before I tell anyone else."
"Fine," Lynn said with a pout, "but once it's out in the open—I get free rights to fangirl over your relationship."
Sam laughed at that, but Lynn was dead serious. He just didn't realize it yet. Their conversation ended when Jeff walked into the kitchen—sniffing loudly.
"Is that burnt—Lynn did you burn the bacon?" Jeff asked in disbelief. Lynn blushed, because she knew he was teasing. It was just embarrassing because thinking about him was the reason she had burnt the bacon—he just didn't need to know that.
"I can't be a star chef all the time you know," she retorted playfully and Jeff laughed. Sam grinned at them both, before he joined Stacey and Stevie at the table—where the twins were already going to town on their breakfast.
One thing was for sure—the Evans family loved their food.
"I don't expect you to be," Jeff replied honestly as he walked closer to her. His scent filled her olfactory senses and Lynn thought she was going to go a little crazy. She was torn from her thoughts by his exclamation of "What the hell, Lynn?"
She blinked at him. "What's wrong?"
Jeff's response was to grab her hand gently and lift it to his face. He eyed the blisters with discontent for a few moments. "How'd this happen? Did you run cold water over it?"
"Ah, I got distracted while I was cooking the bacon and some of the grease popped. And yeah, I ran cold water over it," she answered. Jeff was still holding her hand—but his thumb was gingerly tracing patterns over her knuckles.
The feeling was sending sparks of desire all over her body and she didn't quite know how to respond.
Her brain hadn't felt that rush of sexual interest in a long time and now it was like, "What the fuck is this?"; and subsequently freaking out in her head.
It was not helping her self-esteem for her attraction to her friend to skyrocket like this.
"Do they hurt?" he asked and Lynn numbly shook her head.
She had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from reacting when Jeff placed a soft kiss near one of her blisters. His lips felt soft and slightly chapped and Lynn had never wished that she could kiss him before, but now—she would give just about anything to have those lips on hers.
Jeff met her eyes—his own expression disconcerted—before he gingerly let her hand go. They went to eat breakfast—and all Lynn could think about was how good Jeff's ass looked in his jeans as she followed him into the dining area, but at least her hand didn't hurt anymore.
They ate and talked—the kids tripping over themselves to tell their stories to Sam. Jeff listened with an amused smile on his face and Lynn was stuck in a state of heart break and horniness. It was only when Stacey asked him about his competition that she was drawn out of her thoughts.
Sam seemed to deflate a little after the question and Lynn frowned. "We got placed twelfth."
"That's good though!" Lynn told him, "Weren't there over seventy-five show choirs participating?"
Sam nodded and replied, "Yeah, but you had to place in the top ten to carry onto the next round."
Damn. That must've sucked something fierce. To get so close and then have it ripped from you? Two more places and they would've been there. Lynn gave Sam a sad smile.
"Did they say why?" Jeff asked slowly. Stacey looked angry and sad.
"No," Sam responded, "but it probably had something to do with the fact that Finn decided to declare his love for Rachel by kissing her after their duet—on the competition stage."
Lynn's jaw dropped and she blurted, "They what?" That was so unprofessional that Lynn didn't even have words. The New Directions were lucky that they didn't get placed lower than they did because of that.
"Yeah," Sam said with a deep frown, "Everyone else was mad too. Santana almost clawed Rachel's eyeballs out."
Jeff choked out a laugh and Lynn couldn't keep the amusement off her face. "You're going to have to explain that one," she said with a grin and Sam laughed.
It took Sam about five minutes to tell the story—complete with impressions of each girl, but it took them all about twenty minutes to stop laughing over it. It just got better when Sam told them about the plane ride. Conversation continues around Sam's trip and all of the things he saw while in New York. It's obvious that he's carefully avoiding all mentions of anything that could incriminate him and Mercedes.
Lynn wanted to laugh, but she held her tongue. Sam was a great kid.
"Well," Jeff said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, "We've got a whole day on our hands and after chores—we have no plans. Any suggestions?"
There was a moment of silence as Sam, Stacey and Stevie glanced at each other.
"Baseball?" Stevie offered and Sam beamed.
"I'm down with baseball," Sam told them. Lynn sank slightly in her chair as smiles crossed the Evans' faces. She was not a big baseball player—meaning she'd never played in her entire life. Running, that was her thing—hitting a ball speeding towards her face with a skinny pole was not okay.
She hoped they would conveniently forget that she was there, but no such luck. She knew the exact moment when Jeff's eyes locked onto her. "Lynn, you want to play?" he asked.
Feeling her face heat up slightly, Lynn avoided his eyes as she stacked her dishes. "No, I'm good. I'll get some laundry done, wash up the dishes, and clean the bathrooms—you guys can play without me."
Jeff's eyebrows rose on his forehead, but it was Sam who responded. "You're going to scrub a toilet instead of having fun and playing baseball outside with us?"
"We all have things to do," Lynn replied as she stood from her chair. Maybe if she made a quick escape—she wouldn't have to answer any more questions.
"But isn't it daddy's turn to clean the bathrooms?" Stacey asked, "I'm sure that's what it said on the chore chart."
Damn her perfectionist tendencies for making that chart. Jeffrey was smirking at her. She gave him the stink eye. He laughed.
"Kids, why don't you head up and get your chores done?" he said, "And change into some clothes you don't mind running around in."
Three different noises of acquiescence filled the room as the three kids rose and took their dirty dishes into the kitchen. Both Lynn and Jeff listened to the clang of dishes being put in the sink and the sound of chatter as the three of them headed towards the stairs. Lynn picked up her plate as Jeff stood from his seat.
"Why don't you want to play?" he questioned in amusement as he gathered his own dishes.
"I've never played before," Lynn admitted with a blush.
Jeff stared. "Are you serious?" he asked. Lynn gave him a look of fond exasperation before walking into the kitchen. He followed her.
"Yes, I'm serious," she told him as she placed her dishes in the sink. "There's something inherently wrong about letting someone launch a ball at my face and then trying to hit it with a skinny pole."
"First off, it's called a bat," Jeff replied as he placed his dishes in the sink too, "And you can always duck."
"Absolutely not," Lynn refused and she was ready to defend her decision until Jeff touched her arm.
"Give it a chance?" he asked, "Please?" The soft look in his green eyes had her melting before he'd even finished the sentence.
"Fine," she grumbled. Jeff grinned down at her—and feeling the blush heat up her neck, Lynn swatted him on the chest. "But you're teaching me how to play! And if I get a black eye, I demand a back rub."
Jeffrey laughed—his deep tenor felt like it set off an explosion of her ovaries. Why was this man so sexy? Lynn mentally bitch-slapped her attraction.
"Fine," he agreed, "I'll give you a back rub if you get injured."
Lynn nodded, before shooing him out of the kitchen. "Chores, old man," she told him with a teasing grin.
"I am not old!" he retorted, and Lynn gasped when he slapped her ass. Jeff left quickly before Lynn could retaliate. Her face felt like it was on fire.
It totally wasn't wrong if she considered that a back rub might be worth getting hit with a baseball. It wasn't her fault that Jeffrey was so damn attractive.
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Lynn's House
Lima, Ohio
11:24 AM
Sam wanted to laugh at the expression of terror and dismay that crossed Lynn's face when she was finally called up to bat after Stevie and Stacey had both gone. He could see the amusement on his dad's face as he coaxed her to the plate and showed her how to stand—the whole thing just made him laugh; especially when Lynn tried to hit the ball and failed miserably.
His dad tried to hide his laugh, but he wasn't very successful because Lynn tried to kick him. He scooted away from her with a mischievous grin. And Sam didn't want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that they were flirting—oh Christ, his dad and Lynn were flirting.
For a moment his mind drew a pretty big blank. What if his dad and Lynn had something going on—? Sam shook his head to clear those thoughts away. He had no idea how he felt about the whole situation and he didn't even know if there was really a situation to think about in the first place.
Sam shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind—telling himself that he'd think about it later.
He was drawn from his inner musings when Lynn finally hit the ball and Sam let his instincts take over as he bolted after the ball.
Sam heard Lynn saying, "I did it! Yes!" and his dad's laughter.
Jeff watched Lynn do a little dance—her hips swinging, arms flailing and shimmying her shoulders—before he pointed out that she should probably run to first base before Sam got her out. With a gasp, she took off running—only she took the bat with her on her mad dash to the homemade base.
Jeff almost died laughing. Lynn realized her mistake, but not until she stood on first base and was staring at the object in her hand with shock. Jeff watched as she looked up from the bat in her hand and over to him—the embarrassment on her face was enough to make him burst out laughing again.
He wasn't the only one. Stacey was giggling hysterically and Stevie's face was red as he looked anywhere else but at Lynn. Jeff knew that he wanted to laugh so badly. It was only when Sam trotted over to first base and his expression shifted to incredulity that Stevie splayed out on the ground and giggled.
Jeff could tell that Lynn was blushing as Sam said something to her that made her smack him playfully on the arm. His son's laughter was bright and cheerful—it helped that Lynn couldn't contain her own amusement.
Once their giggles settled, the five of them got into the game. Sam, Stacey, and Stevie ran circles around he and Lynn, but Lynn eventually started enjoying the game—once she accepted how horrible she was at it. She managed to hit the ball at least once every time she was up to bat, and one time she scored a homerun. Everybody cheered—even the kids who were playing against them.
Lynn's happy dance was a frequent occurrence during the game. And Jeff wanted to hit himself, but he thought it was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Trash-talking was a must between him and his eldest son. The sound of a ball cracking against a bat, pounding footsteps, loud laughter, and cheers were the sounds that filled Lynn's rather large backyard for over an hour.
Marley, the attention whore that she is, joined them mid-game—and she chased everyone running throughout the whole game. Her happy barking made Stacey beam. In the end though, the kids won the game.
Sam was glowing by the time Jeff suggested grilling some hot dogs for lunch. Three cheers went up and Marley chimed in with her barking.
"Alright, go get cleaned up then," Jeff said with a grin, "Wash the hands, the face—"
"And put on some more sun block." Sam finished for him. "We know dad." Jeff flicked his son on the forehead as Sam walked by.
"Smart aleck," he told him fondly.
"Old man," Sam replied.
"Girly hair," Jeff retorted.
"What was that? The sound of your joints creaking?" Sam said. He wisely ducked and then picked up the pace when Jeff reached out to grab him. "Don't hurt yourself now, dad."
"Go get cleaned up, muffin-head," Jeff responded, "Before I take you to the carpet."
"Yeah, you could take me," Sam said over his shoulder, "But you can't get back up once you're down."
Jeff playfully shook his fist at his son, and Sam laughed before heading inside the house after Stevie and Stacey; their chatter still loud and happy. It warmed his heart to see them so joyful. Jeff was sure that there was nothing more incredible than seeing them happy.
He looked over when he felt Lynn's hand on his arm. "They're going to be okay, Jeffrey," she told him quietly—and the confidence in her voice wormed its way into that box of doubt that he'd buried deep in his heart.
It was a constant fear that he carried with him every day. That something was going to happen and it would be like pushing the reset button on all the progress they had made. So much had changed in the past couple of months and he worried for their emotional state.
"I know," he admitted—his voice more gruff than he'd been hoping for. "But I'm well aware that this whole thing is nowhere near over—and I just pray that we can make it through this. They've lost so much in so little time and it's hard to not worry about how they're coping; Sam especially. Everything he's known has been ripped to pieces in front of his face, and I feel like he's done an admirable job of making it through, but Lynn," Jeff had to pause for a moment.
He remembered the sight of his son's anguish and rage—it burned a whole through his heart and sometimes it made it difficult to fall asleep at night. "You didn't see his face—his eyes—after I told them about Elizabeth cheating." Jeff looked over at her and her hazel eyes were swimming with concern and compassion. "That's not something you recover from within days or even years—I'm well aware that there will be backlash, and I'm praying that when the time comes, I can do right by him."
"You're not alone, Jeffrey," Lynn stated as placed her forehead against his shoulder. "I won't let you go through this alone, and if you ever need someone to talk to—I'm here."
Jeff's heart thumped with gratitude. He could do nothing besides shift his body so Lynn's head fell onto his chest and he wrapped an arm around shoulders. She returned the embrace by moving her arms around his waist. Jeff placed a kiss on the top of her head and he felt her grip tighten in acknowledgement.
"You're with me?" Jeff asked; he didn't want to admit that he needed the reassurance.
Raising three kids, divorcing the woman he'd been married to for years, being homeless and jobless and so fucking angry—it was a lot to do by himself; and now that he had someone willing to stand at his side—he found himself slightly desperate to not have to do it on his own. He would if he had to, because he loved his kids, but God had introduced this woman into his life for a reason and he wasn't one to walk away from the answer to his prayers.
Lynn lifted her head from his chest. Green met hazel as Lynn freed one hand and lightly touched the side of his face. Freshly-shaven, his cheek was ultra sensitive to her touch—at least that's what he told himself.
Her hand was warm and soft and smooth; it felt like pure comfort and love and acceptance had bled into him with a graze of her fingers.
"I'm with you." They stared at each other for a long moment, before they pulled away at the same time. Jeff needed to get his grilling supplies.
"Time for the grill master to make his debut," Jeff said as he gathered the bag of baseball equipment from the ground. Lynn laughed.
"Yeah, but I'm going to make some vegetables to go along with it," Lynn replied. Jeff looked scandalized.
"You're what?" he questioned. "This is a barbeque—no healthy crap allowed."
"Then you're about to be disappointed, because all I have is whole wheat buns, and low fat hot dogs," Lynn said with a grin. Jeff groaned.
"That's it—you can't go grocery shopping alone anymore."
"Wha—why not?"
"You're trying to make my family health nuts—and that's not acceptable."
"Are you seriously bitching over some vegetables?"
"Low fat hot dogs, Lynn?" Jeff retorted, "What is that even?"
"Something you apparently need more of, Mr. Tubby."
"You did not just call me fat!"
Lynn only walked into the house, giggling.
"Lynn! Lynn, I'm not fat!"
His response was Lynn's loud laughter as she walked upstairs. He put the bag in the garage and then followed her upstairs—grumbling under his breath.
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Lynn's House
Lima, Ohio
5:01 PM
His Pandora turned on—Otis Redding was a recent obsession—and the music pouring lightly through his computer speakers, Sam dropped onto his bed with a relaxed sigh. His hair was still wet from his shower and it was nice to be in clothes fresh from the laundry after playing around all day—not that he was wearing more than his plaid pajama bottoms and boxer briefs.
Today had been a break from responsibility and his normal life—it was glorious. Breakfast, baseball, lunch, and board games with his family were a nice way to relax and reconnect. He felt more like himself than he had in awhile.
Sam stretched out across his bed and just let the music flow over him. He must have dozed off for a bit, because he was awakened by the sound of his cell phone ringing. Sam quickly rolled towards his oak nightstand beside his bed and grabbed his cell.
When he saw Mercy-Mine flashing across the screen, a smile nearly split his face. He answered on the second ring.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Hey Blondie," Mercedes' voice from the other end was soft but just as wonderful as he remembered.
"Hi sweetheart," he replied—a blush staining his cheeks, but man did it feel good to call her that. He could practically feel Mercedes' blush through the phone. At least he wasn't the only one nervous about screwing this up.
They had talked on the phone before, of course, but that was as friends and their relationship was definitely no longer platonic. It was exciting and nerve-wracking, but that was the best part of dating someone new—someone that made you giddy by just existing. It had never been this strong before, but Sam should've expected it—it was Mercedes Jones after all.
"Uh, wow," Mercedes stammered, "Never been called that one before either."
Sam chuckled lightly. "I promise you'll get used to it, because I'm not gonna stop."
"I don't want you to," she replied, but she sounded just as happy as she was flustered.
"What are you up to?" he asked as he rolled over onto his back and rested his head on his pillows.
"Not much," she told him, "Oh! Well, my mom is making her peach cobbler for dinner tonight because my brothers have been pestering her for it. It was pretty funny. They all unleashed the puppy dog eyes on her."
"Your mother is a food goddess," Sam said with reverence—his tone making Mercedes laugh. "Her cookies were to die for—I can hardly imagine how her peach cobbler would taste."
"It's amazing—sweet, slightly spicy, and crunchy crust on the outside," Mercedes responded. Sam's mouth watered.
"I don't think I could handle it," he stated and Mercedes laughed again.
"We'll see if I can save you a piece," she told him.
"Um, I'm pretty sure that all the awards go to you for that. Did I say that you're the best girlfriend ever? Because you are."
He could picture her rolling her eyes in fond exasperation. "And Quinn is going to spend the night over here tonight," she said.
Sam blinked, but he remembered Mercedes telling him how important Quinn was to the Jones' family. He was happy that they were reconnecting, but it was slightly weird that his ex-girlfriend who cheated on him was practically sisters with his current girlfriend.
"That's great," he replied, "Did she go to church with you this morning?"
"No, she called earlier today and we decided to hang out tonight which turned into having a sleepover," Mercedes answered, "It should be fun, but it's been a while since Quinn and I spent girl time together."
"You're amazing," Sam told her, "I'm sure everything will work out fine."
"Thanks Sam," she replied.
"No problem, Nala," he responded.
"Now what did you do today?" she asked, "Besides you know—getting me to sin in church."
Sam laughed. "Well, Lynn made breakfast and then we all played baseball. My dad and I grilled hot dogs and Lynn made this amazing macaroni and cheese to go with it. We were forced to eat some vegetables, but it was still delicious."
Mercedes laughed softly, and Sam continued, "I kicked my dad's butt at monopoly and poker. And Stacey cleaned our clocks when we played Candyland. Lynn won when we played Last Word and Stevie dominated Chutes and Ladders."
"Stacey beat you at Candyland?" Mercedes crowed in amusement.
"That girl kept getting the best cards," Sam rebuffed, "I'm pretty sure she was cheating!"
Mercedes just laughed. "Gamer extraordinaire got spanked by a seven-year old," she choked out through giggles. "That should be on a sign somewhere."
Sam pouted, but his smile won over his put-out expression. He bit his lip. Best ask now.
"Hey Cede," Sam began, "I was wondering how you'd feel if I told my dad and Lynn about us dating?"
Mercedes fell silent for a moment and Sam's heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. Shit, he had gone and ruined everything—at least that's what he thought until Mercedes answered.
"I was going to ask you if I could tell Quinn," she said.
They were quiet for a moment before they both cracked up. Now that that was out of the way—the conversation steered towards more general topics; like Stacey's upcoming recital and final exam day. Mercedes told Sam all about church that morning, and Sam recounted stories about Lynn's abysmal baseball skills.
They talked for almost two hours. It was only when Mercedes was being called down for dinner that they had to hang up.
"Do you want to meet at the Lima Bean for coffee before school tomorrow?" Mercedes asked.
"I'd love to," he replied. He could practically see her smile. They were silent for a second. "I wish I could kiss you goodbye right now."
Mercedes' breath hitched slightly and Sam felt a slow grin spread across his face. "I wish I could kiss you right now too, Sammy."
Nope, his heart did not just do the dougie in his chest. His face was not bright red and he did not feel the tingle of arousal in his groin.
"I guess we'll have to make up for it tomorrow, huh?" he replied quietly—not wanting to break the heavy mood that had settled over them.
"I guess so," she responded—her voice sounded wrecked and Sam swallowed with difficulty. How the fuck was he going to survive this relationship if she could make him hard over the phone without even doing anything?
"Goodnight Mercy-Mine," he whispered, but Mercedes apparently heard him very clearly.
"Mercy-Mine?" she rasped, sounding slightly shocked. His blush spread from his cheeks and down to his shoulders. Shit.
"Just another nickname I have for you," he told her. Mercedes laughed softly.
"Is it bad if I like it?" she asked.
"Not at all," he replied with a grin.
"What happened to Nala?" she questioned.
"That one will only be used when in your company," he replied immediately, "That—that's our secret. The moment I realized how stunning you were, but Mercy-Mine, I don't care who hears it. Not that I'm going to shout it or anything, but—"
"It's alright, Sam," she responded with light amusement coloring her tone. "I get it, but I really have to go."
"Night," he told her.
"Goodnight... Txe'lan," she whispered.
Sam made a shocked sound in the back of his throat, but Mercedes had hung up the phone before he could say anything. He knew that word. It was Na'vi.
Sam was fluent in Na'vi and Mercedes said something in a fictional language that she hadn't given two fucks about before he told her about his love of Avatar.
If he hadn't been hard before—that certainly did it.
Mercedes spoke to him in Na'vi.
The private nickname she'd created for him was in fucking Na'vi.
Quinn had thought his obsession dumb. Santana had mocked him for it. He'd gotten so much shit from people because of his love of the movie and the world within it, but Mercedes Jones—diva extraordinaire—learned something for him.
He had no words for what he felt.
His heart was doing the crip-walk in his chest. And the rest of his organs were doing the electric slide. He had never felt this awesome before. More than ever, Sam felt like he had been blessed by God when that diva stormed into his life with all the compassion and love of million worlds.
He knew what she called him now.
Txe'lan and he knew very well what it meant.
He was her Txe'lan, which meant 'my heart' in Na'vi.
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Jones Estate
Lima, Ohio
9:07 PM
Quinn showing up at Mercedes' house again had brought the party to the Jones' Estate.
Mercedes' dad had been overjoyed to see her again, and the blonde had been practically dog piled by Jason, Derek, Kyler and Joshua. It was a family reunion of epic proportions. Dinner had been full of loud chatter, laughter, and tons of stories.
Quinn inhaled the peach cobbler like it was the last thing she'd ever eat. Mercedes barely managed to save some to give to Sam the next day. She literally had to fight her brothers for it. When Mercedes told her mom who it was for though, her mom stood up and laid that act-right on her brothers and like a badass took a whole chunk without having to protect herself from anything.
If she wasn't still soothing her wounds from being poked by Josh's fork—she would've been amazed and slightly jealous. It was official—her mother was a BAMF.
Quinn had been no help the whole time—she had been laughing hysterically while chowing down on her dinner. Mercedes pouted at her soul-sister.
It was like old times. Quinn teasing and trash-talking alongside Mercedes—her divatude making its reappearance as she and Mercedes made a stand against her four older brothers. Mercedes' parents were bickering at the table, and the younger kids would throw in random comments that had them all cackling.
For a while, everything was as it should be. Quinn helped with dinner clean-up; still chatting with Mercedes' father about everything that came to mind. Seeing the indulgent look on her dad's face had Mercedes beaming.
It was nice to see Quinn practically glowing under all the love that was being thrown at her. What was even nicer—sitting on the basement floor in front of the gigantic television; wearing pajamas with their hair up in ridiculous ponytails and chowing down on Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. Of course, Drop Dead Diva was playing on the screen and Mercedes didn't realize just how much she'd missed this.
"Oh for the love of—Grayson! Get rid of that ho!" Quinn cursed at the screen—it made Mercedes giggle. "Jane is right there!"
The two of them groused and bitched throughout the whole episode. It was great; just what Mercedes needed. Only when the credits roll did she and Quinn stop laughing. Her blonde friend leaned her head against Mercedes' shoulder and let out a soft sigh.
"We have to start doing this again," she said. Mercedes smiled as she rested her head atop Quinn's. "I didn't realize how much I missed this—us—until now."
"I agree," Mercedes replied, "Life hasn't been the same without you."
And it was true. When Kurt transferred to Dalton at the beginning of the year—Mercedes had needed Quinn, and when her friend wasn't there; it felt like the initial loneliness eclipsed everything else. For a long time, Mercedes had been angry at Quinn for abandoning her.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am about that," Quinn told her softly. The diva could hear the sincere regret in her voice. "I should've gone to you, but I was too stubborn and after everything happened with Finn and Sam—"Mercedes tried her best not to react to Sam's name, but she still tensed slightly. "I was too ashamed to ask you for help. I thought you would hate me."
"Quinn, I've never hated you," Mercedes admitted, "I was pissed, yeah, and there were quite a few times when I wanted to shake you and ask you what the hell you were doing, but I never hated you—I honestly don't think I could."
Quinn sat up straight and tucked her legs beneath her. "Sophomore year—you meant the world to me," the blonde whispered, "You took me in when no one else could even look me in the eye—much less wanted me around. I became a part of your family."
Mercedes stared at the side of Quinn's face—taken aback by the tears she saw. "Family is something I never understood. My mom, my dad, and I—we were strangers living in a pretty house together. Outside of the house, we were perfection. I was the straight A student, a cheerleader, blonde, religious and pretty. My mom was a house wife who carried herself with grace and elegance. My dad was a business man—full of confidence and wealth. But we knew nothing about each other."
Sniffling slightly, Quinn wiped the tears off her face—they were instantly replaced by others.
"And with my dad gone, I figured that things would change. I won't lie because for a while, they did. My mom and I actually talked, but then my diagnosis came and I guess she couldn't figure out what to do or say. We barely speak to each other anymore, but I know that she loves me. That's a huge improvement. She worries about me constantly, and she tries so hard to make it seem like everything is perfectly fine."
Mercedes' heart broke for her friend. She scooted closer to Quinn. The blonde turned her head to look at Mercedes. She had seen this type of pain in Quinn's eyes not too long ago, and it hurt her even more now than it did before. Quinn was so vulnerable and God, Mercedes wished she could make it better.
"But it's not Mercy," Quinn said—the flood of tears deepening and her voice cracking with emotion. "Nothing is fine. I'm not okay, and I don't need her to act like I'm not broken, because I am! I want her to acknowledge how much this hurts her—so I don't feel like I'm so alone—like I'm not torturing myself by believing that I'm unfixable."
Quinn was barely holding herself together, and Mercedes wasn't far behind her. Heart racing, tears gathering, and her stomach clenching—she wrapped her arms around her friend. It was all she could do.
"Delia has been more of a mother to me than my real mom has. She knows my favorite foods and songs. She talked to me—showing me that my problems were real and that things could change. She taught me about love—and how much loving people can hurt. Delia has always been honest, and I need my mom to do that for me. Why won't she, Mercy?"
"Have you told her all of this?" Mercedes asked gently and Quinn shook her head.
"I wouldn't know where to start," she answered.
"We'll figure it out, Quinn, I promise," Mercedes responded. Quinn nodded into Mercedes' shoulder and melted into the embrace. They were quiet for a few minutes—the silence comfortable.
"When I saw Finn kissing Rachel—I thought I would be jealous." Quinn admitted—the topic change threw Mercedes for a loop, but she wasn't going to stop her friend from talking.
"You weren't?" Mercedes asked—she was surprised. She had wondered how it would affect Quinn, but she hadn't wanted to say anything.
"Surprisingly," Quinn replied with a slight laugh, "No." Quinn gingerly removed herself from Mercedes' hug and wiped her face clean of tears. "I waited for the rage to come, or the sadness, but all I felt was disappointment—and not because he kissed Rachel, but because he kissed Rachel on the stage and that could count against us."
Mercedes gaped. She hadn't expected that one at all. "Really?" she blurted, before snapping her mouth shut.
"Yeah," Quinn replied, "Honestly, I think I was fooling around with Finn because he was a way for me to try and love myself again. I don't think I was in love with him—I don't think I ever was."
That was a lot to take in at once. All the fighting and tears and drama between Finn, Rachel, and Quinn had been for nothing, but in a very distant and twisted way—Mercedes could understand her reasoning.
"What also surprised me was when I saw Sam," Quinn said slowly—and it caught Mercedes' attention. Please God, don't have Quinn falling for Sam again. "And how affectionate he was with you after our performance."
Mercedes' heart was in her throat. She knew Quinn well enough to know when she was fishing for information. What should she say? What could she say?
"What do you mean?" Mercedes asked nonchalantly. Quinn gave her a look.
"I mean that I dated Sam for three months and I know what he's like towards a girl he has feelings for," Quinn said bluntly. Mercedes couldn't quite prevent the shock from crossing her face and Quinn didn't look like she wanted her to. "I can also tell that you returned those feelings. You don't let just anyone brush your hair behind your ear."
The silence between them was thick. Mercedes stared at Quinn and Quinn stared at Mercedes.
"We've been dating since last Thursday," Mercedes finally told her and a smile tugged at the corners of Quinn's lips.
"Unofficially how long have you been together?"
"Since prom," Mercedes admitted. She was surprised by the squeal that Quinn let out. "Are you—happy about this?"
"Of course!" Quinn replied, "Just because my love life is shattered on the floor and filled with more holes than swiss cheese—doesn't mean I don't want my sister to be happy."
"But what about liking Sam?"
"Cede, we've already gone over this," Quinn sighed in exasperation, "Yes, it's weird that you're dating my ex boyfriend, but we both know that I only dated him so I could make myself feel better. And, I will admit that I was fond of him—he was adorable, but he deserved so much better than me. And he got it."
Hearing those words from Quinn had her tearing up.
In some way, Mercedes had constantly felt inferior to Quinn—her beauty, her popularity. She had never completely felt like she could compete against someone like her. And to have Quinn say that she—Mercedes Jones—was better than her; it did things to her heart.
"Thank you Quinn," Mercedes replied.
"No problem," the blonde said with a smile. "Now—spill! I want to hear about everything."
"Wha—Quinn!" Mercedes sputtered as embarrassment spread across her face.
"He better have taken my soul-sister on an epic first date," Quinn sassed—she was wearing Mercedes' patented hell-to-the-no face. It made her laugh. "If he didn't we're going to have some problems. And Breadstix does not count."
"Quinn!" she said in amusement, "You really want to hear all the sordid details?"
"There are sordid details?" Quinn squeaked. "Now you have to talk. I want to know about the first kiss, first hug, everything. He has kissed you, right?"
Mercedes blushed furiously at the word kiss. "Well, yes, but—I" Quinn cut her off.
"Sam's a really good kisser, and he better have turned up the heat for my girl," Quinn said, causing Mercedes' face to heat up even more. "Please? Pretty, please girlie?"
Mercedes was torn between embarrassment and fond amusement as she stared at Quinn's ridiculous pout. She gave in with a sigh. And she would never admit it, but it was awesome to be able to squeal over everything with someone else.
Mercedes told Quinn about everything. Her gasps, giggles, and comments made the stories even more hilarious. Their girl talk lasted long into the night. They both passed out on the couch around one in the morning.
May 14, 2011 (Sunday)
Lynn's House
Lima, Ohio
10:12 PM
"Hey dad," Sam said as he poked his head into the office area where Jeff and Lynn had been discussing something. They both looked up at him. Lynn smiled and he smiled back. "I was just coming to tell you I was heading up to bed."
"Oh," his dad replied, before he glanced at his watch. "Um, would you mind if we talked for a bit before you head up?"
Sam blinked. He wondered what his dad wanted to talk about, but he nodded anyway. His eyebrows rose when Lynn and his father shared a telling look. She sighed slightly.
"I'm going to go make some tea and head up to bed. We can work on the rest of this in the morning," she told them both with a grin. Lynn waited until his dad nodded at her, before padding from the room with a soft goodnight after giving both of them a hug.
His dad didn't speak until after Lynn had left the room, and the conversation they had threatened Sam's happiness. While he'd been gone, his father had apparently established a game plan for tracking down his mom. His father told him all about filing for divorce and what he had to do to make it happen.
His emotions by the end were all over the place. Was he happy that his mom—Elizabeth was going to be out of the picture? Was that something he should be happy about?
He was furious with her and he pretty much never wanted to see her face again, but she was still his mom. She had raised him and loved him and somewhere deep down he still loved her, but he didn't know if he was ready for this.
And Stevie and Stacey—god, how would they react? The whole situation was strenuous. He could feel his dad's concerned gaze watching him as he tried to process all the information. Sam couldn't wrap his mind around it completely.
He just wanted to go to bed.
"I appreciate you telling me, dad," Sam said finally, "but I really don't know how I feel about it all. Can we talk more some other day?"
His dad looked relieved and worried. "Of course, kiddo. I just wanted to keep you in the loop. We're in this together."
Sam didn't think he could've loved his dad more if he tried. "Thanks dad."
"Why don't you head up to bed? We've got a long few weeks ahead of us. Lynn meant to tell you this earlier, but the restaurant—with some hard work and elbow grease should be ready for opening in the next five or six weeks."
Sam smiled. "That's great!" he said honestly as he stood up. "But night dad."
"Goodnight Sam," his dad responded. Sam turned around and had almost walked out of the room, before he remembered that there was one more thing he had to do.
"I also meant to tell you," Sam said as he glanced at his father, "that Mercedes and I are dating now."
He would be lying if he said that he wasn't nervous about his dad's response. Which is why he was relieved to see the huge smile that crossed his dad's face.
"That's fantastic, son!" he said, "I thought it was her you were texting earlier, but I didn't want to put my foot in my mouth."
Sam laughed. "Good call."
"She's a great girl, Sammy."
"I know dad," he replied, "I know."
REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until next time. :D And just for fun, in your reviews could you tell me where you see JLynn heading? Thanks!