Hi guys. So I would as always like to thank you for your faves and follows of not only this story but my others and me as an author. I'm still shocked when I get a new alert. So thanks. And to my reviewers, thanks for taking the time to give me your feedback. I read and appreciate them all.

So it's the next chapter huh? (Finally! Am I right?) We are inching closer to the end here people. So please:

Read, Enjoy, and Review.


Parental Guidance Suggested

The rhythmic thumping of his leg, while lightly gnawing at an invisible hang nail on his right thumb, was a familiar and oddly soothing action for Sam, as he stared vacantly at the soundless television in his father's hospital room. He didn't care what was being shown, not missing the commentary, using the time to instead allow his thoughts to fill the empty space. His memory flashed through the events that landed him in a chair, seated next to his now peacefully slumbering father.

His mother remorsefully explained everything that resulted in his father's current state. He could tell that she regretted not informing him about the night she woke to find his father in an enclosed garage, with the car running. But he also understood that she assumed that the steps she had taken every night after, had rectified the potentially dangerous situation. However, as with anything man made or monitored, mistakes will happen. Routines can become lax, and accidents can, and will occur. And how was she to know that the one night she forgot to hide the keys, would be the same night Dwight got up and found them. The result was Mary waking to an empty bed, an open garage door, and her husband missing.

He painfully attempted to imagine the horror that engulfed his mother, the shrill screams for Steven to get out of bed, the panicked educed daze that filled the house. His lips spread into an oddly placed, small smile, as he imagined his younger brother's agility while bolting out of the door, taking over his role of protector. But, his pride was quickly snuffed out by the thought of his young sister, Stacy distraught and crying as they all canvassed the area, the early morning dew burning off as the Memphis sun rose higher in the sky, giving a blaring light to their terrifying reality: Dwight Evans was operating a vehicle, and no one, including Dwight, knew where he was.

Sam, sat up in his chair, gripping the arm rest, as he quickly turned his head to allow his brain the visual of his father in his bed resting, no longer lost. He sat back, exhaling deeply, resuming his previous leg shaking and finger nibbling. He reminded himself that, luckily, Dwight had only driven approximately five blocks to a nearby park. He was unable to come to a complete stop, running into a pole, causing cosmetic damage to the family car's bumper, but the force was enough to cause Dwight to hit his head on the steering wheel, slicing him above his left eye. When his mother got to him, he was not far from the scene of the accident, 911 called by a Mommy and Me type group who met in the park to exercise and gab.

Sam closed his eyes thanking God that other than the gash that require five stitches, and some body work on the car, his father was okay, and hadn't harmed anyone else, fully aware that the situation could have turned out much worse. He didn't even scold his mother who, he quickly rationalized, had been through enough, without him yelling at her for her failure to tell him about the initial car incident. He instead insisted that she and his younger siblings go home and rest, having been through so much already, declaring that he would stay the night with their father. And although he should have been comforted by the fact that he knew everyone was safe, Sam hardly slept a wink that night.

Sam slowly rubbed his tired eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose as his thoughts turned to Mercedes, and how he failed to give her the same amount of considerate he had given his mother. He leaned forward, his stomach doubled over, as he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands reassigned to the task of holding his head. His right knee continued to bounce, still serving as a release of nervous energy. He berated himself under his breath for how poorly he has treated her. From his initial words to his mother, to their argument right before he left for the airport, he regretted it all. He cursed himself realizing the first time in weeks he had been allowed to speak to her, he had mishandled it so badly. But, the surge of emotions from finding out that his father was hospitalized, coupled with the suppressed feelings he held for her bubbled out in a toxic brew that he could fully admit now in the sterile silence of the hospital room, was not only irrational, but totally misrepresented. Mercedes was absolutely right about him, he was a runner. But, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was the first girl he actually wanted to run towards. He confessed to himself and God that when something happened, good or bad, she was the first person he actually wanted to share it with. This new attachment terrified him to his core.

But thinking back to their last meeting, she was incorrect about one thing. She did deserve an explanation of his actions. Of why, since high school, trust came hard for him. That just like with his family and their situation, he felt he had to keep his heart guarded from the world. That her kindness, not just sex, changed all that, and created a want of attachment in him. But his stomach sank as he realized, he was too late. She would never listen to him if he did. She would probably never forgive him. And after the way he acted, why would she?

"You know" a dry voice croaked, startling him Sam. "you'll grow grey early if you keep doing that"

Sam quickly lifted his head in enough time to find Dwight smiling sorely at his obviously distraught eldest. A whisper thin smile came to Sam's lips as he joked "the thought of Stacy dating is going to do it anyway"

"Oh" Dwight groaned in a painfully playful tone. "What are you trying to do son, put me in the hospital?" he mused. He quickly scanned his surroundings closing with an "Oh" in a playful tone.

"Not funny" Sam quickly dead panned.

"Oh Sam" Dwight grinned in an attempt to lighten the seriousness of his current situation. "I'm lucid enough right now to make jokes. Please, just laugh with me" he pleaded as he held his hand out to his child.

Hesitantly, Sam took the good will gesture, with a weary breath. "But all jokes aside" he scolded, wanting to reinforce the trouble his father had unknowingly caused "This was serious Dad. You could have been killed. Or killed someone"

"I know" Dwight admitted a small chill running down at the thought of taking another person's life.

"I think it's time I moved back home-" Sam started sternly.

"No!" Dwight demanded, cutting him off with a head shake, dropping Sam's hand in the process.

"Or" Sam quickly compromised seeing that the thought of him moving back home to care for them would never be an option for his father "I should move you guys out to California, and take the job by boss offered me"

Dwight squeezed his eyes shut, as if somehow Sam's word hurt them. "And what about your life?" he quizzed. "You're happy in New York"

"What life? You are my life" Sam insisted sliding to the edge of his seat. "This family is my life"

"No son" Dwight corrected "We are a part of your life. I'm talking about the rest of your life, like your friends? And your girlfriend?"

Sam jerked back, shocked by his father's questions "I don't-"

"And before you deny everything" Dwight continued, in a tone that showed that he was in no mood for an argument "I want to tell you a story. The first time my father, your Paw Paw, saw me with your mother, did you know he said he knew she was the one?" he asked as he slowly slid into a seated position in his hospital bed. Sam silently shook his head no, the information honestly being news to him. "The night we went to prom" Dwight continued "He said he could tell she would be my wife, solely by the way I looked at her" he allowed a dry chuckle escape his chest as the memory actually came to him with a new, and relatively normal ease which was amazing since so much of his mind was a jumbled heap of them. "I didn't understand how he could see something I didn't figure out until later. I mean how could he see that? And with the way life tosses and turns anything could have happened, that would have prevented us from being together. His observation baffled me all of these years. And I didn't figure it out, not until I saw your face when you looked at Mercedes sitting across from you at our table. Then I knew exactly what he meant" he smiled turning his attention on a shocked Sam. Dwight gave a teeth baring grin as he pointed out "I mean, I even took the time to remember her name for God's sake" eliciting a small laugh from his son. "That has to account for something. And that, Sam, is life. And she's a part of your life and deserves consideration"

"Well" Sam sadly slumped into his chair "She may have been, but I screwed that all up" he confessed to his father. "Now she most likely doesn't want anything to do with me now, let alone be a part of my life."

"Well" Dwight pondered studying his son's demeanor "have you actually asked her to be a part of it?"

Sam bit down on his plump bottom lip, noticing that his father pointed out the simplest of truths, he had never formally asked her to be anything more than friends who would on occasion be physical.

"Daddy!" a high pitched voice squealed, breaking Sam's concentration. He looked up to find Stacy bounding into the room, straight into their father's open arms.

"Oh Cricket" He soothed as he scooped her into his arms, squeezing her tightly, savoring the moment. Mary followed close behind, with Steven bringing up the rear, finding the closest wall to prop himself against.

Mary quickly placed a beautiful bouquet of flowers on Dwight's hospital tray, and rushed over to her husband to embrace him, narrowly missed their youngest. "Hey you" she whispered relieved to see her love up and alert.

"Hey" he soothed, while smoothing his hand over her the back of her hair before letting her go to take her in.

"You gave us a scare" she chocked a bit looking him deep in his eyes.

"I know" he admitted "I'm so sorry"

"No. It's okay" she corrected him understanding that he had no control over his actions. "In fact the doctors are coming up with a new protocol for you, that may help to keep you lucid longer" she smiled smoothing his hair, placing her forehead against his. His only response was a smile and a silent prayer that whatever the doctors came up with, it would work, because although he failed to tell his family, he missed them, just as much as they missed his "healthy" self.

He hugged Mary again, and peered over her shoulder, to find their second child hanging back. "Hey bud" he called to Steven "Come here" he requested.

Reluctantly, Steven pushed off of the wall and made his way to his father. Mary slid out of the way allowing Dwight to hug his son tight, a physical thank you for his strength. Steven squeezed back, a mix of emotions. "I swear you just keep getting bigger" Dwight laughed looking at how tall his son was, and how broad his, now, thin shoulders stretched. Steven smiled, showing only a few of his bracket covered teeth. "And thanks for the flowers" he added to the room.

"Mercedes sent them" Stacy chirped

"She did?" Sam chimed in, having been quiet, just enjoying the beautiful scene of his family reunited.

"Yep!" Stacy confirmed

"Yeah" Steven corroborated. "She called me to ask how dad was, our address, and the name of the flowers that were in our yard. I wasn't sure of the name so I sent her a picture of them" he shrugged off.

"It has a card too" the youngest Evans smiled, sliding a small white envelope from the lush vegetation. Sam held his hand out, but she strolled past him bragging "It's not for you! Here Daddy."

Dwight sat up a bit straighter, taking the card from her delicate digits. He slid a small note out, reading it for the silently awaiting room"

Since you can't go to your garden, it will come to you.

Get well soon,

Mercedes

Sam's eyes drifted in astonishment of Mercedes kindness. "Well" Dwight huffed "That's very sweet. Sam when you go back to New York and talk to her, make sure you thank her for me" he added in a tone that indicated that Sam knew what he must do.

Sam nodded, looking into his father's eyes, with a new light, and motivation to set things right. "I sure will" he confirmed.


Meanwhile, back in New York:

Mercedes lounged silently on her couch, her head cradled in her mother Dorothy's lap, enthralled in one of her favorite movies.

A far cry then she had been the previous day after she and Sam's argument. She wondered out of the building, into the blaring summer sun. Slinking into her truck, she started and headed home, taking a much more scenic route, not wanting to get back so quickly. When she pulled into the front of her building, she wondered around the city she loved, not wanting to face her apartment, finding the thought of going into gave her a small sense of captivity. She walked for hours, on a blind sightseeing tour. She looked around but failed to really see any breath taking sights, her mind preoccupied with other thing. She walked in such an auto pilot mode, she looked up and magically she was outside her building. She didn't even remember the trek back to her starting point, it being a blur of faces and building.

Once inside of her apartment, she plopped down onto her couch, her mind still reeling, needing anything to focus on other than her fight. In a small stroke of genius, she whipped out her phone, quickly retrieving Steven's number, happy she had retained it. After a short conversation with the teen about his father, if he and his family were okay, their home address, and anxiously waiting for the picture of the flowers in his front yard, Mercedes placed a second call to a local florist she held a great working relationship with. She trusted them to know the quality of arrangement she expected, and plus they owed her a favor from a previous engagement.

And just as quickly as it came, her new found energy was zapped. She collapsed on her couch in a fetal position, the emotions she was trying so desperately to forget, hitting her like a large wave. She stayed that way for, what she could only assume by the change in the natural light in her home, hours, just attempting to process everything.

The only thing shaking her from her trance was the sound of knocking on her door. She knew it was silly, and pretty selfish, but she irrationally, for only a small moment, hopped it was Sam. She opened the door to find two large mahogany eyes that mirrored her own, with the exception of the wisdom of a longer life lived showing around their edges. Dorothy smiled timidly, before joking "I've learned that knocking is a necessity if I don't want to walk into a socialite sex tape." Mercedes stood before her wordlessly, almost as if possessed by some other worldly being. "Look, I know I bailed on the fourth with only a note" Dorothy continued after a moment of silence, assuming that was the reason her child had failed to welcome her in. "But Marco called, and you were dreading the Hamptons anyway so I figured..." she trailed off noticing that her apology seemed to have no effect on her. She looked into her eyes and found the normally warm fountains, seemed void of all emotions. "Mercedes?" she questioned nervously "Baby are you okay?" Looking past her into her apartment to see if she could spot any signs of trouble, finding all electronics and lights off. "Are you busy? Is Sam here?"

And with the final question, just the mention of his name, the dam exploded and Mercedes broke down into tears. The ones that had been collecting since she pulled off for the airport in Memphis. Scared and shocked, honestly not remembering the last time she witnessed her daughter cry, She dropped her bags, and scooped her youngest into her arm in an effort to quell her sobs.

Mercedes, when she finally calmed down enough to form complete sentences, explained everything to her mother, from the time she left for Sam's that afternoon she ditched her, to his cutting words to his own mother, to the weeks of not speaking, and finally their big blow up earlier that morning. Nothing was held back. Mercedes told all, relieved she could finally talk to anyone about her and Sam. At the close of her sniffle filled rant, her mother sat perfectly still, mentally digesting everything she was just told. "Well" she sighed after a few seconds of contemplation. Mercedes winced waiting for a load of righteous indignation to spill from her mother's lips, starting the obligatory "I told you so", the likes of which would make her regret confiding in her at all.

But, it never came. Dorothy stood up, pulling Mercedes up with her, put her arms around her baby while soothing, "How about you get into some PJ's, while I make a quick ice cream run, and we can talk about everything some more?"

Mercedes was stunned by not only the suggestion, but the fact that it included a fatty dairy based snack. "Really?" she quizzed, her eyes following her mother as she collected her purse.

"Yeah. Cookie dough still your favorite?" she asked walking towards the door. She turned back in enough time to see Mercedes nod in agreement. "Okay, I'll be back"

That evening, the two ate ice cream and talked early into the next morning, in an attempt to untangle the knot that was Mercedes emotions. By the end of their session, they both agreed that she was totally justified in her anger towards Sam. But the two parted ways on how she handled it. By the next day they found that they were still at an impasse on the issue, and agreed to a mini movie fest of Mercedes favorites to take their mind off of her problems.

"Hump" Mercedes half heartedly chucked from her mother's lap, as the male lead of the movie rudely brushed off a call by the best friend of his lost love.

Dorothy sat up a bit to look down into the eyes of her daughter. "What?" inquired.

"Nothing" Mercedes huffed

"No, it's something" her mother pressed "What?"

"It's just" Mercedes relented sitting up "why did he have to be so damn stubborn? I never did understand that about this movie"

"Well" Dorothy reasoned "he was hurt and scared. And she didn't make it easy for him, admitting that she didn't trust him and all" she defended.

"But, he didn't make it easy for her, with all of the things he did" Mercedes shot back in a defensive tone.

"Are we talking about the movie still, or are we back on you and Sam?" Dorothy questioned noticing the edge in her voice.

Mercedes fell back against the couch, knowing the jig was up and that her mother clearly saw the fact that she was more upset about her personal problems with Sam. "It's just" she started, her shoulder slumping forward "if he would have just said what he claims he really wanted, none of this would be an issue. And we wouldn't have ended the way we did."

"Oh, baby girl" Dorothy shook her head, "your father and I did a real job on you with all of our stories. Me probably more them him" she admitted under her breath. "Here is a lifelong tip" she offered turning towards her youngest "Love is not perfect. It never is, never will be."

"I know Mamma" Mercedes rolled her eyes, annoyed to be treated as if she was starry eyed teen.

"No." her mother swiftly cut her off. "Listen to me. There is no perfect love. Love, real love, is nothing like these movies. It's not all big gifts, sweet words, and kissing. Love is the times in between all of that. It's the moments you don't really notice. It's the times when it's hard to hold on, but you do anyway. It's something you can't control or write a script for. It's what that other person does when you're not looking. That is love." Dorothy turned her attention towards the television as a breathless Darius Lovejoy watched as his paramour Nina road off, leaving him unnoticed on a train platform. "She never even knew he did all of that to get her back. It was everything before that brought her back to him."

Mercedes softened, her arms folded across her chest. Dorothy scooted closer to her, bringing her into her body. "And you wouldn't want it any other way. Because if were always perfect you wouldn't notice when it's really good or what you really have."

"I thought you didn't like Sam?" Mercedes eyed skeptically wondering how her mother could so easily grant him the benefit of doubt.

"No" she clarified "I didn't like your arrangement. Because you're worth much more than that" Dorothy reached up, giving her daughter a loving caress. "And I want you to find love. But you have to know when it's real"

"Well how do I know what I have?" Mercedes questioned.

"When you know how you feel without them. If you're perfectly fine, or only a little hurt that they're not around, or the way they made you feel was only superficial, then it wasn't love. But, if you feel like your world is tossed for a loop, or you can't find your way" she continued turning Mercedes head so they were looking directly at each other "Or even worse, it causes you to throw all of your personal fears, and self judgments on the ones you love, or run off for even a chance of a possible taste of that feeling, even if it's an imposter emotion, leaving behind the people who you really love, and really love you? Well..." she trailed off "it was real" she confessed moving strands of Mercedes bangs from her eyes.

In that moment Mercedes understood she was speaking from her own life experience. "Marco?" she questioned sympathetically.

Dorothy just shook her head, a sad smile plastered on her face. "Long before him baby."

Mercedes racked her brain, thinking of which of her many former boy toys, her mother could possibly be eluding to. From what she could remember, her mother never seemed particularly bothered by losing any of them, finding their replacements rather quickly. Honestly there was only one relationship Mercedes remembered her mother being genuinely upset about. Only one that caused Dorothy to stay in bed for days, watching sappy love movies on the television. In fact it was around the time Mercedes started to heavily watch them, as a way to oddly bond with her. "Daddy?" she whispered amazed by her mother's confession.

Dorothy simply blinked, which was the only admission Mercedes needed. She wondered why this was the first time she considered her mother still possibly harboring any feelings for her estranged father, other than hate. She knew that her father shattered her mother's heart, but it still amazed her that she was still feeling the residual effects of it this many years later astounded her. And just how miserable she must have been for so long, attempting to replicate her emotions for one man, with each new suitor, to only be disappointed. Mercedes always viewed her mother's relationship hopping as her reclaiming her independence and her heart one relationship at a time. But with her confession, she finally saw she was an addict after that first high, but falling miserably short every time. She turned her head in enough time to find Darius kissing Nina in a light rain after she went back to his old hangout. She questioned if she could have the nerve to go to Sam in that same manner. Would he even be possibly receptive to it?

Sighing as the credits rolled she turned towards her mother and smiled wearily sweetly asking "how about another one?" And although they cued up a fresh new movie, Mercedes attention was elsewhere as she contemplated just how bad she felt without Sam, and if she, like her mother, would have the ability to feel that way for possibly years to come.