Standard Disclaimer: None of this story originally Wild Night by Mari Carr or Glee situations and characters belong to me. This is the end my friends. Please continue to read and support all Samcedes fanfiction writers so they will continue to post good stories. It is a gift that they give which is priceless which is the time it takes to write and be brave to open up yourself to positive and negative feedback. Thanks to all of those posting for the month of December that I could see on the page when I checked to see if my stories were being loaded: Twrites, Arwenforlife, Perfectromanceinmind, Keshbeast, MercyEvans, mistandbronte, Da'Khari, JumpingJill909, my new addition to the fam, Melaninmami, and xoxoPrincessxoxo, and romyr4. I hope to have some time to read all your contributions and respond, but I am working on my angst piece now which I will be posting after Saturday which will take a while to complete. Hopefully it will serve as catharsis, and I will be able to start the New Year no longer having to use my super power and let go of being Ms. D-Nial. To all those who read, reviewed, and followed, I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

Chapter Eleven

Sam returned to the pub…begrudgingly.

He was willing to fight for Mercedes's heart, and he'd used the last two weeks to finalize his plan to come up with what he'd considered an ironclad defense of them being together. He knew Mercedes's only defense would be the fact they'd only been an official couple less than a month.

So, he'd started a list of all the ways he could counter that argument. And he sort of thought he'd nailed it.

Until she'd looked at him with those sad, scared brown Bambi eyes and asked him for time to think.

He'd always thought himself made of pretty stern stuff, able to stand firm when he knew he was right, but dammit if she hadn't slayed him with one look.

She could have asked him to build a time machine to go back in time to force her father to do right by her and he would have sold his soul to do this.

"What are you doing here?" Steven asked as he dropped down onto a stool at the bar.

"I live here."

Steven didn't respond to the sarcasm. Instead, he poured Sam a pint of his favorite beer and slid it in front of him.

His twin waited until Sam took a long swig, sucking down nearly half the beer, before he started the questioning. "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I'm the one who screwed up?"

Steven grinned. "I don't assume anything. I have seen this look on your face plenty of times to know when you have screwed something up."

"I only told her we were living together and dating."

Steven gave him a funny look. "She didn't know that?"

Sam grimaced. "It's Mercedes. She didn't want to acknowledge it."

It spoke to the level of Steven and Mercedes's friendship that he not only understood that statement but found it amusing. "She is really the best. Once she is committed to something, she is all in to the end. That's my Cedes. You are a lucky bastard to have a chance with her. "

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Thought we'd already discussed this and agreed that she was my Mercedes."

"You are my brother, my twin, and I have to love you because we are kin, but she is more than my best friend. She is my sister. If you hurt her, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life. She is too important to me to see you treat her like you have treated women in the past. So, you need to be sure that you have earned the right and continue to have the right to call her your Mercedes. She is the happiest I have ever seen her now, so I haven't been giving you any grief. The way she looks at you and shares secrets with you before she shares them with me let's me know she trusts you. However, she is not a possession, and you better make sure you treat her like I treated De'Wanda, like the queen she is, or I will get Pop and Pop Pop to take turns with me in beating the breaks off of you. You know they will for her. They love her as much as I do. She doesn't need you to use and abuse, but to treasure, support, protect, and challenge her to be the best that she can be. If you can't do those things, then you need to let her go. Because I will choose her if you fuck this up, and she will continue to be my Mercedes."

Marley, who was sitting at the end of the bar, tapping away on her keyboard, paused and looked up at that. The woman was a master eavesdropper, though Sam could never quite figure out how she could write and listen to all the conversations happening at the pub at the same time.

Sam caught her eye and then his brother's. "I was wondering when and if I would ever get the talk from you. I have been stupid by going along with my plan of allowing her to think it is about sex when I knew since that blackout that it was more than sex. I love everything about her. She was your best friend, and I am sorry to say bro, but she has become mine. She and I are eerily similar and that causes us to be iron sharpening iron, but I would die for her, and I know that I want to marry her and make her dreams come true. She's my Mercedes now and she will always be my Mercedes, just like she let you go when you married De'Wanda, you are going to have to let her go as your very best friend and just embrace her as your sister which she has been all of our lives. Your sister but never mine thank God she never friend-zoned me like she did you," he asserted feeling the need to stress that point to anyone and everyone.

"As long as we understand each bro," Steven said in a low tone, leaning on the counter. "Now why are you here with your self-imposed problems? I thought things between you and Mercedes were good. Why would she be so resistant to the concept of dating you if you aren't being a bastard to her?"

"You know about her baby plans." Mercedes had pulled Steven away after dessert at Thanksgiving, the two of them finally talking for ages about her hopes for the future and what she'd planned to do.

Steven nodded and whispered. "She is still planning on artificial insemination? And the timeline?"

Sam sighed and said this time for Steven's ears only. "Yeah. I told her it was time for us to figure some crap out since she's set this holiday break as go time."

"Did you ask for more time?"

Sam shook his head still whispering. "At first. But I knew she wouldn't go for it. So I asked to be the father."

"Wow." Steven's amazement didn't really match the huge-ass grin on his face. "Talk about taking an abrupt left turn. Weren't you the guy who wasn't tying himself down to just one woman until he was at least forty?"

"You and I both know that was me talking out my ass. Trying to make myself feel better because love was eluding me."

"And Mercedes rejected your offer?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. At first. Then…"

"Let me guess, you went full lawyer on her ass and started wearing her down with all your arguments."

Sam leaned back in his chair, scowling and raising his voice. "I simply reminded her that there was precious little she didn't know about me. I don't know why she thinks we need any more time to," Sam finger-quoted, "'get to know each other.' Jesus. We've known each other our whole lives. What else is there to learn?"

Steven lifted his hands in surrender as Sam became more impassioned with each word. "Hey, Bro. Listen. I'm on your side. I think you and Mercedes are perfect for each other. But the truth is she's stubborn and headstrong, and once she's made up her mind about something, it's hard for her to back away from it. She's had this single-mom plan swimming around in her brain for the better part of a year. She's made the lists, the plans, and studied the pros and cons. Then, the second she takes the leap and sets things in motion, you crawl in bed with her in the middle of a blackout and boom! Everything is tossed on its ear."

"I'm not trying to talk her out of having a baby. I just want it to be our baby." Sam lowered his voice and finished his drink.

Steven whispered to his brother as he refilled his drink. "The thing is…Mercedes is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. She is convinced of this and there is no changing her mind.

Sam recognized the truth in that statement. Especially when he recalled her comment that everyone leaves eventually.

He considered those words from her perspective because he'd never heard her say anything with such outright assurance, and such…pain.

That was when he realized it wasn't everyone who had always walked away from her.

It was just one person.

Her dad hadn't just left her mom. He'd left Mercedes. The asshole had been in town a few months ago and hadn't even bothered to call his daughter.

Sam had assumed that didn't bother her because she'd never let on that it did. But he could see now that her pride wouldn't let her reveal her feelings about the matter.

Her dad's departure had hurt her, and he wasn't sure Mercedes had ever faced up to it.

"I'm not her dad," Sam said. "I wouldn't leave her. Wouldn't leave our kids."

"And I'm sure Mercedes knows that. Deep down inside. But she's had precious little luck with love, so I have no doubt you dropped those three little words on her and she freaked out." Steven said raising his voice unintentionally.

Sam froze. "Damn," he muttered.

Steven frowned. "Wait—you said them, right?"

Sam shook his head not caring who heard and said, "No. I…I said everything else."

Marley stopped typing and looked at him in disbelief. "You haven't romanced her and told her that you loved her?"

"I should have done that," Sam moaned, realizing he'd dropped the ball and should have told her that first instead of presenting his case on why she should chose him.

"Dude," Steven said. "You should have led with that."

Sam ran his hand through his hair. "I'm an idiot."

"What the hell are you still doing here, go back and tell her," Steven said.

Sam nodded, then glanced at Marley. She was a romance writer who should be able to give him good advice.

"She asked for time to think, but she doesn't have all the facts. So…I should go back tonight, right?"

"What do you think?" Marley asked.

"I'm going back."

She laughed. "Good call. I think it's safe to say you've hit the point in this romance where the hero tells the heroine he loves her, and they both get to live happily ever after."

"Hell. Yeah. Should I do a big gesture like lighting a billion candles and give her expensive jewelry after playing my guitar and singing an original song that I have composed to express my love for her?"

Marley rolled her eyes. "No. I'm a fan of the words and honesty just like she is. Save the gestures for when you mess up like I know you will. Just go, you silly buffoon."

Sam stood and went to give her a hug. "Thanks for the advice."

"Good luck," Steven called out as Sam headed back out the door he'd only entered twenty minutes earlier.

Mercedes had returned to the couch two seconds after Sam left, wishing she could channel her previous zombie state. That was an easier state of mind than her present one.

Too many things were bombarding her.

She hadn't realized how much her dad's departure had bothered until her argument with Sam. She'd been pissed off ever since learning he'd been in town recently and he hadn't visited, hadn't called to see if she wanted to do something with him. She would have met him for a lousy ten-minute chat over a cup of coffee…if he'd asked.

But he hadn't. And as much as it bugged her to admit it, that hurt.

Mercedes leaned her head back. She really thought she'd gotten to a point where her parents couldn't hurt her anymore. Annoy her? Yes. Embarrass her? Absolutely. But hurt her? No.

She was suddenly awash in feelings she had no clue how to deal with—and it occurred to her that what she really wanted was to talk to Sam about it.

Sam. Who wanted a relationship with her. A long-term, let's-make-babies relationship.

No one had ever wanted that with her. She was always the one to break up a relationship. Not trusting her heart with any man and not willing to face the rejection she felt after her father left and stopped being willing to deal with her mother to maintain their relationship. She had let no one close enough to her to hurt her.

Like, no one.

Ever.

She'd dated so many here-one-day-gone-the-next guys, she hadn't even known how to respond to Sam's suggestion. Because it had taken her slightly off guard and surprised her. Even when it shouldn't have.

"Good Lord, I'm the world's biggest idiot," she muttered.

Molly, who'd been curled up in a ball in her lap, glanced up as she spoke, then promptly went right back to sleep.

Sam said she knew him…and he was right. She did.

Which meant she knew he was perfect for her.

Sam Evans, her lifelong frenemy, was the man of her dreams. And instead of telling him that, she'd been a complete tool and told him she needed time.

Time for what?

She picked up Molly, placing her on the cushion next to her and standing up, looking around the living room for her shoes. She was going over to the pub and she was going to—

She heard a key in the door of her apartment and immediately fought to school her features, to hide the smile fighting to erupt.

Sam was here. He'd come back.

He stepped inside, pausing when he found her standing there.

"Jesus, Sam. It hasn't even been an hour," she joked, so happy it was taking everything she had not to run across the room and leap into his arms.

She expected him to smile, but he didn't. In fact, he looked far too serious.

Damn, damn, damn. Had she screwed things up by asking for time? Had she hurt his feelings by rebuffing him?

"Sam—" She started to apologize, anxious to set things straight as quickly as possible.

He raised his hand to cut her off. "No. Wait. I had to come back because I realized there was something you don't know about me. Something I didn't tell you."

Oh Lord. Here it was. She should have known better, should have realized this was all too good to be true. She'd pushed Sam away and he'd wised up already, discovered a reason why this wouldn't work.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. If he told her he didn't want to see her anymore, she wasn't sure she could take it. She'd thought her heart had been broken a few times over the years when she allowed a man to get close enough to her but then felt him pulling away and she would end the relationship before he could because she had to do the rejecting, but she knew now her heart had never even been bruised.

"What is it?" she asked, hating how thin her voice was, how panicked she sounded.

Sam walked over to her, grasping her hands in his. "I…" She watched as he took a deep breath. "I'm going to say something to you that I have never told another woman in my life."

"Okay," she whispered.

"I love you with every fiber of my being, Mercedes."

She gasped, but he wasn't finished.

"No. It's more than that. I'm in love with you. Completely, ridiculously, hopelessly in love with you."

Her heart, which had previously been thudding so hard she'd had trouble hearing, suddenly stopped beating. "Hopelessly?"

He nodded. "It would appear…you're my one, my soul mate, my heart beat, and I have been too stupid to show you with romance and tender loving care that I am hopelessly devoted to you."

She laughed. "You know, I don't know if it's hopeless devotion. But…" Her words got wobbly, and she felt tears forming in her eyes. "But with you…Good Lord. I'm your soul mate. Your chosen one," she said, repeating the words she simply couldn't believe.

He stepped closer to her, reaching up to cup her face, to wipe away the tears with his thumbs. "Mercedes," he whispered.

"I'm totally in love with you too."

He couldn't help but to kiss her.

When they parted, she grinned. "You have been drinking."

"I went to the pub and bared my soul, and Stevie and Marley spotted the flaw in my previous arguments. Said I left out the most important part."

"They were right."

"Well," Sam said, turning toward the door. "I know you need time, so I guess I'll just—"

She laughed. "Sam?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I was on my way back to the pub."

"You were?" Mercedes asked flirtatiously before continuing. "You know. I don't need time. At all."

Sam crossed his arms. "No? Are you sure?"

"What do you think?"

It was two days after they had their come to Jesus talk. And they knew that she was his. He was hers. They were in love. They'd had the talk. Said all the words that they needed to say and simply went to bed for the first time without even thinking about sex.

Mercedes was surprised when she had come from her last day of school in December to find that Sam had lit candles and had a bubble bath waiting for her with nonalcoholic wine. Candles surrounded her bathtub and her favorite songs were playing softly. Sam only had on green boxer shorts and looked sexy as hell as he catered to her before her bath and after with a massage that began with her feet and ended with him moisturizing her body and her dressing in the first clothing he'd ever bought for her a red satin nightgown with a matching robe. They had eaten a candlelit dinner that Sam's Aunt Riley had coached him in preparing while Sam had put on his emerald robe after her bath. They looked like a Christmas ad.

After dinner, Sam asked her if she was sure and if she was ready for them to try to create a baby out of an expression of their love. Mercedes had temporarily forgotten that she had chosen her holiday break as the time that she wanted to try to get pregnant. She had been so love drunk that even her students during their Christmas party cupcake sugar high had not driven her bat shit crazy. She had been tired but so in love it was if she had been walking on air and coming home to Sam being all romantic had temporarily made her forget her plans of conception. All she could do was nod head and gasp in surprise as he fireman lifted her, took her to her bedroom, and gently placed her on her bed.

"I love you," he said, feeling the need to repeat those words to her a million times. Not because she needed to hear them but because he needed to say them.

Mercedes ran her fingers over his cheek, stroking his beard. "Ditto."

He played with her breasts, alternating between sucking, licking, and nipping until she was squirming beneath him.

"Sam," she breathed. "Please."

"Not yet," he murmured, moving even lower. He pressed on the insides of her knees, opening her more fully for him as he knelt between her outstretched legs. Her back arched when he placed his first open-mouthed kiss on her clit.

"Oh hell," she said. "So good. Too Good!"

He flattened his tongue against the tiny nub, pushing more firmly, loving the way Mercedes slowly came apart..

Sam increased the tempo of his tongue against her clit as he thrust inside her with two fingers, pumping faster with each return until Mercedes stiffened for that one brief second, her mouth open in a silent scream, before her body trembled with her orgasm.

She cried out his name then, and he was sure he'd never heard a better sound in his life.

He loved nothing more than giving her pleasure he thought with a grin as he felt the aftershocks of her climax, her inner muscles clenching against his fingers as he withdrew them.

Mercedes was still struggling to catch her breath when he stripped them of their clothing and crawled back over her body to kiss her once more. Her face was flushed. She was hands down the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

It took everything he had not to thrust into her, to take her with all the passion and need she inspired, but tonight, this moment, it was too important. Too special.

After several minutes of kissing, of sharing the same sweet air, Sam forced his lips away from hers. His erection lay thick and hard against her stomach. He looked at her, waiting until Mercedes's eyes slowly drifted open, and then even longer, until she was able to focus, her wits returning.

Sam brushed her cheek with his thumb, the other hand moving lower, gripping his cock until he'd placed the head of it at her body.

He didn't move, waiting.

Mercedes was still. Too still.

Both of them were cognizant of the fact he wasn't wearing a condom, that what happened next would change both of their lives forever.

"Breathe," he whispered.

She gave him an adorable little grin, accompanied by one of those amused eyerolls she seemed to reserve just for him. "Need instructions?" she teased when he made no move to push inside.

He chuckled. "Are you ready to—"

"I swear to sweet Jesus," she interjected, "if you say 'transfer the funds' or some other ridiculous crap like that, I will cut your penis off right now."

Sam was holding himself above her on his elbows, his laughter shaking both of them as they lay chest to breasts on the bed. "I was going to say, are you ready to make our baby? I want a little girl, Cedes. A curly haired brunette just like you." He paused before being brave enough to touch a curl. "With my good looks, of course."

She gave him a sweet smile he instantly distrusted. "And I want a little boy who looks just like a darker haired deeply tan version of the most handsome man in the world...Stevie."

"I think I can do that," he joked. They laughed briefly…until he pressed inside just an inch. Then, once again, he was overwhelmed by all the emotions this beautiful, intelligent, headstrong, smart-ass of a woman inspired in him.

"I love you so much," he whispered as he thrust in, one long, slow glide. It felt so unbelievably good. He'd never taken a woman without a condom. So, she was his first in this aspect.

Once he was seated to the hilt, he paused for just a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control. This wouldn't take long, but he was bound and determined he wouldn't go down alone.

He placed his forehead against hers, both of them closing their eyes briefly. Then he shifted his hips and, for the first time in his life, he made love to and was loved by a woman, to the woman…the friend, the frenemy who'd claimed his heart, hook, line, and sinker.

They moved together, finding their rhythm naturally. Her body was made for his, and his for hers. Mercedes's hands roamed over his shoulders, along the top of his arms, lightly scratching him, leaving her marks, as she whispered his name.

"Sam. I love you. Love you so much…"

Her words prodded him on. He needed more. Needed everything.

She was everything.

"I…I'm," she chanted on a breath, letting him know she was there. She was ready.

"Me too," he said, reaching between them to stroke her clit which drove her over the cliff, her back arching.

Her center clenched tightly against his cock, and Sam saw stars. Honest-to-God stars.

He came suddenly. "My heartbeat. My love. My Mercedes. Yes!"

It was agony and blinding bliss. He jerked, filling her, deafened by white noise and overwhelmed by the most intense pleasure he'd ever experienced.

By the time Sam returned to his senses, he was lying on his side, next to her, and Mercedes was facing him, stroking his cheek, his beard with the back of her fingers.

She smiled. "You came inside me," she whispered, sounding happier than he'd ever heard her in his life.

Sam couldn't contain his own grin. "I did." Then he remembered something else. "Call Anthony. Tell him you don't need his help anymore."

"I already did. He was actually relieved since things with him and Penny have gotten pretty hot and heavy."

"When did you call him?" he asked.

"About three minutes after you left two days ago."

"It took you three minutes?!" he said, acting appalled that it had taken her that long.

She raised the hand, touching his cheek in surrender. "I couldn't find my phone. It had fallen between the couch cushions."

"You're forgiven then." Sam shifted closer to her. They were already nearly nose to nose, but it wasn't enough for him. "We might have made a baby tonight, Cedes."

"How cool would that be?"

"You're going to be an amazing mom."

"And you're going to be the world's greatest dad. Way better than mine. That's for sure."

"I'm never going to leave you like he did, Mercedes."

"Sam…" She started to shake her head, and he was worried that she was unable to believe his words as the truth. He understood why, but he still felt the need to reassure her.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Her lowered gaze raised to his.

"I'm never going to leave you."

He saw the hope buried deep in her eyes. "I know that," she admitted. "I know you."

"I know you're upset that he didn't call when he was in town."

She nodded slowly. "I can't understand why…" She shrugged one shoulder. "I always thought he stopped visiting, stopped calling because he didn't want to deal with my mom, but…"

Sam lifted her head with his finger under her chin. "I'm sorry."

She shook off the heaviness, smiling at him. If there was one thing about Mercedes, the woman had a heck of a rebound. "It's okay. I sort of secretly stole your dad and made him mine years ago anyway."

"Not sure that was much of a secret," he joked. "You know, Dad would have kept having kids, would have kept going until he had a little girl—he said he always wanted a daughter—but Mom claimed chasing hellion twin boys broke her. You filled that void for him, too."

He knew he'd found the words to make her feel better when her face lit up. "You think so?"

He nodded.

"I'd give you my mom too, but I think you're covered in that area," he added.

Mercedes gave him a rueful grin. "Yeah. I think I have enough mother's love to last me until the end of time. I know I bitch about Roz a lot—"

"What?" Sam pretended to be shocked. "No."

"She doubled-down on the insane tiger mom parenting after my dad left. I'm starting to understand why."

"Overcompensating?" he asked.

"Over-everything. But I know what my mom does is out of love for me. Sometimes I worry…" She didn't finish the thought, but he knew where her fears were leading.

"Genetics are not insurmountable, you know. You can be any kind of mother you want to be."

"I know. It's just…what if I go too far the other way? What if, in my attempt to not be crazy overbearing like my mom, I don't do enough for my kids?"

"That's what I'm here for. I'll keep you on the straight and narrow. And you'll do the same for me. We're in this together."

"Together," she repeated, as if she was trying out the sound of it. He and Mercedes had both spent too many years as single units, independent people who answered only to themselves. It would probably take both of them some time to get a little less set in their ways. He couldn't wait to start.

In fact…

He gripped her waist and pulled her hips to his, loving the way she swung one leg over him. "Marry me."

She lifted her head from the pillow. "Was that a question or a demand?"

Sam moved his hand from her waist to her ass, gripping it tightly, holding her even closer. "Both," he murmured against her lips, kissing her. "I need you to marry me, Mercedes. Need you to be my wife. I need it more than air."

She kissed him back. "You know, somehow you've managed to do all of this backwards. Lovers to friends, living together to dating, babies to marriage. You've made a mess of the whole thing, Mr. Big Stuff," she teased.

"Oh, I did, did I? Just me. Alone. Thanks for clarifying that." He tickled her until she cried uncle, then gave her another kiss. He was addicted to her lips. When he pulled away, he realized she hadn't responded. "You still haven't answered my question."

"I still haven't heard a question."

He playfully bit her shoulder. "You love to make me work for it, don't you?"

"It's what makes life worth living."

"Will you make me the happiest man in the universe? Will you marry me, Mercedes? Have my babies, love me forever, and drive me crazy for the rest of my life?"

She pretended to consider, acting as if it was a really hard decision.

"Bear in mind, I own a lot of neckties, and I would have no trouble introducing you to bondage and tying you to this bed and depositing my sperm funds into you until you agree."

"Wow only you could turn a romantic proposal until a reason for me to doubt my sanity. I was going to say yes, but I'm suddenly thinking I might need more convincing to be persuaded to marry a lunatic like you. Sam Evans, you are crazy."

He smiled. "Crazy about you." He then narrowed his eyes and said, "Say yes and I'll still tie you up and impregnate you with twins even though they are supposed to skip a generation."

"Yes," She paused and grinned up at him, "But only if you follow through with gifting me with twins."

"I will die trying. Marry me soon."

She rolled her eyes heavenward. "Good Lord, you're a demanding ass."

"Soon, Mercedes," he stressed. "Very soon."

"Fine. Soon."

Epilogue

"Hey, Pop Pop," Sam said, peeking his head in through his grandfather's open bedroom door.

Pop Pop glanced up from the romance novel he was reading, tucking it under the pillow with a guilty grin. The entire family was aware of his penchant for steamy romance novels that Bubbles loaned him, even though Pop Pop insisted he was reading mysteries and thrillers.

"Well, this is a nice surprise. What brings you here, lad?" Pop Pop stood up and gestured to the small sitting area in his room. Sam took one chair, his grandfather the other.

"Mercedes had her sonogram today. I wanted to come by and tell you…" Sam paused, grinning, still struggling to believe the news himself. "Twins. She's having twins."

Pop Pop's eyes lit up and he clapped his hands together. "Bless my soul. Twins! That's wonderful news."

"Yeah. Mercedes's over the moon. I've never seen her so happy."

"And you?"

Sam's smile grew wider. "Dream come true."

"It is indeed. Oh," Pop Pop stood up again, "I almost forgot. I wanted to show you something."

Sam rose and followed his grandfather to the special wall. One entire wall of his bedroom was covered with photographs of the family, each member represented.

The photographs changed from time to time, based only on Pop Pop's whims, rather than to mark celebrations or special occasions. Unlike most people, he didn't frame posed senior portraits or wedding photos. All of Pop Pop's pictures were candids; brief moments in time that, according to Pop Pop, captured the essence of the person photographed.

Pop Pop raised his finger and pointed to Sam's frame. For the past several years, it had been a picture of Sam sitting at the pub, a pint in front of him as he talked to Steven one day after work. He'd been wearing a suit, his tie loosened, and he was kicked back, relaxed, smiling. He'd asked Pop Pop at the time why he'd chosen it. After all, it was a simple photo that seemed to show very little. Just him at the bar.

Pop Pop insisted it was the perfect photograph. That he saw an intelligent, family-oriented man who was comfortable in his own skin, self-assured, successful, and on the brink of greatness.

Sam hadn't known how to respond at the time, but when he'd looked at the picture again, he'd seen it through his grandfather's loving eyes, and it suddenly hadn't felt so simple after all.

This time, the picture was different.

"Where did you get that?" Sam asked, somewhat surprised to see that Pop Pop hadn't updated his photo with a current picture of him and Mercedes. There would have been plenty to choose from. He could have used the one of the two of them at Christmas, announcing their engagement. Or one of the small wedding ceremony they'd held at the pub in January. Or even one of the two of them revealing that Mercedes was pregnant at a family dinner on Valentine's Day.

Instead, Pop Pop had somehow found an old photograph of him and Mercedes, sitting in his parents' backyard at a summer picnic. He remembered the day well because they'd just graduated from high school the week before, and they were both excited and ready to head off to college.

Mercedes was laughing and talking to him—with her hands flying, of course, one of which held a hot dog. Sam was sitting next to her. She had ketchup on her mouth, and he'd reached over to wipe it off with his finger.

For nearly fifteen years, the picture had been relegated to a slot in one of his mom's countless photo albums, forgotten.

Sam didn't have to ask why Pop Pop had chosen it. The answer was written right there in Sam's eighteen-year-old eyes. His younger self was grinning like a fool…and looking at Mercedes as if she hung the moon.

He couldn't ever recall consciously thinking of her that way, but had he?

Lord knew he looked at her like that now. Every freaking second of the day.

She'd become his world, and his only regret in life was that the stupid teenager in this photo hadn't leaned forward and wiped that ketchup away with his tongue…followed by a kiss.

"So many wasted years," he murmured.

"Oh no, son. That's not what I see at all. I see two headstrong, stubborn, independent people who had a lot of life to live before they could see and truly appreciate what they'd found. This moment…it was just the beginning of your story. An epic tale."

"Complete with a blackout blessing that resulted in a happy marriage and soon to be babies."

Pop Pop laughed. "As well as laughter, friendship, and love. The best kind of story. Because it has a happy ending."

"I love the picture." They both looked at it for a moment longer before returning to their chairs.

"Twins," Pop Pop said quietly. Like Sam, it seemed as if the only way for Pop Pop to truly believe it was to say the word over and over a few thousand times. It still hadn't sunk in for Sam either. It was just too good to be true.

"So," Pop Pop said. "It sounds like your father's prayers for you when you were a teenager have come true."

Sam tilted his head, curious. "Prayers?"

"He always said he hoped you had children just like you," Pop Pop said with a wink. "I think with you and Mercedes being so much alike. It is a given that your father's prayers for you are going to come to be realized.

Sam laughed. "I think you and I both know that wasn't a prayer, Pop Pop. It was a curse."

Pop Pop reached out and patted Sam's hand. "And you and I both know…it's not."

"You're right. I will love them unconditionally like you and my dad have loved me like I love their mother like you loved Grandma Sunday and Dad loves my Mom.

"Yes, sir my boy, you have finally figured out the secret to a fulfilled life, and I pray that you and my darling girl and your kids will one day feel the joy I feel now."

The End