CHAPTER 1
SUMMARY - Mercedes moves to a new town for a fresh start after a tragedy befalls her in Lima. She rents an apartment from Sam in an old house he's renovating. She and Sam slowly become friends and perhaps something more while dealing with their issues.
RATING – Mature
WARNING – Mild cursing, depressing themes, description of violent event
NEW BEGINNINGS
"So what do you think, Abby?" Mercedes said to her daughter as they drove up to the old two-story Victorian style house with gingerbread trimming, a turret roof and peeling blue paint. "You think you might like living here?"
Abby looked up at her mother and shook her head. Then she got out her pink notepad and wrote a note, holding it up for her to see. Mercedes read it out loud:
I want to go home.
Mercedes sighed and turned off the engine, shaking her head. How could she make this child understand that home wasn't home anymore? The 8-year old girl was as stubborn as her father, hell bent on getting her way.
"Don't be like that," Mercedes said, "Let's look at the apartment anyway."
Abby folded her arms and looked away from her mother. Mercedes touched her daughter's curly Afro, patting it down gently.
"Staying in Lima won't bring him back," she said.
Abby stared down at her hands, ignoring Mercedes' touch; she kept shaking her head and soon the tears came. Then she wrote another note.
Daddy is in Lima
Mercedes decided not to argue and let her cry for few more minutes before unlocking the car door and getting out with Abby sulking behind her, dragging her feet against the frozen, dead grass. The house looked like it needed some repairs, but it held a certain charm, or maybe she liked it because it was cheap. They walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. It was a cold, bleak day, with gray skies and biting cold that seep through their heavy winter coats. Mercedes reached down and fixed Abby's multicolored scarf, securing it around her neck; she was getting over a bad cold and would hate to see her get sick again. They waited and no one came to the door, so she rang the doorbell again. This time she heard footsteps and the door finally opened. A handsome man with thick lips and floppy blond hair stood before them smiling, his green eyes animated. He wore a paint splattered plaid shirt and faded jeans.
"Are you Mercedes?"
"Yes, we spoke on the phone earlier, and you're Sam?"
"Right, come on in. I'll show you the apartment upstairs. Sorry for the mess but I'm trying to get my den painted."
"That's ok."
Sam pointed to Abby.
"And who are you, little lady?"
Abby stared at the ground. Mercedes put a protective arm around her.
"This is my daughter Abby."
Sam looked at them for a moment, and then opened the door wider letting them inside. They stood in a dimly lit hallway at the bottom of the stairs.
"Follow me," he said, walking up the creaking stairs. The air smelled like burning candles and polished wood. The walls were painted a soft yellow. When they got to the top of the stairs, Sam fished around in his pockets and pulled out the keys.
"Hope you like it," he said, as he unlocked the door.
Once they were inside, Mercedes was pleased to see that it was actually a nice little apartment. Sam gave them a brief tour.
"Like I said, it's furnished. I got most of it from Ikea, but it's decent."
Mercedes walked around the living room, lightly touching the blue couch and loveseat and admired the glass coffee table. Blue lace curtains hung in the window. Abby went to the window and stared outside.
"The view is nice too," Sam said, walking over to where Abby stood, "You get to see the woods, and that over there," he said pointing to a large oak tree, "is my favorite tree."
Abby moved away from the window.
"She's shy," Mercedes said.
Sam smiled and showed them the two bedrooms.
Each room was modestly furnished. The smaller bedroom had a twin bed, but the master bedroom had a queen-sized bed. The bathroom was bright blue with an old-fashioned tub with gold claw feet.
"I couldn't part with the tub, and it doubles as a shower," he said, pointing to the showerhead.
"And where's the half bathroom?" Mercedes asked.
"Oops, I forgot to show you, it's right near the front door."
"I thought that was a closet."
"Yeah most people do."
He took them to the kitchen that also had a laundry closet with a stackable washer and dryer, marble countertops and brand new stainless steel appliances.
Mercedes leaned against the counter as Sam stood watching her from the doorway.
"Are you taking it?"
Mercedes smiled.
"I'll take it."
Abby stood in the middle of the kitchen, shaking her head. She wrote a note, handing it to Mercedes.
Take me home.
Sam looked at them confused. Mercedes shoved the note into her pocket.
"Abby, we'll talk about this later."
"You can move in any time you want"
"How about Friday?"
"Works for me."
"Good, I'll see you then."
Mercedes took Abby by the hand and walked out of the kitchen, as they made their way to the front door, Abby pointed to the half bathroom.
"Ok," Mercedes said.
She unzipped Abby's coat and unwound her scarf as her daughter waited patiently. Mercedes looked down into Abby's mocha-brown face and saw her father's eyes staring back at her. Memories of him haunted her at every turn and it didn't help that Abby was such a tomboy. On that particular day, she wore denim overalls, a bright red sweater and a tool belt with screwdrivers and a small hammer hung around her waist.
"That's a cool belt," Sam said.
Abby ignored him and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Mercedes sat down on the couch. She knew Abby was in the bathroom crying and the thought made her cry too. She couldn't take away her baby's tears no matter how hard she tried. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed for the first time in days. Sam sat down beside her.
"Are you ok?"
Mercedes continued to cry, feeling embarrassed at her outburst, but everything was too much. Sam put his arm around her.
"It's alright," he soothed.
"I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about."
Quickly, she stood up, wiping her face with her hands. Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a few Pizza Hut napkins.
"Leftover from lunch," he said, handing them to her.
Mercedes laughed, it was such an odd thing to do, helping a damsel in distress with fast food napkins, but nothing about her life had ever been normal.
"Thanks."
"How about some hot cocoa?"
Mercedes wiped her cheeks. Normally, she would've said no, but right now, a hot drink on a cold, dismal day sounded wonderful.
"Ok."
The bathroom door creaked open and Abby stood there with puffy red eyes and a solemn expression.
"Abby, we're going downstairs for some hot cocoa," Mercedes said.
Abby nodded and Mercedes took her hand. Together they walked down the stairs with Sam behind them. At the bottom of the stairs they followed Sam down a long hallway and made a right, where his apartment was located; he unlocked his door and apologized profusely for his messy home.
"I'm a lousy housekeeper, trying to get better though."
Mercedes looked around at the stacks of cardboard boxes and dusty furniture. It appeared he hadn't unpacked all of his belongings and Mercedes wondered why. A few framed posters for a place called the Golly Wow Tea Shop were propped against the walls. One of the posters was a blown up newspaper article with a picture of Sam and a pretty blonde woman, their arms wrapped around each other. The headline read: Golly Wow Tea Shop Opens in Bethel Rock. Two tabby cats were curled up on the floral printed couch. They looked up at Mercedes, and yawned then promptly went back to sleep.
"That's George and Gracie," Sam said, "Come on, I cleaned my kitchen this morning."
The kitchen was spotless. The bright yellow stove shined, the kitchen table was polished and even the white-tiled floor looked freshly waxed. Sam pulled out a chair for each of them.
"Take a load off," he said, "Do you guys want marshmallows?"
"We'll take it plain," Mercedes said, "How long have you lived here?"
Sam opened the cupboard and pulled out several silver canisters and three black mugs, placing them on the counter.
"About a month," he said and went to the fridge and took out a gallon of milk, "Do you want dark or milk chocolate, or maybe salted caramel?"
"What is this? Starbucks?" Mercedes teased, "Just plain old hot chocolate."
Sam smiled and poured the milk into a pot on the stove, and turned on the burner.
"I like a variety."
"You did a great job with the apartment upstairs," Mercedes said, trying to make conversation; she felt vulnerable and exposed. Just a few moments ago she was sobbing in front of this man and now he was making her cocoa.
"Thanks, I tried to keep it simple."
Abby wrote Mercedes a note and slid it across the table.
I want to pet the cats
"Is it ok if she pets your cats?"
"Sure."
Abby left the kitchen and went into the living room, leaving Mercedes and Sam alone.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Sam asked her as he stirred the milk.
"I'm fine. I'm sorry for breaking down like that. I just… I don't know."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I want to escape."
Sam nodded.
"I know the feeling."
Mercedes took off her coat and scarf since the kitchen was so warm and cozy. Sam opened the cupboard again and took out a small jar filled with fine, red threads. He took a few threads out and crushed them between two spoons and then put the red powder into one of the mugs.
"What's that?" Mercedes asked.
"Saffron. I like it in my cocoa."
"That's different."
He put the cocoa powder into each cup and then filled them with the milk, stirring them carefully. He took the mugs and sat them on the table.
"Here you are."
"Abby!" Mercedes called out, "The cocoa is ready."
Abby came into the kitchen, picked up a mug, and pointed to the living room.
"Ok," Mercedes said, kissing Abby's forehead, "You can sit with the cats, just be careful."
"I guess they won her over," Sam said once Abby was gone again.
"She loves animals."
"Well, she can come by anytime if she wants to visit them."
Mercedes smiled and sipped her cocoa. It was the best she had ever tasted in her life.
"This is delicious; I know it's not Swiss Miss," she said.
Sam laughed.
"No, we used to sell it in our shop. My special blend."
"You're not in business any more?"
"I'm going in a new direction," Sam said, his eyes looked sad for a moment, and Mercedes changed the subject.
"Bethel Rock seems like a nice town."
"It is," he paused and stared at her for a second then said, "I think you'll like it."
They sat in a comfortable silence, reserved for people who had known each other for years as opposed to a few hours like she and Sam; which puzzled her but she didn't think about it too hard; instead she enjoyed the peaceful stillness surrounding them. After a while, Abby came into the kitchen and put her empty mug in the sink. Just as she walked away, one of the hinges on the cupboard door underneath the sink came loose and the door hung precariously like a crooked painting. Abby sat on the floor, took her screwdriver off of her tool belt and began screwing the hinge back in place.
"Oh, Abby you don't have to –" Sam began to say, but Mercedes put her hand on his arm, leaning over she whispered in his ear:
"Let her do it. Please."
Sam nodded and watched Abby fix the hinge in a matter of minutes. When she was done, she got up, and looked over at him, waiting for his reaction. Mercedes spoke first.
"That was very nice of you sweetie, you did a good job."
"Yes, thank you," Sam said, "I should hire you as my handyman."
Abby didn't smile. She merely nodded her head and went back into the living room.
Mercedes finished her hot cocoa.
"It's getting late. We should go," she said as she stood up. Then Sam reached for her hand.
"I'm here if you ever need to talk."
"Thank you."
He gazed at her for a moment before releasing her hand. Mercedes fumbled with her coat, and Sam helped her put it on. Some down feathers from the coat drifted into the air.
"Hiding something?" Sam said with a half-smile.
Mercedes chuckled as she put on her gloves.
"It's down."
"Yeah," he said, catching a few feathers and handing them to her.
Once Abby was bundled up, Sam walked them to the car. The air felt colder than before and Mercedes shivered.
"Are you sure you're ok to drive?" Sam asked.
Mercedes narrowed her eyes.
"I'm not drunk."
"No, I mean... I don't know."
She laid her hand on his arm.
"I've been through worse."
ooo
Mercedes was still getting used to the pot-hole filled roads of Bethel Rock, Tennessee, as she drove back to their rooming house where they've been staying for the last two weeks, she cursed under her breath every time her tires dipped into the holes. By the time they got to the Christian Woman's Society home on Main Street next to Bud's Pharmacy and across the street from the local firehouse, Mercedes was exhausted and only wanted to take a bath, eat some take-out and go to bed. When she first arrived to Bethel Rock, she was surprised that women-only boarding houses still existed but in this backwards town nothing should surprise her. She and Abby stayed in a double room and had their own bathroom. They shared the common living areas downstairs with 4 other women. Mercedes mostly kept to herself; she wasn't in the mood to make friends. She parked the car in the parking lot behind the boardinghouse and roused a sleeping Abby from her slumber.
"We're back," Mercedes whispered in her ear.
Abby whined and opened her eyes, a slight grimace on her face. When she looked all sleepy and drowsy, it always reminded Mercedes of when she was a baby and Abby would pitch a fit when she was awakened during her naps. Upon entering the house, the smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes greeted them, and Mercedes' stomach growled. For a second, she wished that whomever, was cooking would offer some to her and Abby, it had been a while since they had a home-cooked meal, but that would soon change. The house was decorated with antique furniture and knickknacks. The walls were covered with floral wallpaper and Bible scriptures were embroidered on fancy silk pillows in the parlor where an ancient TV sat on top of a dusty chest with board games like checkers and Parcheesi stacked beside it. They went upstairs to their room and Mercedes ordered Chinese food while Abby took a bath. As she waited for the food to arrive, she called her Aunt Josephine.
"Fine time to call," Aunt Josephine said in her scolding tone, "You know I worry about you."
"Sorry Aunt Jo," Mercedes said, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, "I've been busy."
"Have you found a job?"
"Not yet."
"How's Abby?"
"The same."
"She'll talk when she's ready."
Mercedes blinked away the tears that formed in her eyes.
"I've got her some new notepads."
"Where you living now?"
"We're moving into an apartment on Friday."
"Praise be! I'm not a fan of those boarding houses"
"This one is nice," Mercedes said, feeling defensive."
"Humph, if you say so. You had a perfectly nice home here, then you run off –"
"Not now, Aunt Jo."
"Listen, gal, I love you and Abby more than anything. But you're wrong. Come back home."
Mercedes lost her resolve to be civil.
"It's not home any more. I need this."
"You need to get your behind to church and ask Jesus for guidance instead of gallivanting to some strange town away from those who love you. Abby needs – "
"Abby needs a new start. And so do I. I have to go. I'll call you soon."
Mercedes hung up before her Aunt Josephine could say anything else.
ooo
Sam lied on his bed eating microwave popcorn with George and Gracie curled up beside him. His room looked like a cyclone hit it with clothes strewn about and unopened mail piled on his nightstand. He picked up the remote control from off the floor and turned on the TV and decided to watch an old black and white movie about a treasure hunt. His mind wandered and he thought about Mercedes and her mute daughter. He wondered why she wouldn't talk. Mercedes and Abby carried so much sadness that it broke his heart. Quite a few people had come to see the apartment, but Mercedes was the first person that he actually wanted to rent it to. Everyone else was either crazy or just too weird.
Mercedes was neither. She had a quiet grace and dignity about her, a subtle beauty that intrigued him. How she readily accepted his offer to talk made him think she was alone too, and his protective instincts kicked in. Yes they were strangers, but Sam's intuition had never steered him wrong. He finished off the popcorn and opened up a beer. It would be nice to have someone living in the apartment above him. It got mighty lonely in that house; he didn't know if he and Mercedes would be friends, but he hoped so. He drank another beer and soon felt his eyelids grow heavy. After doing repairs all day, he was bone-tired. The work kept him sane after his god-awful divorce. Just then his cell phone rang, it was his ex-wife Quinn.
"You sound drunk," she said when he answered the phone, "I need to come over."
"I'm busy."
"Busy fixing up that dump?"
Sam sucked in his teeth.
"What do you want?"
"I've got something important to tell you."
"Why can't you do it over the phone?"
"I just can't."
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"Why can't I come over?"
"I'm tired and had a long day."
"Sam…" she said, in that whiny voice she got when she didn't get her way, "It won't take long."
Sam knew he couldn't win with Quinn even if he tried.
"Ok, come over."
"Thanks."
Sam shook his head, and stared at the phone before leaning back and closing his eyes in frustration. Quinn showed up about an hour later. She didn't bother ringing the doorbell; she simply used her key and let herself into the house, when Sam heard the front door open, he got out of bed, dragging himself down the hall, to find Quinn standing in the foyer, wearing a pink pastel wool coat. Diamond earrings dangled from her ears; and her lips were red as apples. Sam looked at her classically beautiful face with her pretty blue eyes, pert nose, and rosy cheeks, and knew beneath all that beauty was a broken woman.
"You look pretty," he heard himself saying.
Quinn walked over to him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She kissed his cheek.
"Aren't you sweet."
"If you say so."
"Are you screwing that waitress from Mel's Diner?"
Sam's mouth fell open in shock.
"What?"
She ran her hands through her long blonde hair and folded her arms.
"I saw you the other day –"
"You were spying on me?"
"No, I happened to be downtown and –"
Sam cut her off.
"You're never downtown"
Quinn looped her arm through his.
"Do you have any tea?"
"You didn't come here to drink tea."
"So you're not sleeping with her?"
"Damn it, Quinn, I don't even know what you're talking about. What do you want anyway?"
Quinn went into the kitchen and began looking through his cupboards until she found the a box of tea with her picture on the front with the words Quinn's Blend written in flowery script across the bottom.
"Ah, you have my Earl Grey blend," she said, "Where's the kettle?"
"It wasn't your blend. I added stuff to it."
Quinn took off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. She wore a vintage yellow lace dress that clung to her hourglass shape and reminded Sam of Easter Sunday.
"It wasn't called Sam's Blend, now was it… The kettle?"
"Under the sink."
She filled the copper kettle and set it on the stove; turning to Sam, she said:
"I'm getting married next week."
"Congratulations."
Quinn stared at him, her cool demeanor faltered a bit.
"I wasn't expecting that."
Sam didn't say anything. He sat down to the table.
"Anything else you want to share?"
"This is your reaction?"
"Apparently."
"Don't you care who it is?"
"No."
"It's Will Schuester."
"That old fuck?"
"He's not that old."
"Whatever you say."
Quinn sat down beside him.
"I love him. He protects me."
"From yourself?"
"Everything. I'm excited. It's going to be at Daddy's hotel and we'll have silver white cupcakes and champagne. I even got a harpist. We're writing our own vows, which makes it more real, don't you think? Writing what's in your heart …"
The teakettle whistled. Quinn got up and poured the hot water into the mug sitting on the counter. She dropped in two teabags and sat down again.
"You're awfully quiet."
"There's nothing to say."
"Will's taking me on a safari."
Sam sighed. He wanted Quinn to leave. Her inane chatter hurt his head. The thought of her marrying Will Schuester turned his stomach, but that was her cross to bear. The guy was twice her age, and had a slimy way about him.
"I can't picture you on an elephant."
Quinn giggled and sipped her tea. She scooted her chair a little closer so that their shoulders touched.
"I want you to forgive me."
Sam didn't answer her; he shrugged his shoulders and stared at the clock on the opposite wall, watching the minute hand tick away; she always wanted something. It unnerved him.
"Go to the living room and get those shop posters. I don't want them."
"But I thought you wanted – "
"Why would you think that?" Sam said, standing up and looking down at her, "You can take that tea too, don't know why I had it. And give me your house key, no reason for you to have it," he said ignoring the tears he saw forming in her eyes; Quinn's crocodile tears were about as real as fool's good and worth just as much. She wiped her tears away with a lace monogrammed handkerchief, reached into her purse and handed him the key, and then she leaned back in the chair, resting her hand protectively on her stomach and patting it a little. Sam stared at her.
"So that's it," he said pointing to her stomach, "You're pregnant."
Quinn looked away from him.
"I didn't know how to tell you. I found out a few days ago."
"Good-bye, Quinn."
"Sam, come on, I came because, I don't know, when I thought you were seeing someone… it's stupid, I know my reasons are stupid, but you know I –"
"Were you really going to tell me you were pregnant if I hadn't figured it out?"
"Yes."
Sam wanted to believe her; in his heart, he wanted to dance with her one more time, make love one more time, give her everything she ever desired… but that was before it fell apart.
"I believe you. I still think Will is a prick."
Quinn stood up and hugged him.
"I worry about you."
"I'm fine."
"You're alone."
"I've got George and Gracie," he whispered into her hair; Quinn always smelled like lilacs and tonight was no different.
"You know what I mean," she said, holding on to him, "I am sorry."
Sam pulled away from her.
"Me too."
"Why'd you buy this dump?"
"Why not?"
"You know," she said as she put on her coat, "You can come to the wedding."
"Goodnight, Quinn," he said and left her standing in the kitchen.
LIKE FREUD SAID
The next day after feeding the cats and painting the ceiling in his spare bathroom; Sam went online to Skype with his therapist Artie. As usual, Artie was brutally honest.
"She's moved on," Artie said, his glasses falling on the bridge of his nose, "Dude you should be grateful."
"Why?"
"Let her fuck up somebody's else's life."
"I couldn't give her a baby."
"I know."
"What good am I?"
"Judging from the traffic to your match dot com ad, pretty damn spectacular.
"Artie, be serious."
"I am. If I wasn't married I'd be hitting those chicks left and right, know what I'm saying?
"You would."
"Sam, the past can't control your present. Besides your self-worth shouldn't be measured by this medical problem."
"Sometimes I dream that we're married and she's pregnant with triplets."
"You have to let go."
Sam understood but it wasn't enough to stop the pain.
MOVING DAY
It snowed the day Mercedes moved into the apartment. She and Abby didn't have many belongings. When they left Lima, she really wanted a fresh start, so it made no sense to bring a lot of memories; she left most of their things with Aunt Josephine, and only packed the bare essentials. Sam greeted them with his easy going smile and insisted on carrying most of the boxes. Abby kept herself occupied with his cats George and Gracie, while Sam and Mercedes trudged up and down the stairs, unloading the car. They were finished in about an hour. Sitting down on the couch, Mercedes let out a long sigh. Sam sat down beside her, his cheeks flushed pink, and he smelled like the outdoors, rich earth and cold snow.
"That wasn't so bad," he said, "You didn't have much stuff."
"It's easier that way," Mercedes said, trying not to be effected by his overly male presence, the plaid flannel shirt he wore was rather tight, and she could imagine the muscles underneath, and his jeans, cupped his firm buttocks, every time he bent over to pick up a box. She bit her lip and shuddered. It had been a long time since she found herself attracted to anyone and it was unsettling.
"Cold?" he asked, completely oblivious to her internal appraisal of his body, "I'll turn on the heat."
"Great, thanks," she said.
He smiled and went to the thermostat on the opposite wall, turning it up.
"It'll be toasty in no time."
"Thanks for all of your help, I really appreciate it."
"No thank you, I'm glad you moved in. It's nice to have someone other than George and Gracie to talk to."
The apartment door opened and Abby walked inside. She went to her mother, handing her a note.
I'm hungry.
"Me too, boo," Mercedes said, "It's past lunch time. I'll order something."
"Or you could keep a lonely man company and have lunch with me downstairs? I make a mean grilled cheese and I have homemade beef stew." Sam said, nudging her with his elbow, "And that's better than take-out."
"Well, Abby?" Mercedes asked her daughter.
Abby looked at them and nodded.
"Looks like you got a date," Mercedes said, "We'll freshen up and be down in a bit."
Sam rose from the couch and stretched his arms
"I also have sweet potato pie for dessert baked by yours truly."
"That's a lot of calories," Mercedes said, suddenly feeling self-conscious, since she moved to Bethel Rock she gained 15 pounds.
Sam frowned.
"Hey, don't worry about stuff like that. Life is too short."
"I suppose you're right."
"See you downstairs," he said and left.
Mercedes took a shower and changed into a "date" outfit even though this wasn't a date. She chose her favorite purple cashmere sweater and black skinny jeans. She curled her hair and put on blush and lipstick. Abby sat on the toilet seat and watched her mother get ready. When she was done, she stared at herself in the mirror. Men always said she had pretty eyes, though she felt her lips were more praiseworthy. She wished she could hide those 15 extra pounds because they seemed to settle in her ass, making it even bigger.
"Do I look ok?" She asked Abby.
Abby nodded and pointed to the perfume on the counter.
"No, that's only for special occasions, I'll wear it some other time. Come on, let me braid your hair."
At one point, Abby had wanted to cut her hair really short, and Mercedes put a stop to that; she couldn't bear to see her baby's curly, kinky locks land on the floor of the beauty salon. After she braided her hair, she told her to change into a clean pair of jeans and a fresh sweater.
Abby pointed to her tool belt.
"Yes, you can wear it." Mercedes said, "Now don't pussyfoot, I don't want to keep Sam waiting."
Abby wore an ugly Christmas sweater that Mercedes thought she had donated to Goodwill. It was bright gold with a green felt Christmas tree decorated with rhinestones. For some odd reason, Abby loved it, much to Mercedes' annoyance, but she didn't' have the time or patience to argue with her, so she bent down, kissed Abby's cheek, took her by the hand and went downstairs.
ooo
Sam's cooking impressed Mercedes. The grilled cheese sandwiches were extra gooey and cheesy; and the beef stew was the best she ever had; Sam said he used fresh rosemary and thyme for the stew, which added to the robust flavor. It was fun sitting in his cozy kitchen, eating the comfort food lunch and talking about nothing in particular. Even Abby seemed more relaxed, as she ate her food, though her big, brown eyes roamed about searching for something. Mercedes knew what she was looking for.
"Where are George and Gracie?" she asked Sam as he set the sweet potato pie down in the center of the table.
"Probably on the couch, why?"
Mercedes pointed to Abby.
"Oh, I see," Sam said, he put his hand on Abby's shoulder, "You can go to the living room and visit them, and you do you think you can do me a favor?"
Abby looked at Mercedes.
"It's ok sweetie," Mercedes said.
Abby nodded her head. Sam went to the cupboard under the sink, and pulled out a cat brush.
"Here," he said, "They both need brushing, and I haven't had time to do it."
Abby nodded again, took the brush and left the kitchen.
"I guess it's more pie for us," Sam said as he cut two slices of pie and put them on cracked blue plates.
Mercedes took a sip of water.
"She might have some later. It looks delicious. You're really a good cook."
"Thanks. I always liked experimenting with food," he said, before digging into his slice of pie.
The pie, just like everything else, was wonderful, the texture of the sweet potato filling was smooth and creamy and the crust was delicate and flaky with a rich buttery flavor. The spices were a little different; Mercedes tried to identify them.
"You added something," she said, taking another bite, "It's more than cinnamon and nutmeg."
"Yeah, I used Garam Masala, an Indian spice."
"Did you go to culinary school?"
Sam laughed.
"Nah, cooking is just a hobby."
After they finished the pie, Sam made them each a cup of ginger tea with honey. The snow was coming down harder outside. Mercedes felt calmer than she had in a long time and even grateful.
"Sam."
"Yes?"
"Thanks for letting me rent the apartment upstairs. You don't know how much we needed it."
Sam patted her hand.
"There's no need for thanks."
"I wanted a new beginning. I think it will be good for Abby."
"That's why I bought this place, a new chapter, so to speak."
"What do you do?"
"I used to run a chain of tea shops here in Bethel Rock and in Chattanooga, now I'm flipping a few houses and just looking at my options."
"I see," Mercedes said, clutching the warm mug of tea between her hands and closing her eyes.
"Tired?" Sam asked.
"A little… I have a job interview tomorrow morning."
"Where?"
"A music teacher position at the Remington School."
"I heard that's a good school."
Mercedes nodded.
"Yes. It's perfect for me and for Abby. If I teach there she can go there for free, and that would be a blessing. Thanks for not making a big deal about how she is; a lot times folks ask questions or sniff around for answers and it's nice to see an adult just treat her like any other child. There's nothing wrong with her mind, and when she's ready, she'll talk again" Mercedes said as she took a sip of tea, "is it always so quiet around here?"
"Not always. Sometimes I blast Metallica at 2am," Sam said in a joking manner.
"You know what I mean," Mercedes said, chuckling.
"I guess it is pretty quiet. I like it," Sam admitted, "But I got some old albums that I like to play.
"Albums?"
"Yeah, I have an old school soul, Donny Hathaway or Bobby Womack soothe me when I need to unwind.
"Me too."
Sam looked impressed.
"So you like 70s soul music?"
"I like all kinds of music, but I got a soft spot for some Melvin and the Blue Notes from time to time."
"You're my kind of woman!"
Mercedes laughed and hoped her dark skin hid the flush in her cheeks. She wasn't the type of woman to flirt or even search out a man's advances, but Sam reawakened those feelings in her she thought were dead and buried, it was scary, thrilling, and ….
"You know that the only answer is yes, right?" Shane said.
They stood on a rainy street in front of the Lima Bean. He was on bended knee.
Mercedes held the sparkling diamond ring in her hand.
"Shane I –"
"Before you answer know that I'll build you that castle in the sky. Give you yellow brick roads and make you a queen cause that's what you deserve."
Mercedes bent down and kissed his cheek
"Yes, Shane, I'll marry you."
"I always said you were my kind of woman".
"Mercedes, Mercedes, are you ok?"
Mercedes blinked and her mind felt foggy. The memory faded and she slowly came back to the present.
"I'm sorry I, well, I just remembered something."
"I didn't mean to upset you by what I said. I was just running my mouth," Sam said, and his green eyes were filled with worry and concern.
Mercedes managed to smile and grabbed his hand.
"It's nothing, really. Thank you so much for lunch. But we need to head upstairs and start unpacking everything."
"Ok," Sam said, looking disappointed by the sudden departure, "Hey, if you ever want to kick back old school style, you know where to find me."
"I'll definitely take you up on that," she said over her shoulder as she went into the living room to get Abby. She found her daughter curled up next to George and Gracie fast asleep; she bent down to pick her up and a sharp pain shot through her lower back.
"Ouch!"
"Back issues?" Sam asked rubbing her back gently, "I'll carry her for you."
"It's an old car accident injury. It flares up from time to time. Yes, please carry her, I hate to wake her up. She hasn't been sleeping well." Mercedes said, trying to ignore the flames in her belly when his large hands pressed against her back in an attempt to soothe the pain.
"I've got Icy Hot if you need it."
"Thanks, but I've got medicine upstairs."
Sam gently picked up Abby who was dead asleep and didn't even wake up. The cats meowed softly as their human pillow was taken away.
"Shhh," Sam said to them.
He followed Mercedes upstairs and once she opened the door, he went inside with her.
"You can lie her on the couch," Mercedes whispered.
"Do you have a blanket?"
"Yes," Mercedes said and opened a nearby box, pulling out a fluffy pink blanket.
Sam laid Abby on the couch and covered her with the blanket. He stepped back and looked at Mercedes, his gaze holding hers for a second too long.
"I better get going. Thanks for having lunch with me."
"Thanks for having us."
"Don't worry about that job interview. I'll say a prayer for you."
"Thanks, Sam, that's just… thank you."
Sam walked to the door and as he opened it he said:
"Remember, I'm here if you need me."
THE INTERVIEW
"I see you used to teach music at Lima Elementary School. As you know, the Remington School is for special needs children, do you have experience in that area," Mrs. Friedman asked Mercedes, she was the principal of The Remington School; who was an older woman with snow-white hair, gray eyes, and a no-nonsense sensibility about her. The navy suit she wore had wrinkles, and even the gold broach pinned to the lapel of her jacket was freshly polished. Mercedes hoped her black dress pants, green blouse and black blazer were enough; she suddenly felt underdressed in Mrs. Friedman's large office with oil paintings of the founders of the school on her walls. The plush leather chair Mercedes sat in was comfortable, but she was a bundle of nerves, and with the way Mrs. Friedman treated this interview like an interrogation only made things worse.
"Not extensive experience. However, once a month I had a music therapy class with the special education students."
"Only once a month?"
"Yes, the budget wouldn't allow for more."
"Typical public school bureaucracy. I bet they had money for their sports programs. Forget the arts."
Mercedes waited for the next question. Mrs. Friedman glanced down at her resume.
"Ohio State University. Decent school."
"Yes."
"I'll be honest. We want someone with more experience with special needs children. Some students have emotional problems and others have learning disabilities. You must realize that's a lot to take on."
Mercedes gripped the arms of the chair.
"My daughter is mute, due to a personal tragedy. Dealing with her has made me more patient, more empathetic; I know I would be good for this position. I'm good with children overall, and music is a common language for everyone, regardless of one's mental or emotional capabilities. Please Mrs. Friedman, I swear if you give me this job, my performance will exceed your expectations and then some."
Mercedes was surprised at how confident she sounded when she felt anything but confident. She faked the funk as Aunt Josephine would say. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and smiled. Mrs. Friedman nodded and made a little sound in her throat.
"You have moxie and I admire that, and I like your passion for music. We need to fill this position as soon as possible. When can you start?"
"Anytime you want."
ooo
The phone rang at 3:00 in the afternoon. Mercedes was baking cookies for a school fundraiser. The house smelled like snicker doodles. She answered the phone.
"Hello, Mrs. Tinsley?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Officer Todd Grimes. Your husband was shot today during a store robbery in Lima Heights. We have your daughter Abby with us. She's in shock."
"What? Oh my God…"
Mercedes woke up from the same nightmare she had every night for the last year. She relived the day that Shane died over and over again in her dreams. Abby was there when it happened. According to the court records, an armed teenager, who was high on crystal meth, came into the 7-11, demanding the money in the cash register, and Shane tried to reason with him, asking him to think about his actions, and the kid shot him five times. Right there in front of Abby. He probably would've shot her too, but those were the last of his bullets. The store owner said he never heard a scream like that in all his days, when those bullets hit Shane's chest and Abby flung herself on top of him, yelling, crying, blood soaking into her overalls. The EMTs had to pry her off of him, and nobody could console her. Those people didn't understand that Shane was Abby's world. They were inseparable. She wanted to be a handyman like him when she grew up. He took her on his jobs all the time. She was probably the only little girl in her class that had more use for a toolbox than a dollhouse. Shane's handyman business was very successful and it was expanding; he had a crew of 5 men and bought a couple of vans. He could fix anything and Abby got her mechanical abilities from him.
After Shane's death, Abby stopped speaking. Mercedes took her to a few psychiatrists who all said the same thing: wait it out. Trauma affects everyone differently. So Mercedes bought Abby notepads, and began to read her expressions and watch her more closely. Aunt Josephine treated Abby just the same as did Shane's parents. They all learned her form of sign language and read her notes. Others weren't so kind. Her teachers wanted her to speak. Strangers asked if she was "slow" and relatives aside from her grandparents and Aunt Josephine said that Mercedes was coddling Abby too much and that "that child should talk" and "ain't nothing wrong with her…" Mercedes cut off a lot of her relatives after that and Abby had no further contact with her cousins, which was sad because they had been so close.
Living in Lima became harder each day. Running into their friends, people whispering about Abby, passing by Shane's grave every morning on her way to work; she couldn't take it any more, and decided to move away; even though Aunt Josephine was against it. Mercedes couldn't blame her aunt for feeling some kind of way. After all she raised Mercedes since she was a year old when her parents were killed in a house fire. Aunt Josephine was especially protective of her because it was a miracle that she survived the fire. "Those firemen got to you just in time," she often said, reliving the memory, "Such a shame about your mama and daddy. But we got each other now, and that's enough." When Mercedes left Lima, that hurt her Aunt Josephine deeply, but she had to do what was best for her and Abby even though Abby still didn't completely understand why they left. In her daughter's mind, they were leaving Shane behind too, and that wasn't how Mercedes saw it. Her husband was dead and buried, his grave was in Lima, but not his spirit that followed them everywhere, and it was this lesson that she hoped Abby would understand someday.
Mercedes reached for her phone on the nightstand and saw that it was 2:00 in the morning. She got out of bed, put on her robe, and went to check on Abby. Her daughter was asleep, buried under her bright blue down comforter. Mercedes watched her sleep for a few moments, then went to the kitchen and made a cup of hot chocolate from the mix that Sam gave her a few days ago. Sitting in the kitchen, staring out into the snowy night, Mercedes heard the faint sounds of the Stylistics coming from Sam's apartment downstairs:
And betcha by golly, wow
You're the one that I've been waiting for forever
And ever will my love for you keep growin' strong
Keep growin' strong
This made her smile.
BROTHERLY LOVE
Sam's brother Finn came to visit one afternoon, while Sam was in the middle of putting down new tiles in his spare bathroom. He loved his brother dearly, but Finn could get under his skin sometimes, and today was no exception. When Sam answered the door, Finn held up a take-out bag from Hunan Treasure. He was such a tall fellow with broad shoulders and gangly walk that many found him intimidating, but really, Finn was a sweet person, though misguided at times.
"Hey, little bro, brought you some lunch."
"Thanks, come on in."
"Of all the houses to buy, you chose one far away from town. I got lost getting here. And why haven't you returned my calls?"
Sam led them into the kitchen and set the bag on the table.
"I've been busy."
Finn took off his coat.
"Did you ever rent out that apartment upstairs?"
"Yeah, a single mother and her daughter."
"Is she cute?" Finn asked as he started taking the white cartons out of the bag, "I mean it's been a while since you've dated anybody."
Sam felt funny talking about Mercedes for some reason. He wasn't sure why.
"She's attractive. I don't have time for that sort of thing."
"Dating isn't a "sort of thing" admit that you're lonely and now with Quinn being pregnant and getting married to Will – "
"Finn, please, I can't talk about her right now."
"Still in therapy?"
"Yes."
Finn munched on an egg roll then said with his mouth half full:
"We should go on a road trip with Kurt and Stevie."
"I don't think Stacey will like being left out."
"She'll understand that her brothers are male bonding."
"No, she won't"
"We can't take her. I don't want to talk about sex in front of her."
"I'm pretty sure she knows about sex."
Finn covered his ears.
"Don't say that! Stacey is still pure as the driven snow. I got her that ring and everything."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"For God sakes, Finn, she's an adult, she goes along with the charade to spare your feelings. I know you love her but you have to let her be a grown woman which she is."
"I know, but in my mind, she'll always be little Stacey, all freckle faced and dancing in pink tutu."
Sam hugged him.
"Your heart is in the right place. You're a good brother, I mean it and Stacey knows it too, but you can't stop us from being adults."
Finn smiled a little and piled his plate with shrimp fried rice.
"We should still go on a trip. It will do us some good. We never see each other. I miss all you guys."
"I miss you too. But I'm going through some shit right now, that I have to deal with on my own. Anyway Kurt is holed up with Blaine nowadays and besides Rachel will never let you go any time soon."
"I'll have you know that I'm not under my wife's thumb."
"Keep telling yourself that, bro."
"Yeah, yeah, I know you guys think I'm whipped."
"We don't think it. We know it."
"Rachel isn't that bossy."
Sam raised his eyebrows and changed the subject.
"How are the twins?"
"Matt and Lucy are fine. Hey, why don't you come by this weekend? We're having a movie day with the kids. We'll make popcorn balls, even have sing-alongs for the musicals, what do you say?"
As much as Sam loved spending time with the twins, being in such close proximity with Rachel could be nerve-wracking. She was nosy and even bitchy at times, and though she clearly loved Finn and was a good, devoted mother, Sam could only take her in small doses. But thankfully, he had a legitimate excuse.
"I have to go to Chattanooga this weekend to check on a house I bought, but thanks for the offer."
"Rachel's homemade popcorn balls can't tempt you?"
"Sorry, man, I really do have to go to Chattanooga. I think the house needs a new roof."
Finn piled another helping of shrimp fried rice onto his plate. Sam forgot how much his big brother could eat. When they were kids, they always had to hide their Halloween candy from Finn because he would get greedy.
"Ok, but I'm going to plan something for all of us soon. Oh, and another thing," Finn said, biting into his third egg roll.
"What's that?"
"I've got something for you."
Finn searched around in his coat pocket and pulled out a pamphlet. Sam took it from him and saw that it was for a support group for men suffering from infertility. He was about to say something to Finn, curse him out even, but his brother spoke before he could get the words out.
"Don't get mad. Just hear me out," Finn said, "You're not less of a man. And if any woman thinks that, she's not worth shit. I hate to see you living in a black hole, thinking you don't measure up, because you do. You more than measure up. Quinn is a bitch. Plain and simple."
"You have no right – "
"I know I don't have any right. But I'm your big brother; I'm always gonna stick my nose in your business. It's wrong, it's annoying, and hell, it's just plain rude, but I don't care, I love you too much to see you waste away… a low sperm count isn't a death sentence –
"You don't understand, alright? You've got two beautiful kids. If I'm ever with a woman who wants kids, what do I tell her? People only think this shit affects women, but it affects men too, we just don't talk about it. Do you know what it was like the day we found out about my problem? Do you? How Quinn just looked at me and broke down in tears and I never saw her so hurt before? Our goal was a big family, like the one I grew up in, and yes adoption was considered, and artificial insemination with a sperm donor, but she wanted a piece of me and her growing inside her, but I couldn't give that to her. No matter what we did. I failed her." Sam was crying. He rarely cried in front of anyone, but this was Finn, and he didn't have to pretend with him.
"Dude, listen," Finn said reaching across the table and holding Sam's hand, "The right woman won't care. And yes, adoption is a great option."
"I agree. It's just hard, bro. I mean as a man you just take for granted the role that you play, and when you don't fulfill it, it's like a piece of you is defective."
Sam thought back to those days when Quinn would initiate sex and he felt like too much of a loser to make love to her.
"Sam we can get through this," she said, rubbing his chest.
"I've tried every treatment."
"We'll keep trying"
"Keep trying and coming up empty?"
Quinn tried to kiss him, and Sam pushed her away.
"You deserve better than me."
"And Quinn isn't completely to blame. I was a dick too," Sam said, confessing to his douche behavior.
"I know," Finn said.
"I'm afraid of trying."
Finn he opened up a fortune cookie.
"I'm afraid every morning I wake up,"
"Why?"
"I worry about Matt and Lucy riding the bus, Rachel's OCD going into overdrive, mortgage payments, my job… life is difficult, but then I get out of bed, listen to Rachel bitch about her allergies while she's dusting the kitchen, and then Matt and Lucy are fighting over the remote, and well, I know it sounds nuts, but I feel blessed. Those crazy folks are my family and the fear melts away, and Rachel packs my lunch with organic foods because she loves me and wants me stay healthy; and Matt and Lucy give me a big hug for no reason and it's all worth it. Fear can't stop you from living. I want you to have what I have."
"Thanks, Finn," Sam said.
"Anytime, man."
After they ate lunch, Sam served Finn a couple of slices of the apple pie he baked the other day, and Finn being Finn, managed to convince Sam to let him take the whole pie home.
"You don't need a whole pie anyway," he said as he wrapped the pie in foil, "And Matt and Lucy will love it."
"The rate you're going, I'll be surprised if they get a piece."
"I would never deprive them, but yeah, this is almost too good to share."
As Finn was walking out the front door, Mercedes and Abby came inside carrying a bunch of grocery bags.
"Hello there," he said with a bright smile.
"Finn this is my new tenant Mercedes and her daughter Abby. And Mercedes this is my brother Finn." Sam said.
"Nice to meet you Finn," Mercedes said, "I'd shake your hand, but my hands are full."
"That's ok."
"Let me help you with those," Sam said, grabbing the bags from her hands.
"I'll help too," Finn said, setting his pie on the small table near the door, and taking the bags from Abby's hands. Abby blinked at him but remained silent and stood close to Mercedes who put her arm around her.
"Thank you, Sam, Finn, we appreciate it."
Sam was already going up the stairs with Mercedes, Abby and Finn following behind him. When they got to her apartment, she unlocked the door, letting them inside. Sam noticed that everything was unpacked and the apartment looked lived-in, unlike his place downstairs that resembled somebody's forgotten attic with all of its boxes lined against the walls. They carried the bags into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
"Thanks again, guys. Would you like something to drink? I have lemonade and sweet tea."
Sam was about to decline, but Finn with his big mouth sat down to the table and said:
"Yes, I'll have a glass of lemonade."
"I thought you had to get home," Sam said, he didn't like Finn being nosy around Mercedes; though knew he meant no harm and was only curious; it unnerved him.
"It's only lemonade."
Mercedes opened the fridge.
"Would you like some Sam?"
"Yeah, sure."
She poured two glasses and set them on the table. Abby stood in the doorway and watched them closely. Sam figured that Finn's presence unsettled her a bit so he said:
"Abby, Finn is my big brother, and you know what he did when he was your age?"
Abby's eyes grew wide and she shook her head.
"When we went to see Santa Claus, he got scared and peed on his lap."
Finn turned red as he drank the lemonade, when he set the glass down he muttered:
"Thanks a lot for embarrassing me."
Sam laughed and looked over at Abby whose mouth hung open for a second then closed. The next thing that happened was truly miraculous; a tiny smile appeared on her face before she vanished from the doorway. Mercedes saw it too, and she almost dropped the carton of eggs she was about to put in the fridge.
"My word, she hasn't smiled in such a long time…" she said, then looked over at Sam who was as surprised as she was, "I can't believe my baby smiled a tiny bit today."
Sam wasn't quite sure what to say so he let Mercedes revel in the moment. She set the eggs on the counter and joined them at the table.
"You'll have to excuse my reaction… I just… I saw the little girl I used to know for a second. Sam held her hand, squeezing it gently. Finn took it all in, with a million questions in his eyes, but Sam knew his brother had enough sense, not to ask any of those questions just yet; he would fill him in later. Mercedes hugged Sam whispering thank you in his ear, then she stood up and started to put the groceries away again.
"Finn, do you live nearby?"
"About 20 minutes away, how do you like it here so far?"
"It's an adjustment. But I like it"
"Good."
Finn stayed and chatted for a while even going so far as to show Mercedes pictures of Rachel and the twins, and Mercedes was attentive, smiling at his jokes and genuinely enjoying having them both there for the impromptu visit. It was nice spending time with her. Sam knew that his brother was forming an opinion of Mercedes and judging from his intense, concentrated expression; he came to one of his intuitive conclusions. When the visit was over, Sam walked his brother to his SUV parked in front of the house. Finn unlocked the car and put the foil-covered pie on the passenger seat, and then he and Sam hugged good-bye. As Finn got in the car he said:
"I'm going to only say one thing."
"What's that?"
"Look in front of you."
Then he started the engine and drove away, honking his horn since that was a part of their good-bye ritual. The air was bitter cold, and the sun was setting, creating a golden pink glow in the sky; Sam shivered and rushed back into the house, locking the door behind him. He hated it when his brother talked like Yoda. What was right in front of him? But even in his anger, he knew the answer, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.
NOTES: Thanks for reading!