Hey, y'all! Long chapter alert! Would love to hear what y'all think about… well, you'll see when you read! The next chapter will be the last Thanksgiving chapter (I promise).


"Okay, if everyone could gather 'round," Sam said as he and Mercedes brought the last of the dishes to the dining room table. "We're going to get dinner started."

"I think that in honor of our families meeting for the first time," said Mercedes, "we should all sit next to someone from the other family. I'll sit next to Stevie." She laughed when Dwight expressed his disappointment.

Marvin agreed. "I think that's a great idea, Mercedes. I'm going to take my spot next to Mary."

"Well, lucky me." Mary smiled. "You must've known I had my sights set on you, huh?"

So that no one would disrupt her plan, Mercedes made the next suggestion. "Okay, so Dwight, you can sit with my brother, Devon, you can sit next to Stacy, and Mom, why don't you sit beside Sam?"

Not seeing a way out of the seating arrangement, Michelle agreed with a smile that looked a little more like a grimace.

Mercedes stood on the other side of Sam, sandwiching herself between the Evans brothers.

After the family said grace, Stevie immediately went to dig in, but Mercedes stopped him.

She chuckled. "Wait one second, Stevie. I know your family doesn't do this, but it's a tradition in my and many other families that we all say at least one thing we're thankful for today. Would anyone like to start?"

Mary raised her hand. "I'll go first."

Mercedes looked at her with a surprised look. "Okay, sure. Thanks, Mary."

"I'm thankful for family, no matter the size, I'm thankful that we're all able to be here together, and I'm thankful that Mercedes and my son finally came to their senses."

Most of the table laughed.

As they went around the table, Sam and Mercedes kept looking at each other. This was the first time that their families were in the same space and they were both just realizing what their lives really looked like when they collided. They were loving it.

After Michelle went, it was Sam's turn. "Well, first, I want to say that I'm thankful that everyone who's here is here, especially on such short notice. I'm thankful for the love of my life." He looked at Mercedes before turning his head to the dog sitting beside the table. "Jr., you mean everything to me."

Mercedes, unlike the other guests, was not amused. "Ha ha, very funny, Sam," She rolled her eyes.

He cheesed. "I'm also thankful Mercedes, who means more to me than words could ever explain." He chuckled. "It's been the worst six years without you and I hope and pray that I never have to do it again."

She smiled at him. "Well, I know most of us have already said this, but I'm thankful for family." She shrugged. "All of you have been my family before today, but to have the people I love most under one roof… let's just it's about damn time. I'm thankful for my baby," she said to Sam. "Ditto to everything you said, but I also just have to add that I have never met someone who treats me like you do. And there's never been anyone who just gets me the way that you do and I—"

Mercedes heard her mom clear her throat ever-so-quietly, her way of subtly moving things along. Her smile faltered as she finished her spiel. "I just am really thankful for you."

Stevie groaned, "Okay, enough with the wedding vows."

Mercedes and Sam rolled their eyes as everyone erupted into laughter once again.

"Personally," Stevie continued, "I'm thankful for the delicious pecan pie sitting on the kitchen counter right now that I've been thinking about for the past 8 hours. When are we getting to dessert?"

Mary shook her head at her son's antics. "Just for that, you'll be the last to get some."

"Fine, I take it back! I'm thankful to be here too. You guys don't totally suck."

Mercedes smiled wide. "Aww, he loves us!" She teased. "Dad, close us out?"

Marvin nodded. "Stevie might find this a little too sentimental, but I will. I've got to say that I'm thankful for life, health, and strength. It sounds cliché but it means something entirely different once you've had almost all yours stripped from you." He looked around at everyone at the table. "A few long months ago, there was a good chance I wouldn't be able to see these wonderful faces much longer. There was an even greater chance that this would be my last Thanksgiving or my last chance to try this pecan pie I keep hearing about." He gestured to Mary with his head.

Mary grinned. "I'll make sure you're first in line to get a piece. Way ahead of Stevie."

As her dad continued talking, Mercedes found herself blinking back tears, both sad because she remembers having to think of a life without her dad and grateful because she didn't have to anymore. Sam placed his hand on her back to comfort her.

"I'm extra thankful to my family, even blondie over there."

Sam laughed at the nickname.

"There've been some ups and downs for sure, but you've done your part, Sam. And if you weren't family before, you are from here on out. It's been a long road and I've still got a ways to go, but I'm thankful to have made it this far." He smiled before ending his speech. "I kicked cancer's ass."

The table laughed and cheered for him.

Mercedes wiped away the tears that never get a chance to fall. "Okay! Now let's eat. I'm starving."

"Me too," said Sam.

"Yeah, right. You've been eating since I've been cooking. There's no way you're actually hungry."

He gave her a look that said 'nonsense'. "You forgot I trained for this. I'm ready."

She just shook her head and laughed.

Dinner was going mostly well. Just about everyone was getting along, but Michelle and Sam hadn't made any progress. In fact, they'd barely said anything to one another unless Sam asked her a question. Mercedes was irritated, but not defeated. She had a few more tricks up her sleeve.

"So, Mom," she said, "Sam talked to me a few days ago about wanting to be more involved in the kitchen. He's actually been thinking of taking some courses, but I told him that you were a great cook to learn from."

"That's wonderful, but I don't know why you recommended me, Mercedes. You know I don't have time to teach anyone to cook. I barely have time to cook myself."

"No, I know, but Sam, why don't you tell her what you told me?"

"Yeah, sure," said Sam. "I'm not looking to get into anything extravagant, just little things. Chicken tetrazzini, maybe a pot roast. Mercedes told me you make a really good lemon braised chicken."

Michelle shook her head. "Lemon braised chicken is far from 'little' and my pot roast takes hours."

"Isn't that kind of a given with pot roasts, though?" Mercedes was quick not to let her mom off too easily. "Don't they all take a long time?"

"I just want something simple but tasty. So that I could possibly make dinner for Mercedes and I one night. Or so that when she leaves, I can eat something other than takeout or tv dinners." He joked.

Michelle replied with a joke of her own, "Well, she'd have to leave for that first, right?"

Sam's eyes darted over to Mercedes quickly to gauge her reaction. He could feel her discomfort growing. "You know, I don't even need you to show me really. Just a recipe or two is all. Right, babe?" He looked at Mercedes, who nodded silently. This was not going well.

"I'll see what I can do." Michelle gave Sam a smile and went back to her food.

That didn't satisfy Mercedes, but she figured it was better than nothing… even though it was pretty much nothing.

Mary broke the rigid silence that fell upon the table. "So, Mercedes, how are things going in L.A.?"

"Yeah, do you like, party every weekend and live on the beach?" Stacy asked.

Mercedes chuckled. "Yes and no; Cali parties are a bit much for me most weekends, but I do have a beach house in Santa Monica."

"Santa Monica? As in the Santa Monica with the pier that's always on tv?"

"That's the one. I live about a mile from the pier."

The teenager gasped, "No way! We have to go visit." Stacy turned to plead to her mom with her hands clasped. "Ma, can we go visit? Please?"

"Calm down, Stacy. Mercedes probably doesn't want us all in her personal space like that."

"Hold your horses just a minute," Dwight said to his wife. "We should at least hear what Mercedes has to say about this." He gestured for her to speak. "Mercedes?"

The singer laughed aloud. "No, please, come visit. I'm dying to have company over there. I actually just bought it this year and I've barely even lived in it myself."

"A reward for a successful world tour?" Mary proudly mentioned her accomplishment.

"Something like that, yeah. Maybe, if you guys can make it, you can come up while Sam and the kids are out on Christmas break. Sometime after Christmas? It won't be prime beach weather, but it'll still be warm-ish. We can do a ton of super fun Cali things."

Stacy had to stop herself from leaping from her seat. "Yes, yes, oh my gosh, yes please!"

"What do you think, Stevie?" Mary looked at her son while her husband and daughter made their excitement very clear.

"Are you kidding? You had me at Santa Monica."

Mary sighed, "Well, Dwight, I guess we better start looking for plane tickets early. Don't want to get stuck with last-minute holiday seats on the plane."

Stacy instantly cheered, "Yes! I can't wait. I have to tell someone. I have to tell someone now." She picked up her phone but was scolded by her mother.

"You can wait until after we finish eating, I promise. Now, back to my original question. Mercedes. L.A.?"

"Yes, things are going really well."

Michelle frowned and asked her daughter, "How would you know that, exactly? You haven't been back there since you got here five months ago."

"Well, I do have friends there, Mom. I keep up with them. I also have a label and professional contacts that let me know what's going on." Mercedes stuffed her mouth with mashed potatoes. As if being curt with Sam wasn't enough, her mom was nagging her now?

"That's great. I'm sure they'd love to see you in person when you finally decide to go back to where you—"

"Mom," Mercedes muttered, starting to reach her limit.

"These green beans are incredible, Mary." Michelle complimented her.

Slightly surprised at the praise, Mary smiled. "Thank you!"

"I've tried making them but could never get them quite right. Speaking of green beans, Mercedes, maybe you want to try some of those in place of the mashed potatoes on your plate? To lay off the carbs a little." She suggested it in such a sweet tone that any normal person probably wouldn't even register it as a dig.

But Marvin did. He rubbed his face warily. "Chelle."

"What? It was just a suggestion."

"It's Thanksgiving, love. It's a day for eating whatever you want until you burst. Like Christmas."

"Or Super Bowl Sunday," Sam added.

"Exactly. Today's a day for the utmost gluttonous behavior. And our daughter is far from a glutton, so let's just not today, okay?"

Michelle shrugged but agreed. "I guess she can work it off. It's only one day, after all."

Mercedes took a calming breath as she pushed the now unwanted mush around on her plate. "And I thought that sitting on the same side as you with a seat between us was going to help prevent you from becoming my acting dietitian," she wised. "And on Thanksgiving, of all days." She tried to make it sound much more lighthearted, but she ended up letting out an ironic chuckle.

Yet another thick blanket of silence covered the table.

With both her hands above the table, Sam reached for Mercedes' thigh and gave it a soft squeeze, trying to soothe her.

Mercedes cleared her throat. "If you all will excuse me." She set down her utensils, got up from her chair, and tried not to march as she left the room for the kitchen.

As Sam went to follow her, Mason beat him to it. "What she said."

In the kitchen, Mercedes was opening and closing all the cabinets.

Her brother watched her for a bit before saying something "So, that was something, huh? What are you doing?"

She jumped as she looked back, unaware anyone was there. "I'm thanking God for closed floor plans is what I'm doing. You?"

"Checking in on you."

She abandoned her search with an exasperated huff. "One normal night, Mase. One regular dinner where she wasn't rude or condescending or questioning my career choices. Could I not have gotten that?"

"With the mom? No way!" He smiled, echoing the theme from The Magic School Bus.

Mercedes was not amused. She went back to opening cabinets and let out a relieved moan as she found what she was looking for.

"What is it?"

She pulled out a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels and a lowball glass.

Mason smirked. "Liquid courage?"

"Nope. I'm not being courageous tonight. Just need a little something to take the edge off." She poured herself a double.

"It's not even 4 o'clock, Merce. You sure you wanna do that?"

"You got a better idea?" She asked rhetorically before taking a swig. She winced and grunted at the taste and burn of her gulp. "God, I hate this stuff."

"Look, I know Mom is doing a bit much, but that's her m.o. You know that. I think—"

"No. If we have a conversation about her, I'm going to leave this kitchen more irritated than when I came in here. But I want to talk about another family member."

Mason nodded knowingly. "Your life-sized Ken doll?"

"He's trying, Mason."

"I know, but that's not enough."

Mercedes downed the rest of her drink, still not used to feeling it go down. "I understand that you're pushing him away right now because of what he did to me and I love and appreciate you to no end for that. But we've moved past that now."

"Well, maybe I haven't."

"Well, maybe it's time you do." She threw his tone back at him. "I know that you two were family before I even came back into the picture."

"I think 'family' is a little generous."

She gave him her 'be real' look. "Your daughter calls him 'Uncle Sam'. Why else would you let her call him that god-awful nickname if you didn't think that she loved him and he loved her? And I'll give you a hint: it has nothing to do with me."

Mason leaned against the counter without a word, but his expression told Mercedes that she had gotten to him.

"If push comes to shove, just do it for me. Between you, Mom, and Dad, Sam's 1 for 3 right now. I need my big brother in my corner here." She put the bottle away and the cup in the sink. "I've got to get back out there. We're going to start dessert soon."

The rest of the dinner went without Mercedes and her mother saying another word to each other. Still with the exception of Sam and Michelle, everyone went about conversing with each other as if nothing happened. Clearly, Sam's family was just as good at ignoring tension as her family was. After dinner, everyone was so stuffed that no one had room for dessert at the time so they moved from the dining room to the living room, where just about everyone's eyes were glued to the football game.

But later, when dessert kicked into gear and Sam and Mary began bringing out banana pudding and apple pie, Michelle went right back to what she seemed to do best. "Do you make anything a little lighter, Mercedes?" She asked as they sat on opposite ends of the couch.

"Mary and I both made some healthier options for Dad, but it's clear that he won't be eating them. I made some maple cupcakes earlier." Marvin had been completely avoiding all of the healthier options at dinner. Mercedes had laughed at him honoring his Thanksgiving tradition of eating like there was no tomorrow.

"I think I'll have some of those, then. We aren't all able to fill out and call it relationship weight." She smiled and Mercedes wasn't sure if it was a genuine joke or a targeted comment on her size.

Mercedes got up from the couch, found Sam in the kitchen, and took him by the hand without warning. She led them to his bedroom and shut the door behind them.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Tell me that I'm not an awful hostess," she blurted before going into a complete rambling spell. "Because that dinner was a hot mess and for some reason, it feels like my mom is laying it on extremely thick today and I didn't mean to snap at her earlier, but it's like every time she says something about me or you or the damn mashed potatoes, I'm pretty sure I can feel my blood boiling and getting increasingly hotter. And at this point, my blood feels so hot that I don't understand how it hasn't completely melted my insides. I don't want your family to get a bad impression of me or my family and I know I can't help that, but I didn't think my mom would be making it so freaking hard and I-"

Sam took her hands and held them against his chest. He hugged her and kissed the side of her forehead. "You're doing amazing."

"Are you sure?" She mumbled into his front. "It doesn't feel like it."

He let her go and set them down on the bed. "Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "I just needed to know."

Abruptly, Sam shot up. "Get up."

"What?" Her brows knitted together as she looked up at him.

"Stand up! We need to shake it out."

"Sam, I'm not a child. I don't need to 'shake it out."

"Yes, you do. Your mom's not going to get to you. Not tonight. Tonight's gonna be a good night. The Black Eyed Peas might have said it first, but I'm stealing it. Just don't tell them because I can't afford to be sued for copyright infringement or whatever it is you artists do. Come on." He beckoned her with his hand.

She grunted as she stood up reluctantly.

"Now shake it off." Sam started flailing his arms and legs slightly, shaking it off.

Mercedes tried, but she couldn't quite get into it. She lazily jerked her limbs at half the speed.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Put your back into it," he said, not stopping the shaking.

She stopped. "Sam, this feels stupid."

"And it probably doesn't look the best either, but who cares? You've got nothing to lose but a few seconds of your time. And you don't have to worry about your dignity because it's just us and I've seen you in just about every nightgown you own."

She smiled wide. He always knew just what to say to win her over. She put a little more into her shaking motions.

"Oh, yeah. Really lean into it. Just go crazy," he cheered as his own shaking became more intense.

Mercedes decided to put her all into it. She threw her arms up over her head and even started jumping off the ground.

"Yes! That's it! We're shaking it out! Just a few more seconds! You've got it!" He then chanted, "Shake it out! Shake it out! Shake it ou-"

Mercedes yelped as she tripped over her own feet and started falling. Luckily, he caught her and stood her upright. They both laughed at themselves and from the relief of the shaking.

Panting, Sam asked, "Feeling better?"

She laced their fingers. "Much better."


When everyone was almost done with their dessert, Mercedes muted the tv.

"Hey!" Her brother shouted.

"Oh, boohoo. You'll get over it." She smiled at the room. "Everyone, Sam and I have an announcement to make."

"Wait, are you pregnant?" Asked Mason.

Mercedes frowned, confused about where he even got that from. "No, Mason, we're not pregnant."

Devon 6 months along now herself, asked what was only the right follow-up question, "Are you trying?"

"No, we're not trying."

"Not yet, anyway." Sam grinned. Once he saw the look his girlfriend gave him, his grin disappeared. "Sorry," he murmured.

She huffed. What on earth was she going to do with him? "Sam, why don't you tell them your news first?"

"Okay, yeah." He agreed. "Stevie, Stacy, help me out with a drumroll?"

The siblings obliged.

"I am going back to school to get my coaching certification!"

As the families looked happily surprised, he stopped them.

"But wait, there's more. I'm getting the certification so that I can take the head coaching position at McKinley. I start both next month."

The surprise heightened, but he wasn't done.

"But wait! There's even more. Mercedes?"

She laughed a little and they interlocked hands. "I'm going to be sticking around and taking over the glee clubs to help lighten his load. You're looking at the new coach of the New Directions starting next month!"

Finally, with all the news, there were rounds of praise for them both from everyone. Well, almost everyone.

"Mom," Mercedes called her out, "any thoughts? For either of us?"

Michelle took a breath. "I'm happy for you, Sam, really. This is something that I know you'll enjoy and be truly great at. As for you," she looked at her daughter, "I guess I'm just wondering what this means for your singing career? How do you expect to do your job and make money if you're here?"

"I'm taking over Sam's position completely, so I'll be a full-time paid employee of the school. And I talked to Evie, my manager," she made the connection for Sam's family, "and she said that as long as I'm working on some things here, spending 2 or so weekends in California every month, and getting back in the studio, it shouldn't be a problem."

"It'll be a stretch, but we're going to make it work," said Sam.

"I see. And how long would this be happening?"

Mercedes' tone grew less optimistic, seeing that this was sounding dangerously like the third-degree her mother was famous for. "Will needs me for up to three months until he can find someone good enough for the job long-term, but I'm actually thinking of staying around a little longer. Six months; until Sam's program is finished."

"And you'll be okay with a high school show choir director's salary for six months? No offense to you, Sam, but Mercedes, that's a little below your station, don't you think?"

She scoffed at her mother. She couldn't believe she was saying this. And in front of Sam and his family no less. "Hold up, this isn't just any show choir. It's number one in the country five years running and number six in the world, might I add. Sam did that. So technically, this is above my station and I've got some pretty big shoes to fill." She could feel all the nerves she'd accumulated during the previous shaking fading away and her mother was about to get on her last one.

"But you've never coached a glee club a day in your life and you're all of a sudden committing to coaching four of them, if I'm correct. That's how many clubs McKinley has? As a career move, this seems lateral at very best."

"Whoa, Mom." Even Mason found the line of questioning to be a bit harsh. "Mercedes has found something to do here while still keeping her life together in Cali. Can't we just take a moment to be happy for her?"

"Of course. I'm happy if she's happy. But as a parent, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't speak up when I thought my child was doing something a little irresponsible."

Irresponsible?

As Mercedes stammered and stuttered out of shock and growing anger, Sam spoke for her, "That's not totally true, Michelle. Mercedes has practically taken the Troubletones entirely under her wing. Will wouldn't put her in this position if he didn't feel like she could do an amazing job. Plus, she's written some stunning lesson plans over the past few months." He placed his hand on Mercedes' back. "Babe, why don't you get your notebook and show her?"

"I just think that this may be a conversation best had amongst family," Michelle said finally.

"We are family," Mercedes asserted. "Sam and the Evanses are just as much my family as you are. We're all one big family. That's what this entire day has been about."

"Then, let me rephrase this. I think this would be a conversation best had amongst our immediate family. In private."

And just like that, Mercedes' blood was back to boiling.

Mary immediately called for a clearing of the room. "Sam, why don't we head outside? We can sit on the back porch, you can get the fire started, we can even make s'mores, yeah?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, let's do that." He gave Mercedes a kiss on the cheek as he and his family left for the backyard. Devon joined them, leaving just the original Jones family.

Mercedes crossed her arms as she stood, looking down at her mother, who was still sitting on the couch. "Dad, can you guys give us some space?"

Mason wanted to see how this played out. "Why? We're immediate family."

"Mason—" Mercedes caught herself before she misdirected her anger at him. "Can both of you just go outside, please?" She looked at her mother. "We talk in the bedroom." With the door shut behind her, she wasted no time. "What's the real issue here, Mom?"

"I don't think you should be staying any longer than you already have." She admitted.

"Oh, I know. You've made that pretty clear. But why?"

Mother and daughter stood silent, staring at one another.

Slowly, Mercedes could feel her fight dwindling. She realized that she'd have to give up and accept the truth that had been staring her dead in the face the entire time. "It's Sam, isn't it?"

She huffed annoyingly, "This isn't about Sam, Mercedes."

"It's not?" She asked, not believing it.

"No. It's about you and the career that you're supposed to have."

"If it were about my career, we wouldn't have a problem; I already told you I'm getting back to my music next month."

"While taking on another job that you don't need. You can't dedicate the right amount of time to your music if you're here."

"Here as in Lima? Or here as in Sam's house?" Mercedes crossed her arms.

"Is there a difference?"

"There is! And for the record, you are in no position to make a comment on my career or anything else when you don't even know what I do in a day."

"When you first got here, you were finishing up your vacation, which was fine. We welcomed you even as you lied to us about staying here with Sam, which I never mentioned. Since then, you've found excuse after excuse to prolong your stay."

"You know why I've stayed this long, so don't you dare call my father an excuse."

"You could've done your part to take care of him just fine from California. But no, that wasn't good enough for you because you wanted to play teacher with your little boyfriend!" Michelle spat.

Those last words nearly knocked the wind out of Mercedes. "So this is about Sam," she said softly. "I should've known from the jump 9 years ago when we first started dating. You've never liked him."

"Oh, please, Mercedes. I could care less whether or not you're with Sam."

"Really? Because you have been on a previously undiscovered level of rude and hurtful all day today. Ever since you walked through that front door, you've barely had a nice thing to say to or about Sam."

"That is not true."

Mercedes went from being disheartened to angry. "You couldn't thank him for a gift that he picked out for you, you practically shuddered when you had to sit next to him, you couldn't be bothered to give him a dinner recipe, and you belittled the job he's been putting his all into for the past five years in front of his entire family. It's like it pains you to just be nice to him."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't dislike him? He's a great young man."

"Just not great enough for me to spend the rest of my life with him, right?"

Michelle shook her head, avoiding the conversation. "Mercedes—"

"He's a great young man, but you were just itching for something to go wrong with us since you couldn't get him to break things off with me yourself and when they finally did, you jumped at the chance to get me out of here and in the house with you and Dad. I haven't forgotten about that."

"Fine. You want to know why I do the things I do? Say the things I say? All of it, Mercedes, is to protect you. This is about you."

"Do you honestly want to talk about me, Mom?" She nodded, accepting the challenge. "Let's talk about me, then. Just today, you've commented on both my eating habits and my weight multiple times, you found any and every opportunity to tell me that I should be back in L.A. right now, and when I shared some amazing news with you, your first words were 'what does this mean for your singing career'. Not 'congratulations, Mercedes'. Not 'I'm so happy for you, babygirl'. You didn't even smile. You just sat there and proceeded to question me like one of your defendants and tell me how irresponsible I was being."

"You are being irresponsible," Michelle said adamantly. "Wildly so." She closed the space between them and spoke softer, "The life you want and the life you have are not as compatible as you think," she said. "And as long as you are here, you're further cheating yourself out of your dream. I say the things I say to you so that you can always be aware of how the industry views you. All I'm doing is looking out for you."

"Well, I don't feel looked out for," she hissed. "I feel small and ugly and like my happiness doesn't matter," she croaked as tears sprang to her eyes. "You think you understand what I'm going through, but you don't. You say you're happy when I'm happy, but the things you say make me feel wrong and stupid for doing what makes me happy. Working with those kids makes me happy! Being with Sam… makes me feel like the happiest person alive. But you don't care. And if you can't at least pretend to like him, if you can't be satisfied with the life that we're building together," she gulped, "then you are no longer welcome in this house and you need to leave."

Michelle scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"I said get out." She repeated her sentiment with twice the confidence. "I can't keep doing this with you, Mom. Sam is the love of my life and I'm not going to willingly give you the chance to hurt either of us again." Her tears were barely keeping at her lower lash line.

As Michelle was walking out of the bedroom, she stopped with her shoulder right next to Mercedes' and whispered, "You can feel how you want about me. But Mercedes, if I were in charge of a massive record label in L.A. and one of my top acts spent months in her hometown with her high school flame doing community outreach when she hadn't even begun recording her sophomore album… let's just say she wouldn't me one of my top acts for much longer."

Mercedes' response was instant. "Then I guess it's a good thing you aren't in the industry."

Figuring that her mom was on the other side of the door when she heard it close behind her, Mercedes finally let her tears fall. Then, realizing that she had just cut off her mom and said such horrible things to her, she broke down without warning. She sobbed, but only briefly. She wiped her face clean and sucked it up. Now was not the time. When she opened the door, she was immediately met by Sam.

"Hey, we're all set up for s'mores. Should I grab two extra roasting sticks for you and Michelle?"

Mercedes shook her head. "My mom's left for the night."

"So, just one then?"

"No, I'm good. I don't really have much more of an appetite. I'm still stuffed from earlier." She tried to smile, but failed miserably, ticking him off.

"What happened?"

She wasn't going to talk about it. Not unless she wanted to break down again. "It's nothing. I mean, it's a lot more than nothing, but now's not the time."

His eyes bred worry, but he kept his cool. "Okay. Let's just go out then. My dad's dying to hear you sing a campfire song." He placed his arm around her and started to walk, but she stood still.

"Actually, I think I'm just gonna head to bed." She found an excuse. "I've been up and running around since 4 a.m. I'm really tired." Both things were true, but she just didn't have the resolve to be around everyone at the moment.

This didn't sit well with him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Tell my family thanks for coming and they're welcome back anytime. And don't let my brother steal away with the rest of the peach cobbler. He's sneaky like that."

Her joke somewhat reassured him. "Okay. And you don't want to talk about what happened with your mom?"

She shook her head silently.

"You're sure that you don't? Because I can call it a night too and we can—"

"Sam, I can't right now." She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes for him to drop it.

He wanted to talk about it, but he knew nothing good would come from pushing her when she was this adamant about not talking. He kissed her on the forehead and went back outside to the families.