CHAPTER 12
SUMMARY – Cooper reveals the news about Karofsky to Sam and Mercedes; Abby opens up to Cooper about her father's death
RATING – Mature
WARNING – Explicit sexual situations, mild cursing
NOTES: Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and following my story!
WHEN THE NIGHTMARE FOLLOWS YOU
Cooper dialed Sam's number again. He sat on the bed in his hotel room watching the sunrise. He had a view of the public park across the street; starlings were perched on the wooden benches and sat atop an old copper statue of the town founder that was now pale green; he pressed the phone to his ear, letting it ring. Sam wasn't picking up and this worried Cooper. He immediately wondered if anything happened to Abby. He tried Mercedes' number too and again there was no answer. He left messages for both of them. He got up from the bed and unzipped his suitcase, after rummaging around for a bit, he found a melon berry candle that he bought from a kid at the airport who was raising money for his charter school. Cooper lit the candle and sat it on the dresser; the sweet fragrance did little to calm his nerves. He needed a cigar, a nice shot of vodka, and a white sand beach in Cancun, faraway from the grim life he led. He watched the candle burn for a little while and then called his assistant Latonya.
"Hello Cooper," she said, all cheerful and chipper.
"I can always count on you to get up with the roosters."
"Are you doing ok?"
Cooper lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and then closing his eyes. He was about to say that he was fine, but instead he said:
"I watched a documentary about South African ants. You know I didn't know that much about them."
"What did you learn?"
Cooper took a deep breath.
"That nature is brutal."
"Yes it can be."
They both fell silent. Cooper's clutched the phone to his ear.
"The Pharaoh ants build nests in dark voids in any building structure. Pesky things. I want to call my exterminator."
"I doubt you have Pharaoh ants in your home."
"True. But you never know, that's how life is isn't it? These ants are polygynous which means they have multiple queens per colony. One colony could have up to 200 queens, and they're hard to get rid of because multiple colonies are capable of breaking into other smaller colonies and can survive a baiting program and then rebound when baiting is taken away. When they infest hospitals, they feed on blood. The queens and colonies are extremely mobile.
"But none of that means they can't be eliminated. It just takes time. Difficult, yes, impossible, no."
Cooper sighed.
"Maybe."
"You do what you can."
"They were so young."
"But some survived."
Some isn't all, he wanted to say, but knew that would upset her so he kept his mouth shut.
"I'm going to Kentucky. I have to see Sam and Mercedes."
"I'll book your hotel. Candlelight Manor still ok with you?"
"Their vodka was dreadful. How about the Rose Tree Inn. I heard they serve great vodka, cognac too."
"Don't get too happy," Latonya said, and Cooper swore he could hear her smiling on the phone.
"I won't. I only drink for - "
"For recreation. I know you all too well. You probably slept in your clothes again too."
For the first time in a long time, Cooper laughed. He was in fact still wearing his suit except for the jacket and tie that were lying across the chair in front of the desk. He became too exhausted to change into his sweats.
"What's so funny?" She asked, bemused by his outburst.
"I haven't the faintest clue... I guess because you do know me well."
"Dress warm. Pack extra socks. I'll book your room."
"You worry too much about me."
"Someone has to."
"I see his eyes when I sleep."
"Whose eyes?"
"Jax's."
"Cooper - "
"And then the others come back, rushing through my mind like a bunch of snapshots in a photo album. Too many to count."
"Go on," she said.
"They reach for me in my dreams, and I try to pull them from the abyss that swallows them and they slip from my hands."
"Jax is alive."
"Barely. Prison is like death."
"There's more than one way to see this."
"What other way is there?"
"You can be a guide for somebody else going through hell."
"I'd hardly qualify as a therapist."
"Not a therapist. A guide."
"The way Virgil guided Dante through hell."
"Something like that."
"Astute observation."
"Thanks."
"I should be thanking you."
"For what?"
"Everything."
There was silence on the other end and he wondered what she was thinking. Finally, she said:
"You're welcome. Now please dress warm. I'll go make the hotel reservations. Good by-
"Wait."
"Yes?"
"Did you get my gift?"
"Gift?"
"Yes it's from GS Global Systems."
"Oh, Cooper, I'm sorry. It slipped my mind. Thank you so much for my security cameras. That was very thoughtful of you. Everything has been crazy with this Karofsky situation that I forgot to drop you a note."
"I'll install them for you."
"It's a fancy system."
"You need better protection. I worry about your safety."
"I live in a very safe neighborhood."
"I beg to differ."
"We'll have to agree to disagree. I have to be going. Be safe and be careful."
"Thank you and you do the same."
"Good bye Cooper."
"Good-bye, LaTonya."
After he ended the call, he tried Sam's number again, when he got his voicemail he left another message.
ooo
"Hold off on the wedding until we can figure out what's going on with Abby," Santana said during a Skype session with Mercedes and Sam, "She's very fragile."
"Don't worry, we've already postponed it, Mercedes said. It was quite early in the morning and they were in the den with the door closed and Abby was upstairs asleep. The night had been spent soothing her through nightmares, and singing her lullabies to ease her terror and pain.
"What do you make of all this?" Sam asked.
"I think the wedding triggered her attack, but I don't know why, given she loves you and has no problem with you marrying Mercedes."
"I'm not replacing Shane."
Santana nodded.
"I know. And I don't believe she thinks that you are. It's something else. When will you be back in Tennessee? It would be easier to have a session with all of you in person."
"It's hard to say," Mercedes said, "Hopefully soon."
"I know you have some drama going on and I don't need details. Just know that I'm glad you're safe."
"Thank you, Santana," Mercedes said, grateful for no questions about the current situation, "Is there anything we should be doing?"
"Keep telling her you love her, let her know you're there for her. That's all you can do at this point."
"We will," Mercedes said.
"And one more thing."
"What's that?"
"Girl, let me see that ring close up."
Mercedes laughed and held up her hand to the screen.
"Emerald. That's different. It's beautiful. Congratulations to both of you."
"Thank you," Sam said as he put his arm around Mercedes, "I'm so thankful she said yes."
"You better be," Santana said, "She's special."
"Santana... what a sweet thing to say," Mercedes said, her eyes tearing up a little, "Thank you."
"It's the truth. Now you both have my number. Call anytime. See you later."
"Good-bye," they both said.
After the session ended, Mercedes and Sam went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. While they sat at the table, waiting for it to brew, Sam patted his lap.
"Schätzchen, come here."
Mercedes got up from her chair and sat on his lap. He put his arms around her. They sat in silence, holding each other, listening to the coffee maker drip and patter, the strong aroma of Dallymar coffee filled the kitchen. Mercedes leaned back against Sam, enjoying this moment with him, his arms around her waist, binding him to her. She looked down at her ring and smiled. The sunlight shined through the partially open curtains and onto the polished wood table. Both of them wore heavy flannel red plaid pajamas they got on sale at Walmart, and thick socks covered their feet, it was cold that morning, the kind that sliced through your skin, but the warmth that came from their bodies, kept out the cold. Mercedes thought of a short story she read once about a man who loved bigger women because they kept him warm on winter nights; it was an odd, sweet story, and the man's adoration was genuine. But the warmth he spoke of was more than physical; it was a [comforting warmth], like chicken soup or sitting in front of a fireplace. As much as Sam praised her body, she knew his love ran deeper than that, he saw something in her, just as she did in him.
"Pure," he said, hugging her tight.
"Hmm?" Mercedes said.
"You're pure."
"Like a wedding night virgin?"
Sam laughed, kissing the back of her neck, making her shiver.
"Not like that."
"Then how?"
"It's hard to explain. When I was a kid, I used to hold up icicles to the sunlight, I loved watching them melt, they were like silver and clear, just pure."
Mercedes turned around and kissed him, not sure what to make of his observation, but loving how he tried to explain his feeling for her. She imagined Sam as little boy with cold reddened cheeks, playing in the snow and sunshine, watching icicles melt; it was a heartwarming image and she loved him for it. They kissed until they were breathless and he held her face in his hands.
"When I look at you, nothing stands in the way. Just like those icicles; I see everything," he said, kissing her again and then reaching underneath her pajama top, placing his hand on her heart, and she did the same with him. They stared at each other for a few moments, until Mercedes rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent of clean sheets and medicated lotion; she kissed the side of his neck, where he had a tiny, star shaped birthmark. His hand moved down further and he squeezed her bare breast, tweaking her plump nipple between his rough fingers. He repeated the same gesture with the other one and she wanted more, her breath grew shallow.
"Upstairs," he said, his voice low and raspy. Before she could answer, he stood up and carried her up to the guest bedroom, the stairs creaking under his feet with each step. Inside the room, he laid her on the bed and opened the lace curtains, flooding the room with white sunshine. He lay next to her and unbuttoned her pajama top, exposing her breasts in the brilliant light, fondling and suckling each one as she ran her hands through his silky hair that had grown rather long since they were in Kentucky; she didn't mind the length, and tugged on the strands as he nursed her bosom. She closed her eyes and moaned as she felt that familiar tingle between her legs. Sam pulled away and kissed her; and then he pushed her onto her back:
"Raise your hips."
Mercedes did as he asked and he pulled her pajama bottoms down her legs, tossing them onto the floor, leaving her socks on. She lay there with her legs spread open, allowing him to see her arousal, and her breasts glistened from his relentless suckling. Sam undressed. His cock was erect, jutting out from between his muscular legs, dripping with pre-cum. He got between her thighs and touched her triangle patch of wiry pubic hair.
"I like this," he said, stroking the coarse mound, his eyes then wandered to the red silk scarf tied around her head, he reached up and pulled it off, revealing her curly, kinky mane. "That's better."
Mercedes smiled up at him. He wanted to see as much of her as he could. Once he told her that if she could walk around naked all the time that it would be fine with him. She was nude except for her unbuttoned pajama top and thick, oatmeal colored knee socks; Sam left those items on for her comfort since the early morning chill was more frigid than usual and she was more susceptible to cold than he was. He leaned down and kissed her and then settled between her warm, sable thighs, pushing himself into her slick, tight, heat. They both moaned as he stretched her inner walls; he stroked her slow and easy, no rush, just sweet stroking that she lost herself in, forgetting everything else except that awesome feeling of getting closer to coming apart. It felt so good to her. Just as she was getting into the rhythm, Sam rolled them over and she was on top riding him, gyrating her hips, as her breasts bounced and her butt cheeks shook.
Sam told her that he loved how she rode him, without restraint or decorum, just reckless abandon that made her sexy and beautiful, she gazed down at him, and he was flushed and sweaty, his green eyes brighter than usual, almost glowing in the light. She wanted every bit of his seed inside her, it didn't matter that it never took root, it only mattered that he was filling her with his love; and that seed grew in a different way, traveling to her heart, making it grow. He gripped her hips and ejaculated, his semen filling her to the brim, running down her thighs, dripping from her core. Their intense orgasm was like a Sunday morning service when you testified about how God blessed you and the Holy Spirit filled your soul, making you dance in the aisles, your arms outstretched to the unseen heavens above, she rested on top of him as he rubbed her back; her body slowly coming down from the amazing high.
ooo
Sam couldn't explain what he did next. Perhaps it was his primitive masculinity that was emerging or maybe Mercedes was too damn sexy for her own good, or it could be something he had been deprived of during his marriage to Quinn. Whatever the reason, when she was rested, he gently pushed her onto her back, and nudged open her big, cellulite-dimpled thighs, that were now as pliable as a rag doll's; he marveled at how his semen clung to the dark curls of her pubic hair, and trickled from her velvet center, he glided his fingers between her folds - that part of her was so beautiful, a woman's sex, vagina, vulva, or whatever name you called it, always reminded him of a flower blooming; hers was deep violet and rosy pink, now made even more lovely because it leaked with his seed, his mark was prominent on this most intimate part of her, and he admired the beauty of it, this evidence of their lovemaking, her vaginal muscles clenched as he teased her with his fingers, never plunging inside, only grazing the surface, gazing at her as she responded to his stroking, her legs opened wider, inviting him inside, but Sam liked her like this, wriggling about on the bed, gripping the sheets, her eyes closed, quiet, pleasurable moans escaping her full lips, just like this, he wanted her, sexual longing and desperation emitting from every limb of her body, her dusky nipples hardened in the cool air, her plump legs shook slightly and her ample hips rose from the bed in an effort to feel more of the gentle glide of his fingers over her pulsating sex; when she was in this state of heated arousal, Sam could never tire of watching her, it was like looking through a kaleidoscope and seeing all the brilliant colors blend together; so he wanted her like this, trapped under the spell of his fingers, for as long as she could stand it; a bit of his dominant side emerged, controlling her need for release. A light sheen of perspiration formed on her skin, her breath came out in gasps, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him:
"Please," she said.
He kissed her lips but continued his restrained torment; watching how her dark brown skin grew flushed and red. His cock was harder than it had ever been; he wanted to see her come undone. Tears filled her eyes; she bucked her hips. Unable to deny her any longer, he plunged his fingers inside and she cried out in relief, matching his thrusts, but he knew Mercedes needed more so he removed his fingers, got between her legs, and thrust inside her, hard and fast, and Mercedes came apart once again, crying and shaking, and nothing in the universe was sweeter or more beautiful to Sam than that moment.
ooo
They lay tangled up in each other's arms, underneath a down comforter and heavy wool blankets. Sam held her close, kissing her forehead, loving this quiet time together. She laid her head on his chest and yawned.
"Tired?" he said, kissing her.
"Yes."
They said nothing else and soon she fell asleep in his arms. Sam pulled back the covers to admire her partially nude body and he rubbed a bit of his seed into her thigh, wanting it to soak through her soft skin, then he stroked the cheeks of her abundant derriere and quickly covered them up again, he didn't want her to get sick from the chilly air. Outside it was snowing, a steady stream of white confetti drifted from the gray sky, Sam stared out the window, thinking of how blessed he was despite the obstacles that he and Mercedes would have to endure, all of it was worth it to have moments like this, with her sleeping peacefully in his arms, the silence surrounding them, except for beating hearts and the winter wind howling outside; he kissed her cheeks, forehead and lips, and a feeling of gratitude and love overwhelmed him; he recalled another moment like this in his life, it happened one morning during his deep depression after his divorce, he was sitting in that broken down house in Bethel Rock, watching spiders crawl across the windows, drinking tea spiked with Jack Daniels and listening to Marvin Gaye's Trouble man on his old hi-fi stereo. And Sam cried, the way people did at funerals when they didn't love the deceased enough when they were alive; he cried so hard that he fell to the floor and curled up in a ball.
Then he remembered something his Grandfather Heinrich often said, when life has you down further than the depths of Hell, name the things you're grateful for. So lying on the cold floor, he shouted:
"I'm breathing!"
"I'm breathing!"
"I'm breathing!"
Then he said a prayer:
"Lord, thank you. I'm breathing. I'm alive."
He didn't know how long he had been lying on the floor when his phone rang. He never answered the phone but on that particular day, he felt compelled to answer it. He picked up his phone from off of the coffee table and saw that it was Finn, he pushed the answer button and before Sam could say anything, his brother said:
"Open the door."
"You're outside?" Sam asked; his brain was foggy.
"Yes."
Sam rose from the floor, wiping his eyes, knowing he looked like hell in his dirty maroon sweatpants and an old orange t-shirt that was covered in ketchup and mustard stains. He walked down the long, dark hallway and unlocked the front door. When he opened it he saw his entire family standing on his front porch. Sam never felt so happy to see his parents and brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews all crowded together, smiling at him, Finn hugged him first and soon the others followed suit. "We love you," they all kept saying. Sam couldn't hold back his tears even if he tried. All of them had busy lives with work and family and just everyday stuff; the fact that they made a special trip in the middle of the week to see him, hug him and tell him that he was loved overwhelmed Sam beyond anything he ever felt before; he had never felt so grateful. For a second he was ashamed about his house and how he looked but that vanished the moment their arms embraced him. God was good. And he was breathing.
Now as he held this wonderful woman in arms, privileged with the honor of loving, caring, protecting, and giving himself to her both physically and spiritually, he had that same jubilant gratitude he felt on that desolate morning over a year and a half ago when he felt he had failed everything in his life.
He closed his eyes, holding her to his heart, and he was about to drift off to sleep when he suddenly realized that neither of them had checked their phones. They both had to charge them so they left them plugged up in the master bedroom where Abby now slept; and then they had that early morning session with Santana and afterwards the simple act of brewing coffee in the kitchen somehow segued into making love and post-coital bliss. He looked down at Mercedes and he kissed her once more and slipped from underneath the covers and put on his pajamas and socks. He went into the master bedroom and got their phones and checked on Abby, his heart broke as he gazed down at her, curled up under the comforter. He sat on the bed, leaned down, and kissed her forehead.
"Sugar plum," he whispered, "We're going to get you better. I swear by it." He patted her head and then left the room and went downstairs to the living room. He sat down on the couch and saw that Cooper had called him numerous times. His chest tightened as he listened to his messages.
"Hello this is Cooper. Call me immediately."
Sam dialed Cooper's number. He answered it right away.
"Sam, is Abby alright?"
"Actually, she's not, she had a panic attack."
"That's terrible. I'm sorry."
"How did you know something was wrong?"
"I don't know," Cooper said, pausing then continuing, "I'm about an hour from your house."
"What was your news?"
"I'll tell you when I get there."
"Why not just tell me now?"
"It's better in person," Cooper said and hung up.
Sam looked at the clock hanging on the wall above the fireplace and saw that it was almost noon. Cooper must have left Bethel Rock early that morning to make the long four-hour drive to Kentucky. He hated to wake Mercedes up but he knew she would want to shower and dress before Cooper arrived and possibly make breakfast. He went upstairs to the guest bedroom and was surprised to find her awake and putting on her robe.
"I'm going to check on Abby," she said looking over at him.
"Cooper called."
Mercedes sat on the edge of the bed.
"What did he want?"
"He said he has important news."
"What's the news?"
"He wants to tell us in person. He'll be here in an hour."
"I don't like this."
Sam sat beside her on the bed and put his arm around her.
"He didn't say bad news. Only important news."
"I guess you're right. Let me check on Abby, and then I'll shower and change."
"I checked on her earlier and she's still asleep."
"Well she's due for another check-in," Mercedes said giving him a sad smile and kissing his cheek, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For loving me and Abby."
Sam kissed her.
"I'll start the shower."
"So you're joining me?"
"Of course."
They hugged and kissed and Mercedes went to Abby's room while Sam went to the guest bathroom and turned on the shower and got undressed. A few minutes later, Mercedes joined him in the bathroom; and as she closed the door behind her she said:
"Last night was so rough for her; I'm glad she can sleep now. Though I hope it's not for the entire day or she won't sleep tonight."
Sam untied the belt on her robe.
"I doubt she'll sleep for an entire day."
Mercedes nodded as he helped her slip off her robe. He unbuttoned her pajama top and pushed her pajama bottoms down her legs and she stepped out of them and placed all of their nightclothes on the counter. Before sliding back the shower door, Sam took a moment just to hold her and they stood in the middle of the floor, warm, naked bodies pressed together, their arms enveloping each other and Sam was grateful for the tranquility.
"I've got you," he whispered.
"And I have you."
Sam smiled, leaning down he kissed her plump lips, and then they took their shower. Admiring her beautiful full-figured body under the hot shower spray, made Sam want to make love again but there wasn't time so he got pleasure from washing each of her body parts with loving care, gliding the soapy washcloth across her slippery wet skin, but sometimes he couldn't resist, and he would fondle her large, firm breasts or gently squeeze her abundant butt cheeks; and she too, washed his body with the same loving intensity, stroking his tight, muscular behind, tweaking his erect pink nipples, and massaging his chest with her sudsy bare hands. Sam washed and conditioned her hair, enjoying every moment, of sinking his fingers into her tightly coiled curls, and she returned the favor by washing his blond locks, they rinsed off and got out of the shower, stepping out into the steamy bathroom, where they dried each other off and Sam rubbed cocoa butter lotion all over Mercedes soft supple skin, which reminded him of mahogany silk every time he touched it; and when he was finished, he picked up his bottle of medicated lotion, and she took it from him.
"Let me do it."
Sam kissed her as she squirted the lotion onto his chest and rubbed it in.
"Sorry, it doesn't smell as good as your lotion," he said.
Mercedes continued applying lotion to his chest and abdominal area.
"I like how it smells on you."
"Really?"
"Yes, it's comforting."
Sam didn't ask anymore questions and indulged in the awesome feeling of her soft hands rubbing all over his body; he was harder than a rock, it was all he could do to keep himself, from coming undone, but when she squeezed his behind and then got on her knees, giving each cheek a tender kiss, he exploded, his come shooting onto the marble counter in front of him. Mercedes looked up at him, her doe-eyes, amused and alarmed all at once.
"I didn't know I had that effect on you."
Sam laughed, catching his breath, reaching for the washcloth hanging on the rack beside him, he wiped himself off.
"Baby, if you don't know by now, how much you turn me on, I don't know how to convince you. You are the sexiest woman I have ever had the pleasure of making love to. Never forget that," he said, taking her by the hand, and helping her off the floor.
"I won't she said," hugging him.
"I want to do something."
"What's that?"
"I want you to see what I see."
"See what you see? What do you mean?"
Sam turned them around so that they were facing the mirror; he put his arms around Mercedes and squeezed her chubby belly that was marred with stretch marks:
"Beautiful Abby grew here, and I'm grateful for everyday I spend with her."
"Sam…"
"Shhh."
He then traveled to her hips, his hands tracing the wide circumference of her curves.
"Your hips are lovely and full and I love when you wear dresses and they cling to this part of you, I swear you look like Venus," he continued his descent lower, his fingers running along her "treasure trail" of soft vellum hair to the patch of dark, coarse pubic hair.
"And when you open yourself to me, I love how your labia folds are like flower petals and that little pearl that gives you so much pleasure is beautiful too, he said, moving them away from the counter so his fingers could briefly touch her wet core. Mercedes shivered at his delicate touch, biting her lip. She closed her eyes.
"Keep your eyes open, look at how beautiful you are, Mercedes."
He removed his fingers and then he grabbed each cheek of her behind, massaging her flanks.
"Kim Kardashian ain't got nothing on you, this is an ass that should be on magazine covers," he said as he kneaded the flesh of her behind, "That day you wore those tight black jeans and purple sweater when you came to my place for lunch, it was all I could do to keep my control."
Mercedes smiled and moaned, her arousal heightened, and Sam's hands went to her chest, caressing her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples that began hardening in the damp, steam-filled air.
"I have no words for these, except, thank the good Lord for doing such an awesome job on them," Sam said, as he continued to take handfuls of her generous mounds, and squeeze them, Mercedes lay back against him, and Sam could feel the trust and love radiate through her body with each touch and praise he gave her, his hands then moved to her heart, and he said:
"I treasure your heart the most. The Lord did the best job with that."
He turned her around to face him, and kissed her, hugging her to his chest. When the kiss ended he said:
"And it's not just physical stuff. Your kindness, love and compassion, make you the most beautiful woman in the world to me. That's what turns me on the most. I love you."
Tears ran down Mercedes' cheeks.
"I love you so much."
They held each other a long time, just caressing one another, kissing and touching, until Mercedes clung to him and cried out, and clear fluid flowed from between her thighs.
"Sam I –"
"It's ok baby."
"I didn't expect it."
"Just feel it."
"But we weren't even –"
"I know," he said, rubbing her back, holding her as she shivered in his arms "But we make love in so many ways. And I'm grateful for it."
"Me too."
When she calmed down, they wiped away the residue that Sam called her "sweet nectar" from her thighs and Mercedes blushed at his euphemism. Then they went into the bedroom and got dressed in sweaters and jeans and went downstairs and began making lunch. Mercedes fried bacon while Sam mixed the pancake batter. Both of them had a craving for breakfast food. As Mercedes put more bacon in the skillet, she said:
"Cooper should be here by now."
"Yeah, you're right. Do you think I should give him a call?"
"Yes, I'm anxious to know what he has to tell us."
Sam picked up his phone from the counter, and was about to call Cooper when the doorbell rang. When he got to the front door he looked through the peephole and saw Cooper standing on the front porch wearing a long, black coat and sunglasses, his white blonde hair shined the harsh sunlight. Sam opened the door and waved him inside.
"Good to see you, Cooper."
Cooper nodded and began unbuttoning his coat and Sam noticed that it smelled faintly of sweet tobacco, as he took it from him and put it in the closet near the front door.
"Would you care for some brunch?" Sam asked, as Cooper stood there staring at him, his hands in his pockets, looking as stylish as a GQ model in his tailored, navy blue, three-piece suit and freshly shined black leather shoes.
"Is Abby any better?"
Sam sighed.
"Well, she's sleeping right now. Last night was awful. She kept having nightmares about her father."
"I see."
"Thank you for your concern."
Cooper didn't respond. His eyes remained sad as he followed Sam into the kitchen where Mercedes was putting the bacon onto a big blue plate.
"Hello Cooper," she said, smiling at him, "We got a late start today."
"Yes," he said, sitting down to the table and watching her with an intense gaze, "Your hair is different."
Mercedes blushed, touching her damp Afro.
"I just washed it. I'm letting it air dry."
"You mean Sam washed it."
Sam's mouth fell open.
"How did you – "
"Observation."
Sam didn't want to know more about his "observation" so he said:
"Would you like some coffee?"
"Certainly."
"Everything else will be ready soon," Mercedes said, turning back to the stove, "We made plenty, so don't be shy."
"I like your hair like that," Cooper said, "It suits your face."
"Thank you."
Sam put a mug of black coffee in front of Cooper, who took a sip and sighed:
"This coffee reminds me of a café in Berlin, they always served Dallmayr Sonderklasse or Tchibo, though I'm more partial to Dallmayr."
He spoke as if he we wanted to go back there, and there was an odd longing in his voice, and though Sam felt pity and admiration for the strange, enigmatic man who could observe that he washed Mercedes hair and was fond of Abby; he also wanted to know the news and this exchange of pleasantries was trying his patience, but something told him not to push Cooper so he didn't. Instead he went to the pancake griddle that sat on the counter and finished making the pancakes. After everything was done and was set on the table, he said to Cooper:
"So what's the news?"
"Aren't you going to say grace first?
Sam said a quick grace and after he said Amen, both he and Mercedes both looked at Cooper, who stared back at them and said:
"Karofsky is dead. Your in-laws were having you followed because they want custody of Abby."
"I can't believe that, how could they – why would – I'm so angry I could – " Mercedes couldn't keep her composure, and she began breathing hard. Sam held her hand.
"Baby, I – "
"Sam, I love you and I know you mean well, but let me feel this. I always knew they would come for me. I sensed it. I think that's another reason why I moved away from Lima, to get away from them. They blamed me for everything. Shane's drug abuse, his death, just everything."
"His death?" Sam asked, confused by that accusation, "How would you have anything to do with that?"
"They thought I should've made Shane choose a more socially acceptable career rather than running his own handyman business, which was beginning to thrive, he loved working with his hands and his customers were always pleased with the work he and his crew did. Sure, sometimes they were in bad neighborhoods but Shane didn't care, those were his customers. His parents thought if I persuaded him to go to law school or something like that he would never have gotten shot in Lima Heights. He had his business degree and was using it; it's not like his college education went to waste. In fact, business was growing so much that we could afford to build an extra room on the house for his office. None of that mattered to them. So they shoved that accusation down my throat too. I damaged Abby, killed Shane, and ruined all their lives."
"That's crazy," Sam said, "Those were Shane's choices."
"Sometimes people need someone to blame. It's easier than facing the truth," Mercedes said, her body still shaking, but calming down with Sam's touch, "I have to get a lawyer and I want a restraining order, she said, her voice quiet and low, then she looked over at Cooper:
"Do you have all the stuff Karofsky found out about me?"
"Yes. I brought all of the audio recordings and video footage with me."
"Thank you."
"Getting a lawyer is a good idea. Keeping all of the information I give to you could also be beneficial in case you go to court. I'm not sure about the restraining order as I think a legal counsel will better serve you with advice about that. I do know some excellent family law attorneys that I can refer you to."
"I hope they're not too expensive."
"Don't worry about money," Sam said, "I'm willing to pay anything."
"I know these attorneys personally. Something could be worked out," Cooper said, sipping his coffee, "I'm sorry for the anguish you've been through these past weeks."
"I'm sorry too. I'm also tired."
"This is a lot to take in," Cooper said.
"How did Karofsky die?" Sam asked.
Cooper rapped his fingers against the table and stared ahead at nothing in particular for a few silent moments then he said:
"That's a long, sordid tale, I would rather not disclose. He was an awful man, so his death is a gift to humanity."
For a brief second, Sam wondered if Cooper killed him, he didn't know where this thought came from, maybe because he felt there was more to everything than what Cooper was revealing, but in the end it didn't matter; he helped Mercedes find out the truth and for that Sam was grateful.
"I appreciate all that you've done for us," Sam said, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Lunch was somber. Mercedes picked at her food and was lost in her own thoughts. Sam and Cooper chatted a little, Cooper wasn't exactly an open book, so Sam tried to keep it light, and mentioned a few non-controversial current events and Cooper gave his opinion on each one. When there was a lull in the conversation, Cooper pointed at Mercedes' ring and said:
"I suppose I should congratulate you two on your engagement."
Mercedes looked up from her plate, a bit startled, but then she smiled.
"Thank you. Sam is a wonderful man."
"He couldn't have chosen a more worthy woman. I'm very happy for you both."
"I know I'm blessed," Sam said, kissing Mercedes cheek.
"An emerald engagement ring is uncommon," Cooper said, rising from the table and going to the coffee maker where he poured himself another cup, "You know emeralds symbolize hope, peace, and growth. It's also believed that they can increase fertility."
Sam's heart dropped at the mention of fertility, but he only smiled and said:
"That's interesting."
"You know, I think I will have something to eat, do you mind if I warm up a plate in the microwave," Cooper asked, "The only thing I've had today were bran flakes and this coffee."
"Help yourself," Mercedes said.
Cooper piled his plate with pancakes and bacon and put it in the microwave, while he stood by waiting for it to warm up, he said, "Mercedes, please talk to an attorney before contacting your in-laws, they don't know that you know what they did, and you're still sorting everything out."
"I won't but I would love to curse them out."
"I don't blame you," Cooper said as the microwave beeped and he took his food out and sat down again to the table, "I think they're actions are reprehensible and appalling, to subject you and their granddaughter to that filth Karofsky, is terrible."
Mercedes nodded and laid her head on Sam's shoulder.
"I know… do they think I'm still in Tennessee?
"Probably. Karofsky didn't know where you were. There's something else about him I think you should know."
"What's that?"
"The boy who shot your husband worked for Karofsky; he was his prostitute."
Mercedes closed her eyes, shaking her head.
"I'd rather not hear any more. I don't know what to say."
Cooper gazed at her with empathy and regret.
"I'm sorry to upset you."
"I understand I just… I never imagined any of this. It keeps getting worse."
"Baby, I can't believe they did this to you," Sam said, "What right do they have invading your privacy? Your life?"
"It's because they love Abby and they think they know what's best for her. But I also know that someday I will forgive them, just not now. I also don't want Abby around them."
Mercedes' statement amazed Sam; and he loved her even more; he wished he could be as forgiving, but he didn't think he could ever forgive what the Tinsleys did to Mercedes.
HEALING HEARTS
Abby woke up and heard her mother and Sam talking downstairs in the kitchen. She smelled bacon and pancakes. She looked at her watch on the nightstand and saw that it was 1:30. Her head ached. She rubbed her eyes and picked up the magnifying glass. Holding it made her feel safe because somehow it had the power to fix things. She got out of bed and put on her robe and slippers. She went to the bathroom and washed her face; her hair looked rather wild so she pulled it back in one big Afro puff; she stared at herself in the mirror and saw how her eyes were red. Tears did that. She felt sick and sat on the floor, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, until the sick feeling went away. Then she got up and brushed her teeth. She went back into the bedroom and tucked the magnifying glass into the pocket of her robe and went downstairs. She wanted to hug her mother and Sam and let them know she was all right. She hated to worry them especially after they stayed up all night with her because she kept having nightmares about her Daddy getting shot over and over again no matter what she did to change things. When she walked into the kitchen, she was surprised to see Cooper sitting at the table eating pancakes and bacon, and when he saw her, his eyes lit up and he smiled.
"Miss Abby, how wonderful to see you."
Abby walked over to him and gave him a hug. He patted her head and hugged her tight.
"I know," he said, "Did it help you to see?"
Abby took the magnifying glass out of her pocket, and nodded.
"The truth? Or what you think is the truth?"
Abby wasn't sure how to answer the question. It sounded like a riddle. She pulled her notebook out of her pocket and wrote a note.
I don't know.
"That's ok," he said, hugging her again, "The truth will come to you."
Abby pulled away from his embrace and looked over at her mother and Sam who sat there watching them with curious expressions. She went to them and gave them each a hug.
"Are you feeling better, Sugar Plum?" Sam asked, kissing her cheek, "Did you get enough rest."
Abby nodded. Her mother kissed her forehead.
"You must be hungry, I'll fix you a plate, ok?"
Abby wrote a note to Sam and Mercedes.
I want to show Cooper something in the living room.
They looked at her and finally her mother said.
"Ok, but don't be long."
Abby looked at Cooper and motioned for him to come with her. He stood up and followed her out of the kitchen, as they walked into the living room, she grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight and he squeezed back. Somehow she knew he would understand. It was something she couldn't explain but only felt, and even though her mother and Sam loved her and wanted to understand, they couldn't understand it. She led him to the window by the fireplace and handed him the magnifying glass. Cooper stared at the frost-covered window.
"You like looking at the frost crystals?"
Abby nodded.
Cooper held the magnifying glass up the window and peered through it, gazing at the intricate snowflake-like designs that covered the glass panes.
"Beautiful," he said, "What do they do for you?"
Abby held his hand again, opening her mouth but no sound came out. She began to shake a little, oh, why couldn't she fight it? She wanted so much to fight it and make her voice alive again… to scream or feel something. Cooper sat the magnifying glass on the windowsill, and hugged her.
"You have to be ready for that. I know it's inside you, but you must be prepared for it to be released. You're still on your journey."
Abby held onto to him and nodded, letting her tears run onto his shoulder. She then pulled away, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and wrote him a note.
I can find how they start and end. How they work.
"Yes."
I started what ended my Daddy.
"Life indeed has a beginning and end and we must see things close up. But we also need to see them faraway."
Abby narrowed her eyes, thinking about what he said. Sometimes she pulled the magnifying glass back to get a different picture, and other times she wanted to see more details and got as close as she can.
"How close was the magnifying glass to that truth?"
Abby closed her eyes. Thinking of that day in bits and pieces. Cherry Slurpee splashing on the floor, blood covering her father's overalls, pale kid screaming about killing everybody, she took a step back, and saw her Daddy's truck, the sunshine on his dark skin, his deep voice humming along to the radio. Everything felt good that day. It was a good pattern day but ended up horribly, then she took another step back and saw a different day with her mother and father in the park; her parents had been fighting about something, she couldn't remember what it was and the sun was shining on that day too, but then they played Frisbee and everybody was laughing and the day ended with a trip to Dairy Queen and then watching The Princess & The Frog when they got home and it was such a wonderful day, she could taste the caramel ice cream sundae on her tongue, smell the fresh cut grass, and even recalled how her parents apologized to each other and made up with a hug and kiss in the middle of the park. The further she pulled the magnifying glass away in her mind, the more she saw, what was she seeing? It was like working out a hard math problem, she bit her lip, pulling back from the memories she re-ran in her mind since her Daddy was killed. Cooper touched her arm.
"Abby?"
She opened her eyes.
"What do you see?"
She saw how beginnings and endings simply happened. Some beginnings were bad and turned good and other beginnings were good and turned bad. She couldn't stop or control any of it. She wrote a note.
The patterns are broken.
"What else?"
I only know what I know. I can't know anything else until I learn it.
"And?"
I know I wanted to go to 7-11. I didn't know what would happen. I could never know that."
"How far back do you have to pull the magnifying glass? It helped you see things, now you have to see the different angles."
Abby took the magnifying glass from Cooper and held it up to the window, up close, she saw each design, the tiny lines and hexagon shapes, but when she was too close she only saw part of what made the crystal, so she moved further away and saw more of the beauty, how the lines intersected and ran together. The further she pulled away, the more she could see, but then the details weren't as clear. So she alternated between pulling away and getting close. She was too close to what happened, how could she see anything?
"Do you understand now Abby? How you were in it?"
Abby put the magnifying glass down and hugged Cooper. She was too close. So close she couldn't see the whole picture. Cooper understood what was locked inside her, even though she was fumbling toward it, he shined a light on it and guided her.
"You didn't kill him," Cooper said, stroking the top of her head as he hugged her, "You were in a random sequence of events. That's how life works. Patterns are broken all the time and remade into something else and no matter how hard we try to predict outcomes, well life, God, or the Universe, shows us otherwise. It's beautiful chaos, I suppose."
Abby understood some of what he said. Cooper didn't talk like any adult she had ever met, but he treated her as if she were his equal and could understand his riddles.
"You are a remarkable girl. And your voice will come when the time suits you. That's not for anyone else to decide."
Abby nodded and she gazed up at him; she saw tears in his crazy blue eyes that reminded her of the pictures of oceans she saw on postcards, different shades of blue running together. He blinked and then the tears disappeared. Abby knew he didn't cry very much, because of the way he got rid of the tears as if they were cause for shame. She wrote him a note.
I see you cry and I don't care.
Cooper smiled and took a blue silk handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped her face.
"Miss Abby, I must be going."
Abby clutched his hand.
"Don't worry. I'll stay in touch. I want to know all about your journey. And I want you to know something."
Abby tilted her head, waiting for what he had to say next:
"Life is change. Without it, living would grow stale and old. You deserve the good things, so treasure them."
Abby picked up her notebook and showed him a drawing of her, Sam, and her mother.
"You deserve them," Cooper said, his fingers tracing the pencil sketch, "Cherish it."
They walked back into the kitchen together, hand in hand, and Abby felt better than she had in a long time. Her mother and Sam were talking and stopped when they saw her and her mother went to her, giving her a hug.
"Your food is ready."
Abby looked up and saw that her mother had been crying and Sam's eyes had tears in them too, though he was smiling at her.
"After you eat and shower, all of us are going for a walk," he said.
Abby noticed that they both were dressed in a similar fashion, heavy wool sweaters, and faded jeans, she knew it wasn't on purpose that it just sort of happened, but she liked it. They loved her, and she would explain to them all the things she couldn't say, whether they understood or not, it didn't matter, because they were her family, and would take journeys with her and laugh and cry with her and sing Irish lullabies and fill her room with nightlights.
She sat down next to Sam and hugged him.
"There now Sugar Plum, we're here for you," he said.
Her mother placed a plate of food in front of her and Abby began eating the fluffy pancakes drizzled with pure maple syrup and crispy bacon on the side. Sam made the best pancakes in the world and she didn't realize how hungry she was until she started eating. Sam said his pancakes were so good because he sang to them while they cooked; it makes them happy, he would say winking at her and breaking out into that old 80s tune Jack and Diane, as he flipped the golden cakes on the hot griddle. Abby loved Sam's voice, it sounded like love and made her feel safe. The adults chatted as she ate; she only caught snippets of what they said, something about the weather, the best coffee in Germany, and Cooper saying he wanted to beat traffic and get on the road.
"I've got a few clients I need to see," he said, lingering by the kitchen sink where he placed his empty mug and plate.
"Thank you again for all of your help," her mother said.
Cooper smiled.
"You're welcome. Thank you for lunch."
"I'll walk you to the door," Sam said.
Cooper nodded at Abby as he left the kitchen; and she saw a rare sparkle in his eyes; she wondered what pain he hid, and why it took him so long to shine from the inside out. Once her mother said that everybody felt pain, but how they healed from it was a different story.
ooo
After she was finished eating, Abby showered and dressed and the family went for a walk around the neighborhood, she walked between Sam and her mother, holding their hands, as the cold wind blew in their faces, and the snow fell from the sky. It felt good to be outside, even though it was freezing. She wanted to breathe the fresh air, and she felt a peace inside her, like she did when she woke up in the morning and heard her mother singing in the kitchen.
As they walked passed the ice and snow covered houses, Abby swung their arms, and soon they were laughing, for no reason, just the joy of being together as a family and taking a simple walk was enough for them to feel good. When they got back to their house, Sam started a fire in the fireplace and her mother made hot chocolate and they popped popcorn using a popcorn popper instead of the microwave kind. Abby liked watching the popcorn pop under the clear plastic dome while her mother cooked the hot chocolate on the stove using baker's chocolate, vanilla, sugar and milk. When the drinks were ready, her mother poured each of them a cup and placed them on a tray and then she and Abby buttered and salted the popcorn. They took everything into the living room where Sam was lounging on the couch, looking at an old photo album.
"What's that sweetie?" Mercedes said as she placed the tray of hot drinks on the coffee table and Abby set the big bowl of popcorn next to it.
"Oh, I'm just looking at some old photos of Grandpa Heinrich when he was a little boy," Sam said, and showed them a black and white photo of a little blond boy that looked a lot like Sam, standing next to a goat in a field of wildflowers.
"You look just like him," she said.
"Yeah, we have the same big mouth," Sam said laughing as he picked up a mug of hot chocolate.
"Well, I happen to love this mouth," she said, kissing him on the lips.
"He would've loved you and Abby," he said.
Abby smiled at the picture of the little boy. She pointed to the goat and looked at Sam.
"That was his pet goat Sally."
Abby continued looking at the other black and white photos of Sam's relatives and realized that she never saw any pictures of her mother's parents. She wrote her a note.
Do you have pictures of Grandma and Grandpa Jones?
Mercedes stared at the note, not saying anything and Abby regretted asking her about it. When her mother finally spoke, her voice was small and sad:
"I do have a few pictures. I'll show them to you sometime."
Abby nodded and patted her mother's hand. Sam closed the album.
"I think we've had enough of memory lane for now. Besides, I have something I want to discuss."
"What's that?" Mercedes asked.
"When we go back to Tennessee, I want us to start looking at houses. I want a home that we picked out together because the house we're living in now represents a life I want to move on from. And we don't even have to stay in Tennessee, we can go somewhere else, all I know is that I want a new home with you and Abby."
Abby liked the idea of moving to a new house. She looked at her mother to gauge her expression.
"I think that's a good idea," Mercedes said, sipping her hot chocolate, "I want our house to be something we choose together as a family too."
Abby nodded in agreement and Sam smiled at them.
"I know we have a lot of stuff to deal with but I'm grateful that you two are a part of my life. I love you both very much."
They cuddled into a group hug and Abby felt happy, loved, and protected, the nightmares growing dimmer in her mind, and then she had a thought. She wrote a note.
The person following us is gone?
Sam tugged her Afro puff playfully and said:
"Yes, we're safe now."
Abby needed no other explanation. All that mattered is that they moved forward and didn't think about the past or future. She stayed in that moment, because moments like these only lasted so long like soap bubbles that floated in the wind, they drifted about, with pretty rainbows on the surface and just as quickly as they formed, they suddenly popped and their magic and beauty ceased to exist. Abby used to try to catch soap bubbles all the time, holding onto them, coaxing them to stay in her little hands, but her efforts were futile, so for now, she decided to stay in the bubble for as long as she could and not hold it, but live it and feel it instead, feel the love radiate from her mother and Sam as they hugged her, listen to the winter wind howling and the crackling fireplace, taste the sweet chocolate and salty popcorn on her tongue, smell the Ivory soap and cocoa butter lotion on their skin as she melted into their fierce embrace, she stayed rooted in that moment, until it evaporated into the air and hopefully another one would come along that was even better than the last.
ooo
Cooper canceled his other appointments and drove to Nashville. His mind was jumbled with a million thoughts. He decided to visit Blaine and Kurt. When he arrived at their white, two-story colonial house that twinkled with blue Christmas lights, he wondered why on earth he came there. He and Blaine were far from close, and Cooper figured that was because of the age gap or because he never connected to people the way Blaine did. Cooper was pensive, quiet, his blue eyes recording everything he saw unfold before him. While Blaine was the "life of the party" with his good looks, charm and pleasant singing voice. They were too different to ever find a common ground, but now he found himself at his little brother's front door. He rang the doorbell. A few minutes later, the door opened and Blaine stood there with his baby daughter Carrie on his hip, she was in ruffled pink pajamas and a pink pacifier was in her mouth.
"Cooper!" Blaine said at the sight of his brother, "What are you doing here?"
Not sure how to answer, Cooper shrugged.
"Just thought I would drop in."
Blaine stared at him as if Cooper had temporarily lost his mind and then waved him inside.
"Come on in, I was just folding laundry."
"Well, that's domestic," Cooper said following him inside the house which smelled like meatloaf and potatoes.
"I'm also cooking dinner," Blaine said over his shoulder, as Cooper followed him down the narrow hallway into the brightly lit living room where a playpen was set up in front of the TV which now showed an episode of the Teletubbies. Blaine put Carrie in the playpen and Cooper took off his coat and sat down on the brown leather couch, above the television hung a picture of Blaine and Kurt on their wedding day, both of them looking dapper in their black tuxedos.
"Where's Kurt?"
"At the theater," Blaine said, smoothing down Carrie's curly hair, "He wants to get in a few rehearsals before the opening night. We're doing Annie Get Your Gun."
"So business is good," Cooper said, leaning back against the couch.
"Yes, it's great."
"That's good," Cooper said and then the two brothers were silent. Blaine sat down beside him.
"What brings you here?"
"That's the second time you've asked me that."
"Sorry, Coop, but I never see you so… is something wrong? Are Sam and Mercedes ok?"
"They're fine and we caught the guy."
"That's wonderful. Kurt and I were worried. I guess you can't tell me a lot of details."
"No."
Again the silence filled the room. Cooper felt an uneasiness creep into his chest. He watched Carrie play with a blue stuffed rabbit, twisting its nose with her little fat hands.
"She's getting big."
"Yeah."
"Is she named after our great Aunt Caroline?"
"No. Kurt's mother Carol. I've told you before." Blaine said, clearly annoyed, "Would you like something to drink?"
"I don't recall you ever telling me – never mind, yes, I'll have a glass of water."
When Blaine left to get his water, Cooper regretted coming to his house. They had nothing to say to each other and now he had already upset him. So what if he couldn't remember whom the child was named after? It was all so preposterous. Carrie grew tired of torturing the rabbit's nose and tossed it out of the playpen, she then picked up a yellow rattle and shook it with all her might, it was filled with bells, and the noise irritated Cooper to no end. Blaine returned with a cobalt blue glass of water filled to the brim. Cooper recognized the glasses as his wedding gift to them and was happy they were being used.
"I'm sorry I got bitchy earlier," Blaine said, "I thought I told you."
"It's fine."
Carrie continued shaking the rattle until Blaine took it away from her and she spit out her pacifier and began screaming at the injustice. Cooper found her tantrum worse than hearing the rattle. Blaine was unfazed by it all and picked her up.
"Pipe down, I think you're hungry. You haven't had supper," Blaine looked over at Cooper, "I'm going to get her bottle, I'll be right back."
Cooper nodded and Blaine left the room again with a screaming Carrie in his arms, about ten minutes later, he returned with a white burping cloth tossed over his shoulder and Carrie was greedily sucking a bottle full of formula. He sat down in a rocking chair adjacent to the couch and continued feeding her.
"She's temperamental like Kurt," Blaine said.
Cooper recalled how fussy Blaine was as a baby and it drove him nuts. He cried at all hours of the night and had the annoying habit of throwing his toys against the wall. Cooper often thought of ways of how to give his baby brother away to a family that could tolerate his insufferable behavior.
"She gets it from you," Cooper said, sipping his water.
Blaine laughed.
"Really?"
"Yes, you were a difficult baby. You cried more than anything else."
Blaine didn't respond. He just smiled at Cooper and gazed down at Carrie, watching her with loving expression as she drank the formula. Cooper felt like he was intruding on a private father-daughter bonding moment; who was he really? He only saw Carrie once and then she had been a sleeping newborn that resembled Winston Churchill; he was Blaine's brother but… did that mean anything? Familial bonds? He finished the water and sat the empty glass on the table. He stood up.
"I should be going. I want to check on a friend."
"But you just got here. At least stay until Kurt comes back."
Cooper shook his head.
"I'm sorry I can't wait."
He then knelt down in front of Blaine and hugged him and Carrie; it was awkward and comforting all at once. He touched Blaine's forehead and saw the scar he got when he was five when he fell on a piece of broken glass. Blaine screamed and yelled, blood running down his cherub face, and Cooper cried with his brother that day, when he picked him up from the pavement and cradled him, much in the same way that Blaine now held Carrie. He ran his finger across the scar.
"You healed well."
Blaine looked at him with wide eyes; his eyes shined with unshed tears, he nodded.
"So did you."
Cooper squeezed his shoulder and stood up. He got his coat and let himself out.