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I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Chasing Christmas Eve.
Mercedes left the pub and walked across the courtyard. She had an hour to rejuvenate herself, before her date with Sam, to try to figure out how exactly to tell him about her pseudonym, and worry about, if by doing so, she was about to blow the best thing that had happened to her.
After all, ruining one's life did run in her family.
What was it that made some people good at loving those in their lives and others self-destruct those same relationships...as her mom had with every relationship she'd ever been in?
And though she had always assumed she was nothing like her dad, she was starting to fear that wasn't true at all.
That in spite of herself, genes were genes...and the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.
She was thinking how much she hated that, as she walked by the alley and Steven flagged her down with a wave.
"What's up, dudette?"
"Nothing much," she said.
He shook his head.
"No use lying to Old Man Steven." He tapped a finger to his temple. "I know all. And I know you're...off."
Mercedes had to laugh.
"If that's true, then you tell me why."
"Simple," he said and stared into her eyes. "You're hiding your true self."
"What?" she asked, startled at the truth of that statement.
"Yeah, you're walking with your shoulders up to your ears and your eyes are on your feet. That tells me you're closed off, not wanting to share yourself. You're hiding from the world...and probably yourself."
She blinked and he smiled.
"So what did you think I meant? I've got a feeling, whatever you're hiding, is better than that bullshit I just made up."
'If only you knew. You weren't that far off the mark' she thought.
"Nothing. I'm just...tired. And maybe a little stressed," she said. "I'm not hiding anything. At all. Why would I? Hide anything, that is."
"Hmm. Say it one more time and maybe I'll believe you," Steven said. His smile was kind as he patted the bench next to him.
Mercedes sighed and sat.
"You're deceptively laid-back, but you're not really laid-back at all, are you?" she asked. "You're as sharp as a knife."
He laughed.
"Here," he said, and held out a clear plastic bag filled with brownies. "You need one."
'In the very worst possible way,' she thought.
So she took a brownie and dove in.
"So," Steven said, smiling, as Mercedes inhaled the brownie and licked her fingers. "About that thing you're hiding..."
She waggled a finger at him and eyed the bag of brownies again.
"Not yet," he said. "Let the first one settle for another minute. These are a rather potent batch."
Mercedes swallowed and stared at him, as his meaning sank in.
"You mean..." she started.
He flashed her a knowing smile.
"But..." She trailed off, a little horrified.
She'd smoked a few times in college, and had been a completely embarrassing lightweight, who'd spent the rest of the day giggling and eating everything in sight.
Old Man Steven shrugged and she narrowed her eyes.
"Steven, did I or did I not just eat a..." she lowered her voice "...special' brownie?"
"It's actually more like a space cake."
Mercedes just stared at him.
"It's cooked with cannabutter, see, which is butter that's been heated in a pan with..."
"Holy macaroni and cheese!" She covered her ears. "Don't tell me."
"It's okay." He pulled a lanyard from beneath his sweatshirt, with his laminated medical marijuana card attached. "It's legal. I've got a card and everything."
She dropped her hands.
"But I don't have a card!"
"This is California. You won't need one soon enough."
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "It's going to be okay." She gave herself a mental checkup. "And besides, I don't feel weird at all."
Which, she could admit to herself, was the teeniest, tiniest bummer.
She took another breath and nodded. Yep, she was fine.
Then, she looked at Steven, who also looked fine...ish.
How had he gone from whatever life he'd led to living in the alley? she wondered.
Did he have a family he'd left behind, like her dad did?
"I've got a question," Mercedes said.
"No worries. The only real calories come from the butter..."
"No, a question about you," she said.
"Research?"
"Yes," she said. "But it's personal." She paused. "My dad's not in the picture. By choice."
"Ah." Steven nodded. "And you're wondering if I have a family whose picture I'm not in."
"I know a lot of homeless people are homeless, because they have a mental illness, mostly untreated. But you seem..."
His mouth quirked.
"Normal?" he asked.
"Well, not entirely," she said and made him laugh.
"An honest woman," he said. "I like it. And yeah, I've chosen to live like this and not because of mental issues. Although, I can't claim to be entirely sane."
His smile faded.
"The truth is, I wasn't so good at being a father and husband. And when I say I wasn't good, I really mean that I was bad."
The brownie suddenly felt like lead in her gut.
"Did you hurt them?" she asked.
"Not like you think, not physically." He shook his head. "Never physically. But..." He closed his eyes. "I'm not proud of this, dudette. I worked around the clock, away from home. Traveled all the time. And the few times I wasn't gone, I was still in my head, exhausted and grumpy."
He paused.
"I was a self-centered, narcissistic asshole, who didn't give my kid or my wife the time of day."
"Did they leave you?" Mercedes asked.
"No. I left them."
He looked at her then, and she tried to swipe away the judgment that she knew was all over her face, but she was pretty sure she failed, because he gave a slow head shake.
"I wasn't this laid-back then," Steven said. "I was...uptight. Stressed out." His eyes flickered with guilt. "Derisive. I came home one day and my son was in the yard, riding his bike without a care in the world. I went off on his lack of drive, the ridiculousness of time wasting, and how life was too short to waste it doing jack-shit, when he could be out there changing the world for the better...like I thought I was doing."
He shook his head and closed his eyes.
"I didn't realize I was yelling and screaming, until my wife tried to pull me inside. And naturally, I turned on her as well. I had them both in tears and shaking in fear when I came to my senses and realized what I was doing."
"What happened?" Mercedes whispered.
"I left that night. I walked away, leaving them better off." He closed his eyes. "Most of my family never forgave me. Just my grandson, whose big heart has a lot to do, with the fact that he never saw me at my very worst."
"He sounds like a good guy."
Steven looked at her.
"He is. I live here because of him. He thinks he's taking care of me, but the truth is, I'm here watching over him, because, of all the people in my family, he's the most like me. The most likely to follow in my footsteps and ruin his life. And I can't let him do it. He's a lot of things, including way too smart for his own good and thinking he's always right, but..." he smiled "...thing is, he is always right. And he deserves more than following in my footsteps."
Mercedes stilled.
"Sam. Your grandson is Sam."
"Yeah." There was pride and fondness in Steven's eyes, but also more.
"You're worried about him," she said, and when he nodded, she asked, "Is that why you stay here? In the alley?"
Steven laughed.
"You sound horrified. I like it out here, you know. Sam has kept an apartment open for me, since he bought this place, and though it's filled temporarily, at the moment..." He gave her a knowing wink. "...I know he'd find me something else if I needed it. But I don't."
"Because...you're punishing yourself?" she asked.
He met her gaze, his own unusually solemn and serious.
"You've got to understand, just how much I royally screwed up my life. At every turn, I made bad choices...until a few years ago. Somehow, I managed to turn things around, at least a little, and Sam brought me here. He's surrounded himself with a nice, cozy community here in this building. He's trying, you see."
"Trying..."
"To not be me," Steven said.
Mercedes stared at the man, as things started to click into place...about who Sam was, what he wanted out of life, and how, no matter what he said, he didn't want to be alone.
That, in fact, being alone was one of his biggest fears.
"He's the closest now to getting what he needs, than he's ever been," Steven said. "Because of you."
"Me?" she asked.
"Yeah, you. You're the one who's shown him he can love."
"Oh, but you're wrong," Mercedes breathed softly, the air escaping her lungs. "We're not...I'm not the One."
"But you are."
"No," she said. "I'm not. I'm a writer. I'm...flighty. And quirky. And odd. I got on an airplane to San Francisco, because I couldn't get to the Caribbean. I'm disorganized and more than a little crazy."
Steven smiled.
"You're perfect."
"You've eaten too many of your own brownies," Mercedes said.
"True. But you're still the right one for my Sam."
Mercedes shook her head.
"I'm going home soon. In a week, actually."
The words, spoken aloud, made things seem far too real, and sadness welled up inside her chest.
"Wow!" she whispered. "Time sure went by fast here."
"So stay," he said simply.
"I can't. I have people counting on me."
"No one can make you do anything you don't want to do," he said. "Well, except for maybe a prison warden."
"Or family," she said.
He laughed wryly.
"Touché. I'd do anything for my grandson, including watching him make a big mistake by letting you go, simply because, his only stipulation to me being here, was that I not interfere in his life. I gave my word."
Mercedes was undoubtedly high as a kite, because that actually made some sense.
"I'd like to think, Sam would be proud to be like the man you are now, loving and caring," Mercedes said.
"You're very sweet," Steven said softly. "But I didn't tell you what made me turn things around. I fell in love again. Me and Mavis had six great months before I lost her."
"Oh no," Mercedes breathed. "She passed away?"
"No, she left. I finally met someone more screwed up than me." He smiled wryly. "The wanderlust took her and she had to go. I could've gone with her but..."
"But what?"
"It was time for me to be here, with my family." His eyes were fierce with love and memories, and shiny with pain. "So I had to let her go. Just as my family had let me go, all those years ago. It's what you do for those you love. But for the first time, I knew their pain. Still, those six months were the greatest months of my life. For once, work wasn't the focus of my world. Love was. And I promised myself I'd stick by Sam, until he learned the same thing."
"But sometimes people have to make their own mistakes," Mercedes said, knowing this from personal experience.
Because she'd walked away from her family. Same as her dad, same as Steven.
But she now knew what Steven also knew, that family was family. Even if you got stupid and walked, you went back.
No matter what.
And that's what she would do too. Go back. Even if she didn't want to.
Suddenly sad, and just as suddenly ravenous, Mercedes put her hands on her stomach.
"I've gotta go."
"Where to?" Steven asked.
"To eat. I'm starving."
He smiled and held out the bag.
"I've got ya covered."
Hi monni2215, long time no hear. But nice to hear from you.
Stay safe everyone! Much love to all of you.