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Standard disclaimer.
By eight-thirty, everyone had left the table and retreated to their rooms and Sam was still muttering under his breath.
Inside Mercedes' room, she grabbed a few pencils, notebooks and some reading material. At nine o'clock sharp, she went to the bottom of the stairs and rang the dinner bell.
"Ladies, it's time," she called out. Everyone but Quinn, trooped down the stairs, most looking a little uncertain. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Rachel asked,
"You really think you can teach us something, Miss Jones? Most of us didn't get very far in school."
"Of course, I can, Rachel," she assured her with a pat on the shoulder. "This isn't that difficult and I'm sure you're a smart girl."
"Good. Cause, my dads won't let me come home, unless I better myself."
"I don't own any books," one of the twins offered.
"Don't worry. I have a few and I'm sure I can find some around town, but really, you don't need them. Don't you ladies have any other clothes?"
They examined their bright, revealing dresses and shook their heads.
"We don't have any reason to wear anything else," Rachel said. Mercedes frowned.
"I will take you shopping. Now let's get to work."
Sam was seated behind his desk, but grudgingly stepped out, leaving the office to the women. Mercedes passed out pencils and papers.
"Some of you could become teachers, nurses…or if you have a talent…" She caught herself there. "I mean...other talents, you could follow your dream."
"Who'd hire a bunch of whores," Fern asked.
"You aren't anymore. From now on, you'll be ladies and you'll get a fresh start…and when you leave here, no one will care about your past…people might not even know of it."
"How come you ain't married?" Fern asked. "What good does it do to be educated and respectable, if we end up like you?" she finished.
"I have chosen to be a single woman," Mercedes said, loftily.
It wasn't quite true, but these girls didn't have to know that no one asked her.
Besides, her standards were incredibly high. She was looking for a well-bred, polished gentleman.
From where she stood by the window, she could see Sam out in the garden, rubbing the head of the old goat. He was the furthest thing from that.
Maybe the Lieutenant…
After a while, the girls were dismissed, until after dinner, when their talents would be explored, and worked on, to be perfected as time went on.
Mercedes sat down behind the desk with a sigh.
She enjoyed teaching, and the girls seemed pathetically eager to learn and better themselves.
Dealing with Sam Evans was her biggest problem.
She didn't think he'd let her cut into his profits without a fight. But she didn't intend to back down from the handsome devil, come what may.
It was almost noon.
She heard Carmen ringing the lunch bell.
This was as good a time as any, to work on table manners.
If these girls were to ever blend back into society, they would have to learn table manners.
Everyone was already gathered around the table, when Mercedes joined them.
"We had a good class this morning, ladies. I'm going to assign you some things to do on your own and dismiss you for the afternoon. Now, as Carmen serves, we will learn how a proper lady eats."
Quinn gave her the stink-eye and coldly said,
"We know how to eat."
"She's teaching us to be ladies, Quinn," Fern said.
"I don't wanna be no lady."
"At this rate, you'll never be," Mercedes started. "You can start by getting your elbows off the table."
Quinn defiantly kept her elbows on the table. Mercedes ignored her and said,
"Ladies, you don't tuck your napkin in the top of your clothes, you spread it on your lap."
All eyes turned to Sam, who had his tucked into his shirt collar. He reached up and yanked it out.
"I knew that," he said. The girls giggled and Mercedes rolled her eyes.
Carmen began serving bowls of chili.
Fern started eating, as soon as hers was put before her, so did Sam. Mercedes ignored him.
"Fern," she softly said, "It's polite to wait until everyone has been served, before you begin to eat. And dip your spoon away from you."
Sam and Quinn glared at her, but the others complied.
"Look," Faith said, "Are we doing it right?" Mercedes smiled.
"Yes, you are. You all could eat soup at the best hotel in New York, without embarrassing yourselves."
"I ain't embarrassed," Quinn snapped. The other girls turned and stared her down. Rachel said,
"Why do to be so difficult?" Quinn snorted.
"Why? You'll still be nothing but whores. Who're you kidding?"
"That's not very kind," Mercedes said to her.
"And who are you kidding? Your aunt was the biggest whore in Texas."
Mercedes heard the others draw quick breaths and she felt tears come to her own eyes. Surprisingly, Sam stepped in.
"Shut up Quinn. Sue was a helluva lot better person than you'll ever be."
With a curse, Quinn stood up from the table, ran out of the room and up the stairs.
There was an awkward silence afterwards. Mercedes looked at Sam and said,
"Thank you." He shrugged.
"I didn't do it for you. I don't like anybody judging Sue Sylvester. She did what she had to do, to survive and take care of others too."
They finished the lunch in silence and the girls scattered throughout the hotel.
Mercedes went upstairs to get her parasol, then she went to the kitchen and looked in the door.
"Carmen, lunch was lovely." The old woman grinned at her.
"I don't have to work here, you know. Miss Sue left me plenty of money."
"I know. Thank you for staying on."
"I owe it to Miss Sue," the old woman said. And then, "We all owe her a lot." Mercedes didn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally, she said,
"I'm going out. I'll see about finding a nice place for the girls to shop."
"For these girls?"
"Yes. They need nicer things to wear." She started to walk away. Carmen asked,
"Aren't you taking the car?"
"No, it's a nice day. I'll walk."
"Miss Mercedes, for what it's worth, I think Miss Sue would have closed down the upstairs, too. But she had big obligations to see about."
"What kind of obligations?" The old lady hesitated and then got very busy at the sink.
"Never mind." Mercedes waited, but Carmen said nothing more.
"You aren't going to tell me?"
"If Miss Sue wanted you to know, she would have told you." She gave Mercedes a long look. "Sometimes the past just needs to bury itself."
That didn't make any sense to Mercedes, but Carmen said nothing more.
After a moment, she opened her parasol to protect herself from the hot sun, and went out on the front porch. Sam glowered at her from the porch swing.
"You self-righteous... You don't really think you can change those girls lives, do you?"
"Thank you for your compliment," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But, I'm at least going to try…which is more than you've done, Mr. Evans."
"Most of them were already working here when I came, and they were glad for the job."
"I think they are eager for a change."
"Look lady, if they weren't working here, they'd be on their backs in some other place worse than this." Mercedes felt her face flame.
"You're just sore because I'm about to cut into your profits."
"Aha! You admitted it."
"Your profits are not my problem."
She went down the steps and walked briskly down the street, passed the big birdbath and Sherwin happily munching on the day lilies in the front yard.
The beauty of the day brought happiness to her and she started to hum, as she walked along.
Mercedes found herself in one of the local general stores, shortly after.
A short man, with a face like a bulldog, and bushy eyebrows, came out from the back.
"You must be Miss Jones, Sue's niece," he said. Surprise masked her features. "News travel fast in a small town. I'll bet Sam doesn't like that."
He wiped his hands on his white apron.
"Everyone seems very concerned about what Mr. Evans likes…everyone but me."
"He ain't used to having women rule him, ma'am. Mostly, they just swoon and do whatever he wants." She smiled a little too sweetly.
"Swell, here's one who won't. Now, I'd like to find out about the clothes stores around town."
"Yes ma'am. Are you looking for a nice dress or two, for you?"
"Maybe, but I want to take the girls at the Lily on a little shopping trip. They need more modest clothes."
"Oh, Sam ain't gonna like…"
"Like that? Changes are being made at the Lily." He nodded.
"Will already told me."
"Does everyone in this town gossip about everybody's business?" She was a bit put-out.
"It's a small town. What else are we gonna do?" He grinned and threw his hands in the air. "What are you intending to do with those girls, Miss?"
"I'm going to turn them into ladies."
"Ladies?"
"Yes, ladies."
"Wow! Sam ain't gonna…"
"I know, I know. But it's something Mr. Evans is going to have to learn to live with. I'm just as stubborn as he is."
Later that evening, the bartender and his two dealers, arrived at the Texas Lily for the evening shift. All three Texans stood staring at the big ribbon across the stairs.
"What the hell…?" One swore.
"Don't even ask," Sam snapped. "I'm just fixin' to go upstairs and deal with this."
He yanked the red ribbon aside and found that it was tied too tightly. So, he stooped to go under it.
He took the stairs two at a time and marched to Mercedes' door. He banged as hard as he could and shouted,
"Hey, in there!" Mercedes came to the door and opened it.
"Yes?" Behind her, Sam could see the girls, all but Quinn, sitting around the room with paper and pencils in their hands.
"Listen, about your damn banner on the stairs…"
"What did I tell you about swearing? It shows a limited…"
"So, you've told me." He brushed past her.
"I did not invite you into my room, sir." He ignored her.
"You, girls, why aren't you getting ready, and into your costumes? Customers will be arriving soon."
They all looked towards Mercedes, who was standing by the door with a pout on her lips.
"We're having classes, Mr. Evans."
"Oh, hell…"
"Uh-uh. Swearing is off-limits up here. I've already told you, the girls will not be coming down tonight, or any other night."
"But…"
"Also, any man who tries to come up the stairs…and that includes the back stairs, will wish he hadn't."
"What?"
"We've already discussed this. Are you forgetful or stupid?"
"Lady, I assure you, I'm neither. I didn't think you meant it. Girls, think of all that money you'll lose…"
"Sorry Sam. Miss Jones is using her own money to help us," Faith said and her twin nodded. "Most of us has got nothing. Our families don't want us at home, unless we clean up our act. And frankly, I'm tired of looking into a host of different guy's faces, every night," she finished.
"We're all gonna try and hopefully get better jobs. Who knows? We might find good men, to really care for us…"
"Yeah, we wanna be like Miss Jones," Rachel threw in.
Sam turned to Mercedes.
She was smiling.
Her brown eyes pierced his soul.
She had a lovely smile and a graceful neck for someone so short. Why had he never noticed this before?
For a long moment, he fought to control his temper.
He imagined putting his long fingers around that neck and giving her a good shake.
"You can't do this," he gritted.
"Course I can. And please leave my sign on the stairs, because, if any hooligan decides to come up here, I intend to whack him, with one of Carmen's big frying pans."
She gestured towards the iron skillet on her dresser.
"Now, would you please return to your whiskey and your cards, Mr. Evans? We're going to be working for the next several hours." Sam looked passed her, at the girls.
"Don't listen to her. You all got good lives, don't you? Why would you want to get married?"
"All women want to bet married," Michelle said.
"Miss Jones, I'll talk to my lawyer…" Mercedes smiled wider.
"We've already done that. Remember? I can assure you, I'm within my legal rights…"
"You don't understand. The guys won't come for drinks and cards, if there are no pretty ladies…"
"That's not my problem," Mercedes said and turned her back to him.
"Class, let's get back to our studies. Remember, a real lady never uses the word 'ain't'. You won't attract a real gentleman if you do. And later, I want to explore your talents."
"Sam uses the word 'ain't'," Rachel pointed out.
"Exactly. Case in point," she replied.
Sam was speechless and that was unusual for him.
It had never occurred to him, that the girls didn't love their jobs and would rather be doing something else, or worse, being housewives.
He'd always thought they were happy to work at the Lily. But he'd also thought, that in a showdown, Miss Jones would be bluffing.
Evidently not.
He turned and stomped back down the stairs, ducking under the banner, for the second time.
The two card dealers and the bartender were still standing there. Another guy, the piano player, had joined them.
"Don't even ask," Sam snapped.
"We ain't gonna have no girls tonight?" the bartender asked.
"No! Apparently, they're in school. That woman's got a set of principles on her...she makes me so mad," Sam said, marching over to the bar.
"Give me a whiskey," he said and the bartender came around behind the bar.
"You sure? You don't usually drink, Sam."
"That woman is driving me to do it. Now pour."
A handful of men were already leaning on the bar.
A couple of townsmen, a cowboy and two off-duty soldiers.
The piano player sat down at the piano and began playing Let it Be. Sam rolled his eyes at the selection.
"Hey Sam, drawled the cowboy. "What's the meaning of that banner on the stairs?"
"What does it look like? Sue's niece has taken over her share and she's closing down the upstairs. If you're gonna get any, you'll have to marry it," he grumbled.
"Marry?" All the men at the bar said, in unison and turned as pale as toads' bellies.
"We've still got poker, keno, music and good booze," Sam offered and then, "That's more than you can get in some places."
"If there ain't gonna be any girls, I ain't gonna stay," one of the off-duty soldiers said.
"And I could go down to the Bucket O' Blood. It ain't much, but it's got girls," said the cowboy.
"Boys, I've got no answers for you, at least not now," Sam said.
It was going to be a long night, he thought, as he took his drink over to the poker table and sat down.
"Hey, play something lively," he shouted to the piano player.
"Anything in particular, Sam?" the piano man asked. From upstairs, Sam could hear the girls laughing and singing.
"Just make it lively and loud."
Just then, Quinn came down the stairs, climbing over the ribbon.
She wore about enough tight red satin, to cover a broom handle, Sam thought.
The men let out a collective sigh of appreciation.
"Evenin' fellas," she said with a flirty smile on her face. She waggled her hips, as she crossed the floor and went to the bar. "Who wants to buy me a drink?"
There was a stampede to do so and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the cowboy and said,
"See? The others will come down soon."
But, alas, they didn't.
Only Quinn and she amused the boys at the bar, and drifted from table to table. But not once did she try to take anyone upstairs.
The place grew crowded, but most of the guys left, when they discovered no more girls would come down.
One drunken guy decided to defy the red banner though, and went upstairs.
Sam watched from his poker table, as the poor devil was chased back down the same stairs, seconds later, by an angry and protective Miss Jones and her frying pan.
The guy tripped over the banner and fell on the floor, face down.
"And stay out!" She screamed after him. The piano player stopped playing and there was an uneasy silence, broken only by the girls' voices upstairs.
"…the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains…." Sam shouted to the piano player then,
"Play something fast and loud," he ordered.
"Yes, sir," the piano-man replied and began belting out Camp-town Races with vigor.
Sam had a difficult time keeping his mind on his poker game.
He began to lose, which was very unusual for him and it did nothing to improve his mood.
Will Shuester came into the Lily just then and looked around.
He ambled over to the poker table, looking upstairs as he did so.
"Sam?"
"Don't ask?"
"This is serious," Will said, pulling up a chair.
"Tell me about it. You see how small the crowd is tonight?"
"I see. It'll get smaller, when word gets around there's no upstairs action."
"Will, shut up. You ain't telling me anything I don't already know."
Len, the piano player had stopped playing, to have a beer and in the sudden silence, the faint sounds of the girls singing the scales drifted down the stairs.
Will's mouth fell open.
"Just what the hell…?"
"Don't you know cursing or swearing shows a limited vocabulary?" Sam voiced.
"Huh?" Will said.
"That's what she said…Miss Jones. She's turning the girls into ladies…or trying to," Sam said. He frowned at the cards in his hand. No good.
"Miss Jones strikes me as pretty determined. The boys are all taking bets…"
"I already heard," Sam snapped and then, "Someone reshuffle that deck, so I can get a decent hand for a change."
"This woman is serious about ruining the local economy," Will said.
"I don't know what I can do with her. She won't take more money. Says she's got principles," Sam said defeatedly.
From upstairs, the sound of the girls chatting and one of them trying to sing, wafted downstairs.
Sam groaned aloud and yelled,
"Len, play something to drown that out."
The piano music started again and Sam gritted his teeth. There had to be a better solution for all, and he needed to come up with it.
Sam is in a conundrum. What can he do?