A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and supporting. Trigger Warnings: Grief, mentions of loved ones' deaths, etc. Last depressing chapter I promise. More drama ahead but no more depressing reads because it's the most wonderful time of the year.
Chapter 12
Cedes
Nashville, Tennessee
December 21
After Sam had left her once again to face Will alone, Cedes sat down at the piano, her elbows landing on it with a loud clang. She put her face in her hands for a moment and let herself face the possible end to not just her relationship with Sam, but also her future with this mess with Will. When she was in Colorado, she finally understood how and why her grandmother and her mother had risked it all for love, but now, she also saw the futility of it.
It was really over between her and Sam.
This was twice now, no thrice, if she counted the proposal that never was, that they had gotten close and then it seemed they were destined to never be together forever. She wasn't going to keep getting burned, time after time. Three chances were enough. She couldn't take getting her heart stomped on again.
She could understand why he was hurt that Will knew about her grandma's death, and he didn't. This combined with seeing all those texts from Will on her phone had to confuse and hurt him. And yes, she knew, she hadn't exactly been honest and vulnerable with him when she had the chance, but did she really deserve to pay for not wanting to deal with the grief of grandma's death so dearly? Yes, they were both wrong, and this time, yes, she had caused the inch that allowed to takethe final mile of destroying his trust in her. But he could have chosen to love her and listen to her, but instead he walked out on her again.
Wallowing in these emotions were going to cause her to lose everything. She had to grow up, put her big girl panties on, and use her big girl energy to take care of business and not wallow in heartache and regrets. She got out her phone to take another look at the photo from the gossip site. It was grainy and a blur, but unmistakable that she and Will Schuester were embracing on a couch. The article that accompanied the photo was filled with hateful inaccuracies, and the comments were just as hateful.
Cedes Jones was a fat nothing and a nobody until Sam Evans came along. And even though she has lost some weight and had her seven seconds of fame, she'll be nothing and nobody after this, too.
She was only using Sam to cover an affair with a man old enough to be her dad. Hasn't she learned from Rachel, Emma, Holly, Susie, and his first wife Terri that Will is a pig. She will get what she deserves when he cheats on her with next year's winner! #CancelCedesJones
The only reason we were interested in Cedes Jones is because she's dating Sam Evans. And now she's gone and messed up her fifteen minutes of fame . . . time to cancel her! #samcedesover #Cedesisatramp #willcedesisgross
Well, I guess now we know the real reason Cedes Jones got as far as she did on America's Newest Star: she was screwing Will the boss. #CedesisawhorelikeRachel
What her fake fans and the gossip site did not know was what had been going on in that photo had not been the first time Will had crossed the line with her. It had started when she began recording songs with him: he'd touch her face when supposedly adjusting the microphone, allow his hand to linger on her arm too long when he greeted her, brush against her in a hallway when there was plenty of space for him to walk by. Come behind her and place his hands on her butt and waist when she couldn't dodge or stop him. She should have said something but she hadn't, because it had felt like she needed Will's support and approval to record a hit album. If she had called him out on his behavior, would anyone have believed her? There was not a single thing she would have been able to prove his less than obvious harassment of her. It just would have been her word against his.
Her phone ringing broke Cedes out of this reverie. "Would you care to give me the truth about what was going on in that photo?" Lauren's voice was angry, and Cedes could understand why. This was a PR nightmare.
"I promise you that what people think they see when they look at the photo is not what happened by a long shot. Lauren, I would never—"
"Cedes, things are never what they appear with men like handsy Will, and I know you well enough to know this isn't something you would do especially with a married man. But if we're going to deal with the PR nightmare this is becoming, I need some information."
"I was at Coachella with Tana, and it started out as the best day ever. But you know what I was going through then. I was still grieving my grandmother's sudden death and the fact that I hadn't been notified that she was dying. But on that day, I let myself relax a bit. I let myself enjoy singing in the festival. I was in the greenroom, when Will and his former bandmates from Acafellas came in . . ."
"Did Sandy offer you a brownie?"
Cedes winced. "Yes. I was going to head back to the tour buses and see what Tana was up to, but then I thought it wouldn't hurt to have something to eat, and we were just laughing and chatting but then it hit me. I went to sit on a couch to try to pull myself together and suddenly I was crying. Will came over to comfort me. I was high and out of my mind when I told him about my grandmother dying. He gave me this long hug, and it got uncomfortable, but I just sat there and let it happen. I should have pushed him away, but I didn't."
"You did nothing wrong. Will is known to be a handsy weasel. I wish I could have been there for you. Why don't you come to my office, and we can talk and try to come up with some kind of damage control? I'll send a car to pick you up."
"Can we do that later? I think at this point the damage has been done. Sam is angry at me. I'm angry at myself. And I really just want to be alone."
Lauren sighed. "Alright. But, Cedes? If Will Schuester is the only person you can confide in sweetie, you have a problem. You do have friends and a family, you know. People who care about you. And one last thing? I know losing your grandmother still hurts. I've lost people I cared about, too. But let me tell you what doesn't work when you're dealing with grief: pretending it doesn't exist. Denial is the beginning stages of grief. You're going to need to deal with it. Allow yourself some closure, or you won't be able to move forward."
After she hung up, Cedes stood still, thinking about what her manager had just said. Closure. Maybe Lauren was right. Closure was exactly what she needed, and it was possibly the only thing in her life she could control right now. She remembered her grandma saying to her all you need to do is take one step at a time, baby girl. This was something Grandma would always say to her when Cedes felt overwhelmed by too much schoolwork while in college, or too many gigs booked, or any other mess she'd ever managed to get herself into in life. Cedes decided that was how she was going to solve at least one of her problems and then see what she could do about the rest of them.
Out in the lobby, the studio assistant, a young woman named De'Wanda, looked up from her phone with a guilty look, like she had just been looking at the photo of Cedes with Will.
"Anything I can help you with, Miss Jones?"
"Could I get a car service, please?"
"But Mr. Schuester is upstairs waiting. He's here to work with you and Sam. He won't like it if you—"
"Mr. Evans had to leave," Cedes said firmly. "If he isn't here; then I don't need to be here either. Now, if you could please get me a car service?"
It worked. De'Wanda busied herself on the phone, and Cedes went outside to wait.
A black town car pulled up, and Cedes hopped in the back, collapsing against the cold leather seat in relief as she gave the driver the address of her apartment. As the car moved through Nashville, it seemed every place she passed sparked a memory of Sam: the Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center, the building that housed the America's Newest Star soundstage, the restaurant they had taken Grandma to and the costume shop. This pain wouldn't last forever, Cedes hoped—but it certainly felt very visceral right now.
The car had arrived at her apartment. She asked the driver to wait for her while she went inside to get something she needed.
Upstairs, her grandma's last present to her, the beautiful quilt was draped across the couch, and Cedes felt a pang of longing as she looked at it. She headed into her bedroom to find the keepsake box she bought especially to hold its content. It contained letters she had been writing to Grandma Sadie all year because when she was missing her granny too much it was easy to express her emotions in a letter telling her the things she would normally have told her on their frequent FaceTime calls. She lifted the lid of the box and saw that it was almost overfilled with letters she had written, mostly while on tour, and they spilled over the edge and out onto her bed.
My dearest Grandma, I can't believe it, I'm in Rome, Italy. I love it so much! You would, too. It feels like most of Europe but even older in history than some places that I have visited. I had one day to myself and probably should have rested but instead I went to the Rome Opera House alone and watched a performance of Aida. Angel Blue sang the lead. She was incredible, especially after replacing the white Russian soprano who was first casted in the role in Verona under much criticism.
. . . We're in sunny California. We just performed at The Hollywood Bowl and then after, everyone was planning to go to some after-party, but I said I thought I'd just go back to my hotel room. I ran into Tana and she said she was heading to a friend's, and that I should join her—and this friend turned out to be Gloria Gaynor. The two became friends when Tana asked her to use her song as a sample on her hit song "Still Standing." All I could think about was how much you would have loved to be there. Remember we used to listen to and sing her hit "I Will Survive '' together? Well, she sang the song with Tana and I, and it was simply amazing. We went out to dinner, and she shared some of her favorite memories as a singer. The entire night was simply surreal.
Hi, Grandma, I could really use your advice. Sam still won't respond to any of my calls or messages. I'm starting to think he might never reply, and soon, all this is going to be over. What advice would you give to me? I think it would be to forget him because I don't need him to have a successful career. But what if I'm just a just a here today gone tomorrow artist without him? I really need to finish my album. I need some of your wisdom now more than ever.
Cedes stuffed the letters back in the box, adding a heavy paperweight from her desk and forcing the lid shut. She put on a hat, tucked her hair inside it, found a pair of large, dark sunglasses, and left the apartment with the box tucked under her arm.
"Shelby Street Pedestrian Bridge," she instructed the driver when she was back inside the black town car. She held the box against her body, realizing as she clung to it that she might have a hard time letting it go. But you have to do this, she told herself. You have to let this go, so you can move on from your grief. You need closure.
The bridge was strung with holiday lights, shining bright gold, green, and red even in the afternoon. The bridge was fairly quiet. She walked to the middle and looked down at the water of the Cumberland River, then out at the buildings of Nashville on the left and the trees and paths of Shelby Park on the right. Someday soon, she would find the time to process all the things that had happened to her this past year: being on and winning America's Newest Star, her relationship with Sam, her Grandma Sadie's death, touring with Tana Lopez, reuniting and breaking up with Sam again . . .
But now was not the time to reminisce on everything. Now was the time to release her grief, anger, and blame for not knowing her grandmother was dying and to accept the fact that her grandmother had transitioned and was no longer living in pain. She looked around to make sure no one was watching and felt a pang of guilt about littering then dropped the box straight down into the fast-flowing river and watched it get carried away downstream. It sank, and was gone.
Okay. Now all she needed to do was stand here and have a good, long and well needed crying session. Let it all out. Her grandmother was dead. There was no changing it. When Grandma Sadie had come to visit Cedes as a surprise last Christmas, she had already been diagnosed with an incurable advanced interstitial lung disease. She had told Cedes she had pneumonia, and Cedes had pretended nothing was wrong. In some ways, Cedes could understand why her grandma tried to protect her from the truth. She knew she would have done anything, even given up her chance to win America's Newest Star, to be with Grandma in her last moments. But how could anyone, Grandma Sadie or her mother or anyone else, have believed that taking away that choice wasn't going to cause her a great deal of pain? No recording contract or television show was worth not being with her grandmother. She loved her so much. She would have risked everything to be with her during her final days. What happened to her had been terrible.
Cedes tried to experience all of the pain and finally let it all out but nothing happened. So, she kept thinking about the dark moments she had been avoiding. She remembered fleeing the America's Newest Star set when her mother finally realized it was getting to be too late. She had stayed in Ohio for the funeral and had felt completely numb the entire time. She could barely even look at her mother, so she shut her out even though she knew she was grieving, as well. And then Cedes had returned to Nashville after a few days but at that point, Sam was already gone and wouldn't take her calls. The only person she told about her grandmother's death was Lauren. She knew she couldn't deal with her feelings about it, and she definitely didn't want to have to experience it through the lens of the media. And then her professional life started to blow up overnight. The Tana Lopez tour, starting to record with Will. She had hoped she could keep herself busy enough to leave behind her pain. That hadn't worked.
She was finally allowing herself to feel, but she still couldn't cry. Instead, she stood on the bridge, looking down at the water and the path the box of letters had taken away from her now washed away by endless, flowing water. She felt frozen. Unable to release what she had come here to release.
Cedes looked up at the clouds that had gathered above her, heavy and thick. They were full of snow. As she looked up, a few fat, lazy flakes floated down, landing in her hair and on her shoulders. Impulsively she stuck her tongue out and caught a few plump snowflakes on her tongue. They lingered for seconds, icy, cool, reminding her of home in Lima, then melted away into nothing.
She had felt something for a moment, hadn't she? Some childhood memory, a shadow of the carefree, innocent person she had once been when it snowed in Lima and she had to taste the first snow even though her momma told her not to. Her grandmother insisted that she would be okay to let her grandbaby be herself. And at the moment, she felt more in touch with herself and her emotions than she had in a long time. But the moment was gone.
And suddenly, she had the creeping sensation that she was being watched, so she spun around, but no one was there.
Up ahead, the few people on the bridge were looking up in wonder, too; it was rare for there to be any snow at all in Nashville for Christmas but record lows were being reported for the week. By the time she got back to the car, the snowing had stopped. It was as if the little flurry of festive snowflakes had never happened. The sky was gray, and she felt gray, too.
All she wanted was to talk to her grandmother, to tell her everything about her terrible, no good day. She opened up her phone's contacts folder and scrolled through them, hovering over "Grandma" having never deleted it. She kept scrolling, thinking about what Lauren had said to her about the fact that she did have friends; that there were people here who cared about her. She thought about calling her mom, but she knew how upset Marilyn would get when she learned about the hurtful music industry gossip being directed her daughter's way. So, she clicked on Tana Lopez's name instead. She texted: Can we talk?
Tana replied right away. Absolutely. I'm at home. Come on over.
"Cedie baby, take a throw instead of standing over there shivering and have a seat." Tana was sitting outside by her heated pool, looking gorgeous and serene, surrounded by a beautiful view.
Cedes did as she was told, relieved that Tana had clearly heard the nasty rumors, and she didn't have to relive any of it by explaining everything that had happened to her.
"Cedes, I more than anyone, know how hard this is for you. I have been where you are, so many times that I have lost count. Some people insist pictures never lie, but pictures do lie. They almost always lack context, or are given context by the people who stand to earn the most money from them."
"It really wasn't what it looked like," Cedes said. "You know I only wanted a professional relationship with Will and that I definitely was not attracted to him."
"Will is many things, but being professional is not one of them. Everybody knows that he is a dick and to humor him but never be alone with him. Sam Evans, on the other hand—"
"I really don't want to talk about Sam," Cedes said, looking away.
"Really? I thought that Sam would be the one bright spot in all this. Surely, he knows that photo is absolute bullshit?"
"No, Tana." Cedes paused. "He believes that it is true and wouldn't listen to me. Believe me I tried to tell him but he ran away as usual."
"I don't know that side of Sam." Tana's expression was gently stern. "I have known him forever and he more than anyone should know Will and not to take the picture as any type of proof of your misdoings. I know that Sam guards his heart, but when you're around, how he feels about you is written all over his face: he has fallen head over heels for you. That's the plain truth, whether you or he wants to believe it or not."
Cedes tried to protest but Tana stopped her with another pointed look. "It's been obvious since the moment he laid eyes on you, which, by the way, I witnessed. He tried to shrug it off, but I'm inclined to say it was love at first sight, diva."
Cedes shook her head. "We won't ever be together, okay? Sam refuses to ever stick around long enough to deal with any of his emotions, and I'm not exactly successfully dealing with my own, either. My grandmother who he had met died, and I didn't even tell him!"
Tana put her hand to her heart. "What? Cedes, when did this happen? I'm so sorry, I know how much your abuela meant to you. Please say it didn't happen while we were on tour, and you were afraid to ask me for time off, because of course I would have given it to you."
Tana's eyes widened with empathy as Cedes explained that it had happened the night of the America's Newest Star finale, and she didn't tell anyone except Lauren about it. "But then, at Coachella, I made a mistake: I told Will after eating an edible that I did not know was an edible. I was high laughing one moment then crying the next, and he witnessed it, and I trusted him. And it totally ruined things between Sam and me because I told Will and never even told him. He found out from my mother recently."
"Oh, Cedes," Tana said, taking Cedes's hand. "I hope you know that even though we work together, I'm also your friend. You know that, right?" Tana continued. "That means I'm here for you. And I'm not going to let this industry chew you up and spit you out. I got you."
Cedes knew that Tana was a person she could trust. She had a friend, and a mentor—two roles she should never have looked to Will Schuester to fill.
"I'm such an idiot," Cedes said. But Tana shook her head.
"Okay, let's lay some ground rules of our friendship. There will be no negative self-talk; you and I both know the critics and the naysayers can take care of that for us. The second rule is we talk about hard things no matter what; no holds barred. Okay?"
Cedes nodded.
"Third rule: we speak the truth. And the truth is, I cannot let you throw away your relationship with Sam over something like this. Because that trouty mouth boy has it bad. And you do, too. Just look at you. You're not just grieving your grandma's death, I know that much."
Cedes sighed. "Tana. In accordance with rule number three, I have to tell you that my relationship with Sam has been nothing but a publicity stunt. Yes, we did start to develop real feelings, but every time we take two steps forward, he ends up taking five steps back."
"Cedes, if this were only a ruse, he wouldn't be so hurt and keep running away to guard his heart. He'd be sticking around because there wouldn't be any big-ass emotions for him to avoid. Can't you see this?"
"Maybe. But it's just too late for us," Cedes said.
"Fine, maybe this relationship of yours started out as a publicity stunt, which a lot of people on America's Newest Star did suspect, by the way. But it is not a stunt anymore. What's between you is real. You're not going to let Will Schuester get in the way of that."
Cedes pulled the throw tighter around her. It was getting late in the day now, and the sun was setting behind Tana's tall hedges. The massive yard was decorated for Christmas, with wreaths tied with big red bows on every surface that would hold one, evergreen garlands entwined through the many pergolas, and the lights inside the pool slowly and mesmerizingly fading from red to green.
"Yes, we could have had something special," Cedes reflected. "But believe me when I say it's over now."
"You're going to give up just like that? This isn't the determined, ambitious woman I spent time on the best tour ever with." Tana's expression was serious, her words affectionate but stern. A lot like the way Grandma Sadie used to talk to Cedes. Cedes now felt her eyes filling with the tears she had been hoping to shed earlier that day.
"It's okay, let it all out." Tana leaned forward and rubbed her back.
"You don't even know the half of it," Cedes said.
"So tell me all of it," Tana countered. "Everyone in this town can't be trusted, but you can trust me. And sharing the highs as well as the lows is what friends are for."
Cedes smiled through her tears as she finally accepted them, then started to bare her soul to her friend.
Sam
Nashville, Tennessee
December 21
After Sam walked out on Cedes, he'd sat in his truck in the studio's parking lot, trying to figure out what to do next.
He wrestled with what he knew he should do, which was be the professional he claimed he was and get to work versus what his heart was telling him to do. Cedes had cut him to the deep. He kept picturing her cuddled up to Will, knowing she had chosen him as her confidant, possibly more.
How did I misread her so badly? Sam from prior experiences had become astute when it came to judging a person's character—he had a lot of practice, thanks to hid dad's stardom. But Cedes had somehow fooled him, and he was both sad about it and royally pissed off that he'd so foolishly let his guard down.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the truck's headrest. "What would you tell me to do, Mom?"
Just then McConaughey let out a bark, and Sam opened his eyes. His dog was staring at him, his paws up on the console, panting excitedly with his tongue hanging out. He nodded and said, "Okay, boyl, that's what we'll do. But first we have to swing by the house. Let's get you buckled in." A moment later Sam pulled out of the studio's parking lot and headed to his dad's mansion.
The Noah's Ark Rescue animal shelter came into view, and Sam couldn't help but smile when he saw the sign at the entrance:
"It's all fun and games until someone ends up in a cone. Donate, Rescue, Volunteer Today!"
Mary Ellen Evans had been an active volunteer with Noah's Ark, because she was an animal lover, who had spent several hours every week walking dogs, feeding and cleaning the other animals, fundraising, and then working on the rescue's board of directors. She had enlisted Sam to volunteer, too, as soon as he turned thirteen. And this was the very place he had rescued McConaughey from five years ago.
McConaughey loved visiting The Noah's Ark Rescue Shelter. He squirmed in Sam's arms until he set him down on the floor. "Hang on there, boy," Sam said, breaking into a run to keep up with McConaughey.
"Well, I'll be darned if it isn't Sam Evans! We have missed you, young man." An older woman with silver hair sat at the reception desk.
"Sorry, Maggie. I know it's been a long while since I've visited," Sam said.
The woman came out from behind the desk and hugged Sam. Then she crouched and gave McConaughey a belly rub. "Okay if he goes out and plays in the playground?"
Sam nodded and looked over at the large room to the right of where they stood, and noted with both a heavy heart and a sense of pride the plaque above the archway to the playground:
Mary Ellen's Mutt Refuge
"Oh, before I forget. I brought a few things for the puppies who will be here over Christmas." Inside the bag he had picked up at home were two dozen hand-knit blankets for the little animals. He also handed her a check for a donation for any food or supplies the shelter needed.
Maggie placed a hand on his arm. "Your mom would be so proud of you."
Sam smiled, though it was forced. He thought back to how he'd behaved that morning, not to mention over the past year, and wasn't sure that was the truth any more. "Thanks for saying that, Maggie, and I hope you have a Merry Christmas." Then he watched as McConaughey ran in circles in the playground for a solid minute.
He had thought coming here would make him feel better, and to some degree it had. But he still carried a heavy weight in his chest.
Sam knew where he needed to go next.
Sam left McConaughey to play at the shelter for a few hours, and then made a quick stop at the nearby corner store before going to the cemetery. Someone had visited recently, because there were fresh flowers in a vase beside the headstone—Snowdrops, winter jasmine, camellias, and winter honeysuckle, Mary Ellen's favorite winter flowers, their blooms stunning against the gray and cloudy December sky. Even during Christmas, when it was difficult to get summertime blooms, his mom had filled the house with vases of winter flowers from her garden that she planted because they lasted all year long.
After placing his hand on top of his mother's headstone, he sat on the grass and pulled the bottle out from the paper bag.
"Hey, Mom—" He didn't know if he could continue, but he knew he had to.
"I know it has been a long time," he said. This was difficult. He opened the bottle and took a long swig. "Mom, the truth is that I still miss you so much."
The whiskey burned his throat and stomach. He took another sip of Tennessee Whiskey. Sam rarely drank hard liquor because he was scared that he'd become a drunk like Dwight, but he had needed a touch of liquid courage to come here today. He had some explaining to do to his mom.
So, between sips of whiskey he told her everything about America's Newest Star and Cedes. By the time he finished telling her what had been going on in his life for the past year, he'd finished most of the bottle. Drained from everything that had happened—and drunk as a proverbial skunk—he asked: "What should I do, momma? What do you think I should do about Cedes?"
He had wanted it to be simple. When he'd walked out of the studio that morning, he had every intention of not ever going back and never seeing Cedes again. But the longer he sat there, the less simple it all became. In a flash he realized the problem: he was irrevocably in love with Cedes Jones. He was desperately in love with her.
He. Had. Always. Loved. Her. And Always. Would.
And now he had to tell her.
Taking his phone out of his jeans pocket, he scrolled drunkenly through his contacts. "Bingo," Sam said, seeing her name. It went to voicemail.
"Cedes, hi. It's me, Sam E. Sam Evans." He hiccupped, and then cleared his throat. "Things this morning', well, I'm sorry for leaving like that. I'm a piece of shit, and I know it." Sam swayed, his elbow slipping off one knee, causing him to almost drop the phone. "I'm not sure what's going on with you and Will, but I need you to know something. I don't know how in the hell it happened, but I love you. Simple as that. I love you, Cedes Jones. I will always love you."
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then said, "Okay! Now you know. And that's all that matters. Okay, then. Bye."
Sam ended the voicemail and laid back on the grass and watched the clouds up above, glad he had finally told her how he felt. He was also feeling quite dizzy from the alcohol, and it occurred to him he was stranded at the cemetery, because there was no way he was going to be able to drive home. At that moment his phone rang, and he fumbled and twisted on the ground, trying to get it out of his pocket. For a moment he hoped it was Cedes returning his call, but squinting at the screen, the name fuzzy, he realized it was April.
"Hello short stuff," he said.
"Where the hell are you? I just got out of the meeting, and Cedes told me you took off. Of all the stunts, on all the days. You need to get your ass back here, Sam, pronto." April barely took a breath. "Will is madder than a wet hen or rooster! I made up some story about how you had a photo shoot for a chain store cologne."
Sam chuckled. "Cheap cologne huh?"
"I panicked! You know how he is just like a weasel and is suddenly right there in your face. Besides, I don't think he bought it. Seriously, what the tarnation is going on with you?"
"I just needed some air," Sam slurred. "Look, I know you're pissed at me but it's okay. I'll pay the money back to America's Newest Star. Everything will be alright. Cause I am going to be fine." He sat up, but rested his head on his bent knees as the world spun around him.
"It's the opposite of alright." April sighed heavily. "I can't keep bailing you out, Sam. Cedes can't keep bailing you out. Paying your portion of the money back might, and I'd like to emphasize might, because they could sue you get you off the hook, but it won't help Cedes."
He didn't know what to say to about that. How could he hurt the woman he loved with all of his heart and soul. He wanted to love Cedes body and soul. Apparently drunk Sam was female love song quoter.
"Where in the hell are you and why do you sound high as a kite?" April asked.
"I'm visiting my momma. Mama, don't you worry about me. Don't you worry about me," he sang into the phone.
"Oh, Sam." April had worked with the Evans family for long enough to have known Mary Ellen Evans well, to have seen Dwight spiral out of control to the point where his drinking almost ended his career, and to have watched Sam deal with all of it. "Be honest Sammy boy, have you been drinking?"
Sam glared at the bottle by his feet, and saw that only an inch or so remained at the bottom. He pressed his thumb and index finger close together, even though April couldn't see the gesture. "Maybe a little bit?"
"For the love of all that's holy, Sam, do not drive. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am, whatever you say April Rhodes, only way I'll be leaving is on that midnight train to Georgia," he replied.
"I'm sending someone to come and get you. Just stay there and don't speak to anyone. Better yet turn your phone off." All April could hear was Sam singing Whitney Houston's "Where Do Broken Hearts Go" as she ended the call.