"Wait, she invited you to eat dinner?" Mercedes squeals. This is just too good. "Or did she invite you to be eaten for dinner? Knowing her she's probably a cannibal."
"I know," Sam whispers through the phone, "I have no idea what to expect. I mean, I've met both of her parents individually, but I've never seen all three of them interact. It's freaking me out a little."
"I'm guessing family dinners don't happen often," Mercedes responds, "I went over there a couple of times to rehearse for River Deep. Saw the mom once or twice, but we never spoke. I met her dad at a Cheerios event. Maybe you should ask Brittany how these things go."
"I'd tell Brittany I'm nervous, but she'll tell Santana who will go out of her way to make me feel awkward."
"That's nothing new. Santana goes out of her way to make everybody awkward. I guess you could talk Puck. He'll probably tell you."
"Yeah, I think I will. You're the best, Mercedes."
"That's sweet. Hold for just a second- Kurt's on the other line. Mind if I take it?"
"Not at all, babe. I'll text you later."
"Date night soon?"
"Sure. Her dad's supposed to pay me tonight when I go over there."
"Hey Puck."
"Who's calling?"
"Sam."
"You're going to have to be more specific."
"Sam Evans."
"Not ringing any bells."
"From glee club?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry dude. I only keep chick numbers in my phone."
"Anyway so I was wondering if you could tell me about Santana's family."
"Her mom chased me out of the house once with a frying pan. Other than that we've never had any communication, which is a real shame since she's a total MILF. Her dad's also never spoken to me, but Santana said that I'm not allowed to clean their pool. Why are you asking me about her? Are you two dating again? Because I'm not sure if you noticed, it didn't turn out so good the first time."
"No, I'm just invited to this thing they're having."
"Good luck, bro."
He gets even less information when he calls Finn.
"Dunno," Finn says, "The only real time we hung out alone together outside of glee club I rented a motel room."
"Motel? Oh you must be talking to Sam. Hello Sam!" Rachel enunciates. Wherever Finn and Rachel are, she only heard the tail end of the conversation.
"Hey Rachel. What do you know about Santana's family?"
"I've never seen them at any glee club functions, if that's what you mean, and I distinctly remember her saying when she came to my house party that this would be the only time we would ever step foot on each other's 'turfs.' Then afterward whilst intoxicated, she told me that we could 'totally hang out and braid each other's hair and eat vegan carbs.' After Nationals, however, I am frightened to take her up on that offer."
"That helps, I guess."
"Finn has assured me that you and Santana are not dating again, so I wish you the best in your endeavor. Goodbye, Sam."
"But you helped her write Trouty Mouth, Tina. How can you not know anything?"
"I did meet her dad briefly. He told me to eat an apple a day."
"Not much to go on, but thanks."
"Ask Mike. He's right here."
"Hey Sam. I have not met her parents, but I can imagine they're just as frightening if not more so. They probably hate you since you're dating their daughter."
Sam hangs up.
"Sam, it's about time you called. You're a little late though, I'm taken," Kurt jokes.
"Right. I'm sure Mercedes told you why I'm calling."
"Yes she did. I wasn't aware that you two were close friends now."
"Uh… Yeah. Ever since that day we ran into each other in the parking lot," Sam lies.
"To answer your question, all I really know is that her parents are huge Cheerio supporters. They were the only platinum donors in the booster club last year- and trust me, that's a lot of cold, hard cash."
"Hey Sam. I didn't see you at church this morning. Let me guess, you want to know about Santana."
"Wow, Quinn. Word travels fast. And yeah, anything you can tell me that might help."
"Don't mention the situation. It's not exactly a secret anymore, even if she won't admit it."
"Wasn't gonna bring it up, trust me."
"Good. I met Santana shortly after we moved to Lima, just before high school. That summer I went over to her house and swam a lot. Her nanny would make us snacks and her dad was working most of the time. Her mom was sort of MIA. When Dr. Lopez was at home, he always seemed super nice. I did have dinner with them once and it was mostly Santana arguing with her mom about getting her bellybutton pierced. From what I've seen she gets along with her dad fine, she just misses him."
"Thanks so much, Quinn."
"I'll pray for you."
Yikes.
Lauren doesn't answer her phone which is fine by Sam. He doesn't bother calling Artie.
This isn't working. Brittany's not concentrating; instead she's doodling all over Sam's arm with a pen.
"Brittany, focus."
"Oh. Mostly they catch up on their day or days depending on how long it's been since the last family dinner. Adriana has this new job as a real estate agent so she talks about that occasionally. Roberto sometimes tells gross work stories 'cause we've always loved those. They ask Santana about school, but never about glee club. Santana and Adriana usually end up fighting and one of them typically storms off. Last time it was because Santana's gained weight since we quit the Cheerios."
Sam scoffs, "You can't even tell!"
"I know, right? Look, I drew a penis on your arm without even realizing. You might want to wash it off before we head over there."
There's no way she didn't realize. There's too much detail.
"Where is Santana anyway?"
"Don't tell anybody, but she went golfing with her dad since he has the day off. She's never played before, but everybody gives her a hard time about it so I hope she's okay. Don't repeat this either, but she'd do anything if it meant spending more time with him."
"She's afraid to lose him like she lost her grandparents, isn't she?"
Brittany grimaces, "Yeah."
Attempting to lighten the mood, Sam snags the pen away from Brittany and draws a pair of breasts on her arm. Sam smirks, "There. Now all we need is a vagina."
Brittany laughs, "I'll draw one on Santana later."
Sam's not sure how he gets roped into helping Mrs. Lopez in the kitchen while Brittany scampers off to find Santana. All he knows is that the woman's holding a frying pan and he's frightened.
"So what should we make tonight, Sam?"
"I'm not sure Mrs. Lopez."
She flashes him a look; the kind a lion gets before a kill, but before long she's plastered on a smile again, "Please, call me Adriana."
"Alright, Adriana," Sam blushes, "How about tacos?"
Sam can tell she's offended by the request, but her façade is impeccable. Now he knows where Santana gets it.
"You know what? I'm not much of a cook so how about we order some Chinese? Does that sound good to you?"
"Yeah, perfect."
"Great. Now run along and find Santana and Brittany. While you're at it, tell my lovely daughter to please turn the music down. It's giving me a migraine."
Sam trudges up the stairs, not at all excited to watch the two girls make sex eyes at each other from across the room. There's a steady stream of bass pumping throughout the house and it's a miracle Santana hasn't blown out her speakers. Sam knocks and when there's no answer, he knocks harder.
"Mother, I know the food isn't ready yet so leave us alone," Santana barks.
"She's ordering takeout," Sam replies. He tries the doorknob. It's locked.
"Go away, Fish."
"Your mom said to turn it down."
"The music ain't the only thing a-thumpin' in here right now so maybe in a little bit."
"She doesn't mean that, Sam," Brittany calls out, "We're just talking."
"Either way, come back later," Santana yells.
Sam huffs, but wanders down the hallway until Dr. Lopez spots him from his office and invites him in.
"Hey there, Sam. How are you doing?"
"Try not to act like you've seen his daughter naked," Sam thinks. Easier said than done.
"I'm great, sir. Can I just say that I really appreciate you letting me have this great job? Because it's great. Just great."
"Geez, how many times am I gonna say great?" Sam wonders.
Dr. Lopez looks slightly baffled by Sam's response, but proceeds, "Look, son. I don't mind doing it, but I have to know. Are you and Santana dating again?"
"No. Because your daughter's gay."
Damn his innermost thoughts. At least he doesn't say it out loud.
"No!" Sam replies a little too quickly, "No. I like someone else, actually. Her name's Mercedes Jones, but nobody really knows we're dating yet."
"Ah yes. I met Mercedes. She's a great girl," Dr. Lopez says with a smile.
"Oh God, he's mocking me. He can read minds. He knows everything. He knows I dye my hair, he knows Santana is a lesbian, and he knows Brittany's cat smoked the last cigar. He's gonna kill me. Chop me up and feed me to his family for dinner. Roast Sam. Sam with green eggs and ham. Sam I Am just a meal for the fam. Ah, he's waiting for me to say something."
"The greatest," he manages to choke out.
"Good for you. For a second there I thought you were going to say Brittany."
"I'm dead. So dead. He definitely knows and he wants me to confirm his suspicions. How do I lie? I forget. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Here it comes."
Sam's flabbergasted, "What… what do you mean, sir?"
"My daughter isn't too keen on sharing. She gets jealous easily, which I'm sure you noticed. When Brittany dated that wheelchair fellow, Santana got so frustrated one day she punch a hole in the wall. She missed her best friend so much that sometimes I'd hear her crying at night."
Sam can't help but be relieved when he hears Dr. Lopez admit this. He still thinks Brittany and Santana are strictly platonic. Why wouldn't he?
"Oh.," is all Sam can manage.
"Anyway, the reason I called you in here is to discuss the little mishap Friday night."
"Shit. Damn it. Fudge."
"Um..."
"Relax, you did everything right in my book. I just wanted to thank you for not drinking and driving and to give you your paycheck. When I spoke to my buddy on the force, he said that you had it under control and your passengers were in good hands."
Sam shakes the man's hand. He never thought about what it must mean to be a parent, but supposes he's glad he didn't drink either. Dr. Lopez's honesty strikes him the most. Unlike Adriana, his concern for his daughter is genuine. Sam is shaken from his thoughts when the doorbell rings. The doctor makes his way downstairs and Sam glances at his check only to do a double take. His hundred dollars a week is now three hundred.
An appreciative Sam heads to the dining room for this meal he's dreaded all day, but suddenly it doesn't seem like it will be so bad.