9. You Don't Know You're Beautiful
Whitney left the beauty salon, fully made up and drove to the family house. She didn't look at all like a fifty year old woman, and she knew it. But, none of her siblings really looked their age, except for maybe Dorian. Jones aged well, and though she had been married and widowed, remarried and divorced (causing a huge scandal in the gospel community with famous evangelist ex husband), Whitney had inherited all manner of diva from her mother and not much stress tarnished her appearance. She came down the path the led to the house, and stopped her car right in the front of the steps leading to the front door. When she got out of the car, she took off her sunshades before ringing the doorbell. Sammie opened it and hugged her in greeting, "Hey, Aunt Whitney."
"Hey, Precious. God bless you," Whitney greeted as she entered the place. "Where is your grandfather?" She asked.
"Resting in his room. The last couple of weeks, he's done a bit much, I'm afraid," Sammie answered as she reached for her purse. "Normally, I wouldn't think of leaving him on the weekend, but Adam has a family life conference to attend and we have to be there with him…"
"I understand. Samara, Suga – you have to try to remember that you have a life and a family outside of Daddy, and we haven't forgotten that. Enjoy your trip. Where are you headed?"
Sammie smiled brightly and said, "Ohio. This conference is at Pastor Hart's church." She gave her aunt another hug and went on her way. Whitney sighed and set her purse down. She had not had the chance to really be around the house much. She owned a home in Tennessee, but travelled a lot, still. Her first order of business was to look in on her father to see if he was alright. He was sound asleep and she decided to go into the room and watch him for a while and some part of her knew that he was probably dreaming about her mother.
Mercedes was curled up in a ball, wearing her bathrobe and holding a glass of wine. She was not much for private drinking, so Sam stared at her for a moment before he approached her. Whatever was wrong with her, he just hoped that it wasn't his fault. "Hey!" He cheered, when he entered the room. She looked at him and forced a smile. So, it wasn't his fault. If so, she would have simply tore into him. "You alright, Babe?" Of course, she wasn't, but he wanted her to tell him.
"Have you been on your website since the Grammies?" She asked.
"Not really." He sat next to her on the couch and looked over her shoulder to see what was getting her down. "Been working on that movie. Hopefully soon, we get to wrap everything up."
"Its pages and pages of these comments," she said and handed her laptop to him. Then, she got up and headed for the bedroom.
Sam read: Why are Sam and Mercedes still going forward with their sham of a relationship? Everyone knows that it's just a publicity stunt. Why the hell would he want someone like that?
Maybe she got pregnant and he felt obligated. He is a Southern gentleman, so he probably has a belief system like that.
Yeah, but why would he even touch her in the first place? I call shenaningans. Have you ever seen old photos of Sam's old high school girlfriend? Or even the women at the club he worked at? Plus, rumor has it that he's the number one crush of the leading lady in the movie he's currently working on as a producer. She's an A+ to Mercedes Jones' F - .With options like that, would he really choose this? (Posts a big photo of Mercedes sweating on stage. Lol…
He slammed the damned thing shut and set it down, then went to find her. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Presently, he said, "I'm sure it's just a bunch of ignorant kids. They're rude and I'll be addressing every single post there, personally." He sat near her feet and she pulled them to herself, but he reached out and grabbed them and brought them to his lap to massage them.
"They're not saying anything any differently from the adult critics. There was a column about why I should not have won ONE SINGLE GRAMMY and the whole basis of the thing was that I am a bad influence for young girls because I'm fat and I'm showing them that it's alright to be this way." She reached for her wine and said, "Like it isn't."
"Who the hell wrote that?" He asked, turning a shade of red.
"That's not really the point, Sam. Have you seen the video of you while you were working at Vanity 9? They're pretty hot. I know that when you perform, you're just performing, but when they have video of some catty cage girl dancing around you and you sexy strumming your guitar…" She sat up and pulled her feet to herself, again. "It was one thing when a couple of jealous girls here and there were harping on why I don't deserve to be with someone who looks like you, but when people all over the world start in on me, for the way I look…"
"You're absolutely beautiful."
"In your eyes. But, I'm in the public eye, now. I'll have to face everyone's opinions for the rest of my career. They…" she shook her head, "They focus on all the negative. There were some people who jumped to my defense and listed why they love me. I was shocked to see that hate on your page. I thought that your fans liked me."
"My fans love you. These people are clearly trolls. They don't belong in my world and they're gonna get a piece of my mind. You'd best believe it. Come here." He patted his lap and waited for her to crawl to him so that he could pull her onto his lap and squeeze her. He rubbed her back and held her close and began to sing to her, "Baby you're my everything. You're all I ever wanted. We can do it real big, bigger than we've ever done it…"
She started laughing and sat up to look at him with his crooked smile. "You are the effing best, Sam."
"On a serious note, Mercedes… you aren't just beautiful in my eyes. You are three time Grammy winner Miss Mercedes Jones. You earned that title. You've earned your praise. Remember when you said 'Ready when you are'? I'm ready. Let's just go do it. Let's go get married, already."
"Like how soon?" She asked.
"Like, let's get up and go. We can elope. That seems easier than the whole planning thing. Between you, Tina, Kurt, Unique and Quinn – planning is driving me crazy, anyway. Remember when we were carefree enough to throw together a prom date on a budget a week before the time? Let's just go to Vegas. We could leave tonight." He said, brightly. He got up and said, "Puck and Unique could be witnesses, as they're already out here."
"Sam!" Mercedes said and stared at him. He looked at her, as well. "I never said yes to this. We can't just run off and get married. I have to have a wedding, a fancy, diva/princess dress, all of friends and family there…" She stared at his heartbroken face and said, "We've waited all this time, why rush now?"
"You answered your own question. I have been waiting on you to marry me now for five years, and we've been engaged now for two years. You won your Grammies weeks ago. I don't understand why you didn't have everything set in order to get married the next day, as long as you've had to plan everything."
Mercedes sighed and laid down again, pulling her legs close to her, "Sam, I just won the Grammies TWO weeks ago, and so far – Finn isn't cleared for a leave any time soon."
"He's not in the wedding, and it wouldn't be the first thing that he's missed since being in the army," Sam retorted, but she kept going.
"Rachel is on Broadway…"
"And probably wouldn't want to come without Finn, anyway," he said.
"Quinn has no more free time until the semester is over…" He just groaned and she said, "But, by the end of May, I promise. I promise we'll do it by the end of May." She said and reached for his hands. "I am not trying to get out of this, Sam. I just want it to be perfect. You made my junior and senior proms perfect, and after everything, I want my fairytale wedding, okay?" He nodded and rested his head against her belly.
"I just want you to be my wife. I don't care about the details, as long as at the end of the day, you are Mrs. Sam Evans," he said.
"Oh…" she started. He quickly sat up and looked at her. "Uh… I don't know about being Mrs. Evans, Sam. I'm just now becoming the Miss Jones that I've always seen for myself."
"You don't want to take my name?" He asked, surprised and a little bit hurt.
"Not so soon," she said. "I want to be Mercedes Jones, superstar, and YES, wife of Sam Evans… but you know that you and I have always had our own separate identities. That's one of our best qualities." He still looked a little sad, but he nodded and laid back down on his love pillow. "And after about ten years, we'll renew vows and I'll change my name, and if I release any albums after that, I'll just be Mercedes. By that time, they ought to just know who Mercedes is," she mused. He kissed her on the belly and squeezed her tightly.
Whitney was reading a magazine when Sam awoke. She set it on the nightstand, next to her mother's photograph and she cheered, "Hey, Daddy! You sure stayed sleep for a long time. I was beginning to worry. I want to take you shopping today. You know it's Friday, so Mamma's with Kelsey. You need to get spruced up, too."
Sam's eyes were wide and his heart was racing, "I didn't expect to see you here," he said.
"I know. I don't come to visit like I should. But, I am in town for a good little while and Sammie had to go out of town to a conference at Pastor Joe's church. So, I'm here for the weekend. Need me to get your scooter?" Whitney asked. Sam winced. Why the hell did she talk so loud? Nothing was wrong with his damned hearing! "I'll get it for you, then we can go have some brunch. You slept through breakfast…"
"Whitney… My hearing is just fine," he said and struggled to get up. When he sat up, he said, "And I don't like people in here when I wake up. I don't like to start out with pointless talks or loud noises. I get up and do my thing, and when I'm ready to face everyone else, I leave this room," he told her.
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Daddy." She got up and made her way out of his room. She heard some shuffling, then she heard the scooter.
Whitney and Sam were never as close as either of them would have liked. They loved each other, dearly and deeply – but there was something that always kept them at arm's length with each other – and it occurred sometime during her adolescence, though he couldn't place his finger on what it was. Over the years, Whitney tried to make amends for being so angry with him as a child, but it was like they simply continued to butt heads. When he came out of the bedroom, he said, "I don't want to go shopping if I have to ride that thing all over the store. I can walk."
"Don't be stubborn, Daddy. You'll hurt yourself," she said, not meaning for it to sound so condescending, but he took a seat on the couch and she knew that he had decided that he would not be going anywhere.
"Wanna watch the wedding?" He asked.
"What wedding?" She wondered as she took her seat, next to him.
"Me and your idol," he said. "I was gonna watch it last night, and got too tired." He reached for the remote control and Whitney smiled and kicked off her shoes. Maybe they might go shopping tomorrow.
"You want to order some brunch for delivery, before I start it?" He asked.
"That's a good idea. Where should I order from?" She asked.
"I thought you had some place in mind when you suggested brunch. You could order from the diner up the road," he said.
"Give me a moment. Do NOT begin it without me," she said and scrambled to find her purse, so that she could retrieve her phone.
Sam smirked at Mercedes, from the other side of the camera, trying to fight off a laugh. She glared at him. She didn't think it was funny. She didn't find this funny at all. "So…" he said, "Why don't you tell our son or daughter how you were about to try to postpone our wedding that you promised me at the end of May when you found out that he or she is going to come in nine months, whether you become my wife, or not?" She frowned and turned all the way around.
He turned the camera on himself and said, "I've got her now! She's mine!" And he laughed, maniacally. Mercedes tried not to laugh. She was angry with herself. Sam stopped buying condoms the day that they got engaged, and she got on birth control. The shot was easiest for her, because it lasted for several months… somewhere the hell along the way, she missed that damned shot, and now – even though she wanted to try to hold off the wedding until she could wrap up this sophomore album… she did NOT want to be having babies out of wedlock.
She'd been sick a few days and unable to properly sing, so she went to the doctor. Sam brought his damned camera, and kept saying, "I'm pretty sure you're preggers, Mercy." He wanted to catch the diagnosis on film, and broke out into a roar of laughter when the doctor confirmed his theory. Mercedes stared at the camera, dumfounded. The doctor also reminded her that she had been alerted about coming in to take her shot, and she cancelled the appointment, because she would be out of town… and never rescheduled. Winning Grammies and working on another album ate most of her concentration.
So, by the time they got married, she was about two and a half months pregnant with Marvel. That night, Sam laid his head on her belly, again and said, "Hey, Marvel. It's your Dad."
"Marvel?" She asked, staring at him.
"Yes. It's awesome. It's unisex. It's what both of us are gonna do when we meet him or her…" He rubbed a circle on her womb and said thoughtfully, "And I don't want to say 'it' or keep repeating he/she, him/her." She still stared at him. "And it starts with an 'M,' like Mercedes," he added and poked her in the belly button. "Do you like it?"
She chuckled and said, "I actually do… but you just want to name our baby after your favorite comic book publisher."
"I do, but I gave you reasons that should sit well with you! Marvel – doesn't that sound like the kid of a diva? Of an icon?"
"Marvel Evans," she said, then shrugged her shoulders, "We'll have the same initials." Sam froze and looked up at her. "Come hug my neck, Sam. My hormones are a mess!" He rushed to hold her and she cried, "No wonder I was so bothered by those bitches on your site. Oh my God! Sam, I've drank wine with this child!"
"It's ok. Marvel's fine. The doctor said so, and you have plenty of time to make sure Marvel's healthy." He squeezed her and kissed the side of her head.
"You are running with that name, aren't you?" She asked.
"Yup, and you're gonna run with me. You'll walk with me. Whatever it takes. Mercedes, this is a sign from God that we're meant to be together. You were going to push our wedding back, and suddenly realize that you're pregnant? Not that pregnancy means destiny. I mean, with Puck and Quinn, it meant disaster. But this time, I know it's a cosign from God that you need to marry me as soon as possible." She laughed and sighed as she intertwined her fingers with his. "So, by the end of May, I expect to see another ring on this beautiful little hand that I love holding so much."