April 4, 2022 (Monday)
Sam never settled well when it came to flying. He didn't mind watching planes in movies or air shows, but experiencing it himself always made him nauseous. Thankfully Mercedes remembered Dramamine in her carry-on for him so by the time he woke up from the flight, their plane had touched down in Lexington. From there, it was only a short drive in their rental to the Evans' farm house.
One thing Sam would always miss, that Beverly Hills heavily lacked, were the tranquil, open fields that were plentiful in Tennessee, as well as Kentucky. In fact it was one of the factors that appealed to him and his parents when they bought the farm house: a spacious, grassy front yard, a green, two story country home with white trimming, wide pillars and a wrap-around porch; and a backyard large enough to accommodate a lemon grove and a barn for horses.
As the engaged couple rode along the long, dirt drive, they admired the font view of the familiar home as they always did when they visited. Sam let a content sigh pass through his lips that triggered a smile on his fiancée's face.
"I can't wait to see everyone," murmured a smiling Sam.
"I know," Mercedes agreed dryly. "We haven't been here since Thanksgiving which seems like forever ago."
Sam looked at her—his smile fading, "Are you okay? You haven't said much since we got off the plane."
"Yeah," she answered automatically. Her eyes seemed intent on staring out of the windshield, despite Sam's eyes probing her face. As if it would erase his expression, she reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "I'm just tired from the flight is all."
Sam didn't press her further. When they reached the estate, he parked the Mazda rental next to his dad's Ford and helped Mercedes unpack their week's worth of belongings. They were greeted by a frail but zealous Mary Evans, followed by her husband who relieved Mercedes of her zebra print bags.
"Stacey's out back, riding. She's been askin' when you guys were gonna get here," said Mr. Evans.
"Come on!" smiled Mrs. Evans as she seized Mercedes by the shoulders and ushered her from the foyer, through the family room, and out the sliding back door.
The Evans men looked after their girls for a moment and then took to the stairs to put the luggage away. While walking up the stairs to the guest room, Sam inhaled the familiar crisp country air—also lacking in LA. Sure, there were plenty of things he enjoyed about his life in California, but it was the trips back home that made him truly appreciate the rural life he'd grown up with.
His father, Dwight, pulled him out of his nostalgia when he asked, "So how's all the wedding stuff going?"
"Huh? Oh, it's going good." He nodded.
"Is she taking your last name?"
Sam's lips pulled up in a crooked smirk. "On the license, yes. And to the people closest to us she'll be Mrs. Evans. But when it comes to her career, she'll still be Mercedes Jones which is fine by me. She and Kurt have been on the phone with each other about the wedding almost every day."
Dwight chuckled, "Did Kurt have a heart attack when you guys said you wanted it in June?"
"Nah. I mean, he thinks we're all gonna melt in the heat but after we told him about Stevie's training and all that, he didn't have an issue with the date." Sam smiled lightly at the thought of his brother being home for a few weeks before he would have to report to the Key West Naval Base. But upon looking through the room's only window, down at the backyard, his thoughts shifted. "How's Mom doing?"
He half-expected his father's content expression to vanish, but to his surprise, his dad only smiled more. "She's actually doin' real good, Son. I know the past couple years have been rough for her more than any of us, but her recent appointments have been good, and she's been getting her energy back. Her doctor wants her to focus on getting her weight back on track now."
Sam stared thoughtfully at nothing in particular; it was the best news he'd received since Mercedes accepted his proposal! He didn't know what to say about it, but his dad clapped a hand to his shoulder and told him, "Keep your faith up, Son. I know I am."
"CEDE! You're here!" shrieked a wide-eyed Stacey. She clicked her tongue to command her horse toward the corral and then gracefully slid off the grey thoroughbred's bare back to shut him in. The teen then broke into a run, making a beeline for the curvaceous diva.
Mercedes smiled at the familiar sound of her nickname. Stacey had been calling her 'Cede' ever since they met. And although there was a time where she developed a jealousy of attention towards Mercedes, Stacey grew to love her like a big sister. She nearly robbed her parents of their hearing back in January when Sam told them he was going to propose.
Mrs. Evans stepped out of the way, seconds before her daughter collided with the singer. "My goodness, Stace—let her breathe!"
For such a slender girl, Stacey had a fierce grip. Mercedes giggled softly at her, but she was inclined to agree with her future mother-in-law. "How's it going, Stacey?"
"Great!" she chirped while letting go. "I have two competitions next week, so I was just practicing until you and Sammy got here."
"Oh it's too bad Sam and I didn't come next week—otherwise we could've watched you perform."
"It's alright," Stacey said as she pulled her blonde ponytail free. "I'll be sure to call you guys after!"
The three women walked the grassy yard while Stacy and Mercedes conversed about school and Stacey's riding competitions; by the time the subject of the wedding, Mercedes' involvement in the conversation lessened greatly. Stacey hadn't noticed—she was too excited and prattled on about her bridesmaid dress—but Mrs. Evans noticed. With a subtlety only a mother possessed, Mary pulled back the sleeve of her cardigan to glance at her watch and cut off her daughter mid-sentence. "Hey Stace I pulled out some ground beef for spaghetti earlier. Why don't you go get cleaned up and get some of the other ingredients ready for me?"
Stacey looked to her mom, "Okay, Mom," and then she winked at Mercedes before skipping off to the house, "We'll talk later! Plus I gotta go tackle Sammy."
Mercedes smiled and faintly nodded while Mrs. Evans shook her head at her daughter's seemingly endless energy. The dynamics within the Evans family was varying but it made them strong. Mr. Evans was a simple man and when it came to raising his family, he was like a quiet storm—profound in all he said and did without being unnecessarily loud. Sam was slanted more toward his father's personality, except when it came to anything related to sports or sci-fi. Stevie was the family's greatest introvert, and Stacey was the polar opposite. Mrs. Evans' love was absolutely infectious; she seemed to have an answer for everything, but always presented them with some level of compassion. She also seemed to have a sixth sense on noticing other's abnormal behaviors.
She and Mercedes were in the grove again—the crisp lemony aroma surrounding them as they walked. She removed her straw sun hat and combed her fingers through her short, delicate blonde and grey strands while using the hat to fan herself. "Has something happened with the wedding plans, sweetheart?" she asked. "I noticed you didn't seem too eager to discuss it when Stacey brought it up."
Mercedes shook her head. She hadn't met Mrs. Evan's concerned gaze until she felt the mother's feeble touch on her shoulder. The smile that joined Mrs. Evan's gaunt face made it impossible for the young star to lie about what was on her mind—not that she could; Mrs. Evans was too much like her own mother in many ways. Without much more thought, Mercedes whispered, "I'm late."
"Late?"
Mercedes sucked in her lip and stared meaningfully at her. Luckily it didn't take long for Sam's mom to understand.
"Oh—OH!" She quickly caught the rise in her voice and quieted, "By how much?"
"Going on two months now," Mercedes answered. "I…I really didn't notice I missed it last month, but now…I should have gotten it by now." She felt childish for dancing around words like "pregnant" and "period" yet she couldn't bring herself to say either.
Mrs. Evans wasn't fazed by it however. Calmly, she asked, "Have you told Sam yet?"
With a shake of her head, Mercedes said, "I've only told you and my mom. I haven't even taken a test yet."
"I see." It wasn't hard for the Evans matriarch to see her future daughter-in-law struggling to keep herself together. Mercedes was on the verge of tears, and I first time in a long time, she looked truly afraid. "Mercedes?"
The singer looked to her, frowning deeply, "I know I need to tell Sam. I just haven't figured out 'how' yet. I mean this isn't…we've talked about this before. We were going to get married first and then have kids."
"Sometimes…most of the time, what we want and what God's plan is are two different things. Sam understands that—look at what he'd been through when you two met."
There was hardly anything Mercedes could say to counter that. It could have been enough to absolve her fear, except for the final concern on her mind. "I just don't want to be the one to throw another curveball at him. He's been so happy the past couple months and I don't want to take that away from him."
"Mercedes you two have had your moments in the past where you've made the other one unhappy. But you've worked it out, and that's part of being in a relationship—it's work, sweetheart. And if you are pregnant, you're going to have to tell him, regardless of how he might take the news. But I know my son, and you know him too. He'll be here to support you, and anyone else who comes along." She offered another friendly smile and quoted, "'In sickness and in health', Mercedes."
They had stopped their slow stroll, hallway down the row of lemon trees. Rather than walking beside her, Mary Evans faced her future daughter-in-law and rested both hands on the young woman's shoulders. Her blue hues bore warmly into Mercedes' brown pair, "Go for a walk with him out here. Give yourselves the privacy and fresh air; it'll help you relax."
Upon returning to the house, Mrs. Evans couldn't seem to pry Stacey away from Sam so Mercedes volunteered to help her with dinner. She doubled her assistance as an opportunity to think about how to talk to Sam tonight, because his mother's points were gnawing away at her fears.
After their late dinner—hearty helpings of spaghetti and salad—Dwight roped his daughter into helping him with cleanup while his wife went to lie down. The time difference had both Sam and Mercedes feeling too awake to rest, so Mercedes suggested they go for a walk.
"Sure," replied Sam. He led the way out the sliding glass door and escorted her down the back porch steps with arm draped around his fiancée's shoulders.
Mercedes leaned into his side with one of her hands coming around his torso but she couldn't take her eyes off of the night sky. Neither Lima nor Beverly Hills allowed for this many stars to be seen. And aside from their own muffled footsteps, the only sounds to be heard were the occasional shuffling of horse hooves, the rustle of the light breeze, and the songs of the crickets. It was absolutely serene.
"You cold?" Sam asked before bending his head to kiss the top of her head.
Mercedes' eyes rolled shut upon the tender contact. "Mm-mm…" After one deep breath she mustered up some courage. "Sam, I need tell you something."
"What is it?" he asked with an untroubled tenor.
His naïve tone made Mercedes' stomach twist. She rested a hand over it while her lips formed words, but no sound came out.
Sam's feet started to drag. "What's wrong?"
"I…" She hardly recovered her voice and it didn't help that Sam move from supporting her side to standing face-to-face with her. "I don't know how to say it," she confessed as her heart started beating in each ear.
"Just tell me, Mercedes," he slowly insisted.
"I think I'm pregnant."
The words fumbled out of her mouth before she could think on them any further. Saying she might be pregnant sounded off to her—like it was someone else's admission. Sure knew she was going to have kids someday and she'd thought about what pregnancy was going to be like, but thinking on it and living it were clearly two different things.
Her eyes were fixed up at Sam; she watched him go rigid—watched his plump lips fall into an elongated "O" as his wide eyes impulsively went to the hand on her belly.
Mercedes used his moments of stillness to brace herself for whatever was going to come out of his mouth next. Mrs. Evans' words echoed in her head then. I know my son, and you know him too. He'll be here to support you, and anyone else who comes along. Still, she had seen and known of too many fleeting fathers who were good and loyal men once upon a time—her biological father being a case in point. And she knew it wasn't right to compare Sam to her selfish father.
"Please say something Sam," she whispered, mostly to pull herself out of her own head-splitting debate.
Staring away at nothing in particular, Sam picked up his jaw to ask, "Are you sure?"
Mercedes slowly shook her head, "No... I haven't taken a test or anything yet. But I think I am." Still shaking her head at her fiancé, she desperately breathed, "I need to know for sure. We need to know."
The blond returned his gaze to her. Fresh tears were pooling in her eyes; Mercedes rarely ever cried, but when she did it unfailingly pierced his heart. He bit down on his lip while raising his hand to tenderly cup her cheek. As Mercedes shut her eyes to the touch, Sam suggested, "There's a clinic not far from here. We can call in the morning and try to get you an appointment."
The chocolate-skinned woman nodded against his hand, "Okay." As her hands came around Sam's middle, she felt his slender fingers move from the side of her face to gingerly stroke the top of her head. She knew he was trying to sooth her—it usually did—but all she could do was voice the most pressing thought on her mind. "What are we going to do?"
Sam held her tightly, "What do you want to do?"
"If I am, I'm not going change what is." Some measure of strength returned to her voice as answered him. "I know we'd be great parents, and we can provide for a baby. I just didn't think it was going to happen right now."
"Well," Sam faintly smiled, "it's not going to happen right now." He looked down to gauge her reaction and after getting an eye roll from her he went on, "But you and I can do this. We're gonna be okay."
Sam was aware that he sounded cliché, the moment he uttered those words, but he'd meant all he said. His own anxiousness couldn't take precedence; in that moment, he knew he needed to be there for Mercedes.
Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors in this chapter. Please leave reviews! More is on the way very soon!