May 3, 2023 (Wednesday)
"You're so stubborn!"
"I have work to do before tonight, Mercedes," argued Sam.
"You need to rest, Sam," she argued back. Both of her arms were full, holding their alert three month-old children, while she stared down at her husband in bed. Sam had his face buried in a pillow, but looked inarguably unwell. He had a small pile of tissue wads on his nightstand; his eyes were red and watery, and he had a terrible croak in his throat. Mercedes was a mixture of concern and fury whenever he got sick; it didn't happen often but when it did, he was always reluctant to rest up so that he could get better sooner.
Sam turned his head towards her, cutting a weak glare at her, "I'll be fine. Just…I need to finish this demo before Jay starts hounding me over it."
Mercedes shook her head, "Jay and the music can wait, okay? You never take care of yourself when you get sick and it only takes you twice as long to get better when you do that. But Sam it's not just you that you need to think of now. What if Dante or Ariesa catch what you have?"
"They're not gonna—"
"You don't know that Sam. They're babies, so they're probably more vulnerable to these things than we are. In fact, lemme get them out of here before they catch your cold."
Sam groaned, "You're over-reacting."
From the hallway Mercedes retorted, "You're sick as a dog."
Sam had started to turn over onto his back but he ended up changing his mind and lying flat on his stomach again. "Worst, birthday ever," he mumbled bitterly into his pillow.
"Oookay munchkins, I see you yawning," Mercedes murmured with a smile. By now she had mastered laying Dante and Ariesa down in their cribs while holding them both at once. She pressed a tender kiss to the top of Dante's caramel-colored head and laid him on his stomach, and then did the same with Ariesa in her crib.
Both children babbled lightly but Mercedes stood between their cribs, humming Toni Braxton's "You Mean The World To Me" while their eyes fluttered shut. She continued to hum the song while pulling a thin blanket over their backs. After a short while of watching them slumber, she went to their dresser, wound up a small music box and let it play a twinkling version of "Claire de Lune". After checking the monitor, she popped back into hers and Sam's bedroom to find him snoring softly into his pillow. She cast a sympathetic smile to him, grabbed her phone and then left the room as quietly as she'd entered it.
While making her way to the kitchen, she found Jay's number and called him up.
"Mercedes! What up, Momma?"
"Hey Jay. Listen, I know Sam's supposed to be working on a demo with you."
"Yeah where's that lazy ass at? I been callin' him all morning!"
Mercedes rolled her eyes but kept her tone friendly, "He's in bed sick, Jay."
"…Oh."
"Yeah. Not exactly how he's wanting to spend his birthday b—"
"Wait, that's today? Shit!"
"Yeahh May 3rd's been his birthday for the past 29 years now."
She heard Jay sigh, "No I meant about tonight." After a brief pause, he asked, "Is he too sick for his party?"
"Um…" Mercedes was moving about the kitchen, gathering everything she'd need to make a cake, "He might be up for it later—I was gonna call and let everyone know it might have to get cancelled, but we'll see."
"Well take good care of him Ma. I'm sure you'll have him on his feet by tonight."
She chuckled softly, "We'll see. Talk to you later, Jay."
"Later 'Cedes!"
Throughout the time it took for her to call up their friends and give them a warning, she had the batter made and poured into a greased casserole dish. Once the cake was inside the oven she went to the sink to pull the batter-covered spoon from the bowl and lick it. As she turned her back to the sink, she gasped and nearly dropped the spoon. Sam stood in his boxers with bed head, rubbing his eyes. She couldn't help but smile at how boyish he would look, fresh out of bed.
"Aw, Babe your nap was short."
Following a yawn, Sam wandered into the kitchen, "Wasn't much of a nap—I was just hoping to make up for the sleep I didn't get last night. And I want some of that."
Mercedes saw him eyeing the spoon; after one more lick, she held it up to his mouth and watched his lips pinch around the top of the spoon and suck the batter off. She giggled at him, "You really should take something."
"I don't have a cold, Benz. It's allergies. You know how bad they get for me this time of year. And that, plus me not being used to not waking up in the middle of the night much anymore has me feeling drained."
With a pout, Mercedes cupped a hand to his cheek, "Maybe a Benadryl will help. You'll get some rest, no doubt, and it'll help your allergies."
Sam reached around her to swish a finger in the bowl; he dotted her nose with some batter and then stuck the rest in his mouth, smirking at Mercedes' shocked expression.
"You did not just put batter on my nose, Samuel Dwight Evans."
"Oooo snap, the full name," he mocked after kissing the batter off her nose. He then had the sense to back away from her slowly.
Mercedes turned away from him long enough to get some batter on her own finger. She approached him with a sadistic smirk, watching Sam's hands rise up in surrender.
"I'm the birthday boy, remember? And I'm unarmed!"
"You shoulda thought of that before dotting my nose." With that, she charged at him but rather than running, Sam seized her wrists and leaned away from her, laughing with her.
"Show me watch you got, Baby!" he taunted.
Accepting his challenge through her giggles, she managed to free one of her wrists and reached for his waist to pull him closer, but in Sam's attempts to evade her, she snagged his elastic waistline and yanked his boxers halfway down his ass.
"Whoa! Cake batter and birthday sex?" he teased, wiggling his brows.
Playing right along, Mercedes wittily replied, "Only if you think you're well enough for it."
With his cheeks growing slightly pink, he reminded her, "I'm not sick."
"But you're not well either. I don't want you to be all sloppy on me."
He smirked devilishly, "Is that a challenge, Benz?"
"It's whatever you take it as," she coyly answered with a shrug, finally deciding to smear her batter-riddled finger down the middle of his chiseled front. As she sucked the remaining remnants batter off her finger, she turned her back to him and wandered back to towards the sink.
And Sam was watching her every move like a hawk—watching her slide her finger out of her mouth; watching her hips sway in her rose-colored baby doll pajamas; her chest bounce with each step. He bit his lip and approached until he was standing directly behind her again. After gathering some more batter from the bowl with the tips of his fingers, his hand slid up her inner thigh, purposely catching the end of her pajamas on the way, so he could feel the skin underneath.
When Mercedes didn't resist, he told her in a low, husky voice, "I can think of something better than batter though."
Her breath hitched for a moment, "You're messy."
"Yeah but you kinda like it."
She smirked, "Whose birthday is it again?"
"Mine. All mine." As she reached down to pull his boxers all the way off, Sam glanced at the timer on the oven. "Twenty minutes," he muttered, looking down at his wife. His eyes quickly rolled shut however, as he felt Mercedes leave suckling kisses down his chest where the batter trail once had been but he gasped audibly when her lips kept going past his belly button.
The kitchen was a hot mess. The batter bowl—which looked practically clean again now—was turned over on the floor; the measuring cups and spoons Mercedes had used were scattered across the counter and Sam's boxers had somehow traveled to the opposite side of the room as Mercedes' dress. Flour and butter from greasing the pan had been smeared across the table, as well as their bodies. They lay, legs tangled in one another's on the tile floor. Mercedes hair was more of a disheveled mess than Sam's; both wore flour handprints on some part of their body.
"Damn" Sam breathed, catching his breath.
"Happy birthday."
He beamed a lazy grin, "Thank you, Baby."
"You were right."
"About what?" Sam asked, brows furrowing.
"You're not sick, at all."
His grin strengthened, "Told ya. And who knew making a cake could be so much fun?"
Mercedes giggled softly, "We took baking to a whole new level."
"At least we had the sense to leave the frosting alone. Otherwise that cake woulda been real dry."
As Mercedes opened her mouth to respond, the timer on the oven went off. Groaning, she reluctantly untangled her legs from Sam's, lifted her head from his chest and stood to check on the cake. Sam sat up to watch her for a moment, and then he surveyed the damage they'd done to the kitchen. "Uh…I'll help you clean this up."
"Don't worry about it," she replied sweetly. "It's your birthday after all. Besides you better get cleaned up. The twins could be up in any moment and I don't want us lovin' on them with butter and flour all over." As if to emphasize her point, she nodded towards him with her eyes on his shining torso.
Sam smirked crookedly, "Good point." He got up to grab his boxers, made his way over to take a first whiff of the baked cake and then planted a kiss on his wife's lips. "Don't take too long in here."
"I won't. I'll be right behind you."
"Good," Sam murmured back. He then wandered back out of the kitchen with a new spring in his step, compared to how he had entered it earlier.
After cleaning up—the kitchen and themselves—Mercedes and Sam spent the early part of the afternoon playing with Dante and Ariesa. Sam rocked them in their swings and made up a story to tell them while Mercedes returned to the cooled cake to frost it and slice some strawberries for a top garnish. As she went to put the cake in the fridge, she cursed under her breath and closed the fridge door. "Sam, I need to run to the store."
"How come?" he called from the living room.
"We don't have enough drinks for everyone."
"Just call Mike and Tina and ask them to pick something up before they get here."
Mercedes shook her head as she entered the room to grab her purse, "No, they're making the drive down here on a weekday; I can at least go get the drinks. Don't worry—I'll be back in a flash."She leaned over to her seated husband, pecked his lips and then blew a kiss to each of their kids before rushing for the door.
Mercedes opted on taking her BMW, and picked up a twelve pack of Corona, as well as a few 2-liters of soda. She knew it wasn't her real reason for going out, but rather, she had to pick up Sam's real birthday present. Weeks earlier, she had a few custom items made for him. The first were a pair of dog tags with Dante and Ariesa's faces etched into one side; the reverse side held their full names and birthdates. The second item was a sleek black Fender Starcaster. Mercedes got in touch with a graphic artist who drew a collage of DC and Marvel comic book characters around the entirety of the body. She picked it up second and then headed to her car—momentarily held up by the paparazzi.
"Mercedes! How are the kids?"
"We haven't seen you out much. Everything alright?"
"Are you enjoying being a first time mother?"
"How long are you taking a break from music?"
"What's with the guitar case?"
"Where's the rest of your family?"
She shook her head, smirking at the ridiculous inquiries they all had. "Y'all are something else. It's my husband's birthday," was all she told them before getting into her BMW. Through the glass she heard a few of them blurt out birthday wishes for Sam and a couple had even begun singing 'Happy Birthday' for him. She chuckled, started up her car and headed back home.
By the time the evening rolled around, Mercedes had changed clothes for a second time—Ariesa had spit up on her initial outfit for the day. She and Sam got both children to sleep for the time being, but shortly after, Mike and Tina arrived with Little Mikey and a sleeping year-old Sawyer. Mike had a few days away from his studio again to rehearse in LA for Rihanna's newest music video while Tina would be meeting up with a few fellow designers for autumn trends. Tina went to lie Sawyer down straight away, in the nursery, while Mike and Little Mikey wished Sam a happy birthday.
"Artie wanted me to give this to you. He said he's sorry he couldn't get the time off work to come down with us."
Sam smirked, taking the small gift bag; something told him it was some sort of Apple product that he was gonna enjoy playing with later.
"I made this for you, Uncle Sammy!" Mikey proudly said, jutting a folded paper up to the tall blond.
Sam smirked, "You did? Ah I bet it's gonna be the best card I ever got." Sam began to unfold it but Mikey's face contorted into a deep scowl.
"How'd you know it's a card!"
Thinking fast, Sam nodded seriously, "It's part of my Jedi powers. Yoda taught me."
Mikey nodded slowly, "Ohhh!"
Sam smirked and finally unfolded it. Mikey had drawn a picture of all of them: himself, Sam, Mike, Tina, Sawyer, Mercedes, Dante and Ariesa. They were all standing on some grass and up in the clouds said, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNCLE SAMMY!" in large crayon writing.
"I knew it! It is the best card I ever got. Thanks Mach 3!" Sam said cheerfully. He crouched to the boy's level and gave him a huge hug.
Soon after, Jay, along with a couple of their mutual friends arrived. As Sam got ready to close the door behind them, Mercedes' manager showed up.
"Hey Trish," Sam said, stepping aside to invite her in.
"Hi Sam. Happy birthday by the way." She handed him a pale blue envelope with his name in the center while asking, "Is Mercedes around? Sorry, but I can't stay too long."
"Oh. That's okay. Yeah, she's in the nursery with Tina."
"Nope, I'm right here," Mercedes said, emerging from the hallway with Ariesa in her arms. She caught Sam's confused expression and explained, "She woke up after Tina and I set up a place for Sawyer to nap."
"Mercedes!" her manager, Trisha spoke up with an urgent tone. "I need to talk to you—it's really important."
Mercedes' brows furrowed, "Okay? What's up?"
"Well I have good news and bad news."
"Start with the bad, T. You know how I am."
"Yes, yes—end on a good note. Alright, the bad news is that I'm not going to be able to manage you for a few weeks."
"What? But…"
"I know, I know, you were getting ready to get back in the studio. But it's a long story and I'm sorry but a lot of things have come up and I need to sort them out. But remember, I said that there was good news too."
Unable to see what it could possibly be, Mercedes flatly answered, "I have someone to take my place during my…hiatus, if you will. And I assure you, she is a diamond in the management rough. She's kinda new to music management but she's great and I have a feeling you two will click while I'm away."
Shaking her head, "I still don't get what this is all about but…I trust you, T. What's her name?"
Smiling confidently, Trisha said, "I set up a lunch meeting for you two on Friday. Her name is Lauren Zizes."
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