DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.


April 16, 2011 (Saturday)

The Motel Six

Lima, Ohio

8:34AM

Jeffrey woke to a gentle knocking at his motel room door. He blinked up at the ceiling trying to clear the fogginess from his vision and mentally get his bearings. He tried to remember if he was expecting anyone to come over today, but nothing came to mind.

He heard the knock again and he began to sit up, until he felt Sam's dead weight across his chest. Pausing, he shook his head to wake himself up, before he carefully slid Sam's upper body off of him. Jeff heard the knock once more and he quickly but silently slithered off the bed. A smile crossed his face at the sight of his three slumbering children.

Someone knocked again and he hurried to the door—scrubbing a hand across his face and running a hand through his hair to try and get rid of the knots that had formed in his sleep. He grimaced at the fact that he had to open the door with his morning breath, but he did so anyway.

When Jeff opened the door he blinked at the sight of a teenage girl standing there, her hand raised to knock again. She stared at him and Jeff looked back at the chocolate skinned girl in surprise.

"Hi," she said cheerfully and Jeff gave her a small smile.

"Hello," he replied and his voice seemed to help her regain confidence.

"I'm Mercedes Jones," she stated with a bright smile spread across her features. She extended a hand to him and Jeff shook it politely. So this was the girl who had recently befriended his son.

She was cute. Straight hair and bangs; an outfit of purple jeans and a striped black and gray shirt with a huge purple flower clipped to the left side of her hair. He was surprised that she'd been able to find their room—he hadn't expected Sam to tell anyone their address.

"Jeffrey Evans," he responded and the girl's hazel eyes lit up with excitement.

"I'm a friend of Sam's," she said, "Is he home?"

Jeff nodded. "Yes, he is, but he's asleep right now. Is there any way you could come back later?"

Mercedes looked slightly disappointed, but she answered, "Of course I can, but I-uh brought you all breakfast."

Jeff finally took notice of the large picnic basket by her feet and he looked up at her, startled. "We don't need any charity—"

"Mr. Evans," Mercedes interrupted, "Excuse my disrespect, sir, but there is a difference between charity and a gift."

"What?" Jeff asked, taken aback.

"Charity implies that I pity you, which I absolutely do not. This is a gift—from me to a friend. Gifts are born of kindness and charity comes out of duty. I came here of my own volition. If someone forced me to do so, I wouldn't be standing here with a smile on my face." Mercedes stated and Jeff felt shock and an undercurrent of shame flow over him.

He knew she was right. "I'm sorry, Miss Jones."

"Call me Mercedes, please?" the teenager asked, "I feel old if someone calls me Miss Jones—I want to look over my shoulder every time someone says it."

Jeff had to smile at her. She was certainly different from what he'd been expecting. Then again, hadn't Sam said as much last night? "Okay, Mercedes, would you like to come inside?"

She beamed at him and hefted the basket into her arms. Jeff held the door open for her as she walked past the threshold. He would deny it if asked, but he blushed faintly once he noticed her taking in the state of their 'home'. It was quite the mess.


She would never admit it, but seeing the small space that the Evans were forced to live in—made her stomach churn unpleasantly. Such nice people didn't deserve to go through things like this. But she forced her sadness away and focused on helping them—she didn't pity people as a rule.

Mercedes looked around and had to swallow a giggle when she noticed the kids sprawled across the bed. There was a little boy and girl that laid on the left hand side of the bed—their chests moving with each breath. And then there was Sam. Mercedes had never seen anything so undeniably adorable in her life.

The blond was curled on his side—his arm thrown over a pillow that he was cuddling to his face. The fact that Sam was a cuddle-monster did not surprise her for some reason—he seemed the type to respond well to innocent physical affection.

He was breathing deeply and his hair was a mess of blond hair that fell all over his pillow and face. She smiled at the sight, before she headed towards the kitchen table and sat down the rather heavy basket.

Mr. Evans walked over to her as she opened the lid of the wicker basket. Instantly, the aroma of scrambled eggs, chocolate chip- blueberry waffles, and fruit filled the room. Mr. Evans sniffed the air and blinked at her in surprise.

Mercedes laughed at the awed look on his face. "Wow that smells incredible." He said as he sped into the kitchenette and peered into the basket from the other side of the table.

"Thanks, Mr. Evans," Mercedes replied to the compliment and Mr. Evans waved at her dismissively.

"It's Jeff—especially if you plan on gifting us with food that smells like heaven in a tuber ware container," he joked, "That's asking for an invitation to join the family, young lady."

"Did I pass?" Mercedes teased the now jubilant man and he chuckled.

"Yep," he said with a huge inhale, "You passed with flying colors." Mercedes and Jeff shared a grin.

"Well, can you show me where the utensils and plates are?" she asked, "And you could wake the others?"

"Sure thing," Jeff replied as he hurried past the table and into the small kitchenette. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a set of plastic blue dishes. Mercedes took them with a smile and nodded towards the others still passed out on the bed.

Mercedes watched out of the corner of her eye as Jeff gently woke the little boy and girl on the bed. The small girl sat up—her blond hair sticking up all over her head and her bright blue eyes looked bleary. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands as Mercedes set the table for breakfast.

The diva was aware when the kids noticed her presence, because they both froze. "Daddy, who's she?" The little girl's voice was the sweetest thing Mercedes had ever heard. She felt her heart melt.

"She's a friend of Sam's from school," Mercedes heard Jeff reply as he started shaking Sam's shoulder. "Why don't you be polite and go say hello?"

There was some intense ruffling from the bed area and then the soft padding of feet was coming towards her. The little girl stopped right beside her and peered into the basket—just like her father did. The only difference was the fact that she had to stand on her tiptoes to actually see. Mercedes held back a laugh when she saw the girl's eyes widen at the sight of the food.

When the child sniffed deeply, she couldn't contain the giggles. Stacey looked from her to the basket—her cheeks pink, before she stepped back and faced Mercedes.

"Hi!" the little girl stated with a smile, "I'm Stacey."

Mercedes had to admire the kid's confidence. She didn't appear to have any insecurity about standing before a stranger in her pajamas with a serious case of bed head. That was something Mercedes had trouble with even on her best days.

"Hello," she replied to the small child, "It's nice to meet you, Stacey. My name's—"She was cut off by the sound of Sam's sleepy and confused voice.

"Mercedes?" he asked from his spot next to the bed.


The last thing Sam had been expecting was to wake up to the sound of his sister saying, "Daddy, who's she?" And he definitely hadn't been expecting to smell the most wonderful scents in the world—breakfast food.

But, he was completely caught off guard to have stood out of bed after being shaken awake by his father and seeing Mercedes Jones in his kitchenette.

His brain couldn't even begin to compute what he was looking at. Mercedes was setting food on his rickety kitchen table and talking with his little sister. Mercedes Jones was in his family's motel room.

"Mercedes?" he called out—his voice reflecting his current state of bewilderment. She looked up at him and smiled prettily. Sam just gaped at her, before he realized that Mercedes Jones was in his kitchenette—staring at him when he'd just gotten out of bed.

His nose wrinkled just imagining how he must look and he quickly ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He winced when he'd pulled at a particularly vicious knot, but he smiled back at her nervously. Sam was honestly surprised when she started laughing.

"What?" he questioned and she looked at him in amusement.

"You looked like a gerbil that had suddenly lost his running wheel—like you'd never seen the wood shavings on the bottom of your cage before," she responded and he pouted at her.

"I did not," he replied, "I just wasn't uh-expecting you to see me in bed so early in this friendship."

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. "Is our relationship moving too quickly for you, muffin?" Her tone was teasing, but Sam still blushed. He stuck his tongue out at her and Mercedes laughed.

"Boy, please," she told him with a wave, before turning her attention back to his little sister. "I'm Mercedes," she said and held out a hand for the small girl to shake. Stacey took it and shook her hand as firmly as possible.

Sam didn't miss the flare of amusement on Mercedes' face.

"Did you make us breakfast?" Stacey asked and Sam's brain finally put the pieces together. Mercedes had come to his family's motel room and brought them breakfast. And man, it smelled delicious.

It was only when he was inhaling that he realized he had morning breath. His face flared red and he slapped a hand over his mouth—as though Mercedes could smell his breath from all the way over here. It was too late to do anything about the moronic action, because four sets of eyes had flew in his direction when they heard the loud slap.

Mercedes was giving him a strange look, but his father's lips were twitching. Sam shot him a glare, before he said, "Be right back." And hightailed it into the bathroom—grabbing a fresh set of clothes on the way.


Mercedes snickered when the bathroom door shut behind Sam. Stacey giggled with her.

"Sammy's silly," she whispered to the taller girl and Mercedes nodded.

"I'm learning that," the diva replied. "And to answer your question, I did make you breakfast."

Stacey's head was cocked to the side, but it was the little boy who actually spoke up, "Why?"

He blinked at her from his dad's side and Mercedes smiled at him. "Because Sam is my friend and I wanted to do something nice to cheer him up. That's what friends do."

Mr. Evans gave her a sheepish smile and said to his son, "Why don't you introduce yourself, buddy?"

The little boy looked up at his father for a moment before nodding. "I'm Stevie," he told her.

"We're twins!" Stacey threw in—her excitement growing. "And I love your hair clip! Where'd you get it?"

"Oh," Mercedes spoke, "I actually made this one. Crafting accessories is kind of my thing."

Stacey's blue eyes sparkled with interest and Mercedes could barely contain her grin. She only had one little sister, Annabelle who was six, and she didn't have the patience for sitting through a craft making session—she just wanted the stuff when everything was completed.

"Really?" the girl asked, "I tried making a headband with macaroni noodles once, but they all fell off." Stacey's expression dropped at this admission.

"Well at least you tried," Mercedes began, "If I come over again, I'll be sure to bring some of my craft supplies and I'll teach you how to make a headband."

Stacey's glorious smile was enough to make Mercedes grin obnoxiously for a week. "Oh, I would love that!" And before Mercedes could even do anything, Stacey had sprinted to the bathroom door and opened it.

The sound of Sam's indignant squeal from the shower made her and Mr. Evans howl with laughter.

"I love your friend Sammy!" Stacey yelled into the small bathroom.

"Stacey!" Sam yelped, "Close the door!"

"Okay Sammy!" she replied, before she closed it. Mr. Evans was laughing so hard he was crying and Mercedes couldn't control her snorts, which made Stevie start giggling like crazy. Stacey joined in after she heard a loud thunk from the bathroom.

Once their laughter was mostly under control, Mr. Evans helped Stevie pick out some clothes to wear whenever Sam was finished in the shower. Stacey went to Mercedes. "Will you help me choose an outfit?" she asked shyly.

Mercedes blinked in surprise, and she looked at Jeff who shrugged at her. Slowly, she agreed and was dragged over to the bed. Stacey dropped to her hands and knees and wiggled her way under the bed, before she came sliding back out with a small suitcase handle in her grasp.

She grunted with the effort and Mercedes quickly lifted it for her. She got a smile of thanks from the kid as she placed it on the bed. Stacey unzipped the suitcase and Mercedes looked inside. There were plenty of cute options for the girl to wear.

"Did you have a color in mind?" Mercedes asked.

"Uh—red." Stacey replied and the teenager nodded before she began rifling through Stacey's clothes. Before long, Mercedes had picked out a striped dress with hello kitty faces in the bottom left hand corner. It had red, blue, yellow, and green horizontal stripes and three-quarter sleeves. It looked like it had never been worn.

Stacey's eyes lit up when she saw it. "I forgot I had that one!" she beamed and Mercedes smiled. "I can wear it with my red headband and the shoes Sammy bought me."

The adoration that Stacey had in her voice every time she talked about Sam made Mercedes' heart flutter. The love she could feel within their family was like an abused kitten—shy and fearful, but crazy strong and protective when provoked. With everything going on—it seemed that they had forgotten that they had each other.

With the abrupt departure of their mother—something that still made Mercedes seethe on the inside—they had been reminded and now they didn't know what to do with themselves, but she could tell some major healing was needed.

"You're going to look amazing," Mercedes said and Stacey beamed at her before running off to show her dad. For a second, Mercedes worried that the food would be too cold to eat by the time they were done, but she put that to the back of her mind. It would be warm enough.

She had just tidied and zipped up Stacey's suitcase when Sam walked out of the bathroom. He was blushing something fierce and his hair was dripping wet—the blond strands clinging to his face. The emerald green t-shirt and jeans he had on clung to his damp skin; showing Mercedes that white boy was pretty damn fine under those clothes.

She blushed when his green eyes caught her staring and he blushed even more when he remembered Stacey walking in on his shower while Mercedes was in the room. From the other side of the room, Jeff burst out laughing.

"Why don't you two get everything for breakfast finally ready, while I get these two munchkins cleaned up?" he asked as he ushered the twins into the restroom. He'd shut the door behind them, before they even had a chance to answer.

Sam looked at Mercedes and gave her a grin. "Well, hi," he said and she waved.

"I didn't expect to see you today," he told her as he walked over to grab the suitcase off the bed.

"I know," she replied, "but I couldn't stop thinking about you and your family all day, yesterday." Mercedes admitted as he slid the suitcase under the bed, before looking back at her with raised eyebrows.

"You couldn't stop thinking about me?" he teased and Mercedes quirked her lips at him sarcastically.

"You and your family," she replied back, "I wanted to do something to help, and I know that breakfast isn't a whole lot, but it's all I have to offer you right now—besides my friendship that is."

Mercedes wouldn't admit it even under threat of death, but Sam's lopsided grin was the cutest damn thing she had ever seen. His cheeks were still pink from his earlier embarrassment and his hair was drying quickly, but it was still plastered to his head in some places. Even his green eyes—the one that had looked so listless and angry six days ago—were dancing in amusement and curiosity.

Whatever had gone down in the last twenty-four hours was enough to bring life back into him and she was thankful.

"You bringing my family breakfast means a lot more to me than you think," Sam stated, "And I wanted to thank you, anyway."

Mercedes' head cocked to the side—the question in her eyes. Sam's cheeks reddened again and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "What you did for me in the auditorium yesterday—with that song and then you uh—"He stopped to clear his throat and Mercedes bit back a laugh at the embarrassed flush he was sporting. "You comforted me. I just wanted to tell you that I'm really grateful for you having done that, and for you listening to me and sitting with me all last week."

The sincerity in his voice almost made her cry. "I seriously don't know what I would've done if you hadn't sat with me during lunch those days." He finished with a self deprecating smile.

He was being honest, but Mercedes couldn't help the feeling of doubt that spread through her. "Sam, I didn't even do anything."

"You being there was more than enough. I didn't need you to say anything, Mercedes," he revealed, before he shuffled his feet. "There wasn't anything you could say, really. I wasn't in the state of mind to hear any advice."

"Sometimes silence is more powerful than words," Mercedes mumbled and Sam raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "My auntie says that all the time; I've just never seen it play out in real life."

They shared a smile. "Honestly though, thank you."

"You're welcome, Sam."

It was awkward for a beat, because neither of them knew what to do or say next, but Sam's family solved that problem when they came pouring out of the small bathroom. Stacey and Stevie both looked super cute and Mercedes held in the girlish squeal that was dying to escape.

"Let's eat!" Jeffrey stated and cheers went up around the room. There was a stampede to the small table and then food was being passed around. Stacey was telling Mercedes all about her school and her friends while Stevie was trying to convince his dad to do a science experiment that day. Sam just ate the delicious spread Mercedes had cooked for them and listened to the happy chatter of his family.

He was astounded at the difference. He hadn't seen his father so relaxed in almost a year and Sam couldn't even begin to fathom the change. Mercedes caught on to his apprehension and solved the problem by reaching into the picnic basket and placing a cherry flavored juice box next to his plate.

Sam stared at it for a moment, and then he gave her the brightest smile he possibly could. That was enough thanks for her.


April 16, 2011 (Saturday)

The Motel Six

Lima, Ohio

12:34PM

"So to do this problem, you have to take the derivative," Mercedes instructed Sam. After breakfast, Mercedes had packed up to leave, but Stacey begged her to stay with them for awhile longer. His dad had left right after breakfast to go job hunting and take care of some paperwork—he was very vague on the details, but he promised that he would be back before dinner.

Sam didn't mind either way—he was happy to have her stay and hang out because he did want to get to know her more, but when it came out that he was struggling with his homework—Mercedes had decided to help him with that.

So far, even though his brain felt like mush—he had caught up on his homework from the past week in about three hours instead of having taken all weekend like he'd expected it to. She was great at explaining things to him. It helped that she stuck with the same terminology every time but made the explanations simple. She didn't mock him when he struggled with reading the directions and she didn't make fun of him for not knowing how to do certain math problems.

Mercedes was incredibly patient and he was grateful. Most tutors got fed up with him after an hour or so, but they'd been working for almost four and she was still smiling. That was somewhat of a feat for Sam.

She had even been helping Stevie and Stacey with their homework. Stevie had practically fallen in love when Mercedes told him about her love of chemistry and forensics. Since then he had been staring at her with awe and listening to everything she said without argument. Sam found it funny and not-funny at the same time.

Stacey crushing on Blaine was cute and a bit embarrassing, yet Stevie crushing on Mercedes wasn't? That didn't even make sense in his own head, but he ignored it and concentrated on finishing his last calculus problem. The only thing he had left was a three page essay on Queen Elizabeth for history and he just had to make an outline—though with his writing skills that would take forever.

He watched Stacey read aloud to Mercedes with the dark skinned girl correcting her pronunciation every once in awhile. He had never been happier to have made a friend like Mercedes Jones. Her reading with Stacey gave him a break from his daily dose of humiliation as he tried to help her read. It had always mortified him that he had trouble reading, and it was a welcome relief to take a day off from that embarrassment.

He buckled down to study, because Mercedes had coerced Sam into taking the kids outside to play at Paradise Park once all the homework was done. It hadn't taken much to convince him. He had wanted to get them out of this motel room for fresh air before now, but he'd known he had a ton to catch up on.

Somehow she had solved both problems in one go. She was a genius—that girl. He smiled and finished his last equation with a satisfied sigh. Mercedes looked up and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Done and done!" he told her and she smiled.

"Want to get started on that history outline?" she questioned and Sam's expression soured.

"I really don't think there's any want involved when it comes to essay writing." He muttered with a snarky attitude. Mercedes laughed.

"It's only an outline, Sam," she told him and he grimaced as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Writing an essay should be illegal," he said, "I suck at writing essays. I suck at writing in general." Mercedes shook her head in his direction.

"It may not be your best subject, but I think you could be decent at it. You just have to take it one step at a time," she stated, "And you know I'll help you."

He looked at her hopefully which caused her to laugh. Sam loved hearing her laugh because she rarely ever giggled. If she found something funny, her face would light up and she'd laugh fully—everyone in the vicinity would know that she was amused. Belly laughs from girls were hard to come by, and he found that he liked hearing hers.

Almost as much as he was starting to like her company.


April 16, 2011 (Saturday)

The Music Shop

Lima, Ohio

1:07PM

Jeffrey walked into The Music Shop feeling apprehensive. This was the only old-fashioned music store in Lima that he'd been able to find and he hoped he'd found the correct one. Its' name didn't exactly make it extraordinary, but the atmosphere inside the place certainly did.

As soon as he'd walked in, Jeff was reminded of home. Not any home in particular, but just home. It was such a soothing atmosphere that he couldn't help the small smile that slid onto his face as he peered at the rows and rows of music. His attention was caught when he saw Sam's guitar—looking shiny and new in a glass case on the far side of the room.

His smile disappeared and he took a step towards the case when a petite woman came out of one of the aisles, holding a clipboard in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. He figured she probably worked here. She was wearing a strapless white sundress with glittery navy flats. For a second, he watched her take a quick gulp of coffee—unfortunately that was when he'd opened his mouth and said, "Miss?"

The woman gasped—obviously inhaling whatever hot beverage she was drinking—and Jeff supposed it went down the wrong tube. He felt guilty for taking her by surprise. She coughed and sputtered, fumbling to keep a hold of her clipboard and not spill her drink on the ground.

Jeff wanted to laugh when she set her mug down and wagged her burnt tongue around in the air. He couldn't contain his amusement anymore when she finally noticed him standing there and her hazel eyes got huge with both shock and embarrassment.

She snapped her mouth closed and looked at him for a second. Jeff fought down his chuckles as she smoothed down her dress and hair. Jeff thought she was beautiful—in a very understated way. She had a smooth mocha complexion with short and curly dark hair. That dress made her skin glow.

The only piece of jewelry he could see were two pearl stud earrings in her ears. She looked elegant without even trying. Something Elizabeth had always tried to do. He shook away thoughts of his wife—ex-wife as soon as he could afford to divorce her—when she turned to face him directly.

"Can I help you, darlin'?" she asked after regaining her composure.

Remembering why he was here, Jeff's amusement faded. "Yes, I came by to ask you about a recent purchase you made."

The woman looked intrigued as she gathered her clipboard and coffee mug. She walked a little bit past him and placed her things on the counter. Jeff followed her with his eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, I believe you bought a vintage guitar from my son Samuel about two weeks ago. This was the place he told me about."

"Samuel—oh! Sam Evans," she exclaimed, "Yes, I remember him; such a sweet boy. And you're his father?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered before extending a hand to her, "I'm Jeffrey Evans."

"Lynnette Orchid," she responded with a shake of his hand. He was surprised by how firm her hand shake was for such a small woman. She was probably chin height in comparison to him. They shared a smile. "Now what can I do for you, Mr. Evans?"

"I was wondering how much you would charge me if I wanted to buy the guitar again?" he questioned. Lynn stared at him.

"Oh, I apologize, Mr. Evans, but I hadn't planned on selling the guitar—to anyone." Lynn replied, her gaze sad. Jeffrey closed his eyes in disappointment. It had been a long shot in the first place, but he had to do something. That guitar meant the world to Sam.

"Are you sure?" he asked desperately, "I'd do anything."

Lynn watched him in silence for a moment. "Darlin', why do you want this guitar so badly?"

The question didn't really make sense to Jeff. What did it matter? A shop owner should want to make a sale, but this lady wanted a reason?

"My son loves that guitar and the only reason he gave it up was to help his family. I've—"Jeff stopped himself for a moment, but Lynn waited patiently. "I've been a horrible father to him these past few months, and getting his guitar back will help me make amends."

"Mr. Evans," Lynn began, "Pardon me for my rudeness, but I have to say this. I've met your son, Sam once and when he was in here—he sacrificed something that meant the world to him for his family's happiness. He was miserable without that guitar, and giving something so precious to him away for others tells me a lot about his character." When he stared at her, uncomprehending her point; she leaned towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm saying that Sam wouldn't want you to try and buy his forgiveness," she said bluntly. Jeff stared at her, feeling insulted.

"I'm not trying to buy his forgiveness. I just want to make things up to—"Jeff stopped when he realized what he was saying and how it sounded. Twice in one day, he was being taught lessons by complete strangers. "I didn't even realize..." he trailed off, feeling his face burn with shame and Lynnette gave him a kind smile.

"Mr. Evans, when Sam came in here, I don't think he ever expected to get his guitar back. He willingly—however difficult—traded it for his family's happiness, and if you don't mind me saying, I think you should maybe focus on that instead of his guitar. Guitars can be replaced—family can't." Lynn rubbed his arm softly, before she moved away from him once she'd said her piece.

"How is your living situation coming along?" she asked and Jeff's eyes flew to her.

"How do you know—"he started but Lynn flapped her hand at him.

"He told me," she answered his unasked question. Jeffrey just gaped. It seemed his son had a knack for finding the women that could see through people like transparent curtains. But he found the blunt manner refreshing—he didn't get confused as much.

"And I have a proposition for you," she said causing Jeff's eyebrows to rise.

"What do you mean?" he inquired warily. She gave him a mischievous smile.

"You have any experience with architecture?"


April 16, 2011 (Saturday)

Paradise Park

Lima, Ohio

3:12PM

Stacey and Stevie's giggles resonated across the empty playground section of the park. It was a beautiful day to be outside in Ohio. The grass was bright green and lush. The trees swished lively in the soft breeze. Ducks quaked and ran along the edge of the lake in the distance. Sam had stealthily placed a rather large piece of bread on the tail of one duck—he and Mercedes got a kick out of watching the poor animal get chased by six others wanting the food.

Sam cracked up at the strangled quack that came from the duck as he sprinted from the others on webbed feet. Mercedes couldn't control the amusement she felt watching them in hot pursuit. They had walked around for a few moments until Sam heard the sound of someone calling his name from behind a tree.

Curious, he walked back towards the playground area—not noticing the smug smile on Mercedes' face. When they got there he saw Stacey and Stevie playing on the swings and the entire Glee club—and Blaine—sitting at the large picnic table.

Sam froze and Mercedes laughed at his flabbergasted expression. She pushed him forward—unwilling to let him turn and run. When he was seated at the table, silence reigned supreme, before Rachel cleared her throat.

"Sam, we just wanted to say that we're really sorry for making all of those accusations a couple of weeks ago," she said. There were nods all around the table.

"We're really sorry," Brittany piped up, "We didn't know you were virtually living in a cardboard box." Her apologetic expression was the only thing that kept Sam from wincing and Mercedes from leaping across the table.

Quinn elbowed Brittany causing the blonde to say, "Ow!" Quinn just gave her a dirty look before smiling softly at Sam.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have brought you into that fight with Rachel."

"You didn't," Santana threw in, "Pinocchio did a wonderful job of messing things up, all by herself."

"Me?" Rachel snapped, "You were the first to blame Sam for everything."

"Right," Santana growled, "I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you trouty mouth, but at the time—all the evidence was against you."

Sam stuttered his acceptance of their apologies. Mercedes rolled her eyes with Tina—that was as remorseful as they would get from Santana.

Finn shared a look with everyone at the table and they all got quiet. "To make it up to you, I brought you some clothes—I figured sparkly riding pants weren't quite your style." The tall boy said as he handed Sam a duffle bag full of clothing. Kurt shot his brother a look that had Finn smirking back. Blaine laughed at the interaction between the two.

"I brought you some of my stuff too," said Puck, "And I'm sorry for going all Judge Judy on your ass. I shouldn't have jumped on your case without knowing all the facts first." Sam just smiled at him and took the second bag and the third from Mike.

The Asian grinned at him and Sam chuckled as Artie spoke, "Well, I doubt you would fit any of my clothes—considering my utter lack of developed musculature while you walk around like a blond-haired superman, without the spandex of course. I figured some cash would do you more good than anything."

Artie handed over an envelope with fifty bucks in it. Sam didn't look at him too long. He was feeling the urge to cry. Yeah, his friends had messed up before, but they always came through in the long run. It was a wonderful thing to know you were cared for.

"Thanks guys," he rasped—everyone pretended they didn't hear the emotion in Sam's voice.

"Well, the girls brought some clothes for your little sister and your—"Sam felt more than saw Mercedes flinch and wave her hands in a desperate attempt to get Rachel to stop talking. It didn't work. "—mom."

His whole body jerked at the term and Sam felt his heart stop for a brief moment. He closed his eyes. It seems that Mercedes hadn't told anyone about their conversation, and he felt the appreciation well up inside him at the thought that she had kept what he'd told her in confidence. She was turning out to be a really good friend.

But now he had to explain to everyone else. They were staring between him and Mercedes in confusion. She obviously hadn't known about this part. Mercedes was looking at him with apologetic eyes, but he just gave her a sad smile—silently telling her that it was alright.

"Uh, you guys can give the clothes for my mother to the donation center," Sam said quietly, "My family certainly won't be needing them."

"What do you mean?" Brittany asked. Mercedes shot her a glare, but Sam touched her arm under the table.

"My mom's gone," Sam admitted—his voice breaking on the last word. "She left last Friday." The looks of dawning comprehension on their faces were too much for Sam, so he looked over at the playground to check on Stacey and Stevie.

The two were chasing each other around the slide with blinding smiles on their faces. It lightened his heart to see them so happy. Mercedes' death glare was apparently enough to prevent anyone from asking questions. So they moved onwards.

"Well," Kurt began, "Mercedes told us that you sold your guitar and that just wasn't acceptable to any of us—and we know that it was a vintage guitar so we couldn't pay to get yours back." Sam stared at them, wondering what this was leading to. Kurt nodded at Finn, who stood from the table and jogged to a nearby tree.

When Sam spotted the mahogany guitar in Finn's hands, he froze. "So we went to the pawn shop and got you a different one." Sam couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't stop staring at the guitar in Finn's hands. Finn finally came to a stop in front of Sam, and handed the stunned blond the guitar.

"We know it's not the same, but it was almost new when the previous owner pawned it and Puck fixed up anything that could've been wrong with it." Kurt finished. Sam held the guitar correctly, his fingers running over the brand new strings and the smooth body.

"You bought this for me?" he asked and when he looked up—he saw their smiles—even Santana looked a bit teary.

"We all did," Finn stated and Sam wasn't able to swallow the lump in his throat.

"You guys don't understand—I can't be in Glee club anymore. I can't afford it," Sam confessed and appalled looks appeared on their faces.

"You're not leaving Glee," Rachel protested, "That's where you belong."

"Yeah man, you love music," Puck agreed, "And we'll figure something out with paying for stuff."

"That guitar is for you, Sam," Mercedes said from his side. Sam looked over at her, feeling as though he was about to burst. "Friends don't let friends be alone when they obviously need someone."

And Sam couldn't stop himself from crying. The tears came so suddenly that they took him by surprise. He tilted his head down so no one could see his face and he bit his lip to keep himself silent. He wasn't fooling anybody.

Brittany was the first one to come around the table and wrap him up in a hug.

"Everyone needs a cuddle when they're sad," she told him sternly and Sam let out a laugh. Mercedes pulled the guitar from his grip just before he was surrounded by all the girls in Glee—even Santana and Lauren joined in.

When they let him go, and Sam had wiped his tears away, he was leapt on by Finn, Mike, and Puck. The tangle of arms and legs made Sam laugh as he was dog piled by Glee love. It was an amazing way to start all over, and Sam was happy to know that he had people who loved him.

Eventually, Stacey and Stevie wore themselves out and they joined the group—which turned into an impromptu picnic and concert. Stacey squealed when she saw Kurt, but she threw herself at Blaine and sat on his lap. Sam, of course, was mortified by this, but the couple just laughed. Stevie made instant friends with Artie, Puck, Mike and Finn—their talk of video game tournaments had him entranced. Mercedes and Sam shared a small smile as the group talked, laughed and played songs until the sunset.

Sam, Stacey and Stevie fell asleep on the drive home in Mercedes' car. She was incredibly happy to have seen Sam in such good spirits. She counted her day with the Evans family a complete success.


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