DISCLAIMER: Look on first chapter.
Happy reading! And Happy birthday to Keeponsmiling! (I think that's the correct ff account, but if I'm wrong, I'm sorry!) This is your day early birthday present. :)
And some of you aren't happy with the idea of the pre-date, and I promise that Sam has his reasons. His problems will be addressed within the next couple of chapters and I think some of you might understand more about why he's so hesitant. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
May 8, 2011 (Sunday)
The Jones Estate
Lima, Ohio
8:26AM
Mercedes was up and dressed for church by the time Quinn woke up. She had just finished curling her hair when the blonde girl sat up staring around blearily.
"Morning," Mercedes said as she stood up from her desk chair to walk over to the bed. Quinn blinked at her, before giving her a small smile.
"Good morning," she replied as she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Sunday morning breakfast is in the sun room as usual," Mercedes told her, "I have your clothes from yesterday; washed and dried—so you can wear that." Quinn nodded as she pulled the covers down her legs and went to crawl out of bed.
Mercedes pointed to the folded pile of clothes on her desk and Quinn looked at her. Mercedes observed the girl for a moment. She wanted to know what was going on in Quinn's head so badly that it took everything in her not to just ask. Quinn looked appreciative of the restraint as she stood up.
"Are you feeling better?" Mercedes decided to ask. It was a typical question to ask someone after you found them crying on your doorstep.
"Yes," Quinn replied, "I feel much better than I did last night."
Mercedes smiled at her. "Your mom called me," she told the girl and Quinn's eyes widened. "She was going out of her mind with worry when you didn't come home last night."
Quinn looked incredibly guilty at that. "Is she okay now?"
Mercedes nodded. "I told her that you had a rough day yesterday and just needed to be with a friend last night. As soon as I hung up with her—I got like three other phone calls from Puck, Finn, and Santana. Apparently your mother went through a McKinley High contact list trying to find out where you were."
Quinn's gaze was on her feet. She could tell the girl felt horrible about worrying her mother. When she looked up at Mercedes though, the only thing in her expression was anger. "Why would Finn call? He's the one who left me there."
"Left you where?" Mercedes asked quickly—shit, had Quinn seen her and Sam together yesterday? She wasn't ready for everyone in Glee club to know about their not relationship yet!
Quinn looked slightly suspicious for a moment, but she left it alone. "At the funeral home," she said and Mercedes' heart was about to beat out of her chest. She hadn't seen any cars, but Quinn wasn't in a car if Finn had left her there. "As soon as he drove away—I just started walking and somehow—six miles later—I ended up here."
"You walked six miles on a whim?" Mercedes inquired—feeling her heart calm down. If Quinn had left immediately, then there was no way she had seen Sam and Mercedes together.
Quinn's pale cheeks turned a soft pink and she bit her lip. "I don't think I consciously knew just how much I needed to see you until I was standing on your doorstep," she admitted and Mercedes felt her heart swell.
It took Quinn a long time to confess to personal weaknesses—Mercedes knew that from experience. So seeing her admit something like that meant that she really did want to talk about whatever had happened to her—she just wasn't there yet.
"I can understand that," Mercedes replied and Quinn gave her a shaky smile. "How about you go get dressed, call your mom, and then have breakfast with my family this morning?"
Quinn looked surprised at the invitation, but she agreed anyway. "That sounds wonderful," she replied. Mercedes grinned at her, before she shooed the blonde into the restroom. Mercedes took the time to make her bed and throw all of her dirty clothes down the laundry chute.
Finished with that chore, she made her way downstairs and towards the sun room.
The sun room was located on the far right of the house—and one of its walls was made entirely of glass. In the mornings, the sun beamed brightly into the room—which was where it got its name.
The other three walls were painted white with a clear coating over the top—when the sun hit the walls though—the coating shimmered and shined. It was breathtaking to look at. In the middle of the room was a large oak table with matching chairs.
The Jones' family had used that room for Sunday morning breakfasts since they moved to Lima. Her mother said that it was a way to remind yourself of the beauty of the world and there was no better way to start off a Sunday morning.
When Quinn lived here—the sun room had been her favorite place to just sit and think. She had woken up early constantly and she would watch the sunrise while in her pajamas. Mercedes had asked her why she loved the room so much and Quinn told her that it felt like starting over—seeing the sun come up out of the darkness gave her hope that she would get past whatever was wrong in her life.
Mercedes had wondered many times where that Quinn had disappeared to over the last year.
Her train of thought was interrupted when her mother called her name.
"Mercy," Delia greeted as she walked into the room—carrying a platter of breakfast foods in both hands. She moved past Mercedes to place the platters in the center of the table, before she turned to her daughter with a bright smile on her face. "Good morning, my love," she said as she embraced Mercedes.
Mercedes loved hugging her mother. She always felt so warm and comforting—and she smelled like lavender and chamomile; a scent that soothed Mercedes no matter where she was. Delia squeezed once, before she let go and looked her over.
She brushed a curl off of Mercedes' cheek as she spoke, "You look beautiful, my love. Did you sleep well?"
Mercedes nodded. "Yeah, though I had a friend hogging the covers on my bed."
Delia blinked in shock. "A friend—wait, was it the person who rang the doorbell last night?" she asked and Mercedes nodded, but before she could tell her mother who it was—Quinn walked into the room and Delia gasped.
"Quinn?" she questioned in disbelief as she looked between the two girls. Mercedes answered her unspoken question with a nod and a huge smile lit up her mother's features. "Sweetheart, how are you?"
Delia was across the room in moments and she had Quinn wrapped up in a hug. "Wow," she said when she pulled back, "You look beautiful." Quinn had a sad smile on her face as Mercedes' mom brushed her blonde hair behind her ear. Mercedes had to grin at the interaction.
Delia had loved the pregnant, overly hormonal Quinn almost immediately upon meeting her. Quinn had been perplexed by the warm welcome—and even more so when Delia did everything in her power to make sure she was comfortable. The first week—Mercedes had laughed herself to tears every day. And by the second week, Quinn had gotten used to all the love and acceptance that her mother showed her without request.
She soaked up the attention like a sponge. It helped that Quinn and her mother shared a love of oatmeal raisin cookies, romantic comedies, and Will Smith. They'd bonded instantly once the conversations got started. It made Mercedes smile every time she'd heard the two giggling over something, before she was roped into joining.
She knew that her mother had worried and missed the blonde girl. She had asked about her on many occasions and Mercedes was sad that she didn't have very good answers. Quinn—whether she knew it or not—had become part of the Jones family.
"I'm alright, Mrs. Jon—"Mercedes couldn't help but snicker at the stern look her mother shot Quinn, who instantly corrected herself, "Delia. I've just been a bit busy this past year."
Mercedes knew that her mom didn't believe that for a second, but she was grateful that her mother was tactful enough to see that it wasn't the right time to call the blonde on her bullshit.
"Oh," Delia said suddenly, "You would drop by on the one weekend David is off at a dentistry conference in Michigan." If Delia was disappointed, Quinn looked crushed.
Quinn and Mercedes' dad had clicked the moment she'd come in the door with Mercedes—all blonde, frail-looking, and pregnant. Her daddy was protective over all women, but he hated the way Quinn had been dismissed by her father. Quinn had attached herself to him almost immediately and David fathered her like nobody's business.
Most people would've been jealous of their friends having their parent's affection, but Mercedes knew damn well that her parents loved her to no end and they showed her just as much as they showed Quinn.
So, the fact that Quinn had been practically adopted didn't bother her at all. "I'll have to tell him that you stopped by," Delia told the blonde as she led her to the table, "Will you come by again soon?"
Quinn froze at the question and both women noticed the tears that flooded her eyes. Mercedes fought every instinct within her not to ask, and she shook her head at her mother when Delia opened her mouth to say something. Her mother looked dismayed, but she kept her mouth shut.
Quinn finally recovered. "I-I would love that." She replied and Delia looked gleeful.
"That's fantastic, my love," she said and Quinn shot her a soft smile as she sat down in the chair closest to her. When Delia left the room to get Trey, Annabelle, and Jasper, Mercedes sat down next to the blonde.
"Are you okay?" she asked and Quinn nodded at her. "Do you really plan on coming back again?"
Quinn met her eyes. "If you'll have me," she replied with such sincerity that Mercedes couldn't help but give her a bright smile.
"Of course we—"Mercedes was cut off by a loud cry from the doorway.
"Quinn!" Annabelle shrieked as she flew into the room. The blonde girl had only just stood to her feet when a curly-haired blur crashed into her with a squeal. Quinn laughed loudly. It was the first time that Mercedes had heard Quinn laugh like that in a while.
The blonde was greeted just as enthusiastically by Jasper—except he toddled and tripped a couple of times on his way to her instead of running. And he couldn't quite pronounce Q's yet, so he ended up saying something that sounded like "inny!"
Trey, being the seven year old that he was, pretended like he wasn't just as excited to see her, but both Mercedes and Quinn could tell by the tight way he hugged her. Mercedes' older brothers would be taking final exams this week—so they'd all be moving back home while she was in New York.
They all sat down to a warm meal—filled with laughter and loud chatter. When it came to an end—Delia asked if Quinn would like to come to church with them, but the blonde declined—her mother would be picking her up in about five minutes or so. The kids looked sad at that, but Quinn gave them all hugs and promised that she'd come by again.
Mercedes and Delia walked her to the front door when her mother pulled up in the driveway. Quinn was pulled into a hug by Delia and she looked like she was about to burst into tears when the embrace ended. Mercedes was shocked when Quinn wrapped her in a hug.
"Thank you so much, Mercy," the blonde whispered and Mercedes tightened her arms around the girl's waist.
"You're welcome," she replied and Quinn stepped out of the hug. She walked down the steps and got into her mother's car with one more look at the two of them standing by the door. Mercedes and her mother watched the car disappear before Delia wrapped an arm around Mercedes' shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug.
"Any idea what happened to her?" she asked and Mercedes shook her head.
"She wasn't ready to talk," Mercedes admitted and Delia leaned down to place a kiss on Mercedes' curls.
"She will be soon," her mom promised and Mercedes nodded in reply. "Come on, sweetheart—let's get ready for church."
The two walked inside and while Mercedes went to get jackets—her mother went to round up the younger kids. Mercedes tried to take her mind off of Quinn, but it wasn't working.
May 8, 2011 (Sunday)
The Music Shop
Lima, Ohio
1:16PM
When Lynn walked into The Music Shop, she could tell that something was wrong. Jeff had come in this morning to install the new oak flooring in the restaurant space, and she could hear him banging around through the wall.
The only problem—there shouldn't be quite that much banging.
Lynn placed her bag down behind the counter and made sure that she had locked the front door behind her. The Music Shop would be closed until the café was up and running. There were too many safety issues with all of the remodeling for her to have tried to handle both—and since it was pretty much only Jeff and herself doing all the work—she'd decided to close the shop down for now.
She pulled off her purple cardigan and tossed it onto the counter, before making her way through the newly made opening in the far left wall of the shop. They had cut out the spot for the two sets of double doors that would be put in to allow access between the restaurant and the shop, but they hadn't finished trimming it yet.
When the bottom of her tennis shoe hit the smooth new flooring that was spreading out across the room, a delighted smile crossed her features. It looked beautiful. She was amazed at their progress in almost two weeks. Everything had been stripped out and the walls had been repaired and the windows replaced.
Last week—she and Jeff had finally gotten the walls painted. The wall to the far right would have a bar in front of it—and it was the only wall with a prominent color. She had painted it a very dark purple and against the white oak flooring—it looked amazing. The rest of the walls were a soft mint green.
Lynn glanced up and saw Jeff near the middle of the room. She couldn't believe all that he'd gotten done since this morning. He must've been here super early.
He was on his hands and knees pounding away at the flooring—his features were twisted in intense concentration and she winced at the loud bangs that echoed through the empty room every time the hammer hit a nail.
"Jeff!" she called. He didn't seem to have heard her, so Lynn walked closer to him.
"Jeffrey!" she yelled and he dropped the hammer when he glanced up at her in shock.
The sudden silence was disconcerting—especially after all the loud noise. "Lynn," he said in surprise as he sat back on his haunches. "I wasn't expecting you today."
She gave him a smile. "I know," she said as she moved over to him. "I decided to stop in and see if I could help out."
Jeff gave her a sarcastic quirk of the lips. "I'm sure it had nothing to do with you trying to avoid doing your financial profile." Lynn couldn't help wrinkling her nose at him.
She had been avoiding that part of business and he knew it, but that wasn't the total reason she had been here today. She had actually planned on staying home and finishing that up, but when she'd gone to church this morning—something told her that she should come in today. And Lynn was far too used to those feelings to even consider ignoring them.
They usually put her exactly where she needed to be, but Jeff didn't need to know about that.
"I admit nothing," she joked and Jeff shot her an amused look as he grabbed the bottle of water that was in his toolbox. She watched as he took a long drink from the bottle before he used the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.
Jeffrey Evans was a very attractive man, Lynn admitted to herself. He had blond hair—a bit longer than she suspected he usually kept it because of the way he constantly moved it out of his face—and pale skin. He was very well toned and had the most gorgeous green eyes she had ever seen.
He looked like an older version of his son, and Sam was a handsome young man. But the scruffy hairs on his chin distinguished Jeffrey and Sam—Lynn had seen that baby face many times in the last couple of weeks.
"How long have you been here?" she asked—mostly as an attempt to distract herself from focusing on her friend's body, "You've made incredible progress."
Jeff didn't meet her eyes and Lynn finally paid attention to his body language. Even though he looked relaxed, he was also very tense. His expression was forced nonchalance and he was swallowing nervously.
"Jeff?" she asked in concern. "How long have you been here?"
"I got here about three this morning," he confessed and Lynn couldn't stop the worried frown from forming on her face.
"Why?" she asked as she dropped to her knees and sat beside him. "Is everything alright?"
"I couldn't sleep, that's all." He told her with a wave of dismissal and Lynn rolled her eyes. She could tell that he was lying. She just stared at him—her arms crossed. Jeff's eyes flittered to hers and he sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No," she said immediately and he slumped forward. Lynn's breath caught in her throat. Jeff looked so defeated and worried in that moment—Lynn didn't know what to do with herself.
"I can't afford the room at the motel anymore," he replied—his voice full of shame and guilt and such pain that Lynn wanted to wrap him up in a hug and protect him from the rest of the world.
"My savings account is completely empty—Sam's college fund is down to fifteen dollars and Stevie and Stacey's college fund has been overdrawn for two weeks."
"I found out yesterday that Elizabeth cancelled all of our credit cards," he said, "And the only reason I heard about it was because the bank called and informed me." His head hanging, Jeff laughed softly.
She couldn't tell if he'd done so to stop himself from crying or not, but she guessed that was why.
"I went in and talked to the motel manager late last night after the kids went to bed—hoping that I could talk him into letting me stay a couple days for free. Just until I could figure something out, you know," Jeff confessed—Lynn could hear the embarrassment in his tone and she could feel her heart breaking for the man. "He laughed in my face. He told me that if I couldn't pay—I had to be out by Monday or he would call the police and I could stay there for free."
Lynn was appalled. How could someone be so cruel? She couldn't comprehend it—especially telling a man with three kids that he had to get out or go to jail. She had never been so ashamed of her society before. Such behavior was unacceptable.
"Jeff," she said softly as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I don't know what to do, Lynn," he told her—and the tears in his voice had Lynn's eyes watering. He turned to look at her and his green eyes were so tormented that Lynn felt her stomach twist. "I've been trying so hard to keep their spirits up—to keep them believing that everything would be alright. And now, I can't even give them a place with a roof over their heads. What kind of father am I? What kind of example am I to Sam, to Stevie?"
Jeff slammed his fist into the ground so hard that it cracked one of the wooden boards they'd been using for flooring. Lynn flinched more at the rage that took over his expression than the loud sound he'd made.
"I can't provide for my children," he growled out—seething anger and heartbreaking pain in his voice. "How am I supposed to face them tonight? How am I supposed to tell them that in less than forty-eight hours we're going to be homeless? There's nowhere we can go. I can't afford to drive back to Tennessee to stay with family, and I can't just up and leave this job that I have here. And Sam—God Sam, I can't tear him away from this place—he's never had that many friends before but now—" Jeff apparently was too restless to sit anymore. He stood up and starting pacing around on the steel-grated floor.
"Jeff—"Lynn tried to interrupt, but he was on a rampage.
"I've been trying Lynn!" he shouted, "I've used my paychecks to put food on the table and pay for basic stuff they needed like soap and shampoo. I knew this was coming, but I didn't think it would be this soon. Sam is leaving on Wednesday to go on the Nationals trip for Glee club, and I can't take him from that to ask him to work." Jeff stopped ranting for a moment to give Lynn a look of such desperate sorrow that she felt her heart rise in her throat and choke her.
"Did you know that he put in his request for time off two days after they placed at Regionals?" Jeff asked her softly and Lynn shook her head. "It means the world to him if he could go to this. And I can't—no I won't take that kind of joy away from my son."
Watching him, Lynn felt a deep respect for him grow in the pit of her stomach. She could see how ashamed he was of not being able to provide for his kids—but she could also see that most of his pain and guilt and worry was for his children. He wanted the best for them so badly that he was tearing himself apart trying to fix this on his own.
That kind of determination was worthy of anyone's respect. Jeff was such a kindhearted man and his children were the sweetest things she'd ever met. He didn't deserve to go through this—no one did.
And it hit Lynn like a ton of bricks. The answer was so obvious that she couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of it before.
"Come stay with me," she blurted, before she could even begin to think about how Jeff would react. He froze mid-step and the look on his face was warring between disbelief and dismay.
"What?" he gasped out as he turned to face her. Lynn took a deep breath.
"I said come stay with me," she repeated and Jeff started shaking his head.
"Absolutely not—"
"And why not?" Lynn demanded—her hands falling on her hips.
"You're my boss!" he cried and Lynn narrowed her eyes at him.
"Jeffrey Evans," she thundered, "I may be your employer, but I am your friend first." She could feel herself shoring up for a fight. Lynn was sure that her eyes were flashing because Jeff suddenly looked both defensive and wary.
"I don't know about this," Jeff said and Lynn made her way towards him.
Jeff had never seen Lynn pissed off before, and he was suddenly very happy that he hadn't. Her hazel eyes were filled with fire and her lips were a thin line as she stormed towards him.
"Tell me your reasons," she said—her tone firm, "And I guarantee that I can dismiss every one of them." The challenge took him by surprise, but it didn't seem like Lynn was planning on backing down. He'd known that she was a strong-willed woman, but being face to face to it was something he hadn't been expecting.
But he wasn't a charity case and he wouldn't let her do so much for him—especially because he couldn't pay her back for it all.
"You're my employer—it would look wrong." He started and Lynn's eyes narrowed.
"That I am," she admitted, "but you're forgetting that this is my business and I run it any way that I want. I don't answer to anyone but myself."
"I have three kids—how would they all fit in your house?" he asked.
"My house has five bedrooms," she replied, "You haven't been to my second floor."
"Sam is allergic to cats."
"Good thing I only have a dog."
"Stacey and Stevie are incredibly messy and like running around."
"That's what chores are for and I have a big backyard that they could play in."
Damn it—he didn't believe that she would actually argue him, but he could clearly see that she wouldn't give this up. He stared in her direction, unable to believe that he was even considering this.
"I can't pay you back for all this," he told her, ashamed and he was shocked when nothing but hurt filled Lynn's expression.
"Is that what you think this is about?" she asked softly, "Do you honestly think that I give a damn about your money, Jeffrey Evans?" He felt so guilty at the disappointment he could see in her gaze.
"If money was what I cared about—I never would have become your friend. If money was what mattered to me—I wouldn't be working right now—I would be married to the rich man that had proposed to me in college. If money was what I cared about—I would still be married to Davis," Lynn told him, "Money doesn't matter half as much to me as you seem to think it does."
Jeff looked away from her and Lynn reached out and grabbed his chin in one soft hand. "Look at me, Jeffrey," she said sternly and Jeff couldn't help but follow her insistent touches. When his eyes met hers—he was surprised to see the compassion and the anger in her gaze. "Am I arguing with Jeffrey Evans—the father or Jeffrey Evans—the man?" she asked.
What the hell did that mean? "There's no difference," he replied and she shook her head.
"There's a huge difference," she responded, "Jeffrey Evans the father is the one I started talking to—the man who would do anything to give his kids the best that he could, but Jeffrey Evans the man—he's the one with some severely wounded pride and a compromised sense of self-worth."
Jeff was speechless as he stared at her. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I'm arguing with a man whose shame and guilt and mistakenly lost confidence is affecting his good judgment," she replied—her tone was as sharp as a knife blade and her words cut Jeffrey to the core. It hurt to have someone he respected so much tell him that he wasn't thinking correctly, and it hurt even more to realize she was right.
"The main reason you don't want to do this is because you feel like I'm going to shame you if you can't pay me back," she told him and Jeff flinched. He hated that she could see right through him. Insecurities were insecurities for a reason—and Lynn was laying all of his out on the table for the world to see.
Well, it was just Lynn, but that almost made it worse. This was the woman who had brought him out of a never-ending shame spiral. She'd given him hope that he could build a better future for his children, and here she was offering him saving grace again. That sort of kindness was a rarity. To know that the person who had helped him so much could see straight through his bullshit was humiliating.
"And I'm going to tell you right now—I don't give a flying fuck about you paying me back."
Hearing such coarse words come out of Lynn's mouth had Jeff almost fainting from shock. His wide eyes looked directly into her scorching gaze as she stared him down. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
She was crying as she looked at him—her bangs falling over her forehead and eyes, but instead of making her look weak—it tripled the strength in her form. She wasn't going to walk away from this. "I want you safe," she said, "I want your kids to have a bed to sleep in. I want them to feel like they have a home. I don't want you or your kids to worry about where you'll be tomorrow night."
She removed her hand from his face and stood tall in front of him. "There shouldn't be terror in your eyes every night. You shouldn't have to miss a meal because your children need food. I will not sit by and watch as people that I care about live in misery. The people in my life wouldn't allow me to do so when I'd fallen into depression over Davis. And I won't allow you to know that kind of shame and guilt and sadness."
Lynn got right into his face. Her eyes were filled with righteous anger and compassion and sorrow. "Make no mistake Jeffrey Evans, I won't let you make yourself miserable because of some misguided pride," she told him—her eyes flashing. "I will argue with you until you can't take it anymore. But I promise that from this moment on—you are not alone and you will not walk this path from poverty without my friendship. I have been blessed beyond all comparison to get where I have in this life. And if giving you a helping hand will bring joy and happiness back into your lives—then I will do it."
Jeff couldn't breathe properly. Lynn's hazel eyes shined with tears as she met his eyes. "By the life and the breath that God has given me, you and your family will not be homeless another day." She said and Jeffrey wasn't able to argue with that.
He was blown away by the sincerity in her words. How had he met such a woman? How could anyone even begin to want to help his family? They were so far under that many would've run away from him by this point—but she was throwing herself in to this uphill battle completely. And for some reason, she had total faith that they would win. He couldn't even process that—much less compete with it.
Looking into her fierce eyes, Jeffrey said, "Okay." And Lynn beamed at him. Jeff couldn't decide if he had made the best or worst decision of his life, but it felt awesome to have found some sort light in this tunnel.
Now, he just had to find a way to tell his children.
May 8, 2011 (Sunday)
The Motel Six
Lima, Ohio
7:18PM
Sam was fiddling with his guitar when his dad walked into the motel room. He hadn't seen the man all day long. Sam had been surprised to get a text from his dad saying that he'd gone into work early and would be back pretty late—Sam had heard him come in pretty late last night, but he'd fallen asleep soon after.
"Hey dad," he greeted as Stacey leapt off the bed to run to her father. He watched as his dad swept the seven-year old up into his arms—giving her hugs and kisses; he even rubbed his scruff against her soft cheek and she giggled at the tickling sensation.
Sam remembered when his dad used to do that to him as a kid. It had been the best part of his day—greeting his dad in the most ridiculous ways when he came home. That stopped when he turned twelve though—it wasn't exactly cool to run to the door screaming "Daddy!" when you were over four feet tall.
Plus, it would look kind of creepy for a seventeen-year old to do that. Sam shook off his thoughts as his dad lifted Stevie from where he was sprawled on the bed reading and tossed the boy lightly in the air.
Stevie let out a laugh when his dad caught him. He watched them converse for a moment, before his dad tossed the kid into the air again.
"Better be careful, dad," Sam teased as he played some experimental chords on his guitar. "You might pull something if you try to throw him too high."
His dad walked over and clipped him on the ear—causing Sam to smirk up at his father. "Watch it kid," Jeff said, "Your old man is in great shape."
Sam poked him in the stomach and said, "Uh-huh—you might want to lay off the Ramen for a while—it's starting to show."
Sam found himself in a playful headlock before he could blink. He started laughing as his dad took the guitar from his lap and placed it against the wall, before the wrestling match actually started.
Stevie and Stacey were cheering from the other side of the room as Sam tried to take his father down. He couldn't resist laughing when his dad tickled his stomach though.
"That's cheatin'!" he called to his father as he latched onto his dad's leg.
"Nope," Jeff replied, "That's what you get for acting like you have some jokes." Sam moved around and almost managed to pin his dad, but Jeff was too quick for him and he laid Sam out immediately.
The smug smile on his father's face as he let go and ruffled Sam's way too long locks made the teenager quirk his lips sarcastically. "Yeah, yeah," he said and Jeff smiled.
"You'll beat me one day, muffin head."
Sam stuck his tongue out at his dad and Jeff laughed. Sam made a move to stand up, but he saw his father's playful expression fade. Sam was really worried when Jeff said, "We need to have a talk, kiddos."
Stacey, Stevie, and Sam all looked at each other in confusion. Sam noticed the pain and guilt in his dad's eyes, and that concerned him more than anything. Jeff pulled a chair from the table to the edge of the bed and the three kids sat down in front of him when he plopped down into the chair.
Stacey crawled onto Sam's lap and Stevie sat next to him. Sam just placed an arm around his sister as she curled up into his side, but he stared at his father.
"Last year—when we moved," Jeff began quietly, "We didn't move simply because I got a promotion." Sam's brow furrowed in confusion.
"We moved because your mother was having an affair with one of her co-workers," And Sam's whole world started falling apart. It felt like he had tunnel vision. He listened as his father told them everything—from her cheating to their fighting and then to the fact that they would be moving in with Lynn. It took him almost two hours to get it all out, and by the end—his father and his little brother and sister were all in tears.
Sam felt numb. He didn't know what to think anymore. Or even how to feel. His mother was a cheater? She didn't just abandon them because they were poor? Did she love them? Did she ever love them?
The thoughts racing through Sam's mind just kept getting darker and darker—until Sam was filled with an unspeakable rage. He watched blankly as his father comforted Stevie and Stacey—and as he put them to bed, Sam wasn't even aware of walking out of the room.
He hadn't heard Stacey call his name, or his father's agonized gaze on his back. He just walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him. It was at the forefront of his mind to just walk away, find his mother and give her a piece of his mind. He wanted to just get the hell out of here.
He couldn't even comprehend anything anymore. He wanted some sort of answer—revenge maybe, but the thought of his family inside that room, of his friends, of Mercedes and Sam just couldn't walk away again.
He didn't make it past the porch when he felt his legs give out. Sam sat down heavily on the wooden steps and just stared at his lap. He lost track of time. He wasn't even aware how long he'd been sitting there, but when he heard the motel door open behind him—he didn't move.
Jeff had been worried that Sam would walk away again, but when he saw his son sit down on the porch—his heart stopped beating out of control. The relief he felt was immense, but the guilt was overwhelming. His kids had looked heartbroken, and he knew that Stacey and Stevie understood what had happened objectively, but Sam—Sam had been cheated on before and he knew far more about it emotionally.
He had also been the most attached to his mother when he'd moved here. He'd spent seventeen years with her, and he probably felt betrayed beyond all belief. He cursed Elizabeth to deep hell inside his head as he tucked the twins into bed.
They fell asleep pretty quickly—as long as he didn't leave their sight. When he was sure they were out, Jeff got off the bed and walked to the front door. He opened it and walked outside—his keys in his pocket. Jeff closed the door before he turned to his son. He recognized the defeated posture and it made his heart hurt.
Jeff sat down next to Sam and waited. It didn't take long.
"Why the hell does she ruin everything for me?" Sam asked—his voice was a hiss of rage and despair. Jeffrey looked at his son and he recoiled internally at the hatred he could see in his son's green eyes. "Every time I'm close to being happy with my life—she does something to take that away from me!"
Sam's fists were clenched and Jeff wanted to howl at the unfairness of it all. His children didn't deserve this type of pain. And Sam was in pain—a horrible, emotional torment that was sucking the faith right out of his son. Jeff wished he could take it away.
"I've found people who love me and who care about me—for who I am, and I get so close to just accepting it in my life, but she just takes that away from me by being so fucking selfish!" Sam growled, "I hate feeling so afraid and guilty every day. She's got me terrified that you're going to walk out on us too."
"Jesus," Jeff breathed in horror—he had been afraid that his children felt that way, but to have that fear acknowledged and validated; it took everything in him to not break into tears. "Sam, I'm not going anywhere."
"I know that!" Sam protested—his voice broken. Jeff saw the tears spilling over his son's lids and his heart bled with pain. "I know, dad. I want to hate her so badly—but I can't stop remembering how she was before all of this—and now I'm thinking that she never cared about us at all. How could she be so selfish? How could she not know that this would hurt us? Why would she do this, dad?"
Sam was looking to him for all of the answers to questions that Jeffrey himself didn't know the response to. He felt like his heart was in his throat. "She called me last weekend," Sam confessed and Jeff felt disbelief and murderous rage fill his body.
"She did what?" he demanded and Sam looked at him.
"She called, but I didn't answer," He admitted, "I was so scared to hear what she had to say that I just ignored the call."
"Did she leave a voicemail?" Jeff asked and Sam shook his head. Jeff couldn't believe the nerve of that woman. She called his son instead of him—the son that she had stolen from and left to discover her disappearance. The disgust he felt towards the woman he'd been married to for so long was no longer disquieting, but justified.
"I don't want to feel like this anymore," Sam whispered and Jeffrey pulled his son into an embrace. Sam clutched him like a drowning man finally finding a life raft. The raw pain he heard in Sam's cries made Jeffrey roaring angry. Nobody hurt his children like this and got away with it.
He was going to have to look into that divorce stuff tomorrow. He'd be damned if that woman had any claim over his children. He wouldn't let her hurt his kids anymore. Elizabeth was going down and she was getting the hell out of their lives—for good.
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