CHAPTER 3

Summary: Mercedes meets Sam in person to answer her question about grief.

Rating: Teen

Warning: Cursing, brief mention of sexual encounters

Author's Note: Thanks for following, reviewing and reading!

THE SMELL OF GRIEF

SAM

I was in the supermarket today when I walked through a cloud of perfume. It's said that scent evokes memories stronger than other senses and I'm inclined to agree, as I breathed the perfume and tried not to cry. You see, someone had gotten up that morning and headed to the supermarket wearing the same perfume my grandmother used to wear and it was her smell that I was surrounded by for a few moments, standing between the leeks and the strawberries. - Veroncia Foale, On Grief, And the Addition of Hormones

I wanted to hang up the phone. I felt stupid for calling so late. Mercedes was impatient.

"Sam?"

"Uh, yeah, um, so what you said tonight about smelling grief and everything, I just wanted to know, hell I don't know – "

I heard some noise in the background, like she was shushing someone.

"That's why you called me?" Her voice was dull as if she were giving a lecture and nobody was listening. I lit up a cigarette.

"Yeah, if this isn't a good time - "

"It's not."

I took a drag from my cigarette and exhaled.

"Sorry."

"Why do you want to know what it smells like?"

"Because I like answers. Right now, I can't come up with any."

"Meet me on Friday morning and we can talk about it."

"I can call back. I mean we don't have to -"

She interrupted me.

"You ever been to Earl Joe's?"

Earl Joe's was this hole in the wall coffee shop that was better than Starbucks by one thousand percent.

"Yeah, why?"

"Be there on Friday morning around 9:30."

I noticed that she didn't ask if I was free or if that was a good time. None of that stuff was up for negotiation. I had nothing planned for Friday morning or any other morning and I sensed that she knew that which bothered me. I wanted to lie and say I would be out-of-town. I wanted to seem like less of a loser.

"I have to write."

"Write?"

"I have this deadline, so I don't think I can do 9:30."

I heard that noise in the background again. Was it quiet bickering? I couldn't place it.

"You'll always have a deadline. I'll see you Friday morning." Her voice softened a little, and she sounded less dull and annoyed, just resigned to the fact that we were meeting.

"But I just - "

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"Go to sleep, Sam. You need your rest." Then she hung up.

She knew I would be there and saw through my bullshit. I finished my cigarette and called my agent Artie. He didn't answer for a long time and when he finally did he sounded groggy.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think people can smell emotions?"

"What?"

"Can people smell –"

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about? Have you finished the book?"

I got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out my vodka and cranberry juice.

"Were you asleep?"

"Yeah, Sudafed knocks me out."

"I didn't know you had allergies."

"Neither did I. It's Lord Tubbington. Thank God, we're getting rid of him."

"That's a dumb name for a cat."

"You know what else is dumb?"

"What?"

"Smelling emotions."

"I walked into that didn't I?"

"Faster than Brittany. Now what is this about?"

I told him everything from meeting Mercedes and Quinn, the scarf smelling incident and making me a cologne. Artie wasn't impressed.

"They sound like New Age nut cases."

"I'm meeting Mercedes on Friday."

"How many chapters have you finished?"

"Artie –"

"Schuester keeps calling me about the book. I thought moving would help."

I sipped my drink.

"Me too."

Artie sighed.

"I know it's hard but –

"Have you ever lost anybody?"

"No but I –"

"Then you don't know how hard it is."

"Come to the city. We'll hit the clubs, do some coke…"

I laughed.

"We've never done coke and we're too old for clubs. Besides, Brittany would have a fit."

"You're right about the coke. I need to stop reading Bret Easton Ellis. And I can handle my wife."

"Sure, you can."

"Come for a visit anyway. We'll just chill out."

I finished my drink and poured another.

"I saw a little girl tonight that looked like Isabel."

"I'm sorry, Sam, I wish I could –"

"She had on a pink coat. She fell down in the snow. And she had blue eyes, remember how Izzy's eyes crinkled up when she smiled?"

Artie was silent. I kept talking.

"She knew I lost someone just by smelling my scarf."

"What was her name again?"

"Mercedes."

"Do you have a last name?"

"The store website says Fabray."

"You're in a bad place. She's screwing with your head. But knowing you, you're not going to listen to me."

I grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos from the cupboard and tore it open.

"Of course, I'm not."

"I'm doing a background check."

I rolled my eyes.

"Do what you need to do."

"I want to see ten chapters by Friday."

"Yeah, whatever." I said and hung up.

I spent the rest of the night getting drunk, eating junk food and smoking cigarettes. I fell asleep. I had a dream about Mercedes. She stood in a misty fog; I couldn't see her face. She held up my scarf, twisted it in her hands, and water came out. "You have too many tears," she said. I woke up lying on my bedroom floor, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels. My jeans were damp. I smelled like urine and I was sweating. I stood up and wobbled my way toward the bathroom and I threw up in the toilet. I spent the morning drinking black coffee and ignoring the phone. When I got tired of being cooped up in my messy living room, I took a walk in the woods behind my house, taking a trail that led to a creek. I liked how the snow crunched underneath my boots. Something about the cold, winter air, made me feel alive. I loved it. The ice and snow covered trees sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine. Whenever I walked in the woods, I carried a baseball bat with me. After years of living in the city, I always carried some form of protection. I had a gun at home, but taking it on a hike in the woods seemed a bit much. Every now and then, starlings and blue jays flew overhead, I saw bits of bright blue sky through the clusters of tree branches. When I got to the creek, I stood on the bank and stared at the frozen water.

Daddy where do fish go when the water freezes?

No place.

They have to go somewhere…

I took my bat and slammed it against the creek, breaking the ice. I watched the dark water rise to the surface. I kept smashing the ice, chasing out her voice, her face… but Isabel was beside me, holding my hand, I felt her all around me.

ooo

Earl Joe's was empty when I got there on Friday morning. It was a small white house at the end of Queen Bee Lane and if it wasn't for the red and white striped sign out front you would think it was someone's home. The hardwood floor creaked as I walked inside, and the smell of chickoree coffee and baking bread wafted in the air. The man behind the counter was bald and had a nose ring; he stared at me as I looked at the chalkboard menu. I ordered a black coffee for myself, and a ginger tea for Mercedes. He nodded, squinted his eyes, and made the coffee and tea. My stomach growled.

"What's baking?"

"Tea rolls. They'll be done in a few minutes. Do you want one?"

"Yeah, I'll have two."

He put the hot drinks on a tray and pushed it toward me.

"Go ahead and sit down. I'll bring the rolls out to you."

"Thanks."

He stared at me again. His gray eyes were so intense like he was trying to remember every detail of my face.

"Would you like to try a sample of our hibiscus brownies. It's my recipe."

"Hibiscus?"

The barista nodded, his eyes grew wide with excitement.

"You see, I use Dutch cocoa and –"

Just then the door opened and Mercedes walked into the coffee shop, all bundled up in a bright yellow coat, her dreadlocks hanging down her back. I waved at her.

"Hey."

She looked at me and smiled, biting her lip.

"Were you waiting long?"

"No, I got you a ginger tea. Let's sit down," I glanced over at the barista who looked at Mercedes as if he wanted to slap her, "We'll be over here, I said.

He sighed.

"I'll get the rolls."

We sat down at a table near the window. She took off her coat and reached for the mug of tea.

"Thanks for getting this."

"No problem. How are you doing?"

She shrugged.

"Alright."

I was never good at small talk, so I got to the point.

"Are you a witch?"

"What?"

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

Mercedes laughed.

"No, I don't."

"Then are you psychic?"

"No."

"Then what are you?"

"Different."

I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair.

"Do you smell anything now?"

"Coffee."

"You know what I mean."

The barista came out with the rolls and put them on the table, shooting a death dagger glare at Mercedes, who didn't notice because she was gazing out the window at the passerby. She sipped her tea and picked up a roll, breaking it in half.

"These are great, especially when they're fresh out of the oven like this," she bit into the roll, closing her eyes as she chewed, "Go on and try one."

I touched her arm.

"Does Quinn do what you do too?"

"Blackberry jam tastes so good on these rolls. I'll get us some," she got up from the table, and I reached out and grabbed her hand.

"You're probably used to gliding past people, dropping shit on their doorstep and just walking away, but I'm not letting you do that me."

She sat back down.

"That man likes you."

"How do you know?"

"Aside from the obvious, I smelled his lust. It's hot and sweet like burned vanilla sugar."

"He could be attracted to you."

She looked at me and took another bite of her roll.

"It was going in your direction. Besides, I picked up on it the second I walked in. He's pissed cause he thinks I ruined his game. Like he had a chance. You're not his type."

"I'm not gay."

"I didn't say you were."

I watched her eat. For a second I imagined what she would look like lying naked on my bed, eating something decadent like strawberries dipped in warm chocolate. I craved a woman's touch. Just being wrapped up in a woman's arms, filling her up, that awesome feeling of sliding into her…

"Stop it," she said.

"Huh?"

Then I realized my scent was giving off my emotions.

"Am I burned vanilla sugar too?"

"No, you're lemons and sand."

"Why I don't smell it?"

"Most people don't know their own scent."

"Why?"

"Because they don't know themselves."

She finished eating the roll and drank her ginger tea.

"I don't know how to explain how I am."

I picked up the sugar bowl and dumped a few teaspoons into my coffee.

"I lost my virginity to a girl I met at the beach. We did it in sand dune after dark. She worked at a lemonade stand, and she smelled like lemons. It lasted ten minutes and I never saw her again."

Mercedes looked at me and said nothing. I felt like an idiot for telling her that story. I've never told anyone that story.

"Is that what makes my scent?" I asked, "Is that how it works?"

She stared out the window. I wished I could read her mind.

"Mercedes?"

After a few moments, she glanced over at me and said:

"Yes?"

"What does grief smell like?"

"You already know."

"Tell me anyway."

"Wet stones. Mud. Sawdust. At least on you it does."

"Oh."

I remembered the headstone and the rain splashing against it. I heard her voice shouting for me. Orange mud squished beneath my boots, wooden boards piled next to a deep hole. I couldn't breathe.

Mercedes grabbed my hand.

"Are you ok?"

I closed my eyes. It felt like I was drowning deep into an ocean, just going deeper and deeper, letting the water cover me, I had to join her somehow, didn't I? It was painful, yes, but I heard about a white light…

"Sam!"

I tried to speak. All these words formed in my head but they ran together like free verse poetry – stay, go, sunrise, empty porch, rag doll, smile, too bright, always too bright…

"Mr. Evans we found her body"

Mercedes said my name again. I clung to her hand and opened my eyes. I was finally able to breathe.

"I don't know what happened," I said.

"Do you want to go to the hospital?"

"No."

"You look pale."

"I'm always pale."

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I don't know."

She shook her head, the morning sun shined on her rich, brown skin.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I crossed the line and revealed too much."

We sat there in silence finishing our drinks. I ate the other roll though my hunger was long gone. Mercedes fished around in her purse and pulled out a medium-sized black box, and handed it to me.

"Here's the cologne. You don't have to pay for it. I've caused enough trouble."

I could have cared less about the cologne.

"Thanks, but I thought it would take longer."

"Inspiration struck me." She stood up and put on her coat. "I have to go. Take care of yourself."

I didn't want her to go, but why did I want her to stay? All this truth she threw at me made me sick. Nobody likes the truth, we like lies and fantasies and stuff that makes us feel good. That's why I became a writer, to help people escape. I reached for her hand and held it.

"My daughter Isabel is dead. But I see her on every street corner. I'll be at the supermarket and suddenly she's beside me in the check out line. I don't know why I walked into your shop or why I'm sitting here now. I just feel like this is where I'm supposed to be."

"I can't take away your pain."

"I'm not asking you to."

"Then what are you asking?"

I let go of her hand.

"I want to know all about you. I want answers. Nobody has read me like you have. I need to know why."

Mercedes sat down again.

"Sam I – "

Suddenly, the door opened and Quinn walked in. Her coat was identical to Mercedes' but it was too large for her small frame, her hair was twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her blue eyes scanned the shop and then she saw us. She walked over to our table and placed her hand on Mercedes' shoulder.

"I can't believe you came here," she said, "You know better."

"Hi Quinn, nice to see you again," I said.

She ignored me.

"Why did you come, Cedes?"

"You know why," Mercedes said, looking up at her, "Stop acting like Mama."

"Do you two always dress alike?" I asked, trying to ease the tension. I saw a small black spider crawling on the sleeve of Quinn's coat. I reached out and tried to flick it off. She backed away from me.

"What are you doing?"

"You have a spider on your coat. I was trying to get it off."

I thought she would freak out and start screaming. She looked down at the spider and touched it gently with her finger.

"He's lost."

"The spider?" I asked.

Quinn stepped away from the table.

"Don't ever touch me."

"Quinn, calm down," Mercedes said.

"He tried to touch me!"

Mercedes got up from the table and handed Quinn her empty cup. Quinn removed the spider from her coat and put it in the cup, whispering to it like it was a baby or something. Mercedes put her arm around her sister.

"He was only touching your coat."

"I don't know him. And you don't know him either."

"I was trying to get rid of the spider," I said.

Quinn glared at me.

"You thought I would be grateful?"

"Most people would be."

"Stop trying to win us over."

"Do you think everybody is out to get you?"

"People always want something and you're no different."

"Then tell me what I want."

"You probably asked her how she does what she does, right? I mean how weird is it to have such a talent? Oh, and now you want to understand and get answers am I right?"

"Quinn, look I –"

She shook her head.

"Everyone is curious in the beginning, then it's too much to handle. All of this is a mistake. I won't have you hurting my sister like the others because you think it's cool to explore her like a freak show."

Mercedes hugged Quinn.

"Yats mlac, I evah uoy."

"I ylno tnaw ot tcetorp uoy." Quinn said.

I had no idea what they were saying. The language they spoke wasn't anything I ever heard before. Then I said something totally ridiculous.

"Why don't all of us spend the day together?"

"Did you hear anything I said?" Quinn asked.

"Every word."

"Sam, we have to go," Mercedes said "I don't think spending any more time together is a good idea."

"Why?"

Quinn tugged on Mercedes' sleeve.

"Come on, Cedes."

"I'm sorry," Mercedes said as they both began to walk away. I jumped up from the table, my heart thumping in my chest like a jackhammer.

"Wait!"

They turned around. Mercedes looked scared.

"What's wrong?"

I was on the verge of tears and I blinked them away before these two strange, beautiful, eccentric, women could see me cry. I said what I needed to say, no matter how stupid or fucked up I may have sounded. I couldn't let them walk away from me.

"I think you two are as lost as I am. I may not have whatever it is that you have, but I know human nature, and I can tell when people are used to running away, don't you ever get tired?"

Quinn pulled Mercedes closer to her side.

"I don't like your energy."

"What would happen if I touched you?"

Before Quinn could answer, Mercedes said:

"We have to go."

"I only want friendship. Nothing more."

For a second I saw a brief flicker of sadness pass through Mercedes' eyes, but then she smiled.

"No more lemons and sand."

"A male reflex that won't happen again. I swear."

Quinn wasn't as receptive.

"We have each other. We don't need you."

She linked arms with Mercedes and refused to meet my gaze. I figured she was insane or maybe OCD? I couldn't tell. Each woman was unlike anyone I had ever met in my life, and I couldn't let either one walk away from me, not now when they were within my reach.

"Quinn, I promise I won't touch you."

"Ruo dnob si dilos," Mercedes said to Quinn, who clung to her arm; her sister's words calmed her down, but she still didn't trust me.

"I don't understand why you want our friendship."

"Because I want the truth even if it's ugly."

Quinn rolled her eyes as if I had said something she heard a million times before.

"Look in the mirror. You don't need us for that."

"Well, I can see you too."

"I'm sure you can. You're going to tell me that I'm beautiful, right? No wait, I'm cold and just need a little warming up, that's always a good one. Whatever it is you think you see is wrong."

She spit out her words like bitter venom because hurt dogs will holler. Mercedes stroked Quinn's back, humming an odd tune that sounded Celtic. Something in how they moved and touched each other was so effortless, and their devotion to each other was clear.

"I see a glass wall," I said, "and you're trapped behind it."

I saw a crack in Quinn's porcelain armor - just a tiny crack that registered in her stormy eyes and the slight twitch of her perfect mouth.

"That's really brilliant," she said, with a sarcastic smirk, "What about my sister?"

I gazed at Mercedes who looked into my eyes, never backing down for a moment. The truth didn't scare her. I thought of how she called me out earlier when I had a brief lusty fantasy about her. It reminded me of when my mother caught me reading under the covers after bedtime, the flashlight shining on my face. I thought I had fooled her but really, she knew me all along.

"I see light."

"You're very original," Quinn said, "But you're not looking hard enough. We're the same."

Her voice lost some of its anger; but she wasn't going to give me credit for my observations; instead it was easier for her to belittle them. Mercedes was light. Quinn was glass. That's how I saw them.

"I want you both to spend one day with me. And if you're convinced I'm an asshole, I'll leave you alone," I said.

They whispered to each other in that strange language. After a few minutes of intense whispering with her sister, Mercedes smiled and said:

"Meet us at Fairy Park on Sunday."

"What time?"

"Noon."

The mysterious and magical Fabray sisters left in a flurry of bright yellow coats, rushing out the door, leaving a scent behind that I hadn't noticed before; it was sweet and spicy like warm gingerbread with under tones of burning glass. I had so many questions - like what language they were speaking and why did they live in another world? I walked out of the coffee shop with my hands stuffed in my pockets, wondering what in God's name I was getting myself into. When I got home, I tried to write, but no words were good enough. For the first time in my life, I had to tell the truth, my version of reality wasn't enough.

ooo

MERCEDES

"You spoke our language," Quinn said as we drove to the supermarket.

"I know."

I kept my eyes on the road and tried to ignore her staring at me. I picked up her scent - sunshine and clean linen.

"Don't get happy. I had to calm you down."

"It's still a part of you."

"I never said it wasn't."

Quinn's scent changed, now it was like rain, I hurt her and I felt awful.

"I'm sorry."

"Take down the mind block," she said

I pulled into the Safeway parking lot and turned off the engine. It always came back to that damn mind block. I loved Quinn, but I needed my privacy.

"No."

"But -"

"We aren't little girls any more. Some of our thoughts shouldn't be shared. Besides you feel everything I do."

Quinn looked away from me and opened the door.

"Come on, we've got a lot of shopping to do."

We walked into the store, but no longer side by side. She raced ahead of me.

"Quinn, wait up!"

I knew she heard me, yet she kept going, as if I was a pesky stranger trying to get her attention. When I caught up to her next to the row of shopping carts just outside of the entrance, I grabbed her elbow.

"You heard me. I know you did. Is this about Sam?"

"No, but I do think it's stupid that we're spending a day with him."

"You didn't think so a few hours ago."

"I know."

I got a shopping cart and pushed it through the automatic door. Quinn followed behind me.

"I miss your thoughts."

I gripped the handle of the shopping cart and made my way toward the produce section.

"Do we need apples?" I asked as I walked up to the piles of shiny Macintosh apples on display.

"I want you to let me back in, why is that so bad?"

I tore a plastic bag off of the dispenser and began filling it with apples.

"It's not bad. Look, just because I spoke our language doesn't mean I want everything the same."

"That language protects us. Mind blocks separates us," Quinn said then paused, "All we have is each other."

"Have you ever wanted more?"

She shook her head.

"No."

"Someday you will," I said.

Quinn looked away from me, suddenly becoming interested in the chipped nail polish on her fingernails.

"I'll go get the milk. We always forget it."

She walked away and this time I didn't try to keep up.

End Notes: Thanks for reading! The language they were speaking was just backwards talk.

"Yats mlac, I evah uoy." - Stay calm. I have you.

"I ylno tnaw ot tcetorp uoy." Quinn said. - I only want to protect you.

"Ruo dnob si dilos," Mercedes said to Quinn - Our bond is solid