Chapter 76

It felt good getting that off his chest, telling his father exactly what he thought of all that had gone down between them the past few weeks. He was starting to feel like himself again, his own man, maybe turning 29 would actually be the start of something good a new beginning where he was in control of his own life. Sam laughed lightly to himself, he was getting a bit crazy there with those thoughts, his father wasn't just going to let him go off and do his own thing, that certainly wasn't Dwight Evans' style.

After packing a few items in a leather duffel bag, informing Daley that he would require his services soon, and getting Cook to whip him up some eggs, Sam finally felt ready to face his father again. Almost ready, alone in the kitchen, his eggs eaten and his hot tea, now cool, Sam swung his legs back and forth as he sat at the counter just as he used to do when he was a little boy. The television that was mounted on a high wall across the kitchen was dark, yet still it beckoned. Just a quick peek, no one would ever know and he really missed the noisy buzz of daytime TV. Saturday morning meant not much in the way of news programming, but there were always cartoons, even as an adult the Cartoon Network still held a thrill, though now his tastes were less Tom & Jerry and more anime, but this morning he was willing to take anything he could get. Looking around the kitchen to make sure no one had managed to pop in unannounced Sam made his way over to the television, reaching up to hit the power button. To his surprise, nothing happened once he hit it, so he began looking behind the television to see if it was plugged in.

"Safety feature," a voice said behind him. A voice that Sam instinctively knew, had always known.

He turned with an uncertain smile to face Figgins who was holding a remote in his hand.

"I couldn't get the thing to turn on," Sam stated, feeling rather stupid now that he saw Figgins tapping the remote with his thumb.

"Yes sir. That's what I meant by safety features. I have it set so it will only power on via the remote, which I keep hidden."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"Cook thought she had the authority to turn the station when I had left the room."

"Let me guess it was during your soap?" Sam asked, his smile more genuine this time. Figgins had been addicted to daytime soap operas since as long as he could remember. For two hours weekday afternoons, the whole house knew not to disturb the man as he watched his shows.

"Indeed. So now I keep control of things with safety features. Good thing too since you were about to violate your doctors' orders."

"I was only going to watch cartoons, not CNN." Sam stared at his feet, feeling like a child that had been caught misbehaving.

"We have dvds for that. Hours of recordings of your favorite shows and movies that we played while you were in your coma. All you needed was to ask."

"I didn't think I needed to ask permission to turn on the TV in my own house," Sam grumbled.

"Master Sam you have not been gone that long and your memory has not been impaired to the extent where you don't know the rules of this house."

"I know, I know, our house, your kitchen," Sam said in an almost robotic tone, repeating back the words he had been forced to recite numerous times throughout his youth.

"Exactly. Now sir, what can I help you with? Would you like those dvds?"

"No that's okay. I have to get going anyway. Daley is driving me to see Quinn."

Sam could have sworn a look of alarm had crossed Figgins' face, but that was impossible since his expression, like his voice, never altered. "Fine Master Sam, but be sure to alert your father of your plans before you go. I'm sure he'd like to speak with you before he flies back to Nashville."

"I'll do that Figgins," Sam agreed. "And Figgins you can stop calling me Master. I'm not a child anymore."

Figgins shot Sam a look which for him was the equivalent of words. With a raise of his eyebrow and a tilt of his head he told Sam his answer. Not a chance. Sam was probably doomed to be called "Master" by the man for the rest of this life. Almost wanting to argue and point out that he in fact was a father now and that the title was inappropriate, but he wasn't afforded the chance. The man had gone as silently as he appeared.

His father had moved from the sunroom to his study when Sam finally tracked him down, following the sound of him barking orders at some poor D&E employee. The office had been cleaned up since the night before, the papers had been picked up off the floor, and any evidence of his alcohol consumption had been removed. Sam said a silent thank you to Figgins. The man was always a model of efficiency.

Sam cleared his throat as he entered the room, causing his father to look up from whatever he was studying on his desk. He gestured to the chair across from him and Sam followed the direction and took a seat. Silence swallowed them as Sam glanced around the room trying to squash the rising memories of his conversation with Quinn from the night before. His eyes settled on his father, the only safe resting place in a room now filled with haunting images of Quinn on her knees and Beth icy blue. Something strange had definitely come over the man as he sat behind his desk, hands in his lap staring at Sam, with a smile on his face. Never in his life had Sam seen his father with such an expression for such a long period of time.

"I can't take anymore," Sam finally said as he stared back at his father. "Why are you smiling? Was your milk spiked?"

"I don't need to be liquored up to be happy to be with my son."

"I told you off earlier and you're never happy when on the subject of Quinn. What gives?" Sam narrowed his eyes, his suspicions growing by the second. His father had to be up to something.

"This is not about Quinn. I don't give a rat's ass about that girl. I'm happy because it has been abundantly clear this morning that you, my son, are on the mend."

Sam scratched at his brow. "Well yeah, physical therapy, and copious amounts of scotch will do that."

"Don't think I didn't see what you did to my office. Raided my liquor stash, trashed the place."

So much for Figgins being efficient, Sam guessed the old man didn't clean things up fast enough to prevent his father from seeing the mess.

"And still you're smiling. Are you on some sort of medication that I don't know about?"

Sam thought about the ipad in his duffel bag and all the answers it held. Maybe something on it explained his father's strange behavior, maybe chronicling some illness that had impaired him physically and mentally and this morning he was simply witnessing the effects of that.

Dwight smiled on. "You were put through hell last night finding out about what Quinn did to Beth and yet here you are still standing strong having breakfast with me. I'm proud of you son."

"I can't take all the credit for my mental state. If it weren't for Mercedes last night I probably would be in a ditch somewhere curled up around a bottle of scotch."

First Kali picking him up and talking him down, then Mercedes and her special brand of comfort, between the two women who had given him the most grief since he had come out of the coma, Sam had managed to make it through last night and finding out what happened to Beth. Without them things probably would not have ended so well.

"Now we're getting to it. You went to see Mercedes last night." His father's smile widened and a chill went down Sam's spine. What the hell was going on with his dad?

"No I went to see Beth, but Mercedes was there, since that is where she lives."

"And?" Dwight rubbed his hands together almost as if in anticipation, of what Sam hadn't a clue.

Sam blinked twice, still unsure about what was happening. "Dad you're creeping me out. You're way too interested in this."

"I'm not allowed to care about my son and my granddaughter? It has been weighing on me for weeks, wondering how you would handle this terrible news. I'm not totally unfeeling Sam, despite what you'd like to believe."

"I know that. I'm sorry." Maybe he was the one overacting. His father, like the rest of his family had been through a long ordeal while he was sick and this was probably just his father readjusting to having his son back. "I guess I'm just not used to you being so attentive to me. Something else that changed in the last three years?"

He nodded. "We had come to a crossroads in our relationship, yes. You'll know all once you explore those files."

"Right my life in the palm of my hands," he said thinking about the ipad in his bag again. Soon he would turn it on and read all about his life.

"So back to Beth. You went to spend time with her and then what?"

"Uh yeah," Sam paused a moment to figure out just how much he wanted to reveal to his dad. Not much if were honest. The less ammunition his father had to use against him the better. "So it was late and I didn't want to disturb Daley to pick me up so I just stayed over."

"What was that?" asked Dwight cupping a hand over his ear as if he were hard of hearing

"I stayed at the house." Sam repeated a little louder.

"With Mercedes?"

"With Beth," Sam clarified. Dwight was angling for a magical reunion between him and Mercedes but Sam just couldn't bring himself to give his dad the satisfaction of knowing that the night might have ended how he hoped.

"But Mercedes was there?" Dwight asked still stuck on the subject.

"Yes dad. We established this already. Mercedes lives at the house with Beth," he said enunciating every word.

"Stop talking so slowly. I'm not stupid. I just want you to spit out what you're hiding."

"I'm not hiding anything." Sam huffed tugging on a chunk of his hair. "I had planned to see Beth for a bit last night then head over to the Beacon and deal with Quinn."

"But…"

Sam rolled his eyes. His father wasn't about to let this go, "But it was late and I slept over, so I'm going to go see Quinn now and there you have it." Simple and to the point, that's all his dad needed to know.

"I see," said Dwight pursing his lips. "Does your wife know you plan on spending your birthday with another woman?"

His father was giving him that judging look and again for some reason Sam felt compelled to explain. He was either a dutiful son or an idiot, Sam wasn't sure which.

"Come on dad it's not like that. I need to talk to Quinn about Beth and where we go from here. It's not like we're going to be having cake and ice cream."

Rewind the clock and that's exactly how Sam had planned to spend his birthday. One last night with Quinn before he officially started to adhere to his father's wishes and turn some attention to his marriage. He imagined them at the Beacon in his suite, eating cake and sipping champagne. They would be in that huge bed, over the covers, food spread out at their feet, shoulders touching, thighs grazing. Her hair would fall over her shoulders and tickle his face every time she laughed. She would be wearing his shirt, top two buttons undone, bare legs, looking absolutely gorgeous. Sam would have been using all his powers of control not to touch her, wanting to respect her decision not to be physically involved with him while he was still married. She didn't want them to be cheaters and Sam would begrudgingly go along with it and not bother to tell her that by just being alone in the suite together they were in fact cheating. It would have been his last night of freedom, and his birthday too, so he would have indulged in all his fantasies, including staring into Quinn's green eyes while the stars peeked through the balcony window. But none of that happened and he had spent the night in a closet looking into eyes that were a far different shade.

"That didn't answer my question. I think you're avoiding Sam."

"Mercedes knows that I have things to work out with Quinn and she's fine with it. She has my back one hundred percent." Mercedes had told him in so many ways that she was here for him and on his side.

"What makes you so sure?" Dwight asked typing on his keyboard. "Finding out you got Quinn released must have sent her off the deep end."

Sam shivered a little as he recalled the crazed look in Mercedes' eyes when she revealed she had seen that photo him with Quinn. He had never seen her look so wrecked.

"Quit pretending that you don't already have the intel. You know Mercedes went off about Quinn being back in Lima."

"I was hoping to hear it from you and not some employee."

"If you're worried about me sticking to the terms of our arrangement - don't be." Gulping down the lump in his throat, Sam avoided his father's eyes. "Mercedes and I are solid and like I said we're sticking it out for the next nine months." Although she had yet to fully consent to any such agreement, Sam had to believe that Mercedes ultimately would.

"Just going through the motions then? Nothing more?" His father didn't seem convinced in the least.

It was as if he could see the residue of sleeping with Mercedes all over Sam's body, like he was equipped with his own black light and he could see all the evidence not revealed to the naked eye. Sam was unnerved, feeling somehow exposed in front of his father. Was it that obvious that he had gotten laid? Okay that was rude, even in his mind. He didn't see what happened between him and Mercedes as simply an itch being scratched. It was more than that, but how much more he wasn't sure yet.

"God dad! I don't know what the future holds. Look I get it now. You wanted me to realize that I have a wife and a child and more going on with my life than just Quinn. I understand that now and I'm doing the right thing, stepping up, and I plan on being present and engaged in their lives. Happy now!"

"Only if you're happy son," said Dwight with an unusual sparkle in his eyes and a chuckle coating his words.

"Now you're just trying to piss me off. You know this is not what I wanted."

"You wanted fairy tales and flowers and lots of sex with Quinn." The words rolled off his tongue like he was talking about the closing prices on the NASDAQ instead of sex. It was just like his father to cheapen his heart's desire, to diminish all he wanted to a mere sarcastic quip.

Sam's top lip curled up in distaste. "You're not going there."

Of course his father was going there. Dwight Evans had never been shy about talking about sex, most of Sam's life his father had been very candid, never sugar coating any of the realities of life, but somehow having his dad discuss his sex life over cake and milk was very unsettling. For a moment Sam longed for a less open dad, one that blushed when discussing sexual exploits and stammered when he broached the subject of hotel trysts.

"How could I not with that photo staring me in the face? It is physical proof that you cheated on your wife and broke our agreement. The way I see it, you and Quinn should be having your massive heart to heart through the safety glass at the psychiatric ward. In fact, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't have her locked up right now."

Dwight banged his fist on the desk but he didn't seem truly agitated so Sam took it as an opportunity to once again plead his case.

"While I admit to a momentary lapse in judgment," Sam started calmly. "I needed to spend some time with Quinn, it killed me to be separated from her for so long." He took a deep breath before continuing. "But I most definitely didn't betray you or my wife. Nothing happened between Quinn and I, we just talked. And before you open your mouth, yes it is the truth. Quinn and I talked, she's accepted that I need to spend this time with Mercedes and she's fine with it."

"Oh she's fine with you being with your wife. How big of her," said Dwight, rolling his eyes. Since when did his dad roll his eyes?

"Dad what the hell is going on with you this morning? I feel like you're channeling mom or something."

"What can I say?" he shrugged and half smiled. "The women in my life have rubbed off on me."

"Quit it would you? The last thing I need is another version of mom in my life." Sam shuddered at the idea.

"I'm just happy to hear that you're on the right track."

"AKA the track you want me on," Sam countered.

Dwight fanned his hand in the air. "Semantics. We both want the same thing, to see you happy."

"If you say so."

"Look Sam I know you think I'm this evil tyrant."

"More like know it," Sam said under his breath.

"But I'm not. Nothing I've done is out of malice. I care about you."

"And you want to control me." Whether it is money or people, his father always kept a tight hold on all aspects of his life.

"I don't want to see you hurt." Dwight's voice softened. "I'm a father, it comes with the job."

Sam relaxed at his dad's words. As much as he wanted to hold a grudge against the man, he couldn't, he knew his father loved him even if he had a hard time showing it. Finding out he was a father was starting to make him see his own dad in a different light.

"I know you care dad. I just wish you'd let me live my life in my own way."

Dwight sighed heavily. "Take a look at this," he said turning his monitor toward Sam. A video started to play without sound. It was footage of the nursery last night when he was with Quinn and Beth. "This is why I'm concerned."

Sam should have known his father would have the place wired. Dwight Evans was a man big on security and protecting his assets. Heat flushed his face as he remembered what he and Quinn had discussed in that nursery, all the feelings they revealed to each other and the promises they made for the future. His father had been witness to them all.

"I took a risk letting Quinn near Beth I know, but it will never happen again." Sam had a pretty good idea that his father's concerns were less about Beth and more about what happened between him and Quinn.

"Do you need me to turn the sound on? Because this has nothing to do with Beth."

Sam ran his hands down his face, exhaling sharply. "I was there last night, I don't need a replay."

"The way I see it, going to the hotel with Quinn was strike one, this romp in the nursery was strike two…"

"So I have one strike left," Sam added quickly.

"Actually you don't."

"You've only named two instances…"

"Mercedes is the third."

"Mercedes?" Sam was relieved. He was still in the clear. "I told you she and I are good."

"That's what you'd like me to believe but you blatantly disregarded the terms of our agreement when you told Mercedes about it all."

Sam's mouth slacked open. "Do you have this whole house bugged?"

"The nursery has a nanny cam you idiot, and you know good and well the amount of security I have in place, but no there's no taped conversation of you telling Mercedes about our deal. I got the info straight from the source."

"Meaning?" he asked raising both his eyebrows.

"Mercedes told me."

What the hell was wrong with the women in his life? They both seemed to lack the inherent ability to keep their mouths shut. First Quinn tells Mercedes about their promises for the future, and now Mercedes runs to his dad about the deal. It had to be a prank. His luck couldn't be this bad.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Mercedes would never betray my confidence."

"That sure of her are you?" Dwight asked clearly amused. "I'll have you know Mercedes came to me last night and told me that you asked her to play house with her in order to keep Quinn free."

"Why would she do that? I trusted her." Despite his better judgment, ignoring all the lies he caught her in, still he trusted her. Even as everything was set to blow up in his face, he still didn't doubt the faith he had placed in her.

"Mercedes was none too pleased with me. Threatened to tell Beiste what I'd been up to. I can't believe she had the nerve to try to blackmail me."

A small smile tickled Sam's lips, as pissed as he was, he couldn't help but admire Mercedes' spirit and the way she dealt with his father. That feeling quickly passed as he let it settle that Mercedes had ratted him out. "You can't send Quinn back," he said in a panic when it fully hit him what exactly having three strikes meant. "None of this is her fault. I'm the one that screwed up."

"Everything you've done. I anticipated. You're quite predictable. You never could resist a beautiful woman, especially not Quinn Fabray, you're sucker for a damsel in distress, so of course you let Quinn near Beth, and you don't like lying to your wife, so I knew you would spill your guts eventually."

Sam looked over at his father, sitting tall and proud behind his desk, gone was the disconcerting grin from earlier. Finally like the verse to a favorite poem memorized and easily recited, the real Dwight Evans appeared with a furrowed brow and his mouth stretched into a tight, straight line. It was scary yet comforting at once. This was the man he had grown up with, moody, stern, and domineering, smiles reserved for sealing deals or ensnaring wives. This was the father Sam could handle, just as soon as he figured out a plan to get him out of this mess.