Chapter 77

After sitting back and sizing the large man behind the desk up, Sam settled on a plan of attack. Direct and to the point, his father never was one for hesitation and stall tactics. Sam stared into his dad's green eyes, mentally pointing an angry finger at him. "I'm on to you, you know?"

His father looked bored as he turned his attention back to his computer. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sam sat more erect in his chair, biting the inside of his cheek before speaking to keep his temper from flaring. "With this whole Quinn deal thing. You've been playing me from the start. You set things up for me to fail and you never intended to stay true to your word and let Quinn stay free."

Dwight shook his head but never looked in Sam's direction. "On the contrary, Quinn is out of the hospital and your responsibility now. I'm not going to lift a finger to change that."

Huh. He wasn't expecting that response. That didn't seem very Dwight Evans like at all. His first instinct was to challenge his father, to again call him out on his crap, but something told him to hold back and let this all play out.

"Okay," Sam said slowly drawing out the word. "So why bring up my strikes? Do you just get off on seeing me squirm?"

Dwight folded his hands in front of him, placing them on his desk. "I wanted you to know that I know what you've been up to and while I'm not happy about it, like I said before, it's not a surprise," he said looking Sam in the eye.

Wow the man was serious. His father really was giving him a reprieve from his transgressions against their arrangement.

A smile tickled his lips as Sam rose to his feet. Suddenly it felt like a weight had been lifted. He managed to survive his father's wrath, next step facing Quinn. "Now that you've needlessly made my blood pressure skyrocket, I think I'll go."

"Tell me something. Were you serious when you said you were staying with Mercedes?"

And with that question Sam sat back down. How much was he willing to get into with his father on this subject? It was clear what his father wanted, for him to somehow become happily married to a woman he was just starting to know. Every ounce of the supposed help his father had given him with Quinn had been for the benefit of Mercedes. So did he inflate his father's ego even more and tell him that he was going along with the deal not only to help Quinn but also because he now understood that taking the time to get reacquainted with his wife was important as well?

"Yes. Despite what you might think, I honor my commitments." There was a slight twitch in his chest as he admitted his intentions to his father. Before he would experience a tightness, like his chest was constricting around his organs, so this far milder reaction felt like progress.

"So you're only staying for the sake of the deal? I thought maybe…" Dwight's words trailed off as he picked up a photo on his desk and looked at it. Sam strained to see which picture it was from his chair, but he was at the wrong angle.

"You thought what?" Sam asked, still contorting his body to see the image in the frame his father held.

His father set the frame back in its spot and Sam was left unsatisfied. "Never mind," said Dwight. "Clearly I'm wrong."

"You don't have to worry about me abandoning her, like I said, I know my responsibilities, and despite what I've said all these weeks, my vows do mean something to me, even if I don't remember making them." That was as close as he could get to telling his father he was right without wounding his pride.

"That's good to hear," his father replied with a definitive nod that confirmed his approval. "I'm starting to see glimpses of the man you were before the accident."

"The one everyone seemed to like better." Sam mumbled under his breath.

"Maturity suited you," said his father catching the remark.

"Just because I'm not doing the things you want doesn't mean I'm immature. A lot has been thrown at me since I woke up, and at first I was a little shaky, but I am dealing with it all now. I regret the way I handled a few things, a few people, but I am making all of that right now."

"I hope letting that loon out of her cage was one of your regrets."

"Actually no. I think with that I did the right thing. I wish I had known all the facts before I went upstate to get her, but I still believe she didn't need to be so far away to get treatment. She can get help right here in Lima, close to Beth and me. And if wanting to do right by my child's mother and caring about her health makes me immature, so be it. I'll take it, because I know in my heart that it's the right thing. Just like I know taking the time to get to know my wife is right as well."

"It's good to have you back son," Dwight said extending his hand.

Sam grabbed his father's hand and shook it. "Thanks. And thanks for breakfast, it was nice," he said loosening his grip on his father's hand, but Dwight held tighter, pulling him forward a bit.

"Breakfast was nice and I know you need to go but one more thing, call it a birthday present," he said finally releasing Sam's hand. "So here it goes, you're free."

"I'm free?" Sam asked feeling more confused than when he first came out of the coma. His father had been acting strangely all morning. "What does that mean?"

"That means I'm going to try to follow your mother's example and stay out of your life. No meddling, no forcing your hand, I'm leaving you alone."

Sam clutched his chest like he was having a heart attack, a smile slowly growing on his face. "What was that? I must be hearing things, because it sounds like you just said you're butting out of my business."

"That's right. I am. And as a show of good faith I'm letting you out of our deal. You can do whatever the hell you want about Quinn and Mercedes. I won't interfere."

Sam was practically speechless as he sunk back into his chair. "Wow," was the only word he could form as he continued to stare at the man who looked like his dad but was acting nothing like him this morning.

He was free. The words washed over him like an ocean wave, soaking in slowly as he considered just what this change could mean to his life.

The stars above were so bright it was almost as if he could reach up and touch them, capture their brilliant light in the palm of his hand. Sam loved nights like this, the crisp cold air, and a clear sky. He clasped his hands behind his head as he reclined along the hood of his car, smiling as he stared heavenward. Darkness overtook him eclipsing the stars leaving a view just as heavenly in its wake. She was a far better sight than anything he could find hovering in the atmosphere, her beauty transfixed him from the first day he'd met her and nothing had changed since.

"I'm cold," she stated with a pout, her blonde hair falling around his face as she climbed on top of his body. Sam smiled at the new closeness, wrapping his arms around her and holding her there in case she contemplated shifting away.

"We can go if you'd like," he suggested as he rubbed his nose against hers.

She let out a throaty giggle that warmed Sam from the inside out, making him tingle in all the right places. He loved her voice, whether she were speaking, laughing, or singing.

"Not yet," she replied as she tucked her hands inside his letterman jacket attempting to keep warm. "I love looking at the stars with you. Can you tell me another story about the constellations?"

He sighed, kissing her lips gently. "Maybe later, you're sort of clouding my mind being so close."

"I can move," she said starting to sit up.

Sam locked his hands behind the small of her back keeping her pressed along the length of him.

"Don't you dare," he said in a voice that didn't quite sound like his own.

Quinn's eyes narrowed as they searched his face, then she flicked her tongue along her bottom lip, as her gaze settled on his own mouth. Something so small was sexy as hell and Sam could never resist anything Quinn. Their lips met and their tongues tangled just as they had for most of their night under the stars. It seemed that they could only go minutes without touching each other, not that Sam was complaining, he loved Quinn's newfound boldness. He had longed for the day when Quinn would stop being so shy and just freely kiss him, touch him, love him. Well two out of three wasn't bad, she was certainly free with the touches and the kisses, the love, not so much, but that would come later, Sam was sure of it.

"Still cold?" he asked running his hands under her coat and her shirt to bask in the surprising warmth of her smooth skin.

She pressed herself into him grinding her hips into his, reaching for a new level of closeness that she had never attempted before. Sam shifted bringing his thigh between her parted legs to stroke her center with gentle pressure. Quinn moaned against his mouth kissing him hard, winding her hands in his hair. Silently Sam cursed himself for choosing a two seater car for his birthday present, because a backseat would have been the answer to his prayers at the moment. There was no way they were going to have their first time on the hood of his car on a side road in the old woods. Quinn deserved far better than that, not that the backseat was ideal either, but at least they could push the limits in relative privacy. He felt her fingertips teasing up his shirt, tickling his skin, and Sam arched up aiding her in her explorations. The cold didn't bother him, Sam loved the feel of icy prickles against his skin, so he thought nothing of leaning up and pulling off his jacket, exposing most of his chest along the way. Hesitating for a moment Quinn let her eyes rake over his torso before leaning down covering him with a mass of hair to plant kisses all over his chest. Biting and kissing, leaving her mark on his body, Sam swore he had died and gone to heaven that night, his precious Quinn had taken control and was doing things that Sam only fantasized about.

"I wish we could stay out here all night," she murmured against his neck, the words causing a vibration all the way to the lower parts of his anatomy.

"I think we might freeze to death, but come spring I say we revisit that idea." Sam smiled thinking about Quinn cuddled next to him in the warm spring breeze, the oranges of the setting sun, fading into the darkness of the night sky.

"I wish time would stand still because everything is so perfect right now. Graduation will be here before we know it and we won't have any more nights like this." Her voice was sad, though a small smile was on her face.

"The good thing about the stars is that they sort of follow you everywhere," said Sam kissing her temple, small measure to make her smile wider. "We can do this no matter where we are."

She shook her head, her silky hair tickling his face and surrounding him with her fresh citrusy scent. "But it won't be the same. I'll be in New York getting vocal training, focusing on my career and you'll be at college getting ready to be a corporate mogul one day."

Sam turned his nose up at the idea. He didn't like thinking about himself so far into the future, chained to a desk at D&E, having to live under his father's thumb not only at home but also at work. "There are colleges in New York," Sam said softly.

She ran a few fingers through his bangs. "I know, but isn't your dad still pushing Stanford."

"He's pushing but that doesn't mean I'm going. Besides the fact that physics is kicking my ass this semester and bringing my GPA down with it, I don't really like the thought of being across the country from you. In fact, there's no way I'm doing that. I don't give a damn what my father thinks."

"Sam, you know he has your whole life mapped out and I don't think he's going to just let you change course mid…"

"Screw him!" he said far louder than he intended. "You mean more to me than any of my father's dreams for me. Who says I want to be head of D&E anyway? I might want to play in the NBA or join the circus, or better yet spend the rest of my life loving you."

"Sam…" she said looking down a blush on her cheeks so bright that even the low light of the moon couldn't hide it.

"I mean it Quinn," said Sam sliding down the hood to get to her eye level. He cupped her chin in his hand. "I love spending time with you. You're the best part of my life, everything got better once I met you and I'm not willing to let that go, not for my father, not because we're graduating, not for anything. I love you so much."

Her eyes enlarged at his words and then a smile slowly spread on her face, starting at her mouth and settling in those endless green eyes as his words set in. Sam's heart raced as he watched her awaiting any response. He had put his heart out there, more than he'd ever done before and he was a little nervous that he had gone too far and scared her off.

"I'm so lucky," she said on a whisper just before her lips touched his. The kiss quickly escalated from sweet and gentle to eager hungry caresses against his mouth. Quinn hadn't said she loved him in return, but Sam felt it throughout his whole body as she continued to kiss him.

"Marry me," he said when he pulled away to look at her, both hands tangled in her hair, his forehead pressed against hers. The air felt no longer cold, as their ragged breaths warmed the little space between them.

"Sam," she said with a sigh in her voice, subtly retreating even as her arms pressed him closer to her body. That was his Quinn such a contradiction of a girl, holding him close, and then pushing him away in the same beat. "That's so sweet." She squeezed her eyes shut, like she was cherishing the flavor of something good, like vanilla ice cream, or a juicy ripe peach.

Sam couldn't stand not to touch her, even as they were heart pounding close, so he ran his thumb along the curve of her lower lip, imagining that he was that something sweet she craved.

"I'm not being sweet. I mean it. Marry me Quinn and we can have a great life together and be free of this crappy little town."

He'd said it before on more than one occasion usually when he was especially intoxicated by her beauty or when she'd smile at him and the whole room would disappear, but this time was different, Sam could feel it. Every cell in his body was suddenly alive with the knowledge that he was lying here with his future wife.

Startling Sam she abruptly sat up, rubbing her arms to ward off the cold that had quickly rushed back around them. "We're so young. We have our whole lives ahead of us and a life in the music business is hard and erratic and I'll be traveling without a home base you can't have a marriage like that."

"Who says?" he asked putting on his discarded jacket as he sat upright next to her. "Home to me is anywhere you are. Don't you get it Quinn?" He turned her by the shoulders to face him. "When I'm with you I feel free like I could just lift off and float into space, grab a star and swing from it, you make me feel like anything is possible, like it's okay to dream, to want more than what my family has planned for me, like there's hope."

"Sam there is hope." Her words felt like cotton, her voice so tender, that Sam leaned in as if she had touched him. "You can dream and be anything you want you don't need me to do it."

"I do need you Quinn." He threaded his fingers through hers. "Without you it's like the lights go out and the whole world is dark and gray just having you in my life makes everything brighter." Sam bowed his head, and stared at the reflection of the moon in the dark gloss finish of his car. "I know that must sound so corny…"

"No," she interrupted squeezing his hand a little tighter. "I get it. I feel that way when I sing. Like I'm standing in the middle of a rainbow when before everything was gray."

Sam smiled though inside he was slightly deflated. He wanted to be the one bringing that color into her life, the way she did for him, so he couldn't help but be disappointed that music was her way to see the rainbow. But quickly he shook those thoughts off and focused on the positives, like the fact that she hadn't run screaming into the woods, or that she hadn't laughed at him for his sappy speech, and most importantly that she hadn't turned down his proposal.

Sam's heart lifted and he found the courage to look into her eyes once more. She took his breath away. Tears were caught in the fringe of her lashes and her face was a deep salmon. Nothing would make him leave her. This was the view he wanted for the rest of his life, better than any star in the sky, just Quinn, looking at him the way she was now, with a hint of a smile and truth in her eyes. She knew they were meant to be too.

"I don't see why we can't feel that way all the time, so free and happy. Let's be in that rainbow together. Marry me."

They actually had a shot at all of that now. No parental influence, no beckoning call of the stage, Quinn was here in Lima wanting to be with him. Finally ten years later everything was perfect. Except he was married and she might be crazy.

"Don't look at me like I'm Cerberus at the gates of hell shaking my three heads," said Dwight waving his hand in front of his face.

Sam pulled himself out of his trance and tried to focus on his father, forcibly blocking his mind from wandering back to Quinn and all that they were now free to be.

"It's just not like you to be so…" He stumbled trying to find the word, but none came to him that could adequately describe the unbelievable gesture his father had made. The word 'reasonable" came to mind but he dared not say it, fearing he'd insult his father with that comment. So he changed the subject. "I think I owe Beiste a bouquet of flowers."

"Shannon Beiste had nothing to do with this," his father scoffed ever the grumpy old man, but the twinkle in his eyes was back, and Sam knew Shannon Beiste was somehow the instrument of this change in his father. "I saw the error of my ways, and I'm big enough to admit that I was wrong."

"Two bouquets." Sam gripped the wood armrest of the chair, watching his fingers curl around the dark wood, an exercise in controlling his outward emotions. He was so close to running over to his dad and hugging him, squeezing him within an inch of his life, but that could never happen. That wasn't who they were, and he couldn't risk letting his father see him so exposed. Dwight liked to ferret out weakness and use it as weapons. Sam didn't want to give his father any more ammunition, so he tried to keep his expressions of joy to a minimum. "I don't know what she's doing to you, but I hope she never stops. Don't let go of that one dad."

"We're just friends."

"Right," he said, not believing his father. "Then just make sure she's a friend you keep. Don't go all Evans on her and screw things up."

"I have no intention of screwing anything up. Beiste's a fine woman and I would never hurt her. I work very hard to keep her out of the other aspects of my life. That's why when Mercedes tried to blackmail me last night threatening to tell Beiste about the deal I made with you. I had to cave to her demands, well almost."

"What demands?" Sam asked the hairs on his neck inexplicably standing on end. He ran his hand over the back of neck to push down those offending follicles.

"I'm sticking to my word and staying out of things, but Sam I hope you realize that Mercedes isn't as sweet and innocent as she seems." Why did that sound like a warning?

"I know she's spunky," said Sam attempting to downplay the feeling of dread that suddenly overtook his body. "I've experienced her fire first hand."

"I'm not talking about spunk. The girl is smart and conniving. She'll do anything to get what she wants. She tried to take D&E for millions."

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. "I thought you liked Mercedes."

"I do, but I never let myself lose sight of who she is and what she's capable of. She can be a little dangerous when the things she loves are threatened."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He heard that before from a number of people but never from someone he knew was in Mercedes' camp and as far as Sam could tell his father was firmly placed on Mercedes' side.

"It means that you're an Evans and what was missing in your marriage to Brittany was very much a part of your marriage to Mercedes. There's more to her than meets the eye."

If he ever he had heard a cryptic message it was that one. Why would his father bring up Brittany after all these years? Sure his marriage didn't seem too long ago in his mind, but for everyone else they had been divorced for a good while. As far as Sam could tell Brittany was nothing like Mercedes. Brittany was sweetness, and soft edges, tight laced morals and rigid appearances. Basically she was the good girl next door, the kind of woman that never should have been interested in him, but somehow always was. She used to call him her walk on the wild side, her adrenaline rush, Sam should have known things were doomed just from those admissions. Good girls can only take a thrill ride for so long before getting dizzy and begging to be let off. Mercedes, while equally sweet, had something darker about her that Sam couldn't yet place. He was still figuring her out, but from what he learned so far, Mercedes liked thrill rides, in fact she might offer up a few thrills of her own. As far as he could tell there were very few connections between his two wives.

"Okay I'll bite," Sam conceded since he was clueless to where his father was going with this conversation. "What does my marriage to Mercedes have that my marriage to Brittany didn't?"

"That's what's stumping you son? I thought you would have picked up on that instantly."

"Well I fell on my head, things are fuzzy." That was the excuse he kept in his back pocket just for times like this one.

"Uh huh. The way I see it. You and Brittany were playing house."

"I loved her," Sam interjected.

"Yes I know," Dwight continued. "But that didn't change the fact that your marriage was never real and could never be real because Brittany loved Santana."

"This again? I do remember this part of my history very well." Too well, it still left him a bit raw to think about his wife never really loving him. "So basically you're going to tell me yet again that Mercedes is different than Brittany or even Quinn, because Mercedes actually loves me right?"

"Not exactly, but now that you bring that point up maybe we should address it."

"No we should not. Look dad, I get it. Mercedes and I had something special before. But right now, I'm not sure what's going on with us. Though I'm not opposed to finding out more about her anymore. Message received on that one."

"Good."

"But I also need you to understand that the way I feel about Quinn is very real to me. I'm not living in a fantasy or even the past. Right here and now, I know I love Quinn and dad, you may not believe this, but she loves me too."

"I do believe it son. I know Quinn has really strong feelings for you whether I like it or not."

"And you still promise to stay out of all this?"

"Yes I give you my word. If you want to destroy your life and hitch your wagon to an unstable woman that can only make a concrete decision about top or bottom, then so be it."

"Dad!" Sam yelled, his face burning with anger. He'd had it with all the jokes about Quinn's sexual behavior.

"I'm sorry son," said Dwight struggling to keep straight face as he held up his hand in surrender. "It was reflex. Give me time to let go of old habits."

"She's Beth's mom."

"I know," his father sighed.

"You can't talk about her like that. What if Beth heard you?"

"I'll do better," Dwight said solemnly.

"I'm going to hold you to it, because Quinn is a part of our lives now, and you need to accept that."

"Don't push it Sam. Civil might be all I can manage."

"Fair enough. I better go," he said reluctantly gathering himself to stand. It had been nice spending time with his father. Oddly enough, he had missed the old man since most of his time was now spent with Beiste.

"Master Sam, Daley has pulled the car around front, if you are ready to depart," stated Figgins at the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Perfect timing," Sam muttered, not surprised that Figgins had appeared when he did. He stood, turning to face his father, hand outstretched. "Have a safe flight back to Nashville.

Dwight rose to his feet but didn't take Sam's hand. "I'll take you where you need to go son. I feel like this morning has raced by and I'm not ready for it to end yet."

Sam was taken aback by such a heartfelt admission from his father. "You want to drive? You never drive."

"That's not true. Beiste and I like to take Sunday drives through the country. She finds it relaxing."

"It's like you're a totally different man. You look like Dwight Evans, but your soft creamy center is all exposed."

"My soft creamy center?" asked Dwight. There was that sparkle in his father's eyes again, but this time Sam felt a surge because he was the one that had put it there.

"Yeah that place inside you that I thought was filled with coal." Sam pointed at his father's rounded belly. "Who knew you had a heart?"

"Are you quite done?" asked Dwight walking past Sam to the door. "Get your coat and let's go."

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and followed his father out of the room, a huge smile plastered on his face.