A/N: Happy Juneteenth. Thanks again for the continual love and support. Remember I own nothing and please continue to forgive all my mistakes. It takes a day to get a chapter out to you guys because I am so out of practice. Hope you enjoy the latest installment in what the heck is Sam doing LOL...He needs help because I am even confused on his master plan...

Four

Sam

"Put me on the camera, son. I want to see my beautiful granddaughter," his father says even though Sam wants to do the opposite, he considers doing it. Anybody else would probably think it's cute that a grandfather wants to see his granddaughter, but it does not make me feel good on the inside, instead it pisses me off.

"Ok, but I have to hang up. I'll call you back in a few minutes." I use this time when we are off the phone to get Jessica ready for her bath. I make sure to be quick because my baby girl has peed and done number two on me more times than I can count. Everybody said it was just boys who did this unexpectedly, but they hadn't held a baby girl in their arms when water was running. It was something about the sound that made my baby girl pee.

After I had put her baby bath seat in the tub and surrounded her with her toys to keep her occupied, I called my father on FaceTime. Seeing his face makes me realize that he doesn't look good. He's only fifty-one but looks about ten years older.

Unable to look at him any longer, I turn the camera around so he can see Jessica's face. The only time they have seen each other face to face is when I brought her to Nashville so he could meet his grandchild. Since then he's only seen her through FaceTime calls. He acts like he wants to see us both, not that he would ever make the effort to take the two hour plane ride or drive eight hours from Nashville to Cleveland.

When he finishes using baby talk with Jessica (which I detest), he asks to speak with me. I stand up and go stand to the other side of the room while Jessica plays safely in the tub.

"Jessie's gotten so big since I last saw her," he says as soon as he sees my face.

"She has. It is like she reaches a new milestone every day. You really should come and see her," I say, determined to be the better person.

"How about you two could come on down for a few days. I really miss you both." I just sigh and roll my eyes to let him know what I think about him missing us. "I really do miss you son and that little angel of yours. You know that I'd come to you if I could, but—"

"But…what does your therapist say," I say before I could hear his excuse for the thousandth time.

"Therapy is working, but it's still hard for me, son. Now since I am unable to come to you, you can bring that little bit of sunshine with you to me. My grandbaby needs her entire family, and I'm the only grandparent she knows," he reminds me. Unfortunately for all of us, what he is saying is true. My father hasn't left his house in over a decade, and he is the only parent I have. Even though he wasn't much of a parent after my mother left, I had to raise myself and take on roles that no young boy should have to, he never physically abandoned me.

"I don't know, dad," I say without making any promises, but knowing my conscience I most likely will go not for me or for him but for Jessica.

"Now what's going on in your life? Are you dating anyone? Remember what I told you, that sweet little angel needs a mother. She's only a baby now, but she's going to need a woman around when she gets older."

"Remind me how well that worked out for you when you tried it with my mother." I don't regret my words despite the pained look on his face.

"You know that I was the reason she left us. Your mom—"

"That woman was not my mother. If she truly was, she wouldn't have just abandoned me like she did." I do my best to keep my voice level low and emotionless so that I don't upset Jessica, but I can feel the rage at my mother's desertion bubbling in my chest. After becoming Jessica's father, I could not fathom how a parent could do that to an innocent child who loves him or her.

"She left me, not you, son," he tries to explain.

"Yes she did because she could have taken me with her."

"She didn't take you because I wouldn't let her," he says. "You were the only thing I had left. I couldn't lose you, too."

"Yeah, look how well that turned out. You treated me like crap. It would have been better for me to be with her." I tell him unflinchingly.

"I never meant to hurt you. I never beat you. I loved you then as best as I could. And I love you now. I can't be like a normal person, Sam. You don't know how many times I have prayed to be a better father for you. I wish even now I could be better for you and Jessica. I'm trying to be. I really am." His voice cracks and tears fall down his weathered face, and I immediately feel guilty.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I tell him. "I have to finish bathing Jessica."

My father casts his eyes down, and for a moment, I feel ashamed for making him feel this well. Jessica and I are the only family he has, but the bitter resentment that sits in the pit of my stomach always comes to the surface whenever I talk to him. And since I've had Jessica, we talk more often than we ever did in the past.

I was shocked at how happy he was to hear that I had a daughter, especially under the circumstances of her conception, but he was excited and begged me to bring her for a visit the first weekend I had her. Whatever issues I have with my father, I don't want them to affect his relationship with his only grandchild.

"Will you and my grandbaby please come and see me soon, Sammy?" he asks, almost sounding like a little boy.

I take a deep breath and relent, "I guess." He looks up, and I look into his eyes. He stops crying.

"Awesome. And I hope you can stay more than just one night this time. I love you, Son," he says.

"I love you too, Dad." I turn the phone to Jessica who sees her grandfather waving at her telling her he loves her.

"Bye!" she says, waving furiously at the phone. I end the call and turn to the door of the bathroom and look at my little eavesdropper who is about as subtle as a herd of cattle.

"Do you want to join us?" I ask her, no longer pretending that she is not right there. After only a brief hesitation, she walks in with her head held high and not a hint of embarrassment for being caught eavesdropping.

"I was just coming to tell you that I can call a Lyft or Uber to take me home. Thanks again for dinner." She refuses to meet my eyes, and I can't take her having pity on me. She can allude to me being promiscuous and flat out call me a whore which I can take as well as her other insults, but this pity of hers is something that I refuse to allow.

"I will take you home," I say while finishing Jessica's bath.

"Well, you're busy. And don't you have to put Jessica to bed?" She is right. I hadn't thought of that. After Jessica's bath, I let her play for an hour, and then give her some warm milk while I read to her. She's usually asleep before I finish the story. I'd hate to upset her bedtime routine. Even the smallest change can lead to a meltdown.

"Don't you worry about that. Just sit tight and I'll take care of everything." I say.

"I already told you I can get a ride, so why are you insisting that I not worry about getting home?" she says before she scoffs.

"Because I told you earlier, I would take you home, and I will. Just give me fifteen minutes, and Jessie will want to say goodbye to you, so don't run off and disappoint her." She stomps her feet and walks out of the bathroom. "Women," I say to my daughter. "You better not grow up and be like that." I butterfly kiss her with my eyelashes.

My little sweetheart replies with babble before she splashes water in the tub so hard that water hits me in the face.

Mercedes

Part of me wanted to call a ride service and leave and forget tonight ever happened. The other part of me felt bad for eavesdropping on his private conversation with his father, and that part kept me in his apartment. I never expected to find out all these things about Sam Evans tonight. He was not the entitled playboy jerk of a ballplayer that I thought he was. He was human with positive and negative character traits just like everybody else in the world. I had already known he was a good father. The way his daughter was healthy and loved him was evident in the encounters I had with him in the past. When I first found out that Jessica's mom had passed, I thought that he would hire a nanny or give the child to Jessica's mother's family to raise. But he didn't. He was with his child as much as possible with no help from his family or Jessica's maternal line.

His relationship with his dad and his mother's abandonment also explained why he acted the way he acted around women. He had layers, and after witnessing the guy cooking, bathing his child, and doing what's best for his mentally ill dad all in one night, I realized that I had judged him without knowing the facts and the why of his behavior. As a black woman I have been prejudged my entire life. And I was guilty of doing the same to this man based on social media accounts without taking the time to know who he really was.

Did I want to know who Sam Evans really was? Was the question that pondered my brain. Then I remembered what my grandmother would tell me when I was in this kind of situation.

I can hear her sweet voice telling me: "What you always need to ask yourself is this question: not did you want to know but what are you gonna do when you find out?"

When I got close enough to eavesdrop, I'd assumed he would be finished talking with his father and would probably be talking to his hook up for tonight, but he was still talking to his dad and what I heard answered many things. Things I didn't want to dwell on. Things like we have a lot in common: family abandonment and a family member dealing with mental illness.

While he's finished with Jessica in the bathroom, I decided that I need to busy myself so that I wouldn't think about Sam Evans and how complex the man really was. I didn't want to have anything in common with a man who I called manwhore or Whorevans without thought and most of the time I did it in front of his daughter, so I cleared the table and Jessica's high chair and loaded the dishwasher. There were no leftovers, so it only took me a few minutes to put the kitchen in order.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Sam comes in holding Jessica who is in Little Mermaid footie pajamas with a built-on tutu. He puts her down on the floor, and she wobbles to me on two shaky legs. She wraps her chubby arms around my legs, and I can't help but to bend down to pick her up.

"Is that Jessica all pretty and clean? You smell so good," I say, and she babbles in reply and then looks at her father and reaches for him.

"If you will wait here I'm going to take her to the Puckermans. I called and they agreed to watch her for me for a little while. Johnny is her best friend and he's been missing her, so it worked out fine." He gives her a sippy cup full of milk, and he leaves me alone in his apartment.

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting in the front of his vehicle while he drives me home. I can't think of a thing to say to him now that I realize how wrong some of my opinions about him were, so I ignore him and look out of the window.

After about forty minutes, he pulls up to the modest home I grew up in. It's just now starting to get dark despite it being close to nine o'clock.

"Thanks again for dinner, Goodnight." I say quickly and jump out of the car as quickly as I can.

Because of my short legs, it doesn't take him long to catch up with me. "I'll see you inside," he insists, walking beside me.

"That is totally unnecessary. It's not like we were on a date." I ignore him and walk up the stairs but he is clueless as always and follows me to the front door. After I open the front door, he has the audacity to walk inside without being invited in..

The television is on, but I can hear my mother yelling at my grandmother even though they are in Granny's room.

Sam

I really wished that Mercedes was not smart, sexy as hell, and smelled so good. But no matter how I try to make her unattractive in my thoughts, I cannot get her out of my mind since that darn adoption party. I can't keep my eyes off of her, no matter how hard I try. Why her? Why now? I asked myself continually but didn't get an answer.

I have tried to push her out of my thoughts, but the thought of her being the perfect person that I needed wouldn't go away. Seeing Puckerman and Mike married and happy, got me thinking that maybe commitment could work. Every relationship is not like my mom's and dad's. There are people who choose to stay together and work together and have amazing relationships. Jessica deserved the same childhood as her friend Johnny. My baby girl deserved the best childhood possible.

And she didn't need the nannies I hired, especially the last one to give her the best childhood. Right now she was young, she would soon miss me more and more when I had to go away and play on the road during baseball season. I don't want Jessica to grow up and be resentful like I am toward my own father. Though maybe I wouldn't be so resentful if he was out of the house working instead of sitting on the couch, drinking, and shirking his responsibilities of providing even the basic necessities for me as a child.

As I step inside the house, the first thing I notice is how loud it is. The second thing I notice is that it's an old house. The furniture is old, too, but despite that, the house feels welcoming. It might need repairs, but it's clean and everything is in order.

"Please mom, come on and take your shower!" I hear a woman yell. The words are coming from the back of the house. I know she is yelling because I can hear her clearly over the television.

"You can leave now," Mercedes says. For the first time since the day we met, she voluntarily touches me. She wraps her tiny hand around my wrist and tries to pull me toward the door. I look down at her and roll my eyes. I don't pull my wrist away from her touch though. Her hand feels nice on me. Her tiny hand and fingers are soft and warm on my skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself trying to move me with one hand," I tell her, still not budging.

"You have played the role of a southern gentleman impeccably by seeing me to the door, so now you can go." She tries to pull me again. I twist my wrist free with barely any effort and walk further into the house. She's acting differently now. She's not only trying to get rid of me because she can't stand me, but she also wants to hide something from me. I know the signs. I've been hiding my father and my upbringing most of my life.

A middle-aged woman screams "Mom!" right before an elderly woman runs out of the room without a stitch of clothes on. My eyes widen at the sight. I blink twice, thinking I must be seeing things, but it is obvious I'm not. The naked woman stands there and stares at me, but I look away not wanting to see her body parts. And not wanting to disrespect her.

Mercedes screams and quickly grabs a throw from the couch and covers the older woman with it. "Mom, what is going on with Granny?" Mercedes asks.

"What do you think?" You can tell that Mercedes's mom is exasperated. I watch as the middle aged woman who is Mercedes's mom takes some deep breaths and then responds more calmly to her daughter. "She keeps running away from me every time I try to put her in the shower." She tries to grab the older lady, but the elderly lady moves away and comes to stand in front of me.

She's short and thin with a face covered in wrinkles and her light brown eyes match the color of her skin. Someone turns the television off, and the house is suddenly quiet.

The old woman yells, shocking me by saying, "I'm a certified Sammyfan." She then does that blasted dance even better than some of the younger fangirls, and I am tickled pink.

I laugh so hard at the absurdity of it all. I even take it a step further and do a body roll in front of her. Whenever I used to do that, the Sammyfans would go nuts. I did it at a game once after making a homerun with the bases loaded at the end of a ballgame. That got us a win by one point, and everybody went crazy. Everyone in the stands turned into a Sammyfan that night.

Mercedes whispers "hell no," but I can see a small smile breaking out on her face.

Her mother looks at me for the first time. "The Sam Evans is in my living room," she exclaims. I offer her my hand and she takes it. "Mercedes, how come you didn't tell me he was coming over?" She gives her daughter a questioning look.

"Because he was just leaving," Mercedes says.

"Why is he anyway? You told me you couldn't stand him," her mother says. "I don't know why because he's such a little cutie patootie." I start to blush. Mercedes's mom reaches up and pinches my cheek. I've been called a lot of things, but little cutie patootie is not one of them.

"Mom, he's the worst," Mercedes says as if that should explain why she doesn't like me.

"I'm Melinda," her mom says. "Are you the worst at what? I know it's not baseball." she asks me. She looks a lot like Mercedes with dark eyes and dark hair.

"No, ma'am," I tell her. "I'm a good baseball player and person."

Mercedes is not liking how this is going but I am charmed by both her Sammyfan gran and her mother who thinks I am a little cutie patootie.

Mercedes grandma runs through the house screaming, "Sammyfan!"

"I have to get her showered and put to bed before I lose my sanity," her mother whispers. "Mercedes, you go ahead and entertain your date. It was nice meeting you young man."

"Mom!" Mercedes yells. "As if I would date him. Have you lost your mind as well?"

"No, I haven't young lady. And why wouldn't you date him?" Melinda asks. "He's young, employed, rich, and obviously has a sense of humor. You can and have dated worse, also, you're always watching those videos of him and his baby." Then her mom turns to me. "She will have a disgusted look on her face when it's just you, but once that baby comes on the screen, she melts and has heart eyes."

I turn my head to Mercedes, who will not meet my eyes.

"What are you talking about mom," she says like Arnold from "Diff'rent Strokes, but from the expression on her face, I know she's guilty.

Whatever her mother was going to say next is never spoken because her mother runs through the living room, naked again. Mercedes's mother runs after her, grabs her elbow, and pulls her down the hall. I hear a door slam a few seconds later.

Mercedes has now walked to the kitchen and has put her purse on the table. She has her back to me, and I think she might be embarrassed. This is the first time in our acquaintance that I want her to speak and she chooses not to.

"Is there something wrong with your grandmother?" I ask. I already know the answer. I'm shocked when she answers me with a nod. "Does she always run around the house naked and has the exquisite taste of being a Sammyfan?" I try to play it light, but I don't think she will answer this question.

To my surprise, she looks at me and invites me to sit down on the couch beside her before explaining that her grandmother has Alzheimer's.

She puts her face in both hands. "Granny has been having fewer and fewer good days lately." She abruptly stands up and says, "I should go help my mom. Granny can be a handful." Just as the words leave her mouth, I hear a loud crash from the back of the house.

"Everything's okay," Mercedes's mom shouts. "Keep on enjoying your date with Sam, Cedes!" she yells. "I got everything under control!" she yells again.

"As if I would ever bring a man I am interested in to this house," she mutters. "Thanks for dinner and for bringing me home," she says again, dismissing me for the third or fourth time. I have lost count.

"Do you have help with her every night?" I ask. I have a history with dealing with someone mentally unstable…my own father. As soon as I had enough money, I moved him out of the trailer I grew up in and into a house. He has a housekeeper who also cooks and cleans for him. He's only recently agreed to therapy, but he won't go to the office. The sessions started out on Zoom, but now I pay more for the shrink to go to him.

"Between Mom, my cousin, and myself, we try to care for her, but it's getting hard because we all work full-time, and we can't risk leaving her alone anymore. We had another retired schoolteacher who lives in the neighborhood to sit with her during the day, but my grandmother got agitated once and hit her, so we have no one for now. We can't afford the best assisted living residences. And we refuse to put her in the crappy ones." Her shoulders sag, and I wish I could offer words of comfort, but all I can think of is that maybe I've found my way in. Never in a million years did I think I'd find it this soon, and I know I was being a selfish, insensitive jerk for putting my plan and needs above the compassion that Mercedes deserved, but my love for my baby girl blinded me to reason.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "It's not the same, but my father has severe issues as well."

"Yeah, but you make two million dollars a year. It's not exactly the same. You can afford to give him the best treatment that money can buy. There are new drugs and studies out there, but even with my savings, we couldn't afford for my granny to have the best care" She huffs and looks away from me.

"Excuse me, how do you know how much I make?" I ask. I know that information is on the Internet, but I never thought she would google me. "And it's actually ten times more than that with my endorsement deals," I throw in.

"Whatever Daddy MegaBucks."

"Mercedes," her mother yells so loud from the back, it almost makes me jump. "There's a chocolate cake in the kitchen. Give a piece to your boyfriend." Her mom giggles before she closes the door.

"Oh my Lord, Jesus please take the wheel," Mercedes whispers. "Can she be any more embarrassing?" She looks away from me, shakes her head, and then shouts, "He's not my boyfriend!" Her mother doesn't respond, so Mercedes turns to me and says, "I'm sure you don't eat cake if you don't have any junk food in your apartment."

"What kind of lunatic turns down homemade chocolate cake? I love it." I sit back in the chair, making no moves to leave. It's true. I do love cake. I might not eat it often, but I never turn it down when it's offered.

"There's vanilla ice cream, too," her mother adds in a loud voice.

Although Mercedes frowns, she gets up and a few minutes later a bowl is in front of me with a decadent slice of chocolate cake and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of it. She hands me a spoon, and I attack. She sits across from me and eats her own dessert as well.

"I'm really sorry about your grandma," I say.

Her head snaps up, and for once, there's no anger or animosity. Her eyes don't narrow in distrust either.

"Thanks. It's been really hard on us, especially since other family members won't step up to help."

"Well, it's just me, Jessica, and my dad. I'm all he has," I shrug. Dad, despite his issues, is all I had until Jessica. "At least you have your mom and cousin to help with your grandma."

"I still don't know what we're going to do. It's already gotten to the point where we can't leave her alone. Our jobs aren't flexible. I'm the only one who can work from home during the day sometimes, since my managerial position is part-time, but it's impossible to get anything done and take care of her at the same time. I have already cut down on my singing, so my mom doesn't have to be here every night with her alone."

"Well, not that I'm comparing," I say between bites of cake, "but it's not easy taking care of a baby on your own either. Add being on the road half of the year to that mix. She cried every time I left for a game, and it made me feel so guilty and made me feel like I was failing her as a father."

Mercedes nods her head in understanding before putting her spoon down and pushing her dessert away. I grab it and take a piece of her cake.

"Don't take this the wrong way," she says, "but you're a good father, and I can understand now why you always have her with you when you are not having an away game."

I sit up straighter at the compliment. Mike and Tina tell me all the time what a good parent I am. Every time I talk to my dad, he tells me the same thing, but hearing it from someone I know can't stand me is the best feeling.

"Please tell me why would I take what you said the wrong way?" I ask her.

"Because I don't like you, and it pains me to say it, but you are a good father whose only fault is that you can't dress her worth a damn, but she's happy, healthy and you obviously adore her. She loves you too."

"And?" I ask her, wanting her to elaborate.

"You know who you should be mad at?" She goes on without waiting for me to answer. "Fate for taking Jessica's mother away so young. It's not fair to Jessica or you. It's hard co-parenting with two people, it's impossible when you're by yourself."

"You know about co-parenting from personal experience?" I know she's single since she's trying to find someone on that dating app. I've never known her to bring a guy around Tina and Mike, at least not when I've been around. I've scoured her social media since the adoption party, and I didn't see a man. There are only pictures of her and some family members.

"My parents are divorced. My mom had full-time custody, but my dad has always been in my life, but sometimes, he couldn't pick me up for the weekend like planned, and my mom would go on a rant about how unreliable he was." She says this in her mother's voice. "Then Granny would joke that she was more my father than he was, and that would anger my mom even more, calling herself the default parent and that men are about as useful as titties on a bull."

I never thought someone as confident as Mercedes would have issues with her father sometimes neglecting to take care of her, but I can understand why she thought I was manwhore if her dad was a womanizer after the divorce and was putting women before spending time with his own child. I am grateful she had her mom and grandmother though, and I laugh loudly at her mother's analogy.

"At least you had family around growing up." I finally say to her after laughing so hard. I had other family around too, but they were worse than my dad. At least my dad isn't mean or abusive. He's just useless. "Your mom seems very nice."

Just as the words leave my mouth, her mother comes out with Granny. Granny seems to be subdued now. She sits on the couch, and Mercedes's mom puts on a television show for her. She puts a throw on her lap and joins us in the kitchen.

She has a big grin on her face as she looks from me to Mercedes.

"Wow, Cedes. When you decide to get a boyfriend, you really get one. I don't even care that he is white as snow with those lips and those moves, I am sure he has some color up in him somewhere." She runs her hand through Mercedes's hair. Then she turns to me and says, "There better not be any fooling around with your Sammyfans or you're going to have to deal with this mama bear. You got that, young man?" She points her index finger in my face.

"Mom, please stop. He's not my boyfriend and he's not even my friend. He's a player," she says as if that's some scientific fact.

"Honey, a lot of people go through a sowing of their wild oats phase at some point. Who cares about his past if he is not cheating on you? Just make sure he is sowing those oats with you and you alone" Mercedes's eyes widen, and I realize where she gets her bluntness from. She is definitely her mother's daughter.

"OMG Mom. Can you go watch TV with Granny or something?" Mercedes puts her hands on both her cheeks to stop her blush.

"I am only teasing you Mercedes." Her mother turns to me and says, "What did you think of the cake? I made it from scratch."

"I absolutely loved it," I say, and she smiles even bigger than before.

"Mercedes, make sure you give him a slice to take home."

"Mom, can you leave us alone now?"

"Sure, I know you two might want some more time alone," her mom says. "I'm going to go and put your grandma to bed. I won't be back out here in case you two need lots of privacy."

"We don't need any privacy," Mercedes says.

I can't help but tease her and be honest, so I tell Mercedes to "Speak for yourself," Her mom gives me a fist bump and tells us goodbye and practically floats away.

"As if I would willingly touch you with a ten-foot pole," she says, standing up and taking the plates away. "Good Lord, she's so embarrassing," she whispers. She takes out a Tupperware bowl and puts a big piece of cake in it before she gestures for me to take it.

"Well, don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't beg you to touch me." I stand up to get close to her.

"That will never happen. As if I would let you be the—" She catches herself and closes her mouth shut.

"The what? The first guy who is willing to be touched by a she wolf?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "Don't worry about it because you'll never be that guy."

I take another step closer to her. She has her back to me while she washes the dishes. She goes stiff when I put both hands on her shoulders and when I squeeze her shoulders, she moans softly. I bend down and get close to her ear without touching it with my mouth and whisper, "You know what they say. Never say never."

I then do the smartest thing I have done all night. I take my cake and leave before she can reply.