A/N first part of this chapter is depressing but it gets a little better at the end. Thanks again for your continual support and please forgive all my errors. Standard disclaimer: I own nothing or I only own up to the mistakes...
Seven
Sam
I am sitting at home thinking about the last time I was with Mercedes. I think that I may have messed up with her. Maybe I need to alter the plan. She's already suspicious of me, and if it's revealed too soon, she'll run away screaming. However, I need to move fast. I need to do this before Mike and Tina get involved. Mercedes will tell Tina, will go to Mike, and my plans will be blown to smithereens.
Time is not on my side, but I don't want what we have to be seen as arranged.. I check my phone, and there's only an email from my agent with a contract for a commercial. Jessica's at a playdate with the Puckermans, and I'm at home alone.
It's been almost a week since I have seen Mercedes. After we left the park and I brought her to her house, it was quiet when we got there. My baby girl had fallen asleep on Mercedes's mom. And Melinda were watching some Real Housewives show.
My daughter slept through the night after I got her home, but I didn't. Thoughts of Mercedes ran through my mind. Everything we did that day played like it was on repeat. When I finally did go to sleep, I even dreamt about her. It was probably this year of celibacy and seeing how great she was with my daughter that got me so caught up on her..
I try to busy myself with cleaning up the apartment, watching television, and even listening to my favorite sports podcast. But my mind couldn't stop thinking about her, so before I could talk myself out of it, I call her knowing she will probably not answer now that she knows it is my number on the phone. When I think she is about to let my call go to voicemail, I hear a beep on my phone alerting me of another call.
Hoping that it is Mercedes calling from another phone, I answer the phone. At first there is no reply and right when I am getting ready to end the call, I hear a voice saying this is Barbara.
"Barbara who?" I ask really not knowing who Barbara is and why she has my phone number.
"It's "Barbara Westbrook," she says angrily. "I am Bree's mother and Jessica's grandmother," she states, and I instantly regret answering the call. Of course, it would be the one person that I never wanted to see or talk to again. I was hoping that with the threat of a restraining order that she would stay away from me and Jessica for good. The lady was batshit crazy.
"What do you want Barbara?"
"Oh, I am just calling you to let you know that I am on way to come and get her," she says as if she has the right to do so.
"Lady, I don't know what you are smoking but that is something that you will never do," I say and end the call. To erase the unease and the bile I feel building up in my throat, I try to call Mercedes again, and I was delightfully surprised when she answered her phone this time.
"Unless something is wrong with Jessica this is not a good time to talk," her voice is subdued. She sounds as if she has been crying.
"Are you okay? What's going on? Where are you?" I ask. Hoping that she was not hurt.
"Why are you asking me all of these questions? Please tell me that you are not outside my Granny's house with food again?"
"And if I was…are you going to come open the door or not or should I let your steak, lobster, and shrimp sit outside and spoil on your steps?"
"Very funny," is all she says and her voice lacks her spark and she didn't even tell me what I could do with all that imagined expensive food.
"Something is wrong. Please tell me." I beg, hoping that will keep her from ending the call. I am surprised when she proceeds to tell me that her grandmother had fallen when she was supposed to be watching her. .
"I had left her alone to go to the bathroom and she ran away. She had almost got a block down the road before she turned her ankle on a crack in the sidewalk while running. It took me ten minutes to find her there lying on the ground in pain. I called 911 and the ambulance brought us to the closest emergency room at McKinley General Hospital. Now she's—" She stops talking and starts crying. Her distress and tears make me get up and out the door in seconds. I don't even bother putting on my shoes. I pick them up by the door and decide I'll put them on in the elevator.
"It's going to be alright" I say, doing my best to reassure her. "Do you have anybody there with you?"
"No, we just got here, and I haven't been able to reach my mom yet."
"I'm on my way." I tell her.
"You don't have to—" She says tearily, but I can tell she doesn't mean it.
"I'm already on the elevator."
"You can't bring Jessie to a hospital, you crazy man." She is thinking of my daughter and insulting me. She was coming around.
"Jessica is having a playdate with Johnny at the Puckermans. I'm getting in my car now."\
After a few seconds and a few sobs, she says, "Okay. Thank you, Sam."
I chose to drive my Bugatti Chiron that the team gave me as a gift after winning our second World Series and I was named MVP. I rarely drove the sports car because it was not a child friendly vehicle. This time I drove it as fast and safely as I could towards the hospital which was thirty minutes aways from my apartment complex. I got there in fifteen minutes, thankful that I didn't get a speeding ticket. After tossing the keys of my sports car to a valet who was excited to park the sports car, I ran inside the emergency room entrance.
I immediately find Mercedes sitting down with her face in her hands. The room is full of people, and I don't make it halfway to her before I'm discovered by a fan.
"It's the leader of the Sammyfans," someone yells.
Thankfully, Mercedes doesn't hear or she doesn't react. I shake my head no at the person, who has enough sense to read social cues and to back off. I take the seat next to her and put my hand on her shoulders. Her head snaps up, and she looks into my face. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks scared. She bursts into tears, and I pull her into my arms. She melts into my embrace and cries on my chest. I run my hands down her back and try my best to soothe her without words. II don't want to tell her everything will be okay when I don't know if that's true.
After several minutes, she pulls away. She digs around in her purse and grabs some tissues to wipe her eyes and nose.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles. Then she bursts into tears again and says, "It's all my fault. They said her hip and ankle are broken and she needs surgery for her hip." More tears fall, but before I can console her again, her mother comes rushing into the room. Mercedes runs to her, and the two hug, rocking each other back and forth.
"It's not your fault, baby girl," Melinda says while she cups Mercedes's face. "She ran from me and made it outside in the middle of the street where cars were avoiding her the other day too while I was making her breakfast. She could have gotten hit or fallen down then. Believe me it's not your fault."
Mercedes cries again and stays wrapped in her mom's arms. I think her mother's words are what Mercedes needed to hear.
When her mom lifts her head from hugging her daughter, she notices me, and opens her arms to me and the three of us hug.
"Where's that sweet baby girl of yours?" she asks.
I answer her but before I can say anything else, Roz comes in with a man who was probably around my age. He's a couple inches over six feet which is almost my height. He hugs Mercedes and lifts her off her feet. He puts her down when he notices me.
"Cedes, I thought everybody was pranking me." He looks at me. "You really are dating Sam Evans," he says in awe. "How do you go from not having a man to this one?" He offers me his hand, and I shake it. "You sure you can handle him?" he asks Mercedes while looking at me.
"Shut the hell up, Junior," Mercedes says. "I keep telling everyone that he's not my boyfriend but nobody listens to me," she is being her normal sassy self, and I'm relieved.
"I'm her big cousin, Matthew to you," he says, pointing at me. "You got to earn the right to call me Junior." Mercedes rolls her eyes at him, and I grin.
"Junior, please stop." Mercedes says.
Junior ignores her and motions for me to join him and a secluded part of the emergency waiting room.
"Mercedes is my baby cousin, and my favorite person in the world." His words sound like he was about to issue a warning. "Family is everything. And even though I am not about that thug life, she has a family that will jack your ass up if you hurt her."
"Are you threatening me?" I ask to make sure I am understanding what he is trying to say.
"It's not a threat, it's a promise. You have a reputation for being hell on women," he whispers.
I roll my eyes and huff. "I am no different than any young man in his prime. I am sure I have done anything that you wouldn't have done if you were in my shoes."
"We ain't talking about me. You keep that community dick of yours in your pants and stay away from those Sammyfans and we won't have a problem. But if you hurt my cousin, there will be a big problem. You understand."
"You need to back off and trust that your cousin knows how to handle her own business," I tell him, only he steps closer. "Mercedes would not be with him if I had ever disrespected her."
"You probably haven't gotten any yet and are on your best behavior. What I need to hear from you is that you will never disrespect her."
"What happens between your cousin and me is between us and us alone." I take a step closer to him and wait for him to move back, but he doesn't.
"Junior? Evans? What the hell are you two posturing about?" She comes between us. "Are you idiots having some kind of pissing contest in the emergency room waiting room while Granny is hurt?" When neither one of us answers, she says, "Are you both crazy?"
"I just had to make sure he knows not to disrespect you, Cedes," Junior says.
"Disrespect me? I am tired of explaining myself. I'm not his girlfriend. He couldn't disrespect me even if he tried. Just stop, Junior." Mercedes says.
"Cedes the whole neighborhood has been talking about this man seeing you. Roz giving out signed jerseys to little boys in the neighborhood only cosigns this. Don't tell me nothing's going on, and since your daddy ain't here, it's my job—"
"My daddy lives two hours away, and I can call him if I want him to be here, but I don't need him here because I am a fully grown woman. And you," Mercedes says, pointing a finger at me now dismissing her cousin, "just wait until I tell Tina you're over here acting like a caveman. She's gonna knock you on your ass."
"The only person who's scared of Tina is her husband," I tell her, chuckling. "And I didn't even do anything. Your cousin is the one who got in my face and started threatening me." She gives each of us both a dirty look, turns her back, and walks away towards her mother and Roz.
Mercedes
The only good thing about Junior's presence and him and Sam acting like two fools is that it distracts me from the fact that we are in the hospital. But as soon as my grandmother's doctor appears, I am forced back into my nightmarish reality. I heard the words he is telling my mother, but my brain won't or can't accept them. Granny breaking her hip and ankle are bad enough, but that was fixable. We'd figure out a way to get her the help she needs, but Dr. Hiram Berry just threw us a curveball I did not anticipate.
"Am I hearing you correctly, are you saying my mother had a stroke?" my mom asks. We grab onto each other to keep each other from falling.
I feel a large hand rubbing up and down on my back, and it feels soothing. I'm not going to acknowledge whose arm it belongs to, but for the moment, his hand on me feels good, and I won't shrug it away from the comforting. Roz takes my other hand, and Junior stands so fast that his chair tips over. The doctor talks about complications and that Granny is now in the intensive care unit. Tears stream down my face as I listen. Words like rehabilitation and possible partial paralysis bounce around in my head.
I squeeze my mom's hand as she listens. Unlike me, she hasn't shed a single tear. That's not surprising because she's always had to be the strong one. She's my mother and caregiver of her own mother. She'll have to be strong because that's what she does best.
As abruptly as the doctor came into the waiting room, he leaves and we're left behind in stunned silence. A nurse comes, and we follow her to the intensive care unit. Only one of us can go in at a time, and we're told that since she's so fragile, they are limiting her to one visitor for tonight.
We all know that this person will be my mom. As she goes to see Granny, Junior walks to a far corner, and I know it's so I won't see him cry. Roz follows after him. As for me, I don't care who sees. I burst into tears in the middle of the room. I cover my face with my hands and wail. I feel large hands on my shoulders again. I don't try to move away from his comforting embrace, not even when he pulls my hands from my face. Not when he tilts my chin up so I can look into his eyes. I know I must look like a hot mess with red swollen eyes, and I'm sure my nose is runny, but I don't care. I take comfort in his green eyes, and I ask myself why I've never noticed how nice his eyes are before this very moment.
I don't pull away when he nestles me into his muscled broad chest, I just continue to cry out my pain and he rubs my back and makes soothing sounds.
"It will be okay," he whispers repeatedly. He says those words so many times that I start to believe them. He pulls me to the small couch on the opposite side of the room, and once we're seated, he pulls me close, and I put my head on his shoulder.
During my crying jab I recognize the smell of him as my face is pressed into his chest. He always smells so good. He puts a hand on my lap, and for the first time, I notice how nice and strong his fingers are. He holds me until the tears subside and all that's left is an occasional sniffle. He hands me tissue and I blow and he is not grossed out. He just takes the tissue and puts it in the trash and goes to wash his hands before returning by my side.
My mom comes back, and her face is stoic and void of all color. She looks as if she's aged twenty years in twenty minutes. She looks woebegone and frail. She comes and sits next to me and takes my hand. I remain in Sam's arms. I haven't had a man's arms around me like this since I was a little girl and my dad would hold me. The closest I get to that now is Junior threatening to beat someone's ass on my behalf for any imagined slight. Or when he lifts me off my feet when he hugs me from being extremely happy.
Junior and Roz come over to where we are seated, and we all wait for my mother to say something.
"She is still unconscious," Mom says. "She looked so fragile, like a little helpless girl," she whispers. Tears fall, and she swipes them away. "We're going to need to talk and make some decisions as a family." Her voice cracks, and my tears start all over again. "I've never seen my mother look so vulnerable," she chokes out.
"Mel, maybe we should go home, and wait to talk to the rest of your family tomorrow," Roz says, but my mom shakes her head. "Please, right now is not the best time to make decisions when you are emotionally drained. Believe me you don't need to figure everything out now."
"I can't leave her," she says. "She's never abandoned me. I can't leave her alone in this hospital."
"You are my best friend in the entire world. I would never tell you something to make you feel better. I always tell the truth and you know this. I'll be here tomorrow as soon as I see how many cases I have that are urgent. Tonight you will need food and rest so you can figure things out. Your mother wouldn't want you have a sleepless night here," Roz says.
"I'll stay," Junior volunteers. "I'm off tomorrow. And I promise to call you if there is a change in her condition. I just need one of y'all to bring me a change of clothes in the morning.
We decided to take turns visiting the hospital. This morning, Mom and Roz relieved Junior. I'll go after work. Although the stroke was less severe than we feared, the news isn't great. She needs inpatient rehab. She's confused and doesn't know where she is, and she became aggressive with a nurse when they tried to make her walk.
I stare blankly at my computer screen. My phone buzzes with a text from Tina checking on me. I try to reply but tears blur my vision. Then, Evans calls. He was really supportive yesterday, driving us all home and ordering dinner before getting Jessica. I smile for the first time today, feeling guilty for my past judgment of him.
"Hey," I say, sniffling.
"I'm outside. Jessica wanted to see you," he says, without a greeting. Hearing Jessica say Say Say, I end the call and open the door for them. Jessica is strapped to his chest, and he's carrying two large brown paper bags again. We silently prepare for dinner—roasted chicken with potatoes, carrots, and zucchini along with whole grain rolls and butter. It's delicious, and I don't hesitate to eat a large portion.
"Thank you," I tell him.
He nods and grins, and I notice for the first time how nice his smile is. Jessica, greasy from her meal, says, "Nom nom," and I wipe her face.
We eat in silence. Afterward, I clear the table while he takes Jessica to clean up. When he returns, he tells me he put her to sleep on my bed and surrounded her with pillows the way that he had seen me do before.
"That's fine," I say, turning on the dishwasher. I go to my work laptop.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asks. I look up, and he gestures to the couch. I check my work to make sure nothing urgent needs my attention, then sit on the couch.
He brings a backpack and pulls out a folder with a brochure for an expensive rehabilitation center in Cleveland and another for an elite nursing home, which we can't afford. "The hospital is trying to find her a rehab—"
"You know that hospital is underfunded and over extended. Your grandmother deserves the best, and don't worry about the costs because you know someone who can afford it," he says.
The only person I know who could afford it is my best friend Tina because she is married to Mike, whose family money is in the billions.. But I can't ask them for more after all she's already done for me. I didn't want to be that friend who always has a hand out. I just asked her and Mike to hire Junior. I can't ask them to do anything else for my family.
"I am not asking Tina for help for my grandmother when it's not life and death."
"I am not talking about Tina. I am talking about me," he says.
I start to cough in shock. He pats my back, and I move away. "What did you just say?"
"I will pay for your grandma's rehab and, if you want, for her stay at the nursing home afterward. If you'd rather she stay here, I can arrange for her to have around the clock in-home care."
"Why would you do that for me? We barely know each other and we definitely don't even like each other."
"I really like you, and I like your family," he says, stepping closer.
"No, Sam, I can't accept that from you," I shake my head. "Thank you, but that's just too much. I could never repay you."
"Come sit back down and let's talk about it," he insists, taking my hand. His skin is soft and warm.
We are sitting close on the couch when I remember how good he smelled yesterday. "I can't take charity from you," I tell him.
"It's not charity. There's something I need from you in return." He seems nervous. I steady myself to get up, but he places a hand on my lap. "I need help with Jessica."
I relax slightly, understanding his struggle. "Oh, you want me to help you find a nanny?"
"No, I want you to help raise her as my wife."
"Wow. Sam I love that little girl, but that is something I can't do. I'm not ready to be a mother," I argue.
"We can make it work. My daughter likes you, and I want to give her the family I never had."
"That's not how marriage should work. People who stay together because of kids make everybody in the household miserable. Jessica deserves to be raised in a loving family. You must agree or you would have married Bree." I protest.
"I don't want to talk ill of the dead but Bree would have only married me for my money. I know your morals and I know that is something that you will never do. But I have a need and you have a need. We can help each other. This marriage will work because we are both getting something we want from it. You won't ever have to worry about your grandmother again, and I won't have to worry about my daughter being raised without a loving mother." he says.
"I'm looking for a relationship not a transaction."
"I just explained that this is not transactional," he chuckles. "We can help each other. If you are worried about me being unfaithful, I promise I won't cheat on you," he says, seriously. His words surprise me.
"This would be a marriage of convenience, so why would I worry about you cheating and why am I even entertaining this fantasy marriage?"
"Make no mistake that if you agree to marry me, that our marriage would not be a marriage in name only. You are sexy and I am sexy, so two sexy people will want to have sex with one another. I don't plan to spend the rest of my life horny as hell without any hopes of having sex," he adds.
"Oh Lord, I don't want to think about you being an horny ass," I say, but the idea of a real marriage between us makes my heart race.
"Our friends are awesome and help me out a lot, but they have families of their own. Tina is pregnant with twins and I don't want to overwhelm Marley. I have no family to help me. I'm alone in raising Jessica, and when I am on the road and she's sick or just having a meltdown, I feel awful. Jessica needs someone other than me to depend on. Jessica deserves a mom." he explains. I feel a pang of sympathy.
"She does, but out of all the women in the world you can ask to marry you, I don't why you would choose me. You don't even like me," I remind him.
"I do like you. You're everything I would want in a wife and mother for my daughter. You are smart, loyal, hardworking, and most importantly you are good to my daughter," he says. "I have always wanted to be your friend. You're the one who always had a problem with me."
"I am sorry, Sam, but my answer has got to be no." I tell him even though a little part of me wanted to say yes, and I had to believe that it was from lack of sleep and stress about my grandmother and horniness.
"What about your grandmother?" he asks. "The rehab and nursing home are ready for her. We can do this for her. Your family will never have to worry about her care again. The rehab center utilizes innovative and the latest techniques in not only rehabbing the body but the mind as well."
"I'm not willing to have a convenient marriage because that is what this is. There are no other feelings between us."
"You might deny your feelings for me, but I have been attracted to you since I first saw you singing at Mike's hotel.
"You're not my type. I like bald men. Black preferably, but I'm flexible if there is a spark."
He runs his hands over his head. "I'm not shaving my head. I won't look good bald. Marley's uncle was not black or bald and you flirted with him."
I move away from him and lie without feeling guilty. "I'm not attracted to you. I want passion."
"Really? Because you could not stop looking at my dick that day you were snooping around in my bedroom. You checked out my ass, too."
I stare into his eyes, unable to utter a single word to refute his claims. I'll take this to my grave, but he's very handsome. He has beautiful green eyes, full lips, and his naked body is perfect. When he smiles, my stomach does a little somersault, and I've never experienced that with anyone before. I can see why all the fangirls want a piece of him.
"Kiss me," he says. "If you feel nothing, I won't mention my proposal to you again."
"I'm not kissing you with your chicken breath."
He sighs and sticks his hand in his pocket. He takes out a packet of breath strips and shoves two in his mouth. I look at his lips again, and then into his eyes as he offers me a strip. I take a strip and allow it to melt in my mouth. My heart starts to beat like a drum inside my chest. I lick my lips in anticipation. He's clean-shaven, and I wonder if he can even grow a full beard.
"So, are you going to kiss me or whaa?" I ask, and his firm lips land on mine before I can finish the question. His lips feel warm and soft. Much softer than I thought they would.
I hear a moan and realize that it is my voice. I open my mouth to breathe, and he takes that as a sign to add tongue. French kissing me like I was the tastiest thing he ever had the pleasure of tasting. I close my eyes and lose myself in the softness of his lips and the safety of his arms. My hands find their way to the nape of his neck, and they travel up to his soft hair.
I press myself into him and he lifts me on his lap, so I can straddle him, and I can feel him through his shorts. My body suddenly comes alive in a way it never has before. His hands slide underneath my shirt, and I can feel his warm hands on my bare skin. I don't know what possesses me, but I slowly grind on top of him.
I hear another moan, and I don't know if it's him or me. I don't care. All I care about at this moment is this man, this kiss, and the softness of his hands on my skin. Those large hands of his as they cup my ass. No man has ever touched my ass before, and I don't want him to ever stop. My nipples harden, and I rub my chest on him to ease the ache in my breasts. I grind on him to ease the need between my legs.
The kiss continues until I hear a phone ringing in the living room. When I realize it's mine, I jump off his lap as if I've been caught doing something I have no business doing. I almost trip as I run to my phone and see Mom flash across my screen. I take a deep breath and pray that my heart will slow down. I also say another prayer that my mother doesn't know why I am out of breath.
"Hey, Mom," I say as I answer as calmly as I can.