A/N: See Chapter One for Story Disclaimer.

O-O

The rest of the evening passed in a timeless silence. Sam sat frozen as everyone else moved around him. He saw Momma Pat scurry back and forth from the dinner table, occasionally sneaking worried glances at him as she moved dishes of food to the kitchen. He saw her but couldn't respond to her, couldn't assure her that he was alright.

Because he wasn't alright. His thoughts whipped about in a tornado of frightening nonsense and he couldn't find a way to move from his seat at the table. His knees would wiggle in attempt, but the cementing grief in his bones weighed more than any energy he could expend.

In an odd fleeting thought, his frozen state reminded Sam that he had hardly eaten.

How had things gone so horribly wrong? How had he missed the mark that much?

Why didn't Nettie know that he and Mercedes were engaged?

How were the babies?

God, the babies. All of this stress can't be good for them. Nothing else mattered but getting this right with Mercedes' family. He didn't want his children growing up without full support from both sides. His kids' happiness mattered over everything else, and if he had to swallow his pride to get it for them, then so be it.

Nettie could decide that she still didn't want anything to do with him after this, but Sam was going to do his damnedest to make sure that he was likable. But first, he had to figure out why he was so hated. All that Nettie said didn't make sense to him.

Mercedes's chair pushed away for the dining table, and the scraping sound against the wood floors jolted up Sam's spine, making him involuntarily jump in his seat. He shoved his chair back to stand when she did, fingers grazing her forearm as she crossed and ran up the steps. Sam groaned when he heard the bedroom door slam shortly after, knowing that the conversation that awaited him wouldn't be pleasant. Still, he took a breath, held it, and marched determinedly up the stairs. He paused in her doorway, hand fisted and ready to knock, but stopped just as he realized that the door was open. He watched his love moved around the room like a wild woman, haphazardly folding her clothes and throwing them to the ground, only stopping after a few moments when she heard him finally exhale. The pause was brief. Mercedes took a breath of her own shortly after, slowing as she folded the sweater in hand.

"I don't want to talk right now, Sam." He could still hear the tears in her voice. It broke his heart. "I just need a minute."

Sam swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm afraid that our relationship won't last another minute if we don't talk about it, Mercedes."

She turned sharply, staring him down, but the anger in her gaze seemed forced. "Fine, Sam." She bundled the sweater in hand quickly before tossing it into the duffel bag near her feet. Sam noted that he hadn't seen the bag among the tons of luggage they brought here. He wondered where she got it, how long she had it-If she had reserved it in case of an emergency like this, when she felt trapped, embarrassed, and desperate to run away.

She was always so skittish. Dating Mercedes felt like dating a doe at times. Like Bambi.

She has Bambi eyes, he thought, smiling out of place. New nickname maybe? If this all works out?

"Is this funny to you?" Her troubled tone brought him back to the present, wiping the smile off of his face immediately.

"No. No, not at all. Sorry, I was just thinking about your eyes." She scrunched her face, clearly displeased. "Sorry, never mind. Forget I said that."

"I wish I could forget a lot of things right now." Mercedes sighed, plopping down on her bed. She refused to look at him, staring down the bag on the floor instead. A beat of silence passed before she added, solemnly, "What happened at dinner today, Sam?"

Sam finally dropped his raised fist, sliding his hand along the door as he entered the room. "I…. I honestly don't know. I don't know where it went wrong." He answered, inching tentatively closer until he stood at the foot of the bed. Mercedes had left room to sit beside her, but in this state, he didn't want to presume.

Mercedes looked back up at him, then where he was standing, and sighed again, resting her hand on the empty spot beside her. "Please come sit, Sam?" She wearily asked, more soft command than question. He quickly obeyed, moving to take the offered seat and hastily grab her hand. She didn't pull away. Sam considered it a small win.

"Baby, I'm so sorry about tonight. I didn't want it to go like this at all." Sam pressed the hand clasped in his to his chest, hoping to get her to look at him and read his sincerity. Mercedes's eyes followed the dangling sway of her feet instead.

"Babe, I tried really hard to get Nettie to like me. I tried to say all of the right things and impress her, but it was like she came to dinner ready to tear me apart! Like….okay, so before we even sat down for dinner, she was clearly all cozy with Shane, calling him the "Son-in-Law" she never had or whatever to get under my skin. Then, when you left, she started talking about Black Lives Matter and that little boy who was shot by the police and I said that I've been treated differently too, for looking older than I am." Mercedes finally looked at him, eyes unreadable, but attentive.

"Then Shane came in and said, 'No Sam, we're talking about being black. You wouldn't understand.' It was like he was intentionally trying to shut me out! And then, everybody basically laughed at me for not knowing what HBCU means from the very beginning, but duh, how the hell would I know that? I'm white. I mean, yeah, it was definitely stupid to pretend like I knew, but…. they could've just explained it to me, like you did. They didn't have to laugh about it. And Nettie kept touching Shane the whole time, patting his hand or rubbing his shoulder, while all I got was a slap for half-eating all of the biscuits! And when she brought up me being homeless and almost failing out of high school, I just…I snapped. I couldn't hold it in anymore."

He paused, waiting for Mercedes to respond to anything he said. She just kept looking, kept watching and listening, eyes flicking back and forth between his eyes, his lips, and the hand pressing hers to his heart.

"It's like, she kept bringing up all of the things that made me different, to purposefully make me feel like an outsider. Like, I know white people have hurt her in the past. I get that. But, clearly, I'm not one of them! I mean, would I even be here if I was? I'm with you, for God's sake! Clearly, I don't care about race! I fell in love with you for you, not your color. And I don't see you as different because of it, either. You're just Mercedes to me. If you ask me, she's the one hung up on race. She's arrogant and insecure and all that other stuff she said, not me."

Mercedes gradually stiffened as he spoke. Sam didn't notice until the rigidity reached her fingers, splaying across his chest before pulling out of his hold with a start. A confused Sam moved to ask what was wrong, but Mercedes pushed off of the bed before he could manage to.

"Mercedes?"

"Sam." She held out her hand, stopping him from getting up. "First of all, don't you ever call Nettie names. I don't care if you're in your feelings. She's not your family and that's not your place."

"But, Mercy…"

"If Mama Vic pissed me off one day and I started calling her arrogant and insecure, would you be okay with it?"

Sam's mouth snapped shut. "Okay, sorry. That was out of line."

Mercedes nodded, crossing her arms. "You're damn right, it was! But it wasn't nearly as out of line as everything else you just said, Sam." Mercedes covered her eyes, groaning. "Oh my God, I can't believe I didn't see this earlier. You're so fucking stupid, Mercedes. You know better than this. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"Hey, don't do that." Sam stood and quickly crossed to embrace her. "Babe, it's not your fault. Some older folks just have racist views that we can't change. I was a little surprised by Momma Pat and Mr. Jones' reaction, but hey…."

"They have racist views?" Mercedes broke away from the embrace, visibly disgusted. "Sam, I was talking about you."

"Me?" Sam laughed, "What? I'm racist?!"

"I don't see color? I don't see you as different? Would I even be here if I cared about the fact that you were black? How would I know about HBCUs, because I'm white?" Mercedes mocked, eyes wide. Sam frowned, still lost. "Oh my god, Sam! You don't hear anything wrong with what you said?"

"I know you want me to say yes, but…." Sam shrugged. That hollow feeling in the pit of his belly returned, more cavernous than before. "What did I say wrong? Tell me what I said wrong and I can fix it." He reached for her hand again. This time, she did snatch it away, crossing to the other corner of the room.

"And that's another problem, Sam. This whole 'ditzy blond' thing's been a problem I've had with you since the beginning, and I've told you this." Mercedes turned, crossing her arms. "It is not my job to teach you everything about my blackness. I am not your personal guide to all things Negro."

"Woah, wait. I never said the N-word."

Mercedes sighed in frustration, rubbing her eyes. "That's not even the N-word, Sam." She collected herself a moment, fighting the urge to slap him. "Sam, let me ask you a question. Do you even consider the fact that I'm black? Like, at all?"

Sam's face scrunched. "Of course I do. I'm always aware of how white I am when I'm around your family. I can't avoid it."

"I didn't ask you about how white you felt around my family. I asked you if you've ever thought about the fact that I'm black. What that means?" She prodded, hoping he'd think before he answered.

"Mercedes, of course I've thought about it. You've always been so proud to be black and I love that about you. What I'm saying is that I love you, regardless of how different we are. I don't see your color or how different you are from me, I just see you."

Mercedes exploded. "You keep saying that! You keep repeating that like it's a compliment, like it's supposed to make me happy. It doesn't, Sam! Hearing you say that is the most ignorant thing I've heard from you."

"How is that ignorant? Don't you love me in spite of the fact that I'm white? How is that any different?"

"It's different because when people look at us, they don't think 'how was he ever lucky enough to get someone like her?', Sam. They think 'Why is that white man with that dark-skinned black woman? Why couldn't he find someone like him?' I get the weird looks and the cold treatment, Sam. Not you. And It's because I'm black!"

Sam sighed, softening in understanding. "Mercy, they're ignorant. I don't care about what other people think…."

"No, Sam. You still don't get it." Mercedes did her best to collect herself again, formulating her thoughts. "I am so, so…. ridiculously proud to be black. Like, I can't imagine being anything else. I love my heritage, I love our music, I love our food, I love the skin that I'm in…. everything. And I didn't grow up always appreciating every part of my blackness, because ignorant folk here used to make me feel like I was 'too black' or 'not black enough' and I never quite knew where I fit. But I've found my place now, Sam. I don't whisper it anymore like it's some ugly secret or blemish of misfortune. That's HUGE for me. And so much of who I am, so much of what you love about me is because I've embraced that. The color of my skin isn't everything I am, but it is a significant part of me."

"And baby, I get that!"

"Do you?" she prodded, insisting, "Because if you did, you couldn't love me in spite of my blackness. Black isn't just my race and my pigment. It's my soul! My heart! My rhythm. The glow of my entire being. Sam, when you say that, you negate all that makes me me. It's worse than saying you don't love me. It's saying you don't see me, not fully."

Sam reflected, still confused, but battling guilt. "Mercedes, I—"

Mercedes shook her head, holding out her hand to stop him. "Sam, please let me finish." She took a breath, battling fresh tears as she revealed a part of herself she'd unknowingly kept hidden. "I've never said anything because I was afraid of messing up our relationship. But, I think not saying it has messed us up even more, so….here goes." She clenched and unclenched her fists, working up her courage.

"You get to be white…all by yourself. When you say or do something, it's dismissed as you just being Sam. But baby, when I do something? I reflect an entire race of people. If I say or do something stupid, it gives white folks the ammunition they need to call every black person they meet stupid. Do you know what that means? It means I can't slip up once. It means I can't hang out with your family and not know how white folks do things. What songs they sing and what they drink at the dinner table. I have to change the way I speak when I'm in different spaces, you know that? It's like I have two different brains. White isn't an intrinsic part of your identity until you're around people that aren't white!"

She exhaled, gathering herself again. "You started learning more words and increasing your vocabulary to impress me, to feel smarter, right? Well, I had to do it to prove myself. You treat the fact that I'm black like it's an afterthought, like it's happenstance. But damnit, it's an entire exclamation point! Why don't you see that?"

Sam saw her tears and swallowed his inclination to fill up the silence. Though he didn't fully get it, he knew this conversation mattered. He knew he was seeing Mercedes's truth for the first time, in its fullness.

"Sam, my blackness means that I have to come into every room hyper aware of how black I am. Because I'm black, there isn't a day that I don't have to convince folk that I'm worthy of being seen as an individual. That I deserve space and time. You get to just be yourself, to represent yourself and worry about you. I represent black folk past, present and future. Do you get that? Do you get what a responsibility that is for me? For our children?! Because, in case you didn't realize it, our children will never be white. Ever. I don't care how light they are or how much they pass and look like you. The moment I introduce myself as the one who gave them life, they carry a walking death sentence. The world doesn't care that you're their father. One drop of my blood, come from my black womb, and they carry the same burden and responsibility of my blackness. Because that's how the world works, Sam. The world we live in is eager and waiting to kill me for the very thing I'm so proud of. Our children will get pulled over, persecuted, called the real N-word to their faces, lose friends and family because they're black. We'll never have the privilege of simply ignoring it. So, if you say you love us, if you say you want to marry me and raise these babies, you have to understand that anything less than embracing my blackness is a slap in the face. And what I won't ever settle for is being 3/5ths of a partner. 3/5ths of a wife to you."

Mercedes stepped toward him, close enough to take his hand and place it over her heart. "I need you to see it all, Sam. See me. See color. Because I've spent my entire life being barely loved by people that refused to acknowledge it, and I was always left hurting. See color because that's the only way you can really know me. See it because…..I don't wanna do any of this without you. And if you want us to last, then you have to do the work. Learn about all of the things that make me so…so wonderful in your eyes." Her voice softened, quieted. "if you're going to love a black woman and build a family with her, understand that it's going to mean unlearning a lot of things. Things that don't seem racist to you, but are. Because the world we've both grown up in instructed us very differently."

They stood, suspended in a blink of time, Sam's hand still pressed to Mercedes's heart, and took each other in. Mercedes's words, like Nettie's, were dizzying.

As he processed, Sam took in broad brushstrokes of her appearance. He noted her shorter frame, barely grazing his chin, and the warm, syrupy tones of her eyes. He noted how full her lips were, as full as the rest of her body. How her chest felt silk-fragile against his palm. How the rounded tip of her nose mirrored the rounding bump of her new belly. Those three little crescent creases between her eyebrows….

…Goodness.

How could anyone see her and think that she was the one that didn't deserve him? What a beautiful soul, his Mercedes.

The thing he processed differently this time—one he'd seen many times over, but overlooked—was how the moon reflected off of her dark skin. He always knew that there was a stark difference in their coloring. His hand always looked paler next to the warmth of her brown. But the way the light hit them was so different. If they were a painting, he would blend into the moon's glow. It would romance his appearance, but most of its beauty would be absorbed, camouflaged. But, the moon pearlized her dark skin. She transformed into velvet, with a sheen that seemed to draw him in, whispering its secrets. He imagined, if he were able to look deeper, that he would discover an ancestor in each of her cells. He imagined that each ancestor had a tiny spindle, and the spindle would spin yellowed straw into beautiful gold spools. They'd spend their entire afterlives weaving together a host of memories, knotting them into the threads until they formed tiny golden tapestries.

When the light would come, their spindles spun, allowing their ancient fingers to work, and the beams bouncing off of their woven designs would come together to polish Mercedes' entire countenance.

Her black skin held tiny stories, and those stories were woven into every sharp and soft part of her being. Those golden tapestries of the ancestors glinted like tiny flecks of glitter in the moonlight, and right now, altogether, they made her existing beauty even more stunning.

His flesh had never known stories like hers. But, to ignore it, simply because it was unfamiliar to him, would be utter sacrilege. Those glittering stories woven into her black velvet skin are part of what made her so awe-inspiring.

He understood now, in one way. He understood why ignoring it was so hurtful. It's like praising the flower and cursing the roots. How could he worship her fullness and not investigate what feeds it? How could he say he loved her wholly and dismiss her parts? It wouldn't work. It wasn't working. That's what she was telling him.

If only he could share what he knew as eloquently as he said it in his head. Words always came out fucked up when he tried to express himself.

'Sam?" Mercedes asked softly, catching a flickering of awareness in his eyes.

He still had so many questions he wanted to ask, but Sam wisely chose to nod instead, replying, "I hear you."

Mercedes nodded back. "I know." She didn't smile, but she felt tons lighter. "I'm still upset with you."

"I know. And I still don't get everything."

"I know."

Sam turned his palm to take her hand, allowing it to drop and swing between them. The couple looked down at the union, faintly smiling at its familiarity.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I honestly didn't feel like I could trust you with it before. Race was always this thing we kinda talked about, but we always seemed to gloss over the hard stuff. I wanted to keep the peace and keep you happy, so I never pushed it. For a while, I thought I was happy, too. I didn't realize how much I was holding in until all of this happened." She squeezed his hand gently. "I think we both have a habit of lying to try and protect each other, but it just ends up hurting us in the end. I accused you of doing it, with Bree and working with Faith and everything, but I'm guilty of it too. For that, I'm really sorry, Sam."

He squeezed her hand gently in reply, in lieu of words. They both wanted to embrace, but the air seemed too heavy to solve this argument the way they usually did.

Sam swallowed hard, troubled by a passing thought. "Where do I start, Mercedes?"

She looked up, unclear of his question.

"I mean, I know I'm not going to learn everything today, but…. I feel like there's so much for me to learn and I'm running late on learning them. I'm not asking you to teach me, I'm just asking…. where do I start?"

Mercedes thought a moment, then released his hand and stepped away, nodding toward the door. "Nettie brought up the Black Lives Matter movement at the dinner table, right? Maybe start there and work your way backward. Look up the movement and what it means, why it started in the first place. Just make sure your sources are credible. Google is a friend if you know how to use it."

Sam gave a small laugh, smirking. "Gotcha." He noticed her nod toward the door again. "I guess that's my cue to leave, then."

Mercedes shrugged, nodding in agreement. "I think that's for the best."

Sam made his way toward the door, Mercedes following behind. He stopped in the hallway, just when Mercedes rested her hand on the doorknob. "Can I ask one more question?"

"Other than that one?" She joked, though the smile barely grazed her lips.

"Are we….do you think we're gonna be okay?"

"I…." Mercedes sighed and groaned. "I really, really hope so. Some days, I still have doubts, but…. I want this with you, Sam. I want us to work."

"Me too." He nodded slowly, hands shoved in his pockets as he dragged his foot across the doorframe.

"Can I ask you a question?" Mercedes added shyly, mirroring his body language.

"Of course. Ask me anything." He welcomed anything that would keep Mercedes talking to him.

"When did you know? You've always said that I was the one for you and that you loved me, but I've never really figured out when that started. How did you know we were meant to be together forever? How do you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

Sam smiled fully, feeling confident in his reply, for the first time in hours. "Well, when I was little, I used to pray and ask God to give me an obvious sign that he was real. Like a lightning bolt, a firebird, something. I begged for years, but it never happened. When I got older, I started thinking that maybe he only shows up in a big way when it matters most, you know? Like a life-changing moment or something. Well, one day, when I was completely wrecked from working overtime at the Dairy Queen and struggling with classes and just…..tired of living in this dingy one-bedroom motel with my parents, I started to cry and beg Him again for a sign. I just needed something to prove that things would be alright, that I had more to look forward to. I remember, I was sitting by the lockers and everyone else seemed to pass me by. No one seemed to see me. I kid you not, a second later, you walked by and said hi to me. Barely even took a second glance at me, but said hi all the same. And right then, for the first time ever in my life, I heard God speak to me, clear as day. And he said, "There's your something. I made you just for her." He smirked at the memory. "I think I've been head over heels ever since."

Mercedes listened, wide eyed the entire time. When he finished, her tears flowed unbidden, pouring straight from the pleasant tightness in her chest. She wanted to tell him how beautiful his words were, how beautiful he was to share such a thing. But beautiful seemed too small a word.

Instead, she replied, voice breaking, "Thank you, Sam."

The two shared a glossy-eyed smile, and with a final nod from Sam, Mercedes closed her bedroom door. Sam leaned his forehead against the hardwood when it closed, sighing in exhaustion as he processed the day. It took him a moment or two to think of a workable plan, but when he did, he pushed off with a determined resolve, making his way to the cold room that awaited him.

Unbeknownst to him, Mercedes's back rested against the other side of the door, contemplating her own next move. She kept staring at the half-packed duffel bag on the floor, chewing her lip as she thought, as she listened to Sam's breathing. She heard him leave and felt oddly relieved by his absence. It gave her a moment to think with some clarity, without her feelings for him getting in the way of rational thought. Another moment, and she pushed off as well, moving to unpack her duffel bag as determinedly as she'd begun to pack it.

Give him a little more time, said an inner voice. Plant your feet, Mercedes.

O-O

She woke up to an indigo sky, freckled with twinkling stars and kissed by a moon as white as fresh cream. Mercedes moved to stretch and found that the ground tickled her skin. When she looked around her, she realized that she was lying on a patch of vivid green grass, tall enough to sink into and disappear. She sniffed the air on instinct. The air smelled of moss and still water, of creeping things with slimy skin and plant life with roots hundreds of years old. She sat up and saw a lake in front of her, filled with all of the things she described. But, from where she sat, the lake in front of her seemed to extend far beyond her vision, as an ocean would. Crickets chirped a melody she knew but couldn't readily identify. As she listened, she heard footsteps crunching the grass behind her.

Mercedes wasn't afraid. The approaching scent of lemongrass and cinder were comforting and familiar.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the woman stated, announcing her presence. Mercedes turned and looked up. The psychic woman from the carnival smiled her whitest smile, hand outstretched.

"What is?"

"This world that Sam has created." She replied, gesturing to the beauty around them with her free hand. Mercedes took the mystic's hand, but found that her own resembled a golden, furry paw instead.

The mystic frowned, as if reading her thoughts. "Do you not know who you are, Madame Lioness? You don't need my hand. You don't need anyone's hand."

Mercedes stood on all four paws, trying desperately to take a good look at her body. The mystic smiled and patted her head, gently pushing behind her ear to guide her to the water.

"Come, my dear lioness. Come to the water and look at yourself. See who you are."

Mercedes moved slowly toward the water, oddly comfortable in her new stride. She paused when her paw touched the wet soil near the edge of the lake. Taking a breath, she slowly leaned in, revealing her reflection an inch at a time.

It was her and wasn't her. She recognized her eyes—in shape at least—and the small round nose. She even recognized the nibbling of her lower lip that was characteristic of her nervous self. But the silvery whiskers on her snout and rounded ears atop her lioness head were all unfamiliar.

Strangely, she still wasn't afraid. The sight in the water felt right.

"See? As it should be." The mystic smiled, stroking between Mercedes's ears. "Look at how beautiful you are."

"Why are you here?" asked Mercedes, still staring in wonder at her reflection. "Why have you come back?"

"I'm here to remind you of your roar." answered the mystic. "What is a lioness without her roar? Have you forgotten it?"

"No." Mercedes prepped her mouth the way she'd seen on the Discovery Channel, playing with how wide she should set her mouth. She took a deep breath through her nose and pushed sound forward, from her belly. The resulting 'roar' was barely a squeak.

"Oh, it's worse than I thought." The mystic sucked her teeth. "What happened to your roar, dear one? You had it when we last met."

"I did?" Mercedes turned to face her, paw touching the downy fur covering her throat. "What happened to it?"

"Perhaps it was stolen." The mystic lifted her skirts and walked hurriedly through the grass, wordlessly urging Mercedes to follow her. "Did you follow my instructions? Did you keep the world out?"

"Yes! I mean, I think so." The mystic stopped and sharply turned. Her mouth set in a frown of disapproval, but her eyes were brimming with fear.

"What does 'not letting the world in' mean anyway? You never explained it to me." The mystic remained silent, looking the lioness up and down. "Like, don't let my family get involved in my relationship? My friends?"

"Don't let the world take what you have!" The mystic screamed. "You've already done it, haven't you? Oh, Lioness…."

"Stop calling me that! My name is Mercedes. Now, what do you mean, 'Don't let the world take what I have'? What would they take?"

"Mercedes!"

Mercedes and the mystic looked off into the horizon, spotting a bull with long ivory horns and fur as white as snow. He stood out like a sore thumb amidst all of the darkness. Mercedes smiled big and ran to the bull, knowing him immediately by his squinted eyes and adorable half-smirk.

"Sam!" Once she grew near enough, Mercedes pounced, knocking the large animal on his back, into the soft ground. She licked his cheek once, then nuzzled her cold snout into his jaw.

"Mercedes." He sighed in relief; eyes alight as he took her in. Sam studied her as if he hadn't seen her in lifetimes, like she'd come back to life. "Thank God. They didn't take you away."

Mercedes frowned, rearing her head back. She resisted the urge to lick his face. "Who didn't take me away?"

The ground began to tremble. Lightly at first, but steadily growing as a billowing of dust rose from the east.

Three lions emerged from the clouds of dirt: One with bright yellow eyes and a jet black mane, growling low with teeth bared; Another, to its right, with light brown spotted fur and bright, golden eyes that appeared troubled; and the leader, the alpha, stood center, just beyond them, with a glossy grey fur and weary, black eyes. It stepped forward, glancing briefly at bull Sam before addressing Mercedes. On closer inspection, Mercedes noted the blackened skin along the soles of its paws. The fur there looked mangy and eaten away, and though the grey lioness held her head high, Mercedes spied a hapless limp, less dignified than her nature.

In her heart, Mercedes knew who they all were immediately. Her ears stood up in alarm as her heartbeat quickened. She climbed off of Sam, allowing him to stand, and greeted her matriarch with a small bow.

"Nettie."

"Sassafras, the fraternizing with this bull ends now. This will never work. Come home with your pride so we can find you a more suitable mate." Nettie demanded, eyes steely.

Mercedes shook her head. "I can't go back with you. I can't be who I was before. I love him. I wish to spend my life with him."

"And I love her." Sam echoed, moving to stand beside her. He gently nudged her back a few steps with his horn, to ensure that he would be the first hit should there be an attack.

"Our words are not with you, beast." Nettie spat, "Our words are with my granddaughter, my progeny. You may have convinced her that this interspecies foolishness could work, but you and I both know that with your pack, she will be trampled and killed. She doesn't belong there. She doesn't belong with you and she never will."

"Enough of this!" Joseph sprinted toward them and leapt forward, close enough to pounce on Sam. The bull could feel the lion's warm breath against his snout. "Mama, just give me the word and I'll tear him apart. Give me the order."

"No, Joseph." Pat ran up to flank his right, nuzzling his neck in hopes of easing his tension. "He is young, they both are. He doesn't know any better. Give him a chance. I don't believe he wishes to harm her."

"Pat, step down. You are out of place." Joseph spat through his bared teeth. When she didn't move, he sealed his command with a louder growl, startling her backward. She looked to her daughter and bowed her head, letting a single tear fall as she stood silently by.

"Come now, Mercedes." Nettie commanded again, with a toss of her head. "Shane wishes to mate with you in due season. He is suitable and you will grow to love him. Once he has taken you, none of this will matter."

"No! I don't want that! I don't want Shane!" Mercedes insisted, pressing herself to Sam's side. "I am where I belong."

Nettie sighed and limped closer. The couple inched back, expecting an attack. Instead, she licked Mercedes' cheek and nuzzled her nose. "You're too young to know what you want, Sassafras. Please trust Nettie. This will all end in heartbreak."

The mystic woman stepped forward, hands folded. "It doesn't have to, Nettie. And I believe you know that."

Nettie's sharp, black eyes zeroed in on the woman who dared to interrupt. This time, she did growl and arch low, prime to pounce on her. The mystic woman was unmoved. She took an item out of the pocket of her colorful skirt and held it toward Nettie. The grey wolf immediately whined and ran back to her pack.

"What is that?" asked Mercedes, stepping closer to examine the item in hand.

"It's your freedom," smiled the woman. "I cannot tell you exactly what it is, but I can tell you that it possesses the magic you need to change."

"Change?"

"Change." Sam chimed in, smiling at Mercedes. "That's why I came for you. The mystic woman can help us change form. Using her magic, we can become the same beast."

"The same beast?" she echoed in shock, though her heart leapt at the small offering of hope. "Forever? Is that possible?"

"It is. Whatever form you'd like us to be, that's what we'll become." Sam told her. "But, whatever we choose, we can't come back from."

Mercedes' brightened countenance fell. "Ever? I can't be a lion anymore? I can't see my family again?"

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, that's the only way."

"Think of this as a one-way trip of sorts." The mystic woman chimed in, stroking behind Mercedes's ears. "This way, you and Sam can be together forever and start your own family if you wish. Just like you've dreamed, young one."

"But I can't ever change back." Mercedes remarked, saddened by the thought. Though she hated being apart from him and knew that her being a lion remained a huge burden, it still didn't make her feel any better to change into something else permanently. Who would she be in this new form? Would she like it? And if she regretted it, would she grow to hate Sam?

"Mercedes?" Sam's gentle nuzzling brought her out of her head. "I would be changing forever, too. And I don't know who we'll be, but I know that you are worth the risk. I am willing to change forever to be with you, whatever that means. Hell, if we have to be dung beetles for all eternity, I'm down."

Mercedes offered a soft laugh. "I think dung beetles only live, like, three years."

"Well, then I guess it'll be the best three years of my life." He smiled, bopping her nose with his snout. "But seriously, please don't wish us to be dung beetles. I don't think I'd like the taste of poop in any life."

Mercedes laughed fully. "Whatever we choose, I just want to make sure that I'm with you the rest of my life and no one can separate us." The sentiment gave the lioness a brilliant idea. "Wolves! We can be wolves and imprint and be together forever!"

"Hmm, wolves, eh?" smirked Sam, "Y'know, I've always wanted to live in a forest. And do that cool growl that you cats can do."

"It'll be perfect." Mercedes grinned, turning to address the smiling mystic woman. "Can we be wolves?"

"Of course you can, my dear lioness," said her gentle voice, holding out her enchanted, glowing charm. "But before I change you, would you like to see a glimpse of your future together?"

The couple looked to each other, silently making a decision.

"Yes, please." Sam replied. The two leaned in and looked into the glowing charm. It seemed to glow brighter and rapidly change shape as the vision of their future emerged. They saw a white and black wolf, rolling around on the floor together as they laughed. The white wolf licked his mate and raised his head, howling toward the moon.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Dad, you're supposed to actually look for us before you say that." A small cub emerged from the bushes, with jet black fur and white circles around her eyes. "You and mom didn't even try!"

"How do you know we didn't try?" said the black wolf, licking her little cub. "Sam, didn't we try our hardest to find our little ones?"

"Our absolute HARDEST!" Sam exclaimed, picking up his little cub by her hide as she giggled. "And where is your other half?"

Another small cub, white with black circles around his eyes, emerged, walking less assuredly than his sister. A small little whine alerted them to his presence. Sam and Mercedes pretended to be startled, jumping up from the ground.

"Oh, my silent but deadly little wolf!" exclaimed Sam. "Mercedes, hide me! He's going to tear my fur apart!"

The little wolf giggled as his father hid behind his mother's butt. With a little shake of his head, he walked over to his mother, leaning up to get his greeting lick from her. When he did, he quickly ran over and bit the tip of his father's tail. Sam howled far more dramatically than necessary.

Two adolescent wolves leapt in from nearby boulders, growling.

"Where is he, dad?" said the elder of the two, fur jet black like Mercedes. He walked menacingly around his family, growling into the darkness as he circled them. "Where is he? I'll tear him apart!"

"I'll take the twins to safety," announced his brown, speckled sister. Her blue eyes sniffed and scanned the darkened floor for the cubs. "Gabriel, Lily, come with me. Quickly!"

"Tali, my love, relax. Your father was just pretending for your little brother's sake." Mercedes gently bit her elder son's tail, as he was still growling and baring teeth. "Rhett, there's no one. It's just your dad being silly again."

The elder two sighed and groaned, used to their father's antics.

"Dad, you can't keep doing this!"

"Tali, I'm sorry. But you should've seen your little brother!" He pushed his little cub forward, nudging underneath his chin until he raised his head. "He was so fierce and strong! I was genuinely terrified!"

Sam dramatically fell on his side, pretending to faint. The twins giggled and climbed on top of him, jumping on his belly to revive him.

"Daddy! Wake up!" giggled Lily, jumping faster. "Wake up! Wake up!"

"Up! Up! Up!" echoed her twin, tugging on the fur of his daddy's belly with his teeth.

"Can't...wake...up." Sam murmured in a high-pitched voice, still unmoving. His eyes remained closed and his tongue jutted out in the silliest way. "Need more jumps."

"Tali! Rhett! Come help us!" urged little Lily, "Come jump on Dad!"

Tali rolled her eyes, but joined in good nature, growling playfully before flopping onto her father with her full weight. Sam let out a small "oof", but still refused to wake. Mercedes laughed and turned to her remaining son, who remained unamused beside her.

"Rhett, I think they need you, baby." She gave his cheek a lick. "It always works when it's the four of you."

"I'm too old for childish games, mom. I was practicing for the hunt." He grumbled, like the moody teenager he was.

"Well, how about this. If you join in and 'help' your siblings, I will bring you and your sister out on your first hunt. Next full moon."

Rhett's ears perked up, knowing that the full moon was only three nights away. "Promise?"

"I cross my heart. If I don't follow through, you can have the first of our kill."

Rhett glanced back and forth between his mom's kind eyes and his silly, overdramatic family on the ground. Sighing in feigned defeat, Rhett gave a mischievous smirk-one identical to his father's—and pounced on the old wolf.

"Oh!" Sam groaned, half startled. "I mean, ohhhhhhhh…..where am I? What world is this? Why do I have so many little paws on me?"

"It's us, Dad." Tali deadpanned, barely hiding her enjoyment of his performance. "You fainted, so we had to bring you back to life."

"He's alive! He's alive!" Lily cheered. Gabriel smiled and gave a joyful howl, scurrying behind his sister to lick his father's face. Sam squirmed and turned his head about, fighting back a laugh.

"No, no, it's not enough! Only a kiss from a princess can wake me up."

"Hey! I AM a princess!" Lily barked.

"He means mom, dummy," chimed in Rhett, already tired of the game. "Mom! You've been summoned."

"Oh! Well, don't mind if I do." Mercedes sauntered over, slowly leaned in, and smiled before greeting her husband with her tongue, slowly licking him from the sensitive part of his neck to just below his ear. Sam's eyes popped open immediately.

"Well," he growled playfully, eyes darkening. "Hello, hello there, Princess. Fancy meeting you out here in this neck of the woods."

Mercedes giggled, flicking her tongue across his snout. "Get up, silly prince."

Sam nuzzled his wife's cheek before rising, putting back on the theatrics for his watching audience.

"I'm ALIIIIVVVEEE!"

"Yay! He's alive! He's alive!" Lily leapt about, easily excitable.

"Alive! Alive!" echoed Gabriel, before jumping on his sister's back, wrestling her to the ground. As the twins tussled, the two eldest looked at each other and shared a knowing eye roll, smiling as their parents resumed their kisses.

"They're so gross," remarked Rhett, chuckling. "C'mon, let's go back to training. Mom said that she's gonna take us hunting next full moon. I'm aiming for a rabbit this time!"

Rhett ran through the forest, back to their hunting spot. Tali stayed behind a second longer to admire her parents, rolling around and kissing like cubs her age. They were clearly still so in love, after all these years.

"I kind of like gross." She noted with a smile, shaking her head at her own sentimentality before running behind her brother.

Mercedes lifted her head, just as she landed on top of Sam. He leaned back, conceding defeat with a satisfied grin.

"Daily reminder that I love you, Sam. Thank you for choosing me."

She bowed her head as he touched his nose to hers, and the angling of their union formed the shape of a heart, with the backdrop of the moon glowing between them.

"Daily reminder that I love you, Mercedes. Thank you for saying yes.

The vision vanished, cloaked by the glow of the charm in the mystic woman's hand. She wrapped her bony fingers around the object, holding it out between the couple.

"Are we ready?"

The couple looked to each other and smiled.

"Ready."

"Ready."

"No!" Joseph leapt in and sunk his sharp teeth into his daughter's neck, just as the golden ribbons of magic wrapped around them.

"Mercedes!" Sam screamed, feeling the magic transform him before he could yell for it to stop. It began to change her, too, but she was still struggling in her father's grasp.

"The…the babies." She murmured, before everything became gold and white and blinding between them, obscuring Sam's vision.

"MERCEDES!"

Sam shot up in bed, breathing heavily and sweating in spite of the icy chill in his room. He felt around his bed, then felt his face, just to make sure that the transformation wasn't real.

He was still Sam. He was still himself. He wasn't a wolf or a bull. No magic mystic woman. No deadly bite from Mercedes' father.

Just to make sure, he flung his covers aside and tiptoed out of his room to Mercedes' door. He slowly cracked it open and held his breath, releasing it only when he saw her heavily snoring form tucked away in bed.

"Oh, thank God. Just a dream, Sam. Just a wild ass dream." Slowly closing the door behind him, Sam felt that same sense of urgency he felt earlier quicken his blood. Running off of the adrenaline of his dream and all it meant, Sam quickly ran back to his room, threw on his jacket and boots, and sprinted downstairs, making his way out the door before he could second guess his decision.

One more visit to Mrs. Lee's 24-hour pharmacy should do the trick. Hopefully, his research would help him find what he needed to save his relationship. And while he was there, it wouldn't hurt to jot down that crazy dream. That would make for one hell of a fantasy origin story….

O-O

Mercedes didn't wake from her fretful sleep until the next morning. Her body was conditioned to rise early on Sunday mornings, even on the days she didn't intend to attend service. But, as it always was after a fight with Sam, her sleep was broken and filled with odd dreams.

She couldn't remember much of her nightmarish one last night, but the heart palpitations from the feelings that wrought her remained. She'd been running at one point, in the shape of some sort of cat or wolf-like animal. She remembers trying to escape something or someone chasing her, then being tackled to the ground and slamming her head against a hard surface, blood pouring from a growing wound that made her skull throb.

She sat up in bed and stretched, still feeling the nausea and headache from her dream injuries. Even her body felt unusually achy.

"Some dream." She muttered before yawning, tossing her legs over the side of the bed. Judging from the alarm clock on her night table—the one only good for telling time, even with the batteries replaced—she only had an hour to get ready. For a diva like Mercedes, it might as well have been ten minutes.

She jumped out of bed and nearly tripped on the open duffel bag near her feet. When she stood, the wave of nausea grew stronger, and she ran to the bathroom for an entirely different reason.

"Fuck pregnancy." She groaned over the toilet, flushing it as her body flopped over the closed seat. It was exhausting and painful and totally not worth the hype. She'd heard pregnant women mention "morning sickness for a few months" like it was a short inconvenience. Bull. She wanted to rip out her uterus and set it aside until the babies were born. Her esophagus felt like it was lined with acid.

And worst of all, Sam wasn't here to rub her back and remind her that this was all a miracle somehow.

After a few minutes of nearly falling asleep again on her knees, Mercedes shook herself awake again and made quick work of her hair and makeup routine. Though Christmas Sunday was usually a glamorous affair at her church, Mercedes had already made up in her mind that they would have to settle for her 'everyday' makeup look this time around.

Glossed, curled, and powdered, Mercedes brushed her teeth for a second time, hoping to get the rancid taste out of her mouth. Looking at her growing figure in the mirror, she groaned when she noticed that her belly seemed more visible than the day before.

"How the hell is that possible?" She rubbed and gently prodded her stomach, freaked out by the notion of possible multiples growing in there. What would that even look like?

She typed triplet pregnancy into her phone as she brushed, perusing the images. All of the stomachs looked red, angry, stretch-marked and near bursting from the small torpedo hiding under their skin. Oh god, is that gonna be me? She'd never recover! What about her image? Her career? If her belly grew that large, there was no way that she could pass it off as anything close to cute, with or without a Valentino gown.

She turned her phone down on the counter and quickly rinsed her mouth, realizing that her hour had quickly become thirty minutes. By the time she was fully dressed—decked out in a floor length emerald green wrap dress that (thank God) flattered her belly—Mercedes was surprised to find that she had ten minutes to spare.

It was then that she remembered that Sam hadn't been "churched" like her. He could very well be sleeping still, unaware of the black thunderstorm of yelling voices that awaited him.

"Sam?" She padded over to his bedroom, heels in hand, and gently knocked on the door. Hearing no response, she knocked louder. Her concern grew when she pressed her ear to the door and still didn't hear any movement. Jiggling the doorknob, she found that it was unlocked and decided to barge in, for his own well-being.

They may not be on the greatest terms as a couple, but Mercedes for damn sure wasn't gonna subject Sam to the wrath of Nettie on a Sunday morning. Even she, being Nettie's favorite, had been on the receiving end of it in her early years. It was uglier than her scene last night.

"Sam?" Mercedes shuddered from the chill in the air and felt along the wall for a light switch. She flipped it on and immediately panicked, noting that Sam's bed was made and his jacket and boots were gone.

Oh god, did he leave? Are we over? He said he wouldn't leave again without telling me, but maybe? God, no, maybe he's downstairs having breakfast. Yeah, that makes the most sense. I'll text him.

She took out her phone and typed as quickly as her fingers would allow. Sam, where are you? Are you downstairs?

A minute too long later, he replied. Out. I'll be back soon. Meet you at church.

Panic rose in her throat again, but she fought to remain calm. She couldn't overreact. When she felt stressed, she always needed a bit of space to clear her head. Sam deserved the same. It didn't make his decision hurt any less, but she was working on being more selfless in this relationship.

Okay. Call me when you arrive. I love you.

His reply took longer than the first. Ditto. I'll be back soon.

"Ditto? He never replies ditto." Her phone buzzed and shook suddenly, frightening her. She picked up immediately, hoping it was Sam calling to amend things.

"Sam?"

"No, Bree. Sorry to disappoint." The woman's voice was pleasant enough, but it wasn't the voice Mercedes needed to hear to calm down. "Is everything okay? You sound shaky."

"Things have been better," sighed Mercedes, dropping the heels in her hand to slip her feet into them. "What's up, Bree?"

"Well, I received a text from you a while ago." Mercedes frowned, nearly tripping as she worked her heel into her left shoe. "You sent it to our group text, the one with you, me and Sam. We had it when you guys were coming by the art studio. Y'know, before you left for the airport."

"Oh! Oh, right. Sorry. I meant to text only Sam." Mercedes blushed. She could feel the questions coming.

"Soooo…..everything okay? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't human and read them." After a pause, Bree added, "I'd be lying even more if I said that I wasn't worried about you."

For some reason, the sentiment opened Mercedes right up. She began to sniffle and cry before she could attempt to hide it.

"Whoa, what's going on? Talk to me, please?" Bree begged, switching the phone to her dominant ear. Her voice grew soft, honeyed. "Mercy, what's going on? Are you and Sam okay?"

"No." Mercedes sniffled, chuckling humorlessly, 'No, I don't think so. Well, I don't really know. Last night, I thought we might be okay, but this morning…."

"This morning, what?"

"He left. He just up and left like last time. No note or call. Nothing." Mercedes swiped underneath her eyes, rendering her makeup a lost cause. "We had a fight last night, and….well, he had a fight with my family, my grandmother first, and…."

"Woah, what? What happened there?"

Mercedes sighed, moving to sit on Sam's bed. The scent of his cologne wafting from the sheets trapped another sob in her throat. "It's a really long story, Bree. And I have to get ready for church."

"Well, look, I know we're not the closest yet. And I know that we've had some trust issues between us, you and me. But, it sounds like you desperately need an ear right now and I'd like to be that for you. You can't possibly go to church ready to sob every two minutes."

The thought made Mercedes laugh a bit. Bree smiled with pride, gently adding, "I'd like to be a friend to you too, Mercedes. I think this might be as good a start as any. Please let me in. I might have some abject wisdom to share."

Mercedes off-handedly remembered that Bree had been in a long-lasting relationship once, and suddenly, the floodgates opened. She told her about every moment that happened since they'd set foot in Ohio. She told her about the treehouse, the lake, the ominous feeling she'd gotten about it all. She told her about her grandmother's prejudices and her father's coldness, about the slip-up sex and the subsequent awkward dinner thereafter. Most of all, woven into each of her retellings, she shared her thoughts and fears about it all, even more than she did with Sam or her mother or anyone else. She told Bree everything that has been pressing itself against her chest since the moment she got on the plane to come here. Even Donovan, though he was safely tucked away in jail, had been a part of her fears about returning. If she were honest, Donovan especially. He's been a part of everything in her life lately, as much as she tried to shake him loose.

"Uh…wow." Bree blew out a long breath. "Okay, wow. Okay. Okay, so…..alright."

"You've already said that." smiled Mercedes, feeling strangely buoyant after unloading everything. She found the older woman's fumbling oddly funny.

"Yeah, I know." She laughed, and though Mercedes couldn't see, Bree cupped a hand over her blushing cheek, attempting to hide it. "I'm sorry, it's just how I process. Okay, so if I have everything straight, Sam's trying to impress your grandmother, but he's failing terribly, Your dad's being a brooding teenager because you won't do what he wants, your mom is just, like, sweet and kind and an older version of you, you're pregnant and not sure if you want to keep it and you and Sam are fighting because he talked out of his ass at the dinner table. Sound right?"

"Yeah! Wow, yeah, basically." She'd never heard her story so perfectly summed up before. "And he's not getting where I'm coming from. At least I don't think he is. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's definitely trying. It's just…. these babies are coming sooner rather than later and I can't have children with someone that doesn't fully love them, you know?" Hearing a pause from the other end, Mercedes quickly clarified, "I mean, I know he loves them, because they're our children and he loves me and wants a family. I'm just afraid that he won't know how to love the parts of them that don't resemble him."

"The black parts? Your parts?"

Mercedes, nibbling the corner of her lip, nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"Do you think that he fully loves your black parts?" Mercedes didn't know how to respond yet, so she said nothing. "Look, since we're sharing, I'll admit that when my…. when the girl that I was seeing…..my girlfriend, when we were dating when my husband was away," Bree closed her eyes and quietly huffed, relieved herself to say such a thing out loud for the first time. "She was black, too. Well, mixed. Biracial. I didn't think it bothered me, but in small ways, it did. It bothered me because I knew that, as much as I loved her, there would be parts of her life that I couldn't relate to. We weren't 100% perfect matches, not the way I saw it in my head I mean. I thought having a soulmate meant that everything would be the same."

"How did you figure out how to love her?" Mercedes sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "How did you make it work?"

"I had to learn and accept that love is constant work. It wasn't this "two halves finding a whole in each other' fantasy that I'd grown up with. It was work. If I loved her, I had to see her as a whole, independent person, separate from me. I had to realize that the parts that made her different were beautiful in our relationship because they helped me grow, just like my differences helped her grow. It's not two halves becoming whole, it's two wholes becoming something greater than themselves when they're together. That's the point. That's the work."

Mercedes nodded again, moving to lay down and rest her head on Sam's pillow. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

"And, if you don't mind me saying? I think that Sam might've come into this relationship the way I did, with that romantic notion of what love is. Sure, he's definitely willing to work, I'll give him that. Hell, he's probably one of the hardest working men I've ever met when it comes to love. I adore that about him." Mercedes and Bree smiled at the sentiment. "But, I think the conversations with Nettie and you made him realize that that ideal….wasn't a real thing. That's a lot for an optimist like Sam to process in 24 hours."

Mercedes looked to the ceiling, eyes trained on a small, brown water stain seeping through the beige paint. "So what should I do, Bree? How can I help him?"

"Well, for me, it took time. I couldn't rush through it. I had to learn and grow on my own. Then, whatever I found in that individual discovery, I'd bring back to my relationship. And that ultimately made us stronger."

"What do I do in the meantime, Bree?" she asked, desperate for some sort of blueprint to follow.

"If I were to give you any advice, I'd say this: Stop seeing yourself as one half of Samcedes. Start seeing yourself as your own person. Figure out what you want and what's best for you. Because, as much as this hurts you both now, it sucks way worse to be in a relationship for a few years and realize that you don't know yourself at all. Who are you in relationships, apart from Sam? What do you need from love? What do you want? And most importantly, are you a whole person if Sam isn't in the picture?"

The last question struck a chord with Mercedes. "I don't know who I am without him anymore."

Bree nodded, saddened by the lost tone in her normally assured voice. "That might be the real problem, honey. I know you don't want to face that, but it might be your answer."

"MERCEDES!"

Mercedes shot up in bed, quickly straightening her clothes and gathering herself. "I gotta go. Thank you for this, Bree. I'll keep you posted."

"Glad I could help, babe. Call anytime."

Mercedes hung up and ran to her bathroom, checking her makeup. Thankfully, all of the cosmetic damage could easily be repaired in the car on the way to church. She quickly re-lined her lips and touched up her gloss, blotting on the back of her hand.

"MERCEDES! C'MON, WE'RE ALREADY RUNNING BEHIND!"

"COMING!" She gathered her purse and sprinted down the stairs, skidding to a halt when she encountered her parents and Nettie waiting near the last step.

Nettie was dressed in a deep purple skirt suit-her signature color-with an enormous wide brimmed hat to match. Bonita, her tighter curled wig, adorned her head, decorated with a few salted curls here and there to give a 'distinguished' look. Her mother, in a red dress similar to her dinner attire from yesterday, had a snow-white shawl elegantly draped across her chest, pinned in place by her shoulder with a bejeweled broach in the shape of a decorated Christmas wreath. Her hair, swept up in a severe bun, made her face look more angular and serious. Her father's cologne greeted her before his black pinstripe suit ever could. He wore his usual air of disdain, crisp in his white dress shirt, black alligator loafers and cufflinks. The bible in his hands, usually a rich brown color, had its own black covering to match his, with the words "Instruction book for Man" inscribed on the outside, in an elegant white cursive.

None of them looked pleased by her lateness.

"Sassafras, you know we have to be out that door no later than 7:30! And look at you! You already missed breakfast and your face is half done? Let's go. We ain't got no more time to dally. You'll have to do it in the car." Nettie moseyed her way out the door, expecting her family to follow behind her as she spoke. Joseph sprinted out to help break her fall when she nearly slipped on an icy patch on the walkway. "Joseph, I done told you to salt this walkway before it turns to ice! Nearly caught my death just now!"

"Yes, Ma'am." Joseph groaned and followed behind her, offering his elbow to escort her to the car, lest she break a hip and blame him for all eternity.

"Where's Sam?" asked Pat, looking over her daughter's shoulder curiously.

"He's…out." Mercedes answered, knowing the vague reply wouldn't be enough to satisfy her mother.

"Out? What do you mean, out? In this weather?"

"He stepped outside to get some air and think. He gets like that sometimes." Mercedes was already felt her frustration about everything returning from this conversation. Her heart started to race again. "Mom, can we please talk about this later? We're already so late and Nettie's gonna have our heads if we don't go soon."

She walked past her mother and gathered her coat before Pat could answer, just as Joseph made his way back to the door.

Mercedes moved to exit, startled when her father offered his elbow.

"I don't want you to fall. It's slippery out here." He offered as reasoning, refusing to meet her eyes. She took it, near robotically, and allowed him to escort her down the steps. Once they made it past the slippery portion of the walkway, she quickly un-linked their arms.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones." she offered, a bit too formally for her own liking, but polite all the same. "I appreciate it."

"Mercedes…"

She opened the passenger door and shut it before he could finish, buckling her seatbelt and refusing to give him a second glance through the window.

Joseph sighed, running a hand over his face before returning to retrieve his wife. This time, when he offered his elbow, he could smile.

"You look lovely, baby."

"Thank you." She nodded, smiling delightedly from the compliment as she linked arms with him. "Did you apologize to Mercedes yet? Like we talked about?"

"Not yet. She wouldn't give me a chance."

"Figures." Pat chuckled, "You two are more alike than you realize, that's why."

"What you mean by that?"

"Stubborn as all get-out. Bull-headed." She daintily walked down the steps, nearly on her tip toes in her red-bottomed pumps. "Just Jackass and Jackass Jr., both of you."

"You calling me names now? This is Sunday, the Lord's day." He reminded her, hinting at her foul language.

"Yes, it is. Which means, today of all days, I shouldn't lie." Joseph took her hand and guided her to the passenger side door. Before he could reach to open it, Pat pressed her hand to the door, preventing him.

"I mean it, Joseph. Apologize sooner rather than later. You hear me?" she warned, gesturing between them with her finger for emphasis.

"Pat, you know that girl. She's been a hard nut to crack lately."

"Yes, and that all started because of the mess you made." Joseph sighed, shaking his head and looking to the floor. "Joseph, look at me." He obeyed. "We're going to be grandparents soon. You hear me? Our baby is going to have a baby." When she heard him groan, Pat added, a bit louder, "Now, you may not approve of how it happened or when, but it's happening. And Joseph? Please hear my heart when I say this. If you don't get this right with our daughter and I lose the chance to meet my first grandchildren? You're setting yourself up to lose more than just Mercedes."

Joseph frowned, affronted. "Is that a threat?"

"No." Pat opened her own door, pausing before entering, "It's a promise."

"Y'all, come on! Service starts in twenty minutes and we're already late for the good seats!" Nettie chastised from the front seat. "Now, you know all of the heathens come and fill up the pews on Christmas Sunday. We got to go! I want to be as upfront as possible, where I can hear the word and be seen!"

Pat closed the passenger door, sharing a pointed look with her husband as she did so. Joseph took a deep breath and jogged to the driver's side. With a quick fastening of seatbelts and prayer for traveling mercies, they were on the road and well on their way.

O-O