Glee Fic: Family Ties (Mercedes/Sam, PG)

[bana05]

Title: Family Ties
Author: bana05
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5005
Characters/Pairings: Mercedes/Sam, glee club, Evans Family
Spoilers: All of Glee thus far.
Disclaimer: Glee ain't mine, unfortunately; otherwise, Mercedes would have a harem.
Summary: It's good to be home, but Sam learns something about his family that isn't good.
Author Notes:  Twenty Three of the "Then Came You" series. Rating for naughty words. Please forgive errors and enjoy!

Sam pulled Mercedes into a tight hug, his lips pressed against crocheted cap atop her head. She smelled of coconuts from the oil she used in her hair and her own unique scent, and it made him hungry for something other than his grandma's cooking awaiting him in Tennessee.

They were at curb in front of his airport terminal in Columbus, the Jones family having offered to drop him off there since they were on their way to Arkansas anyway to for Thanksgiving with her grandparents as well. Sam was flying directly into Memphis since his parents would already be there for their own Thanksgiving celebration, and he and Mercedes had spent the better part of the past two weeks trying to figure out how to meet up during their brief break. In fact, the only reason Sam wasn't riding down with the Jones family outright was because his ticket had been bought months in advance.

"I wish we could spend Thanksgiving together," Sam admitted, rubbing her back with his wide palms.

"Thanksgiving is for family, and you've been without yours for a while, boo," she reminded him gently.

You're part of my family, he wanted to say, but just kissed the top of her head again instead.

"But, seriously, you think they'd go for it?" Mercedes asked after a moment.

Mercedes and Sam had each been enticing their parents for a night on the town on Beale Street Friday night. Where Mercedes' family was in Arkansas wasn't far from Memphis; it could definitely be done.

"I hope so," Sam said, pulling back to look into her gorgeous brown eyes. He grinned and she returned it. "I think they should get to know each other more, don't you?"

Mercedes chuckled nervously and looked behind her where her brother, who was definitely an adult considering he was twenty, pulled silly faces at them through the window. Sam laughed.

"We better go. We still have hours and the sky jocks are giving us the evil eye from taking up a prime unloading space."

Sam didn't care about that and kissed her nose. "We'll see each other, lady."

"Yes."

"I'll call when I arrive."

"Please," she said, hugging him close again. "And do not eat all of Stacy's and Stevie's cookies! You know they'll tell me if you did!"

He'd put those cookies deep in his carryon for a reason; Stevie would never let him hear the end of it if those cookies didn't make it to Memphis.

Uncaring her family was watching them avidly from their SUV, Sam pressed a soft kiss to Mercedes' lips and cheered when she didn't pull away.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Sam."

He remained on the curb until the Jones family pulled off with a honk and didn't stop waving until the SUV was out of sight. Despite the craziness of Thanksgiving travel, Sam's experience getting through security was relatively easy. He still had hours to go before his flight took off, but he didn't mind. He had his mp3 player and Boondocks: Because I Know You Don't Read the Newspaper by Aaron McGruder, given to him by Micah so he could "educate himself". Mercedes had tried to get Sam not to take it, but Sam accepted the loan in good faith.

"Some of the jokes you won't get, but that's okay," Micah had said once the exchange had been made. "And if you lose or mar this book in any way, unpleasantness will descend upon you."

"Stop threatening my boyfriend," Mercedes had snapped, resting against the window with her eyes closed. She'd flipped her brother off when Micah had stuck his tongue out her, but the grin she'd sported dulled whatever sting could've been made.

"I don't know how you put up with her," Micah had teased. "Bossy lil' thang, always has been."

"She kinda grew on me, I dunno," Sam had teased back, yelping slightly when Mercedes kicked his seat from where he was sitting on the second row. She and her brother had taken up the back row.

Sam could tell Micah was trying to get used to the fact his baby sister had a real boyfriend, and a white one at that, but Sam liked him. He knew he'd be the same way when Stacy started dating.

Which would be never.

Sam smirked to himself and got as comfortable as he could in the tiny terminal chairs. His personal bag of cookies was in his lap and he nibbled on one as he turned on his mp3 player and started reading the comic. It was different from the traditional one, far more political and sometimes uncomfortably so, but he did catch himself chuckling every now and again. He figured he should "educate" himself more on this, especially with what had been going on at McKinley ever since "The Incident".

For example, it'd taken Mercedes almost a whole week to let go of her scarf and expose her cut. Sam and Santana had flanked her as they walked through the halls, shielding her as best they could from the stares and snickers. Quinn had hugged her tight and gushed while Puck and Finn had almost gotten their hands ripped off when they'd tried to touch her hair.

"I've told Puck but I'mma tell you, Finn," Mercedes had said while bending back their thumbs. "Don't you ever in your life try to touch a black woman's hair without her permission!"

"Yes! We won't!" they'd assured her frantically, and Finn had collapsed against the lockers once she'd freed them while Puck tried to find solace in Lauren's bosom. This was all ridiculously funny when seconds later, Kurt bounded up and immediately caressed her short, curly cut.

"Hey!" they'd exclaimed, indignant.

"Immunity," Kurt had said simply. "And I love it! Miss Renée is a goddess!"

"Oh, goodness, now I'm obligated to tell her that," Santana had groaned good-naturedly.

"Well, I love it," Rachel had said, linking her arm through Mercedes'. "My aunt Thelma has he hair like that, but a little longer, and when I was younger I would ask my dad why my hair can't do like Aunt Thelma's…then again, I'd also asked why his and her tans lasted longer than mine's but that's a whole other story-"

"When did you have that conversation? Yesterday?" Santana had snarked.

"You are not funny," Rachel had insisted.

"Hilarious!" Santana had disagreed, her eyes narrowing. "And if you mention a pole again, I'll shove one up your-"

Mercedes and Quinn had slapped their hands over Santana's mouth, Lauren whining for Santana to finish what she said so she could see a good girl fight.

"I was cheated out of one the last time and I'm feenin'," Lauren had said with a pout.

Mr. Schuester had tried to talk about what had happened, but both Santana and Mercedes had shaken their heads and insisted they focus on their set list for Sectionals. And when Mr. Schue had started to suggest the Boys v. Girls Showdown for that week, Tina and Artie had requested they push it back until after Sectionals so they could be as prepared as possible.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'd prefer an out-and-out win this year, for once," Artie had said.

"Exactly," Tina had added. "We can throw down later!"

With the rehearsals, standardized testing, and college applications going on, many days Sam didn't know what was up from down; but he kept his eyes on Mercedes and noticed her shrinking a little whenever she walked the halls, especially if he weren't with her. She'd try to make herself small, invisible, which was the complete opposite of how he thought she should be. He hadn't heard or seen anything that would make her do that; yet he didn't know how to approach her about it, and didn't have time to do so, either, since the Thanksgiving holiday had been looming. That was why he was so adamant they find a time to get together in Memphis, on more neutral and comfortable territory of "home"towns and Southern comfort foods.

The first person to greet him upon touching down in Memphis was Stacy, who all but launched herself into his arms. The tears that sprang into his eyes at the sight of her took him aback, but he clung to her almost as tightly as she clung to him.

"I've missed you, Sammy," she whispered.

"You, too, honey," Sam said, kissing Stacy's temple for a long, sweet moment.

Stevie's hug was just as hard, except his immediate question after greeting Sam was about Mercedes' cookies. Finally his parents hugged him, Sam giving a particularly long one to his mother, and his father ruffled his hair affectionately. They all looked healthy and far more content than they'd ever had last year, and Sam's heart became light.

"I love y'all," he declared.

"Oh, Sam," his mother whispered, pulling him into another hug. "We love you too."

It took a while for them to leave the parking garage because Stacy and their mom fought over the fact she couldn't sit in Sam's lap on the way to Grammy and Grappy's house. She did get the middle seat and snuggled into him instead, and Sam's face didn't lose its smile the entire ride there. The family was staying in the home, which meant he'd have to sleep on the pullout couch downstairs, but he didn't mind. As much as he was happy to be in Lima with his friends, he'd missed his family like crazy.

The house smelled like Thanksgiving upon entering it, and his paternal grandparents greeted him with large smile, laughs, and hugs. Sam had to lean low so his Grammy could kiss his cheeks while his Grappy, though slightly stooped with old age, still seemed to tower over him even though they were practically the same height.

"You look good, Sammy!" Grappy said, slapping his shoulder. Sam winced; Grappy still had the strength of several bulls, it seemed.

"So do you, Grappy!" Sam said, hugging his grandfather nevertheless.

"We Evans have some good genes, don't we, boy?" Grappy asked, winking at Sam's father who sighed with amusement.

"Dad…"

Sam pulled out the cookie tin and Stevie and Stacy attacked it at once. His grandparents looked at them in confusion while his parents laughed.

"He's been talking about these cookies since they got into the house," Grammy said on a chuckle. "And Stacy's been talking about this Mercedes person? A new friend in that singing group of yours?"

"She's not 'new'," Sam said, gasping slightly as he pulled out his phone to send a quick text to Mike saying he'd made it to Memphis before dialing Mercedes. "She was always in the group. I have to call her; her family gave me a ride to the airport."

"Oh, yes, let them know you made it safely!" Grammy said, squeezing his bicep as he handed him a mug of hot apple cider. He barely said hello to Mercedes before Stacy snatched the phone from his ear and began chattering a million miles a minute. Sam rolled his eyes but let his sister have at it, moseying into the kitchen to see if there was anything he could do to help.

"Sit and relax," his mother said, pulling out a chair at the breakfast table. "You do look good, Sam. You look happy."

"The only way I could be happier is if y'all were with me," Sam said, kissing his mother's forehead.

"And Quinn, how's she?" Grammy asked. "Such a pretty girl. I bet she was glad you decided to stay, huh?"

Sam chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, Grammy, she was; but we're not dating anymore-just really good friends now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that; but don't give up! She'll come around," Grammy encouraged.

"I think she's interested in someone else, which is great because he's an awesome guy," Sam said. "And I'm with someone else too."

"Oh, who?" Grammy asked, spinning around and clapping her hands, of which one was still holding a spatula. "Do you have a picture?"

"On my phone," Sam said, nodding his head to where his sister was still talking away.

"It's that Mercedes gal, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, his smile automatic and wide. "She's actually in Forrest City! That's where her parents are from. We wanted to see if our families could meet up-can we? Please?"

His father laughed and patted his shoulder. "Didn't you just see her today?"

"I know…"

"What's she like?" Grappy asked even as he nudged his son with his elbow. "Sammy sounds an awful lot like you did a long time ago-!"

"What do you mean 'a long time ago'?" Grammy asked with mock confusion. "He still sounds that way!"

Sam laughed at his mother's blush and his father's unapologetic preening as he hugged his wife from behind and kissed her temple.

"Mercedes would babysit for us," his mother explained. "Started a traditional cookie night even. If Sam hadn't seen her first, I think Stevie would be asking her to marry him!"

"He'll have to settle for her being his sister-in-law instead," Sam said.

"Oh, you!" Grammy gently chastised, whipping the hand towel in his direction. "At least you're quicker about it than your father. We knew he was in love with your mother for years!"

"I figured it out eventually!" his father called in his defense, and his mother laughed, kissing his jaw. Sam grinned down into his lap, more amused than embarrassed by his parents.

Stevie ran into the kitchen with Sam's phone held out in front of him.

"You wanna talk to Mercedes?"

Sam scoffed at him for asking such a silly question and took the phone. "Hey, lady."

"Hey, Sam! I'm glad to hear the cookies made it!"

"It was touch and go for a while, but they managed to pull through!" Sam teased.

Mercedes laughed and sighed. "All right, we still have a few hours to go, and it'll be late when we pull in so I'll text you, okay?"

"All right. Safe travels, Mercedes."

"Thanks. Bye!"

"Bye," he said, ending the call. Not even five seconds later he got a text from Mercedes.

I love you!

He grinned more and texted the same in reply.

"Care to show us that picture now, Sammy boy?" his grandmother asked.

Sam's smile widened and he nodded, flipping through his phone's photo album to find a really good one. He settled on their homecoming photo and gave the phone to his Grappy. Eyebrows shot up foreheads, making him raise his own eyebrow, but then he gasped and asked for the phone back.

"I have video!" he said excitedly, then flipped to one of their glee club rehearsals and played one where Mercedes and Artie were singing The Jeffersons theme song after Santana had called her Wheezy yet again. Santana had eventually joined in, and then Artie started doing an old rap by Nelly called "Batter Up".

"Actually, it's the St. Lunatics featuring Nelly, but that was Nelly's crew so whatever," Artie had explained when Sam had wanted to download the song for himself. It was on his mp3 player now and had, as of yet, avoided the dreaded "Skip" button.

"She's certainly talented," Grappy said, especially when his siblings rushed into the room to watch the video with them.

"You have more of Mercedes singing, Sammy?" Stacy asked.

"No, I had to delete the others to make space for my SAT prep videos."

"Didn't you take the test already?" his mother asked.

"Yeah…just in case, though…"

"Have more faith in yourself," Grammy said, clucking her tongue. "You're a smart boy-"

"Book learnin' ain't the only learnin' that matters, son," his Grappy added, letting Stacy take control of the cell phone again.

The conversation shifted from Mercedes and himself as his siblings showed him much of what they'd been doing that year in school. His mother and grandmother wouldn't let him help in the kitchen, either…or rather, help himself to some of the food being prepared.

"Aw! No love, Grammy?" he asked, kissing her temple.

"I can love you and say no to you, Samson Evans," Grammy chastised, but accepted his kiss all the same.

"Mercedes says the same thing-"

"Good!" his mother exclaimed, nodding her head emphatically. "I knew there was a reason I liked her."

"Mo-om!"

"It's a feat to be sure," his mother insisted, squeezing Sam's chin maternally. "So hard to say no to such an adorable face!"

"Mama!"

Laughing, his mother kissed a corner of his mouth and winked before going back to her task.

"So you think she loves you?" Grammy asked, her tone deceptively light.

Sam nodded. "Weren't you just saying an hour ago how much like Dad I sounded?"

"Yes, but who's to say she feels the same? You sounded much more excited when you were with that Quinn girl. She was so pretty, too, good Christian girl."

"I go to church with Mercedes sometimes," Sam said.

His Grammy dropped the spoon she'd been using to stir her pot. "Really? You still can't go to Quinn's church?"

"Quinn goes with me to Mercedes' church sometimes. Quinn stayed with Mercedes when she was pregnant."

Grammy whirled around at that. "She was pregnant?"

"Yes," Sam said, his jaw grown tight, refusing to say anything more about the matter. Grammy picked upon this, for she let the discussion drop.

Of all things they had pizza for dinner that night since most of the food was for Thanksgiving the next day. His siblings demanded he tuck them in, and he climbed into the bed they shared and sung them a lullaby to sleep. When he went back to the living area, his parents and grandparents were up watching television, so he sat next to his mother and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Out like lights are they?" she asked, combing her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah."

"I love you, Sammy boy," she said, dropping a kiss against his forehead.

"I love you, too, Mama," he said.

"You really look good. And the Changs love having you there," his father said. "Your grades are much more improved over last year too."

"I live with a Brainiac; that helps!" Sam said on a laugh. The rest laughed with him.

"When do you get your SAT scores back?"

"Actually any day now online," Sam said, shuddering. "I'd rather not look at them until after tomorrow…"

"You did fine," his father said with a nod. "I know it. Between Mike and Mercedes and the rest of the club, I'm sure you aced it."

Sam shrugged but couldn't deny the little ball of hope glowing in his gut. Mercedes had prayed with him and given him a wonderful pep talk and kiss to the cheek before they'd taken the test. Afterwards, he, she, Mike, Finn, Artie, and Lauren had all gone to lunch and jokingly bemoaned the fact they were never getting into college.

"I'm not taking it again," Mercedes had announced.

"Yeah, you are," Lauren had said with a snort. "We have the SAT IIs, remember?"

"I don't," Sam had declared. "The Is are quite enough, thank you!" Finn had slapped his hand in agreement, for he wasn't taking the SAT IIs, either.

"But football recruiting? Any offers yet?" Grappy asked, bringing Sam back to the present.

Sam shrugged. There certainly hadn't been many college coaches coming to McKinley, but that didn't mean Coach Beiste hadn't been sending out tape. McKinley had never been on the college radar because its squad had been so bad; but if they could get another championship, maybe a few colleges would be interested…maybe enough to offer some scholarships.

He could really use some.

"Tennessee wants you," Grappy said.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not good enough to get a scholarship to Tennessee, Grappy."

"Pft," Grappy intoned. "Tell your coach to send your tape to Knoxville. I'm sure you'll get some offers!"

"They focus more on Ohio schools-"

"I'll be damned if you're a Buckeye, boy!" Grappy said and harrumphed. Sam shook his head fondly. "SEC conference is the best in the country! Play in Knoxville, son! Grappy ever steer you wrong?"

"No, Grappy, never."

"Good. Tennessee…"

Talk of football waned in favor of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and food the next morning. His sister had jumped on him that morning to wake him up, almost crushing the cell phone that had been resting on his chest after late-night texting sessions with Mike & Mercedes. Upon checking the condition of his device, Sam smiled at all of the "Happy Thanksgiving!" texts he'd received.

Stacy settled in his lap while Stevie leaned heavily against his side as they finished watching the parade. Just before Santa made his appearance, his mother called for them to set the table, so Sam volunteered to do it by himself so his siblings could watch the man of the hour. His mouth watered at the sight of fluffy, homemade buttermilk biscuits, a great bowl of cheese grits, two platters full of sausage and breakfast chicken patties, and two carafes of orange juice and a pitcher of water.

"Stop droolin' over the food, boy!" his Grappy teased with a strong clap to the back.

Sam laughed and hugged his grandfather. "Smells and looks so good! Can't wait!" And his stomach growled on that cue, making everyone laugh.

It was the perfect lazy day outside of the kitchen's hubbub full of eating and fellowshipping, and his favorite (and only) uncle and his partner arrived about an hour before the meal was to begin. Seth Evans almost looked identical to Sam's father despite the five years his dad had on him, and his partner was a lanky redhead who indulged Sam in "Impression Battles". Stevie and Stacy had immediately started cheering at their appearance, unable to wait for the next battle that would no doubt start around the dinner table.

"It's nice to see you again, Samson," Paul, Seth's partner, said in Megatron's voice.

"I wish I could say the same, but that would be a lie," Sam returned with a Darth Vader impression. His siblings squealed and demanded more.

"Couldn't wait to get to the table this time, eh?" Seth asked, hugging his eldest nephew.

"That was just the warm up!" Sam said, slapping Paul's hand in greeting.

Thanksgiving meal started off wonderfully. Grammy made everyone say what they were grateful for, and there were few dry eyes when his mother explained how grateful she was to God for allowing their family to find their footing again, even if it meant some temporary separation. When it was his turn, Sam was surprised by how tight his throat had become and had to settle on saying he was grateful for having the best family and friends a person could ever want.

Stevie was last, and he was even more succinct than Sam-"Family, friends, and Mercedes' cookies!"

Stacy squealed with laughter and Sam rolled his eyes, nudging his brother with his elbow.

Grappy nodded seriously. "They're really quite good."

"Are they for dessert?" Paul asked.

"I managed to hide a few," Sam's mother replied. "We'll make sure you two get some!"

"Cookies and Mama's sweet potato pie! Can we just skip the meal and-?"

"You're not funny, Seth," Grammy said, eyeing her youngest child as she started passing dishes around.

"Who is Mercedes?" Paul asked, rubbing his partner's back at his mock pout.

"Sammy's girlfriend!" Stacy said with a smirk.

"What happened to Quinn?" Seth asked.

"We broke up but we're still very close," Sam said.

"Oh, that's unfortunate; I thought she was really pretty," Paul said.

"Don't be; we work better as platonically," Sam insisted. "We were both in a place last year, but we're better now."

"It's the cookies," Stevie said sagely.

Seth arched an eyebrow. "I hope he means actual cookies, nephew."

Sam rolled his eyes again, not even about to respond to that.

"Well, this girl looks nothing like Quinn," Grammy said, taking the piece of turkey her husband had just carved for her. "She can sing, though; I'll give her that."

"And bake," Grappy said distractedly, trying to saw off the turkey leg for Stevie.

"Singing and baking-I think you've found a winner, Sammy!" his grandmother said on a chuckle as she spooned the green bean casserole onto her plate.

Something about his grandmother's tone rubbed Sam the wrong way, and he flicked his eyes to his father, who gave an imperceptible shake of his head. Sam took the cue and held his tongue.

"Mercedes sings me lullabies," Stacy announced. "Sometimes after I talk to Sam I call her so she can sing me to sleep."

Sam's eyes widened. "I didn't know that!"

Stacy nodded excitedly. "Yeah, especially when you first moved back to Ohio; she called me to see if I was okay and we'd talk and then she'd sing me to sleep. She made sure Mama was there so someone could hang up the phone."

He looked to his mother, who gave a small smile and shrug of her shoulders. Sam could feel a dopey grin forming but he didn't care. His lady was amazing.

"That's nice of her," Grammy said absently. "Is she trying to be a singer when she graduates?"

"I think it would be amazing if she were," Sam said. "She's so good-I get chills every time she sings."

"Hey, when's your next concert? Maybe we'll come hear you perform," Seth offered.

"In a week!" Sam said with a slight shiver as he thought about Sectionals. "Real nervous but real excited. I think we can take sectionals again…"

The conversation was light and happy for the rest of the dinner, a marked change from last year's strained gathering because of his father's move and subsequent job loss. His siblings lollygagged at the table when everyone was done, the meal making them drowsy, so Sam offered to put them into bed. He was on his way to the living room when he heard voices from the kitchen.

"If you think Sam didn't notice, then you're mistaken! I can't believe you!" his father said, his voice sharp like a knife's edge.

"I'm sure she's a nice girl-"

"Very nice!" his father continued. "Her entire family is! They threw us a going away party and everything! They're good people, Mama."

"But he can't love her-"

"But he can love Quinn?" his father asked with a scoff. "Before you even realized what color Mercedes was, you were planning Sam's wedding-I know it! I saw your mind working, Mom, so don't deny it!"

"I won't," Grammy said, then sighed. "I just think this is a phase, like the one with that Santana girl."

"That…I'm not entirely sure what that was, but I'm glad it's over," his mother said this time. "They were obviously unsuited for each other-"

"And who's to say this Mercedes girl isn't?" Grammy asked. "Could you imagine Sam taking her to our church? And what if, goodness, they have kids?"

"Wow, really, Mom?" Seth asked, disappointment lacing his tone. "You have an openly gay son, remember?"

"You can't have children," Grammy said dismissively.

"But we can," Paul reminded her. "We could easily find a surrogate, and she could be a black woman, and you'd have black grandkids-"

The sound of a dish shattering made Sam jump and rush into the kitchen where his grandmother was crouched down to gather the remnants of the butter dish, brushing aside her sons' attempts to help. The other adults could barely look at him, but Sam just bent down to help his grandmother.

"Sam, I've got it-"

"No, you don't," Sam said gently but firmly, taking the shards from her and placing them in the dustpan his mother had gotten from the storage closet nearby. His grandmother's green eyes were watering and she sniffled slightly, shaking her head.

"I raised my children to be better than this," she said softly, nodding. "I did, I promise."

"I know, Grammy," he said, helping her to stand. "And they are."

"She's just…not what I envisioned for you, that's all," Grammy whispered, patting Sam's wrist.

"I can be honest and say I didn't see her coming, either; but she's here, and I hope she stays for a very long time."

Grammy inhaled a shuddering breath. "You're just so young to be saying that…"

Sam bit his bottom lip and twisted his hands until his fingers interlocked with his grandmother's. He stared at them, feeling the eyes of everyone else upon him, but he needed to say what was in his heart.

"When I first knew my feelings for Mercedes were becoming serious, I'd asked Mike for advice. He'd been in a relationship with a wonderful girl for over a year, which is like eighty in glee club! But he said Tina affirms him and he affirms her, and they didn't let anyone else into their relationship. You think that's sound?"

"Very," Grappy said, and Sam quirked a smile.

"I and Mercedes had a really, really bad argument a few weeks back…really bad. But, despite the words that were said and the feelings that were hurt, the one thing I never doubted was her love for me, and I hope she didn't question my love for her. That affirmation was something I'd never had with Quinn, despite my feelings for her, and that's how I know I'm not too young to say I want a future with Mercedes and mean it."

"Sam…"

He kissed his grandmother's hands. "I'm gonna tell Mercedes it's probably not a good idea for her family to come over because I don't want anyone uncomfortable during this holiday."

Grammy squeezed his hands. "I'm so sorry, Sam."

He nodded, still unable to look into the eyes he'd inherited, and rubbed the back of his grandmother's hands with his thumbs. "I'm sorry, too, Grammy."