Chapter 11: iWhatNow? (updated spelling and grammar)
A/N: The picture is of the apartment.
SAM POV:
As we were nearing our touchdown in Seattle, I was weary from the journey, and like everyone else on that flight, jet lag had firmly set in. I had managed to catch some sleep during the trip, but upon waking, my stomach was grumbling with hunger, a potent mix of jet lag and low blood sugar.
The flight attendants seemed clueless when I inquired about ham, much to my dismay. "Mrs. Benson, please understand that we don't serve ham in business class," one of them explained. The mention of "business class" caught me off guard. So, they did have ham, and they were keeping it from me? That wasn't going to fly.
"Excuse me? Business class? So you have ham, and you're withholding it from me?" I exclaimed, feeling a surge of frustration. It took all my restraint not to give the platinum blonde, heavily made-up flight attendant a piece of my mind. Thankfully, Freddie was there, holding me back and seated between us.
He turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Baby, I promise I'll get you a honey ham when we land. Pinky promise!" His smile was infectious, and I couldn't help but relax, forgetting momentarily about the flight attendant's presence. But, predictably, she had to live up to her stereotype.
Leaning in towards Freddie, she patronizingly patted his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Benson. Your wife must be quite a handful. But if you ever find yourself in the Big Apple and want to meet a real woman, give me a call," she said, slipping a napkin with her name and number into his shirt pocket, all the while giving me a suggestive wink.
I could feel the fury bubbling up inside me, ready to explode on this plastic, fake Barbie. But Freddie squeezed my hand, and something in his expression made me pause. Was it protectiveness? His calm demeanor belied the anger burning in his eyes as he addressed her.
"For your information," he began, glancing at her name tag. "Brittani with an I. If that isn't fitting your stereotype to a tee, I don't know what is. Let me be clear, Brittani: my wife is a wonderful person, with integrity and self-confidence. Unlike you, she doesn't need to conform to society's standards with fake hair and tans. And she certainly doesn't hit on happily married men. So, please, walk away and don't come back unless you want to face the consequences from my beautiful, loving, and amazing wife." With that, he tore up the napkin and handed it back to her.
Turning to me, he nodded, his smile melting away the tension. He kissed my forehead, a gesture that caught me off guard, momentarily distracting me from the Barbie's scoff as she walked away. Applause and whistles erupted from other passengers, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected turn of events. Even the woman behind us seemed impressed, I heard her slap her husband's arm and say, "See Dean, that's how a real man does romance!" I chuckled to myself.
Never in my eighteen years of existence had I imagined a plane full of strangers cheering for Freddie and me, applauding our unwavering commitment to each other. It felt surreal, especially considering it was just me, an ordinary person. As we made our way to baggage claim, hand in hand, with Mrs. Benson beside me, I couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for Freddie's presence.
Our attention shifted to Barbie swiftly passing by, her head tucked low and for a fleeting moment, I felt a pang of sympathy. Yet, a stronger feeling of resentment lingered towards her for shamelessly flirting with my husband right in front of me. Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed Carly throwing her arms around my neck before delivering a solid slap on Freddie's arm.
"Ow! What's that for, Carly?" Freddie protested, massaging his arm.
"How could you let this happen?" Carly demanded, her frustration evident.
"Well, uh... Sam and I..." Freddie attempted to explain, but Carly cut him off.
"Don't even bother answering that rhetorical question! You're in so much trou... oh... hello, Mrs. Benson," Carly's tone shifted upon noticing Freddie's mom.
"Hello, dear. Which Mrs. Benson are you referring to?" Mrs. Benson replied with a wink in my direction, prompting a laugh from me. Carly seemed on the verge of exploding, which I found somewhat amusing.
"Relax, Carls. Everything will work out. I promise," I reassured her, giving Freddie's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's grab our bags and head home. This Mrs. Benson needs her ham," I joked, moving towards our luggage.
"Ugh! I don't get it! You guys have to come over and explain EVERYTHING!" Carly exclaimed in frustration.
"Yes, Mom!" Freddie and I chimed in unison, sharing a laugh as Carly stormed off, still grumbling about her confusion. I savored the moment, reveling in the warmth of our bond and the unexpected support from strangers.
FREDDIE POV:
Driving back to Bushwell Plaza in my mom's minivan, I found myself stealing glances at Sam, struck by her beauty and grateful for her unwavering presence throughout our journey. It was a relief waking up next to her, knowing she was by my side. As we navigated through the streets, my mind buzzed with unanswered questions, hoping our friends could fill in the gaps of how we became us.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions, I couldn't shake my surprise at my mom's acceptance of our relationship. It made me wonder when we'd muster the courage to share the news with Sam's mom and our classmates. But amid the turmoil, thoughts of homework managed to sneak in – typical Benson, always thinking about school.
Sam's gentle squeeze on my hand brought me back to the present as she announced, "We're here." Her shy smile and concerned gaze softened my worries momentarily.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.
"Yeah, love, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind. And hey, unintentional rhyme there. Maybe I should try my hand at rapping," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Sam chuckled softly, her laughter like music to my ears.
"Only you, Benson. Only you," she replied affectionately as we followed my mom, who was already making a beeline for Lewbert to discuss something about the apartment next door.
Approaching the counter, we couldn't help but overhear my mom and Lewbert embroiled in a heated debate about the apartment's heating arrangements.
"YOU EXPECT ME TO LET THOSE TROUBLEMAKERS LIVE TOGETHER AND PLOT MORE SCHEMES AGAINST ME?" Lewbert's booming voice echoed, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
Lewbert, dear, there's no need to shout and risk deafening the kids," my mom interjected smoothly, her voice a calming presence in the escalating tension. "Samantha and Fredward here have recently tied the knot, and..."
"WHAT! Finally. BUT WHAT? THOSE TWO ARE TROUBLE TOGETHER," Lewbert's outburst echoed through the lobby, clearly surprised by the news.
"Now, now, Lewbert. We're just looking to rent an apartment. I know the one next door is vacant since Martha, Bill, and Jenny moved out," my mom continued, her tone firm but diplomatic. "And I'll need a discounted rate with the place fully furnished for them. No negotiations. They're newlyweds without jobs at the moment, and they need to save for college. Oh, and Lewbert, let's not make me say the thing that I know, and you know I know, if you catch my drift," she added with a wink. Whatever leverage my mom held over Lewbert remained a mystery, and I couldn't help but wonder about the secrets exchanged between them.
As Sam and I observed their exchange, it seemed my mom's words had the desired effect, eventually coaxing Lewbert into compliance with her demands.
"8-F" was now ours, a fully furnished apartment courtesy of Lewbert's generosity. He even offered me a gig working around the building in IT, allowing me to work off some of the rent. It was an offer I couldn't refuse.
Stepping into our new abode with my mom in tow, Sam and I were blown away. "WOW!" we exclaimed in unison. The previous occupants had left everything behind when they moved back to Europe, leaving us with a home straight out of a magazine. From the elegant dining room set for four to the sleek kitchen with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, every detail exuded luxury. The living room boasted a plush white couch, a matching chair, and a large flat-screen TV atop a stylish coffee table. Branching off were the master bedroom and bathroom, a second bedroom and bathroom, a laundry room equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, and access to a balcony. Each bedroom came complete with beds, bedside tables, and dressers, with the master featuring a walk-in closet while the secondary bedroom had a standard one.
Sam and I couldn't have lucked into a better deal. This apartment was a dream come true. But amidst my excitement, a twinge of nervousness crept in. Would Sam want to sleep in the same bed as me, or would she prefer the option of a separate room? I couldn't shake the feeling that she hadn't fully processed our situation yet, and I wasn't sure she believed me when I said I was head over heels in love with her. (See chapter photo for the apartment layout inspiration)
SAM POV:
"WOW! This apartment is seriously amazing, way better than anything I've ever envisioned for myself. Pam Puckett can just take a backseat!" I muttered under my breath, feeling a surge of resentment towards my mother. The thought of confronting her made me shudder, but I resolved to hold off until Freddie brought up the topic. I couldn't stand that woman and dreaded her inevitable intrusion into our lives. Once she caught wind of our new place and stable relationship, she'd undoubtedly come running to leech off Freddie and me. But I refused to let her meddle; I wanted this to work more than anything I'd ever wanted before.
The sight of the spare bedroom caught my attention, and the idea of retreating there until I felt more settled crossed my mind. Despite my aspirations, doubts still lingered, gnawing at me. Everything had unfolded so swiftly, and while I yearned for this, I couldn't shake the nagging uncertainty.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely registered Mrs. Benson placing a picture frame on the coffee table. Freddie's inquiry brought me back to reality.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It's a little something I got for you both to remind you of what this marriage is actually about. Maybe you can hang it up!" she replied, her smile warm and sincere. Curious, I strolled over to inspect the frame, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. But as I peered over Freddie's shoulder, my heart skipped a beat.
His mother had assembled a collage of pictures of us, capturing moments I hadn't seen before. They seemed to portray us as if we'd always belonged together. It was a touching gesture, and I felt a lump form in my throat. It was as though she was expressing her belief in us, and it was both comforting and overwhelming.
"Friendship and love. No matter what," he said, embracing Crazy with a smile. I reciprocated the hug gratefully.
"Thank you," I murmured, returning her smile.
"Well, I better get going so you two can settle in. School starts tomorrow, and even married couples have to attend," she warned, her playful tone signaling the return of the Crazy I knew. I rolled my eyes affectionately.
"Thanks, Mom. Bye!" Freddie ushered her out the door.
"Love you both," she called back with a smile before leaving.
"Wow, okay, Fredhub. I'm hungry," I said to his back as he watched her leave. He turned to me, his attention refocused.
"Well, Princess, what do you want to eat? Pizza?" he suggested with a wink, causing a blush to creep onto my cheeks.
"Okay," I replied, my voice barely audible.
"God, you're cute. What kind? Canadian Bacon?" he teased, his playful demeanor putting me at ease.
"Mmm... yes, you do owe me some ham." I replied, my mouth watering at the thought. He ordered from his phone, and we settled onto the couch to wait. "So... um... how do you want to... uhm... sleep?" I stammered, feeling unusually flustered around him. Why couldn't I speak properly?
"Well... it's up to you, Wifey. We can definitely sleep in the same bed, but I understand if that option scares you right now," he said honestly, his gaze gentle and understanding.
"Uh... I... can we just ease into it?" I requested, feeling embarrassed by my hesitance. He took my hand and smiled reassuringly.
"Of course, Sam," he said, his smile melting away my worries.
We passed the time in comfortable silence catching up on our missed notifications and texts from our honeymoon until the pizza arrived. Sitting at the dining room table, we enjoyed our meal and cleaned up afterward. Discovering some beer in the fridge, we decided to indulge since it was ours. Laughter and jokes filled the air as we relaxed into the night. When the clock struck 11 PM, we agreed it was time for bed. Saying our goodnights, I allowed him to kiss me on the forehead before we heard a knock on the door. Freddie peered through the peephole, his expression turning to one of shock.
"It's your mom," he breathed, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of confusion and concern.