Unwanted gifts
"It's open!"
Freddie looked up from the fanfiction page he was reading and his laptop, recognising his mothers long drawn out knock. Mrs. Benson slid into the room and stood half inside and half hidden by the door. She faced the floor, but Freddie couldff see her sore, red eyes and noticed her shaking hand and how it wouldn't leave her mouth. He opened his mouth to say something...
"-Freddie, dear" her voice trembled "I'm... I have some bad news"
He didn't say anything, but automatically he was on his feet, his arms reaching out for her.
"Your Aunt Jenn..." she choked on a sob and wouldn't look him in the eyes, "Your Aunt Jennifer..." and Freddie didn't need to hear those fatal words.
He wrapped his arms around her. "It's Okay Mom. You..." and his own voice trembled, "...I understand."
Then the tears came. As if from nowhere they came like the slow drip, drip, dripping of a faulty tap, from his chin and onto the creamy fabric of his mothers cardigan. Freddie closed his eyes and let the familiar mint odour of her shampoo take over his senses, grabbing at any kind of distraction he could. He tried to keep his mind unfocused. When he was younger he used to over sleep and then dehydrate himself for a similar effect. It was almost as effective as a drug. But he couldn't block out the sound of his mother as she sobbed into his shoulder, and the damp cold where her tears had spread out across the Icarly T-shirt he was wearing. It was Carly's 'second anniversary of their friendship' present and he'd vowed to treasure it for life. At least she needn't worry that he'd sell it like Sam had hers. Although he feared Sam would steal it one day and frame him somehow. Her jealousy often knew no bounds.
"Freddie" Mrs Benson muffled, inhaling deeply.
She pushed him back, to face her.
"Freddie", she repeated, "Why would she do it?" her throat made her voice jagged and hoarse.
Freddie's eyebrows crumpled with confusion, and there was a hint of suspicion in his shiny brown eyes.
"Do what?" he asked as he rubbed away the remaining moisture that stained his cheeks.
"She... she killed herself"
"What?" Freddie could hardly believe it.
Aunt Jennifer would never do something like this. At least to Freddie, she never seemed the least bit suicidal. She never seemed to let anything affect her emotionally. Freddie remembered how she'd shown such little care or attention when he was growing up in his old New York apartment, when she stayed to help look after him after his father had died. He recalled how he'd fall, or get hurt, or come home from school crying because he'd been told he was an ugly freak with a crazy Mom, and that his Dad was a loser and sometimes Aunt Jennifer even agreed with the other kids at school. When Freddie told Mrs. Benson, she'd say she was only joking around with Freddie, apologise and then claim he was overreacting. Eventually Freddie gave up even expressing how much it hurt for an adult to treat him like all the children at school. It probably explained why he put up with doing Icarly with Sam around. No, he wasn't very fond of Aunt Jennifer, but he couldn't imagine this is something she would do.
He didn't even know why her death was affecting him so much. She was a mean and inconsiderate woman, but maybe it was because he knew how close his Mom and Aunt Jennifer were when they were younger. It was one of Mrs. Benson's favourite pastimes to reminisce about the long adventure-filled days they'd spend together during Summers, before she married Aunt Jennifer's big brother and Freddie's late father, Peter, and before the accident happened and changed everything for six year old Freddie and turned Mrs. Benson into the often emotionally unstable, over-protective woman she'd been the last nine years.
"She left a note for Uncle Terry and mailed one to Amanda..." Mrs Benson had finally stopped sobbing, and was now sniffing and wiping at her eyes with a tissue, "There's one for us",
And it seemed like something that would be said at Christmas when everyone was opening presents, but there was no joy or excitement involved in this gift. Freddie's eyes suddenly looked very intense and distracted and his heart was thumping really hard against his chest.
"No one has to ever know"
He blinked away the voices of the past. "Have you read it?"
Mrs. Benson put her hand to Freddie's forehead. "No", and she turned and walked towards his bathroom. "You're sweating... you feel hot"
"Mom, I'm fine – I'm just... we're both upset." But he knew she would never listen, even at a time like this. She returned to find Freddie leaning against his bedroom door, chewing on his fingers.
"How many times have I told you to stop chewing on those fingers!" Her voice picked up pitch as she reached him. "You'll get an infection", and she put a cold wet rag to his face. "Now lie down and I'll make you some hot cocoa", and he loved her despite her spouts of temporary insanity. She didn't realise how much embarrassment and shame she laid on him, but she didn't realise how much he appreciated and loved her despite all of it either.
"Okay" he sighed and she had placed his laptop on his desk and straightened his bed out before he'd even spoken again. "Thanks" and he forced a smile, despite the current circumstance, "Mom? Do... you want to do the 'I love Lucy' Jigsaw later?"
She sniffed again and looked at him longingly. "What would I do without my Freddie?"
And in a moment she was gone and soon after the kettle began to boil and Freddie was left with his own thoughts again. It made him uncomfortable. Where was the suicide letter, and what could it possibly say?