iAsk The Hard Questions

Sam drove the familiar route across town without so much as thinking. Truthfully, she could have driven it with her eyes closed. She was manic right now. Mania ran in the Puckett family, it seemed. Maybe it was just her and Melanie, based on what Pam had put them through. She didn't know and she didn't care. She did know, however, that she would have one serious, hard-nosed talk with her co-conspirator as soon as she arrived. Everything had almost gone to hell in a hand basket. She couldn't keep secrets from her beautiful, precious Cupcake. She could lie her ass off to the rest of Seattle, but keeping anything from Carly Shay was damn near impossible.

She went over the text message in her head. She knew that if Carly had seen it and not paid attention to the sender, she would've thought Sam was having an affair, as impossible as that was to believe. It was the one thing Sam Puckett would never – could never – do. She may love differently than a majority of the world, but her love was love just the same. Carly Shay was the center of her world. She woke and slept with Carly Shay. She had laughed and cried with Carly Shay. She had broken bread and prayed with this woman. All of this made it imperative that she keep this clandestine meeting in the last possible place that the Cupcake would ever come looking for her. As much as she loved Carly Shay, some things simply needed to be private. If someone came to her in confidence, for whatever reason, she needed to honor that. Sam was as in the dark as anybody, but now wasn't the time. This was about doing first, asking questions later.

Sam pulled into the parking structure of the well-heeled office building she had left just hours earlier. She knew that, right now, nearly two dozen floors up, her precious twin sister was singing out with all of her heart and soul. As this whole endeavor got underway, Sam had begun to understand what this 'music thing' meant to her sister. For her, this was therapy and religion and addiction all rolled up together. It wasn't simply something that Melanie was good at, it was one of the two things she had been born for – music and Freddie Benson. Sam knew it and it no longer turned her stomach to consider it as incontrovertible fact. Of course, the thought of what Melanie and Freddie might do behind closed doors was beyond unpleasant. It was repulsive. It was also the reason she didn't dwell on it. She couldn't think of her sister doing those kinds of things. If That Boy was what would make her only sister the happiest straight girl in the entire world, then Sam had no business trying to tell her otherwise. She took a deep breath and undid her seat belt. She had a Sit Down to attend.

UPSTAIRS, THE PALOMINO RESTAURANT…

She had to admit, this thing was about as perfect as possible. She couldn't have arranged things any better if she were part of Uncle Carmine's crew. Everything was the way that it should be if you wanted to avoid an incident. This was a public place, crowded with the mid-afternoon rush, that crowd between lunch and dinner. There were just enough witnesses around to keep the target in line, prevent them from doing anything rash. This would be all well and good if the target in question was someone other than Sam Puckett. She sat down at the table. She was livid. She knew she'd have to say her piece, but she also knew the way these things were supposed to go. You weren't to speak unless spoken to. That said, this intruded on her private, personal life. On the plus side, at least there was food. She almost didn't care – almost. Not even the best food of the mother country could keep Sam from missing her Cupcake. She'd been torn away from her side for this? This had better be goddamned important.

She seethed, but kept her voice low, so as to avoid breaking one of Uncle Carmine's cardinal rules.

"Do you have any goddamn idea the position you put me in, asking me to come here, now? Don't you know that we could be seen by any number of people? Any number of people could ruin this whole thing? Did you even think about that?"

The voice from across the table was cool and even, having expected this outburst.

"And yet you came. Are you quite done? All this angst you have will ruin your appetite. Eat something while we talk."

Freddie Benson thought he was The Godfather.

Sam spat at him in Italian. He knew it wasn't complimentary. She switched back to English.

"You pulled me away from home because you wanted to have lunch?"

He interrupted her.

"Look, this is about your sister…. This is important. I needed to see you…"

The look in his eyes said it all. Sam knew that this was important. She also knew, barring some universal breakdown in communication, what this was about. She let him talk. "Give him enough rope and he'll hang himself…" she thought.

"Sam, I… She's wonderful… I… she just…"

Freddie couldn't find the words.

Sam could have shot him down six ways from Sunday, with one snarky response or the other. She knew that she couldn't do that. That was too juvenile. As much as she proclaimed otherwise, she cared about this boy… about this man. He wasn't a boy anymore. He'd grown into a man – the man that her sister loved.

She looked him in the eye again. She knew it was true. His eyes – a slightly milkier chocolate color than Carly's – had begun to mist up. The thought of her sister had moved this man to tears.

"For God Sakes, Benson, don't cry… you'll cause a goddamn scene…"

Despite her tone, Freddie knew why she was saying it. She cared.

He spoke again, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

"Sam, I didn't know how else to do this… I mean, I couldn't do this… I love Melanie so much… I wouldn't be much of a man if I didn't…"

Sam cut him off. She did it for her own reasons, reasons she hoped Freddie understood.

"You're still not much of a man…"

Freddie understood all too well. He laughed. Sam wanted him to smile.

"Sam, I… what I… what I mean to say is…"

Sam was growing a little tired of this. A grown man couldn't even form a coherent sentence.

"Dammit Benson, just out with it already!"

He took a deep breath. Absent anything else to do, he reached across the table, taking Sam's hand in his own. Sam thought this was strange. The only person she ever let touch her this way was her Cupcake. She bristled at the foreign touch, but it subsided soon enough.

"Sam, I love your sister very much. She makes me feel…well… alive. She's amazing…"

Sam knew all of this already. This was boring. She let the Nub keep talking.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Sam… like you do with Carly… I just needed your… your permission first… I wouldn't be much of a man if I didn't do things properly. So, I suppose what I'm saying is… Sam Puckett, would you allow me the honor of having your sister's hand?"

Sam gaped. She knew this was coming, she just didn't realize it would be coming this soon. She felt warm, flushed. She was shaking, though she had no idea why. Something in Freddie Benson had lit a spark deep inside of her. Freddie squeezed her hand again. It was a soft, gentlemanly touch – unlike anything Sam had ever known. Men were rough, abrasive. Men weren't soft and gentle like this. She had no idea what was happening until the moment that it happened. Freddie Benson gingerly lifted Sam Puckett's hand – a hand identical in every respect to that of his future bride, albeit slightly rougher – to his lips. He kissed her hand just as he had Melanie's so many times before.

It had taken until now for Sam Puckett to realize that there were tears streaming down her face.

"Sam, what's the matter? Was it me? Was it something I…?"

Sam tried everything she could to be the cold, steely ninja. She tried and failed. Her heart wanted what it wanted and nothing more. She cared for Melanie more than anyone in this world, aside from Carly Shay. She let the tears come. Freddie Benson was safe. He was the one person in the world who could never hurt her. Melanie was her twin – her blood – incapable of harming another living thing. Carly Shay was her soft, sweet, precious little Cupcake. She alone had seen and vanquished Sam's inner demons. She alone had taken Sam onto herself, wrapped her in the soft, downy warmth of their love, and protected her from the storm.

Freddie Benson was different. Sam had given him ample reason over the years for him to hate her – yet he refused to. That was something she couldn't understand.

He read her mind the way only Carly could.

"It's okay, Sam… you can say the words…"

She looked at him, shocked. How could he know?

"Really… It's okay…" he said, his voice soothing. It reminded her of Melanie's all those years ago – in the painful times.

"It's okay…" he repeated. He let her come to that realization in her own time.

She finally did. She spoke in an injured voice, as though her soul was reluctant to give up her most closely guarded – yet most transparent – secret.

"Why should you and perfect little Melanie get to have everything? Don't I deserve that too? Just because my love is different from yours doesn't mean…"

Freddie cut her off. He couldn't stand to see her hurt.

"Sam… of course it doesn't… I never said, nor would I ever tell you that Melanie and I deserve something that you don't. Remember what you told me? You are a package deal. If I want one, I have to take the other… So… Why don't you dry those pretty blue eyes and let's start talking about planning two weddings. That is what you want, isn't it?"

Sam whimpered. It was a sound that only two people on the planet – her sister and her love – had ever heard before. Sam was just overcome with emotion. She asked the most obvious question in the world – the one with the most obvious answer in the world. The answer was so obvious that Sam had never once considered it.

"You would do that for me?"

A grin flashed across Freddie's face as he continued to hold her hand.

"Of course I would, Sam. I'll always be here for you. That's what family's for."

Sam Puckett's world was spinning. She wanted to say so many things. The only thing she could, however, was woefully inadequate. It would have to do.

"Thank you, Freddie. Thank you."