Sam was confused; why would he be worried about himself? Why would he be angry? She knew all too well how much of a pain Marissa could be, but her mother-in-law had changed over the years, so much so that Sam no longer found it insulting for someone to call her Mrs. Benson. "So, why are you..." she began, "Why am I worried about myself?" Freddie completed. Sam nodded, and Freddie exhaled heavily, "After I lashed out at her about the noticeable lack of pictures with you in them, I noticed the look on her face. She looked, I don't know, surprised, saddened by what I said." Now Sam was thoroughly confused, and Freddie could tell she didn't understand what this revelation had to do with his self-trust. "When it comes to my mother, have, have I ever stood up for you?" he continued, and that was when Sam understood his earlier cryptic remark.
Sam wasn't sure how to answer that. While he had never directly said anything to Marissa, Freddie had stood up for her in his way. "If you're asking whether you have done so in a direct manner, then no, you have not." Freddie's face dropped, "ahh," was all he said. "Look, babe, you have never been much on confrontations. You prefer what most people would call the diplomatic approach, and I love you for that." Freddie appeared to accept her response as a smile slowly returned to his face, but he still wasn't sure even with his wife's reassurances.
An hour or so later, back at Bushwell, Marissa sat on her couch with the TV on, though she was too deep in thought to pay attention to it. The altercation with her son weighed heavily on her. Was what he said true? Had she not truly accepted Sam? Marissa certainly felt that she had, but Freddie did not, and perhaps he was right. With all of the photos they had done over the years, couple and family ones alike, why had she never put up any that had Sam in them? Thinking further on this, Marissa concluded that there was one way to resolve this. Getting up from the couch, she made her way to the 'Family' wall and opened the hutch underneath the pictures. Pulling out the two shoeboxes of photos, Marissa returned to the couch and began looking through all of the images.
By the time she had gone through everything in the box, Marissa had found that indeed she did have several dozen pictures with Sam in them. Freddie was right; how could she have been so blind to what she was doing? There were photos from senior prom, several weddings, including their own. Each one showed the same thing when it came to her son and Sam. They both wore a happy and contented look when they were together, something Marissa had not worn herself ever since Freddie's father walked out all those years ago. Those first few months had been so rough for Marissa that she at one time toyed with the notion of leaving Freddie with another relative and, well she, had never got too far with that train of thought.
Was that why she never put any of Sam and Freddie's photos up? Was she so jaded by her experiences that she didn't want to see anyone that happy, including her son? Marissa did not like where this line of thought was going. She had always told herself and others that the overprotective behaviors were all to make sure Freddie was safe and happy. This new revelation, however, seemed to disprove that. It was apparent that they made each other happy, but subconsciously Marissa didn't want to be reminded of her unhappiness, so she didn't put up anything that would do so. "How could I have been so stupid?" Marissa whispered to no one in particular before reaching for her phone. Scrolling through her phone's contacts, she stopped momentarily on Freddie's but thought better of it when she realized it was after 11:00 PM. Placing her phone back on the table, Marissa decided she would call tomorrow after work.
Despite her best intentions, it wouldn't be until three days later that Marissa finally made the call, with the previous two nights emotionally weighing down on her, ultimately keeping her from facing the issue head-on. But she could not continue to put it off, and on the third day, she finally made the call. The phone rang twice before Sam picked up, "Hey Marissa, what's up?" She thought Sam sounded like her regular self, "Hi Sam, is Freddie home?" she asked, knowing he was but attempting to gauge things before bringing anything up to her about Freddie's visit. "Yep, he got home about an hour ago. Do you want to talk to him?" Sam asked, her curiosity piquing. 'I don't know,' was what Marissa thought, but she replied with, "Not yet; I wanted to talk to you first." She and Marissa had plenty of conversations in the past, but there was something about Marissa's tone that intrigued her, "Sure, what's on your mind?" There was a long pause, long enough that Sam wasn't positive the call didn't disconnect, "Marissa, are you there?" Sam asked. "Yes, sorry," another pause, though shorter, "I know it's been a while since I've been over there, but I was wondering if I might be able to come by later this evening?"
That was a bit of an understatement. Before Freddie's accident, Marissa had been at their house at least once, sometimes multiple times a week. To say that this annoyed the young couple would not be an exaggeration. Since the accident, however, Marissa hadn't been over at all. "Sure, did you have a time in mind?" Marissa glanced at her watch, "I'm thinking around 7:30," she replied, "Sounds good; we'll see you then." A couple of minutes after Sam hung up with Marissa, Freddie stepped back into the living room, "Did I hear you talking to someone?" he asked, sitting down in the La-Z Man recliner to her right. "Yep, it was Marissa," Sam said, glancing sideways to watch his reaction. There was the slightest hesitation before he responded, "Ah, what did she want? Or was it a girls-only thing?" he asked, only half-jokingly. "No, it wasn't a girls-only thing. If I'm not mistaken, it has more to do with you than me," Sam answered cryptically.
Freddie allowed himself a wry smile, "really?" he replied, attempting to hide his surprise, or was it disdain. His wife's comment had Freddie wondering if Marissa would make an appearance, but if she was, then why choose now to come here? Was it potentially a misguided effort to try and help him? Or was it the more likely reason, the picture incident from his visit? "What time is she going to be here?" Sam looked at him, "How did you," she stopped, catching herself, "who said anything about her coming over?" she asked, attempting to be casual as possible. Freddie couldn't help but roll his eyes, "No one, but since you said it had more to do with me, and since she called you," he trailed off. Now it was Sam's turn to smile. Even after all their years together, Sam was still surprised by how well Freddie could read her. "You're right; your mom is coming over," Sam replied, continuing to watch her husband for any response.
"There was something different about her, though," Sam continued, "she seemed worried or may be anxious about something." Freddie stood there, taking everything in without response. He could only hope that Marissa had used the time since his visit wisely and thought long and hard about what he had said to her. "I think you got to her, Freddie." There was a moment of silence, "I hope so, Sam," he finally replied. Sitting down beside her, Freddie placed a hand on her very pregnant belly, "You know, as much as I hate to say this," he began, his hand caressing Sam's stomach, "my memory loss, at least as far as my mother is concerned, was a good thing." That was certainly not something Sam had expected him to say, "Why do you say that?" "Well, from everything that I have remembered so far, what I saw at her apartment, and the way she reacted to what I said before l left. Well, it all seems to point out that I was weak-willed, or hell maybe even afraid of her."
Freddie looked at his wife, expecting her to say something. When nothing was forthcoming, he continued, "I don't want to be that person anymore, Sam. I can't be that person anymore. She may be my mother, but you, Lexi, Ethan, Evan, and this little one here," he said, nodding at Sam's belly. "All of you are the most important people in my life, and NO ONE will ever come before you ever again, not even her." Sam couldn't help herself as a broad smile formed. She'd be lying if there wasn't a particular bit of pleasure hearing this from him, especially given the past between herself and Marissa. Their specific relationship had improved over the years, but there were still more times than not that Sam felt left out or treated differently from the rest of the family by her mother-in-law.
A loud rumble escaped from Sam, "Someone sounds hungry," Freddie quipped, "how about I go start dinner? Is there anything that sounds good to you?" Sam thought about it for a minute, "Well, I had been craving BF Wangs here lately. You good with that?" Somewhat surprisingly, that sounded very good to Freddie, and he quite literally did not remember the last time he had eaten there, "Yeah, I'm good with that, do you want your usual?" Sam nodded as Freddie stood up, "I'll go ask Lexi what she wants. Do you think the boys will want their regular sweet and sour chicken, or should I ask them what they want?" Sam seriously thought about it. The boys could pick their breakfast, so why not let them choose their food for dinner? Well, at least when they ordered in, "Sure, go ahead and ask, but I think they may well just get their regular order." Freddie had the same thought, but he decided to give Ethan and Evan the choice of picking something different or not, "I'll call the order in once I've got everyone's order," he replied before walking upstairs.
The Benson family had just finished cleaning up after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Sam and Freddie looked at each other; they knew it was Marissa. "You want me to get the door?" Sam asked, throwing the final paper plate into the trash. Freddie took a deep breath, "No, I'll get it. She is my mother after all," he said, his inflection almost emotionless, robotic. Freddie opened the front door before Sam even made it out of the kitchen, "Hello, Mom," his voice the same tone as before. The current situation could be problematic, Sam thought. Here was Marissa, hopefully trying to make a change to keep not only Freddie but Sam and the kids in her life. If Freddie remained cold to her, this could backfire. If or when the remainder of his memories returned, Freddie would be devastated. "Marissa!" Sam called, shuffling across the living room to her. When she was close enough, Sam wrapped Marissa in a hug, "It's good to see you and not have to walk out the door immediately." Both Benson women shared a chuckle, "Yes, it is," Marissa responded.
They all sat down, Sam and Freddie on the couch and Marissa on a recliner directly to their right. There were a few minutes of chit-chat before Marissa cleared her throat, "Freddie," she turned her attention fully on her son, "I want you to know, you were right." A look of satisfaction crossed his face, "I never fully accepted Sam like family," she continued, now turning to her daughter-in-law, "Sam, I want you to know how sorry I am for the way I've treated you in the past." Sam was shocked. She had gotten used to it and never expected Marissa to admit to it, let alone apologize. A glance at Freddie told her that he was just as surprised as herself, "t, thank you," Sam finally managed. Marissa shook her head, "No, thank you, Sam. You had every right to be furious with me, but you've been so very kind to me while I've been, well, the opposite." At this point, both Sam and Freddie completely dumbfounded; a feather could have knocked them over.
"Freddie, Sam, are you alright?" Sam was the first to speak, "y, yeah, I'm fine," but when Freddie didn't chime in, she turned to him, and he looked to be in pain. "Freddie, what's wrong," she asked, quickly moving to his side, "My head," he managed to gasp out before going unconscious. When Freddie began regaining consciousness, he could hear several familiar voices and a few unfamiliar ones. There was Sam, Lexi, the boys, and his mom, all of whom sounded concerned or maybe afraid. The alien voices were spouting medical jargon, paramedics his brain told him, "He's coming out of it," one of the paramedics called out. Freddie tried to find Sam and the kids, but his vision was still limited, and all he could see were two strangers kneeling over him. "Mr. Benson, can you hear me?" the young man to his right asked. Nodding to the man, Freddie knew better than to attempt movement unless requested or instructed to do so. His vision had fully returned at this point, and he could see his wife, children, and mother were all terrified.
Both paramedics stood up. The second, a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, extended a hand to him, "Can you try to stand up?" Freddie nodded and stood up slowly, hoping to keep himself from passing out again. Once he was on his feet, and the paramedics were satisfied that he could stand unassisted, they began to test him for any deficiencies in his mental or physical facilities. Seeing their dad back up and moving did a lot to ease the kid's fears, but Sam and his mother were something else. Once their testing was complete, the female paramedic spoke with Sam and Freddie while Marissa stayed with the kids. "I don't see any mental or physical deficiencies, but you were exceedingly lucky that you were already seated when you blacked out. Since you regained consciousness on your own, and everything shows normal for you, we cannot force you to go to the hospital. We would, however, given your most recent medical history, highly suggest that you call your neurologist and have them do a follow-up.
Sam and Freddie both nodded, "Thank you for, well everything," Sam said with a warm, sincere smile. Both of the paramedics smiled back, "It's what we do," the female replied, "I'm just glad your husband came out of it on his own and with no notable issues." Once the paramedics were outside, the boys ran up and wrapped their arms around both of Freddie's legs, nearly knocking him back into the chair. He would have expected Lexi to do something similar, but when he looked at her, she took off up the stairs, and when she slammed her bedroom door, Freddie's heart broke in two. It didn't take Freddie long to reassure the boys that he was alright and not going anywhere. Lexi, he feared, would be another story. She was older and had a little more understanding about what had happened to him than Ethan and Evan and what it might mean.