Eighteen

"This truck is for carrying Sharkman to destroy the city," four-year old Tyler told Carly as he held up one of his trucks for her to see.

"Well why does Sharkman want to destroy the city?" Carly asked.

"Because, he's a bad guy!" Tyler told her.

"But why doesn't he do something more fun at the city?" Carly suggested. "Like shop?"

"Shopping is stupid," Tyler cringed.

"Take that back!" Carly gasped as Sam came into the room.

"Alright, I heard that, Ty," Sam said, scooping her son up in her arms. "What did daddy and I tell you about saying 'stupid'?"

"It's not a nice word," Tyler moaned. "But I don't like shopping, mommy."

"What have you done to him?" Carly frowned.

"I know, it's boring," Sam chuckled. "But you still can't use those words. Mommy isn't allowed to anymore either…So what do you say?"

"I'm sorry," Tyler mumbled.

"Good boy," Sam said, kissing the top of his head as she set him down. "Alright, go put your toys in your room. We have to finish cleaning up before daddy goes crazy."

"Why's Freddie going crazy?" Carly asked as Sam began piling the magazines on the coffee table neatly.

"I told you," Sam said. "His dad's coming to stay with us for the weekend, and you know how he gets around his dad."

"Ah," Carly nodded. "I forgot that was today."
"Yup, Freddie's at the airport picking him up now," Sam nodded.

"When was the last time Freddie's dad was even here?" Carly asked.

"He came here once right after Jason was born," Sam replied. "And then Freddie flew out to see him for a few days once five years ago after he had some knee surgery. This is the first time he's seeing the twins and Tyler in person."

"Wow."
"I know."

"Well are him and his dad close?" Carly asked. "I know Freddie never mentioned him much growing up."

"Eh, they talk every once in awhile on the phone," Sam shrugged. "But they don't have one of those close father-son relationships, if that's what you mean. After his parents got divorced, Freddie really never saw his dad as much as he would've liked."

"At least he's going to see him now," Carly said. "Isn't Freddie happy about that?"

"Yeah, he is," Sam said. "But he just wants everything to be perfect."

"Well, good luck this weekend," Carly said, getting to her feet. "I should probably head out so you can finish getting ready for Freddie's dad."

"Thanks," Sam said. "They're probably going to be back now any minute. Guess I should call the kids down here. Hopefully none of them got into anything in the ten minutes I've taken my eyes off them."
"They're your kids," Carly chuckled, heading for the door. "I'm sure they've managed to do something by now."

"Jason!" Sam called up the stairs as Carly left the house. "Emma! Ashton! Tyler! Down here; now!"

A moment later, the four Benson children came hurrying down the stairs.

"What?" twelve-year old Jason asked.

"Your dad's going to be here with your grandpa soon," Sam said. "So you need be down here when they get home."

"I didn't even know we had a grandpa," Emma commented.

"Yeah, how come we've never met daddy's daddy?" Ashton asked.

"He lives kind of far," Sam said lamely. "But daddy's sent him a ton of pictures. And he did meet Jason."
"I don't remember that," Jason said.

"Well, you were six months old," Sam reasoned. "Look, I just want to remind you all to be on your best behavior this weekend while grandpa is here, okay? That means no running around. That means no filling the bathtub with mud. That means no making cakes out of spaghetti sauce and gummy worms That means no trying to glue anybody to the floor!"

"That was funny," Tyler laughed.

"Well we'll see how funny you think it is if you get caught," Sam said firmly. "Because if any of you act up this weekend, you'll be grounded for so long you'll forget what fun is. Now, Jason? Did you finish cleaning up your room so grandpa can stay in there?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded. "But why do I have to give up my room?"
"Perks of being the oldest," Sam said, rustling her son's blonde hair. "Em, Ash? Did you get the guest towels ready in the bathroom? Aunt Carly bought those for us ten years ago; she'll kill us if we don't actually use them at some point."

"We did it!" Ashton said proudly.

"And you sure you've gotten all your toys from around the house, right Tyler?" Sam asked.

"Uh-huh!"

"Okay," Sam said. "Then…just go sit on the couch until they get here."
They didn't have long to wait, though. For a few moments later there was the sound of a key turning in the lock and the front door swung open as Freddie entered his home, followed by his father.

"So…here it is," Freddie said, setting his dad's suitcase down by the entrance. "Place hasn't changed much since you were here twelve years ago, but-"

"Hey, it looks fantastic, son!" Freddie's father said, clasping Freddie's shoulder. "You've done real well for yourself. But I didn't come here to stare at your house. Where are those grandkids of mine?"

"Oh, right," Freddie said, leading his father into the living room, where Sam and the kids were waiting. "Kids…I'd like you to all officially meet your grandfather."

"Hello," the four kids all said politely.

"Well my word," Freddie's father said. "Who knew my own grandkids would look so picturesque?"

"What does that mean?" Emma whispered to Sam.

"Um…it-it's a good thing, honey," Sam whispered back.

"Well come here and let me hug all of you!" Freddie's dad beamed, holding out his arms. He stepped over to Jason.

"Jason!" he chuckled, wrapping his arms around his eldest grandson. "I cannot believe last time I was here you were just a little baby! I could pick you with one hand and now you're almost as tall as your dad, give or take a few inches."

He turned to Tyler. "Oh, and this little guy here must be Tyler! Come here, Tyler. Your dad tells me your turning into quite the sports fan."
"I like baseball and football the best," the four-year old nodded.

"Well," Freddie's father chuckled. "How about while I'm here you and I play a little ball?"

"Can we?" Tyler asked excitedly.

"Dad, you don't have to," Freddie said. "You have that bad knee and-"

"Oh, don't be silly, Freddie," his father scoffed. "Of course I'm going to play ball with my grandson while I'm here!"

He turned to the twins. "And these lovely young ladies must be my granddaughters. Now, let's see if I can tell you girls apart. This must be Emma on the right and Ashton on the left."

"No, I'm Emma," Emma corrected.

"And I'm Ashton," Ashton said.

"See, you can tell them apart because Ashton has a tiny scar by her eye," Freddie said. "It's from when she fell off her tricycle when she was three."

"Well you girls are just the spitting image of your mother," Freddie's father said, hugging each twin tightly. "Lucky too. Speaking of which, Sam! Come here, dear! It's been far too long!"

"Hey, Robert," Sam said giving her father-in-law a quick hug.

"Look at you, you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!" Robert stated. "Still don't know how my Freddie managed to find a woman as beautiful as you."

"Neither do I," Sam grinned.

"Alright, alright," Freddie said, rolling his eyes. "Um, dad? I know you're probably exhausted from your flight, so why don't you go lay down for a little bit. You're going to be staying in Jason's room. I'll take you up now and-"

"No, no, no!" Robert said at once. "I didn't come here to sleep! Besides, I haven't even given the kids their presents yet."
"Presents?" Emma gasped excitedly. "We get presents?"

"Of course you do!" Robert laughed. "And…a little something extra."

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, pulling out four, crisp fifty-dollar bills.

"Whoa!" Jason exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Fifty bucks?"
"That's right," Robert nodded, handing each of the kids a bill.

"Dad, you-you didn't have to do that," Freddie said. "It's really not necessary-"

"Necessary? Who cares about necessary?" Robert scoffed. "A grandfather's job is to spoil his grandkids, is it not? Now, let's get to those presents…"

…..

"Well…Tyler finally tired himself out," Sam yawned later that evening as she entered her and Freddie's bedroom. "Thanks to that sugar rush your father inflicted on him, I was starting to think he'd never go to sleep. I mean ice cream, candy and donuts? Not even I would be sane after all that."

"Hmm?" Freddie said, looking over at his wife from the bed where he was sitting, deep in thought.

"What's up with you?" Sam asked, crawling into the bed next to her husband. "You've been quiet all day."
"Have I?"

Sam gave him a small smile. "This about your dad?"

Freddie didn't respond.

"Well the kids all seem to love him," Sam said. "And he's been great with them; better than I would've thought."
"Yeah, he's a real natural with kids," Freddie mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Sam frowned, squeezing his hand. "Aren't you happy? I thought you wanted him to get along with the kids."

"I do," Freddie sighed. "It's just…where's all this even coming from? Since when has he been the charming, fun grandpa? This is the first time he's even bother to come meet Tyler and the twins, and he's just going to waltz in here and woo them all in?"

"Well baby, what do you want him to do?" Sam asked gently. "He's just trying to have some kind of relationship with his grandkids. That's a good thing."

"I know it is," Freddie said. "And it's nice to know he's capable of it. Since, you know, it's not like I'd know that from experience or anything."

"Aw," Sam said, leaning over to give him a short kiss. "You're upset that your dad never had this kind of relationship with you, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't say I'm upset," Freddie said heavily. "I mean…I am glad the kids all seem to like him. It's just…I dunno, I guess all these years I've been telling myself that the reason my dad never really did much with me when I was growing up was because he-he just wasn't that kind of person. But here he was today…doing more bonding things with the kids in one day than he ever did with me my whole life. He must've played catch with Tyler for hours, and he couldn't even play with me for five minutes growing up…So what was it? Was it me? Was-Was I just not the son he wanted or something?"
"No, of course not," Sam said at once. "Come on…maybe-maybe your dad feels bad about not having the best relationship with you when you were kid. Maybe that's why he's trying to bond with the kids; he might see it as some sort of second chance."
Freddie gave her a strange look. "You been watching Doctor Phyllis?"

"What? I'm not capable of 'deep thoughts' on my own?" Sam defended. She put an arm around Freddie's shoulders. "He can still be a good grandpa, even if he wasn't the best dad, you know."
Freddie sighed. "I guess…I guess it does mean something if he's at least trying to be there for my kids now. He-He's already talking about coming up for Christmas this year. Who knows, maybe he had some sort of late, late mid-life crisis."
"Maybe," Sam said, kissing his temple.

The two were silent for a minute.

"You think that will be me some day?" Freddie suddenly asked.

"What?"

"You know," Freddie said. "You think one day I'll be trying to mend my almost non-existent relationship with the kids this way?"

"No," Sam said at once. "Because you're not going to need to mend your relationship with our kids. Freddie…you're a great father to them. You've been there for them every second of their lives. You've done everything you can for them. Trust me, they're not going to look back at their relationships with you and wish you had been around more or had spent more time with them."
"You think so?" Freddie asked.

"I do," Sam nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. "Really, baby. And when they're parents, they're not going to try to be different from you. They're going to try to be a parent just like you."

Freddie smiled. "And like you," he added.

….

The last morning of Freddie's father's stay, Freddie found himself awake early. He laid in bed for a few minutes, trying to fall back asleep, but soon realized it was a lost cause.

Careful not to wake his sleeping wife next to him, Freddie got up from the bed, threw his robe on and headed down to the kitchen to get breakfast.

He was surprised, though, when he was greeted with the familiar scent of coffee as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Dad?" Freddie yawned when he reached the kitchen, spotting his father sitting at the table. "What are you doing up at seven in the morning?"

"Oh, I couldn't sleep," Robert replied. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks," Freddie nodded, pouring himself a cup. "So you ready for you flight home today? The plane leaves at five, right?"

"Yup," Robert nodded. "It's a shame. You've got yourself some real great kids here, son. I wish I could spend some more time with them."

"Well you can always come back up for another visit," Freddie pointed out. "I think the kids will really like that…so would I."

Robert looked down at his coffee. "You know…being here this weekend…seeing you with your own family…well, it's clear that-that you're a real good father to those kids, Freddie. Best I've ever seen."

"Thanks dad," Freddie said, giving him a small smile. "That means a lot."

Robert sighed. "You know what I love most about grandkids? They give you a chance to try being a parent one last time. Even if it's from afar. Some people don't need that second chance. But some of us really do."

"Well," Freddie said, clearing his throat. "If-If it's any consolation, you've been doing a real good job with that second chance, dad."