Purchasing
"Well, I did it, it's official," Sam said as she let herself into Spencer's apartment, where Carly was in the kitchen, pouring cake batter into a pan. "I just got back from city hall…my name is now Sam Benson."
"You finally changed your last name?" Carly grinned. "That's great, Sam!"
"Yeah, I figured I should just get it over with," Sam sighed. "But it's so weird. Once I finished filling out the paperwork the lady called me Mrs. Benson. Can you believe that? I have to be identified the same way as that freak show across the hall!"
"Is that really the nicest way to refer to your mother-in-law?" Carly sighed. "Look, I know Freddie was kind of hoping you'd take his last name after you guys got married last month, but he wasn't forcing you. If you didn't want to, why'd you do it?"
"It's not that I didn't want to," Sam mumbled. "I mean, I guess having Freddie's last name is kind of nice. We're officially The Bensons now. But it's still just kind of strange to suddenly be Mrs. Benson when I still have that limerick I wrote called 'Mrs. Benson and the Hungry Lion'."
"Oh come on, just because you're now Mrs. Benson too doesn't mean that you're the same person as Freddie's mom," Carly assured her. "And I'm sure once you get used to it, you won't even be weirded out by it that much anymore."
"Yeah, you're right," Sam nodded.
"So was Freddie excited when you told him?" Carly asked.
"I haven't yet, actually," Sam smiled. "I'm waiting until he gets back from his business trip Sunday night and then I'm going to surprise him."
"Oh, that's fun!" Carly said. "He's going to be so happy. And hey! I found this cute new store at the mall that makes personalized doormats. I can get you one with 'The Bensons' on it now! And Spencer knows this guy who can paint a family's last name real cool on their mailbox and-"
"Easy, Carls," Sam chuckled. "I didn't change my last name so Frednub and I can get matching t-shirts or anything."
"Fine," Carly said, placing her cake tray in the oven.
"So what are you baking for anyway?" Sam asked, picking up the mixing bowl and licking up some of the batter.
"Oh, Spencer is meeting with a really important sculpture client tonight, and he needs to bring desert," Carly explained. "So he paid me fifty bucks to make my famous layer cake."
"Hey, that's one of your deserts that's actually good!" Sam said.
"Huh?"
"I mean…gooder than the other delicious ones," Sam said lamely.
Carly rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I just have one more layer to make and then I'm going to make the frosting. Can you just hand me an egg from that carton?"
"There's no more eggs in here," Sam said, opening up the carton.
"What?" Carly exclaimed. "No! This cake needs to be done by six! I don't have time to run to the store and buy any more!"
"Well can't you just make your layer cake with the layer you already made?" Sam suggested.
"You can't have a layer cake with only one layer!" Carly snapped. "That's just a-a cake cake! Oh! I know, can you go across the hall and ask Freddie's mom if we can borrow one from her?"
"Why me?" Sam moaned.
"You're her daughter-in-law!" Carly said. "She'd be more likely to help you out than me. She hates me."
"Not nearly as much as she hates me," Sam argued. "I stole her Freddikins away from her!"
"Well she doesn't have any chances of getting grandchildren out of me!" Carly said triumphantly.
"Yeah but-but-ugh, fine!" Sam conceded. "I'll go ask her. She probably doesn't even have real eggs. She probably only has tofu eggs or something."
"Those aren't even real," Carly smirked.
Sam started across the hall to her mother-in-law's apartment and, after taking a deep breath, knocked at the door.
"Um, Marissa?" Sam called through the door. "It's me…Sam. Um, I-I know you're probably glaring at me on that security monitor you have in there but-but I'm just here to ask if-"
"To ask what?" Marissa asked suddenly, swinging the door open. "I don't have any other sons for you to corrupt."
Sam bit her tongue. "Um…listen, Carly is baking a cake across the hall and she just needs to borrow an egg. So do you have one or not?"
"An egg?" Marissa repeated indignantly. "You mean a cholesterol-filled death bomb?"
"Yeah, that," Sam nodded.
"Well!" Marissa said, pulling a tissue out of the robe pocket she was wearing and blowing her nose loudly. "I cannot believe the woman who married my son would have the audacity to assume I would eat such poison!"
"Alright, you don't have any," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "I'll just tell Carly that-"
"Hold on," Marissa said, giving a small cough. "I do have a few eggs that I use to make a special cleaner for my shoe bottoms. Free-range, of course. I suppose you can use one of those."
"Um okay, great," Sam said. "Thanks."
She followed Marissa into the apartment. As Marissa went to the fridge, Sam looked around and noticed that the normally neat and tidy home was much less organized than it ever was. There were empty boxes of tissues scattered everywhere and several blankets and pillows laid on the plastic-covered couch.
"Um, Marissa?" Sam said. "Are you sick or something?"
"Well what does it look like?" Marissa snapped, grabbing the egg from the fridge. "I disinfect and I disinfect and I still can't keep out all the germs! I must've brought something back from that disgusting grocery store when I went out to purchase asparagus yesterday!"
She gave another loud cough and gripped the counter for support.
"Oh," Sam said. "Well…are-are you okay? Do you have medicine? It's a little chilly in here too. Maybe if you turn the heat on you'll feel-"
"And risk starting a massive fire?" Marissa snapped. "I think not! Now here!"
She thrust the egg into Sam's hand. "You have your egg. Now just go back to making your sugar-covered cake and plotting more ways to drag my Freddie down your hoodlum path!"
Sam watched as Marissa's body shuddered as she gave another mighty cough. The woman's face was red, probably from a fever, and she looked absolutely exhausted and almost, well, helpless. Sam realized she had probably spent so many years fussing over Freddie that she really didn't know too much about taking care of herself."
"Look, Marissa, I-I'm not doing anything today," Sam said slowly. "And you seem really sick. Why don't I just hang around here and take care of you?"
"Why?" Marissa scoffed. "So you can torture me?"
Again, Sam bit her tongue. "No," she said. "Because, well, you-you seem like you could use some help. I mean look at you! This place is a mess, you can barely move without coughing up a lung, and you have enough mucus coming out of you to fill a swimming pool."
Marissa gasped.
"Look, I-I know normally Freddie would be your first choice to take care of you when you're sick, but he's kind of busy in Montana right now," Sam sighed. "So-So what about me? You need somebody here. I hear the elderly take sicknesses like, ten times worse than most people."
Marissa scoffed in response.
"Alright," Sam said. "I'm not just going to leave you alone like this. So…So I'll give you a choice. You can either let me take care of you or-or I'll call one of those at-home nursing services and you can have somebody who has been around other sick people all day come over here and do it. Someone who has been sneezed on by complete strangers who have all sorts or weird diseases and-"
"Alright!" Marissa cried. "Fine! You-You can stay, I suppose!"
"Good," Sam said, satisfied. "Now, um, just rest and I'll go make you some soup."
"I don't eat soup," Marissa said as she settled down on the couch. "I eat only plain broth."
Sam let out a long breath. "Fine. I'll make heat you up some plain broth."
"Heat it up? Do you want me to burn my tongue off?" Marissa exclaimed. "Honestly!"
What did I just do to myself? Sam thought miserably.
….
"I'm home!" Freddie announced a few days later as he let himself into his and Sam's home.
"Freddie!" Sam exclaimed, jumping up off the couch and running over to her husband, throwing her arms around him. "Baby! I've missed you so much! But-But what are you doing back? I thought your plane didn't get in until tonight."
"I wound up catching an earlier flight and I thought I'd surprise you," Freddie smiled, giving her a kiss.
"Aw, you're the best husband ever," Sam beamed, giving a little cough.
"You alright, Sam?" Freddie frowned, glancing over at the coffee table by the couch where Sam had been and spotting the tissues and medicine bottles. "Are you sick?"
"Yeah, a little," Sam sighed. "I caught your mom's cold."
"My mom's sick too?" Freddie asked. "Is she okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine now, thanks to me," Sam said. "I was a saint this weekend when I took care of her."
"Whoa, hold on," Freddie said. "You took care of my mom when she was sick?"
"Well, yeah," Sam shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? Leave her alone all sick and weak? But that was no picnic, I hope you know! I had to help her into a bath! I saw things, Freddie…things that will probably haunt me until I die."
"Wow, Sam, I-I can't believe you did that," Freddie said. "I know how my mom can sometimes be a bit…unpleasant towards you. It-It really means a lot to me that you would do that."
"Well, come on," Sam mumbled. "She's not just the crazy lady across the hall from Spencer anymore. She's my mother-in-law."
"Aw, baby," Freddie beamed. "That's so nice to hear you say."
"Yeah, well…consider it repayment for that time last week when you helped my mom with the corns on her feet."
"Hey, that's part of marriage, isn't it?" Freddie chuckled. "We both inherit each other's dysfunctional families."
"Guess so," Sam laughed. "Oh! Speaking of marriage…I want to show you something!"
She stepped over to the coffee table and picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to her husband.
"What is this?" Freddie asked, looking down at it. "It says it's from city hall."
"Read it," Sam said simply.
"Um, okay," Freddie said, scanning the page. "'This document confirms that from this day forwards the party previously known as Samantha Joy Puckett will no longer be referred to as such, and will be legally recognized as Samantha Joy Benson.' Wait, Sam! You-You took my last name!"
"Yeah, I-I decided being an official Benson would be kind of nice," Sam said. "I feel I earned the title after this weekened."
"You definitely did," Freddie grinned. "Mrs. Benson."
