Guilty
"Jason is just so cute," Carly cooed as she bounced the infant up and down on her lap. "Aren't you Jason? Yes you are!"
"Yeah, he's real cute," Freddie nodded, looking up from the video game him and Spencer were playing. "Especially when he spits up all over you at breakfast…"
"Aw man, I hate getting spit up on at breakfast," Spencer said. "Used to happen to me all the time."
"When Brian and Dina were babies?" Freddie asked.
"No," Spencer replied.
"Um, well, while we're on the subject, what are the chances of him spitting up on me?" Carly frowned. "Because this is a new shirt."
"Eh, he usually just does it in the morning after Sam feeds him," Freddie said. "She calls it his karma for making her sick every morning when she was pregnant with him. But hang on, we have some burp clothes that will protect your clothes just in case. I think they're in the hall closet…"
He stood up and walked over to the nearby closet and opened the door, only to have a huge pile of junk come falling out at his feet.
"Oh come on!" Freddie moaned.
"Dude, why's your closet so cluttered?" Carly asked.
"Yeah, I thought you were Mr. Neat-and-Tidy," Spencer said.
"I am!" Freddie defended. "But my wife is Mrs. Messy-and-Disorganized! She does this all the time! She crams all her junk into every drawer and cabinet and closet with absolutely no organizational system! And then she wonders why she can never find anything!"
"Oh, I'm sure Sam's not that bad," Carly said, rolling her eyes.
"Carly, look at this mess!" Freddie exclaimed. "We have old shoes, magazines, a dozen yo-yos…she doesn't even need any of this stuff! She just doesn't want to throw any of it away because she's stubborn."
"Well, to be fair, both of you are pretty stubborn," Carly said. "I think that's what makes you such a great couple."
"Ha, ha," Freddie said dryly. "Hey…what time did Sam say she'd be back from helping her mom sort out that situation with the hair dresser?"
"Around five," Carly replied. "Why?"
"Alright, I think that's enough time for me to clean this closet out," Freddie said.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Spencer frowned. "You're gonna clean out Sam's stuff?"
"Yeah," Freddie shrugged. "It won't take that long. Most of this stuff looks like it can be thrown out anyway."
"Um, are you sure that's a good idea?" Carly asked. "Don't you think you should check with her first?"
"Carls, I'm sure Sam won't even notice," Freddie pointed out.
"I dunno, man, this seems like it's gonna end badly," Spencer said. "You know Sam doesn't like people touching her stuff."
"You guys, it's not like I'm throwing away anything important!" Freddie defended. "This stuff is junk! Like look at this old bike horn…what could Sam possibly want with this?"
Carly and Spencer exchanged glances.
"Well, Freddie, I think I'm gonna get out of here," Carly said, getting to her feet as she set Jason down in his playpen. "Because I do not wanna be here when Sam sees what you've done."
"Yeah, I'm with you," Spencer said, also getting up. "It's not gonna be pretty."
"What? You guys are being ridiculous!" Freddie called after them as they headed out of the house. "You guys-Fine! Go home, see if I care!"
As the front door closed, Freddie looked down at Jason in his playpen.
"You don't think mommy's gonna be mad at daddy for doing a little cleaning, do you?" Freddie asked the infant.
Jason smiled happily up at his father.
"Let's hope you're right," Freddie chuckled, rustling his son's hair.
….
"-So basically my mom can't get anymore dye jobs from Yvette down at the salon," Sam sighed later that evening as her and Freddie got ready for bed. "Which means she's gonna be going crazy finding new places to dye her hair weird colors. I swear, we should've done what Melanie did and moved away so we wouldn't have to deal with her."
"Come on, you wouldn't want to leave her all by herself," Freddie said. "What if Jason wants to move away from you when you get older?"
"Are you implying I'm gonna be a whackjob like my mom?" Sam frowned, glaring at her husband.
"Um…I-No!" Freddie said quickly. "Never!"
"Yeah, yeah, well I'm gonna go downstairs and watch T.V. for a little bit," Sam said.
"You're not going to bed?"
"Nah, I'm not really tired," Sam said. "I took a nap at my mom's place. I'll be up in a little bit."
"Alright," Freddie yawned, climbing into bed. "Night then."
Freddie felt himself drifting off to sleep. He didn't know how long exactly he was asleep, though, because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake.
"What!" Freddie exclaimed, his eyes flying open. "What? What's happening?"
"What did you do?" Sam snapped, turning on the light, causing Freddie to squint.
"Ah! Can you turn that off?" Freddie moaned.
"No!" Sam yelled. "Not until you tell me why you're the worst person in the world!"
"Aw jeez," Freddie sighed. "Why do I feel like I'm not gonna be getting back to sleep tonight?"
"What did you do to my closet?" Sam snapped, thumping the back of his head with a pillow. "Huh?"
"Ow!" Freddie cried.
"You destroyed it!" Sam continued, ignoring his protests.
"You mean I cleaned it," Freddie corrected.
"Why'd you do that?" Sam demanded. "It was fine the way I had it!"
"Sam, it was a disaster zone," Freddie said. "You were just using that closet as a place to store your junk."
"Junk?" Sam repeated.
"Er, your stuff," Freddie said quickly. "Look, all I did was organize it for you. Most people would be thankful, not vicious!"
"It was organized!" Sam said. "I knew where everything was in there! And now you've ruined that!"
"How on Earth could you call that closet organized?" Freddie scoffed.
"It just was!" Sam yelled. "Look…I don't want to deal with this right now. I'll finish punishing you in the morning. Just tell me where you put all my stuff so I can fix everything."
Freddie gulped. "Um, well…"
"What?" Sam frowned, narrowing her eyes.
"See, um, the-the thing is…I-I don't really have the stuff anymore," Freddie admitted.
Sam glared at him. "What do you mean you don't have it? Where is it?"
"Um…okay, I-I'm gonna need you to put that pillow down first," Freddie said.
"Dude…"
"I threw it out!" Freddie cried, bracing himself for the worst.
"You-you what?" Sam shrieked. "You threw out my stuff!"
"It-It was just junk!" Freddie defended weakly.
"No it wasn't!" Sam exclaimed. "I-Ugh! I cannot believe you! Oh! And the garbage truck picked up the trash today! That stuff is gone!"
"Okay, Sam, I think you're overreacting here," Freddie said. "Look, I'm sorry I threw out your ju-stuff, but it's not like that stuff was important."
"It was important to me!"
"Yeah, alright," Freddie said, rolling his eyes. "All I threw out was some old umbrellas, a bunch of bottle caps, a pair of slippers with soup stains all over them, this old bike horn-"
"The bike horn?" Sam repeated, her eyes widening. "You-You threw that away?"
"Sam, come on, that thing was rusted and useless," Freddie said. "What reason could there possibly have been for you not throwing it away."
Sam said nothing as she stepped across the room to the closet. She reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a large photo album. She flipped through it for a moment before stepping back over to the bed and thrusting it into Freddie's hands.
"What is this?" Freddie asked.
"That," Sam said, pointing to a picture of her four-year old self riding a bright red bicycle. "Is the bike that my Uncle Carmine taught me how to ride. He bought me and Melanie each our own one because he said we already had to share too much. He saved up for ages to get us those bikes. He could've got them the way he got most of his other stuff…by stealing, but he said he wanted any present he gave to us to be bought honestly. Every day when he would finish up work at the fish gutting factory he would come to my house to teach us to ride them. But then one night his friends were mad at him over some bet they had lost and to get even with him, they came over and smashed our bikes up. It was the maddest I've ever seen him…But anyway, the only thing he saved from the bikes was that old horn. The horn that you threw away! It was special to me, you jerk! And now it's gone! I wanted to put it on Jason's bike when he was learning to ride!"
"I-I didn't know that!" Freddie moaned, feeling an immense wave of guilt sweeping over him. "I thought it was just some dumb nick-nack! I-I'm sorry, Sam. Really, I-What can I do to make this up to you?"
"Nothing," Sam said bitterly. "You've already done enough."
She grabbed her pillow and a blanket.
"Sam, sweetie, don't go sleep down on the couch," Freddie sighed. "Listen, I-I feel really awful-"
"You should!" Sam snapped. She looked down at her pillow. "Actually, I'm not gonna sleep downstairs."
"Thank you," Freddie said. "Look, I-"
"You are," Sam said.
"I am?"
Sam simply glared at him.
"Yeah, okay," Freddie conceded, gathering his pillows and blankets.
….
The next day Freddie sat miserably at the kitchen table, trying to think of something he could do to make his wife feel better.
He heard the kitchen door open and Spencer stepped inside.
"Hey, how goes it?" Spencer asked.
"I'm a horrible husband, Spence," Freddie sighed.
"Uh-oh," Spencer frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Well…you know how you and Carly thought that Sam would be, er, less than pleased if I cleaned out the closet yesterday?"
"Ah," Spencer nodded. "So she's wazzed off at you? Well, come on, dude, it's not like it's the first time she's been mad at you. Just wait it out and I'm sure-"
"No, Spencer, I-I really screwed up," Freddie said. "I threw out something really special of Sam's yesterday when I was cleaning. Something that actually had a lot of sentimental meaning behind it."
"What was it?" Spencer asked.
"This old bike horn that was part of this bike that her Uncle Carmine bought her and taught her to ride," Freddie explained.
"Whoa, he Uncle Carmine bought her that bike?" Spencer said. "He didn't steal it or have it illegally shipped in from Mexico?"
"That's right," Freddie said miserably. "The one honest purchase he's ever made in his life, and it was for her…and I threw it away."
"Well why don't you just fish it out of the trash?" Spencer suggested.
"If I could do that, don't you think I would've?" Freddie snapped. "They've already come for the trash! That bike horn is sitting at the dump now, lost forever. Man, Spence, I feel so guilty. You should've seen how hurt Sam was over this."
"Wait, it's at the dump?" Spencer frowned.
"Well I assume that's where the trash goes," Freddie shrugged.
"Why didn't you say so? You can still get it back!" Spencer said, jumping up.
"How?" Freddie said. "Spence, the dump is huge, and that horn wasn't that big. It's literally like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"So? You'll just have to dig through some garbage," Spencer said.
"Garbage?" Freddie cringed. "At the dump? Spencer, do you have any idea how many germs that place has? I'd probably contract some weird disease or something!"
"Fine then," Spencer said. "You can stay all clean here while your poor wife's beloved bike horn sits and rots in the dump."
"Come on, I feel guilty enough," Freddie said. "You-You know I hate germs…my mom's trained me to fear them since the day I was born! Me in a dump…it-it would be a disaster. Everything getting all over me, the smells, it would be a nightmare! I can't go there, I just can't, I-I…oh get your keys. We're going to the dump!"
….
"Well Jason, it's seven o'clock and daddy's still not home," Sam said as she sat at the kitchen table, where Freddie's cold meal was waiting for him. "He's lucky I even made him food after what he did to mommy, and he doesn't even have the decency to show up to eat? This is what we call him 'digging himself into a deeper hole'."
The infant happily cooed from his highchair.
"I know," Sam smiled, wiping strained peas from his face. "Mommy has to put up with so much, doesn't she? Hey, wanna help me brainstorm ways to punish daddy? It's fun!"
Just then Sam head the front door open.
"Oh look Jason, it's your daddy," Sam said as Freddie walked into the kitchen. "The man who throws away mommy's important, cherished childhood memories. The man who-whoa! Dude, why do you stink?"
"Sanitizer, I need sanitizer," Freddie mumbled, quickly grabbing the container of hand sanitizer from the kitchen counter and rubbing it all over himself. "I need to burn these clothes, too. Ugh…I can still feel gunk in my shoes."
"What were you doing?" Sam frowned.
"I was at the dump," Freddie replied as he continued to rub hand sanitizer all over himself.
"The dump?" Sam repeated. "Why were you there? You're terrified of dumps!"
"Yeah, and for good reasons," Freddie shuddered. "It was awful, Sam. Stuff drips on you, there's rotting food everywhere, and the odor…I think I blacked out a few times. Oh, and that place is huge! I was there for six hours and I think I only made it through a tenth of that place."
"Again, why were you at the dump for six hours?" Sam asked.
Freddie sighed. "Okay, look. I-I felt horrible about throwing away that bike horn. I didn't realize that it meant so much to you. So, I-I went with Spencer and the two of us spent the day at the dump looking for it."
"You actually did that?" Sam said slowly. "You willingly went to a place that is covered in filth? A place that is the definition of an unorganized pig sty?"
"Well…yeah," Freddie nodded. "I-I wanted to make you feel better. I-I hated riffling through everything at that dump…I mean I really hated it. But it's better than knowing that I had hurt you."
"Oh…dude," Sam sighed. "You-You didn't have to go through a dump for me. I would've gotten over this eventually. I mean…I guess it was an honest mistake."
"Yeah, well," Freddie said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bike horn. "Now you won't have to get over it."
"Holy chiz!" Sam gasped, taking the horn. "You found it?"
"Yeah, turns out they separate the trash piles by the day they were dumped," Freddie said. "So that helped a little. Plus Spencer is real familiar with the place. We found it by this rotting head of lettuce and a huge bag of old diapers…so, um, we should probably clean that horn real good."
"I-I can't believe you went there and spent all day looking for this," Sam said softly. "That must've been horrible."
"It-It wasn't that bad," Freddie said modestly. "After three hours, my nose became numb so the smell didn't bother me that much."
Sam gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Freddie. I-That was really sweet of you."
"Anytime, baby," Freddie said. "Anytime. But now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a nice two-hour shower."
