Flush
"Come on, Tyler, work with me here," Freddie said as he sat on his and Sam's bed, struggling to pull a sky blue onsie over the three-month old. "We need to get you dressed so you and your brother and sisters can go to grandma's while mommy and me go out for a much deserved quiet dinner alone."
"This is unbelievable!" Sam fumed as she came out of the couple's adjoining bathroom in her bathrobe.
"I know; this kid just won't stop squirming," Freddie said.
"No! I'm talking about me!" Sam snapped.
"What about you?" Freddie frowned. "By the way, Sam, you should probably start getting dressed. I'm not rushing you, but our reservations are in forty-five minutes and we still have to drop the kids off at your mom's."
"Oh I would love to get dressed!" Sam scoffed. "But unfortunately none of my clothes fit me! I still have my baby weight from Tyler!"
"Oh, well then just wear one of your maternity dresses," Freddie shrugged.
"Are you kidding me, Fredwad?" Sam said, shaking her head. "I'm not wearing one of those dresses; they look like sacks! It's bad enough having to wear them when I'm actually pregnant. Now it would just be humiliating!"
"Well Sam, you know I think you look beautiful whether you wear a sack or a cocktail dress," Freddie said, finally getting onsie onto Tyler. "So just find anything and-"
"I don't get it," Sam moaned, flopping down onto the bed. "It's never taken me this long to get off my pregnancy weight; it's been three months! With Jason it was gone in three weeks, and with the twins it took a month. And there were two of them!"
"You were younger when you had them too," Freddie pointed out. "So your body was-"
"Oh, so now I'm fat and old?" Sam said, glaring at her husband.
"No!" Freddie said at once. "I just-You-Here, Tyler wants you!"
Freddie quickly handed Sam the infant, and almost instantly Sam's expression relaxed.
"Oh, you're lucky you're so cute," Sam smiled, tickling the child's stomach. "Mommy can't even be mad at you for making her fat."
"Baby, you're not fat," Freddie said, rolling his eyes. "Lots of women have, er, some difficulties losing their pregnancy weight. Besides, it's not like you're five hundred pounds now or something. You've always been really fit; which is still so strange considering what you eat…but really Sam, you look great. You don't need to be freaking out over not losing the weight so quickly. You're like, ten pounds heavier than your usual weight. Big deal!"
"Ten pounds?" Sam repeated.
"Yeah, nothing to-"
"Actually," Sam said coolly as she stood up and handed Tyler back to Freddie. "I'm only eight pounds heavier than I was before I got pregnant."
"Oh…" Freddie said lamely as Sam spun on her heel and stormed out of the bedroom. He looked down at Tyler in his arms. "I might be bunking with you tonight, buddy."
….
"Where did you go?" Sam asked later that evening as Freddie came back into the house.
"Dropped the kids off at your mom's," Freddie said. "Like we planned."
"I told you, I'm not going out anywhere," Sam said firmly. "I'm fat, I don't fit into any of my clothes-"
"Relax," Freddie said gently. "We're not going out. I still say you're being ridiculous; you look beautiful. But…I don't want you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, so I picked up dinner for us and I thought we could have a romantic night here. You can even wear your sweats."
"Oh…" Sam said slowly. "Okay, I guess that sounds nice."
"Great," Freddie smiled as he set the bag he was carrying down on the table. "I've got ribs, extra barbecue sauce, and-"
"Dude, are you kidding me?" Sam snapped.
"What? Did you want wings?" Freddie frowned. "Or-"
"Did you not hear anything I was saying earlier? I'm fat!" Sam snapped. "Why would you bring delicious barbecue that I can't eat here to taunt me?"
"What do you mean you can't eat it?"
"I'm going on a diet, genius," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "Until I lose these last eight pounds. Though maybe I should stick with it until I lose ten, since clearly-"
"Sam, no, baby, this is insane," Freddie said. "You don't need to go on a diet!"
"Freddie, I tried on six dresses today, and I couldn't get the zipper up on any of them!" Sam said. "Besides, you're always the one telling me I should eat healthier, so here you go."
"I don't want you to go on a diet because you think you need to lose weight, though," Freddie said. "Sam, I don't know how many times I can say this; you're perfect. You're so beautiful."
"You're just saying that because you're my husband," Sam mumbled.
"That's right, I'm your husband," Freddie nodded. "So…why won't you listen to what I'm telling you? You're gorgeous."
Sam looked down at her feet. "Look, thank you for saying all that, but…just drop it, okay? You might think all that, but…I don't so…yeah, just-just leave it."
"But Sam," Freddie frowned. "How can you possibility think you're not beautiful?"
"Freddie, it's nothing," Sam said. "Forget I said anything. Let's just…let's just skip dinner and watch a movie or something."
"But Sam, I just-I-I can't believe you-"
"Baby, seriously-"
"No," Freddie said, gently but firmly, putting his hands on his shoulder. "Sam, you're so perfect. And-And hearing that you don't think so…it hurts."
"Why should it bother you?"
"Because," Freddie said simply. "I love you."
He leaned down and kissed Sam passionately, yet softly. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world, and it wouldn't matter if you were three hundred pounds; that still wouldn't change a thing. And to see you doubt that…"
He kissed her again. "I just wish you could see that," he whispered when he pulled away.
Sam gave a small smile as her face flushed crimson. "You're really something, nub."
"And you're perfect, Sam," Freddie said, embracing her tightly. "Really."
