iLay Down the Law

Melanie Benson raced around the first floor of the home she shared with Freddie like a chicken whose head had been lopped off. It was his job to rein her in.

"Relax, Sweetheart… It's not that major…"

"Speak for yourself! Everything was in there! I had a three-month head start! Now what am I going to do?"

She had lost track of her handmade leather portfolio, which contained artwork, notes, scribbles, doodles, lyrics for new songs, and a CD of the few new tracks that she had laid down in her home studio, with her wonderful husband engineering. She had been so consumed by the search this morning that she was still only partially dressed.

He whistled at her, sing-song, from across the room. He was holding up her brown leather folder, which had somehow gotten left next to their armchair in the far corner of the room. It was easy to have missed, especially when one was racing around the room like a crazed, blonde spitfire.

She ran to him, so exuberant that she leapt into his arms, her legs around his waist. She kissed him, reminding him why he was the most wonderful man in the world.

"Alright… Alright… I didn't do anything!"

She giggled, her stocking feet finding the floor again.

"Yes you did… You saved me… My Hero!"

She was being overly dramatic, and for good reason. She wanted no part of this business meeting today to discuss the production schedule for her second album. She had been running around at a break-neck pace for the past six weeks. She simply wanted a day to herself, to sleep in with Freddie, and be a normal couple.

"Go on now, go…"

Freddie swatted his wife playfully across the backside. She certainly didn't mind.

TWO HOURS LATER, DOWNTOWN…

Melanie Benson sat, her husband at her side, at the far end of the conference table in the twenty-second floor office suite belonging to her record label. She did her best to hold back her emotions. She knew that she held all the cards. She was not contractually obligated to return to the studio to begin production on her follow-up album for another six months. The collection of suits at the opposite end of the table were laying out plans for a concert tour spanning North America, as well as stops in the Pacific Rim and Europe.

Mythical Melanie was having none of it. She knew from the get-go that she held all the cards. She was a Puckett by birth. She would do what it took to get them to come around to her way of thinking, regardless of what that might be. She waved them off dismissively.

"That's all very nice, boys, but remind me again why I'm here? According to my contract, the only thing I am obligated to, outside of the America Sings concert tour dates, is the album release…"

"Miss Puckett…"

Melanie would not be interrupted.

"That's Missus Benson, Thank You Very Much!"

Point well taken.

"Missus Benson…" the suit corrected himself, "if I may, why are you averse to the dates as proposed?"

Mel squeezed Freddie's hand a bit harder than she'd intended. It was clear that they were a united front. She glanced to her left, nodding to her agent. She wasn't about to deal with anymore of this. This was what she paid him to deal with. The look on her face told all parties concerned that this was one hundred percent, absolutely non-negotiable.

"Missus Benson wishes that you would reconsider the dates. It isn't that she doesn't appreciate what this company has done for her, it's simply that, due to family concerns, she wishes to postpone any concert dates or other promotional appearances not related to the CD release for the next four to six months."

Melanie smirked. It was wonderful to flex her negotiation muscles outside of Uncle Carmine's back room.

"Excuse me?"

Freddie could hear Melanie grind her teeth. This wasn't going to fly. That tore it. He could see that things were about to get real fighty, real fast.

She glared across the table.

"Family concerns means it's a family matter!"

For a second, Freddie wondered if he'd mistakenly married Sam. Melanie continued, ice cold.

"My sister is expecting twins. I would like some time to spend with the new additions to our family before being on tour for the next three months. That's all I'm asking for, no more, no less."

Freddie was impressed. He knew just how much the impending arrival of the twins meant to Melanie. He had half expected her to launch herself across the table and strangle the record exec with his own necktie. He chuckled to himself when he realized his mistake.

Wrong sister.

AT BUSHWELL PLAZA…

Carly rested on the sofa. Sam had been good enough to leave her with the remote and a good book while she ran errands. The prissy little brunette nearly jumped out of her skin when Sam's key turned in the lock.

"Hey Cupcake…"

"Jeez, Sam… Don't do that!"

"What? Come home with the groceries?"

She smirked.

Carly stuck her tongue out. She wasn't about to have Sam confuse her with her logic.

"You just shush, Sam Puckett… Your babies and I don't need that…"

Sam smiled.

"Yes, you do… my three little Cupcakes are eating well tonight… I have Uncle Carmine's recipe for Pasta Carbonara..."

This was emotional blackmail. Sam knew that Carly was a sucker for her cooking, especially something that had originated in the kitchen at Il Terrazzo Carmine.

Sam laughed. Carly was so hungry that the thought of Uncle Carmine's Carbonara had turned her into one of Pavlov's dogs. Sam knew she couldn't let this be. She needed to tease Carls about it, just a little bit. Sam gently tapped the corner of her own mouth with the tip of her finger.

"Umm, Cupcake… you've got… you know… just there…"

Carly was immediately hideously embarrassed.

"Oh my God!"

Sam had crossed the threshold and was now holding her brunette close.

"Relax… it's Uncle Carmine's carbonara… I get it… now you just relax while Mama takes care of you…"

Carly knew better than to argue with Sam. As much as she wanted to help and do her fair share, she knew that Sam's 'You're eating for three' argument would trump anything she could ever come up with. She decided that staying put was by far the most judicious course of action.

Sam again picked up her three grocery sacks and made her way to the kitchen. Carly stretched out on the sofa, mortified at the realization that she could no longer see her toes. This aside, she knew she would never have to worry. She had Sam and that was all that mattered.