iHost a Dinner Party

Sam felt the gentle tingle of a vibrating cell phone in the pocket of her cargo pants. Seeing who the message was from, she stuffed the phone back into her pants pocket and made a beeline for the little half bath tucked in the front hallway, near Spencer's bedroom. The pasta would keep for two minutes unattended.

"Sam!"

"Back in a minute, Cupcake!"

Sam ran inside, slammed the bathroom door, and locked it behind her. She had hoped that Carly hadn't seen the flush of embarrassment on her face. If that were the case, she'd be caught and all of this – everything Sam had hoped for and dreamed of – would likely be over.

She pulled the phone from her pocket and flipped it open. She had a new text message.

NEW MESSAGE

FROM: Marx

Sent: 4:47 PM, PST

Sam:

I'm ashamed of myself. About the other night, I know I shouldn't have… If you hate me now, I get it. I'm sorry. Friends? – Shelby

Sam wanted to throw up. She figured that this was coming. After what Shelby had confided in her, she completely understood why she had become a fighter – and a damn good one at that. She had been treated as harshly by her own family as Sam had by Pam, if not more so. It followed, at least to Sam's line of thinking, that Shelby's personal boundaries got a bit hazy. Sam could forgive that. She texted her back.

NEW MESSAGE

TO: Marx

Shel:

Aint no thing. Your secret's safe with me. Collect the wife and join us for dinner. – SP

Sam choked down the discomfort rising in her chest, flushed the toilet, and ran the sink; so as to give the appearance she was washing her hands. She was being dishonest, sure, but it wasn't as though she'd cheated on Carly. Carly was her Cupcake. Even in a world where they were both single, Shelby Marx would never be Sam Puckett's type – they were far too much alike. Sam and Carly Puckett were yin and yang. Sam Puckett and Shelby Marx could only ever be yin and yin.

Sam exited the restroom and rejoined her spouse in the living room. She played everything off smoothly.

"Oh, Cupcake, I almost forgot… I invited Wendy and Shelby for dinner… You know how much that recipe always makes."

It sounded awful convenient, but Carly also knew that Uncle Carmine's recipes tended to be, shall we say, a tad on the generous side. She smiled.

LATER THAT EVENING…

The Marx family darkened Carly's doorstep at six thirty that evening. Sam was still in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. True to Puckett form, even an intimate dinner for four friends would end up feeding a dozen. The buzzer went off, Carly fully intent on waddling her very pregnant self over to the door to answer it. Sam was having none of it. She left the slotted spoon in the pot on the stove and ran through the living room to the door, fussing at Carly along the way.

"Park it, Missy…"

Sam's finger pushed the button. The intercom crackled to life.

"Yo…"

Wendy's voice came over the speaker.

"It's us…"

Sam smirked. Just like in high school, Wendy needed to be the center of attention.

"C'mon up, ladies…"

MOMENTS LATER…

Sam ushered the Marxs into the living room, playing hostess as best she could while cooking and attending to Carly's needs. Wendy, now a bit rough around the edges, looked as though she could go into labor at any time. She still insisted on being the same old Wendy. She held her arms out wide, begging for a hug from her old friend.

"Sam!"

The blonde humored her.

"Hey Wendy…"

Shelby and Sam eyed each other uneasily. They both knew that a hug was out of the question.

"Hey Shel…"

Shelby could read that look in Sam's eyes. They were both sorry for what had happened, however innocent and gentle it had been. Shelby just did what she did best. She dialed up the tough, macho façade that was reserved for public events and fight nights.

"Sup?"

Sam smirked at her. She knew what Shelby had just done and why.

"Hey Marx, you'd better help your little wifey there to the sofa…"

It was clear that Wendy was having a bit of a difficult time. Shelby escorted her to the sofa to join Carly, her hand instantly in the small of her partner's back. Her voice was gentle. Sam knew that it was sincere. She lingered on the image of Shelby with Wendy for a moment before returning to the kitchen.

The blonde glanced out from the kitchen island, surveying the scene. She was contented. Life was just about perfect. What she had now was nearly all she'd ever wanted. Everything appeared to be just so, but, truly, it was completely upside-down. She and Shelby, by all outward appearances, wore the pants in their respective families. Truth be told, however, they were closet daffodils. Sam would deny it as long as there was breath in her body, but her Cupcake was always the one who held all the cards.

She knew that in a very short time, the four of them would be celebrating the expansion of their families, and it warmed her heart. She wasn't a father, but she'd agreed to be Carly's big, strong protector. Carly would always be Mommy to their little ones. Sam was perfectly happy being Mama.

AFTER DINNER…

The two couples huddled around the coffee table for after-dinner drinks. Sam and Shelby had black coffee while their ladies were allowed herbal tea. They sat and talked about the wonders of parenthood.

"So, have you guys picked out a name for your little one?" Carly asked, excited.

Wendy obliged her.

"We've settled on Megan."

Carly and Sam both agreed that it was a nice name. Shelby, at her first opportunity, turned the tables on the Pucketts.

"And what about you two? Have you come up with names for your little brood?"

Carly knew that Shelby was kidding, but hearing her little people referred to as a brood made her feel like she was carrying a litter of puppies.

Sam spoke up.

"Well, since we found out we're having girls – God, how scary is that, right? – We've gotten names pretty much nailed down. Call me sentimental, but Carls has agreed to naming one of the girls for my sister. As for the other, we're thinking of naming the other for the Doc…"

The Marxs looked at each other quizzically. There was definitely more to this story.

Carly Puckett cut them off.

"We've got our reasons. I just hope that our kids are as good of friends as we are. It's… I dunno… nice."

Sam put her hand on her partner's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. It had been a wonderful night.