They all gathered around the speaker phone, hearing her voice and missing her. Ross, upset, valiantly made his voice cheery as he spoke.
"We're all glad you're having such a great time in Paris, Rachel. We can't wait until Thanksgiving when you come back."
"Oh, about that," Rachel began, sorrow streaming through the speaker, "I'm not going to be able to make it. See, in America, its Thanksgiving. In France, it's Thursday. I can't get the time off, being so new over here. I've got a pile of work on my desk and I just can't get away."
"Rachel, that's too bad. Do you want me to put a hex on your boss for you? Then, you can blackmail them by letting you come if I take it off."
"Thanks, Pheebs, but no. My boss doesn't believe in hexes." They could hear the smile from across the Atlantic.
"Ooh ooh, Rach, is your boss cute?" Dirty looks greeted Phoebe when she looked up. "What?"
A laugh came from the phone. "Pheebs, he's 65, bald, and as big as Jared before he went to Subway."
"Hey, Rach, I gotta go to an audition. I'm up for a commercial for an anti-graying hair spray…thing."
"Joey, you don't have gray hair," said Chandler, right next to him.
"Yeah, but its all done with make-up."
"What? You mean those guys aren't really gray," a shocked Phoebe asked.
"No, I mean, what if they got the product and it didn't work. Its easier to make them gray than to make them not gray."
"Wow, spoil my fun."
"Huh, that ACTUALLY makes sense," said Mike.
"Hey Rach, we all gotta go. We'll talk next week, ok?" Monica said.
"Sure. I miss all of you. And I'm sorry about Thanksgiving."
The gang said their good-byes, except for Ross, who picked up the cordless to talk to his daughter.
As they spoke, Phoebe and Mike headed for the door. Phoebe was driving him to a performance at a bar mitzvah. As they went, Phoebe kept complaining to Joey about the wicked ways of corporate America, out just to fool the masses with their sexy, gray haired, men
Chandler went into his bedroom to get his suit jacket so he could head to work, while Monica went to clean up the breakfast dishes.
This was a weekly occasion. They got together and spoke to Rachel on the phone as a group, so they would never forget their friendship. They all, separately, spoke to Rachel throughout the week, mostly Ross to keep his connection to Emma, but their weekly talks were meant to keep the group together. They would eat, talk to each other, then talk to Rachel. It kept them as one.
"Hey, sweetie, I love you. Can you tell daddy 'I love you'?" A gurgled laugh was the response. Ross hung up the phone and hung his head as Chandler came back in the room.
"Hey, you alright, Ross?"
"I just can't believe that I'm going to miss this Thanksgiving with Emma. They've only been gone four months and I miss her like crazy" Ross hoped he hid who he really missed. He hid it, but not well enough. Chandler knew his best friend better than he knew himself.
"Dude, you just gotta realize, Rachel's doing what she wanted, where she wanted. How many times, when you two were dating, did you talk about going to Paris?" Chandler placed his hand on his best friends shoulder. "The closest she came was London for you wedding, then she flew over it when she took your honeymoon. To be that close, and not get there, well, she feels like this is part of what she missed."
"Yeah, I know. And I want her to be happy, but why couldn't she have been happy HERE?" Ross stood and gave his friend a short hug. "I gotta get to work. I have a couple lectures."
Ross gave Monica a peck on the cheek and grabbed a bagel on the way out the door. As soon as it was closed, Monica turned to Chandler.
"Remember, we only have to keep this secret for two more weeks. Then Rachel can surprise everyone and Ross will cheer up."
Chandler wrapped his arms around his wife. "Yeah, its just so hard seeing him like this, Mon. I hate keeping the secret from him."
Monica kissed her husband and said, "I know. It's hard for me too. Just knowing how happy he could be. It's just a good thing that we didn't tell Phoebe and Joey. They wouldn't be able to not tell Ross. You're still ok with telling Mike?"
"Yeah. I think you were right. He can keep a secret pretty well, and he does have to pick her up from the airport. I just hope Pheebs buys his story of a gig on the morning of Thanksgiving."
Chandler kissed his wife and headed out the door. Monica turned to sub-list C-7 to ensure that everything would be perfect for this year's Thanksgiving. The best one yet.
--
Ross stepped into his apartment after a long day. His ritual never changed. His briefcase went by the side chair, his jacket got hung up, he got a glass of water, and sat down on the couch. His eyes went to the answering machine and saw he had no new messages. He pushed the button anyway.
"Ross," came Rachel's voice, "hi. It's me. I just got back on the plane. And I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us. It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things...and...and now I'm just sitting here and thinking of all the stuff I should have said and I didn't. I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too. Because of course I do. I love you. I know if I got off this plane that everything would be right. We'd be together, and be loving each other."
"But, as much as being with you would make my life complete, right now, I have to be selfish. You know the saying, 'if you love something, set it free; if it returns it's meant to be'? Right now, I need to be set free, and I need to set you free. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I did, and I'm so sorry."
"I love you. But, I have to do this. I'm sorry." Rachel's voice ran off at the end and before the tape stopped, he could hear her give a sob.
He wiped his eyes. "I have to dust, I guess. So much stuff in the air." But, he knew it wasn't the dust. For one thing, Monica came by once a week and completely destroyed any dust she found. The other reason was that he'd never cried from dust, and he knew the real reason for his tears.