TOW Marcel II
One-Shot 12-year-old Emma wants a monkey for her next birthday, and Ross can't say no.
A/N: I've missed the Friends section! I don't know why I've stopped for so long, I guess I just got caught up in other stories. But I do miss Friends one-shots; they're so fun.
"So Em, how was school today?" Ross asked, cutting into the chicken cutlet and taking a bite. His twelve-year-old daughter was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, his wife in the seat next to him.
Sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky he was. After Monica and Chandler moved with the twins, he and Rachel tied the knot barely six months later. Then they slowly came to realize that they couldn't stay in his apartment forever. They now lived down the street from his sister, so close that the twins would be attending Emma's middle school next year.
Apparently they'd started a trend. Before long Phoebe and Mike were moving to the neighborhood too, Phoebe pregnant with triplets, all girls (yes, triplets again – sometime during labor she'd sworn off the 'evil demonic forces that made up the male species').
Joey was now a famous sitcom star, and he and his wife Alex now had a six-year-old son, Joey Jr. When he'd come back from his stay in California and realized all his friends had moved to Westchester, he and Alex spent months looking for a house that was in the neighborhood.
If anyone told him fifteen years ago that this was how him and his friends would end up – all established parents in a suburban neighborhood – he wouldn't have believed it.
"….and I got an A on my science paper! Isn't that great, Daddy?" Emma gushed, looking up from her plate for an instant to see his reaction.
Snapping out of his reverie, Ross gave an excited nod. "That's great, monkey! I told you you'd be able to do it with a little bit of studying. You do have my genes, after all."
Emma blushed at the pet name. "Monkey" had been a nickname Ross used for her since she was a little girl, ever since she went to the Central Park Zoo and stayed at the monkey exhibit all day. Now older, Emma frequently worried that the term referred to her rather large nose (Rachel had denied knowing where she got it from for the longest time, but the mystery was cleared up instantly when Emma found the prom video in her parents' closet).
"Dad, I told you to stop calling me that!" Emma whined. "I'll be thirteen next week!"
Laughing, Rachel remarked, "That's right! We have some birthday shopping to do! Oh, this is so exciting, my little girl's going to be thirteen!"
"Mom…" Emma sighed, obviously trying not to roll her eyes.
Noting that, Ross warned, "Emma, what'd we tell you about rolling your eyes?"
"That if I keep doing it, they'll get stuck that way," Emma recited, exasperation in her tone. "But Dad, she's so embarrassing! Every time I even mention my birthday she starts crying!"
"I do not!" Rachel protested, then tried to discreetly dab at her eyes with her napkin.
Her shoulders sagging, Emma said, "There she goes again."
"Here honey, want a tissue?" Ross offered, taking one out of his blazer pocket. She accepted it without saying a word.
Emma shook her head. "See what I mean?"
"Well, deal with it!" Rachel snapped, though it was in a joking voice. "I'm your mother, I'm entitled to cry when it's your birthday!"
Or any other holiday, Ross thought, but kept it to himself for fear of retaliation. Changing the subject, he asked, "So, what do you want for your birthday, Em? You haven't mentioned anything specific yet, and you're cutting it pretty close."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about that," Emma replied, putting her fork down and sitting straight in her chair.
Trading glances with Rachel, Ross raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"See, in class, we've been learning about jungle mammals," Emma began.
Rachel stared at her. "You're answering a question about birthday presents with a sentence about jungle mammals? This can't be good."
"Mom, just listen," Emma pleaded. "Look, we had to do reports, and while I was looking up gorillas, I found a picture of the cutest capuchin monkey. You know people have them as pets?"
"Oh no, no way," Rachel said, crossing her arms. "I will not have a monkey in this house!"
Pouting, Emma begged, "Aw, come on! Dad had one!"
"How did you find out about Marcel?" Ross asked, surprised. While they hadn't exactly kept Marcel a secret, both he and Rachel decided it would be better off not mentioning him to Emma. For this precise reason.
Emma gave a sheepish grin. "I found a picture of him in one of the old photo albums. And then I asked Uncle Chandler about it. He said that Marcel pooped in Aunt Monica's shoe once and loved the song 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight.'"
"That's exactly why you can't get one. It'll tear up the whole house!" Rachel argued.
Purposely widening her eyes and sticking out her lower lip, Emma said, "Please? I promise to take really good care of him! I'm old enough!"
"I doubt it. Taking care of a monkey is hard work," Rachel protested, frustration showing through her tone.
Though he wanted to support his wife, Ross was just had to point out, "I don't think age has anything to do with it, hon. You were in your twenties when you lost Marcel while you were supposed to be watching him."
"Ross! Not helping!" Rachel exclaimed.
Laughing, Emma asked, "You let Mom baby-sit Marcel? And she lost him?"
"He snuck out the door when I went to dump out the poop he left in Monica's shoe," Rachel defended, blushing in embarrassment.
Ross smirked. "You mean while you were watching soap operas."
"That was twenty years ago, can we let it drop, please?" Rachel snapped, then refocused her attention on Emma. "Sweetie, I'm sorry, but you're not getting a monkey. End of discussion."
Knowing he was going to pay for this later, Ross argued, "I don't know, Rach. I loved having Marcel."
"He pooped all over your apartment," Rachel reminded him, ticking off her points on her fingers. "He liked Chandler more than you. He always wanted to listen to 'The Lion Sleeps tonight.' He nearly ripped your date's earring out of her ear. And, last but not least, you had to give him up."
"But that was Marcel. Maybe the monkey I get will be different," Emma put in.
Sighing, Ross realized that Rachel was right. While he loved having Marcel, he remembered how heartbroken he had been when the monkey…'grew up' and had to be given away to a zoo. "Emma, I'm sorry, but your mother's right. Marcel was great…"
"We could call him Marcel II!" Emma interrupted, grasping for straws.
That would be cute, Ross thought. Then he shook his head. "No, no, I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I was devastated when I had to give him up after a few months."
"Why did you have to give him up?" Emma asked innocently.
Ross paused, looking at Rachel, who shrugged. How was he supposed to explain to his twelve-year-old daughter that Marcel had reached the point where he humped everything he saw? Clearing his throat, he began, "Because….because Marcel…he…needed to be with other monkeys. He…wasn't happy living with me. All monkeys have to live with other monkeys otherwise they get…sad. And lonely."
"Alright," Emma mumbled. After a few moments of pushing her remaining dinner around her plate with her fork, she let the fork fall and asked, "May I be excused?"
"Of course," Ross answered, then let out a deep sigh as his obviously upset daughter ran up to her room.
Once they were alone, Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Because they get 'sad'?"
"Well, what was I supposed to tell her?" Ross retorted, realizing he no longer wanted the few bites of food that were still on his plate.
Rubbing his hand with hers, Rachel asked softly, "You miss him, don't you?"
"A little," Ross admitted.
Smiling, Rachel got up and kissed him on the forehead. "Well, maybe for Emma's birthday we can get her a dog."
Ross grinned, then kissed her back. "There's an idea!"