Hi! This is my first attempt at a fanfic. So help me out here!
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong to the creators of the show. And that's not me. I wish it was, but while I deal with that on my own. Read my story.
You asked us to write a paper on our parents. Whether or not they taught us anything. You asked us to have it be five pages long. I'm thinking that this is the most easy assignment I have ever done. This is why:
I know that I'm lucky. My parents love me and my sister and brothers more then anything else. Well, except each other. My Aunt Phoebe says that they're lobsters. I don't know exactly what that means, but my dad taught me a long time ago not to question Aunt Pheebs. My parents had me and spoiled me rotten. They argued over my name for a long time, my aunt Rachel told me. Mom wanted Maggie, but Dad hated the name Margaret.
"What about Magdalene then?" Mom asked and Dad stuck out his tongue in disgust.
"Are you kidding me with this Monica?" He asked and she sighed. So I am not Maggie, or Margaret, or Magdalene, I am Grace, or Gracie as everyone calls me. Grace Lillian, after Aunt Phoebe's mother, who I am now told stuck her head in the oven. Great name sake right? They got tired of just spoiling me I suppose, so they had my brother, Charlie. Charles Joseph, after Uncle Joey and my dad's dad. This made my Uncle Ross very mad.
"I'm her brother!" He cried in his Uncle Ross way. Mom and Dad sighed per usual after one of Uncle Ross's rants, and allowed him to be godfather. After all, Uncle Joey is mine, it wasn't as if they were taking anything away from him. Aunt Rachel is my godmother, and Aunt Phoebe became Charlie's. When I was four, and Charlie was two, Mom got pregnant again and had my sister, Molly. Molly Rachel. And two years after that, Mom had my brother Sam. Samuel Ross, to please Uncle Ross. Dad said he sounded like one of the men that signed the declaration of Independence. Mom said that she had just spent twelve hours giving birth, and could we not talk about that right now? I was six, Charlie was four, Molly was two. My mom had done what she wanted, she had two girls and two boys, and we were all two years apart. Like steps, she told me. I giggled when she compared us to steps and Mom laughed and tickled me. She was tucking me in. Dad came in next and tucked the covers around my chin.
"Good night, Princess Gracie Sue," he told me. Gracie Sue was he nickname for me, although my middle name was not Sue. When I commented on this once he told me that if had had his way it would have been.
"Like a boy named Sue," he told me. I was confused. I was not a boy and I was not named Sue. This was a lot for a six-year-old to digest and he kissed me and told me that he would explain later. One Christmas, Charlie and I snuck onto the stairs to watch for Santa. We saw a man and Mom dancing in the living room. I gasped at the sight, and wanted to run and get my dad, when I realized that that was my dad. I ran down and told them to get to bed that Santa would be there and he wouldn't come if they were gallivanting in the living room. Mom had giggled and told me I was absolutely right. She leaned down and picked me up and I rested my head against her shoulder. She was wearing a gray sweater and it was soft and warm. Dad followed and picked up Charlie.
"Here you go, Charlie Brown," he said. He had nicknames for all of us. Mom laid me in her bed instead of my own.
"Want to sleep in here with me and Daddy?" She asked and I nodded as I began to drift off to sleep. Dad came in and kissed Mom. Mom slid in bed next to me and pulled me close to her. I snuggled up against her warm body and fell fast asleep. I remember waking up many Saturday mornings and running down the steps. She would be in the kitchen making breakfast. She would hit my bottom playfully as I ran past into the living room. Dad would be sitting in his chair reading the paper as I came bounding in.
"There's my girl, we were wondering when you'd get up," he told me as I hopped onto his lap. Molly and Charlie would come down next, this was after Molly had moved into a big girl bed. Mom would hear Sam crying and go up and get him and place him in his playpen. Molly and I would stand waiting for the part where we would get to put the chocolate chips in. The doorbell would ring and Dad would and answer it. It was usually Aunt Rachel and Uncle Ross first with their kids, Marissa, Henry and Jonathon. Marissa was only a year younger then me, and Henry was Charlie's age. Jon was Molly's age. Then Uncle Joey and Aunt Phoebe would come in with their kids. They had two girls, Lila, also my age, and Jessica, Molly's age, and their son Christopher, who was four months younger then Sam. We were all the same age. We all lived in generally the same area. We had a large house in White Plains, New York. It was white with blue shutters and a large in-ground pool. It had five bedrooms, so that none of us had to share. Uncle Ross lived two streets over in a slightly smaller house. Joey and Phoebe lived about two more streets over in a three bedroom. Even though our house was the biggest, Uncle Joey's and Aunt Phoebe's was the most fun to play at. There were a lot of questionable items, and Mom comments now that she doesn't know how those kids aren't in therapy. Anyways, I loved my room. Looking back on it now, I think that is why I'm so particular with my room now. Mom said that she loved the colors yellow and blue. The walls were a pale blue, with a border of yellow daisies. My nightstand always had flowers on it. My sister's room was pink and purple, and it was a very pretty room, but it didn't compare to mine. I had a bear that Dad gave to me when I was a newborn that I named Dexter. We had a golden retriever, because my mother read up on it and found out that they were good with kids. We named him Rocky after Dad's favorite movie. One summer day we were all out in the pool with Mom and Dad. Dad was dunking me under the water and I splashed him. Mom was in the shallow end with Molly and Sam in their swimmies, Charlie was five and I was seven, and we had taken swimming lessons because Mom had insisted that we know how by time we were five. Molly had just started taking swimming lessons. Dad was holding Charlie and I was paddling around not paying any attention to anyone. I remember the phone ringing and Dad and Charlie got out to answer it and the blood drained from Dad's face.
"My father died," he told Mom. Mom picked up Molly and Sam and climbed out. She place them on the ground and hugged him. I got out and looked at him and hugged him as well. Charlie and Molly looked at each other and grabbed onto a leg. He leaned over and picked Sam up. So there we were. Mom had one arm around him and the other around me, and Charlie and Molly each had a leg, and Sam had his head on Daddy's shoulder. Mom picked Molly up and took my hand and led me into the house. I had only seen my grandfather, or grandmother, I don't really know what he liked to be called, once or twice a year, but I knew that my Dad was really sad. Even though he didn't get along with his father all that much. I remember Mom smoothing out the wrinkles in my dark dress. I didn't have many black clothes, so she picked out dark blue. Charlie and Sam were in little suits. Molly held my hand and I held Dad's. Mom carried Sam and held Charlie's hand. My grandmother was there and she hugged us. We called her Nana, and Mom's mom Grandma. Nana was our favorite because we were young and you could buy our love. Nana was always coming from some exotic location bearing gifts. We would smile and kiss her and grab the package with our name on it and open it as quickly as our little hands could. Nana would laugh and hug us tightly. Grandma Geller and Mom didn't really get along that well. I heard her say that she was too critical of Mom's life.
"Can't you leave me to live my own life?" Mom had yelled into the phone. I was seven and I turned my head to hear the rest of the conversation. Aunt Phoebe had taken Sam and Chris out shopping with her, and Molly was playing with Jessica and Jon at Aunt Rachel's. Charlie and Dad had gone out with Uncle Ross and Henry to buy a baseball glove for the two of them. So I was the only kid home. Mom had planned a special day since it would be the two of us. We were going to make cookies and then watch a movie and play. Just the two of us. I sat on the stool in the kitchen, flour was on my cheek and my messy ponytail falling out of the hair thing. Mom turned around and saw me and her face changed and she smiled.
"Listen, I can't argue with you right now, my daughter is waiting for me, we're making cookies," she said into the phone and hung up and came up behind me and helped me stir the batter. I giggled and she put me in the bathtub to clean off. After she had showered also, she sat in my room and braided my black hair. She put flowers at the end of each braid and we went into the living room where we danced. Well, it was more like twirling then dancing. She twirled me around and around and we collapsed onto the couch laughing hysterically.
"Oh Gracie," she told me. " I love you so much. Don't ever doubt that, not for one second." And I never did. I knew that my mother loved us. That night I snuck downstairs. I was hungry and I wanted one of the cookies Mom and I had made that day. I was heading for the kitchen when I saw Mom and Dad on the couch together. Her head was laying on his chest and he was playing with her hair. She was laughing at a joke that he had just told. I walked in and smiled at them. They didn't notice me right away. They only noticed each other. Finally Dad looked up and saw me standing there and motioned for me to come over. I did and Mom sat up and I climbed onto his lap. Mom kissed my cheek and I rested my head against his shoulder. I fell asleep forgetting that I was hungry and that was the whole point of going down in the first place. It didn't matter. As my Uncle Joey says, it was a moo point. The opinion of a cow. When I was eight, my parents had a huge fight. Molly and I were sitting on the stairs listening. Charlie and Sam were in their rooms sleeping, but Molly and I snuck down.
"What do you want?" Dad had yelled.
"I don't know," Mom answered. "And keep your voice down, you'll wake up the kids." Dad did lower his voice. I sat there with my fingers crossed hoping that neither one would say the word that I was terrified of them saying.
"Do you want a divorce?" Dad asked. He had said it.
"I don't know," Mom said truthfully. He sighed.
"That's fine, how about I leave for a little while until you figure out what you want?" He said and didn't even take time to grab anything, he just grabbed his coat and ran out the door. Molly looked at me.
"What does this mean Gracie?" She asked. I looked at my four-year-old sister and didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Mom began to cry and sunk down to the couch. Molly got up and went down to her, ignoring my hisses to stay put. Mom looked up and hugged her.
"Oh, Molly," she said crying and hugging her at the same time. I didn't want to see my mother, I just wanted to go to bed. I ran up and threw myself on the bed and cried. Two weeks later, I didn't feel so well. I went into my mom's room and found her sleeping on the bed.
"Mommy?" I said quietly.
"Gracie? Honey? What's the matter? Its two in the morning," she said sitting up.
"Mommy, I don't feel good," I told her. She looked at me and patted the bed beside her. I climbed up and she felt my forehead.
"You feel warm," she said and got up and walked into her bathroom to get the thermometer. We sat waiting until it beeped. It was 103.6. Mom quickly called the doctor. He told her to bring me to the hospital if it got any higher then 104. I was laying with her and she was taking my temperature. We both fell asleep and when we woke up she took it. It was about four in the morning now. My temperature was 104.6. She picked me up and got me dressed. She threw on a pair of pants and a sweater as she called Aunt Rachel to come over and watch the rest of my siblings. Aunt Rachel arrived five minutes later and Mom carried me out to the car. She laid me in the back seat and told me that everything was okay. She drove faster then I have ever seen her drive before. We got there and she rushed me in. Sitting in the emergency room she dialed Dad's number.
"Chandler?"
"Monica? Its four in the morning."
"I know, I'm in the emergency room," she said.
"Are you okay? Are the kids okay?"
"I'm fine, but Gracie's sick. The doctor told me to bring her in if her temperature reached 104, and now its 104.6. Chandler, I'm so scared."
"I'll be right there," he told her and hung up. He told me that he rushed in and saw Mom sitting there a wreck. He pulled her into a hug and told her that it would be okay. She was crying. The doctor came out and told them that I was fine, they had gotten my temperature down, but I had pneumonia and an ear infection, and I would have to stay there for a day or two. Mom and Dad nodded and followed him down the hall to my room. Mom took my hand and Dad took the other.
"Gracie?" Mom asked.
"Mommy? Daddy?" I said. Mom hugged me and Dad smiled. Later when they thought I was asleep I heard them talking.
"Monica?"
"Yeah?"
"I want to move back in."
"I want you to too," she told him. He kissed her.
"I've missed you so much," he said and hugged her close.
"Oh, me too," she kissed him again and they rocked each other back and forth. He moved back in two days later, and never moved out again.
I told you that we had a dog. When I was ten, Dad finally caved and bought us the dog. We had been begging for one for as long as I can remember. It was my birthday and Mom brought the final present over to me. I took the lid off and to my surprise a Golden retriever puppy jumped out with a red ribbon around its neck.
"Thank you!" I jumped out of my seat and whole-heartedly hugged both my parents.
"What should we name him?" Mom asked.
"Rocky," Dad suggested.
"I like that," I told him. "Hi Rocky, hi!" We all ran and played with him and Dad slipped his arm around Mom and smiled.
"I thought you didn't like dogs," she said.
"I don't," he admitted. "But I like seeing my children happy. And look at them over there." He pointed to us. Mom smiled and kissed him and hugged him back.
"Oh no," she said. He looked at her. "He's going to leave messes!" Dad just kissed her like he always did when she had one of her obsessions come to life. I remember them always kissing and hugging. My first day of high school, my mom picked me up and my friend Paul commented that she was really hot.
"That's my mom!" I said. I never had noticed how pretty she was. Everyone had said that I looked just like her. I was more conscious of how I looked from that point on. I was dumped the night before the dance by Tom McMurphy. I ran to my room and threw myself on my bed and cried. Dad came up and hugged me.
"You're so beautiful," he told me. "Don't let what one boy thinks cloud what you see. You look just like your mother. I'm even more in love with her now then I was back then when I married her." I never once thought I was ugly from that point on. I always wanted love like my parents. My mother says that I am too picky with who I choose to date. But I blame her for that. She showed me that true love truly exists and that you can live completely for one person and wake up next to him for twenty years and never be bored. She told me that she was bored sometimes. That she would wish sometimes that she was still carefree and wild. That she had always wanted to see the world.
"But," she'd tell me. "I did see the world. Your father gave me the world." I giggled and told her that was lame. She just smiled. I would see her in her room fingering her wedding picture and her engagement ring and think that I wanted to be just like her. So the question that you asked us to write about was whether our parents taught us something. My answer is yes. My parents taught me almost everything I know. I can spout off jokes better then anyone you will ever meet. I get that from my dad. And I'm a really good cook, and really clean. And I get that from my mother. But their most important lesson is that no matter what you have to go through to get where you are, its all worth it if you have someone to love beside you.