You Are Not Alone – Chapter Two
xx
"Ross, dear," Nora cooed down the phone line, "sorry to bother you at work, but I have to cancel dinner tonight. A book signing has come up, dear, and I won't be able to make it, unfortunately," She listened for a moment as Ross expressed his regret that she wouldn't be able to make it. "Yes, so regrettably, we've lost our reservations my publisher set up at The Rainbow Room for tonight," she lied. The reservations were perfectly in tact; only now for two instead of seven.
"Oh, maybe some other night, then, Nora. You're in the city all weekend, aren't you? Chandler will be so disappointed," Ross lied, "He was looking forward to spending some time with you."
"I'm sure he'll live, dear," Nora said, her tone sugary. Her son would be in a very good mood tonight, if she had any claim over the matter.
"Would you like me to call the others, Nora?" Ross asked, courteously, not wanting her to spend the next half hour tracking down each of his friends to cancel.
Nora sat up slightly in alarm, immediately rejecting the offer, accompanied by a vehement nod, even though Ross couldn't see her. It would mess everything up! "Oh no, you're the last on my list, dear," she claimed, "I've already informed the others. Thank you for offering." They exchanged further pleasantries before hanging up.
Nora glanced at the sheet laid in front of her, with her son's friends' phone numbers on it. One down, three to go, she sighed. The things she did to ensure her son was happy, honestly!
Though she supposed she owed it to him, for his awkward childhood. For all her eccentricity, she wasn't naïve enough to believe that Chandler had grown up in the most balanced and nurturing home.
She scanned the list on the counter in front of her for the next number and immediately set about punching in Rachel's work number. She answered after a few rings. "Hello? Rachel, dear? It's Nora. Listen, I've got some bad news…"
xx
Chandler glanced down at his work suit and straightened his tie, as his cab neared the restaurant he had promised to meet his mother and friends at, appraising it's condition, and whether it would be suitable for whatever his mother had planned for the evening. Catching a glimpse of his watch, he decided it would have to do, he had no time to even think about heading home to change.
As if on cue, the cab immediately pulled up in front of The Rainbow Room. Chandler subtly rolled his eyes at the cabbie's slightly impressed expression. Leave it to his mother's over-stated taste in over-priced, over-hyped restaurants to impress even a New York cabbie. A chain of memories of similar situations occurring as he grew up floated through his mind, only to be quickly pushed aside. He thanked the driver tersely and handed over his fare, quickly stepping out onto the pavement of 49th street.
He had just exited the cab, when he heard someone call his name. Recognizing the voice, he turned to face Monica with a smile, hugging her, and offering in greeting, "Hey. Wow, you look great! Don't tell me you just came from work, too?"
Monica smiled and shook her head. "Nah, evening wear isn't exactly functional in the kitchen. I popped home after work to change. I was expecting to run into Rachel, but she must be running late," she muttered, "Typical Rach."
Chandler creased his brow in confusion, "Rachel isn't home yet? She knows the reservations are at seven, right? It takes her, like, an hour to pick out shoes. Let alone a whole outfit and coordinating lipstick."
Monica shrugged. "Maybe she's already in there?"
Chandler shrugged back. "Only one way to find out," he explained, gesturing towards the entrance of the restaurant, pulling open the front door, ushering Monica in, in front of him. They approached the host, who smiled at them grandly, and asked for the name their reservation was filed under.
Chandler smiled back, offering his mother's name, "Nora Bing."
The host looked back at them and smiled, "Ah, yes. You must be Chandler, yes?" Chandler nodded, confused as to how he knew that. The host continued anyway, "Your mother has picked out the most exquisite dining package for you two this evening. Follow me please."
Chandler rolled his eyes, at the host's exuberance, expecting nothing less from his mother. Monica smiled at his expression and squeezed his hand in silent support as they followed the host through the restaurant, and past a red velvet curtain onto a small balcony on the upper level of the restaurant.
With a flourish, the host waved an arm towards a table for two set up elegantly, complete with flickering candles and red roses lying on one of the plates.
Chandler and Monica looked at one another, confused. Chandler protested, "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong reservations?" he half-stated, half-asked, "There's should be seating for seven of us, reservations placed by Nora Bing?"
The host looked at Chandler warily, before glancing down at his seating chart, quickly rereading the reservation information. "There is no mistake, Mr. Bing," he reassured in a slightly haughty voice, "Your mother has specifically requested a private seating area for you and Ms. Geller, with a view of the cityscape. A bottle of our best red is to be served immediately after seating. Your entire meal is already paid for in full."
Chandler and Monica looked at him, flabbergasted. "Um, okay," Chandler said eventually, stopping himself just short of demanding to see what else was written on that damn clipboard. He allowed himself and Monica to be guided towards their supposed table.
Once they were seated across from one another, and the host had disappeared back behind the curtain, Monica turned wide eyes on Chandler, "What the hell is going on? Where is your Mom? Where's everyone else? And why is there a rose on my plate? Just… what?" she questioned, rapid-fire.
Chandler shrugged, "You think I know? I'm just as confused as you are! Wait!" he exclaimed, as the realization hit. "You know how I said my Mom wasn't like other Moms?" he asked.
"Yeah…" Monica agreed, nodding along in confusion, not sure what relevance that statement had.
"And you know how some Moms like to tell their sons who to date?" Chandler asked, looking at Monica expectantly, waiting for her to catch on.
She didn't and just stared back in confusion, obviously trying to find the connection between the two statements, "Yeah, so? What does that have to do with this?"
Chandler sighed. "My Mom isn't the kind of Mom who stops at telling me what to do," he explained, "She's the kind of Mom who likes to take a more hands on approach."
Understanding finally dawning, Monica gasped, "You mean, she did this on purpose to try and set us up, like on a date?" she wondered, "That's so sneaky and – and underhanded!"
"Welcome to my Mom," Chandler smirked.
"So what do we do?" Monica asked, "I mean, we can't just let ourselves be manipulated like this," she said indignantly, twisting her blood red napkin in her hands in frustration.
Chandler placed a hand over hers, stopping her from wrinkling the napkin, "Look, Mon, we're friends and two grown adults, right? We can handle being set up, without it affecting our friendship, right? I mean, the meal is free. So why not enjoy it? Let my Mom's little plan backfire in her face?" he suggested.
Monica smirked, "I like the way you think! Besides," she admitted, smiling at Chandler across the table, flushing slightly, "It is a kind of romantic setting, you have to admit. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."
Chandler didn't have a chance to reply before the host who had seated them earlier returned, reappearing through the curtain, smiling graciously, the promised bottle of vintage pinot noir in hand. "I hope you've had time to settle in," he said, pulling two large wine glasses off the tray he was carrying and setting them in front of Monica and Chandler, "As promised, your wine…"
xx
Two and a half glasses of wine later, Monica was feeling decidedly more upbeat about the evening. The fog of alcohol had removed the awkwardness that the thought they were essentially on a date might have brought.
Monica had to admit to herself it was the best date she'd been on in a while, even if it wasn't exactly intended as one. She felt more of a connection having dinner with her friend than she did with most guys on a first date, and the thought depressed her.
She must have looked depressed, because Chandler seemed to catch on to her mood and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. He offered her a bright smile, probably fueled in part by his consumption of wine, his blue eyes wide and innocent. "You wanna dance?" he wondered, nodding towards the curtain that separated them from the main area of the restaurant, and the music that was wafting through it courtesy of the string quartet that was playing inside, "I'm pretty sure I saw a dance floor on the way in."
Monica realized he was trying to help make her feel better (somehow she doubted he really wanted to dance) and it shot a surge of warmth through her. Making the split-second decision to take him up on the offer before he could retract it, she agreed, "Yeah, that sounds like fun."
He stood up grandly, offering her his hand with a flourish, like a character out of an old movie. "Milady?"
Monica couldn't help but giggle at his slightly drunken display of bravado, and grasped his hand, allowing him to help her up out of her seat. "I feel like I missed the part where I'm supposed to curtsey," she joked.
Chandler shrugged, and laughed, as they passed through the curtain, heading towards the dance floor, where he gathered her into his arms, holding her gently as the soft music played.
"This is nice," Monica smiled, as they swayed lightly on the spot, rocking in time to the music.
Chandler nodded in agreement, "Only because you haven't really seen me dance," he teased, "This isn't dancing. This I can handle."
Monica shrugged, discarding the comment, "Janice had no complaints," she told him.
His brow creased in confusion, as he wondered what she was implying. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Janice told us you took her out dancing to that old Jazz club on 32nd. She was absolutely giving you glowing reviews," Monica explained, adding, "And you know, if some guy did that for me, I think I would, too."
Unsure how to take the almost compliment, Chandler focused on a safer option instead, "Well, it's Janice. Do you really trust her opinion?"
Monica nodded, "About you? Yeah. She really did love you, you know. And I know you loved her, too. Your face when you saw her in the coffeehouse and how happy she was without you… well, it gave you away."
Feeling a little sting at the memory, he nodded, "Yeah. I guess I was a little hurt. But it was all my fault, for being an idiot and letting it go, in the first place," he looked into her eyes determinedly, "But I swear, if I ever find that again, I'm going to hold on for dear life."
Monica grinned, teasing, "Aww, such a romantic."
He brushed off the teasing, adding seriously, "I mean it, though. I really don't want to be alone forever."
"I know," Monica smiled, squeezing his arm, "I was just teasing."
"Usually that's my specialty," Chandler joked, "Since when have you started stealing my thunder?"
"Oh, only since forever," Monica played along, "You're just not very observant."
"Not true," he countered, "I observed that you look beautiful tonight," he claimed, "Red is definitely your colour," he nodded, approvingly.
"Offering fashion advice? Are you trying to prove you're observant, or gay," she teased.
He scoffed, blurting out before he could stop himself, "Trust me, Mon, the things I was thinking about, when I saw you walk up in that dress were the opposite of gay." He flushed when he realized what he had revealed, and she did, too.
Embarrassed, they continued dancing in silence, not wanting to open up an uncomfortable line of discussion.
One word flashed in both of their minds. Friends. We're friends, they reminded themselves. Best not to push that boundary. They couldn't let Nora and her stupid plan get to them.
xx
Monica leaned heavily against Chandler, as they stumbled out of their cab and on shaky legs, wobbling towards the entrance to their apartment.
It had all started with the one innocent bottle of wine that Nora had ordered for them. That first bottle of wine that had inspired Chandler to ask Monica to dance, and Monica to accept his offer, and both of them to dance a little more closely than necessary. When they returned to their table after the awkward moment on the dance floor, another had been ordered. And then somehow, two had turned into three… and tipsy had somehow turned into falling down drunk, their inhibitions effectively lowered even more than before.
Chandler, embarrassed for what he had said, had attempted (rather successfully) to drown the memory. Monica followed his lead, but managed to retain a little more of her lucidity. She was wearing heels, and either she was walking or Chandler was going to carry her home, and the latter was seeming pretty unlikely given how drunk he was.
The fuzzy glow provided by the alcohol had removed most traces of awkwardness from what could have potentially been a very uncomfortable evening. Except, that wasn't all it had done. It had made them a little more brave than they would usually have been; made them say and do things they wouldn't have dared do in normal circumstances.
After Chandler's revelation on the dance floor, what would have been a simple touch of their knees or a friendly smile, suddenly was laced with a potential double meaning. Perhaps it was the romantic setting, perhaps it was purely alcohol induced. Whatever the cause, it wasn't questioned.
They both knew, if one of them were to question it, that the strange atmosphere that had somehow been allowed to develop between them would disappear… and neither of them was ready to let go of it just yet.
Miraculously, they managed to get up the four flights of stairs to their apartments without injuring themselves. Thankfully, the carbide and the several flights of stairs up to their apartments helped to even out the alcohol in their systems a little.
Now they stood in the hallway between their apartment doors facing one another, trying to come up with something to say to end the night without additional awkwardness. The remaining alcohol in their systems did not erase from their minds the gravity of the situation.
They smiled at one another shyly as they stared at one another's feet, not daring to glance up into the other's face. Chandler even scuffed a shoe on the floor in front of him.
"Goodnight Chandler," Monica eventually said, her voice soft.
Pleased the ice had been broken Chandler grinned, responding in kind, "'Night Monica."
"Uh, this is going to stay between us, isn't it?" Monica asked quietly after a moment of silence, "I mean, the others would tease us, and you know how they can be… and with Nora…"
Chandler nodded slightly, "Um, yeah. I think that, um, yeah, that would be for the best," he agreed awkwardly, his cheeks flushing even more than they already were due to the wine he'd consumed. "Want to hug it out?" he asked.
Monica nodded, "I'd like that," she said, moving to step into his arms, allowing him to engulf her in a tight hug. She reveled in the comforting feeling, tilting her head up to his face to ask him what he was going to say to his mother. When his eyes caught hers, however, the question flew out of mind, and all she could think about was him, and how it felt to be standing there, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes.
There was something about the way he was looking back at her, his eyes seeming to soften a little, that convinced her he was thinking about kissing her. She could have even sworn that she felt him start to lean in. Unconsciously, she felt herself doing the same, her eyes slipping closed, her heart beating wildly in anticipation of the moment their lips would meet.
Then, in a flash, the moment was over, she felt him push her gently away from himself. By the time she opened her eyes he was several steps away. Wondering if she had imagined the entire incident out of pure drunkenness, she blinked, but the sight that met her eyes convinced her that she hadn't. A guilty look was written all over his face. He glanced at her, his eyes oozing remorse, even as they refused to meet hers. What was he regretting so much, she wondered? That he almost kissed her?
Because she didn't. Her quickened heartbeat reminded her of that. In the heat of the moment, she hadn't even considered what was about to happen, with Chandler of all people... but now that the possibility of that kiss was gone, she was hit with the realization that she had wanted to find out what it would have been like.
She didn't have long to think on what had happened, or what to say to him to make things right again. He mumbled a quiet goodnight refusing to look a her, and didn't even wait for a reply before slipping into his apartment, placing a door securely between himself and Monica.
Monica stared at the closed door, feeling a wash of sadness surge through her. His eagerness to get away from her was obvious. Was she really that repulsive? He'd kissed Janice and liked it! Janice! Was she really that much worse than Janice?
She leaned back against her apartment door, sliding to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling sorry for herself. Chandler was her friend and nothing more. Other than a brief attraction in highschool she'd never felt anything for him. That had been years ago. So why did she care if he wanted to kiss her or not? She shouldn't want to kiss him, so it shouldn't matter if he wanted to kiss her.
Too bad shouldn't and didn't were different things.
xx
Chandler sighed as he closed the door to his apartment, leaving Monica in the hallway outside, probably wondering what the hell his problem was. He didn't blame her. Okay, he was a little tipsy, but that was no excuse for almost kissing her! She was drunk, too, and he would not be the horrible, terrible, downright opportunistic friend that took advantage of her when she was drunk. He had more respect for her than that.
Sure, the thought of kissing her had sent his heart racing… but no. It was wrong to do that to her when she was drunk, no matter how drawn to her he was. She wasn't feeling the same way about him, he was certain, and if anything happened, she would regret it in the morning when she came to her senses.
No, it wasn't worth the aggravation of being rejected by yet another woman. One whose opinion he actually cared about.
His heart still pounding in his chest, he greeted the people gathered in the apartment. He smiled half-heartedly at Rachel and Ross, but reserved a steely glare for his mother.
She smiled back innocently. "Hello, darling. You're home late. Did you get my message.. about being unable to make dinner?" she asked, her eyes daring him to oust her scheming in front of the others.
Chandler's glare hardened. "No, mother. My secretary must have lost the message?" he drawled, sarcastically, knowing that no message had been left. "Hey, I've got a funny story for you. Same thing happened to Monica. Quite a coincidence, right Mom? We ended up having dinner, anyway, since they held your reservations."
Nora feigned ignorance, an innocent lilt to her tone, "Oh, well, that's nice, you weren't alone, then. Did you two have a nice time?" Chandler rolled his eyes, fighting down his frustration at her attitude.
"You had dinner with my sister at The Rainbow Room, dude?" Ross cut in, surprised, "Alone? Like a date? Wasn't that expensive, anyway?"
"No," Chandler said shortly, "We did not go on a 'date,' we just had dinner together, and no, it wasn't expensive. Apparently my Mom left her credit card number, so it was paid for. So, thanks for dinner, Mom," he drawled, knowing she had planned it that way all along.
Nora smiled indulgently, explaining, "Some of the more upscale restaurants ask for a credit card number as collateral on reservations, darling. It's atrocious trying to get a booking, sometimes, you know, they want to make sure their patrons will show for their reservations." She waved a hand dismissively, "No matter, I'm happy to foot the bill, as long as you and that lovely little friend of yours had a nice dinner?" she half-stated, half questioned, clearly searching for a clue as to how the night had went.
Chandler wasn't prepared to give her that satisfaction. He shrugged. "Oh, it went okay." He faked a yawn, finding he didn't have to try all that hard, the night's activities catching up with him, "I'm kind of tired... If you don't mind, I'll be heading to bed," he said, walking towards his room, "You don't mind taking the couch, do you Mom?" he snipped; with all her scheming he wasn't feeling so eager to give up his bed for her comfort, anymore.
Nora grinned at him, "Of course I wouldn't mind dear. I told you about how your father and I-"
"Yes," Chandler interrupted the story, rolling his eyes, "You've told us how Dad was a good-for-nothing husband and you had to live in his mother's basement on a pull out couch. We heard it all. We get it, you hate Dad. Goodnight," he growled, angrily, slamming the door to his bedroom.
Nora looked at the closed door with a raised eyebrow, before turning to Ross and Rachel, who looked a little shell-shocked by the outburst. "He's always been a little overly sensitive about his father," Nora explained smoothly, knowing that had nothing to do with his anger, "He never liked it when Charles and I had our lovers' spats. He was always such a sensitive boy." Ross and Rachel bobbed their heads in understanding. "I think I'll go talk to him," Nora suggested, standing and opening the door to her son's bedroom, without even bothering to knock.
"Mom! I'm getting dressed!" Chandler exclaimed, closing the door, before it was fully open, causing Ross and Rachel to crane their necks to see what was going on. "Jesus! Don't you know how to knock! I'm practically naked in here!" He called through the door.
"Honestly, Chandler!" Nora rolled her eyes, speaking to him through the door, "I'm your mother! It's nothing I haven't seen before!"
Chandler poked his head out of his bedroom, now wearing his pajamas, "Still, haven't you heard of knocking?" he grumbled, "I hear it's the polite thing to do nowadays," he muttered sarcastically.
Nora rolled her eyes again, pushing past him, into his bedroom, and closing the door behind them. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, bluntly, "You seem awfully touchy, tonight, darling. I don't know what I could have possibly done–"
"Don't know what you could have done?" Chandler sneered, "Hmm, let's see… where to start... how about trying to set me up on a date with one of my best friends? Or pretending not to know anything about it?" he grumbled.
"Oh, that," Nora said breezily, "I was just trying to give the two of you a little helping hand, dear. The chemistry is there."
"Well, thanks for your 'help'" Chandler air-quoted, angrily, "but I am perfectly capable of running my own love life, thanks very much. Please get it into your head that Monica and I are friends. We have a great friendship, but that's it."
"Are you telling me that nothing happened tonight at dinner?" Nora hinted, folding her hands and eyeing his dresser, pretending to be disinterested, "Not even after the… wine?" she asked, pointedly, unable to keep a curious note from sneaking into her voice.
Chandler turned pink, and she had all the answer she needed. "No, mother," he denied, his voice somehow sounding less forceful than before, "We ate, we drank, we danced and we came home. End of story."
"You danced with her?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chandler groaned audibly, wishing for probably the millionth time that he had a better brain-to-mouth filter. Of course his mother would pick up on that tidbit of information and use it for evil. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained, "but only because we were drunk," he argued, adding accusingly, "Thanks to you!"
Nora smiled and shook her head in disagreement. "Okay, so perhaps I had some bearing in the two of you ending up at that restaurant together, in the setting you did," she grudgingly admitted, "But the two of you were the ones who took advantage of it," she claimed, with a sly smile, knowing she had him caught, "You decided to stay for dinner. You drank the wine. You chose to dance. That had nothing to do with me. Don't try to pin those decisions on me, darling. You weren't anywhere, or doing anything you didn't want to be. In fact… I think you very much wanted to be doing exactly what you did."
Chandler flushed deeper, knowing his mother was right. "I – I –" he stuttered, unable to come up with an argument, eventually changing the subject, "Still, you had no right to decide who I should be dating! I'm not just a character in one of your books that you can mess around with at leisure! I'm a person, I have feelings and a mind of my own!"
Nora crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly, stating, "You're acting like I didn't help you with something you've been dreaming about since you've known Monica."
Chandler ran a hand down his face in frustration, "Even if that were true, which it isn't," he insisted at little too loudly, "It's irrelevant. You had no right to intervene in my love life! I'm not a little kid who you can tell what to do and not do. Or date."
"You're still my son," Nora explained, reaching out to tilt his face so he was looking at her, "I want you to be happy. I'm sorry if I upset you, but I'm not sorry about what I did. I thought it was what you wanted. Any mother wants what's best for her children, and you're still my baby, no matter how old you get."
Chandler sighed heavily. He didn't agree with his mother's methods, but at least she thought she was doing what was best for him. "Look," he claimed, wanting to avoid further arguing, "I really am tired. Can we just put this behind us for now and worry about it tomorrow?" he suggested.
Nora grinned genuinely, and winked, "You got it," she agreed, though she had no intention of leaving things there. She was certain about one thing; her son wasn't as against the idea of Monica being his girlfriend as he was pretending to be. That meant one thing: she'd have to talk to Monica. "We're going to be spending the weekend together, I think we can work something out."
Chandler groaned inwardly at the reminder that she would be around for the better part of the next two days. "Goodnight Mom," he said, monotone, as she reached to kiss him on the cheek, returning the sentiment, before exiting his bedroom.
Nora smiled at Ross and Rachel, who were still out in the living room, watching a Discovery Channel special on penguins, Rachel looking half asleep with boredom, her head leaning against Ross' shoulder. She jolted to attention when Nora exited Chandler's room.
"He's sleeping, now," Nora whispered conspiratorially, "Worn out from a hard day at work, the poor thing," she lied, already moving towards the door.
Rachel looked at her questioningly, "Where are you going, Nora?"
"Oh, nowhere, dear, just across the hall. Chandler said that there's no extra blankets over here. I'm going across the hall to borrow some from Monica, to make up the couch."
Rachel snorted, "Sounds like these boys," she laughed, "Never prepared for anything."
Ross laughed, and nudged his girlfriend, "Like you should talk! If it weren't for Monica you'd be worse off than them… unless having 200 pairs of shoes is considered being 'prepared for anything.'"
Rachel elbowed Ross in the stomach, causing him to groan in pain, "Oww! Geez, your elbow is sharp!"
"There's more where that came from," Rachel threatened, "If you don't learn when to shut up!" Ross pretended to zip his mouth shut.
Nora smiled as she watched the two interact, thinking about how that could be Chandler and Monica, if she played her cards right. Ross and Rachel were so involved in their playful bantering they didn't notice her exit the apartment, heading for Monica's.
Since her son was being so stubborn, Monica was her best hope, now. Perhaps she'd be a little more receptive to some coaxing.
Nora didn't bother knock on Monica's apartment door, figuring the brunette wouldn't mind, and slipped into the apartment, shocked to find Monica sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow, tear tracks lining her face, a tub of ice cream perched on the coffee table in front of her, a spoon sticking out of it.
Nora raised an eyebrow at the sight.
xx
Thanks all for reading, and leaving your fabulous comments. They do inspire me :) I'm glad you all like Nora, too, because she's my absolute favourite secondary friends character :) She's just so outrageous and fun.
It's been a while, I know (life gets in the way)… but hey, it's done now :P I know this chapter is a little on the transition (aka boring) side, but bear with me, the next chapter is that last one, so it'll pick up a bit, I hope :P After that service shall resume with Everything You Want :)
As always, let me know what you think in a review :) I love hearing what people have to say :)