Wishes
one
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"James!"
At the sound of his mother's voice, James jumped from the stool, pushed the stool back into the big walk-in pantry, shut the door closed, and ran back to the table where his mother had left him and his sister ten minutes ago. He hurried to sit back on his chair, but it was a struggle for his fist was chock-full of the gummy candy bears that he had been 'smuggling' from the pantry without either of his parents' knowledge. If his Mommy and Daddy found out about the sneaky little ways that he has been engaging in before dinner, he was sure he would get an earful. Thankfully, Emma was only one-year old, so she couldn't tell on him. Not just yet…although he could see in her face that she wanted to.
"Ssshhh!" James whispered to his baby sister when she muttered something to him in her own gibberish baby language. Sometimes he was afraid that Emma would just find her words and get him busted. If that happened, then he'd sure be in a lot of trouble.
"Ma!" Emma called loudly upon hearing her mother's footsteps bounding up the stairs from the basement.
"Emma, shush!" James snapped at the toddler. He sat up straight when he heard the footsteps becoming louder and louder. "Jingle bells. Jingle bells. Jingle all the way…" He started singing so it wouldn't be too obvious that he was hiding something.
"James, you said you want to choose the decorations for our Christmas tree…" Rachel trailed, both in words and in path when she noticed that mischievous grin on her four-year old son's face. Gently, she lowered the box of Christmas decorations that she had brought from the basement, to the floor. "Okay, what is going on?" She eyed her children suspiciously, especially James. He was usually the one who always has something up his sleeve.
"Ma-ma, Jem-Jem…" Emma began, pointing at her older brother as she relayed her account of the 'story' in her own gibberish language.
Rachel arched a brow and trudged closer to her son. "James? What did you do?"
James shook his head. "Nothing…" he replied 'innocently' as he hid his fist behind his back, all the while pulling that cute face at his mother.
"James? What are you hiding in your hands?"
"Nothing…"
"Can you show Mommy your hands?"
James shook his head. His smile was slowly fading with each step that his mother took. He knew he was in trouble; and when his Mommy said his full name, he knew he was in serious, serious, big time trouble.
"James Russell Geller," Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and impatiently tapped her foot. "I'm waiting…"
James closed his eyes tightly, and ever so slowly, he brought his hand out and opened his fingers one by one. He was already in trouble, and he knew that if he kept on insisting that he wasn't guilty, he'd only get into bigger trouble. His Daddy told him to never ever lie.
Rachel brought a hand to her mouth, fighting so hard the urge to laugh. She couldn't do it. She simply couldn't make herself scold her children when they were all looking so cute, so adorable, and so guilty. Even Emma could already pull that same guilty face James had on.
"I didn't eat it!" James defended, hoping that that would pull him out of trouble. "I was gonna, but…but…you come-d."
"Came," Rachel corrected, pulling a mock-stern face at the boy.
"Mommy, you're not gonna tell Daddy, please?" James begged.
Rachel smiled inwardly and shrugged her shoulders, pretending to think deeply about the boy's request. "If you promise not to do it again, then maybe I won't…"
"Okay…" James took his mother by her word and sighed, feeling much, much more relieved that his Mommy was letting him off easy. As long as his Daddy doesn't find out, he should be fine. He always thought his Daddy was a little harder to 'negotiate' with than his Mommy.
"All right, then give me the gummy candies," Rachel instructed firmly, holding out her palm before her son.
James sighed, a little bummed. "Okay, but Mommy can I have one? Just one? Pleasy-please?"
Rachel smiled and shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "Not before dinner…"
"Oh, man!" James grumbled as he poured out the contents of his hand into his mother's open palm.
Rachel giggled and tousled her son's hair. "Be a good boy now James…You have to be a good example to Emma."
"I am a good sample!" James whined.
"Sure you are." Rachel laughed. There was simply nothing more rewarding than to have these little 'conversations' with her children. James and Emma were so worth every moment she had to spend away from work. In the beginning, the idea of becoming a stay-at-home-mom was unthinkable, but now that she was one, she couldn't ask for a better and more rewarding 'profession.' She didn't think she'd even want to go back to work.
"Hey, why don't you look in the box to see what decorations you want for our Christmas tree while I go make the salad for dinner, huh? What do you say, Jamesy-cuckoo?" Rachel asked the boy.
James loved it whenever his Mommy would call him Jamesy-cuckoo. It made him feel so loved and important to her, and he was. "Okay…" James replied cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear.
"Ma!" Emma called out, not wanting to be left out of any activity her brother would do.
"You want to help too, Ems?" Rachel cooed as she lifted the toddler from her highchair.
Emma giggled when her mother placed her on the floor. Happily, she crawled after her big brother.
Rachel grinned affectionately as she watched her youngest crawl away. "Sweetie, you have to try walking again," she told the toddler who didn't seem to care one bit that she was still crawling. Emma had tried walking several times before, but after falling flat on her butt nearly every time she did so, she just stopped trying again. "In due time," Ross assured her when Rachel expressed her concern that Emma should now be walking at her 15th month since James took his first steps even before he turned one-year old.
Rachel sighed and then proceeded to make the salad, which was probably the only thing she could whip up in her kitchen in addition to the TV dinners she would often toss in the microwave and Emma's ready-to-eat instant cereal that just needed hot water to begin with. She might have a big kitchen, equipped with the best appliances and gadgets there were, but she simply didn't know how to use them well. It wasn't like she never tried; she did—several times, in fact. But after serving Ross and their children countless burnt meals, she stopped trying altogether. That's what take-out foods are for.
"Mommy, I want this star!" James called out from the nook area.
Rachel stepped back and took a peek at James' decoration of choice. "What star?" she asked.
"This," James stood up and held up a plain gold-plaited star.
It wasn't that she didn't respect her child's choice, but the décor James chose was hideously unattractive. It was plain, it was gold-plaited, and most of all, it looked cheap. Rachel didn't even realize that she had kept that treetop decoration along with the other Christmas ornaments. She and Ross swore that they would hide that gift, which one of Ross's 'unique' aunt gave to them on their first Christmas as a married couple, to a place where no one would ever see it…forever. It was that ugly.
Rachel cleared her throat and smiled weakly. "Are you sure, honey? I mean, we have other decorations that would look…a little nicer on top of the tree…"
"I want this one!" James determinedly announced.
"Really?" Rachel grimaced.
The sound of the front door opening interrupted their conversation, and soon, Ross's "I'm home!" holler was heard along with his approaching footsteps.
At the sound of her father's voice, Emma gave a squeal and clapped her hands excitedly. The girl absolutely adored her father. "Dadddsss!" Slurring and spitting finished off what Rachel could only assume as Emma's own way of saying the word 'Daddy.'
James was equally excited about his father's arrival, and before long, he was running out in the hallway to meet him with Emma crawling close behind.
Ross appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later with Emma in his arms and James clinging tightly around his leg. "Ahh…It's always so nice to come home after a long hard day's labor with this kind of warm welcome," he commented cheerfully. He was tired from work, but not too tired to spend some quality time with his family. He always had.
"Hey you…" Rachel greeted her husband of five years with a firm kiss on the lips. "How was your day?" she asked, taking the white bag of takeout dinner from Ross's hand. Ross had always brought home their dinner. He didn't seem to mind that at all, and Rachel was certainly glad that he didn't care. She has heard a dozen of stories of men complaining about how their wives couldn't feed them properly, but fortunately, her husband was not one of them. She would have been so damned if he were.
"Oh, the same…busy all day, grading papers, faculty meetings, court hearings, briefings…" Ross shrugged his shoulders, summarizing his activities as a lawyer and a part-time professor at NYU. "How was yours?"
Rachel shrugged. "Just the same…although I did try to bake some chocolate-chip cookies earlier…"
"And?" Ross seemed amused, and his smile showed it all.
"What do you mean 'and'?" Rachel rebutted laughingly. "Of course, it turned out…not too well…" Her last words were barely audible that Ross just lost it and laughed at her face.
"And that's why Pepperidge Farm makes them," Ross joked.
"I'm a terrible cook!" Rachel whined. "I can't even cook for my own family!"
Ross laughed. "Actually, cooking is different from baking…"
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Ahhh! What's the difference? I can't do either!"
James tugged at his Mommy's leg and joined in the conversation. "It's okay mommy. We still love you…"
Ross tilted Rachel's chin and affectionately smiled at her. "It's okay sweetie…I didn't marry you for your culinary skills. In fact, I wouldn't have married you at all if it were for that," he teased.
Rachel rolled her eyes and playfully slapped Ross in the arm. "Thanks!" she said sarcastically. "I'm glad my husband thinks so! But you know, if only I had known that you'd make me watch the Discovery Channel with you every night, I wouldn't have married you either…"
Ross chuckled as he carried his children over to the breakfast nook where they usually ate their meals. He loved to tease Rachel. He loved to watch every single one of her reaction to every joke and teasing he would throw at her. "I love you, sweetie…" he called over his shoulder.
Rachel smiled and shook her head as she proceeded to empty the takeout boxes into dinner plates. Their family was not exactly perfect, but they could live with each other's flaws. In a way, that made their life seemingly 'perfect.' How else could one explain that she didn't have anything more to wish for?
=====
Holding a mug of warm tea in her hands, Rachel curled up on the overstuffed chair by the large floor-to-ceiling window and quietly revered the warm, exhilarating dance of the Christmas lights against the snow-blanketed front lawn outside. Hundreds of tiny bright lights blinked, flickered, changed color, and chased one another, creating a nice festive glow against the dark night as they adorned the holiday lawn decors. Rachel sighed, letting herself sink in the warm, fuzzy feelings that the holidays had always stirred in her.
Nighttimes were her quiet moments, and she loved the times that she could just sit back with nice cup of warm tea, relax, and reflect on how blessed her day had been.
She was blessed…in so many ways. She was blessed with two beautiful children, and she was even more fortunate that she was raising them with the world's best husband and father. Ross was way beyond her expectations for a husband, a friend, and father to their children. He was, to say the least, amazing.
Every morning, before he would go to work, Ross would fulfill his fatherly duties to James by taking the boy out for a bikeride, and lately, since the snow had already fallen, for a quick walk around their neighborhood. No matter how busy he was, he would make it a priority to spend time with his son.
For the rest of the day, he would step in his role as the responsible breadwinner of the family, working ever so diligently in his offices, one with a law firm and the other at NYU where he taught what he was really interested in: paleontology. Being the sole provider, he worked really hard to provide his family a more than comfortable lifestyle. Rachel felt really bad that Ross was the only one working, but every time she would suggest that she start working again, Ross would just smile and tell her that he could still handle everything, that James and Emma were at the age where it would be beneficial for them to always have her around. Still, she wanted to help him. Ross had always liked teaching, but somehow he just got stuck with practicing law because that brought in more income than teaching alone. Ross had the background education for both professions; he just liked teaching better than law, which was why he just couldn't drop the class he was teaching at NYU.
During the evenings, responsible Ross would resume his role as the considerate husband to Rachel, letting her have her 'breaks' from being a full-time mommy while he put James and, of course, little Emma to sleep. Emma loved her evenings with her Daddy. Ross pampered her so much that the girl usually wouldn't sleep unless she was in her Daddy's arms. Rachel always had to remind Ross not to make their daughter get used to such pampering because she would be the one to suffer if Emma cried all night looking for her 'Dadddsss' if Ross had to work late nights at the firm. Nevertheless, Ross didn't seem to be bothered, promising Rachel that she wouldn't have to worry about Emma crying all night because he would always be home before her bedtime. So far, he has been faithfully coming home on time though his commute was a lot longer than when they used to live in the city. This didn't really surprise Rachel anymore. Ross had always kept his promise.
Rachel sighed and glanced around the living room of the home Ross had 'promised' he'd be able to able to afford 'one of these days' from day 30 of their marriage. Though the 'one of these days' didn't come until five years later, Ross did fulfill his promise. They moved in to their fairly large and very beautiful home outside the city just this past fall, and after only 45 more payments, the bank could never make them move out of it again.
Rachel loved their new home. She loved everything about it: the airy rooms, the tall windows, the spacious backyard, the roomy basement, fantastic view of the night sky that the balcony afforded them outside her and Ross's bedroom…everything. Most importantly, she loved what the new house represented: new hope, new memories.
She and Ross were really excited about their first year in their new home. Both of them wanted to make this first Christmas there a very memorable one. Ross suggested that now that they're settled, it's time to establish their very own family traditions. Rachel had a big laugh about it. "We're slowly becoming like one of those old, mushy, sentimental couples, aren't we?" she joked just last week as they were setting up the lights she was now watching outside the window. Nonetheless, as much as she laughed at the thought, Rachel was really more than thrilled to start new 'family traditions' with Ross. She was already looking forward to the many wonderful memories they would build in that house.
With her mug now finally empty, Rachel picked herself up and pushed the overstuffed chair to the wall. She wanted to set up the Christmas tree by the window. With a small smile of satisfaction, she switched off the lamp and headed to the kitchen. Out of a habit she had developed recently, she glanced out the kitchen window to catch a glimpse of the stars outside while washing her mug. Living in the suburbs had since made her realize that stars do exist after all. Well, she knew that stars exist, but she didn't really get to see them a lot when she was living in the city.
After depositing her mug to dry on the dish rack, Rachel tiptoed upstairs. Quietly, she went in to James's bedroom and found him still wide-awake, sitting by the foot of his bed, glancing wistfully out the window.
"Jamesy-cuckoo, why are you still up?" she asked the boy as she sat next to him.
"I'm looking for a big, bright star." James yawned, forcing his eyes open as he searched the night sky for the biggest, brightest star it has.
Rachel arched an eyebrow and smiled. "Why?"
"Because Daddy read to me Pinocchio and Pinocchio has a wishing star and his wish came true so I want to have a wishing star like him," James explained without pausing. "You know, for my wishes…I just want to find out if wishes come true…" He glanced up at his mother. "Mommy, is it true if you make a wish on a star, it will come true?"
Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I guess if you believe really hard that it would then it just might…"
"So can I make a wish on this star?" James asked curiously, pulling out from under his bed the 'ugly' Christmas tree topper that he picked earlier.
"But that's not even a real star," Rachel pointed out, giggling.
"Oh, it has to be a real star?" James asked innocently. He looked out the dark skies through the window. "But there are no stars out!" he whined when he didn't find what he was looking for. Pinocchio did make a wish on a 'real' star, but he thought his 'star' of choice was still a star nonetheless. So, what could possibly be the difference?
"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked, tilting her head to the side to catch a better view of the night sky. She could have sworn she saw some stars when she looked out the kitchen window just a few minutes ago. "See, there are lots of stars out there…" She pointed to a few, but James still wasn't satisfied.
"They're not big and bright," James stubbornly mumbled, toying with the 'star' in his hand. "This one is..."
"Then, maybe you should wait until a real big and bright star appears," Rachel replied, smiling tenderly.
"Nah…" James shrugged his shoulders.
Rachel chuckled and shook her head. "You're really going to insist on wishing on your fake star, aren't you?"
"There are no stars out!" James stubbornly pointed out. He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.
Rachel opened her arms and pulled her son into a tight embrace. She knew there was no point in arguing with the boy. The look of determination in the boy's eyes was so fierce, and James was, after all, a stubborn Geller. "You know you are so stubborn just like your Daddy! I don't know why you want that plain star when we have three other much nicer ones to choose from…" Rachel squeezed her son, tickling his round tummy while showering kisses all over his head.
"Mommy, no tickle please!" James laughed as he wriggled free from his mother's embrace. "And my star's pretty."
After a while, Rachel stopped the tickling, and both mother and son sat in comfortable silence as they tried to catch their breaths. "Mommy, what's stubborn mean?"
"It means, no matter what other people tell you not to do, you still do it anyway because in your head," Rachel explained, touching a finger to James' forehead as the boy listened attentively. "You think you are right, so you'll keep believing anyway."
"So stubborn people's wishes on stars come true then," the child wisely observed, "because they keep believing…"
Rachel smiled at James' astute observation momentarily, silently wondering how the boy could pull this kind of thing together at such a young age. Sometimes, she could easily forget that he was only four. True, James just made an innocent observation based on what she told him; still, one way or another, he did offer Rachel some kind of insight to think about. "You're a very smart boy, do you know that?"
James grinned proudly. "I know…Daddy said I'm smart like him."
"Of course…" Rachel smiled weakly. "But, time to go to sleep…" She sighed and then picked up her son. She laid him down on the bed and tucked him in under its warm covers. "Goodnight, Jamesy-cuckoo…" She brushed the hair away from his face and kissed the top of his head.
"Night, Mommy…" James replied, smiling sweetly, hugging his 'star' close to him. "Mommy, if you have a wishing star, what will you wish for?"
"I don't know…" Rachel replied truthfully. She smiled, her deep blue eyes twinkling. "But tonight, I think I'm gonna want to wish that my Jamesy-cuckoo will finally go to sleep…because I really, really think it's way past his bedtime. And I don't want my Jamesy to feel so tired in the morning…"
James giggled. "I love you, Mommy…I hope you never leave me and Emma…"
Rachel wrinkled her brow. "Why will I do that?"
"Because some mommies do," James replied. "In school, I'm the only one that doesn't have a mommy who go to work…"
"You guys talk about that in preschool?" Rachel joked. "I thought you just sing ABC and count 123 there…"
James giggled. "Ms. Butters teach me how to write my name too…"
"Of course…" Rachel smiled and ran her hand down James' face to close his eyes. "Go to sleep…" she whispered.
Rachel smiled as she watched the movement of the boy's chest became steadier and steadier. Within minutes, James was sound asleep. Quietly, Rachel stood up and then proceeded to her baby girl's nursery.
When she stepped inside Emma's room, its yellow walls looked orange as the warm glow of the night lamp by the white bureau filled the room. Her eyes immediately went for the white iron crib, but Emma was not there. Instead, Rachel found her tiny cherub in her father's arms, both of them slumbering peacefully as they rock softly back and forth in the cushioned wicker rocker.
"Aww…how cute…" Rachel mouthed affectionately. Immediately, she walked over to the bureau and quietly pulled out a disposable camera that she had always kept in the top drawer. She knew those disposable cameras she had put in nearly every room in their house would come in handy one of these days. Ross had told her that she didn't have to do that, that she was silly for doing that, but she insisted that the most snapshot-worthy, precious moments come when you least expect it and she was right. For once, she was right over her husband, and she was proud of herself. "And you thought you're always right…" Rachel whispered, pleased with herself, before taking the picture.
Neither the bright flash nor the sound of clicking of the camera woke up the father and daughter duo, but when Rachel touched Ross's shoulder lightly, his tired lids blinked and slowly opened in a semi-startled daze. "Hey…Emma's asleep. Why don't you go to bed? I know you're very tired…I'll take it from here…" Rachel offered, her tone full of care and affection.
Ross smiled, grabbed Rachel's hand, and brought it to his lips. "Thanks, sweetie…but it's okay. You spend all day taking care of our children, so leave the nighttime to me," he replied with a wink before standing up to put Emma back to her crib, pausing before Rachel to let her kiss Emma goodnight.
Rachel smiled as she took a step back, watching Ross lovingly tuck their baby daughter in the crib. She sighed, and mindlessly stroked the wedding band on her left finger. She loved Ross so much, and there was simply no way that she'd want to imagine life without him. Marrying him was, by far, the best decision she made in her life and not once did she regret it.
"And now, it's time to tuck Mrs. Geller to bed," Ross spoke suddenly, taking Rachel completely by surprise when he took her in his arms and swept her off her feet.
"Just tuck?" Rachel joked sexily as Ross carried her through the hallway and into their bedroom.
"Of course there's going to be more to it than just tucking you in to bed…" Ross chuckled, mischievously wiggling his eyebrows. "And no, please don't remind me again that your dad would be over for dinner this weekend…coz that would just ruin the mood."
Rachel giggled. "I don't have to…you kinda did that on your own…"
"Right." Ross smiled as he laid his wife on the bed. He crawled into bed next to her, slid one of his hands under her, and with his other hand laced their fingers together. He looked deeply into Rachel's eyes for what seemed like a long time just as he always had to let her know that something 'special' is about to happen; but this time, Rachel wasn't sure if Ross was zoning out or he was just really looking deeply into her eyes. He was so still and so quiet.
"Honey, you know my father doesn't hate you…" Rachel said when Ross made no other movement whatsoever, her lips curving up into a soft smile. If Ross replied, then he's still awake. If not, her husband just might have fallen asleep for the first time with his eyes open.
"Later." Ross cut her off with a kiss, passionate at first and then eventually becoming soft and short as Ross made his way down the curve of Rachel's neck. He broke their hand clasp and his hand went under her shirt and caressed her stomach for a fleeting moment. Then, he stopped altogether, and pretty soon Rachel felt his warm breath blowing steadier and steadier against her neck.
Rachel sighed and broke into soft laughter as she took a glance at her sleeping husband. "Damn! Am I not that sexy anymore? Sex had better be good this weekend, mister!" she mumbled laughingly. Ross was so tired, she could tell; so she was not mad or upset. If anything, she found it funny how Ross tried to fulfill his duties as a husband to her, but in a comical way, failed to do so. She was surprised that he got as far as kissing her considering how his eyes looked like they were about to fall. With a sigh, she kissed the tip of her husband's nose. "I love you, honey…" she whispered, closing her eyes, before sleep finally descended upon her, resting safe and comfortably encircled in her husband's loving arms. There was really nothing else she could ever wish for, except maybe that tomorrow would be the same as the day that had just ended.
=====
"Daddy can you get a big Christmas tree?" James requested over breakfast the next morning.
"Sure thing, sport," Ross replied, taking a sip of his morning coffee.
"Can you get it tonight?" James asked.
Rachel looked at her son. "James, I don't think that's a good idea. Daddy has a long day today and you don't want him to get too tired now, do you? Now, just be a good boy and eat your Cheerios."
James reluctantly obeyed, but then later shook his head. "But when are we gonna get the Christmas tree?" he whined. "You said Grandpa Green is coming on Saturday so Daddy can't get the tree then."
"Well, there's still Sunday," Rachel replied as a matter-of-factly.
"But I'm sleeping over at Aunt Monica's on Sunday," James pointed out.
"It's all right." Ross thought for a second. "I can get the tree tonight…"
"Ross," Rachel stated firmly. "You know you don't have to try to be Superman all the time…I don't want you overdoing yourself any more than you already do…"
Touched by his wife's concern, Ross stood up to plant a kiss on the crown of Rachel's head. "Sweetie, I don't have to try…I am Superman," Ross smirked jokingly. "Besides, James is right. There'll never be a better time. Christmas is coming in like what, two weeks?"
"Yeah!" James joined in excitedly. "My daddy is Superman. He can do anything!"
Rachel smiled at her son. James' confidence in his father was immeasurable. Rachel didn't think it could ever be shattered. Ross has proved over and over that he could do anything and be everything to his family. That was what made him too good to be true sometimes, she mused smilingly, glad that she became his Mrs. Geller.
"Whatever!" Rachel rolled her eyes, directing her answer to her husband. "Seriously, honey, I don't want you to overdo yourself any more than you need to. I know that as a Geller, you tend to want things to be perfect, but—"
Ross smiled and silenced Rachel with a brief kiss. "I'll get the tree."
"Daddy, a big one, okay?" James reminded.
"Of course, sport." Ross leaned down to kiss the boy's head.
"Promise?" James pressed.
Ross smiled and nodded. "I promise…" He pulled his sleeve up and glanced at his wristwatch. "Well, I better go. I can't be late for work…"
"Dadddsss!" Emma called to her Daddy, holding out her oatmeal-covered hand.
"Bye, princess…" Ross kissed the happy toddler. He straightened up and turned to his son who stood up on his chair to face him. "And James, little buddy, I'll come back later with the tree, okay?"
"Yes sir!" James excitedly saluted at his chuckling father. "I love you, Daddy."
"Love you, too, sport." Ross ruffled his boy's hair. "And of course, you too princess," he quickly added, knowing exactly what was coming from his daughter who already opened her mouth to get his attention.
Rachel stood up and walked her husband to the door. As they walked, she ran the list of things Ross could possibly forget. "Okay, the Salinger folder you took out from your briefcase last night? The file for your meeting today? Your Palm? Cellphone?"
Ross chuckled and set his briefcase down on the floor. "You're worse than my new secretary, do you know that?" He pulled Rachel close, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist.
"I've never met your new secretary," Rachel replied, lacing her fingers together at the back of Ross's head. "Is she hot?" She demanded like one jealous wife.
Ross shrugged his shoulders, not once breaking his eye contact with his wife. "Nah…not as hot as you," he replied with a smile before covering Rachel's mouth with his.
They kissed, long and deep, but when they heard James' footsteps approaching and yelling, "Mommy!" the couple didn't think twice and jumped back from each other. They have a rule: no heavy kissing in front of the kids. Brief and light pecks were okay, but 'tonsil hockey' was a big no-no.
Flustered, Rachel ran a hand through her honey-blonde locks and tried to keep a neutral face. "Yes, James?" she asked when the boy appeared in the hallway.
But James was no fool. Though he didn't see it, he knew exactly what his parents were doing before he walked in. He grinned, mischievous and big. His Uncle Chandler, his Aunt Monica's husband, told him that if his Mommy and Daddy were 'really' kissing, it just meant that they love each other—that, or they just want to give him and Emma a baby brother or sister. He never really understood what his uncle meant with the latter reason. Nevertheless, he loved listening to his Uncle Chandler's explanations because he had always treated him like an adult—much to the chagrin of his slightly over-protective parents.
"Umm, nothing…" James replied, slightly blushing, before he ran back into the kitchen. Whatever he had to say could wait.
Rachel grabbed Ross's hand. "Honey, we can't let James sleep over at Monica's this weekend." It was a statement rather than a suggestion. "Chandler teaches him all kinds of stuff!"
"You are so cute when you're all motherly and worried like that," Ross commented.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Ross, I'm serious!"
"I know…" Ross replied, planting a kiss on the tip of Rachel's nose.
"Then do something about it!" Rachel blurted out. "I mean, I don't want our child knowing about the birds and the bees before the time even comes when he'd ask me about it!"
Ross chuckled. "If he already knows about it, I don't think he'd even come to ask you," he joked. When Rachel rolled her eyes again, he laughed. "Okay, I'll talk to Chandler."
"Thank you!" Rachel replied. She fixed her husband's tie and looked up at him. "Seriously, honey, I don't know what I'd ever do without you…"
"You always say that," Ross noted. "But you know, I don't think you're ever going to lose me…I'm yours forever, remember?" he added with a wink. He brought his hand to Rachel's face and gently stroked her cheek. "I'll take care of you and our children until my very last breath…Well, you more than them because, soon James and Emma will grow up and get married and leave us…"
Rachel giggled, although the thought of her children growing up and leaving them was a little unnerving. "So what you're saying is that we'll grow old together?"
"Exactly…because I love you. And I can't think of a better person to grow old with except you," Ross replied slowly with a smile. "No leaving, no giving up…"
"You promise?" Rachel asked half-seriously like a little girl asking for reassurance.
"Of course!" Ross replied, chuckling lightly.
"Well, then, Atty. Dr. Geller, I promise not to leave you or give you up either…ever." Rachel smiled sweetly and then tiptoed to touch her nose to Ross's. "Ooh, your nose is sticky," she muttered laughingly, rubbing her nose furiously with her hand.
Ross laughed. "Yeah, that's probably from when I kissed Emma goodbye."
Rachel giggled and then sighed. "I love our life…I love us…I love you…everything! I hope things will never change…"
"They don't have to," Ross said reassuringly. "And even if they do, I can only imagine it's going to be for the better."
"You think?"
"Hey, when have I ever been wrong?" Ross smirked playfully.
Rachel rolled her eyes before lifting her lips to meet Ross' for one final kiss. "Oh, you are so smug, Geller. You think you're always right. You're lucky you married someone who can deal with that attitude…"
"Yeah, I am lucky…lucky and very happy…" Ross whispered. "That's why I intend to spend the rest of my life making you feel the same…and that's a promise…"
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"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack frost nipping at your nose…"
Ross smiled as he hummed along to The Christmas Song on the radio on his way to pick up a fresh pine tree before he drove home. He loved the holidays, and he was looking forward to this upcoming one especially. He and Rachel just had so many plans and his heart was already bubbling with excitement. He loved his life. He loved everything about it. Like Rachel, he really didn't want things to change. He loved it just the way it was…perfect.
People from work told him that it was easy for him to call his life 'perfect' because he had never gone through the darkest storms. If everything were taken away from him suddenly, would he still feel the same about it? If one day he just woke up and find himself unable to fulfill his duties to his family, would he still consider his life perfect? Worse, would his family be able to carry through the storm? What if his life was just a living lie masked behind the beautiful imagery of perfection?
Ross just laughed at these questions posed by his work colleague that day. With Rachel and their two beautiful children, it was just hard to imagine a storm that could possibly shatter their calm, perfect world. He didn't think it wouldn't be possible, but at this point, it just seemed so distant and unrealistic to him.
Ross cleared the fog on the windshield with the sleeve of his jacket and peered out at the road ahead of him. There was no one in front of him, but there must have been three or four cars trailing behind his maroon SUV. Jerkily, he pumped on the brakes since the road was somewhat slick that night. The temperature had risen earlier that day, melting some of the snow already on the ground. So, when the temperature dropped again by evening, the slush on the road turned into annoying packs of ice, making the road a little bit slippery.
"Oh, damn!" Ross cursed under his breath when lost control of his vehicle momentarily and skidded somewhat. Fortunately, he had enough experience driving in the snow that he was able to regain control of his car without panicking. Ross let out a sigh of relief after he escaped the minor skidding incident. The last thing he needed right now was an accident. His family depended on him and he couldn't let them down. So, more carefully this time, he drove at a much slower speed until some of the impatient cars behind him began passing him. He didn't care nevertheless. He'd much rather take an extra ounce of preventative measure than to speed to his death. After a brief glance on the clock in the dashboard, he kept driving northbound.
Unexpectedly, out of seemingly nowhere a drunken truck driver came careening from the west. Just before the driver's reflexes could kick in to stop before the red stop sign, the 6-wheeler truck violently gyrated and crashed right into the SUV carefully crossing the intersection, pushing it quite a few feet eastward. The screeching of the brakes was loud. Creepy. Red spots tainted the snow along with sharp shards of glass. All the other cars behind the maroon SUV stopped before the site of the accident, all aghast at the horror that took place. It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly. As the drivers sat, shaken and unable to make another move, silently they wondered if at least two families would be shedding tears this Christmas…
To be continued…