Sorry this took so long to get up. I had serious writers block mixed with exams and a cold.
Hope you enjoy it (:
Monica Bing shifted her weight to her other hand, leaning heavily on her palm as she scrubbed the underside of the cabinet. Chandler sat at the kitchen table, colouring with his children.
"Hey, Mon?"
"Yuhuh?"
"Did you ever call your mom back about the thanksgiving vacation?" Monica turned to look at him, a sheepish expression on her face,
"Er … Sure. Yeah, I … I did that," She stammered,
"Mon! You said you'd call her back. She wants to spend the holidays with her grandkids,"
"I know, I know, I just … C'mon Chandler, you really want to spend Thanksgiving with my parents in a dumb beach house?" She dropped her sponge into the bowl of soapy water and slid off of the counter, joining him at the table next to Erica, who was squabbling with Jack over the yellow crayola. Chandler looked at his wife,
"What do you suggest we do instead?"
"We could …" She stopped, looking at her children. She remembered back to their very first thanksgiving, the first in their house, when she had invited all of her friends round for the holidays. She remembered Phoebe shovelling turkey into her mouth for the first time ever while Mike eyed her plate grumpily, and Emma sitting up at the table with them and sharing her stuffing with her teddy bear. She remembered Joey not-crying about all the change, and the twins gurgling happily in their crib as Chandler blew raspberries and kissed them all over their tiny faces.
"Mon?"
"I guess it'll just be us!" she smiled, "You'd like that, right guys?" She said, taking the crayon and repeating herself, "just the four of us for thanksgiving this year?"
"No Grandma and Grandpa?" Jack asked,
"Nope, just You, Erica, Daddy and me!" he looked deep in thought, and then looked across at Erica, who had an identical expression on her almost identical face. They looked at each other for a few seconds, apparently considering it, and then both turned to their parents and nodded vigorously. Chandler suspected that they, like their mother, hadn't really been looking forward to going away with their grandparents. He leant over Jack for another crayon just as Monica's work pager vibrated loudly across the counter top. She grabbed it, and then reached for the phone,
"I might have to go in for a couple of hours. Julian's struggling with the rush," She smiled and kissed Chandler goodbye, then kissed Jack and Erica on matching rosy cheeks and hurried out, down the hall and out of the front door. Normally she would have walked the 20 minutes it took to get to Bings, but Julian had sounded so frantic on the phone that she slipped into the Porsche her father had given her years ago and was pushing open the heavy kitchen door within 5 minutes. Julian span passed her, barking orders and sending waiters out with food. Monica smiled at her chaotic kitchen and grabbed Julian by the shoulders as he went to stir the bouillabaisse with a cheese grater,
"Sweetie,"
"Thank god! Monica, you gotta get in here, I'm going crazy. The sauce has lumps, the chickens dry and people keep requesting your duck confit from the other night. I don't know what I …"
"Honey, honey. You have to calm down. I'm here, okay? Right, tell Molly to scrap the sauce …" Monica leapt into chef-mode, feeling energy surge through her body, just as Chandler collapsed onto the couch, feeling his energy running out.
"Daddy's just going to … sleep forever,"
"Da-ad!" Erica whined, trying to tug him up by his wrist. He sat up slightly and then grabbed her round the waist and flung her down onto the cushions next to him, tickling her until she squealed with laughter.
"Can we get pizza, daddy?" Jack asked, dive-bombing between his twin sister and father.
"Sure, as long as you don't tell mom," Chandler sighed, leaning sideways across his children and grabbing the phone, stealing a kiss from both of his children on the way back up, making Erica squirm and Jack pull a face.
When Monica finally crossed the porch and slid her key in the lock, wondering how three people had managed to leave on every single light in the house, it was gone nine, but she didn't expect her children to be in their beds. She found them all sprawled across the couch, surrounded in half eaten pizza with a movie blaring out from the TV. Monica grinned, shutting it off and stroking the hair off her husband's forehead. He smiled and opened his eyes slowly,
"Hey,"
"Hi," She smiled back, "help me out here?" She scooped Erica into her arms and carried her down the hall to her room, closely followed by Chandler, who had Jack snuggled into his chest.
"So, you had fun, huh?" she said, picking up the pizza boxes and straightening the couch cushions.
"Yeah," he laughed, taking the boxes from her, "How's the restaurant?"
"It's still standing. Julian just hasn't got the hang of being alone yet," Chandler followed her through to the kitchen, knocking his knee against the phone table as he passed it and knocking the small pad and pen onto the floor. He noticed a small scribbled note that he recalled making earlier that evening, before Jack had decided to play Everest and scale the closet,
"Oh, Mon! I forgot! Guess who called earlier?"
"Oh, it wasn't my mom was it? Did you say –?"
"No, no, it wasn't your mom. But it is Thanksgiving related,"
"Oh yeah?" Monica looked up, dipping her hand into the box and pulling out a lukewarm slice, picking mushrooms from the top absentmindedly as she looked expectantly at Chandler,
"Rachel called asking if we wanted to spend thanksgiving with everyone,"
"Everyone?"
"Everyone, Joe's coming back from LA, Pheebs and Mike'll be there with their kids. Everyone back together again, as a group,"
"Oh my gosh!" Monica leapt up in her seat, "that sounds … hang on, where's this?"
"Erm … Rachel's, I guess," Monica stopped,
"Mon?"
"Rachel's cooking?"
"I suppose,"
"Rachel can't cook,"
"Maybe she learnt,"
"Yeah, maybe,"
"Mon? D'you wanna call back and offer to cook?"
"Please!" she cried, taking the phone that he was offering her. Chandler smiled at her as she listened to it ring and then slipped into a long overdue conversation with her best friend. He grinned at the smile that had split her face open as soon as she'd heard Rachel's voice, and moved around the table to kiss her lightly on the forehead. Monica slid an arm around his waist, resting her head on his stomach. He draped an arm across her shoulders and they stayed like that for a moment, Monica occasionally laughing or replying to whatever Rachel had said. Finally she hung up the phone and smiled up at Chandler.
"We're gonna have Thanksgiving at their new place, and we're going over early so I can cook,"
"Sounds good to me, sweetie. Now, I gotta go to bed,"
"Yeah, me too," Chandler pulled his wife to her feet and took her hand leading her to their bedroom, looking in on their sleeping children as they went.
