The Prodigal Son

It was late afternoon and Monica was working frantically in the kitchen. She moved awkwardly between the stove, sink and counter as she tried to maintain a rhythm in her motions, attempting to duplicate her usual grace in a kitchen. Earlier this week, she had planned to take this time to practice her recipes and sharpen her cooking skills. A much-needed exercise after taking such a long absence from work; yet at home everything still felt slightly foreign to her. She was much more accustomed to doing this kind of food preparation in a commercial kitchen. The larger space allowed her freedom to keep more ingredients close by and she could work on multiple dishes at once. Her knives would always be in reach and she wouldn't have to stop to wash every pot or pan after each use, which would have allowed her to move on to the next entrée much quicker.

Using her own stove at home meant there wasn't enough room for the pot of sauce, the wok and the cast iron skillet she needed for the dish she was currently working on. But she made due. The bronzini was searing up nicely and the vegetables were almost at a perfect level of tenderness. The sauce she made with lemon, tarragon, dill, olive oil and capers has been completed and was ready to be drizzled on the fish once it was plated.

Chandler made his way downstairs as he followed the enticing aroma of Monica's work into the kitchen. They had made an arrangement for today where he would take the bulk of the work with the twins so Monica could spend the day in the kitchen, trying to create some new recipes and prepare for her inevitable return to work next week.

It has been getting easier with the twins. The babies were eating more, now that they were over three months old, and sleeping longer at night, but they still needed to take naps that lasted an hour or two at a time throughout the day. He had them in the den when they weren't eating or sleeping so that, when she had time, Monica could join them. They both sat on their knees while they had the babies work on tummy time exercises, encouraging each of their children to lift their heads and support their upper body on their own.

She took these moments to heart, knowing that all of these full days caring for her children were coming to a close as her vacation time and FMLA leave were almost over. Some part of her probably threw herself into cooking all day in order to distract her from dwelling too much on this fact. When she would have a moment of reflection on the upcoming changes, she wondered if this must have been how Chandler felt when he had to return to work two months ago.

As Chandler entered the kitchen, he looked around and his eyes went wide with wonder and shock. On the table were over a half a dozen different types of food. A half chicken, seared and crusted with herbs, served with asparagus. Tuna tartar, arranged with roe and a seaweed salad. Baby lamb chops, dressed with mint and mashed turnips. Hanger steak, sliced on an angle with a chimichurri sauce. Bao buns stuffed with pork belly and topped with spicy fresh chilies, kimchi, drizzled with a hoisin glaze, and lastly a Japanese eggplant curry served with a small portion of sticky white rice.

"Mon. What is going on in here. You know Joey lives in L.A. now? Right? There is no way we can eat all of this." He gestured wildly at the food on the table.

Monica, without averting her attention from the dish she was currently putting together, nods her head. "I know, I know. I only have one more dish to try after this one. We just need to take little bites to taste them. We can wrap most of what we don't eat for leftovers and lunches the next couple of days. Or we can see if John and Millie across the street want any of it." She turns briefly to face him and gives a crooked smile. "I just really need to exercise my cooking muscles. We've had so much take-out and pasta these last few months that I feel like I forgot how to do this. Before we know it, I am going to be back at work."

Chandler raises his eyebrows in disbelief, still looking at all of the food available. "Okay, I get it. But that," he points at the fish that she was currently bringing over to the table. "I am not touching. I don't eat food that I think can see me. I mean, look at his eyes. They're scornful and angry."

Monica scoffs. "I don't know how I ever married such a philistine when it came to food. This is a delicious piece of fish!" She starts to wave the dish at Chandler forcing him to back away. He raises his arms as if to protect himself from the fish.

"Stop that! How do we even know he is dead? I'll bet that thing sneaks upstairs tonight to exact its revenge!" Chandler moves away from the table and crosses his index fingers over each other. "Away from me minion of the devil!"

Monica laughs, places the plate down on the table and wipes her hands roughly on her apron. "Well, then at least try the steak and the lamb chops okay?"

Just as Chandler begins to suspiciously inspect the food available on the table the phone rings. "I'll get it. Why don't you take a break and try some of this stuff yourself?"

Monica, exuding almost an arrogant level of self-confidence, smirks at her husband. "Because I already know these are all great. I made them. I need to know if a schlub like you…" Chandler turns and shoots her a steely glare. "I mean, a typical man like yourself would think they tastes good too. So be prepared, because you are eating that fish!"

Chandler shivers a bit at the thought and picks up the telephone receiver. "Hello. Bing's house of horrors." Monica makes a face and mocks Chandler in an unintelligible voice. "Oh, hey Joe. Wow! How is it going! We're good. Babies are good. How is L.A. treating you? Really? No way. You've only been there for a month! That must be some agent you have."

Chandler covers the mouthpiece with his hand and looks over at Monica. "Mon, Joe already has a small, recurring part on a TV show."

Monica, returning her attention to the dirty dishes in the sink, offers up a congratulatory, "Woohoo! Way to go Joey!"

Chandler returns his focus to his conversation with Joey. "What's that? It should start airing in the next few months? Wow! Congratulations. I knew you could do it. Mon? Well, she's cooking right now, you should see all of this food. Great. What? No, I can't mail you some food. Okay. You want to what? How are we going to watch it together? Are you coming out to New York?" Chandler falls quiet for a few moments as he listens intently. "Oh. Oh. Yeah, that sounds like something we could do. That could work."

Monica, eavesdropping as she pulls out some more ingredients from the refrigerator, interjects. "What could work honey?"

Chandler again pulls the phone from his mouth. "Joey wants us to watch the show together."

"Uh, he knows how far away L.A. is? Right?"

"Yes. He wants to call us and have him on speaker phone while we watch it here and he watches it there. He bought a cable package that gives him east coast broadcasts. You don't mind, right?"

"Sure. As long as it isn't a night that I am working, I can take care of the kids if they give us any trouble so you and Joey can have your phone date. You know you don't have to ask my permission, right?"

Chandler goes quiet and puts his finger up, gesturing for her to give him a minute as he listens to what Joey is saying. "Mon, Joey says you don't have to pretend you aren't the boss for him. He knows I need your permission."

Monica laughs and calls out loudly. "Thanks Joe! I forget sometimes who I am supposed to fake it with so Chandler doesn't feel bad."

Chandler rolls his eyes and turns back to finish his conversation when the doorbell rings. Chandler and Monica share a look of bewilderment, neither able to guess who might be at their door. "Joe. I got to go. Someone is at the door and Monica is making another weird fish thing that I swear is watching me and it creeps me out, so I am going to see who it is. I'll call you later on in the week. Okay. All right. Bye."

"Bye Joe!" Monica adds in a singsong voice as Chandler hangs up. Her focus already on preparing her last dish of the evening. Chandler looks over her shoulder and shudders again at the image of a whole fish laying on a platter.

"Mon. Please, throw a towel over that thing and cover his head at least. This way I can't see the eyes." Their unannounced guest knocks lightly on the door a few times. "Let me get that."

Chandler scurries through the kitchen and into the living room, approaching the front door with a smile. Thinking about the good news from Joey and already figuring out some jokes about fish that he can't wait to use on his wife. He turns the knob and pulls it open and what he sees causes his mouth to gape in stunned silence.

On his porch is a slightly stocky man, a few inches shorter than him. He has brown hair with some signs of grey whispering at the edges. His skin appears very smooth and his face looks young, even though he is over twenty years Chandler's senior. He has on a thin yellow button-down shirt, tan dress pants and white shoes with a black design in the shape of a treble clef on the tops.

"Dad?"

"Hi son."

Charles Bing had not been back to New York in several years. He spoke with Chandler only a handful of times since the wedding and only twice since the twins were born. It was more than Chandler could say for his mother, who had only sent them a gift basket filled with sensual massage oils with a card that read, "Congratulations on the baby."

Chandler had privately resigned himself to the idea that his parents were just slipping back into old habits; more involved in their own lives than his. Once they made their appearance at the wedding, they were gone again. Judging by their outfits, he was certain they were there for themselves and not for him or Monica anyway. Yet, with the babies, the move and Monica occupying his time, he didn't really think about it. He didn't feel that he needed his old family when he had this amazing new one.

"May I come in?"

Chandler suddenly shaken out of his confused stupor by his father's question, steps aside. "Of course. Come in. We're just sitting down to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Sure, but only if you have enough. I don't want you to go out of your way."

Chandler laughs, "I'm sure we will manage."

Charles sits back and dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Monica my dear, this was all so amazing. So many different flavors. I guess I got very lucky in stopping by tonight."

Monica slides her shoulders up as a bashful expression crosses her face. "Thank you. Just some stuff I whipped up."

Chandler looks over at her, raising an eyebrow at her false modesty and she makes a face at him and mouths "What?" causing him to laugh.

Charles, watching them allows a smile to spread across his lips. "You kids have your own little language, don't you? That's good. That means you're one of the ones that will last. Believe me. I have seen a lot of married couples when I lived in Vegas."

Chandler looks up quizzically and Monica takes his hand and squeezes as a sign of support. She turns her eyes towards Charles. "When you lived? What do you mean?"

Charles gets up to bring his dish to the sink and then turns around, leaning on the counter. "I've been wanting to come out to New York ever since you sent me the birth announcement. By-the-by, Monica, those pictures were adorable honey."

"You could have called." Chandler interjected.

"I know. I know. I should have. But I wasn't sure when I could come, and I didn't want to call without having a firm date. I didn't want it to sound like an empty promise. Maybe that was stupid. Anywho, it wasn't much after that when Mitchel and I decided to sell the show."

Monica lifts her head up, confused. "Mitchel?"

"Yes, uh," he looks at Chandler, "You remember Mr. Garibaldi?" Chandler nods. "There you go, well his name is Mitchel. He used to go by Mitch, but that is much too butch of a nickname for him."

Chandler uncomfortably stretches at his collar and Monica grabs his hand again to steady him as she laughs. "So, what does this mean? Did you move out of Nevada?"

"Yes." Charles looks down and shuffles his feet a bit, making a small circle with one foot and Monica could swear in that moment he was Chandler's exact double. "We thought we would look for work here, and we actually found a few clubs where the owners knew our show from Vegas. Mitchel is working on bookings now. He always took care of that side of the business."

Chandler stiffens up again, and appears slightly apprehensive. "So, does that mean you're moving to New York?"

"If it'll have me." Charles looks at the two of them and Monica can tell, he is asking for their permission. "New York State is a bit more progressive than Nevada anyway. And I would be able to spend time with my grandchildren, if that was okay with you two."

Chandler looks around the room sharply and then makes eye contact with Monica. His expression immediately informing her that he is incapable of processing all of this information. She pats his hands underneath hers and smiles reassuringly at him. She mouths "It's okay." And then turns to Charles. "We would love for them to get to know you. If you wait a bit longer, we might be able to introduce you to them when they wake up."

Charles, clearly overcome by emotion, puts his hand on his chest and can only offer up a very quiet, "Thank you for this."

Chandler gets up and starts to put some more dishes in the sink. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Charles steps back to the table to grab a few more dirty dishes, but Monica puts her hands up, gesturing for him to sit down and relax, so he does. "Actually, yes. We bought a condo just a little bit closer to the city. Maybe thirty minutes away in Yonkers."

They both look at each other again as they begin to wash dishes. Chandler, still unable to find any words, looks at Monica to take over. "That's great Charles. It will be really nice to have you so close by. My parents are all the way on Long Island and Nora, well, you know her. It will be good for one of their grandparents to be nearby."

Charles takes a sip from his wine glass and laughs. "Well, I may not come over too often if this is how you cook. I won't be able to fit into any of my outfits!"

Monica laughs and shuffles over towards the coffee maker. She begins to measure out grounds in order to make a fresh pot. "About that, so, do we call you Charles? Dad? Mom? Grandpa? I'm sorry, I'm still really new to this."

Charles laughs. "You can call me Charles, or hopefully, dad. When I am dressed as Helena, then it is normally appropriate to only call me by that name. Sometimes I get called Helena even when I am not dressed up, if you know what I mean." Charles laughs a bit at his own joke and Monica check over to see Chandler, who looks a bit uncomfortable. "But I am kind of like Ru Paul; he, she, either one works for me."

"Okay, well then, Dad it is." Monica says as she turns around and smiles.

"I'd very much like that dear."

Monica finishes pouring out the coffee as Chandler returns the last of the now clean and dry plates to the cupboard. Charles, sitting at the table, watches them, almost marveling in their domestic coordination. "You two really blow me away."

Chandler turns for a moment and flashes a half smile at his father. "What do you mean."

"I can see how in sync you two are. You're constantly touching each other, working together without even speaking. The way you both let your gaze linger for a bit when the other isn't looking. Sweetheart, if I watch much more of this, I might come down with a case of diabetes due to all the sweetness."

Monica, shifts her weight and bumps her shoulder into Chandler's side as he wraps his arm around her and kisses her on the top of her head. At that moment, the sound of a gurgling baby can be heard over the monitor on the counter. Chandler tilts his head. "That's got to be Erica. Jack would be so much louder right now. Why don't you finish with the coffee and I will bring them down." He gives Monica one more kiss and she smiles as she returns the coffee pot to warmer.

Monica sits down next to Charles and studies him for a moment as he sips his coffee. He looks over at her, slightly bemused and smiles. "Is there something you want to say dear?"

Monica shifts in her seat and takes his hand, smiling. Her tone gentle and soothing. "I love that you want to make an effort and get back into Chandler's life. It has been too long and I think it will be good for both of you. And I love that you want to get to know your grandbabies."

"Oh, well, dear…."

"I am not finished." Her tone sharpens slightly, but then returns to her previous, calming voice. "I must warn you. This is my husband and the father of my children. You and your wife really did a number on him. But I know my husband, and his heart is so big and he loves with every inch of himself, so I know he will forgive you and he will fall in love with you. That is just what he does. When he loves he puts all of himself into it. He does it with his friends, he does it with his children, he does it with me. It is an amazing gift that I cherish. If you come back here and make him go through all of that and then take off again and hurt him I will hunt you down and you won't have to worry about tucking anymore when you dress up as Helena because I will rip it off from the root. Okay?" Monica smiles sweetly as her grip tightens on Charles' hand, causing his knuckles to go white.

Taken aback by her physical strength he strains a smile and nods. "Wow. Monica. I think I like you even more now."

Monica, not wavering from her stare, pats his hand in hers. "Just so we are clear. He is under my protection now. I won't let him get hurt again."

Charles' features soften with admiration for the woman his son has fallen in love with. "I promise. I just want to make up for lost time. I'm really glad he found you. You are a remarkable woman."

"I know."

A/N – I know that there is an interview with one of the creators from a few years ago where I think they attempted a bit of revisionism and said Charles was actually transgender, but I think that is just a poor attempt to reboot the image of the character maybe? I don't know. But if he were transgender, then the show was really quite awful to him.

For the purpose of this story, Charles is a gay man who also happens to be a drag queen. Which is pretty much how he is played and referred to on the show itself. I am sort of basing him on a couple of people, my "Uncle" Ralph the most, who was not really my uncle, but lived with my Uncle Jerry (who was really my Mother's uncle) for over 50 years. He was a fun guy who played the accordion at every holiday gathering and my New York Italian-American, Roman Catholic family took him in with open arms when his own family turned him away during a time when being gay was practically illegal.

Again, not having watched Joey, his story may take a few turns that don't mesh well with that series. I have no idea if you can get a cable package with east coast broadcasting, but this is all fiction anyway, right?