Chapter 8: The One With The Homeless Shellfish
Yet another morning had started and unlike yesterday, everyone had gotten up early. Early that is before 10 a.m., which was for some people really early. Of course, it was part of the plans that they, well she actually, had made for today. And for that plan to work, everyone had to be up by now.
Fortunately, that was the case.
While Monica busied herself with making coffee, she listened as Rachel first denied and later, as that didn't work, tried to explain her trauma on the swings. Of course, Chandler wasn't taking it very seriously.
"What are you smiling about?"
Monica had turned around, facing the table now, but didn't realize that Rachel was talking to her, or that she was smiling for that matter, until she met Rachel's gaze. "Huh?"
"Why have you told Chandler that story?" Rachel questioned, annoyed. "Maybe I should tell him an embarrassing story about you that involves swings that I heard from Ross…" she challenged as an evil smile appeared on her face.
"Don't you dare," she said warningly, staring at Rachel, as she sat down next to Chandler.
"Oh, please do," Chandler, of course, encouraged.
Grinning, Rachel turned her attention to the man sitting on the other side of the table. "Monica once broke the porch swing and blamed it on hurricane Gloria."
She expected loads of sarcastic and insulting comments, so she rested her head in the palm of her hand and avoided eye contact, but as the response didn't come, she dared to look up. He had his head tilted to one side as he frowned.
"How did you do that? Were you jumping on it?" he finally asked, looking directly at Monica.
"She was pretty big back then, remember?" Rachel said emphasizing on the word 'big' while making hand gestures, to make her point clearer.
Monica cringed inwardly, not enjoying being remembered by those horrible days when she was overweight. True, she had made peace with it and it was all in the past, though she couldn't help but feel a bit hurt whenever it was mentioned.
"Yes, I remember," Chandler shrugged dismissively, not indulging further on the subject, much to Monica's delight. "I just find it hard to believe that one person could break a swing, especially since nothing happened when Monica and I shared a swing to-"
"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Rachel cut in, waving her hand in front of her, interrupting Chandler. "When did that happen?" she asked, leaning over the table, glancing between the two of them.
"Last night."
"Last night?!" Rachel repeated, throwing her hands, palms up, in the air and leaned back in her seat again. Clearly, she wanted more information on that subject, but she didn't get that as the other three came back from getting some luxury bread from the supermarket.
The table was set and the other three joined them at the table, while the croissants were handed out by Phoebe, who couldn't say the word 'croissant' enough times since she had discovered that she was indeed able to pronounce the word.
But Monica didn't really notice anything other than that happening as her thoughts were thrown back to the adventurous night she had. The smile she had supported that night immediately came back on her face. When she woke up this morning she could hardly believe that all had actually happened, but now that he had confirmed it, she knew for sure that it had happened. Somehow, it was all so dreamlike. Two adults, who were best friends, sharing a swing in the middle of the night, that sounded like something so random that would only occur in dreams. This, however, was reality. And she couldn't be happier.
That she had a great time and a whole lot of fun, was an understatement. One of the things she realized while swinging, was that lately all the times she had felt the happiest and relaxed, was when she was around her goofy friend. If it were just together sharing the loveseat back home, or having fun in the hotel's kitchen, or strolling through the camping at nighttime.
"Uh, Pheebs?"
Monica was pulled back from her thoughts by the hesitant voice of the leading person in her daydream. Glancing at her side, she saw Chandler looking at his empty plate, while he had his hand raised in the air.
"Can I have one too?" he asked when Phoebe kept her mouth shut. She still remained silent as she started to prepare her breakfast, earning questioning looks from every direction of the table. "Pheebs?" he tried again, frown deepening, but it was a lost cause.
"Why did you only grab five croissants?" Ross asked while glancing between the plates on the table. "Did you miscount?"
"No," Phoebe shook her head, still only paying attention to her bread.
"So you just didn't get me one?" Chandler asked for clarification and Phoebe just nodded her head. "Why?"
Her head shot up. "Oh, you know why," she said matter-of-factly.
"Now see, that's where you are wrong because otherwise I wouldn't have asked and I would have prepared myself for an impromptu hunger strike."
"Because you broke our pact!" Phoebe finally spat out.
"Oh no!" Joey immediately said accusingly, but probably clueless to what she really was talking about.
"What pact?" Chandler questioned.
"Oh, please," Phoebe responded, disbelievingly. "I heard you and Monica last night."
"What did the two of you do last night?" Rachel asked, confused even more than earlier that morning, which wasn't out of the ordinary since she hadn't received an answer back about that either.
Everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to Monica and Chandler, while Monica glanced at Chandler, not understanding what their conversations from last night had to do with whatever was bothering Phoebe.
"You mean the back-up plan?" Chandler eventually guessed after a pause. Phoebe gave him a single nod as if waiting for him to explain it further. "Phoebe," he began, refocusing his eyes on her, "I know that I'm like third, if not further, in line to be your back-up."
Phoebe was about to defend herself, but chose otherwise, probably because of everyone staring at her. "How do you know about that?"
"Ross and Joey told me," he shot back, smugly. "As did Gunther."
"Phoebe!" Ross almost shouted, accusingly. "You can't back up your back-up."
"Yeah," Joey agreed.
"So everyone has a back-up, except for me?"
"And I am your second back-up?" Monica added to the pile of questions.
"Besides," Chandler continued, ignoring the others, "you, or Rachel for that matter, would only ever want to be with me, because of the money."
"Well, duh," Phoebe confirmed, without even a slight hesitation.
"What? Are you rich?" Rachel leaned over the table, suddenly interested as her former spoiled-self took over herself, making Monica's eyes roll.
Chandler shook his head, disbelievingly. "And that's exactly why I want Monica as my first back-up," he replied, looking directly at her as he put his arm briefly around her shoulders to squeeze it slightly.
She couldn't help that big smug grin that started to form on her face as she and Chandler shared a short glance at one another before Phoebe started talking again.
"So, now I have to wait for Monica to turn forty too?" she whined, as of it was the end of the world. "This is so unfair! I've already lost Ross to Emily… and now I might have to wait even longer… If I don't get married ever, because you put Monica first…" she pointed a finger at Chandler.
"-and when all the other people on this planet are miraculously already married-" Chandler added.
"-then I'll curse you and your married life."
"In that case," Monica cut in, really wanting to put this hypothetical conversation to an end because now it seemed more like it was going to go on forever, "Chandler will look for your soul-mate."
"I will?" he turned to her once again, though this time with a grimace.
"Yes," she confirmed, nodding her head and trying to keep a straight face as she took it a bit further, "in fact, he will fly to Minsk to get David."
"Oh! I'd like that!" Phoebe clapped her hands, excitedly.
"So, you're just gonna send the love of your life to Minsk?" he repeated her words, still looking at her. "Just like that?" he snapped his fingers, waiting for confirmation. Monica nodded, grinning slightly so only he would notice, just to show that she was teasing. "Okay," he shrugged in response. "I've seen Yemen, might as well visit Belarus. Can't get much worse, right?"
"Hello," Rachel alarmed, waving her arms in the air from across the table. "What about me? I still have no back-up?"
"I'm sure Gunther is willing to trade," Chandler stated, receiving questioning looks from everyone around the table, but before the conversation could start from the start again, he continued. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm gonna get me some of the regular breakfast food," he said, grabbing a bowl, milk, and cereal from the table.
It was far from quiet at breakfast as Phoebe accused Rachel of stealing Gunther. The others kept quiet though and didn't even seem interested in the discussion. Joey had let the topic go long ago and was just enjoying his breakfast. Ross reluctantly ate his food, not having said a word since Phoebe mentioned Emily. Monica felt kind of sorry for Chandler, because he had said quite some sweet things, at least for her benefit, but still he had no croissant. Not that it really mattered as he seemed to enjoy his cereal and it wasn't like he was as obsessed with food as her or Joey. But she still felt sorry, so she cut her piece in half and handed him one of the parts.
"Thanks," he smiled one of his sweetest smiles at her, showing how grateful he was with such a simple gesture. "Another reason you're my first choice," he whispered.
"What about that guy?"
"Well, he's obviously alone. And he's pretending to read a book-"
"Pretending? How come?"
Chandler sighed and sat up more, so he could face Monica better. "He's wearing sunglasses while reading a book. It's the perfect crime. When in reality he's looking over the book and lur-" he shook his head, correcting himself, when he realized who he was talking to, "looking at the female population."
Monica lifted her sunglasses to let it rest upon her head, which resulted in him seeing her narrowed eyes. "That's just sick. You sure?"
"Either that or he is in hiding. But in that case, he would-"
"-still be lurking at chicks," she finished his sentence.
Chandler smiled down at her as he tilted his head sideways. "Your words."
"Men!" she groaned in response.
He just shrugged as he glanced around him. Sure, it was no Baywatch, as Joey pointed out later, but still, he couldn't deny the beauty that walked around on the beach. Or that one beauty that was currently laying on a beach towel beside him. But he was very careful not to look in her direction in that way. Especially with her brother walking around on the beach too.
"As are you!"
Chandler's head snapped back toward the woman beside him, who, going by her tone of voice, was accusing him of something. "Huh?"
"I said that you men are really pathetic with your non-subtle staring."
"So, you're finally admitting that I am a man?" he couldn't help but point out. It was nothing new that he was labeled as pathetic. That happened on a weekly basis.
"Ugh," she groaned again and let herself drop backward on the towel.
That only made him smile more and upon realizing that their conversation had come to an end, he went back to looking around him again. Watching and judging strangers is always entertaining. Something they did a lot in New York too, where everyone apart from the six of them, and Gunther, in Central Perk was a stranger to them.
He waved over at Phoebe who was coming his way. With a big smile on her face, a bright yellow bucket and a skip in her step, she looked like she seemed to have the most of fun, not at all ashamed to show her inner-child.
"Look at all the seashells I found!" she exclaimed excitedly as she dropped down on her own beach towel and emptied the content of the bucket on another one.
Chandler examined the pieces. "So, how many pieces does this jigsaw have?"
"I don't know, I lost count," she answered seriously, to which Chandler raised an eyebrow. "I just think that it's unfair that the broken shells never get any attention and never get picked," she continued as she rummaged through the pieces and randomly picked up two pieces to see if they fit together. "And now I'm going to rebuild the shells to give them a second chance. Maybe I can give some homeless shellfish a new home."
"Ah, real estate Buffay, for all your glued-together homes under sea level."
"Uh-huh," she nodded in agreement, busying herself with the task at hand.
"I absolutely think that you should share your ideas with Ross," Monica said, amused as she sat back up again, leaning backward on her elbows.
Chandler chuckled slightly, not too loud so Phoebe wouldn't get suspicious.
"So, what were you guys doing?" Phoebe asked them when silence fell.
"Checking out guys," Monica replied nonchalantly.
"Chandler too, huh?" Phoebe winked at him, making Chandler wince. But before he could deny it, Monica spoke up again.
"No, he was lurking at chicks," she responded with disgust. "Sick, don't you think?"
"No," Phoebe shrugged, "I do that too."
This could get interesting…
"Okay, not necessarily that way," she admitted and explained further, noticing her friends' blank expressions. "It's important to know about the competition with Mr. Peekerson over there," she nodded her head in the direction of the man, Chandler and Monica were talking about earlier.
He shot Monica an 'I told you so'-look, which she dismissed immediately.
"And Chandler," Phoebe added, "if you want attention from those ladies, maybe you should take your shirt off. Like all the beachgoers do."
Ah great, another lecture about the T-shirt he hadn't taken off.
Just before he turned back to Phoebe, he noticed Monica's 'haha'-smirk. "Believe me when I say that my chances of getting to talk to a woman are much higher when I keep it on. Taking it off will just send the whole female population, with Joey chasing after them, running to wherever is furthest away."
"That is so true."
"Says the man who hasn't seen his wife since the wedding," Chandler shot back at Ross, who had just arrived at their spot on the beach.
"Heh!" he cried, offended. "That is-" he cut his own sentence short as he saw his beach towel. Or better, what was sprawled upon it. "Phoebe, what is this?!"
"Oh," Phoebe said, still excited and seemingly very oblivious to Ross's tone of voice, "you're gonna love this idea…"
Chandler and Monica simultaneously looked at one another, before bursting out in laughter. Their friends could be so predictable at times.
"Rachel! How many times have I told you that you have to use the brush for the cups too? Just dipping it under water is not good enough."
"Was about time you noticed," Rachel murmured, loud enough for Monica to hear though.
That got her full attention and caused her to stop drying the dishes immediately. "What?" she raised her eyebrows and turned sideways to face her friend by leaning against the counter, resting one hand on her hip.
"Monica," Rachel replied as she put another wrong-washed cup in the other sink, "that was like the fourth cup that I put away like that. I'm just saying that it took you very long to notice."
"Rachel!" she accused her friend again. Unbelievable that she did that on purpose. She knew that washing the dishes was all but a game to Monica.
Rachel shrugged with a smirk on her face. "It just seems like that someone has something on their mind," she wiggled her eyebrows.
Monica barely registered Rachel's words as she looked how her friend kept washing not only the cup but practically everything else in the wrong way. Her fingers started to itch. It was so unfair. They had been roommates for like four years now, you should assume that she had remembered the system by now. Like it wasn't enough that she had to do the dishes at this public place.
The decision was made quickly. She threw the dishtowel at Rachel and almost shoved Rachel out of the way and threw everything back in the water, to wash it again. If she wanted to do right, she'd better just do it herself. She should have known.
"Or better yet, someone."
Once again, Monica was clueless to what Rachel was talking about, "What?" she asked as she gently nudged her head at the pile of dishes Rachell had to dry, but Rachel seemed more interested in the topic where she apparently had some unanswered questions in.
"Oh come on, Mon," she said, her impatience and annoyance growing as she dropped her hands at her side. "I've known you since forever and I can tell when something, or in this case someone, is on your mind. But," she paused, her annoyance turning more into frustration by every second that passed, "I just can't figure out who it is."
Monica glanced sideways for a second, raising her eyebrows in question, before turning back to the dishes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied earnestly.
"All the signs are there," Rachel continued, waving her hands, and the towel, wildly in the air in front of her. "You've been more lost in your thoughts lately and you've been happier too."
She had to admit that Rachel had some points here. It was only this morning that she had come to the conclusion herself that she had been happier in general. She had even realized who was the cause of that…
"Even now you're being all distant again," Rachel pointed out and Monica realized that she was right once again as she had stopped washing those dishes. "Oh! Is it someone you can't like because he is already involved," she guessed.
"There is no one," Monica replied sternly, ripping the dish towel out of Rachel's hands to continue drying the pile that had started to grow.
"Or is it Danny?" Rachel kept guessing. "Because that's okay. I, hereby, give you my permission to ask him out."
"What?" she responded, shocked but also confused. "What about you and Danny?"
"Oh," she dismissed like it was nothing, "that isn't going anywhere anyway."
Monica eyed her friend's face for a second. It seemed like it only took a few days for her friend to have forgotten about their newly discovered neighbor. "You've got your eyes on someone else?"
"Uh…"
That said enough. "You're interested in Ross again?" she almost yelled in disbelieve. Some other people around them turned their heads, to see what the fuss was about.
"No, not again," Rachel said immediately, her gaze focused at the floor as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "More like… still," she admitted in a whisper.
"Rachel!" Monica screamed but lowered her voice as she became aware of the growing audience. "You do remember he is married, right?"
"Yes, I know," she rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't keep us from taking our relationship to the next level."
Monica blinked a few times. Rachel was making less sense by the second, making it hard for her to keep her focus on the wet plates that needed to be dried. "How's that?"
Rachel was smiling very brightly all of a sudden as she answered. "He offered to be my back-up, just like Chandler asked you."
Sighing, Monica contemplated if she should bring Emily up again, but it didn't seem that a marriage was an obstacle in Rachel's dreamy state. "Maybe he was just trying to get back at Phoebe," she spoke carefully, putting the last dried plated on the pile, before going back to the sink with the dishwater for the next round.
She could feel Rachel's intense gaze on her, obviously not pleased with the comment.
"You two realize that the idea of washing the dishes together, is to get the work done earlier, right?"
Both of the girls turned around, upon hearing Chandler's voice. Judging from the direction he was coming from and the fact that his hair was still wet, he had just taken a shower.
"You'd think, huh?" Monica said quickly, a bit annoyed too that it was taking them, or better her, so long to complete such a simple daily task.
"Rachel's screwing with the system?" he said matter-of-factly, cocking an eyebrow and Monica answered with a single nod.
"Hello!" Rachel tried to get in between the conversation her other friends were having. "I have ears and eyes, you know."
"Good luck with that," he chuckled, nudging his head toward Rachel while keeping eye contact with Monica before he walked past them to the exit. Monica returned to the dishes, once again.
"How mean… He barely acknowledged me."
"Well, maybe that has something to do with the lecture you gave him earlier on the beach," Monica shot back.
"That's different," she replied knowingly. "The man comes with a shirt. That's weird."
"What's weird?" Monica felt like she needed to defend him, especially after all the judgments and lectures everyone had poured over him, just because he kept his T-shirt on. "Walking around without a shirt is probably out of his comfort zone. Just let him be."
"That doesn't bother you?"
"No," she shrugged. "I can identify."
"See, that's another thing I don't get," Rachel threw up her hands as she leaned with her back against the counter. "You and Chandler and your secrecy. First, a lot of things happen in London, which you still haven't told me anything about. Then there was last night with the swings," she tilted her shoulders in question, "whatever that means. Not to mention that you seem perfectly fine, even more than fine, with the idea of you two getting together when you are forty. And just now you seem incapable to look at anyone else but each other. Even now-"
Had she finally come to an end to the likely useless and pointless list? What was wrong, and moreover weird, that Monica had spent time with Chandler? They had been doing that ever since he had moved in across the hall from her. What-
"Mon?" Rachel questioned short pause. Monica deterred the joy in her friend's voice. Joy combined with so much glee, like she had discovered something incredibly important.
"Yeah?"
"What is so interesting about Chandler's back?"
It took her a few seconds before she had registered the question completely. And once she had heard the question over and over in her head again, she realized that she was distracted. As in she had stopped scrubbing the dishes and was indeed looking out of the window, that was placed over the sink, at Chandler. And the worst part was that Rachel was, in fact, right. Again.
Monica ducked her head as she felt her cheeks redden. She didn't really know, though. Because she was caught? But of what? Staring at her friend? Nothing to be ashamed about, right? Yet, it felt like she should feel ashamed.
Monica shook her head, trying to clear it. It was all very confusing.
"You're blushing!" Rachel pointed out, excitedly. "Do you have a thing for Chandler?" Before Monica could even say anything or think about the question, she continued, having drawn her own conclusions already. "Oh my god, you have a thing for Chandler!" she cried, actually jumping around and once again drawing attention from everyone else present in the room. "This is so surreal!" she put her hands on her own cheeks, amazed.
"Rachel, why don't you bring this back to our tents," Monica suggested, picking up the pile of plates and a few cups that were washed and dried. It was better for Rachel to leave now before she would bring up the wedding book and start planning a wedding. And before Monica even had a chance for herself to think this subject through. Thoroughly.
"Right," Rachel took the pile, apparently unable to wipe that big grin off her face. "But we're having a girls' night in later," she said more enthusiastic than ever, almost skipping as she left the building, not waiting for a response.
"Be careful!" Monica called after her, afraid that she would drop everything.
"This is so exciting!"
Before Monica could say otherwise, Rachel was gone. And maybe that was for the better because she really couldn't trust her voice, or facial expressions, right now. This really wasn't that much of a big deal, because Rachel was just jumping to conclusions like gossipers tend to do. Conclusions based on small things she had noticed. So, this really wasn't that exciting or interesting.
Right?
