October 6, 1945
I watch as Abby hops around in a circle, her fancy little dress—pink, of course—fluttering along after her. She giggles madly as it tickles her legs, and I don't have the heart to tell her to be careful with it. She stops bouncing for a few moments to grin up at me before hopping some more.
"You're silly, Abigail," I tell her.
"Yep!" she answers, skipping over to me. I kneel down to make sure her shoes are buckled properly, but Phoebe gently grabs my arm, pulling me up.
"Your dress!"
"What about it?"
"You'll get it dirty," she scolds as she bends down in front of Abby, checking her shoes for me.
"I think I can make sure my daughter's dressed properly," I answer half-heartedly, not at all in the mood to put up much of a fight.
"You look very beautiful, Abby," Phoebe says, tugging down the bottom of my daughter's dress, smoothing out a few wrinkles, and Abby beams at her.
"Thanks, Aunt Phoebe."
Phoebe looks up at me playfully, leaning into Abby's ear. "What about your mommy? How does she look?"
"You look pretty, Mommy," Abby answers and I grin down at her, my heart so full that it feels as if it could burst. "Where's my daddy?"
"Mommy and Daddy can't see each other before the wedding," Nora answers, walking through the door with my veil. "It's bad luck."
"What's bad luck?" Abby asks, and Phoebe wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"Something you don't want," she answers, kissing my little girl's forehead before standing up. "You look so beautiful, Monica," she tells me, her eyes shiny with tears and I bite my lip to keep my own at bay.
It's my wedding day. After all these years, after all the worry and loss and pain and heartbreak, I'm finally getting married to the love of my life and the father of my child.
I couldn't be happier.
I don't know how I managed to survive this last week. I thought the wait would kill me. Doing mundane tasks like going to work felt nearly impossible, and my usual five-day work week seemed to stretch into eternity.
The moment Nora walked in the door with Abby last Friday we told her about our plan to get married. All she did was stare at us for a full minute before she said, "About time," and tucked Abby into bed.
Less than an hour later, she had rough plans for every aspect of our wedding.
Just as Chandler suspected.
The next day, we all went into the city and Chandler spent most of the day with Ross. It was the first time in over a year and a half they'd seen each other, and all Chandler's been able to tell me about their reunion is that it was great to see him. I know it has to be tough and emotional for the both of them, so I haven't pushed him for details.
Abby, Nora, and I collected Phoebe and they took me dress shopping. Nora insisted on sparing no expense, telling me that I was only going to get married once, so I should make the most of it.
Still, I can't remember a time in my life when I bought a brand new dress, and not once in my life have I ever considered spending that sort of money on one outfit. I had nearly convinced myself to buy my wedding dress second-hand when I stepped out of the dressing room and everyone gasped.
Even people I didn't know.
Anyone who happened to be nearby stopped what they were doing to stare, something I've never experienced before.
By that point, I'd tried on more than a dozen dresses, and not one of them seemed right, though I'm sure a large part of that was my reluctance to spend that sort of money—especially when that money belonged to someone else. I happened to walk past a dress on a rack, and even though Nora insisted it was too simple, I tried it on anyway.
It was the one. Phoebe and Nora tried to hide their tears, and I watched Abby's eyes grow wide as she told me I looked like a princess. If nothing else, I would wear it just to make her happy.
But when I saw myself in the mirror… even I was shocked.
It's a little more modern than the dresses we looked at to begin with, and not nearly as traditional as most of the other dresses in the store, but Chandler and I had a baby years before getting married.
We don't really do "traditional," it seems.
And the dress really is perfect.
After that, finding a dress for Abby was simple; she saw one in pink and that was all that mattered. The hardest part has been keeping it away from her; she's been so eager to wear it I thought she would explode. I don't know that we'll be able to get her out of it for at least a week.
Then they took me to the beauty parlor, as it seems that I haven't actually paid much attention to my hair since my daughter was born.
Yesterday after I got home from work, Phoebe grabbed my hands and scrubbed under my nails for close to an hour to remove all of the grime that collects and never really goes away when you work in a factory.
I don't know that I've ever felt so fancy or pampered in my entire life.
The house has been like a zoo for the last seven days, though. As soon as I told Phoebe about the wedding, she took the entire week off from the Lounge, reassuring me that her job would be waiting when she got back. She's been staying with us since, helping Nora organize and plan and decorate. Abby's had the best time; she never gets to spend that sort of time with her aunt Phoebe, and I don't know what she'll do when life has to go back to normal.
Ross came out in the middle of the week to help out in any way he could; Phoebe told me that he and Chandler spent a lot of time in the barn under the guise of cleaning, though any time she went to check on them, they were usually just chatting.
I don't blame them; they still have a lot to catch up on.
All I know is that by the time I got home yesterday, the Bing Estate looked like nothing I've ever seen. It's far more done up than our tiny affair calls for, but Nora happily went a little overboard. She says it's her only chance to give her son the wedding he deserves, so she wants to do it "right."
The guest list is fairly small. I haven't put forth much of an effort over the last few years to make friends, and most of the people I know already think Chandler and I have been married for some time. Though, some people believe, or at least are willing to believe, that we didn't have a big ceremony the first time, so we're making up for it now, and I suppose that might actually be true for a lot of people. Chandler told me that a lot of his shipmates eloped the night they got their orders, and it wasn't that uncommon of a story among the women at work, either. I would imagine that lots of couples are having actual ceremonies now that the war is over.
Honestly, though, I don't care what anyone thinks or believes; if people think I'm some sort of tramp for getting pregnant before marriage or if they think we just want to have a ceremony now that we can. I doesn't matter. All that does matter is that we're finally getting married, and I don't know that it could be more perfect.
Now, I'm just anxious to see Chandler. Naturally, we haven't seen each other since yesterday evening, and it's been its own brand of torture. It really only took me a night to get used to having him next to me again, and it never occurred to me that, given our history and the fact that we have a child together, that Nora would such a stickler for this particular tradition. I didn't sleep well—if it only took one night for me to get used to having Chandler with me again, it took less than that for me to feel horribly lonely without him next to me. He did wait until Abby was asleep before he and Ross went back to Manhattan for the night, but not before we stole away for a few moments.
We sneaked out to the barn, and even though we didn't dare turn on any of the lights—I'm not sure whose wrath I feared more—Nora's or Phoebe's—but I wasn't going to risk either by them knowing we were taking a peek at that place—but I could already tell the entire place looked magical. We stood at the altar for a few moments, and he told me it was the last time he'd get to kiss me before being legally obligated to do so for the rest of his life.
He really is a pain in the ass.
Luckily, he will be my pain in the ass until the day we die.
And the way he kissed me in the faint moonlight in the cool, night air…it's worth it.
He's worth it.
Nora puts her hand on my arm and guides me to chair in front of her vanity; her suite is the only area in the house with enough room for us to change into our wedding clothes and get "dolled up," as Chandler likes to say.
She gently runs her fingers through my now shoulder-length hair, readjusting the soft waves she and Phoebe have managed to create, and I watch my reflection in fascination; this doesn't feel real, and it certainly doesn't feel as if it could be happening to me.
Carefully, she slides the veil into place, the little combs holding it to my hair tickling my scalp. Like my dress, the veil is simple, and Nora agreed wholeheartedly with this part. She didn't think I needed anything to take away from the rest of the outfit.
She sighs and rests her hands on my shoulders, her eyes finally meeting mine in the mirror. "Well," she swallows heavily, her chin quivering a little. "I think that just about does it."
"Thank you," I whisper, and she smiles at me gently.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
"No, I mean thank you for everything." I close my eyes for a moment, tears threatening to overwhelm me. I meet her eyes in the mirror again, barreling forward. "You've been so good to me. You took me in when you had no real reason to. You let me stay here with my daughter, and you've been so much more than generous. You've been such a huge part of raising her, and I know I couldn't have done it alone. You helped a scared, sad, pregnant eighteen-year-old girl when most people would have shunned her. You made me feel like family when I should have been a pariah. We had no idea if your son was alive and you let me stay, when any judge in the state would have given you custody of Abby, and they would have had every right to. You have done so much more for me than you ever should have, more than you'll ever really know, and I will never be able to thank you enough. You've been so good to me, and now…now you've outdone yourself with our wedding. You bought a dress for me." I pause again, wringing my hands together as I try to keep myself composed. "You've been a mother to me," I whisper. "And that has meant more than I can possibly express. Thank you for loving me."
She takes my hands and pulls me into her arms, both of our bodies shaking as we try our hardest not to cry, only partly succeeding. "I love you, Monica. Having you here with me the last few years has been more of a help than you could ever know. I don't know what I would have done without you and Abby." She takes my face in her hands, smiling brightly despite her tears. "You're my daughter. It's as simple as that. I will always be here for you, and I will always love you. You're stuck with the Bings for good."
"There's nowhere else I want to be."
She pulls me into her arms again, holding me tightly, and I hear Phoebe sniffling behind us. "You two are killing me," she says, passing around little handkerchiefs.
I chuckle a little as we all dab our eyes and Abby comes over to me, taking my hand. "Don't be sad, Mommy," she whispers, and I squat down to hug her, ignoring Phoebe's protests about my dress.
"Mommy's not sad, darling. Sometimes grownups cry when they're happy, too." She squints her eyes, looking at me doubtfully, and I just laugh and I kiss her forehead. "I promise."
There's a tap at the door and Phoebe hurries over, opening it just a crack. "Everything's ready outside," I hear Ross say, and she opens the door to let him in. A smile spreads across his face as he sees me, his hand going up to his heart. "Oh, wow."
Nora gives my arm a little squeeze, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "I have to go meet up with your future husband." I grin, the thought of finally being married to him almost too much. "I'll see you soon." She runs her fingers through Abby's hair for a moment before disappearing through the door.
"You look beautiful," Ross tells me, taking a few tentative steps into the room. "I can't believe you're finally getting married."
"Hi Unca Ross!" Abby runs over and grabs his hand, giving it a little tug. He grins at his niece, swooping down to grab her, tossing her in the air for just a moment before tucking her against his side. It took him some time to come around to the idea of me being a mother after he got home; for a little while, he struggled just to get by each day, having a tough time adjusting to being back in the States and being in constant pain while he healed. I told him about my daughter, but held off on introducing them until he felt stronger; I knew he had a million things to say about it, but to his credit, he managed to keep it all to himself. Maybe he realized that no matter what he said, it wouldn't change the fact that Chandler and I were parents. The moment he met Abby, however, he melted, adoring her openly from then on.
She's hard to resist.
He still had a difficult time adjusting to the idea of Chandler and me having a baby, especially since it all happened when they were away and even more so because Chandler didn't know about her, but eventually, he was just so happy to be home and alive that none of the other stuff seemed to matter.
"Hi Little Bug," he answers, giving her cheek a big kiss. "Are you excited?" She nods, smiling at him broadly. "What are you excited about?"
"My dress is pretty," she answers, and I break out into laughter. Phoebe wraps her arm around my waist; I can feel laughter shaking her body, too.
"Yes," Ross agrees, kissing her the top of her head before putting her back on the ground. "Your dress is very pretty."
"I'm so glad you're here," I whisper, holding my arms out for him. He hugs me tightly even as Phoebe bats at his hands to keep him from rumpling me.
"I didn't know that I'd live to see this day," he answers just as softly, and my heart lodges in my throat. "It's an absolute miracle." He pulls back, holding onto my arms as he smiles a little shakily. "And I can't think of a more appropriate way to celebrate the end of the war. My little sister is getting married! What's better than that?"
"Nothing that I can think of," I answer.
"Monica," Phoebe says, tapping my shoulder. She gestures toward the window with her head. "I just saw Chandler and his mother go into the barn, so I think that's our cue."
And just like that, I'm nervous. My heart nearly beats out of control as butterflies flap in my stomach, and I nod. "All right."
Phoebe hands me my bouquet then hoists Abby in the air, aiming her in my direction. "Kiss Mommy for good luck, kiddo."
Abby puckers her lips at me and I grab her cheeks gently, giving her a big kiss. Phoebe sets her down but holds onto her hand, leading my little girl out the door. Ross gives me his elbow and I take a deep breath before sliding my hand through his arm.
He pauses in the doorway, putting his hand over mine. "You all right?"
I swallow, trying to calm my sudden bout of nerves. "Yes. I'm fine."
"Because you don't have to do this—"
"Ross," I groan, but he just squeezes my fingers.
"I'm serious. If this isn't what you want, then you don't have to do it."
"It's what I want. I promise. It's just…really big. And a little scary."
He smiles, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "It was scary and big when you had Abby, right? And look how great that turned out."
My eyes brim with tears again. "She is pretty great, isn't she?"
"If this is what you really want, it'll be fine. Just take a deep breath and jump."
"Jump," I whisper. "Just jump."
Phoebe and Abby are waiting patiently for us at the bottom of the stairs, so Ross and I catch up to them as quickly as I can manage while dragging around a floor-length gown behind me. "All right, honey. What do you do when you get to the barn door?" I ask Abby as Phoebe grabs a tiny little basket of rose petals, handing it to my daughter.
"Go to Daddy," Abby answers, her eyes wide with her own sudden case of nerves.
"That's right. Just look at Daddy as you drop your flowers and you'll be fine. Remember that Mommy's right behind you if you need her, too."
Abby nods solemnly, and I see Phoebe squeeze her hand gently.
"Can she do this?" Ross breathes into my ear as we reach the back door, heading past the pool to the next gate.
"Hard to say. She's only almost three, so it's a gamble. She could panic and start crying, or the moment everyone sees her, she could milk it for all it's worth. Kids are unpredictable, Ross." I give him a little nudge with my shoulder, grinning at him sideways. "You should think about doing it yourself sometime." His face blanches and I nudge him again. "You've been seeing Rachel for a while, right?" I see his throat bob as he swallows uncomfortably and I bite back my grin—no matter how old we get, razzing on each other will always be fun.
Ahead of me, Phoebe stops at the front of the barn, giving the door a push to guide Abby gently into the building. A moment later, I hear a loud chorus of, "Awww," as everyone gets a glimpse of my little girl. A second later she shouts, "Daddy!" and all I can hear is laughter as I'm sure she runs down the aisle to see her father. Phoebe looks over her shoulder at me, grinning, before she steps into the barn, too, the door falling gently shut behind her.
I close my eyes for a moment, every emotion possible coursing through me.
My life is about to change forever. It seems ridiculous to think of finally marrying Chandler as something that life-altering, especially when unexpectedly having a child on your own changes your life in so many ways. But from now on, I'm going to be his wife. We're stuck together forever. Officially.
My heart stops racing all of a sudden as the reality of everything hits me.
I'm getting married. To Chandler. How can I be nervous about something I've wanted for so long? I've loved this man my entire adult life, and I will love him until my last breath. He's the father of my child. He's the only place I want to be.
A smile spreads across my face and I squeeze Ross's arm. "I'm ready," I tell him.
He pushes the door open and a guitar and flute start playing the processional. I don't know anyone who plays either of those instruments, so I can only suspect that it's someone Nora managed to find. It doesn't matter—it sounds lovely.
Ross guides me into the barn, and for just a second I see faces smiling at me as they stand. I don't know who a lot of these people are—maybe Chandler's extended relatives—but they all seem genuinely happy to be part of this day.
Then the world disappears as I see Chandler. My heart flutters before it starts racing again, though this time in excitement.
"It's really happening," I manage to whisper around my grin. Ross squeezes my hand and starts walking me down the aisle.
I can see my fiancée swallow heavily, his eyes brimming with tears, and all I want to do is run at him full speed. As it is, I strain against Ross just a little, so very eager to reach my future.
At the end of the aisle, Ross kisses my cheek and moves to stand next to Chandler—I'm sure no one has ever seen the bride being given away by the best man before. Time freezes for just an instant and I can hear myself breathing as my eyes meet Chandler's. I can feel my heart beating, the rhythm sure and steady as I see my life in front of me, and I don't think it's possible for me to be happier. "Let's jump," I whisper and it could by imagination, but I would swear that Chandler nods in agreement. Time goes back to normal and Chandler steps toward me, his hand reaching out to mine; as our fingertips touch, a jolt runs up my arm. He laces our fingers together and I take one last step to the altar.
"You look beautiful," he whispers, a tear escaping the corner of his eye.
"You look amazing," I answer, even though I haven't looked beyond his eyes. I look him over and am surprised to realize he's wearing a suit, not his uniform. He just squeezes my fingers before looking over to the Justice of the Peace.
Because it's not something we'd discussed for some time, and because it hasn't been a huge part of either of our lives for even longer, we decided not to worry about the ceremony being Jewish or Catholic. It's essentially a shotgun wedding anyway, so as long as the marriage is legal, that's all I care about. We can worry later about if or when he'll convert to Judaism.
We have our whole lives to worry about that part.
Our hands finally drop as we turn to face each other, and though I'm aware of words being said, none of them register. I hear the man talk about loving and honoring each other, explaining to the small crowd what marriage is, but mostly…all I can see is Chandler.
"I love you," he mouths, and I bite my lip a little to keep from smiling too large.
"Join hands."
I'm startled out of my reverie, nearly dropping my bouquet as I turn to hand it to Phoebe. I reach out for Chandler, running my fingers over the backs of his hands as I feel him shake.
"Repeat after me," the Justice says gently. "I, Monica, take thee, Chandler, to be my lawfully wedded husband."
"I, Monica, take thee, Chandler, to be my lawfully wedded husband."
"In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, for as long as we both shall live."
I take a deep breath, looking deep into his eyes, and I've never meant anything as much as I do these words. "In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, for as long as we both shall live."
"Let this ring be a symbol of our eternal love."
I panic—rings? I completely forgot about that. Chandler just winks at me, and I feel Phoebe tap my arm. In her palm is a simple band—it looks silver, though it's probably white gold or platinum like my engagement ring. I take the ring between my fingers and Chandler holds out his left hand, waiting.
I slide the ring over his knuckle and repeat, "Let this ring be a symbol of our eternal love." I lift my eyebrow at him curiously, wondering where the rings came from, but he just gives my hands a squeeze.
The Justice of the Peace turns. "I, Chandler, take thee, Monica, to be my lawfully wedded wife."
He smiles at me gently, and my heart starts to pound again. "I, Chandler, take thee, Monica, to be my lawfully wedded wife."
Wife. Oh, my God.
"In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, for as long as we both shall live."
"In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, for as long as we both shall live," he repeats softly, and I feel tears well up in my eyes. These are words thousands of people have said thousands of times before us, but it's the most profound experience of my life.
He turns to Ross, and I'm assuming my wedding band exchanges hands. Hurriedly, I pull my hands from Chandler, switching my engagement ring to my right hand. Something else I never thought about. I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment at having forgot something so important on my own wedding day, but Chandler just takes my left hand gently in his, waiting.
"Let this ring be a symbol of our eternal love."
Chandler's fingers tickle my palm and I look up at him. "Let this ring be a symbol of our eternal love," he answers, my own wedding band sliding into place.
We stare at each for a few moments, the enormity of it all starting to sink in. The Justice clears his throat softly and we both look at him. "Monica, do you take Chandler?"
A smile that actually hurts my cheeks spreads across my face. "I do."
"Chandler, do you take Monica?"
"I do," he says, his smile as big as my own.
"Then with the power vested in me by the state of New York and by God, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He bends down, placing a bundle of white cloth at our feet. Chandler grins at me for a second before he stomps on it, the glass cracking under his foot. Tears spill down my cheeks at the gesture—a small but welcome nod to my people.
"Mazel Tov," Ross whispers.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Slowly, he pulls me into his arms, holding me close. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, smiling up at him. "We made it," he whispers.
"We sure did."
His hand gently cups my cheek. "Hi, Mrs. Bing." With that, he kisses me. Our first kiss as husband and wife. I tighten my arms around him and hear the people behind us start to applaud. The instruments start up again.
"Come up for air, you two," I hear Ross say and we pull apart, laughing. We turn and face the small crowd, both of us smiling broadly. Chandler holds out his hands for Abby, who scrambles off Nora's lap and into her father's arms. He pulls her up against his hip and kisses her cheek. I grab her hand and kiss her tiny palm. She grins at us, excited and happy even though she doesn't understand what's going on. I take my husband—husband!—by the arm and we walk back down the short aisle until we get outside.
We pause for a moment, neither of us really sure what to do. "Oh, my God," I say suddenly, clapping my hands over my mouth. "We're married! We did it!" I throw my arms around the two of them, jumping up and down with joy.
He kisses me suddenly, and this feels more like our first married kiss than the one inside. I have no idea how long the ceremony lasted; it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye. I have no idea what's happening now, either—I'm assuming some sort of party. I have my husband and I have my daughter, and that's all that matters.
"You're my wife," he says, sounding shocked. "My wife."
I run my fingers through his short hair, my heart filled with so much love that I don't know if I'll ever have room for more. "And you're my husband." I stand up on tiptoe, kissing him gently.
The barn doors interrupt us, conversations from inside spilling out to us for a brief moment before I hear Phoebe's excited voice. I pull away from my new husband only to be engulfed in a giant hug by my friend. "Congratulations!" she exclaims. "I can't believe it finally happened!"
I chuckle a little, hugging her tighter, watching Nora hug her son. My brother appears a moment later, his eyes just a little red, though his grin is huge.
"My little sister is married. And to this clown, of all people."
I pull out of Phoebe's embrace, giving Ross a gentle shove. "Watch it. That's my husband you're talking about."
He pulls me into a hug, and I'd swear he's crying. "But I'll always be your big brother. And if he ever hurts you…"
"He won't, Ross," I tell him. "He won't."
Chandler puts his hand on my brother's shoulder. "I will never do anything to hurt her. You have my word on that."
"Just…take care of her, all right? She deserves that much."
My eyes fill with tears as his arms fall away. "Ross…"
"No, you do. You deserve someone to treat you right. You've had too much heartache in too short of a time, and I just want you to be happy."
"I am." I look over at my little family, and everything in me fills with love. "I am so happy."
"We'll take care of her." Chandler grins at our daughter. "Won't we, Abb-irific?"
She giggles, burying her face in his neck. "That's not my name, Daddy."
Nora clears her throat and we all look at her. "We need to get inside to set up for the reception. You two—well, three," she corrects herself, tickling Abby's side, "need to go away for a few minutes. We'll come get you when it's ready. And the photographer can take a few pictures of you while you wait."
I can tell that I've been lost in a haze all day because it's only then I realize a man with a camera has been flitting around for hours. I smile at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but Chandler just wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. He kisses me tenderly, and I can hear the camera click. "Chandler," I mumble, ducking my head. Truthfully, I'm not terribly comfortable having my picture taken. Up until I started spending time with Chandler, Ross, and Phoebe, I'd hardly ever been in any photographs, and I think I've taken a total of maybe a dozen that weren't posed since I was a baby, at least until I moved out here. I love all the pictures of Abby, and mostly didn't mind the ones that Nora took of me while I was pregnant. It's just not something I've ever gotten used to.
"Come on, Mrs. Bing," he says as he gives me a little nudge, and excitement rushes through me, the camera forgotten. "Let's take a walk."
"Down, please," Abby asks, and Chandler sets her onto the grass. She starts hopping around us again, grabbing the sides of her dress and waving it back and forth.
"I think our daughter thinks today is about her," I whisper to Chandler and he laughs, coming to a stop.
"Every day is about her." He leans down and kisses me, the world fading away for a few moments. Finally, I look over my shoulder to see the man with the camera behind us, crouched in the grass.
"What is he doing?" I whisper, turning back to Chandler. "I thought they took pictures of the front of people. I don't understand this."
"Look over your shoulder again, please," he calls, and I turn my head tentatively.
"Why?"
"You'll see," he answers, lifting the camera to his eye, and I turn back to Chandler. "No, please! I promise you, this will look amazing." Cautiously, I turn my head again, and my husband presses a kiss to my temple.
"Just relax," he whispers. "Years from now, our grandchildren will be able to see what a happy day this was for us."
I smile a little, my eyes closing in advertently. "Grandchildren? We're still working on baby number two."
"And I plan to double my efforts from here on out." My eyes fly open and I stare at Chandler for a few moments, shocked, before we both break out into laughter.
"I'm going to hold you to that," I answer, and he kisses the tip of my nose.
"Can I swing?" Abby asks, coming to a stop in front of us. I look at Chandler in confusion, but he just releases my waist, grabbing her hand. She holds her other hand out to me, and I try to follow along. He lifts her up by the arm and I copy him, and Abby's laughter echoes across the yard as she kicks her legs, swinging through the air.
I've never been to a party like this in my entire life. The fact that it's all for me and my new husband is just overwhelming.
During the actual ceremony, I didn't pay any attention to what was going on around me, and if Chandler and I hadn't sneaked down to the barn last night, I'd have no way to remember any part of my wedding other than my vows.
But this…Nora's outdone herself. Candles and lights flicker everywhere. Fresh flowers adorn all the tables, and Anita spent most of the last three or four days cooking and baking.
Though it wasn't just Nora; Phoebe played a large part in this, too. She and Nora have been thick as thieves for the last week as they got everything organized and set up for today, and somehow—and she won't tell me how even though I've been asking—she got one of the bands that normally plays at the Moonlight Lounge to play at our wedding reception.
Everyone has gone way above and beyond, and I never expected anything like this, especially not with a week's notice. But, like Chandler said, Nora's been eager to have a wedding here for years, and since it's her son's wedding, it makes sense that she would go all out.
I'm still touched beyond measure, though. Considering that a month ago I truly believed that Chandler might be lost to me forever, this day means more than I could ever express. My family is whole. My brother made it through the war, my daughter is happy and healthy, Phoebe's managed to—not surprisingly—thrive over the last few years, and Chandler…
Chandler.
My husband.
He's really and truly home. I don't know how long it will be before I completely accept that as a fact. I still feel like I'm dreaming most of the time. After everything that has happened, how could it be so simple? How could we have gotten so lucky as to make it work?
Maybe it's been simple because it is simple. It's only complicated if we make it so.
We love each other—simple.
We want to spend our lives together—simple.
We want to have a family—extraordinarily simple, as it turns out.
All we've wanted from the world for years was to be together, and the world finally listened.
Simple.
I watch Chandler on the dance floor, gently swaying with our sleeping daughter.
The poor little thing probably won't even stir until late tomorrow morning. This day has been nothing but excitement for her. Not surprisingly, I couldn't get her to settle down for a nap before the ceremony, but she's been perfect, her energy high all day. She danced with anyone and everyone all afternoon, almost nodded off during dinner, then rallied herself before I could try to put her to bed. She had the energy for a few more dances, mostly with her father, though she danced with both of us a few times, too. Then just like that, she was asleep, unbothered by the noisy band or laughing people around her.
Instead of bringing her inside, Chandler just holds her. Why not? It's a special occasion. We might pay for it tomorrow, but having her with us today makes it worth it.
I feel an arm slide through mine and look over to see Phoebe watching my husband and Abby with a gentle smile on her face. "I can't believe you're married."
I smile, too, returning my gaze to the dance floor. "Finally."
"No, I mean…I still think of you as that seventeen-year-old kid, all wide-eyed and naïve as she tried her hardest to fit in at a low-down joint like the Lounge. I know that you've been through a lot since then, and that you're actually an adult now, but maybe you'll always be seventeen to me. I'll still always want to look out for you." She pauses for a moment, and I peek at her out of the corner of my eye. "I'm sure it seems silly, but even back then, back when you and Chandler first met, I knew there was something special between you two. I could feel it. He may have been a cad and you may have been just a touch holier-than-thou, or at least you tried to be, but you two just sort of…fit."
"Even though I tried like hell to fight it," I say softly, shaking my head at my silly, younger self.
"Watching the two of you fall for each other, watching you fight it for so long and pretend that you were just friends or that your relationship was like brother and sister has been one of the best things in the world. Even though he's older than you and has so much more experience, seeing him change because of you was so sweet, and what the two of you have is so real, so pure, and so innocent in its way. It's what all of us hope to find one day."
"Phoebe," I say softly, tears welling up in my eyes, but she shakes her head, giving my arm a squeeze.
"It's not often that I'm this sentimental, so let me finish." She pauses again, and I can't help but wonder if she's actually going to continue. "The two of you…it's real. Anyone can look at you and know that it's forever. You two are 'happily ever after.' I want to be jealous, but all I can be is happy. You two are perfect for each other, and you're so lucky to have found each other. With everything that's gone on in the world the last few years, and with everything that's still going, to have found somebody to love and to have held onto that for as long as the two you have, despite being separated for years, is truly special."
I wipe my eye carefully, shaking my head at my friend. "It's a good think you're not usually sentimental. I don't think I could take it."
"I'm just happy for you, Monica. You deserve it." She leans the side of her head against mine, sighing happily. "You found your Prince Charming."
"I'm so lucky," I whisper. "After everything…I can't believe he still loves me. I can't believe he still wanted to marry me."
"Monica, he adores you. He always has. And he's smart enough to realize that nothing is as important as what you two have."
"He makes me strong." Phoebe tilts her head, looking at me curiously. "I don't know how I made it the last few years without him. Honestly, if it hadn't been for Abby, I don't know that I would have. I don't feel whole without him. But together…I feel like I can move mountains." I turn, clasping her hands in mine. "But, Phoebe…thank you for everything. Thank you for being my friend and looking out for me. Thank you for taking me in when I needed a home. And thank you for making me realize that being out here was best for me and my baby. You've been just about the best friend I've ever had, and you helped me get through all of this, too." I pull her into my arms, and a few moments later I can feel a few teardrops on my shoulder. "I love you, Phoebe. Thank you for being a sister to me."
She laughs, pushing me toward the dance floor. "Oh, God. Don't be such a sap, Monica." I'd be offended but by the way she refuses to meet my eyes, I know I've touched her. "Go dance with your husband."
I walk onto the floor and the bandleader immediately leads his guys into a slow number. Chandler reaches an arm out for me and I lean into him, resting a hand against our sleeping child, admiring the way my engagement ring sits on top of my new wedding band. We sway gently to the music, and it occurs to me that tonight is the first time our dancing hasn't included skates of some kind.
"Remember the first time you asked me to dance?" I ask suddenly, looking up to see a grin spread across his face.
"You called me a pig."
"And you deserved it," I answer. "You were a pig back then."
"Honey, I'm probably still a pig now. You just love me enough to overlook it."
I rest my head against his chest, listening to him hum along; I know he's just teasing me, but he's not a pig. To me, he's nothing short of the greatest human being to ever walk the planet.
He's given me so much. Being with him helped me grow up. He never pushed me into anything I wasn't ready for; instead, he stood by my side and held my hand, ready to face the world with me, eager to show me all the beauty it can hold. I love him so much it hurts. I actually ache. And I'm so unbearably happy that I don't know what to do with myself most of the time. He did that. He helped me become the person that I am today, and he'll help me become the woman that I want to be in the future.
He gave me a child. Even if she's the only one we ever have, I'm still incredibly lucky. She's the most precious, beautiful creature in the world, and I never knew I could love another person this much so fast. I wouldn't trade her for anything.
I wouldn't change anything that's happened to me. All of it has made us who we are; all the trials and tribulations, all the sadness and strife. All of it is important, and in a way, none of it matters because we found our way back to each other.
"I wandered around and finally found the somebody who…"
I look up again; Chandler's looking off over my head. He probably doesn't even realize he's singing softly.
"Could make me be true, could make me be blue, and even be glad just to be sad thinking of you."
"Some others I've seen," I whisper, and his eyes shift to me. "Might never be mean, might never be cross or try to be boss."
"But they wouldn't do," he finishes, a smile gracing his features, his arm tightening around me.
"For nobody else gave me a thrill…"
"With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you."
He leans down to kiss me, and I answer, "Wonderful you."
"It had to be you," we say at the same time, pressing our foreheads together.
Slowly, we sway to the music.
Together.
*A/N...and then there was one.