Accident of Birth
Chandler balanced himself in his chair as he looked over the window at the reflection of his company's building into the building facing them. One of the levels, uncharacteristically for an office on Madison Avenue, didn't have one-way glass windows and he could see through it. A meeting was being held in one of the spaces, which was ironic given his agency was doing the very same thing, doing what the advertising business seemed to do best: they were having a meeting.
This time with the Hershey's executives, the agency's most difficult client by everyone's admission, and more importantly, their biggest client. In the times of recession and companies taking their business in-house, if Hershey's wanted an impromptu meeting, they would get it.
In his previous career, Chandler remembered that meetings were mostly self-congratulatory and he cringed at the memory of good trimester numbers being rewarded by a slap on his backside. In the advertising business, however, people loved meetings, and meetings were never for making decisions, lack of progress in meeting one would be reviewed in meeting two, three, five until final one—before the big pitch or the big presentation, the cycle repeating itself with each campaign.
Chandler tried to focus on the presentation: A new product, a new strategy, something about Valentine's Day and becoming the chocolate of the holiday.
But all he could think about was Monica.
He kept thinking about how he would do anything to keep her happy, to keep any hurt from coming to her, or to their children. He would do anything for those four people who gave him a shot at the happiness he never thought would come his way.
This was the reason he couldn't really focus on what the consumer behavior scientist was telling them about Valentine's Day and focus groups.
Maybe he shouldn't have sent that email to Erica on the day the twins started school. The moment her response arrived in his inbox kept replaying in his mind, anxiety creeping up on him once again.
He had read it again and again until he memorized every word. Her apology to disappearing on them, "seeing the twins was too hard for me," her begging him not to tell Monica and finally, her announcement, "I'll be in New York next week and I'd like to see you. It's important, please call me."
It wasn't how he envisioned getting in touch again with the birth mother to his twins.
The next few days after The Email, he thought about whether to call her or not, he went back and forth, and every time he saw Monica, guilt shot through him.
He hated lying to her, even innocent white lies were hard for him to keep away from her. They were married for eight years, they had known each other for twenty years and he strongly believed no two people knew each other as well as they did, and that meant they could read the other pretty well.
When he lied about doing the dishes while she was at the restaurant, she would say she believed him over the phone but he knew that she knew the truth and she was letting it slide. Those were the implicit rules of marriage, but keeping something so big from her was never an instance in their relationship. All the way back to when they were friends, they trusted each other like two soldiers who fought together and always had each other's back.
Not telling her was killing him inside.
A couple of days later after the email, they had talked to the twins about how they were adopted, and Erica asked where their birth mother was, the twins couldn't remember her, and his heart broke.
It wasn't about him or Monica anymore. If his children wanted to see their biological mother, and she contacted them, there could be a chance to make that happen.
So he called the day after.
"I'll be in Manhattan on Friday, I'd rather tell you in person," Erica had said in a brief phone call.
It was Friday and he was anxiously waiting for that phone call or text message to give the details of where they would meet.
The meeting with Hershey's was deemed satisfying by everybody in the room as they agreed—inevitably—to schedule another meeting to pitch the campaign.
It wasn't enough to take off his mind from the Erica situation. Was it a situation? It could be nothing, it could be good news, perhaps she wanted to set up a meeting with the twins and Monica, and they would be back on regular updates and even visits.
Yet, he couldn't help but imagine the worst-case scenario.
The nightmare that had kept Monica up several nights after the birth of the twins while they were settling in their new home. It was a fear that started the moment they met Erica, what if she changed her mind? What if she regretted her decision? It persisted until the adoption papers were finalized, then dissipated a little until Monica had those nightmares in which Erica would knock on their door, one day, and ask for the twins back, and threaten to sue them if need be.
He did share her concerns during the adoption process. Erica was a teenager, although they made everything in their power so that she wouldn't feel pressured, she changed her mind once, thanks to his plea, and it always scared him that she could change it again.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he came back to his office. Erica and Jack were theirs, it would be so unfair and life had been cruel enough to them before the twins.
He felt a slight vibration from the phone in his jacket, and pressed view.
It was from Erica.
• • • I'm near the Empire State Building, at that place we went to with Monica, remember?
Of course, Chandler remembered.
He sighed, and texted back that he was on his way.
Erica was sitting at the back of the restaurant as Chandler entered, she waved at him with a forced smile. She hadn't changed much from the last time they saw her, he noted. Young, innocent and a little lost. He sat in front of her and he immediately felt the tension charge up in the air. She looked nervy, clenching her hands with her knuckles straining at her pale skin.
"I know you wonder why I am disrupting your life like this," she finally said after a few moments.
Chandler frowned his eyebrows, slightly alarmed. "What?"
"You didn't seem too happy on the phone and I get it. I disappear for two years then call you out of nowhere―"
"No, Erica. It's not about that," Chandler responded, he took a deep breath and straightened his tie, realizing he was just as nervy. "I don't like lying to Monica and I still don't understand why she isn't there with me, because she should be."
"I know," Erica admitted in a resigned tone. "Please believe me that I have no intention to hurt you guys," she looked at him and inhaled, tears rising to her eyes.
"Is it the twins? Do you want them back?" Chandler asked as he eyed her carefully, dreading her answer.
"No," she said before breaking down, her hands over her head.
"Hey," Chandler said cautiously. "Is everything ok?"
For a few moments, Erica just stared into space before summoning the courage to look at him again. "I'm pregnant."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"You want us to adopt it?" Chandler suddenly blurted out and regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth.
"No!" She erupted. "I want to keep it."
Chandler nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little …" he trailed off, passing a hand through his hair and she gave him an understanding smile.
"The father of the baby isn't a good person, he lives in Ohio and our relationship wasn't … great. I had to get away from that place, so I came here. I don't know a lot of people in New York. You and Monica were always so nice to me …"
Chandler cut her off. "Then why don't you want her to know?"
"Because!" Erica exclaimed then paused to catch her breath. "Because she must think I'm a monster! She was so nice to me, and I stopped giving you news and you were sending all those pictures …"
"We thought you might change your mind."
"I know, I don't blame you. I just―the last time I saw the twins, it was too hard. You two are wonderful parents and I'm so happy they get to grow up in a loving home. Jack is so cute and Erica looks so much like me ... Each time, I missed them more and it hurts too much. I have to live with this decision all my life, and … I didn't know how to handle seeing them."
Tears were running down her cheeks now as she tried to hold them back. Chandler's jaw tightened and he reached out with his hand on her arm.
"I'm sorry."
Erica shook her head, she took out a tissue from her handbag and wiped her nose roughly with it.
They sat in silence for a while then Chandler spoke up, "If you need help to rebuild your life and take care of the baby I will do anything I can," he said, in a determined tone. "This baby is Jack's and Erica's brother or sister, of course, we'll always be here for you. Both of you."
Erica exhaled and smiled genuinely for the first time.
Chandler parked the car outside of Pelham's elementary school and waited outside to pick up the twins. He looked at his watch just when the alarm ringed. A few seconds later, kids were charging out of their classrooms. Erica and Jack sauntered out of the classroom, their arms linked, and ran toward Chandler.
"Ouch," grunted Chandler as the twins rammed his stomach and hugged him. "You missed Daddy, didn't you?"
"I missed you the most!" Jack exclaimed.
"No, I missed you the mostest," Erica said, making her father laugh.
"I missed you too, little peanuts."
He looked up and saw their teacher calling him out. He walked to her and she motioned for them to follow her in one of their classrooms. Chandler asked Jack and Erica to go play in the back of the class.
"Mr. Bing, I wanted to have a little chat about the twins."
His eyebrows shot up.
"Oh, it's not serious. I mean, it's a little serious but not bad news. The twins are doing well, they're wonderful kids."
Chandler relaxed and smiled.
"Well, Erica is a very active, sociable kid," the teacher continued. "She participates a lot, loves to draw and sing and tell stories."
Chandler grinned and looked proudly over his daughter. "She's a star."
"She's a very competitive little girl."
He laughed. "Can I blame her mother for that?"
"It's not a bad quality per se, but she's a little stubborn."
"We're working on that. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that her first word was no," he quipped again but the teacher wasn't really laughing. He racked his throat to adopt a more serious tone. "Is Jack doing well too?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about actually. Jack gets bored very quickly."
"Huh," Chandler paused. "Really? When he comes home, all he talks about is school."
"It's not my place to say, but I think you should learn more about the school's programs." She handed him a brochure. "The school has tests for kindergarten kids to enter the advanced learning program. I don't know if Jack is gifted, but I think you should have the test."
Chandler frowned and laughed a little nervously. "Tested? They're not even in the first grade. What do they do in advanced learning? Classes about Alphabet 102, Level Two Crayons―"
"I got it," the teacher interrupted what looked like a long list of bad jokes. "Mr. Bing, this is my recommendation but I understand if you're against the idea."
"No, no. Thank you for telling me. I'll discuss it with my wife."
Chandler looked at Jack who was meticulously placing pieces of Legos on what looked like a castle, while Erica was coloring.
Jack was smart, he had no doubt about that, but Chandler thought he had passed his nerdy quirks along to him and never questioned it beyond that.
On his way home, he stopped by the store to pick up party supplies for Andrew's upcoming birthday party. As he was driving, he kept stealing glances at Jack over the rearview mirror and smiling to himself. He had to admit, he was a wickedly smart little boy, Erica amazed and charmed anyone who met her and Andrew … Andrew was now three and the sweetest of them all. Chandler could see Monica in his bone structure but saw himself in his eyes, and it amazed him the blend of history, of influences from generations ago, forgotten but saved in DNA to confer height or blue eyes or a sense of humor. It was a special fascination with Andrew. His smile touched him to the core, the one that made him think of his birth and his mother, the first time he kissed his little wet head then looked up into Monica's eyes and felt that nameless connection nothing could explain or express sufficiently.
Andrew would grow up one day, and leave them and life permitting, have his own family, not remembering anything from his first three years on earth, but that connection, that love … nothing would take that away from them; that was in their bones.
It was the bittersweet feat of parenting, all you could do was give your children the best eighteen years of your life, years which will end up ultimately compressed in a couple of lines in their life story. For the first time in a long time, Chandler thought about his own parents and whether they went through the same feelings of nostalgia and pain with him.
The day of Andrew's birthday party dawned bright and fair, benefitting from October's loveliest fall weather. Andrew shared his birthday with his uncle Ross, as such the celebration was doubled. They held dinner for Ross on the eighteenth, and the weekend after Monica would go all-in for her son's sole dedicated party, requiring the presence of neighborhood friends and family, securing the services of the most sought after entertainer in Westchester, and baking a giant birthday cake she would prepare all week to go along with the party's theme.
Royal weddings were a modest affair in comparison.
Chandler never really understood the universal enthusiasm for birthdays. Over the years, he watched his friends eagerly celebrate birthdays, organizing them, buying gifts, and he mostly went with it.
They would feel sad over growing old. He didn't care as much about the passing of time. When he was a kid, he couldn't wait to grow up and free himself of his parents, of his boarding school bullies, of the dorms of NYU, and he enjoyed birthdays with his friends, maybe more than anyone else. While they were chasing jobs, love or fame and prestige in their twenties, he was satisfied with having friends he loved and loved him.
In fact, he barely brought up his birthday at all with them, to the point there were years they had to improvise his birthday parties at the last minute.
Parenthood changed a person though, and his children's birthdays were never ordinary days.
On those days, their eyes had to shine brighter than ever.
The party was going seamlessly, from the candles blowing followed by the unwrapping of gifts, rounds of charades and karaoke. Guests came and left from the neighborhood, the house was bursting with the sounds of kids running and laughing and the discussions of adults.
Chandler smiled when Monica got emotional as Andrew stood on the chair and blew the three little greasy candles. He felt his throat tighten as she returned his smile and nodded reassuringly, sharing the turmoil of emotions they were going through.
He wanted to spend this day enjoying his family, instead, he felt he was carrying the weight of the world and it was crushing him. Later at the party, he found Joey alone outside and joined him. He had to talk to somebody, someone he could trust almost as much as his wife. "Hey Joe, you have a minute?" he asked his friend from the porch.
"Yeah, what's up?" Joey replied, not looking up as he was working his double piece of cake.
"Can we talk somewhere private?"
Joey's eyebrows frowned then he smiled a huge grin. "If it's about the porn on your computer, it wasn't me and no, I don't know your password."
"You what? —just come here," Chandler said, gesticulating to him. Joey groaned at the interruption of his cake eating and joined him on the porch.
Chandler paused, taking a breath. "I need to talk about something that's been weighing me down but Monica can't know."
Joey's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, are you going to tell me you're gay?"
"No!"
"Ok, then what is it? Oh wait, I can't keep your secret," Joey said very seriously.
"Come on, Joey. I could really use some good advice here."
"Good advice? Me?" He paused. "Why don't you go to Ross?"
"He might not react well."
"Ok, you're scaring me."
Chandler breathed deeply again. Getting out words was torture. "Erica called me."
"So?"
"Not my daughter. Erica, their birth mother."
"Oh, makes sense. Wait, didn't she disappear for like two years?"
Chandler turned away and started pacing. "Yes. She sent me an email and I met with her, but she asked me not to tell Monica. She's … pregnant."
"With your baby?"
Chandler stared at him in disbelief. "Joey! Of course not. Some guy back in Ohio, but she ran away from him and she's staying at a hotel in New York."
"Oh, what are you going to do?"
"I'm trying to help her, but I don't know what to do. She doesn't want me to tell Monica because she's not ready to see the twins again."
Joey put down the cake and crossed his arms, as if he had all the answers. "Chandler, I think you know why you came to me."
"What do you mean?"
"You know me very well. I don't like secrets, because secrets hurt people. I know you don't want to hurt Monica, but keeping it from her would hurt her more."
He was right, as Joey often was about these things. What people would mistake for simplicity was to Chandler a sign of candor and the strongest moral compass he ever witnessed in a person.
"Yeah. It's just … she already thinks she did something wrong when Erica disappeared … But you're right."
"Of course I'm right. I'm always right about these things."
He chuckled. "Ok Joey, I'm the married guy here and you're the one about to get a divorce."
"Cheap shot, man."
"Sorry, I'm a little tense," Chandler offered an apologetic smile. "How are things with Alex?"
"It's ok. We're trying to be mature about this. She signed the papers and is sending them to my lawyer."
"I'm really sorry about that. I really thought you guys would make it."
"Me too, but you know, we're still friends, and I can spend more time in New York now. My career is going well," replied Joey. "Silver linings, man."
Chandler couldn't help a grin. "Dude, you've really grown. I'm so proud of you."
Joey returned his smile, they looked at each other and nodded then they hugged like old times.
"And I know about the porn. Thanks for that," Chandler deadpanned.
"You're welcome!"
While Monica was upstairs enjoying a well-deserved wrapping paper ironing after-party of her own, Chandler stayed downstairs to entertain the kids and manage their sugar crash in the living room. They looked tired and sad the party was over, and he knew exactly what they needed to cheer them up.
"Let's make a blanket fort," he suggested. Blanket forts were one of their favorite indoor pastimes.
"Yeah!" the twins yelled in unison, as they scattered with Andrew to pull blankets and comforters out of closets and off beds.
When Monica came back downstairs, Chandler just crawled out of the fort, a party hat over his head, blowing a noisemaker. He immediately recognized the shuddering look of shock on her face.
"What's going on here?" she asked.
Chandler looked at her sheepishly. "We are having a little private birthday party for Andy."
"Chandler …"
"And we'll clean up when we finish, right, guys?" Chandler reassured as the twins came out of the fort. They shrugged noncommittally at their dad. "Right, guys?"
"Okay," they replied dejectedly.
"Come on, Mon. You don't want to be the party pooper, do you?" he said, sensing her stance was weakening as Andrew joined the twins. They were wearing their fluffiest pajamas, with different hats: a king crown for the birthday boy, a tiara for Erica and a cowboy hat for Jack. Almost too cute to bear, Chandler knew he was winning this one.
"Mommy, don't be a pooper," Andrew said in his small voice. Chandler laughed and Monica smirked.
"That's my guy," Chandler said around his laugh, kissing the top of his son's head.
"The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree," Monica joked, as she resigned herself, putting an alien headband party hat and joining them inside the fort. Chandler twisted with joy behind her back and she turned to glare at him. "I'm doing this for the kids."
"Sure," Chandler replied.
Andrew was, as usual, holding on tightly to Kenny The Kangaroo, then Jack suddenly took away the stuffed animal from his brother's hands, and started crawling further inside the fort. Andrew, shell-shocked by the provoking act of war, started crying.
"Don't worry, Andy, I'll catch Jack!" Erica said, kissing him on one cheek before chasing after her twin brother on her hands and knees.
Chandler just shrugged his shoulders at Monica's horrified look.
"You have created a war zone," she told him in a reproachful tone.
"Then I better catch them."
Chandler went after his kids while Monica was holding Andrew, trying to comfort him.
When he caught the twins, Jack was holding Kenny The Kangaroo captive, while Erica was holding a pillow, ready to retaliate.
"Jack, give Kenny back!" she yelled at her brother.
Jack pondered her demand with a mischievous grin. "No. I'm keeping him."
"Guys, no fighting! Or you'll be grounded for a week," they heard Monica tell them.
Chandler, sensing things could get out of hand quickly and devolve into a full-blown humanitarian crisis, knew it was time to step up with a peace process. "Jack, if you give Kenny back to Andy," he said carefully, "and Erica, you put down that pillow, there will be no grounding."
The twins exchanged tense looks at each other, Jack slowly walked towards Andrew handing Kenny to him, the scene playing out like a Western duel and just as Monica was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Erica flung her pillow at her father.
Chandler looked outraged. "Oh, princess, you want to play that game?"
Erica couldn't stop laughing, her father came to her and started tickling her—somehow inspired by their sister, Jack and Andrew threw pillows at their mother, weakly and harmlessly. Monica followed Chandler's example and started tickling them too. The kids' laughs resounded around the room and the blanket fort's foundations were threatening to give up under so much agitation.
Monica and Chandler laughed with their kids until they were interrupted by a phone ring. Chandler stopped and looked for his phone, recognizing his ringtone. The phone had dropped from his pocket while they were playing with the kids. He looked for it then saw it was near Monica. His wife was about to pick up the phone, and taken by a rush of worry, he almost jumped out and reached for it before she could.
She frowned her eyebrows at him, and he mouthed "work" before standing up and leaving the living room to answer the call outside.
NOTE
Apologies for the late update. The next one should be sooner hopefully.
Thank you for the reading and all the reviews! Also, please validate me and keep them coming.
