Thicker Than Blood


Growing up, Monica loved Thanksgiving more than any other holiday. Not Christmas, not Hanukkah but Thanksgiving, the all-American holiday. The one holiday in their home without tip-toeing, trying to fit both Jewish and Christian traditions, to satisfy both relatives from her father's side and her mother's side. Thanksgiving was straightforward, it was a celebration of peace and prosperity and above all, good food, her favorite thing in the world.

While the company for Thanksgiving changed and celebrating it with family was no longer an option, the holiday was still dear to her heart. All the more reason as she became the hostess and surrogate-mother to another kind of family.

Monica still had vivid memories of the first Thanksgiving meal she hosted―it had been quite the failure. With the wisdom of entering her forties, there was one lesson life had hammered her with that she had finally accepted: sometimes, there was no success like failure. It was a lesson and a revelation. Thanksgiving wasn't about the turkey, or the parade, or the football games. Sure, it wouldn't be the same without all those things, but Chandler, of all people, reminded them on that first Thanksgiving, that it was a holiday about getting the family together―the one they chose―and being thankful they had each other, at the best of times and the worst of times, about the home they found in each other and the food they shared, whether it was stuffed turkey, any kind of potatoes or grilled cheese sandwiches. The six of them, sitting around the table; the magic was in the simplicity of it all, in celebrating how wonderful their ordinary lives were when they lived them together.

She often reflected on how fitting that her favorite holiday was the one Chandler hated more than anything in the world. It was all very Greek, and appropriate that the first time they met had to be on Thanksgiving. Like some kind of cosmic-ironic game the Gods cooked up to amuse themselves, to see how their personalities would clash on that day. She was a cheerful teenager and he was a moody, aloof young man, she loved to cook Thanksgiving food and he hated eating Thanksgiving food, she had a crush on him and he hurt her feelings like no one else had before. Like a chemical experiment gone awry, the result transformed their relationship into an entirely new substance―from infatuation to the wish to hurt him, then regret and an everlasting friendship born from the whole fiasco.

She knew for all the maturing Chandler went through, he wouldn't openly admit that each year that passed since they had gotten together, his despise for the merriment of the season progressively dissipated―gastronomically, he went from tomato soup and grilled cheese to roast chicken―and how could he not? The holiday was the hallmark of their story and if their relationship had to be encapsulated by one special day, it would be that day. The first time they met, the day she 'branded' him as he often joked now, the first time Those Three Words slipped out of him and the day they were blessed with the news of adoption. With time, he hated it a little less, and she couldn't love it more. The wedge had slowly turned into a bridge of friendship, love, and family.

Monica looked past the car window and basked in the rays of the chill fall sun, breaking out in bursts as they drove through New York. Her thoughts drifted to the memories of all those past Thanksgivings, the smells and the colors made her feel like ten again, when they drove through Long Island for the holidays to visit their grandparents.

She remembered the last time they spent Thanksgiving in the City. A few weeks later, they were on a plane to Ohio in order to meet Erica.

At that thought, she turned her head to Chandler, eyes fixated on the road. He never looked so strong―Chandler might never win a fistfight but it didn't matter, it never mattered. He was a Goliath to her, her rock in hardships, and she loved him all the more for it.

"She wasn't happy you told me, was she?" she said finally.

He glanced at her before his gaze returned to the road, with a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. "I told her she knows you. The reason I had to tell you was the same reason she picked us."

Monica smiled back at him, her hand going to his thigh, squeezing him affectionately. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Of course, Erica knew her. From the first moment they met, Monica had felt an unexplainable bond with her. She had gone as far as to go with the lie born out of a paperwork mistake because she had that gut feeling—Erica was the one, she was carrying their baby. She just knew it. She was never like Phoebe, going with the flow, trusting the wind would take her where she needed to be, with an almost prescient instinct, or even like Rachel, who believed in soulmates and fate. She was too much of a realist, but on that day, it was a vision. Erica was the bearer of their miracle.

They arrived in Manhattan and she thought of her as they passed Times Square, Rockefeller Center, The Empire State Building—places they visited with Erica for her first time in New York and Chandler had been like a child that day. She smiled to herself, maybe it was his trepidation at the idea of becoming a father or simply, dropping his too-cool-for-school persona for a couple of hours and truly enjoying himself.

"Listen," Chandler said, bringing her out of her reveries. "Go easy on her, she's a little lost right now."

"Did you think I was going to yell at her? I just want to help. Did you tell her that I just want to help and nothing else?"

Chandler sighed with a smile. "I did, honey."

"Good," she said. "Oh God, I'm so nervous. I don't think I was this nervous the day we met her."

"It's okay." He clasped her hand with his and kissed her knuckles. "It will be okay."

There was a pause. Monica watched her husband's calm face, and pondered telling him what was on her mind.

He turned to her with a quizzical grin as he slowed down the car at a stop sign, and cut her off. "What are you thinking about, honey?"

She bit her lip at his question. He could read her like an open book. "Just … Thanksgiving memories."

"Blech," Chandler said with a grimace and eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh, come on," she said, cocking her head to the side. "You cannot possibly still hate it."

"I don't," he replied with such a soft voice, it melted her heart.

"You remember our first Thanksgiving? It all started then."

"I do," he said, shaking his head around a laugh. "Sometimes I wish I had a time machine just to slap nineteen-years-old me and tell him to stop being a jerk. I still feel bad that I ever hurt you like that."

"It's okay, honey. I still feel bad about your toe."

"Eh, don't. You were just branding me, you know—"

"Marking my territory," she said before he did, anticipating the end of his sentence. He looked at her lovingly, and she kept her eyes on him. The face she knew so well, sandy hair, blue eyes, deep dimples, and smiled knowingly at him.


Monica's breath hitched the moment Erica stepped into the restaurant. She immediately noticed the subtle distinguishing changes pregnancy has on a woman's body, the baggy shirt she was wearing hiding a bump and her waddling walk. Monica felt a heightened sense of obligation to offer help with anything she might need. Something had shifted at that moment, Erica had always somehow occupied a large space in her brain, she was grateful, but now it was something else. It felt like a debt bigger than ever before. She felt Chandler's hand squeezing hers, making her look at him as he nodded to keep her calm.

She stood up as Erica arrived at their table. Erica glanced around then looked at Monica with a worried expression, and those few moments felt like hours.

Finally, Monica took a step forward, with no greetings needed, she scooped Erica in for a tight hug. She felt her muscles clench at first but then, Erica melted into the embrace, and her head rested on Monica's shoulder as her muscles relaxed.

Monica was the first to back away, she looked at Erica with a smile which she returned.

"How are you?" she asked, glancing at her belly.

"Good."

"Chandler told me the visit to the doctor went well."

"Yes, it did. The baby, she's doing well."

Monica's face lit up. "She?"

"I wanted to find out the sex of the baby. I didn't want what happened last time to happen again. I smartened up!"

Monica turned to Chandler, who was sporting a huge grin. "It's a girl, oh my God!"

"Congratulations," he told Erica.

They all sat at their table, and there was silence again until Chandler spoke up.

"Actually, Erica, we also have some news. We think Jack is gifted. He's pretty smart, both of the twins are," Chandler said, a dreamy look on his face. "I think you got something to do with it."

"Oh. Thank you. Maybe it's their father. I thought Jack might inherit that."

"Well, Eri is actually better at sports than Jack."

She smiled, then her smile faded away. She looked at Monica. "I hope I didn't create problems between you two. Please don't be mad at Chandler."

Monica looked at her husband then sighed blissfully. "I was a little mad at him but it's okay, don't worry."

"She can never stay mad at me for too long."

"It might be true but you don't have to be so smug about it."

They shared a knowing smile and Erica looked at them.

"Wow, you two … you're so great together, I'm so happy the twins are with you," Erica said, looking away as her eyes filled with tears. "Some days, I miss them so much. Some days, I want them back and I know it's impossible and I won't do it or say it. It was too hard moving on … The agency people, they tell you what might happen but nothing really prepares you for this. You know, realizing I would never, ever be their mother."

Monica landed a hand over hers. "Erica, you are their mother, we both are."

"No, I appreciate it. But it's okay. It's something I have learned, I'm still learning to live with. I am grateful to both of you, and the loan … I hope one day I can repay you."

"It's not a loan, Erica," Chandler said with determination. "It's money for our children's sister, and for you, and we're the ones who are grateful. We are the ones who can never repay you. No amount of money is enough for what you did for us. You gave birth to our children, anything we can do to help you, we will do."

"I have something else to tell you."

Her voice was tight. Chandler and Monica looked at each other expectantly.

"Erica and Jack's dad, I .. I've been talking to him for the past few weeks. Chandler, I couldn't say anything until I was sure. He didn't know about the twins, so I told him and we've been working on repairing our relationship. I guess we really bonded."

"So you and Jason … are together?" Monica asked.

"Yes. Jason lives in California. He was playing football in college but he got injured. He's a high school PE teacher in Napa now. He's a really good guy and he wants to be with me and to be here for my daughter."

"You're leaving for California," Chandler said, resigned as the realization hit Monica.

"He has a place, a good job and I could get a job over there. You know, it's early for him but I hope one day, he'd be ready to meet the twins."

"Yeah, we'd like that."

Monica swallowed. "That's great and we're really happy for you, Erica," she paused. "What about the twins? I hoped they could get to know their little sister."

"I will send you pictures. I don't want to promise you anything. Monica, you know how a child changes your life, but … I'll try. Is that ok?"

"It's okay."

They stayed silent a few moments as the news sank in.

"You know, since I am leaving and I don't know when I'll be back … I'd like to say goodbye."


Monica and Chandler always knew they wanted an open adoption. They wanted their kid's biological parents to be part of his or her life. Open adoption was supposed to be the better choice, and in many ways, it was, for all involved. Yet, it was also a choice that laid bare stressful, painful, psychologically taxing situations. The kind that happened in any family, in this case, an extended family of some sort. Her and Chandler were bound together for life with Erica, and to Jason, the twins' father whom Erica hadn't informed of the pregnancy at the time and had left for college, and now he was back in her life, and he was going to raise her daughter while having never met his own children. Maybe he needed time to process the life-changing information, or maybe he'd never want to meet them or look back at that part of his life. It was anyone's guess at this point. This was part of the open adoption package: instability, unpredictability, constantly changing relationships and lives intertwining to create a complex form of family. There were no clean breaks, no simple arrangements.

Erica and Jack were in the backyard, sitting on their little chairs with their birth mother by their side. They were quiet and intrigued and laughing cheerfully at times with her.

Monica felt all kinds of emotions rushing through. Joy and relief at the sight of the twins joyously playing and reacting well to seeing their birth mother for the first time in years, probably the first time they were going to remember for the rest of their lives. She also felt fear, jealousy, and insecurity. Erica looked so much like her daughter and she could see where Jack got his gentle and kind nature. She could see so much of Erica in them the same way she could see herself and Chandler in Andrew.

But it was their moment, their secret garden so she turned away from the window and sat beside Chandler at the kitchen table. He was working on his computer—-to distract himself if she had to guess. He put his glasses over his head and looked at her. "It's going well?"

"I think so. Do you think Jason would want to meet them one day?"

"I honestly don't know."

"It's so strange to think they're together now and they're going to have a child ... And I … Chandler, what if the twins grow up and ask to go live with them?"

"Mon, look at me. They won't. They're our children and we're their parents. They're happy with us, they love us. They adore you."

"But what about when they're teenagers, you know? And they're rebellious and—"

Chandler got up from his chair and hugged her from behind, kissing her hair. "We can't predict anything. Let's not project all these bad thoughts … Our babies are happy and we're happy. Let's work on keeping it this way."

Monica nodded and agreed. Sometimes, she would go into a frenzy and her mind would turn into a pinball machine of worries and anxiety, and a couple of words from Chandler were enough to shut it down.

An hour later, Erica emerged in the kitchen with the twins, sniffling her tears. Jack and Erica went back to play with Andrew in the living room as Erica hugged Chandler and Monica goodbye, gave them a picture of the sonogram, and promised to write and send pictures of her daughter when she'd be born. Monica nodded, and they watched her leave in a cab. And just like that, she was gone. She knew it would be the last time for a long time they'd see her. It was heartbreaking, soul-splitting and relieving.

All part of the adoption package.

The twins were cuddly that night before going to bed, but other than that, it was just another day in their short little lives. They played with Andrew, watched their favorite cartoons and asked for their favorite stories to be read to them with bright eyes.

Monica watched them sleep in their matching superhero pajamas and wondered what they would remember from this day when they grew up.


All eyes were on Phoebe around the table as Chandler was clearing the plates while Monica was putting the final touches to her trademark Thanksgiving pumpkin pie at the kitchen counter.

"So, we were sitting on the pool table, and like, kissing and everything, and the moment Ross pulls me down, all the stupid balls got in the way," Phoebe said, then sharply turned to Chandler. "Chandler, don't!" she added just as his mouth opened. She then paused, shaking her head. "It was really awkward and uncomfortable and we couldn't possibly … go all the way."

"Oh my God!" Rachel said, around an uncontrollable laugh. "I can't believe you almost slept with Ross."

"Hey!" Ross shouted to her. "Shouldn't you be jealous or something instead of finding it so hilarious?"

"I'm sorry, honey. It's just … you're really not Phoebe's type, it's so hard to picture. I don't even get how it happened."

"Well, Carol just told me she was lesbian. I was really sad—"

"No, I mean, Phoebe, how? Why?"

Ross rolled his eyes and Chandler patted him on the shoulder. Monica smiled at the scene and joined them at the table again.

"Oh, I might have had a special muffin or two that day."

"That's really good for my ego," Ross deadpanned.

"The lesson is," Phoebe argued, "two friends sleeping together on a whim is always a bad idea and sex on a pool table is overrated."

"I get what you mean, Pheebs," Monica chimed in, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

Chandler turned to her and frowned his eyebrows. "Erm, hello? We slept together on a whim, in very similar circumstances! You were the Ross!"

"The Geller pity sex thing is very effective," Phoebe whispered to Mike beside her.

Chandler gesticulated at her. "Shh, kids," he said, motioning his head toward the living room where all of their kids were sitting and nodding off in front of the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special on TV.

"It's ok, they're sleepy from all the food and they're more interested in Charlie's adventures than their parents' old sexcapades."

Monica laughed then leaned to squeeze her husband's shoulder. "Chandler, I wasn't talking about the pity sex thing, I was agreeing about pool table sex."

"We never had sex on a pool table—" he trailed off as realization hit him. "Wait, you had sex on a pool table?"

Monica looked over the table, Ross was looking down his plate, crestfallen, and Mike was shifting awkwardly in his chair.

"Well, yeah, I told this story before."

"Um, not to me, you didn't," Chandler said, gesticulating with his head.

"Oh, I guess you weren't there. It was back in culinary school … Do you want to hear about my sexcapades before we got together?"

"Oh, now it's sexcapades?"

"You were there for the entirety of my adult life, you know who I've been with, do we really need to do the whole 'how many guys did you sleep with' … now?"

"It's never too late."

Monica took a deep breath and looked sternly at him. "We have 3 kids!"

Joey laughed smugly. "Jeez, you really were like rabbits before I came into the group."

"Joey, you stripped naked in my apartment the moment we met."

"Your definition of friendship is very strange," Mike said, visibly uncomfortable.

"Sweetie, don't worry. We just thought about it but nothing really happened," Phoebe reassured him. "Except for Chandler and Monica, they really were doing it like rabbits behind our backs. And sometimes in front of us and up against the window."

"Okay!" Ross exclaimed, getting up. "I think it's time for dessert and a change of subject."

Monica smiled at her brother and brought the pie to the table.

"So, are the twins ok with Erica leaving?" Rachel asked, to Ross's relief.

"I think so," Chandler said. "As much as they can understand a complicated situation like that. I think it was good for them to see her though. There's no point in hiding things, and kids are smarter than they seem. Erica was thrilled, really and Jack was fascinated, they know we love them and we only want the best for them. You know, they're the best thing that happened to us with Andy, the least we can do is tell them the truth about where they're from."

Ross's face turned to mush, he hugged Chandler suddenly. "I'm really glad my sister married you, man."

"Joe, are you crying?"

"My boy is all grown up!"

The phone rang at that moment. Chandler stood up and went to pick up while Monica was serving the pies.

"Honey, it's your publicist."

"Jen? Now?"

Suddenly, Chandler's eyes went wide, he walked back to the table with his hand over the phone, and whispered, "do you think it could be about …" he paused and drew a star in the air with his finger.

"No, don't jinx it," Monica told him as he handed her the phone. "Hey Jen, happy Thanksgiving," she said, as all of her friends' eyes were now focused on her.

"Yes, I thought we'd get the call next week. Oh, tomorrow, are you sure?" Monica turned her back, listening intently, then finally turned again to face her friends. "We're getting a Michelin star!" Monica exclaimed then cleared her throat, "I mean, yeah we're getting a Michelin star, whatever," she tried to say in a casual tone.

Chandler and Ross jumped out at the news and Rachel squealed. Phoebe, Joey, and Mike waited expectantly, Monica quickly shushed them with her hand.

"Oh, really? Are you sure, Jen? You're not joking, right? I can't believe this," she continued, in a suddenly solemn tone. "Ok, I'll see you Monday, bye."

She hung up the phone, and a sad, blank expression appeared on her face. She looked up at her friends. "We're not getting a star."

"What?" Chandler said, approaching her, "I don't get it, you just said ..."

Monica, still straight-faced, looked at her husband then at her friends. "We're not getting a star because," she said in a quiet voice, "we're actually getting TWO MICHELIN STARS!"

Chandler's mouth dropped open as Monica jumped up and down. He hugged her and lifted her, twirling her once before lowering her again and Ross, Rachel, Joey, Phoebe, and Mike joined in a group hug.

"Amazing, I knew you'd get it," Chandler said, before kissing her firmly on the lips.

"My sister is a two stars chef! I can't believe it! I still remember when you were a chubby little kid forcing me to eat your baked cookies … " Ross exclaimed, his voice strained until Rachel comforted him with a hug.

"Well, technically the restaurant has the stars, but … You know what, let's leave the false modesty for the interviews, I'm a two-Michelin starred chef!"

"Mommy, what's going on?"

They heard Erica say from the living room in a sleepy voice.

"Oh honey, we woke you up, I'm sorry," Chandler said. "Come here."

Erica walked from the couch to the kitchen toward her father who immediately scooped her up. "Your Mommy just won a big prize for her restaurant."

"What prize? Like a cup or a medal?"

"Yes, she just won two medals for her cooking."

"I love Mommy's food."

"A lot of people agree with you, honey. You want to go back to watch TV?"

"Yeah," she said as Chandler lowered her and she walked to Monica. "Mommy, congratulations, I love you."

Phoebe and Rachel awed at the scene as mother and daughter shared an embrace.

Monica walked Erica back to the couch, kissed her hair and smoothed the blonde strands out of her face. "I love you too honey," she said, before going back to the kitchen where Ross had already opened a bottle of wine.

"Aren't you happy I got you the finest bottle of Israeli wine?"

A minute later, they were all drinking and clinking their glasses in her honor.

Monica looked around her house, at her children half-asleep on the couch in front of the television, at Chandler, so softly covering them with a blanket and making sure they were comfortable, and at her friends, celebrating and excited for her success.

"I love Thanksgiving," she said in a wistful, teary voice when her husband was back by her side.

Chandler smiled, putting down his glass of wine, he leaned to kiss her cheek slowly and nuzzle her hair, and whispered in her ear. "I love Thanksgiving too."


NOTE


Thanks for reading!

There's a (pretty transparent) Mom reference here for anybody who watches that show.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story isn't over. I wanted to explore Erica a little more since she's kind of a second thought on the show (understandably, sitcom and all that) and her being wheeled out into oblivion in the finale was kinda sad-funny. I hope you enjoyed this storyline with her and are satisfied with the outcome for now. There's plenty more to come (hint: the prologue), hopefully, you're still on board. Thank you for all your reviews!