The One With The Vision Quests
Chapter One
***
For about the twentieth time in the past ten minutes, Rachel found herself looking at her watch. It wasn't often that she had lunch alone - in fact, she tried to avoid it at all costs - but it had been a half hour since she'd first been seated, and Chandler had yet to arrive.
Ever since her career had taken off - first at Bloomingdale's, and now at Ralph Lauren - she and Chandler had taken advantage of the fact that they worked only a few blocks apart. They had lunch together several times a week, sometimes joined by Monica or Ross - once in awhile by Phoebe or Joey - but usually, since they kept similar schedules, it was just the two of them. And that was fine. They were good friends - comfortable and familiar, after eight years - and it was generally a pleasant interlude in the middle of an otherwise tedious (in Chandler's case) or hectic (in her case) workday. And ever since she'd announced her pregnancy, Chandler had been especially solicitous, sometimes going so far as to meet her outside Ralph Lauren with a taxi - although she suspected Ross might have something to do with that.
But needless to say, Chandler's tardiness today was not only out of character, it was downright unusual.
"Can I get you anything else, ma'am?"
Rachel glanced up to see the young waitress smiling sympathetically down at her. The empty seat across the table and the ice melting in an untouched glass of diet coke with lemon - Chandler's usual drink - suddenly seemed glaringly obvious.
"I'm fine, thanks," she said. She nodded toward the empty seat. "And, uh, he really should be here any minute now. I have no idea what's keeping him."
The waitress continued to smile politely, nodding as she turned and walked back toward the kitchen.
"How embarrassing," Rachel muttered, lifting her napkin from her lap and flinging it onto the table in disgust. "I can't believe I'm eating alone. This is like my worst nightmare." She paused, darting a quick glance at the other patrons, who were thankfully paying her no attention. "And now, of course, I'm talking to myself..."
Why hadn't he just called? It was the 21st century; she was programmed into his Nokia's speed dial, for god's sake.
Maybe she should call him and give him a piece of her mind. Rachel Green did not appreciate being stood up.
Almost as if on cue, her cell phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She jumped slightly, then took it out and flipped it open. "Hello," she said quickly.
"Hey, Rach." Well, instead of one Bing, she'd gotten the other.
"Mon. Hi."
"I hope I'm not disturbing you... you're still at lunch, right?"
"Uh huh," Rachel said grimly.
"Great. Can you put Chandler on for a second, please? I've been trying to reach him but for some reason his cell phone is turned off."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "I'd be glad to put him on, Mon, if he were here."
There was a pause. "He's not there?"
"Nope. Never showed."
Monica hesitated. "Well that's strange," she murmured. "There was no answer at his office, either. Maybe he just got held up somewhere."
"Yeah, I guess," Rachel said, frowning. "I've never known him to turn off his phone before, though."
"Unless he's in a meeting," Monica said.
"True."
Monica sighed. "Look. If he does get there, or if you run into him or anything, could you just tell him to call me? I'm at work."
"Sure, Mon. I'll see you tonight."
"Okay, bye." Monica hung up the phone quickly, and Rachel slowly turned hers off and slipped it back in her pocket. Her friend had sounded calm, but Rachel could tell by the hurried way she hung up that she was worried.
Rachel was pretty sure now that it was nothing. Probably Chandler had just gotten caught in a meeting. And as long as he apologized to her and maybe bought her a little gift - chocolates would be nice - she decided she'd go easy on him for ditching her.
Chapter One
***
For about the twentieth time in the past ten minutes, Rachel found herself looking at her watch. It wasn't often that she had lunch alone - in fact, she tried to avoid it at all costs - but it had been a half hour since she'd first been seated, and Chandler had yet to arrive.
Ever since her career had taken off - first at Bloomingdale's, and now at Ralph Lauren - she and Chandler had taken advantage of the fact that they worked only a few blocks apart. They had lunch together several times a week, sometimes joined by Monica or Ross - once in awhile by Phoebe or Joey - but usually, since they kept similar schedules, it was just the two of them. And that was fine. They were good friends - comfortable and familiar, after eight years - and it was generally a pleasant interlude in the middle of an otherwise tedious (in Chandler's case) or hectic (in her case) workday. And ever since she'd announced her pregnancy, Chandler had been especially solicitous, sometimes going so far as to meet her outside Ralph Lauren with a taxi - although she suspected Ross might have something to do with that.
But needless to say, Chandler's tardiness today was not only out of character, it was downright unusual.
"Can I get you anything else, ma'am?"
Rachel glanced up to see the young waitress smiling sympathetically down at her. The empty seat across the table and the ice melting in an untouched glass of diet coke with lemon - Chandler's usual drink - suddenly seemed glaringly obvious.
"I'm fine, thanks," she said. She nodded toward the empty seat. "And, uh, he really should be here any minute now. I have no idea what's keeping him."
The waitress continued to smile politely, nodding as she turned and walked back toward the kitchen.
"How embarrassing," Rachel muttered, lifting her napkin from her lap and flinging it onto the table in disgust. "I can't believe I'm eating alone. This is like my worst nightmare." She paused, darting a quick glance at the other patrons, who were thankfully paying her no attention. "And now, of course, I'm talking to myself..."
Why hadn't he just called? It was the 21st century; she was programmed into his Nokia's speed dial, for god's sake.
Maybe she should call him and give him a piece of her mind. Rachel Green did not appreciate being stood up.
Almost as if on cue, her cell phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She jumped slightly, then took it out and flipped it open. "Hello," she said quickly.
"Hey, Rach." Well, instead of one Bing, she'd gotten the other.
"Mon. Hi."
"I hope I'm not disturbing you... you're still at lunch, right?"
"Uh huh," Rachel said grimly.
"Great. Can you put Chandler on for a second, please? I've been trying to reach him but for some reason his cell phone is turned off."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "I'd be glad to put him on, Mon, if he were here."
There was a pause. "He's not there?"
"Nope. Never showed."
Monica hesitated. "Well that's strange," she murmured. "There was no answer at his office, either. Maybe he just got held up somewhere."
"Yeah, I guess," Rachel said, frowning. "I've never known him to turn off his phone before, though."
"Unless he's in a meeting," Monica said.
"True."
Monica sighed. "Look. If he does get there, or if you run into him or anything, could you just tell him to call me? I'm at work."
"Sure, Mon. I'll see you tonight."
"Okay, bye." Monica hung up the phone quickly, and Rachel slowly turned hers off and slipped it back in her pocket. Her friend had sounded calm, but Rachel could tell by the hurried way she hung up that she was worried.
Rachel was pretty sure now that it was nothing. Probably Chandler had just gotten caught in a meeting. And as long as he apologized to her and maybe bought her a little gift - chocolates would be nice - she decided she'd go easy on him for ditching her.
