The One With The Bethesda Fountain
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--"Monica?"
The voice familiar, I looked up to see, through blurred vision, the owner.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
I drew in a shaky breath, trying to stop my sobs long enough to speak. "Chandler was just here," I managed to say.
Ross immediately wrapped his arms around me as he sat beside me. "What did he want? What did he say?"
"He was just in the neighborhood. Just getting a cup of coffee," I replied, my tears wetting his shirt. He didn't mind.
"What did he say?" Ross asked again, firmly.
"Nothing," my voice quivered slightly, "Just small talk, really."
"So, then, why are you all hysterical?"
I groaned and pulled away from his comfort. "I'm not hysterical, Ross. I'm fine, I'm just--"
"Oh, please, Monica, you're not fine," he scolded. "You have been like this ever since he left. Six months is long enough, alright? You need to get over him."
"Hey, yeah, there's an idea!" I shot back sarcastically, wiping at my tears, "Why didn't I think of that?!" My brother… I love him, but God can he be dense. If it were that easy, wouldn't it stand to reason that I would've done it by now? Or, maybe he thinks I like being a basket case.
"Look, I know it's not as easy as that, but six months, Monica! Six months!"
He sighed, and I could tell he was exasperated with me.
"Look, Ross, I know you're just trying to be a good big brother here, but, just, stop it."
"Stop it?" he asked, "Stop being your big brother?"
I rolled my eyes… he takes things too literally at times. "You know what I mean, Ross. Just, stop trying to fix me."
"From where I'm sitting, it looks like you need fixing."
"Maybe I do," I told him, "But, you can't fix me. Only one person can fix me."
"A psychiatrist?" he offered.
"No," I shot back. "Chandler."
"But you know that's not going to happen, right?" He spoke to me like he would Ben. Like I was a child, and it made me want to smack him.
"I don't know what I know anymore," I muttered, "Except, that I still love him." I looked up and into my brother's concerned eyes, "I've tried, but I can't get over him."
"No, Monica, you haven't tried. You've moped around feeling sorry for yourself. Dwelling on the past. Moreso than when you and Richard broke up."
"I miss him, Ross," I admitted sadly, the tears starting all over again.
He scowled as if confused. "Richard?"
"No, Ross. Chandler," I clarified. "I miss Chandler."
He gathered me into his arms again in an attempt to comfort me, but all I really wanted was to be in Chandler's arms. When I saw him standing there, for a fleeting moment I thought, just maybe. Maybe he was coming back to say the words I so badly wanted to hear, ever since he left: 'I made a mistake, and I still love you.'
"He's never coming back, is he?" I asked my brother as I cried into his chest."
"No, Mon, he's not," was his solemn reply, and the tone of his voice made me cry even harder.
Suddenly, I felt him jerk and pull back, and I looked into his face for an explanation as to why. Intently, he was looking past me, his expression hard to read, and I turned to follow his stare.
"Chandler." I heard my brother say his name, I saw him standing near the door, but I still thought it was a figment of my imagination.
"Hello, Ross," Chandler almost whispered, then his eyes moved to me.
I felt instantly ill, the sight of him again too powerful for my delicate frame of mind and emotions.
I was vaguely aware that Ross was looking back and forth between the two of us, but neither Chandler nor I looked away from each other. Our eyes locked.
"You're crying," Chandler noticed as he approached, and he seemed to be struggling with something to say, but no words came out.
I just nodded. To hell with being strong. To hell with pride and dignity. I had to tell him. Tell him I still love him. Because try as I might, I can't get him out of my soul.
But wait. Why did he come back?
"Monica?" Ross' voice broke through my haze, and I turned finally to look at him. "Should I--?" He gestured towards the door, his unfinished question clear… he wanted to know if he should stay or go.
I nodded. "I'll be fine," I told him, hoping I sounded convincing, and he nodded before standing.
"Alright. I'll see'ya later then." He walked up to Chandler, but only stopped for a moment, giving him an up-nod before walking out the door.
Chandler looked at me for several seconds before finally speaking. "Can we… go to the park maybe and talk?"
I nodded as I stood, my legs feeling like rubber. "Alright."
--We walked in total silence, and even though it was an uncomfortable silence, it was as comfortable as I'd been within the last six months. We hit the park, and began down a path I had walked a million times before.
When we were still together, we walked this path a million times after getting coffee at the coffeehouse. It was our special alone time, without the gang with us. We would leave our work or whatever else behind and it would just be our time, to hold hands, hold each other close, people watch as the sun set.
After he left me, I traveled down this very path almost every day, and the familiar scenery brought back bittersweet memories for me. I cried so many times as I headed for our favorite spot by the Bethesda Fountain, my tears getting lost in the cold water as I stared at the angel perched high atop the fountain and made wish after wish for him to come back to me.
Now he was here, and I don't know why. I don't dare assume he wants me back. If he doesn't, I don't think I could recover. Maybe one of the gang told him I was losing it. Joey talks to him every week or so, maybe he told Chandler I was mental and to come talk to me or something.
God, please don't let that be it. I don't think I could take it if I saw pity in his eyes, directed at me. I mean, I am pitiful, but I don't think I could handle it if he pitied me.
"Nice day today," he broke the silence, "Weather-wise."
"Yeah," I agreed, knowing I probably should've elaborated or something, but, I didn't know what to say. I knew what I wanted but was scared to say, but I didn't know how to make small talk.
His pace slowed when the fountain came into view, and I looked at him, almost tripping over my own feet as I watched his expression for some sign of what he was thinking… or feeling.
"The last time I was here was with you. Six months ago. Two days before… I left."
I nodded. "I come here almost every day."
He stopped in his tracks and looked at me with haunting eyes, "Why?"
I shrugged, then started walking towards the fountain again. God, why didn't I tell him?! It was the perfect opening! Because it was our spot, I should've said. Because, I thought, I hoped, that if I came here every day and wished upon a coin, then tossed it in, that maybe, you'd come back to me.
But I didn't say anything. I just shrugged and walked away from him, towards the fountain. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. When I reached the fountain's edge, I turned to see him walking towards me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast.
I sat on the cold stone ledge, and he joined me seconds later, his body slightly to one side as he watched the water flow, and stared up at the angel as if trying to decide something.
"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked softly, unsure of my own voice, unsure if I really wanted to have the conversation that was about to take place.
He nodded, flicking at the water briefly before wiping his hand on his pants and facing me.
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you…"
TO BE CONTINUED…
