Chapter 9
Two days later after a very emotional sendoff, Chandler arrived at his new apartment. Unsure what to expect, he found himself plesantly surprised at his new environment. The apartment complex was located in a rather rustic area. It was far enough off the main road that he couldn't hear the traffic and yet close enough that the bay window in his living room provided him with a nice view of the skyline.
The furnished one-bedroom suited his needs. The kitchen was small and compact, but it included a dishwasher. The bed looked comfortable, he had enough closet and drawer space, and the living room had a sofa, coffee table, two easy chairs and a 25-inch television.
The New York office had given him a company car to use in Bridgeport, so he'd been able to bring most of what he'd wanted. He spent the day unpacking and arranging his belongings and getting familiar with his surroundings.
Earlier, he'd found the local yellow pages, so when evening approached, he called to order a pizza.
With the help of the TV, he made it through his first evening. If he disregarded how many times he thought about his friends sitting in Central Perk talking about their lives, then he had to consider his first day in Connecticut a success.
*~*
The next few days flew by as Chandler acquainted himself with his staff and with the scope of the project he'd been assigned to facilitate. He arrived early and stayed late, trying to get a plan of action in place. By the time he arrived home late Friday night, all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for 24 hours.
He stopped to check his mailbox, even though he'd only had one or two pieces since he'd given the Post Office his forwarding address, and when he saw the writing on a neatly wrapped pacakge, he knew Monica had sent him something. With adrenaline now surging through him, he told himself that sleep could wait. He had a package from Monica to open.
He settled himself on the sofa and then opened the box from Monica. He smiled when he saw what she had so thoughtfully sent to him. Packed tightly with newspapers, the box contained two carefully bubble-wrapped frames, one gold and one silver, and one small tin can. Monica had taped a note to the top. "Bet you can't guess what this is!"
"I bet I can," Chandler said out loud, after setting the frames on the coffee table.
He pulled the can from the box and removed the lid, fully expecting to see chocolate chip cookies. Instead there was another handwritten note, complete with a goofy face, from Monica. "Ha! Fooled you, Chandler Bing!"
Chandler had to laugh as he pulled out a plastic package of peanut butter cookies. At the bottom of the tin was a folded up note, which he immediately opened and read. "I don't want to spoil you," she'd written, "by always giving you what you expect. And I definitely don't want you taking me for granted. See, I did listen to you, Chandler, and I did learn something about you. And about myself." She'd signed the note "With Love, Monica".
He set the cookies and the tin can on the table and then carefully lifted one of the frames. He removed the bubble wrap and saw that she had framed a 5"x7" photo of the six of them taken at Central Perk by Gunther on Chandler's last night. The second frame, a silver one, was a picture of the two of them taken last Christmas in Monica's apartment. He'd forgotten they had posed with Monica sitting on his lap. He had to admit they'd both looked very happy.
Taped to the bubble wrap was another note.
"Not that I'm telling what to do," she had written, "but now, I'm being selfish. I hope you'll put the photo of the two of us wherever you spend the majority of your time. I miss you, Chandler, and I think about you all the time."
"I think about you, too," he told her picture. "And now that I have this lovely reminder, I'll think about you and miss you even more."
He placed the two photos on the coffee table, for the time being, and saw he had another piece of mail from New York City. This one was from Ross and Rachel, and it was his invitation to their engagement party which was going to be held four weeks from Saturday at a country club in upstate New York. Chandler checked the box on the reply card that said he would be attending. Where it asked for number of guests, he wrote "1".
Such a lonely number, he thought somberly.
His eyes traveled to the picture of Monica and him. If anyone who didn't know them were to see that photo, he was sure they would be viewed as a couple. And a happy one, too. But you're not, he reminded himself, so forget about it.
But he couldn't. His fingers itched to pick up the phone and call Monica. He forced himself not to. It was too soon, and he was still too weak. If he heard her voice, he might end up spending the weekend in a certain apartment in Greenwich Village.
Would that be so bad, he asked himself.
The stronger part of him, the one that had made this decision in the first place, finally asserted itself and told him he needed more time. He would write a letter to Monica instead of calling her.
Yeah, like I've ever done that before. But for Monica, he knew he would.
*~*
Monica was still awake when Rachel walked into the apartment.
"Hey, how did it go with your parents? Did you and Ross get a lot of the wedding plans figured out?"
"Yeah, we did," Rachel said, taking a seat at the table after grabbing a bottled water from the refrigerator. "How does a Christmas wedding sound?"
"Sounds romantic," Monica said wistfully.
"We think so, too. I want it to be in the evening, with lots of candles and flowers, and I want the bridal party's color to be a winter one. I can't wait for us to go to the bridal show tomorrow. I think I'm really going to get a lot of good ideas."
"I'm sure you will. Phoebe and I are looking forward to going with you. I'm so thrilled for you, Rach. I've never seen you look happier."
"I've never been happier," she confessed and then stifled a yawn. It had been a busy day to top off a very hectic week. "How come you're up so late? We have a full day ahead of us tomorrow."
"I know. I'll be ready to go tomorrow, but tonight, I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe Chandler might call. I'm hoping he got my package today."
"He may not have gotten it. But even if he did, he might not be ready to call you, honey. Maybe you'll get a letter from him or maybe you'll hear from him over the weekend or next week."
"Why, just when things are going great for you and things seem to be looking up for Phoebe, did my life have to fall apart? I wish I didn't miss him so much, but I do. I'm going to be dateless for your engagement party, and I'm probably going to be dateless for your wedding, too. Man, this sucks."
"Mon, honey, Chandler's going to be at the engagement party and the wedding. He said he would be there. He agreed to be Ross' best man, and you're my maid of honor. You guys will still be able to hang out together."
"But it won't be the same because that's not what he wants. I know this is exactly what he was talking about, and to a point, I agree with him. We never challenged each other beyond our friendship. I guess we were both too afraid if we got together and it didn't work out, we'd have nothing left."
"Give him a little more time, Mon. I refuse to believe he's not missing you as much, if not more, than you're missing him. One day soon, he is going to realize he left behind an amazing woman, and he's going to come back. For you."
*~*
Monica, Rachel and Phoebe walked into Central Perk early Saturday evening and met up with Ross and Joey. Rachel and Ross shared a kiss, as did Phoebe and Joey. Monica walked to the counter and ordered coffee for the three women from Gunther. By the time she had taken a seat on the sofa, the talk had turned to the day's events.
"The bridal fair was great," Rachel said enthusiastically. "You'll be pleased with me, Ross. I made a lot of decisions. Monica and Phoebe are going to be in maroon-colored dresses. I got lots of ideas for my wedding dress, but I haven't made my final decision. I will soon, though. I also have lots of samples of wedding invitation designs to look through and business cards from photographers and DJs. The flowers are going to be red roses, white pompons, and red and white carnations. Next weekend, we're going to see if we can find Monica's and Phoebe's dresses. So, what did you guys do today?"
Joey and Ross exchanged guilty looks.
"Not much," Ross admitted. "But your day sounds fantastic and very productive."
"It was. It really was. I'm having so much fun planning this wedding."
"It shows," Joey said. "So, what's everyone doing tonight?"
They all looked at each other; no one seemed to have any pressing plans.
"I'm going upstairs as soon as I finish my coffee," Monica said. "You guys are welcome to come with me. We can order Chinese if you want."
"Okay. Sure. Sounds good."
With everyone in agreement, Monica led the way. She could've cared less about eating Chinese food; all she wanted to do was to check her answering machine. As she entered her apartment, she kept her fingers crossed that there would be a message from Chandler, but to her bitter disappointment, her message waiting light was not flashing.
*~*
The weekend came and went without Monica hearing from Chandler. By the time she returned to work on Monday, her mood had soured quite considerably. She kept telling herself he hadn't received her package, but deep down, she knew he had and that her not hearing from him meant he planned to keep his distance.
"Hey, Monica," Eric, the headwaiter of the lunch crew, said as he entered the kitchen, "I heard from Ilene that Chandler's not living across the hall from you anymore. What happened?"
So much for taking her assistant chef into her confidence, Monica silently fumed.
"Nothing. He's temporarily relocated because of his job. That's all. He'll be back."
"Well, with him out of the way, maybe now a guy can have a chance."
"What are you talking about? Chandler's a friend, nothing more."
"Yeah, right."
Eric's hazel eyes dared Monica to tell him he was wrong.
"I don't know what you thought," she said, vigorously stirring the pot of soup on the stove, "but I am free to date whoever I want and I always have been."
"Well, then, how about going out with me?"
"Okay," she said, before she'd thought it through. "When would you like to go out?"
"How about tonight? We could get a drink after work."
"All right. That sounds nice."
No, it didn't. It sounded horrible. But what was she going to do? Chandler was finding a new way to live his life. She had to find a way to get on with hers, too. She knew she could do a lot worse than Eric, with his light brown hair, athletic build and charming smile. But she knew, as sure as she knew that at least one of the patrons in the restaurant would send back his entrée because it wasn't cooked to his liking, that Eric would never make her laugh or smile as much as Chandler had.
Two days later after a very emotional sendoff, Chandler arrived at his new apartment. Unsure what to expect, he found himself plesantly surprised at his new environment. The apartment complex was located in a rather rustic area. It was far enough off the main road that he couldn't hear the traffic and yet close enough that the bay window in his living room provided him with a nice view of the skyline.
The furnished one-bedroom suited his needs. The kitchen was small and compact, but it included a dishwasher. The bed looked comfortable, he had enough closet and drawer space, and the living room had a sofa, coffee table, two easy chairs and a 25-inch television.
The New York office had given him a company car to use in Bridgeport, so he'd been able to bring most of what he'd wanted. He spent the day unpacking and arranging his belongings and getting familiar with his surroundings.
Earlier, he'd found the local yellow pages, so when evening approached, he called to order a pizza.
With the help of the TV, he made it through his first evening. If he disregarded how many times he thought about his friends sitting in Central Perk talking about their lives, then he had to consider his first day in Connecticut a success.
*~*
The next few days flew by as Chandler acquainted himself with his staff and with the scope of the project he'd been assigned to facilitate. He arrived early and stayed late, trying to get a plan of action in place. By the time he arrived home late Friday night, all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for 24 hours.
He stopped to check his mailbox, even though he'd only had one or two pieces since he'd given the Post Office his forwarding address, and when he saw the writing on a neatly wrapped pacakge, he knew Monica had sent him something. With adrenaline now surging through him, he told himself that sleep could wait. He had a package from Monica to open.
He settled himself on the sofa and then opened the box from Monica. He smiled when he saw what she had so thoughtfully sent to him. Packed tightly with newspapers, the box contained two carefully bubble-wrapped frames, one gold and one silver, and one small tin can. Monica had taped a note to the top. "Bet you can't guess what this is!"
"I bet I can," Chandler said out loud, after setting the frames on the coffee table.
He pulled the can from the box and removed the lid, fully expecting to see chocolate chip cookies. Instead there was another handwritten note, complete with a goofy face, from Monica. "Ha! Fooled you, Chandler Bing!"
Chandler had to laugh as he pulled out a plastic package of peanut butter cookies. At the bottom of the tin was a folded up note, which he immediately opened and read. "I don't want to spoil you," she'd written, "by always giving you what you expect. And I definitely don't want you taking me for granted. See, I did listen to you, Chandler, and I did learn something about you. And about myself." She'd signed the note "With Love, Monica".
He set the cookies and the tin can on the table and then carefully lifted one of the frames. He removed the bubble wrap and saw that she had framed a 5"x7" photo of the six of them taken at Central Perk by Gunther on Chandler's last night. The second frame, a silver one, was a picture of the two of them taken last Christmas in Monica's apartment. He'd forgotten they had posed with Monica sitting on his lap. He had to admit they'd both looked very happy.
Taped to the bubble wrap was another note.
"Not that I'm telling what to do," she had written, "but now, I'm being selfish. I hope you'll put the photo of the two of us wherever you spend the majority of your time. I miss you, Chandler, and I think about you all the time."
"I think about you, too," he told her picture. "And now that I have this lovely reminder, I'll think about you and miss you even more."
He placed the two photos on the coffee table, for the time being, and saw he had another piece of mail from New York City. This one was from Ross and Rachel, and it was his invitation to their engagement party which was going to be held four weeks from Saturday at a country club in upstate New York. Chandler checked the box on the reply card that said he would be attending. Where it asked for number of guests, he wrote "1".
Such a lonely number, he thought somberly.
His eyes traveled to the picture of Monica and him. If anyone who didn't know them were to see that photo, he was sure they would be viewed as a couple. And a happy one, too. But you're not, he reminded himself, so forget about it.
But he couldn't. His fingers itched to pick up the phone and call Monica. He forced himself not to. It was too soon, and he was still too weak. If he heard her voice, he might end up spending the weekend in a certain apartment in Greenwich Village.
Would that be so bad, he asked himself.
The stronger part of him, the one that had made this decision in the first place, finally asserted itself and told him he needed more time. He would write a letter to Monica instead of calling her.
Yeah, like I've ever done that before. But for Monica, he knew he would.
*~*
Monica was still awake when Rachel walked into the apartment.
"Hey, how did it go with your parents? Did you and Ross get a lot of the wedding plans figured out?"
"Yeah, we did," Rachel said, taking a seat at the table after grabbing a bottled water from the refrigerator. "How does a Christmas wedding sound?"
"Sounds romantic," Monica said wistfully.
"We think so, too. I want it to be in the evening, with lots of candles and flowers, and I want the bridal party's color to be a winter one. I can't wait for us to go to the bridal show tomorrow. I think I'm really going to get a lot of good ideas."
"I'm sure you will. Phoebe and I are looking forward to going with you. I'm so thrilled for you, Rach. I've never seen you look happier."
"I've never been happier," she confessed and then stifled a yawn. It had been a busy day to top off a very hectic week. "How come you're up so late? We have a full day ahead of us tomorrow."
"I know. I'll be ready to go tomorrow, but tonight, I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe Chandler might call. I'm hoping he got my package today."
"He may not have gotten it. But even if he did, he might not be ready to call you, honey. Maybe you'll get a letter from him or maybe you'll hear from him over the weekend or next week."
"Why, just when things are going great for you and things seem to be looking up for Phoebe, did my life have to fall apart? I wish I didn't miss him so much, but I do. I'm going to be dateless for your engagement party, and I'm probably going to be dateless for your wedding, too. Man, this sucks."
"Mon, honey, Chandler's going to be at the engagement party and the wedding. He said he would be there. He agreed to be Ross' best man, and you're my maid of honor. You guys will still be able to hang out together."
"But it won't be the same because that's not what he wants. I know this is exactly what he was talking about, and to a point, I agree with him. We never challenged each other beyond our friendship. I guess we were both too afraid if we got together and it didn't work out, we'd have nothing left."
"Give him a little more time, Mon. I refuse to believe he's not missing you as much, if not more, than you're missing him. One day soon, he is going to realize he left behind an amazing woman, and he's going to come back. For you."
*~*
Monica, Rachel and Phoebe walked into Central Perk early Saturday evening and met up with Ross and Joey. Rachel and Ross shared a kiss, as did Phoebe and Joey. Monica walked to the counter and ordered coffee for the three women from Gunther. By the time she had taken a seat on the sofa, the talk had turned to the day's events.
"The bridal fair was great," Rachel said enthusiastically. "You'll be pleased with me, Ross. I made a lot of decisions. Monica and Phoebe are going to be in maroon-colored dresses. I got lots of ideas for my wedding dress, but I haven't made my final decision. I will soon, though. I also have lots of samples of wedding invitation designs to look through and business cards from photographers and DJs. The flowers are going to be red roses, white pompons, and red and white carnations. Next weekend, we're going to see if we can find Monica's and Phoebe's dresses. So, what did you guys do today?"
Joey and Ross exchanged guilty looks.
"Not much," Ross admitted. "But your day sounds fantastic and very productive."
"It was. It really was. I'm having so much fun planning this wedding."
"It shows," Joey said. "So, what's everyone doing tonight?"
They all looked at each other; no one seemed to have any pressing plans.
"I'm going upstairs as soon as I finish my coffee," Monica said. "You guys are welcome to come with me. We can order Chinese if you want."
"Okay. Sure. Sounds good."
With everyone in agreement, Monica led the way. She could've cared less about eating Chinese food; all she wanted to do was to check her answering machine. As she entered her apartment, she kept her fingers crossed that there would be a message from Chandler, but to her bitter disappointment, her message waiting light was not flashing.
*~*
The weekend came and went without Monica hearing from Chandler. By the time she returned to work on Monday, her mood had soured quite considerably. She kept telling herself he hadn't received her package, but deep down, she knew he had and that her not hearing from him meant he planned to keep his distance.
"Hey, Monica," Eric, the headwaiter of the lunch crew, said as he entered the kitchen, "I heard from Ilene that Chandler's not living across the hall from you anymore. What happened?"
So much for taking her assistant chef into her confidence, Monica silently fumed.
"Nothing. He's temporarily relocated because of his job. That's all. He'll be back."
"Well, with him out of the way, maybe now a guy can have a chance."
"What are you talking about? Chandler's a friend, nothing more."
"Yeah, right."
Eric's hazel eyes dared Monica to tell him he was wrong.
"I don't know what you thought," she said, vigorously stirring the pot of soup on the stove, "but I am free to date whoever I want and I always have been."
"Well, then, how about going out with me?"
"Okay," she said, before she'd thought it through. "When would you like to go out?"
"How about tonight? We could get a drink after work."
"All right. That sounds nice."
No, it didn't. It sounded horrible. But what was she going to do? Chandler was finding a new way to live his life. She had to find a way to get on with hers, too. She knew she could do a lot worse than Eric, with his light brown hair, athletic build and charming smile. But she knew, as sure as she knew that at least one of the patrons in the restaurant would send back his entrée because it wasn't cooked to his liking, that Eric would never make her laugh or smile as much as Chandler had.