Chapter 7
Chandler entered his room and found a neatly written note from Ross on the desk saying that he and Carol had gone to a movie. He also wrote that Chandler's mother had called and that he should call her as soon as he could. He left the number on the pad.
"Could this night get any worse?" Chandler asked rhetorically out loud, as he sank onto his mattress with the phone perched on his lap.
Somehow, he managed to greet his mother with a cheery "hello".
"Chandler! I'm so glad Ross gave you the message. How are you?"
"I'm okay, Mom. How are you?"
"I couldn't be better. The weather in L.A. is gorgeous. How's it in Manhattan?"
"Getting cold. But I can't believe you wanted me to call you so we could discuss the weather."
Nora laughed. "Of course not, darling. I have some good news!"
"Let me guess. You're getting married!"
"No. Chandler, stop being so sarcastic. This is really good news. At least, I think it is."
"Okay. What is it?"
"My Christmas book is being published, and I'm going to be in Manhattan for Thanksgiving! I have a big book signing the following day to kick off the Christmas season. Now, I know you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, per se, so I thought we could dress up and go somewhere fancy and have a non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner. What do you say, son?"
"Well, first of all, you have a Christmas novel coming out? I can't wait to read what you have Santa and Mrs. Claus doing, not to mention the reindeer and the elves."
Nora gave an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong with you tonight? It's a Christmas story. It's very tame and realistic. I'll bring you a copy so you can see for yourself."
"Better make that three," Chandler said. "And autograph two of them. I'll give you the names later."
"Okay. Now, think about where you'd like to go for dinner."
"Actually, Mom, I already have plans for Thanksgiving."
Chandler held the receiver away from his ear but could still hear Nora's uproarious laughter.
"Mom," he finally ventured. "Mom, what is so funny?"
"You, darling," she said, composing herself. "You have plans for Thanksgiving. Yeah, right. This is your mother, Chandler. I know you don't have plans. How can you have plans for a holiday you don't celebrate? Stop kidding with me. I'm arriving the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and I expect you to meet me at the airport in that lovely little car I bought you. Capiche?"
"But I really do have..."
"What is more important than spending time with your mother? I know what your plan is. Your plan is to hide from Thanksgiving and not even acknowledge it, but this year, I'm not going to let you. When I arrive at JFK Airport, I'll be expecting you. Now, I have to go, but I love you."
"Love you, too," Chandler said automatically and then hung up the receiver.
After placing the phone on the desk, he crumpled up Ross' note and threw it in the wastebasket. Why was it the only thing that made any sense to him these last two days was the time he'd spent with Monica?
On an impulse, he grabbed his jacket and headed back to Central Perk. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to widen his circle of friends.
*~*
Joey nudged Phoebe's arm. "Look who just walked in."
"Cool!" Phoebe said. "Go talk to him."
But Joey didn't have to. Chandler saw the pair sitting on the sofa and decided to join them.
"Remember me?" Chandler asked. "The pie guy?"
"Sure," Joey said. "That pie was good, too. Hey, Chandler, this is Phoebe Buffay. Phoebe, Chandler Bing."
"Nice to meet you," Phoebe said, flashing him a wide smile.
"Actually, I feel like I already know you. I...I've heard some of your songs."
"What do you think of them?"
"They're different...but interesting. Always interesting."
Phoebe nodded and inclined her head. "I've led a very interesting life. I should say lives, but I won't get into that now."
"Please don't," Chandler said, not unkindly. "I don't think my brain could take it."
"Rough night?" Joey asked.
"You could say that. I'm going to try drinking another cup of coffee. Can I get either of you anything?"
"No, we're good."
"So, what do you think?" Joey asked Phoebe after Chandler made his way to the counter.
"I like him," she said. "But I have to get to know him better. He seems a little...I don't know...reserved? Distant? Distracted?"
"Yeah. Maybe even a little angry."
Chandler returned with his coffee, and the trio made small talk for a while. Chandler discovered he liked Joey and Phoebe, as friends. When Joey suggested they go out some time, Chandler found himself agreeing.
"Do you guys live around here?"
"Yes," Phoebe said, "we live upstairs from this place. We're neighbors."
"Is that how you met?"
Phoebe nodded. "As soon as my roommate Denise and I moved in, Joey started asking us if we had any food to spare. We discovered he's a pretty neat guy."
"I'm a starving actor," Joey said, by way of explanation. "What can I say?"
"Have you gotten any work?" Chandler asked.
"Not really."
"But he goes on lots of auditions," Phoebe added. "It's just a matter of time. We know he'll get his big break, and then we'll say we knew him when."
"It's gotta be tough," Chandler said, "but you know what? I admire you for following your dream. At least you're giving it a chance."
"What's your dream?" Phoebe asked, trying to draw Chandler out.
Chandler shook his head and sighed. "I wish I had one, but I don't. My dreams were dashed a long time ago, and I've never bothered to find any new ones."
"We all need a dream," Phoebe proclaimed. "It's what keeps you going when times are bad. Without a dream or a goal, what is there to motivate you?"
At that moment, Chandler couldn't have answered that question if he'd wanted to.
*~*
Monica stared at the green digital numbers on her clock radio. 3:03 a.m., and she hadn't been to sleep. She finally climbed out of her warm, cozy bed and carefully made her way to her desk in the dark. She turned on the light, sat down, and pulled her treasured leather-bound journal from the top drawer. Remembering that she had written an entry in her notebook, she stood and padded to her closet to retrieve her purse. She placed it on her bed and unzipped it. After removing the notebook, Monica's eyes fell to the Kit Kat candy bar she had thrown in. She withdrew it and stared at the bright orange wrapping with the bold black lettering. After what she'd endured with her parents, that candy bar looked mighty tempting. All she had to do was open it and take a mouth-watering bite. No one would know. But she would. Monica knew eating the candy wouldn't accomplish anything. She realized she'd always known that, but this was the first time that knowledge had made a difference. She didn't want the chocolate. She wanted to improve herself. With determination, she threw the unopened candy bar into her trash can and buried it. She never wanted to see it again.
Resuming her seat, Monica took her time transferring her thoughts from the pages in the notebook to her journal. She relived the pleasant moments as she wrote. She added her current thoughts to a new page, ending with how wonderful she felt about having tossed the Kit Kat bar. She returned her journal to its coveted place and then removed the packet of photos Carol had given her. She thought she had stared holes into the pictures of Chandler. She couldn't help but smile each time she looked at them. She didn't know what the future held, but Monica wished she could bottle the way she was feeling so she would always have access to this special time in her life.
Still wide awake, she penned a letter to Chandler, thanking him again for the great time she'd had with him. She kept her words brief, safe and lighthearted. Only in her trusted journal would she expose her vulnerability and her insecurities, as well as the few triumphs she had experienced. There was no person, not even Rachel, whom she trusted enough to share her deepest fears and her most cherished dreams.
As she turned out the light and returned to her warm bed, Monica couldn't help but wonder if someday Chandler would be the one who would know the secrets she kept safely and securely hidden within the confines of her tender but well-guarded heart.
Chandler entered his room and found a neatly written note from Ross on the desk saying that he and Carol had gone to a movie. He also wrote that Chandler's mother had called and that he should call her as soon as he could. He left the number on the pad.
"Could this night get any worse?" Chandler asked rhetorically out loud, as he sank onto his mattress with the phone perched on his lap.
Somehow, he managed to greet his mother with a cheery "hello".
"Chandler! I'm so glad Ross gave you the message. How are you?"
"I'm okay, Mom. How are you?"
"I couldn't be better. The weather in L.A. is gorgeous. How's it in Manhattan?"
"Getting cold. But I can't believe you wanted me to call you so we could discuss the weather."
Nora laughed. "Of course not, darling. I have some good news!"
"Let me guess. You're getting married!"
"No. Chandler, stop being so sarcastic. This is really good news. At least, I think it is."
"Okay. What is it?"
"My Christmas book is being published, and I'm going to be in Manhattan for Thanksgiving! I have a big book signing the following day to kick off the Christmas season. Now, I know you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, per se, so I thought we could dress up and go somewhere fancy and have a non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner. What do you say, son?"
"Well, first of all, you have a Christmas novel coming out? I can't wait to read what you have Santa and Mrs. Claus doing, not to mention the reindeer and the elves."
Nora gave an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong with you tonight? It's a Christmas story. It's very tame and realistic. I'll bring you a copy so you can see for yourself."
"Better make that three," Chandler said. "And autograph two of them. I'll give you the names later."
"Okay. Now, think about where you'd like to go for dinner."
"Actually, Mom, I already have plans for Thanksgiving."
Chandler held the receiver away from his ear but could still hear Nora's uproarious laughter.
"Mom," he finally ventured. "Mom, what is so funny?"
"You, darling," she said, composing herself. "You have plans for Thanksgiving. Yeah, right. This is your mother, Chandler. I know you don't have plans. How can you have plans for a holiday you don't celebrate? Stop kidding with me. I'm arriving the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and I expect you to meet me at the airport in that lovely little car I bought you. Capiche?"
"But I really do have..."
"What is more important than spending time with your mother? I know what your plan is. Your plan is to hide from Thanksgiving and not even acknowledge it, but this year, I'm not going to let you. When I arrive at JFK Airport, I'll be expecting you. Now, I have to go, but I love you."
"Love you, too," Chandler said automatically and then hung up the receiver.
After placing the phone on the desk, he crumpled up Ross' note and threw it in the wastebasket. Why was it the only thing that made any sense to him these last two days was the time he'd spent with Monica?
On an impulse, he grabbed his jacket and headed back to Central Perk. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to widen his circle of friends.
*~*
Joey nudged Phoebe's arm. "Look who just walked in."
"Cool!" Phoebe said. "Go talk to him."
But Joey didn't have to. Chandler saw the pair sitting on the sofa and decided to join them.
"Remember me?" Chandler asked. "The pie guy?"
"Sure," Joey said. "That pie was good, too. Hey, Chandler, this is Phoebe Buffay. Phoebe, Chandler Bing."
"Nice to meet you," Phoebe said, flashing him a wide smile.
"Actually, I feel like I already know you. I...I've heard some of your songs."
"What do you think of them?"
"They're different...but interesting. Always interesting."
Phoebe nodded and inclined her head. "I've led a very interesting life. I should say lives, but I won't get into that now."
"Please don't," Chandler said, not unkindly. "I don't think my brain could take it."
"Rough night?" Joey asked.
"You could say that. I'm going to try drinking another cup of coffee. Can I get either of you anything?"
"No, we're good."
"So, what do you think?" Joey asked Phoebe after Chandler made his way to the counter.
"I like him," she said. "But I have to get to know him better. He seems a little...I don't know...reserved? Distant? Distracted?"
"Yeah. Maybe even a little angry."
Chandler returned with his coffee, and the trio made small talk for a while. Chandler discovered he liked Joey and Phoebe, as friends. When Joey suggested they go out some time, Chandler found himself agreeing.
"Do you guys live around here?"
"Yes," Phoebe said, "we live upstairs from this place. We're neighbors."
"Is that how you met?"
Phoebe nodded. "As soon as my roommate Denise and I moved in, Joey started asking us if we had any food to spare. We discovered he's a pretty neat guy."
"I'm a starving actor," Joey said, by way of explanation. "What can I say?"
"Have you gotten any work?" Chandler asked.
"Not really."
"But he goes on lots of auditions," Phoebe added. "It's just a matter of time. We know he'll get his big break, and then we'll say we knew him when."
"It's gotta be tough," Chandler said, "but you know what? I admire you for following your dream. At least you're giving it a chance."
"What's your dream?" Phoebe asked, trying to draw Chandler out.
Chandler shook his head and sighed. "I wish I had one, but I don't. My dreams were dashed a long time ago, and I've never bothered to find any new ones."
"We all need a dream," Phoebe proclaimed. "It's what keeps you going when times are bad. Without a dream or a goal, what is there to motivate you?"
At that moment, Chandler couldn't have answered that question if he'd wanted to.
*~*
Monica stared at the green digital numbers on her clock radio. 3:03 a.m., and she hadn't been to sleep. She finally climbed out of her warm, cozy bed and carefully made her way to her desk in the dark. She turned on the light, sat down, and pulled her treasured leather-bound journal from the top drawer. Remembering that she had written an entry in her notebook, she stood and padded to her closet to retrieve her purse. She placed it on her bed and unzipped it. After removing the notebook, Monica's eyes fell to the Kit Kat candy bar she had thrown in. She withdrew it and stared at the bright orange wrapping with the bold black lettering. After what she'd endured with her parents, that candy bar looked mighty tempting. All she had to do was open it and take a mouth-watering bite. No one would know. But she would. Monica knew eating the candy wouldn't accomplish anything. She realized she'd always known that, but this was the first time that knowledge had made a difference. She didn't want the chocolate. She wanted to improve herself. With determination, she threw the unopened candy bar into her trash can and buried it. She never wanted to see it again.
Resuming her seat, Monica took her time transferring her thoughts from the pages in the notebook to her journal. She relived the pleasant moments as she wrote. She added her current thoughts to a new page, ending with how wonderful she felt about having tossed the Kit Kat bar. She returned her journal to its coveted place and then removed the packet of photos Carol had given her. She thought she had stared holes into the pictures of Chandler. She couldn't help but smile each time she looked at them. She didn't know what the future held, but Monica wished she could bottle the way she was feeling so she would always have access to this special time in her life.
Still wide awake, she penned a letter to Chandler, thanking him again for the great time she'd had with him. She kept her words brief, safe and lighthearted. Only in her trusted journal would she expose her vulnerability and her insecurities, as well as the few triumphs she had experienced. There was no person, not even Rachel, whom she trusted enough to share her deepest fears and her most cherished dreams.
As she turned out the light and returned to her warm bed, Monica couldn't help but wonder if someday Chandler would be the one who would know the secrets she kept safely and securely hidden within the confines of her tender but well-guarded heart.