Chapter 9
As his mother had requested, Chandler met her at the gate on Wednesday afternoon. The attractive blonde smiled and waved as she sauntered down the jetway. Giving him a fierce hug, she proceeded to tell him all about her flight as they made their way to baggage claim. Only when they were on the expressway leading into Manhattan did she ask him how he was.
"I'm okay," he answered.
"Good. I'm staying at the Plaza Hotel. I thought we could have dinner in their restaurant tomorrow night."
"All right."
Chandler kept his eyes on the road and the conversation to a minimum. His rather sullen demeanor wasn't lost on his mother.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I told you I'm fine."
"You're thinking about tomorrow, aren't you?" she pressed. "Darling, it'll be okay. You get through it every year, don't you?"
Chandler bit back a sarcastic retort. He didn't know why he felt the need to be arbitrary. He and his mother got along well enough, when they bothered to be in contact. But this time, he wished she would've come into town and not told him.
"Did you remember the books?" he asked.
"Yes. I've autographed one for Monica and one for Rachel."
"Thanks. I know they'll appreciate it."
"So," she asked, seizing the opportunity to talk to her son without fear of having her head bitten off, "who are these girls? Or should I say ladies?"
"Monica is the younger sister of my roommate, Ross, and Rachel is her best friend."
"How much younger?" Nora asked. She'd heard something in her son's voice when he'd spoken Monica's name.
"A year," Chandler answered. "They're graduating high school in June."
"This Monica. Do you like her?"
Chandler took his eyes off the road to glance at his mother. "Why would you ask me that?"
Nora shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something about the way you said her name made me think maybe you like her. That's all."
Her son chose to remain silent on the subject of his feelings for Monica.
*~*
"Monica, this is so exciting," Rachel said.
She sat at the kitchen table and watched as her friend took great care while preparing the macaroni and cheese and chocolate mousse torte from scratch.
"I know!"
"I can't believe your parents are letting you do this."
"Me neither. I couldn't believe I actually asked them."
"You must really like Chandler. I can't picture you doing this for anyone else."
Monica stared incredulously at her friend. "Rach, I want to be a chef. Of course I want to do this for people."
"Oh, I know, but that's like for money and prestige and stuff. I'm talking about just doing this for a guy, especially while you're trying to lose weight. Chandler's someone special."
Monica stopped greasing the pan for the torte. "He is, Rach. I know I'm probably not succeeding, but I'm trying to be so cool about this. But if you could've heard the way he was talking to me on the phone...I just...I think he's really nice, you know? And even though our upbringing has been different, it's amazing what we have in common. I hope he likes that I'm doing this for him. I keep worrying I'm gonna do the wrong thing and mess this up."
"You won't, Mon. Chandler will love this," Rachel said, snatching a piece of cheddar cheese from the cutting board before Monica could slap her hand. "Guys like it when women cook for them."
"Then how come you never do it?" Monica asked.
"Well, I have other ways of pleasing them."
She and Rachel shared a giggle.
"I'm glad your parents are letting you spend Thanksgiving with us," Monica said.
"Me, too."
"Rach?"
"Yeah?" she said, pilfering another wedge of cheese as Monica rolled her eyes.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you excited...even just a little bit...at the thought of seeing Ross again?"
*~*
Chandler opened the hotel room door for his mother and set her carry-on bag against the nearest wall. She shrugged off her sable coat; Chandler hung it in the closet. After kicking off her gray pumps, Nora made her way to the wet bar where she poured herself a glass of white wine.
"Can I fix you something to drink?"
"Water's fine," Chandler said, looking around at her suite. "Very nice. And probably very expensive."
"Yes, it is. But I'm worth it, don't you think?"
Nora laughed as she handed her son his glass of water.
"Sit down," she said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"I guess I could stay for a little while. Classes are done until Monday."
"How's that going?" Nora asked, having taken a seat across from her son.
"Eh."
"Eh?" Nora repeated. "Chandler, I'm not paying for you to attend NYU so you can say it's 'eh'."
"I know," he said, after swallowing his water. "But I feel like I'm wasting my time."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not doing anything!"
"What do you mean? You'd better be studying and going to your classes."
Chandler rose from his chair and set his empty glass on the bar. He turned to look at his mother who had twisted in her seat to face him.
"I am doing that, okay. But it's not enough. It's not what I want to do."
"I thought going to NYU was your dream."
Chandler stared at his index finger as he trailed it across the wet bar. "I don't have any dreams. That's the problem."
Nora stood and set her goblet on the bar. She forced her son to look at her so she could study his face as she ran a concerned hand through his hair. "What has happened to you? What do you mean you don't have any dreams?"
"Mom, you're thinking of me as if I were still eight years old! A lot of things have changed in my life. Surely you must realize at least that much!"
"You don't have to snap at me. I'm asking because I care!"
"I'm sorry," he said, placing a gentle hand on his mother's arm. "It's just that I am so confused. I've been spending time with these two people at a coffeehouse near the campus. Mom, they are so interesting and full of life. They don't go to college, but they have dreams, goals, and a plan to make it all happen. I don't have any of that, and for the first time in a long while, I wish I did. I wish I could remember why the hell I wanted to go to NYU in the first place!"
"If it's not where you want to be, then leave."
"And do what? I'm qualified for nothing!"
"Chandler, you're nineteen years old. You can do and be anything you want!"
"See, that's where you're wrong. You lucked out because you managed to beat the odds and succeed at something you really wanted to do. But it's not that easy, and you can't tell me it is."
"It can be easy, if you know what you want to do. Why don't you go to the career counselor on campus? Explain to him or her what it is you're feeling. If you find something that interests you, I'm sure they can switch your classes around, or at the very least, you'll start over next semester. What's the big deal?"
"It is a big deal!" He wished his mother could, for once, see things from his perspective. "I feel like I'm always having to start over! I'm tired of it. Why couldn't my life have had some kind of normalcy about it?! Then, maybe if I wanted to date an overweight girl, I wouldn't have to care what others thought of me! I could tell them all to go to hell!"
Nora shook her head. Chandler knew he had lost her. It was the story of his life.
"Darling, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about me and how screwed up my life is! Do you think it should matter how much a person weighs or what they look like carrying that extra weight? Is that how we should be judged? Is it wrong to see something in that person that you see in yourself and realize you know exactly how that person's feeling?"
"Of course that's not wrong."
He banged his fist on the bar. "Then why am I fighting this so damn much?!"
"Chandler, what exactly are you fighting? I don't understand."
"Monica, the girl I told you about earlier."
Nora nodded.
"She's battling a weight problem. Personally, I think she'll win. She's just that determined. But that's not even the point anymore, although it is to people who I thought were my friends. She's a great girl, but no one sees that because they're too busy judging and making crass jokes about how many candy bars she eats! Phoebe, she's one of the people I was telling you about from the coffeehouse, is like the total opposite of Monica. Joey, her friend, has told me that Phoebe likes me and wants to get to know me better. So, I went out with her a couple of times. I like her, as a friend, but I don't feel anything romantic for her. But how easy it would be to get involved with her! And I hate myself when I start thinking that way because the one who makes me feel better is Monica!"
"You just said the answer," Nora said, her voice soft and understanding. "Chandler, why would you get involve with this Phoebe woman knowing you don't have romantic feelings for her when you could maybe have something very special with Monica?"
"Because that's what I do. It's the only thing I know! It's your fault I don't know how to be in a giving, healthy relationship!"
"I understand what you're saying, I do, but Chandler, you are not me and you are most certainly not your father. You are going to have to find your own way eventually. But the first thing you have to do is let yourself feel. I know you've told me before you're numb inside. But I don't believe that's true. If you really didn't have any feelings at all, you wouldn't care that Monica is teased about her weight. You would've been laughing right along with your buddies, and you would've thought nothing of it. But that's not who you are, son. Think, Chandler. Think what made you decide to spend time with Monica in the first place. You felt something, darling. I believe it scared you, but I also believe you liked what you felt because it was real and you couldn't deny it."
"What I feel for her is real. And I'm scared to death I'm going to hurt her."
"Then close yourself off and never take a chance. On anyone. You've been hurt, but you survived. How can you ever learn what it means to be in a real relationship if you never allow yourself to be in one?"
"I do like her, and I want to be with her. But how, Mom? How do I make this work?"
Nora smiled and gave her son a heartfelt hug. "The first thing you have to do is tell her how you feel. That's where you start, my son. That's where you begin."
*~*
With his head spinning and his mother's words still playing in his mind, Chandler drove around for a while after he'd left Nora's hotel room. He knew what he felt for Monica was real, but he still didn't know how to make his feelings work for him instead of against him.
As night began to fall, he pulled into his parking space at NYU. Little did he know his opportunity to tell Monica exactly how he felt about her was only moments away as he headed for his room, totally unaware of who and what waited for him there.
As his mother had requested, Chandler met her at the gate on Wednesday afternoon. The attractive blonde smiled and waved as she sauntered down the jetway. Giving him a fierce hug, she proceeded to tell him all about her flight as they made their way to baggage claim. Only when they were on the expressway leading into Manhattan did she ask him how he was.
"I'm okay," he answered.
"Good. I'm staying at the Plaza Hotel. I thought we could have dinner in their restaurant tomorrow night."
"All right."
Chandler kept his eyes on the road and the conversation to a minimum. His rather sullen demeanor wasn't lost on his mother.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I told you I'm fine."
"You're thinking about tomorrow, aren't you?" she pressed. "Darling, it'll be okay. You get through it every year, don't you?"
Chandler bit back a sarcastic retort. He didn't know why he felt the need to be arbitrary. He and his mother got along well enough, when they bothered to be in contact. But this time, he wished she would've come into town and not told him.
"Did you remember the books?" he asked.
"Yes. I've autographed one for Monica and one for Rachel."
"Thanks. I know they'll appreciate it."
"So," she asked, seizing the opportunity to talk to her son without fear of having her head bitten off, "who are these girls? Or should I say ladies?"
"Monica is the younger sister of my roommate, Ross, and Rachel is her best friend."
"How much younger?" Nora asked. She'd heard something in her son's voice when he'd spoken Monica's name.
"A year," Chandler answered. "They're graduating high school in June."
"This Monica. Do you like her?"
Chandler took his eyes off the road to glance at his mother. "Why would you ask me that?"
Nora shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something about the way you said her name made me think maybe you like her. That's all."
Her son chose to remain silent on the subject of his feelings for Monica.
*~*
"Monica, this is so exciting," Rachel said.
She sat at the kitchen table and watched as her friend took great care while preparing the macaroni and cheese and chocolate mousse torte from scratch.
"I know!"
"I can't believe your parents are letting you do this."
"Me neither. I couldn't believe I actually asked them."
"You must really like Chandler. I can't picture you doing this for anyone else."
Monica stared incredulously at her friend. "Rach, I want to be a chef. Of course I want to do this for people."
"Oh, I know, but that's like for money and prestige and stuff. I'm talking about just doing this for a guy, especially while you're trying to lose weight. Chandler's someone special."
Monica stopped greasing the pan for the torte. "He is, Rach. I know I'm probably not succeeding, but I'm trying to be so cool about this. But if you could've heard the way he was talking to me on the phone...I just...I think he's really nice, you know? And even though our upbringing has been different, it's amazing what we have in common. I hope he likes that I'm doing this for him. I keep worrying I'm gonna do the wrong thing and mess this up."
"You won't, Mon. Chandler will love this," Rachel said, snatching a piece of cheddar cheese from the cutting board before Monica could slap her hand. "Guys like it when women cook for them."
"Then how come you never do it?" Monica asked.
"Well, I have other ways of pleasing them."
She and Rachel shared a giggle.
"I'm glad your parents are letting you spend Thanksgiving with us," Monica said.
"Me, too."
"Rach?"
"Yeah?" she said, pilfering another wedge of cheese as Monica rolled her eyes.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you excited...even just a little bit...at the thought of seeing Ross again?"
*~*
Chandler opened the hotel room door for his mother and set her carry-on bag against the nearest wall. She shrugged off her sable coat; Chandler hung it in the closet. After kicking off her gray pumps, Nora made her way to the wet bar where she poured herself a glass of white wine.
"Can I fix you something to drink?"
"Water's fine," Chandler said, looking around at her suite. "Very nice. And probably very expensive."
"Yes, it is. But I'm worth it, don't you think?"
Nora laughed as she handed her son his glass of water.
"Sit down," she said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"I guess I could stay for a little while. Classes are done until Monday."
"How's that going?" Nora asked, having taken a seat across from her son.
"Eh."
"Eh?" Nora repeated. "Chandler, I'm not paying for you to attend NYU so you can say it's 'eh'."
"I know," he said, after swallowing his water. "But I feel like I'm wasting my time."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not doing anything!"
"What do you mean? You'd better be studying and going to your classes."
Chandler rose from his chair and set his empty glass on the bar. He turned to look at his mother who had twisted in her seat to face him.
"I am doing that, okay. But it's not enough. It's not what I want to do."
"I thought going to NYU was your dream."
Chandler stared at his index finger as he trailed it across the wet bar. "I don't have any dreams. That's the problem."
Nora stood and set her goblet on the bar. She forced her son to look at her so she could study his face as she ran a concerned hand through his hair. "What has happened to you? What do you mean you don't have any dreams?"
"Mom, you're thinking of me as if I were still eight years old! A lot of things have changed in my life. Surely you must realize at least that much!"
"You don't have to snap at me. I'm asking because I care!"
"I'm sorry," he said, placing a gentle hand on his mother's arm. "It's just that I am so confused. I've been spending time with these two people at a coffeehouse near the campus. Mom, they are so interesting and full of life. They don't go to college, but they have dreams, goals, and a plan to make it all happen. I don't have any of that, and for the first time in a long while, I wish I did. I wish I could remember why the hell I wanted to go to NYU in the first place!"
"If it's not where you want to be, then leave."
"And do what? I'm qualified for nothing!"
"Chandler, you're nineteen years old. You can do and be anything you want!"
"See, that's where you're wrong. You lucked out because you managed to beat the odds and succeed at something you really wanted to do. But it's not that easy, and you can't tell me it is."
"It can be easy, if you know what you want to do. Why don't you go to the career counselor on campus? Explain to him or her what it is you're feeling. If you find something that interests you, I'm sure they can switch your classes around, or at the very least, you'll start over next semester. What's the big deal?"
"It is a big deal!" He wished his mother could, for once, see things from his perspective. "I feel like I'm always having to start over! I'm tired of it. Why couldn't my life have had some kind of normalcy about it?! Then, maybe if I wanted to date an overweight girl, I wouldn't have to care what others thought of me! I could tell them all to go to hell!"
Nora shook her head. Chandler knew he had lost her. It was the story of his life.
"Darling, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about me and how screwed up my life is! Do you think it should matter how much a person weighs or what they look like carrying that extra weight? Is that how we should be judged? Is it wrong to see something in that person that you see in yourself and realize you know exactly how that person's feeling?"
"Of course that's not wrong."
He banged his fist on the bar. "Then why am I fighting this so damn much?!"
"Chandler, what exactly are you fighting? I don't understand."
"Monica, the girl I told you about earlier."
Nora nodded.
"She's battling a weight problem. Personally, I think she'll win. She's just that determined. But that's not even the point anymore, although it is to people who I thought were my friends. She's a great girl, but no one sees that because they're too busy judging and making crass jokes about how many candy bars she eats! Phoebe, she's one of the people I was telling you about from the coffeehouse, is like the total opposite of Monica. Joey, her friend, has told me that Phoebe likes me and wants to get to know me better. So, I went out with her a couple of times. I like her, as a friend, but I don't feel anything romantic for her. But how easy it would be to get involved with her! And I hate myself when I start thinking that way because the one who makes me feel better is Monica!"
"You just said the answer," Nora said, her voice soft and understanding. "Chandler, why would you get involve with this Phoebe woman knowing you don't have romantic feelings for her when you could maybe have something very special with Monica?"
"Because that's what I do. It's the only thing I know! It's your fault I don't know how to be in a giving, healthy relationship!"
"I understand what you're saying, I do, but Chandler, you are not me and you are most certainly not your father. You are going to have to find your own way eventually. But the first thing you have to do is let yourself feel. I know you've told me before you're numb inside. But I don't believe that's true. If you really didn't have any feelings at all, you wouldn't care that Monica is teased about her weight. You would've been laughing right along with your buddies, and you would've thought nothing of it. But that's not who you are, son. Think, Chandler. Think what made you decide to spend time with Monica in the first place. You felt something, darling. I believe it scared you, but I also believe you liked what you felt because it was real and you couldn't deny it."
"What I feel for her is real. And I'm scared to death I'm going to hurt her."
"Then close yourself off and never take a chance. On anyone. You've been hurt, but you survived. How can you ever learn what it means to be in a real relationship if you never allow yourself to be in one?"
"I do like her, and I want to be with her. But how, Mom? How do I make this work?"
Nora smiled and gave her son a heartfelt hug. "The first thing you have to do is tell her how you feel. That's where you start, my son. That's where you begin."
*~*
With his head spinning and his mother's words still playing in his mind, Chandler drove around for a while after he'd left Nora's hotel room. He knew what he felt for Monica was real, but he still didn't know how to make his feelings work for him instead of against him.
As night began to fall, he pulled into his parking space at NYU. Little did he know his opportunity to tell Monica exactly how he felt about her was only moments away as he headed for his room, totally unaware of who and what waited for him there.