I'd just like to say I'm really sorry to lobster (and anyone else I may have offended). I was only saying the whole "didn't feel as if they'd be our own child" from Monica's point of view. I definitely don't agree with this but I know people who do. So I'm sorry again. But thanks for the good reviews so far.
Two Years Earlier...
After serious persuasion from my brother, and from Chandler, who was at that point my fiancé, I decided to invite my parents round for dinner. I was dreading it though. In the past, whenever I had braved my mother and cooked her food, there was always something wrong with it. Too simple. Too complex. Too hot. Too cold. Too much cheese. Not enough vegetables to compliment the chicken. I tried to take it in my stride, tried to tell myself that they were just trying to help. My dad always tried to stick up for me, but he never tried enough. I got the feeling he was scared of my mom.
I tried so hard to make the dinner 100% perfect. I cooked the lasagne just the right amount of time. I grated just the right amount of cheese for the sauce. I did everything as well as I could. I put so much effort into the dinner for that evening. All I wanted was some encouragement from my parents, a little compliment. Was that too much to ask?
When they arrived everything seemed like it might go smoothly. Chandler and my dad started talking in a pleasant way. My mother was making small talk with me about the neighbours plans to visit England in the near future.
I sighed heavily as the time came for the dinner to be served. Ross and Chandler were with me, for moral support I guess, and Chandler looked up expectantly as the oven timer rang. He gave me a smile of encouragement. He had so much faith in me. He loved my food, or so he said, but he always came back from work for lunch, so I took it that he wasn't lying.
"Is dinner ready?" my dad asked eagerly. "I'm so hungry. Your mother and I haven't had any breakfast today, because we overslept, what with last night and the..."
Ross threw my dad a glare, not wanting him to continue his sentence. My mother went slightly red. I think my dad keeps forgetting that we're his children, and really don't want to know about his sex life anyway. My mind wandered back to the time in London, where my dad mistakenly thought "the tube" meant...well, something else.
"Yes, dinner is ready," I replied quietly, not wanting this part to go wrong. Something inside me knew that if my mother was critical again, this day would not end well. I served up the dinner, and sat between Ross and Chandler-again, for moral support.
I wanted to laugh as Chandler and Ross over-exagerated the goodness of my cooking. "Mmm Monica, this is delicious!" Chandler declared much too loudly. "I wish you always cooked my meals!" He winked comically at Dad, who looked confused. Although he liked Chandler, he never ever understood his humour. He told me privately once that he thought Chandler could be a bit idiotic at times. I stood up for Chandler, but secretly I agreed, although I like a bit of idiocity once in a while.
Ross rubbed his stomach a lot during the meal. "Wow Mon, I am totally loving your cooking," he exclaimed, putting on an odd accent which made it sound all the more fake. But my mother said nothing, yet she cleared her plate. I was amazed. I had never been able to cook something that had pleased her so much that she finished it all.
My dad made a few comments about how nice the meat was, but this was not unusual. I was more interested in what my mother had to say, but she was saying nothing at all. I was surprised. But I really wanted to know what she thought of the meal.
Ross helped me out. "So Mom, what did you think?" he asked, in a not-so-fake tone of voice this time.
My mother nodded. "Mmm. It was lovely darling. Couldn't have been better."
I was shocked. I literally couldn't move. Couldn't have been better? Those were the nicest words I had ever heard escape my mothers mouth, that were addressed to me! I smiled at her. "Thanks mom," I said. She smiled back. It was a kind of secret smile.
"Who wants pudding?" I asked. Everyone nodded. Things were going great between us. Everyone was happy. And the pudding seemed to be a complete success. My mom and dad seemed quite at home with us. Finally, I thought. There is real love in this room. It sounded corny. And I should have known it wouldn't last.
My mom asked if she could have a private word with me, just before they left. I was busy washing up, but I decided to give her a couple of minutes, so we went into my bedroom. I was preparing myself for some form of "You apartment needs this/that/the other" conversation.
"Monica, I'm a little worried about you," my mom began, sitting down on the bed. "I mean, your father and I have always been a little confused by your taste in men. When you started dating Richard...well, that was a shock for us. But we grew to realise that you two were really in love, and it really seemed as if you were meant to be. We were so happy for you darling. He had a good income, he knew how to treat a lady..."
I really did not like the way this conversation was going. Through gritted teeth, I said: "And?"
"Well... this Chandler... we've always been a little confused by him. We never knew WHY your brother was such good friends with him, and now you two are getting married? Honey-his mother is an author of...erotic novels..." She said this with a look of disgust that was so apparent. "...and his father... is a woman! Are you sure you're doing the right thing by marrying him?"
"Mom, I love him," I said simply. "I don't care about his family, his income, his background. I love Chandler for what he is. Who he is. It's not up to you who I marry."
My mom sighed. "Look, sweetheart, we've spoken to Richard recently. He's crazy about you still. He always thought you and Chandler would just be a fling. We promised him it wouldn't last, that we'd help you two get back to..."
"What?" I exclaimed. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't run my life anymore mom! You can't get involved in my love life! Oh my god... oh my god, I can't believe what you've done!"
I walked out of my bedroom, and my mom followed me. Chandler and Ross were talking with my dad, and they looked up when we entered the room.
"Dad, I think you're leaving now," I said, opening the door. "It was so nice to have you two come visit, but next time, please warn me if you're going to tell me who to marry. Hey, would you like to name our first child?"
My dad looked at my mom. "Judy, I told you not to say anything," he said, looking annoyed. I felt kinda sorry for my dad. It always seemed like he was told what to do by my domineering mother.
"Look, you two, I think you should go," Ross said calmly, ushering them out as they got their coats. I didn't even say goodbye. When Ross came back in I slammed the door shut angrily.
"They're trying to set me up with Richard behind my back!" I said to Chandler, who looked shocked. "That's right Chandler, they're not as nice as they seem."
Present Day
Monica sat staring at the phone, wondering whether to tell them the good news-that she was three months pregnant. She hadn't spoken to them since Christmas, and that was only very briefly. They attended her wedding-she didn't feel she could not invite them-but they didn't stay for the reception and she barely spoke to them.
She shook her head and stood up. There was plenty of time to ring them. She could do it tomorrow.
To be continued...
