Perfect Revenge

August 1991

Loud music reverberated through the hall as dancing couples swirled by. Monica took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. Resplendent in a silk, sky blue bridesmaid's gown, raven hair upswept in an elegant knot, blue eyes sparkling over an impeccably made-up face, she was a true picture of beauty. She smiled contentedly. She could barely believe that only three years ago she was the fattest girl on the block, and now, her svelte, perfectly curved figure smiled back at her from the mirror. Life was good. Things were finally falling into place. Just a month ago, she graduated from college with a bachelor's degree after a three-year accelerated program. She had just gotten herself a cozy assistant chef's job at a fancy restaurant in the city, Iridium, and was slated to start culinary school in the evenings. Her dream of becoming a chef was in sight.

As was her dream of living in the big city. After 21 years of life in Syosset, Long Island, Monica was ready to make the big move out of her parents' home and into New York City. She had really lucked out. After frantically searching the newspapers for vacancies, she received some bad and good news: Nana was getting on in years, and would be moving in with Aunt Phyliss. The apartment was available, and with Nana's rent control, it would be a real steal. Monica couldn't be more excited. She spent the first few weeks totally redecorating the place. It was so homey, cozy, and a wonderful place to hang out. But first she had to find some friends to hang out with.

None of her college buddies lived anywhere close by, and she wasn't really in touch with her high school friends, so she hoped she'd make some new ones. First she advertised in the local papers for a roommate. It took her weeks to find one, since everyone was sadly turned off by her neat-freak, super-clean, controlling neurosis. The only girl who was not put off by her tendencies was a ditzy, New Age hippie-type, with an equally eccentric name to match: Phoebe. She kept mostly to herself and ran in strange circles, so Monica didn't mind. She needed someone to help pay the rent – and she needed someone to turn her apartment into a "guy place." Although she'd had some on-and-off boyfriends during college, she was free now, and having an attractive blonde as a roommate was not a strange deal. Already her apartment had become a great place to hang out. With Ross and Carol living just a few blocks away, Phoebe bringing home guys all the time, and the cute guy across the hall with his girlfriend, Monica finally found a clientele to mother. Not to mention, a clientele to try her new recipes out on.

Monica's lips twitched in mild amusement as she thought of the guy across the hall. Kip was really cute, and Jewish to boot, which would make her father happy. His live-in girlfriend was nothing to write home about, but at least she was company. Just the other day, Kip had a huge fight with her and she had moved out. Now Kip was available, and Monica wondered how long she should make a move on him... or maybe on whoever his new roommate would be, if it would be a guy.

Yes, life was good. She had her own place in the city, a job, new friends, and a bright future. She looked great and felt wonderful. Her heart gave a little spin of joy as she took one last look in the mirror and began walking, slowly and steadily, to the center of the wedding hall.

With slow measured steps, she skirted the table of Ross's paleontology friends and headed straight for the top table. Ross and Carol were sitting up there, faces wreathed in radiant smiles. Ross was so lucky. He'd fallen in love with Carol in his sophomore year of college, and their romance had blossomed beautifully, until Ross proposed to Carol just a couple of months before his college graduation. Everyone was very surprised; Carol had yet another year of college to complete, as she was a year younger than him, and many people thought Ross would wait a little while longer and get a job first. But Ross was too scared to wait; Carol was his first real relationship and he wanted to solidify it before he had a chance to lose her. To everyone's surprise, Carol immediately accepted, and they set the wedding for summer break. In the meantime, Ross was lucky to nab a job at a local museum while making plans for continuing grad school at night. To him, his life was perfect, too.

Monica smiled and waved at Carol and squeezed Ross's hand.

"I'm so happy for you, Ross," she murmured.

"Thanks, sis!" Ross smiled. "All I can wish for you is the same happiness I feel right now." His eyes scanned the room. "Ooh, why don't you go over to the table of my college friends and try to get yourself a date? Tom Gordon is very handsome, John Rosoff might be interested in you, and ooh... let me see..."

Immediately Monica withdrew her hand from Ross's grasp, stung. Mrs. Geller looked pointedly at her. "Your brother is right," she said. "It's about time you got yourself a boyfriend."

"Mom, I'm twenty-one! Just because Ross was practically engaged at twenty-one doesn't mean everyone has to!" Hurt, she spun on her heels and walked huffily away from the head table. Trust her mother to ruin this magical night for her. She couldn't blame Ross, for he was too immersed in his own cloud of happiness.

Despite herself, Monica made a point of passing the college table. She was curious to see if any of the guys he mentioned would make a pass at her. As she approached, a tall, slender guy with a goatee walked over to her, hand outstretched.

"Hi Monica, and congratulations on your brother's wedding," said he. Monica shook his hand. "I'm sure you'll remember me – I'm Chandler. I spent two Thanksgivings at your house."

Instinctively, Monica stepped back and her eyes traveled down to Chandler's right toe, as guilt enveloped her. It looked normal from the outside, although what could she tell, since he was wearing shoes.

"Oh, hi," she stammered. "So nice to see you. I haven't seen you since... since..." she stopped short, hoping Chandler wouldn't remember the toe incident, and worse, blame her for it.

"Since Thanksgiving 1988," he replied smoothly. "How have you been? You look absolutely.... Gorgeous." He was trying hard not to gawp at her.

Well, Monica thought to herself, You don't even know it, but you were the catalyst for my weight loss. She would, of course, never give him the satisfaction of knowing that bit of information.

"Thanks," Monica replied with a beaming smile.

"So... so what are you up to these days?" Chandler asked, his eyes glittering.

A sly smile twitched on Monica's lips. So, Chandler still had a crush on her. Or, perhaps on her body. This was going to be fun. She arched her body so that her curves would be more visible. With a coy expression on her face, she answered, "Oh, I work in a restaurant as an assistant chef, and I'm going to start taking cooking classes at night."

"Oh, that's neat," Chandler answered. His eyes swept her from head to toe and he struggled to make more small talk.

"Actually," Monica said softly, "I have you to thank for my interest in a career in food." She realized with a sudden jolt that she had more in common with Chandler than she would have liked.

Chandler's eyebrows rose a half inch. "Really?"

"Yep... remember the mac and cheese I made you the first Thanksgiving?"

"Of course I do. You don't forget something so delicious so quickly." It was a weak attempt at flirting, but an obvious attempt.

"Well, at the time you told me, 'You should be a chef.' I'd been debating that idea for a while, and you said that to me, I decided to pursue that."

Chandler looked very pleased with himself. He twirled his napkin around in his hand as he searched for something else to ask her. Monica could clearly see that he was trying to work up the courage to ask her out. She was enjoying this moment too much. The memory of her secret humiliation when Chandler had called her "fat" back in 1987 still smarted. Yes, she had accidentally cut off his toe, but she had never gotten her real revenge – the triumph of humiliating him back. Was this her opportunity?

But Chandler did not ask her out. He was still trying to warm her up to him. "So, eh, I also just graduated. I was in Ross's graduating class." It was clear to him that Monica was quickly getting bored as her eyes began to rove the college alumni table. "And I'm doing a summer internship at Dun and Bradstreet, but my real dream is to get a regular paying job at one of those big accounting firms. But the commute is getting to me; I really need to find a place in the city. It's really tough; they are all very expensive..." his voice trailed off when he saw she was not following.

Monica, however, snapped back to the present. "What were you saying? You're looking for a room in the city? Why, I just may have the perfect little place for you. My neighbor across the hall has a vacancy. You can call him tomorrow, and I can vouch for you. This place is as good as yours."

"Really?" Chandler's eyes lit up. "Are you serious? That would be amazing! Thanks so much!" And before he knew what he was doing, he gave her a big hug.

Monica didn't know if she was more shocked by the hug, than by the fact that she had just offered a room to Chandler across the hall. What was the matter with her? Was she suddenly attracted to him? What happened to her feelings of anger? Why had she suddenly snapped and automatically spoken up about the apartment?

But Chandler had already moved on. "I'll call you tomorrow, Monica. I'll get your number from Ross. It was really cool to see you. Bye."

Numb, Monica stood there, wondering what she had just let herself into. She tried to sort out her jumbled thoughts. Chandler, her neighbor? No way!

As she stood there thinking, a plan formulated in her head. A slow smile crept up on her face. This would be the perfect revenge. She would easily be able to convince Kip, who she just knew had the hots for her, to accept Chandler as a roommate. Then she would mother Chandler to the point of smothering. He would fall in love with her and ask her out. And.... Then she would turn him down. She would finally accomplish what she so wanted to do back in 1988, when she got revenge of a different kind.

What a pity that Rachel wouldn't be around to witness her Perfect Revenge.

There was a knock at her door. Monica hurried to open it. Chandler had called earlier and said he'd come by at noon to look at the apartment. Excitedly, she had prepared a batch of her most fragrant chocolate chip cookies and a heavenly lasagna. Phase 1 of her plan was about to go in effect.

"Hi!" she said brightly, opening the door.

Chandler stood there, bouquet of flowers in hand. "These are for you, as a thank you. I just signed a contract with Kip. May I come in and introduce myself to my next door neighbors?" There was a happy smile on his face.

Monica couldn't be more delighted. Her plan was working perfectly. "Sure, come on in!"

"Wow!" Chandler's eyes were wide as saucers as he took in the beautifully decorated apartment and its cozy purple walls. "This sure is a nice place. You know how to decorate!"

Monica smiled and offered Chandler her homemade cookies. "Thanks. I love this place. I'm only living here for two months and it's already become a great place to hang out. Ross comes over with Carol pretty often, and Kip likes to eat my food too."

"Great! I'd love to be able to continue seeing Ross. Wow, these are... heavenly," Chandler said, his mouth full. His eyes roved over her living room as he tried to make more small talk. "Tell me, remember that friend of yours, that Ross used to have a crush on, whom I –"he stopped himself in time from saying "whom I made out with once in college".

"Rachel?" Monica finished for him with a grin.

"Yes, of course. She was the only thing he talked about in his freshman year, until Carol came and rescued him from his yearning. If you ask me, Carol was only a rebound from his infatuation with Rachel. I hope this marriage will last, frankly."

Monica was startled. She had never thought of it that way. "Well, Rachel and I kind of drifted apart after high school. We went to two different colleges in two different cities and tried to keep in touch, but after that Thanksgiving... after..." she neatly avoided mentioning what she privately referred to as The Great Toe Incident. "After the second time you came for Thanksgiving," she quickly corrected herself. "She got a whole new circle of friends, really not my type – snobbish, rich types I couldn't stand to be around. We lost touch. I kind of miss her though." She shrugged.

She particularly missed her now that her Perfect Revenge was going to happen. How Rachel would have loved to hear that Chandler was living across the hall! Oh, the pranks they could have pulled on him together. But it was too bad. Rachel had never tried to mend their friendship, and Monica wasn't about to extend herself. She pressed her lips together.

Chandler reached for another cookie, and his eyes wandered over to Phoebe, sitting in a corner, chanting something over a pile of beads and candles which were emitting a heavy scent. "Whew, who is that attractive chick?"

"Phoebe?" Monica called to her roommate. "I want you to meet our new neighbor who is moving in across the hall. This is Chandler."

Phoebe gave Chandler a perfunctory glance. "Don't disturb my karma," she said breathily, and looked back down. Chandler's face fell.

A wicked smile played on Monica's lips. "What's the problem? She out of your league?"

Chandler looked off into the far distance. "Well, so are most girls," he said with a sigh. "The world is basically out of my league. When I'm done with all the girls, I guess that'll be the time for all the guys to start rejecting me."

Monica looked at him in shock. What was this? Was he gay?

"Oh, no, no, no," he said quickly. "I'm not.. I'm not... This is just my weird sense of humor. It helps me get through life." He paused. "I don't do very well with women. I can count on my fingers the dates I ever went on. The women I have feelings for... they never feel the same way about me." He looked pointedly at Monica.

Monica met his gaze and a sudden spark of electricity passed between them. Quickly, they both looked away. Monica's heart began pounding suddenly. She couldn't believe this. What was she feeling about Chandler? Did she feel sorry for him? Sympathetic? Or could it be that she actually was beginning to like him? Was she realizing that he never really meant to be mean to her, but he was just a stupid, superficial 18 year old when he had called her fat?

"Well, I'd better be going," Chandler said cheerily. "I'm gonna go back to my little hole in Brooklyn and have my stuff moved over bright and early tomorrow morning. I'm really looking forward to living next door." He rose and walked to the door.

"Chandler... just a second." Monica walked over to the door and hugged him. "And I'm looking forward to being your neighbor too."

Chandler tried to hide his beaming smile, but he wasn't entirely successful.

After he left, Monica leaned on the door and tried to sort out her feelings. She was so confused. Part of her wanted to continue implementing her plan for finally getting her Perfect Revenge and humiliating Chandler just when the time was right. But the other part of her wanted to like him. She wanted to mother him and be his friend. She didn't really want revenge.

With a start, she realized that she had already gotten her revenge. The Big Toe incident was more than revenge for having been called fat. The best revenge she could get now, was to rise above her animal instincts, and put her grudge aside. Being a friend to Chandler when he needed one, being kind and nurturing to him, and being the person he could come to when he sought advice, would be the best revenge. She would show him that she was not the type of person to bear a grudge for too long.

And if he'd ever ask her out? Maybe, she would say yes. Just maybe. She would put all her hurt aside and rise to the occasion. She's be, as they say in Yiddish, a mensch. She would forget about the past and embrace the future.

And that would be the perfect revenge.