Chapter Seven - Joey - Part 1

Six weeks later

Breakfast at Monica's is as opulent as ever. Bagels, toast, jam, pancakes, omelets, coffee.

There is one thing missing, though. Rachel's not here.

The empty seat on the table indicates where Rachel usually sits when the four of us have breakfast together. Sometimes Phoebe and Mike are there too, sometimes even Ross when he finds the time to come over.

It was really nice. Rachel usually came over after Ross had gone to work, with a peacefully sleeping Emma in the stroller.
We had breakfast, we talked about stuff, we had fun. It felt as if nothing's changed.

It was in fact a lot better than before Emma was born, because Rachel and I seemed to know how to be around each other again.
I am so glad we're trying to put everything behind us. Not that I am over her or something, but it has gotten easier to pretend I am.

Added benefit is that this way, I can see Emma a lot. She gets cuter every day. I think she even already smiled at me, which everyone denied because apparently, babies learn to smile only when they're eight weeks old.

Well, I knew what I saw. So it's just between Emma and me.

Rachel seems to excel at being a mother, which isn't really a surprise since she excels at everything. Emma is a delightfully easy kid, everything goes according to the book.

At least it did for the past six weeks.

A few days ago Rachel stopped having breakfast with us. At first she called and excused herself, saying that Emma didn't sleep well the night before and she want to get her checked by her pediatrician. Today, she didn't even call.

How am I supposed to enjoy my breakfast when she's not there?

"Mon, what is up with Rachel lately? She's never there anymore," I complain while chewing on my bagel without much appetite.

"In case you haven't noticed, Joey, she has a baby. And don't speak with food in your mouth."

"But Emma never prevented her from coming over before!" Great, now I am really sounding like the sulking four year old, Monica treats me as.

"Emma isn't a newborn anymore and sleeps almost all day and through most of the night. It was really naïve of Rachel – and you – to expect it would be that easy forever."

Man, Monica sounds like she is glad Rachel is in trouble with her child. Although she is right about one thing, it couldn't be that easy.
If having seven sisters is good for one thing, it is learning what taking care of a baby is like. And yeah, not easy – at all.

"So we're just standing by, letting her deal with this on her own?" I ask accusingly. "While we sit around here having fun?"

"Joey that isn't fair!", interrupts Chandler.

"Monica has only this few hours in the morning before she has to go to the restaurant where she works until late at night almost every day. I have to go to work too, as does Ross. We're doing what we can but Rachel has to deal with this mostly on her own because we can't be there for her all the time."

My chair falls to the floor with a loud thud, when I jump up.

"I will help her."

I take a clean plate, put some of the things on it Rachel likes to have for breakfast.

"Joey, you have to go to work too, remember. The whole being a soap opera star thing?"

"I have days off and the shooting is mostly in the afternoon. I can make time for Rachel and Emma, it's no problem."

With that I head out of the door.

This is definitely the time to prove what a promise from Joey Tribbiani is worth.


I can hear Emma wailing before I even knocked on the door to Ross's apartment.

It takes Rachel a long time answering the door which gives me time to panic quietly because I haven't thought about what to say.

Maybe my offer to help her will seem like I don't think she is capable of taking care of her own child. Maybe …

Before I can start to list all the possibilities my offer might be received badly and thus going into full blown panic mode, the door opens and standing there is Rachel, a crying Emma on her shoulder, looking for a lack of a better word … horrible. Her hair hangs in greasy strands around her tired face, she has huge dark circles around her bloodshot eyes and I don't even wanna know what the stuff on her t-shirt is.

"Joey, now is a really bad time."

It is hard to even understand what she's saying over all the noise Emma makes. I've never heard her scream like this.

"I know, that's why I'm here."

Rachel looks puzzled but then motions for me to come in and I step into the apartment, closing the door behind me.

I put the plate with the food down on the coffee table and turn back to Rachel. "I brought you breakfast, courtesy of Chef Geller. Why don't you sit down and eat while I take the little siren here."

Rachel hands me the baby somewhat reluctantly and then plops down heavily onto the couch. "God, I'm starving."

And I am about to become deaf since Emma is howling right into my ear.

"What's up with her? Is she sick?"

"No," Rachel says while wolfing down her food, "Doctor says she's fine and that it's normal for babies her age to cry sometimes."

The last word comes with a gesture that clearly indicates that 'sometimes' isn't exactly how Rachel would put it.

"So she cries a lot?"

"Yeah and I don't know what to do about it anymore. I've changed her diapers, I tried to feed her like ten times an hour, I carry her around, I've even sang to her."

"Well that would've made me cry too," blurts out of me before I can stop it.

"Yeah you make fun of me. I haven't slept decently in what feels like a week, I can't shower, I can't eat – I'm a wreck. I guess I just suck at being a mother."

"Don't say that, you're a great mother. You just need someone who helps you out now and then."

"Ross helps as much as he can but he is only here for a few hours in the evening and for some reason, Emma is the most peaceful and good natured baby the world ever saw in those hours. I wish I could have only one night of uninterrupted sleep again."

"What about Ross, why doesn't he take care of her at night?"

"Well for one, I am the one with the breasts, and second, he has to go to work in the morning, I can't let him lose his sleep, since I am the one who is at home all day long."

Emma's crying has gotten a little less shrill but I have the strongest feeling that something is really bothering her. I shift her around a bit in my arms, trying something.

"Look Emma, mommy's having breakfast."

Rachel looks up alarmed. "Joey, you sure a baby should be held like this?"

"Why not? She can see a lot more this way and I have a hand on her belly so if she has a stomach-ache, the warmth and the pressure from my hand will help a bit. And listen – it works."

Thank God it does. I had no idea a crying baby could make you feel so helpless and frustrated. I'm starting to understand what Rachel's going through all the time.

"How do you know all that stuff about babies, Joey?"

"It might come as a shock to you, but I can read, Rachel."

"You've read baby books?"

"You forgot one at my place when you moved out, so I've read it."

Rachel's smile floods my heart with an unexpected warmth and I find myself smiling back at her.

"Thank you, Joey," Rachel says still smiling but then she suddenly looks down nervously and fidgets with the now empty plate. "For coming over and bringing me this."

"You're welcome."

When I look at Rachel rubbing her eyes, it strikes me again how tired she looks. I have to get her some time for herself, to catch some sleep. Or to shower. Or to do whatever she didn't do in a long time.

"Why don't you put Emma in her stroller and I go for a walk with her for a while? You can have some time for yourself and I'm sure Emma is going to be fine. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds great."

She takes Emma from me, which doesn't agree with Emma at all. She protests even louder when Rachel dresses her into a cute little jacket. The wailing stops only when she is all dressed up and I hold her again. Rachel shows me where the baby carriage is and I put Emma in it.
Then she looks at me critically.

"You're not gonna use her to pick up girls, are you?" she asks only half joking.

I admit I deserved that one after the debacle with Ben on the bus.

"No…" I say rummaging through my wallet for a while before finding what I was looking for. "…because..." I slip the simple gold wedding band on my finger, "… I'm off the market."

Rachel frowns a bit and then grins widely. "Convincing," she admits.

"Yeah, isn't it? This way women stare at me all the time appraisingly since I'm apparently such a great guy, but I'm not in any danger that they will try anything."

The last words make me wince inside. I hope Rachel didn't catch up on my use of the word 'danger' in relation to get hit on by girls.

The reason I carry this ring around is pathetic enough. I used it during my horrible dating experiences to explain my early departure. I was the unhappy husband who was trying to cheat on his wife but couldn't go through with it because he was still in love with her. Good thing I'm an actor. Although it wasn't that much of a stretch to play.


I was walking around with Emma for about two hours before I decided to go back to the apartment.

Emma had spent the first hour of our walk looking interested at the leaves fluttering in the wind and everything else in her field of vision. Then she got tired and after putting up an heroic fight against the heaviness in her eyelids, she fell asleep.

She's still sleeping but I didn't wanna risk having to walk around town with a hungry and crying baby, so I decided to go back. Rachel had given me the key to her apartment, so in case Rachel is still sleeping as well, I don't need to wake her up before Emma is awake.

The apartment is quiet and apparently Rachel did what I told her and didn't start cleaning up or something but went straight to bed.

I put down Emma into her bassinet careful to not wake her up. Then I make myself useful and start tidying up the place a bit.
Just when I start looking for something else to do, Emma begins to get restless. I walk over to the bassinet and see her looking at me with her big round eyes.

"Hi sweety, had a nice nap?"

As if she wants to answer my question, Emma yawns but then proceeds to look rather unhappy.

"Oh, shhh, Emma, everything's alright, uncle Joey will take you out of there and we will see what's wrong, okay? No need to start screaming again. We don't want to wake up mommy, do we?"

Although I think Emma doesn't care much about her mother's sleep, she stays quiet when I pick her up and carry her over to her changing table.

After changing her diaper – which I managed surprisingly well, thanks to all the reading I did – I entertain her a while by carrying her around, but soon enough she starts to suck on her fingers hungrily which means that I'll have to wake up Rachel.

Rachel doesn't answer when I knock on her bedroom door so I just go in after waiting for a few moments.

She's still asleep. The wet towel in front of her bed probably means that she took a shower before she went to bed.

I kneel down beside her bed, staring at the sleeping beauty that is Rachel. It seems like an eternity ago that I was allowing myself to just look at her. To marvel at her beauty, to be awed by the perfect lines of her face. Good thing I need my hands to hold Emma, otherwise I wouldn't know how to fight to urge to touch her, to feel her skin, to bury my hand in her hair.

I suppose I could still kiss her.

Just when I start to seriously contemplate doing that, Emma lets out a high pitched cry that startles Rachel out of her sleep.
Great, now I am looking like a freak, kneeling in front of her bed, holding her baby and staring at her like that.

"Rach I ... uhm … I was about to wake you up since Emma seems to be hungry."

Fortunately, Rachel is too groggy to notice my strange behavior and starts to get up, still half asleep.

"No, no Rach, don't get up. I've already changed Emma's diapers, you can feed her here in your bed, lying down."

"I've never tried that before."

"Well I think you should, it seems like a comfortable way to do it."

"Can't hurt to try," Rachel mumbles.

I place Emma beside her and turn around to go.

"Joey, wait."

"Yeah," I answer with my back still turned to her, because I don't think I could handle seeing her undress herself.

"Will you still be there when I'm done?"

"Yes, I was thinking about making something for lunch. Okay?"

"Sounds great."

I head out of her room and into the kitchen. In there I take a few deep breaths to get my emotions back under control.
It's been more than four months now and only looking at her still reduces me to an emotional wreck.


Whoever is in charge of grocery shopping in the Geller-Green household does a lousy job. I've already put together a list of things I will have to buy in order to make this kitchen suitable for a Tribbiani.

A pot of tomato soup is simmering on the stove and I found some slices of toast to go with that. I suppose I could have ordered take-out, but I somehow felt like cooking something for her.

"Joey," I hear Rachel calling from her room and I race back in there. "Joey, can you hold her for a while? I'm with you in a minute."

"Okay, no problem."

I take Emma back with me to the kitchen.

"So, Emma. How was lunch? Doesn't it get a bit dull having milk all the time? I know you have no teeth, but you should have seen great-grandmother Tribbiani. Not one tooth in her mouth and she could eat everything. Maybe it's because you don't know better yet. Hey, you know what? When you're older, I'm taking you to this great place where they make the best sandwiches in whole New York, what do you say? I swear, you'll never drink milk again after that."

"I suppose as a responsible mother, I shouldn't let her go with you then."

Rachel is standing in the door, grinning widely.

"Wow, geez, Rachel, you scared me, I almost dropped her."

I'm a bit embarrassed that she heard me talk to Emma like that. I mean, of course I know Emma can't understand me yet, but I can't bring myself to behave like Ross when he has her. Probably means I'm not good with babies. Although Emma doesn't seem to mind.

"I like it that you talk to her like she is a normal human being," Rachel says as if she was reading my mind. "Ross sometimes drives me crazy with all the silly baby-talk."

God, I love her.

She puts the bassinet she brought with her besides the kitchen table and sits down. I put Emma in there.

"So, what's for lunch, Chef Tribbiani? Mhhm, wait, let me guess …tomato soup a lá grandma Tribbiani."

She takes a spoon and eats right out of the pot. "Mhhhm, Joey, that is so good."

That one triggers all the wrong memories.

Rachel catches the look on my face and hurriedly corrects herself. "I mean, it's delicious."

"Well … uh…," I stutter, trying to get a grip. "It's not much, your kitchen is a disaster."

Rachel smiles at me again. I am glad. This could have been awkward.

"Every kitchen without peanut butter is a disaster for you, right?"

"There is not just the peanut butter missing, Rach. Look I put together a whole list of stuff I'll need to prepare a decent meal."

Rachel looks totally surprised. "You … you want to cook for me again sometime?"

"Only if you want me to. If not …"

"No, no Joey, of course I want you to. I haven't felt that good in a week. I'm really grateful for what you did. I just thought it was a one time thing."

"I would love to help you out with Emma regularly if that's okay with you. Not that I think you couldn't handle her or that you're not a good mother or that you need any help…"

"Joey, stop it. I know I need help, and I can't handle her, at least not all the time. I'm thankful for every help I can get."

"So, it's okay for me to come over again?"

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and takes my hand in hers. This is the first time we have physical contact again since the day I made her leave. It's overwhelming. And also a bit funny if I think about it. Who would have thought that one day, just holding hands would mean so much to me.

"Of course it is, Joey. But why…why are you doing this?"

"You're a friend who could use some help. So here I am."

She takes a tentative step towards me and leans lightly against my chest.

"Thank you, Joey," she murmurs, "Thank you."

It takes me a while but eventually I let go of her hand and put my arms around her, holding her tight, reveling in the feeling of having her back there. Even after everything we've been through, I still can't fight the feeling that this is where I want her to be.

For the rest of my life.

xxxxxx

tbc