We stare at the ugliest paintings; the most gruesome paintings I have ever seen; and Phoebe sits there and marvels over the beauty of these paintings;
There are pictures of wars, and of hunger, people so hungry they are eating each other; and Phoebe cannot help but marvel at the beauty of these paintings;
"Phoebe, they're not pretty." I say.
"Says who? They represent all the pain and suffering in this world."
"They're old and ugly." I enforce; "They hurt my eyes to look at. I don't know how you can appreciate them."
Phoebe now knew that if Rachel thought the paintings were ugly, she would think phoebe would be ugly after treatment, treatment for her diese that she was not yet ready to share with them.
"So when we all get old and ugly, do people stop appreciating us?"
I now realize what Phoebe means; the years have not treated her well. She has puffs under her eyes, and lines around her mouth; her hair, once long blonde and beautiful, is short and thin and held back from her green eyes with small sunflower clips;
"No, Phoebe…" I say, as I reach out and grab her shoulder; "That's not what I meant."
I now feel very bad for what she had said, I really didn't mean it that way, I realized after looking at phoebe for a long whole, she isn't the same, high sprung person, she something wrong with her?
"It is kind of true; when a woman hits a certain age in Hollywood, her career is over."
I now have to convince phoebe that she didn't need looks to be loved by people; by the world I am going to try my best
"Phoebe, you look good."
"No. Don't lie to me. I got ugly."
"We all have different opinions of what is beautiful."
"Isn't that the truth…" she says back.
Then Ross, Rachel and phoebe sit down on the couch while phoebes tells the WHOLE story about what exactly is going on, and how she feels.
5 months earlier
Phoebe woke up in the morning, remembering that her and Mike were trying to conceive a child again, because they were having troubles just like Monica and chandler. She rolled over and saw mike lying next to her, she had fond memories of the night before, she suddenly felt her stomach turn, and she ran to the washroom a little dizzy. She closed the door and leaned over the toilet and threw up (white stuff) "yeah! I am having a baby, I have morning sickness!" she whispered to her self, she then cleaned her self up and ran out back in to the bedroom, jumped on the bed and ripped the covers off mike.
"Awe my eye, the light! Phoebe, what!" he laughed as he started hitting her with a pillow "okay phoebe what was this really for?"
"I think I'm pregnant"
"Really! Oh my god! We have to go to the doctor now to be 100 sure"
AWHILE LATER AT THE DOCTOR WITH MIKE"Mike, do you really think we finally did it? Do you really think we're going to have a baby!" tears of joy gleamed in her eyes and she was beaming.
"I really think we did sweetheart." Mike squeezed Phoebe's hand. It gave Phoebe a sense of security.
I'm going to have a baby; I'm going to be a mommy. Phoebe had wanted this ever since she had her brother's triplets. There was something wonderful about having a family, something she had not had since she was very young.
The pregnancy test had come out negative, but there was still hope; the doctor had wanted to do more tests on her, and she agreed willingly. The doctor had shown no fear; he had even lied to her.
Phoebe lifted herself up to the paper-covered table at the doctor's office, and the doctor put a large X-ray of Phoebe's diaphragm on the light board. That's me, Phoebe thought. There was a large dark spot.
"Oh my god!" Phoebe said, "That's not normal! That's not a baby!"
"Miss Hannigan, that's cancer." The doctor said.
Mike let go of her hand. What sort of higher power let me get cancer? The same power that is responsible for everything wonderful. And the wedding ring Phoebe had slipped off her finger, fell off the table and the doctor accidentally kicked it with the sole of his, let it roll under the table.
The doctor's words became invisible to Phoebe;
"…Chemotherapy…radiation…stage 3 Ewing sarcoma, 60 chance for survival."
Phoebe said as she left the doctor's office;
"At least I know."
Mike looked at her; "What?"
"If I die, at least I know where I'm going."
END OF FLASHBACK"Oh, Pheebs…" I say, and pet her hair, and she draws away. It takes me this long to realize things aren't the same; we have grown apart. I mean we have grown apart.
I remember the time when I was feeling down and Pheebs patted my head to make me feel better and said
"Awe pheebs" "Pheebs, that's your name" I responded a tad bit confused, and she said all happy and blonde "Oh that's short for Phoebe, I thought that's just what we called each other!" I remember that moment as if it were yesterday, now I felt even sadder, and more depressed.
"How many of you think someone who has a cancerous tumor in their brain is beautiful?"
"Is this a trick question," I ask, not realizing the reality of what she is trying to say.
"Phoebe?" Ross said, staring at her.
"Yeah, uh-huh, December 3 rd 2005, five days before I predicted that I would conceive my first child…I became an official cancer patient…" she says, as she walks to the window and stares at the stars twinkling, as if they were dancing into forever; only to die unexpectedly…
"Now, there's something that is truly beautiful about these stars. I think my Mom is one of them…"
"Do you think your Mom is everywhere?"
"Yeah. I see my mom in everything, everyone, except for Mike and every other guy I've dated."
"Is your cancer gone?" Ross asks holding my hand so tight, my hand turns white;
"I had surgery, followed by intense chemotherapy and radiation."
We say nothing, we are pretty sure there is nothing to say;
"It was weird; like you know, I already know there is to know about the after life, I know everything in those respects; no questions. But whenever I went to the grocery store with a bandanna on my head, because I had lost all my hair from the radiation, I could tell everyone was staring at me; they said, "You think that lady has cancer." And then they'd smile at me, really strangely."
"But are you okay?" I ask, trying to imagine how horrible it would be lose all your hair.
"I can't play the guitar anymore."
And hearing this; Ross and I stand perfectly still; she is waiting for us to say something, but we can't.
"Something just happened after my treatments and my fingers didn't move that way anymore; I was ashamed. I thought I wouldn't come here. Then I remember you guys were my best friends, and I thought well, give the people who haven't called me in two years a chance." Phoebe says.
Her words cut me deep, and make think I'm a horrible person.
Later that night I look at the paintings in Phoebe's book, and I look at Phoebe (who was my best friend for so long) and look for the beauty in her and in them. I was being so shallow. It was obviously there. And then I am ashamed it took me so long to find it.
Phoebe came out into the living room where Rachel was, and sat down next to her
"Hey"
"Hey Pheebs" I respond quietly. Almost to tears " where's mike, shouldn't he be home from work yet? Its late"
Phoebe spoke "mike…………"
Author's note: PLEASE REVIEW, in detail. Thanks.
IT WOULD MAKE ROSSRACHMONCHAN AND CELIA RAY'S DAY!
