Also, the scenes I described of actual places are fabrications of my overly idealistic imagination.
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Ever since they'd returned from their vacation, the air around the apartment and between them had been different- lighter than before. They were like young lovers again. He'd catch her gazing longingly at him from across the table over dinner, and then she'd feel him brush firmly up against her (purposefully, no doubt) when he was clearing the dishes. Their eyes would meet at the most domestic and comfortable of moments, like when they were tucking their daughter in, igniting a reassuring spark to the moment, affirming that their lives were not so monotonous but actually something rather spectacular.
One night, when winter was just beginning to melt it's last layer of snow and biting cold away, the two were curled up in front of the fireplace in the living room, reading and watching television and drinking tea. Emma was already in bed for the night, and the balcony door was opened, letting the cool night breeze fan through the apartment. Surely there had never been a stiller, quieter, more peaceful moment.
Ross sat down the book he was reading and propped his feet up on the coffee table, glancing over to his right to find Rachel curled up in the big chair underneath the Indian afghan, fast asleep. Smiling, he muted the fashion show she'd been watching and got up from the couch, moving to lay down beside her in the cozy, oversized white chair.
He laid his face right beside hers, tucking the hair that had fallen across her face (as it always did) behind her ear. He rubbed his hand down her arm and settled it on her hip, taking a few subdued moments for himself to just stare are her and track her steady breathing while she slept. It wasn't too long before she felt his presence through her sleep and opened her eyes to find him laying there, staring back at her.
"Mmm, hi," she greeted, smiling warmly and closing her eyes again.
"You fell asleep on me," he noted.
"If I had really fallen asleep on you, I think you would know it," she punned. He rolled his eyes and she giggled.
"You think you're so funny."
"Well that's because I am, Sweety," she retaliated, always having a comeback, in true Rachel fashion.
It got quiet again, and the moments came and went, washing over them like warm water lapping at their skin. At one point, Ross got up and went into the kitchen to close the balcony door, but he came right back and resumed his former position, simply laying beside her in silence and breathing in the same air. When he did so, she lifted the afghan up as in invitation for him to crawl beneath it with her. He obliged, settling in next to her, intertwining their legs and draping an arm affectionately around her waist.
"Are we going to sleep out here?" she asked, settling her face into his chest and breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne, mixed with another distinct aroma that was totally, naturally him.
"We can," he submitted, "but we should go to bed soon. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
"It's Saturday," she reminded him, a bit thrown off by his comment. She racked her brain, trying to remember any plans they'd scheduled. She couldn't recall any. The crooked smile on his face told her he was up to something. "You're up to no good," she wagered, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"Maybe..." he chuckled.
"What time is your little surprise going to require me getting up?" she asked. "Because, you know, Emma doesn't have to be at her Saturday morning class until 11, and I hadn't-"
"Shhh." He lifted his finger to her lips. "Don't worry about a thing."
The way Ross said that somehow always immediately made all of her stress and anxiety disappear. Albeit, the gesture really held no more meaning or authority than when anyone else offered it, but the inextricable combination of his heartening tone and the soft promise of his eyes told her she really DIDN'T have to worry about a thing.
"You're amazing," she confided, sighing heavily but smiling. A little embarrassed at her sudden display of uninhibited emotion, she could literally feel tears coming to her eyes. This man never ceased to surprise and delight her. For as dull and predictable as some people saw her boyfriend being, he always managed to keep her on her toes- always guessing.
"That's what you're supposed to say AFTER I do this..." he trailed off, leaning in and placing a delicate yet firm kiss on her mouth. He bit down on her bottom lip a little, dragging his teeth over it and sucking on it gently before letting go. That was something else Ross was- gentle. He was so careful and protective with her. Sometimes, even in the privacy and solitude of their home, she felt like he was trying to shelter her from something.
"Come on," she whispered, getting up and taking his hand, leading him back into their bedroom.
She undressed him and then herself, sliding in underneath the substantial pile of blankets and duvets and comforters. She felt like protecting him tonight, bringing him to lay on top of her with his head resting against her breasts. She stroked his hair and his back. Now, it was her turn to watch and listen to him sleep.
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"Hey, hey, hey! Good morning Manhattan! Before you pack that picnic basket, be sure to grab an umbrella, because those rain clouds overhead are-"
Ross hit the alarm clock off with a raucous 'slam', pounding his palm against the snooze button and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Looking over to his left, he was surprised to see that the obnoxiously fervent radio jockey hadn't woken Rachel. 'Good thing,' he thought. He didn't even have to turn around to look out the window behind their bed to know it was raining. He could hear the heavy drops thumping against the pane. It was 8 a.m., and still the sun's rays hadn't encroached upon their bedroom. What a shitty day for his surprise.
Climbing into the shower, he considered how he might have to alter his initial plan. A lot of what he'd intended had involved being outside. There was no way he was going to cop out, now, though. He'd been at least subconsciously planning on doing this- or something very similar to it- for a long time. Actually, more accurately, he'd been putting this off for a very long time. No more.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and emerged from the bathroom, drying off his hair with a smaller one, to find Rachel sitting up in bed. She smiled at the image of 'her man', so fresh-smelling and clean, padding around their room in nothing but a makeshift sarong.
"Hey there," she greeted warmly. He smiled before walking into the closet.
"Hey yourself," he replied, shuffling through his wardrobe for a good combination of classy but casual.
He didn't want to overdue the outfit. Rachel paid very close attention to clothing- more so than he'd ever be able to fathom. If he went overboard with the outfit, she'd undoubtedly catch onto something. He finally settled on a dark brown pair of corduroys, a dark green long-sleeves shirt, and a light blue short-sleeves dress shirt over that. The layering added refinement, but still nothing too out of the ordinary. Plus, Rachel had previously told him she liked it when he wore a long-sleeved shirt with a short-sleeved dress shirt over it. Remembering little things like that were pricelessly important when attempting to charm a woman.
When he appeared from the closet, Rachel definitely took notice. She cocked an intrigued eyebrow and pushed back the covers, lifting herself from the bed and crossing the room to more closely examine him. She playfully straightened his collar and wiped some invisible debris from his shirt, just like she always did when she thought he was looking especially sharp. He smiled, pleased with himself.
"I feel so underdressed," she announced, leaning seductively into him and placing a small kiss on his neck. Ross looked down at what she was wearing- ah, the infamous 'black thing that he likes'. He smiled contentedly.
"Well, if this is underdressed, please, by all means..." he joked. She patted his chest and brushed passed him into the closet to pick up his damp, discarded towel. She was going to be nice this morning and not berate him for it.
"Where are you going, all dressed up?" she asked.
"Get dressed, you're coming, too," he recovered, craftily sidestepping the question. She looked captivated but skeptical.
"What? Where?"
"It's a surprise, I told you last night!" he reminded her, taking her by the shoulders, turning her around and steering her towards the bathroom. "Now, as much as I hate to see this go," he teased, referring to her nighty, "get in the shower and hurry up."
"Wait!" she protested. "What should I wear?"
"Anything you want. Where we're going doesn't have a dress code."
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"Ross, this is silly," she insisted. He'd refused to let her leave the apartment without wearing the blindfold. She felt ridiculous, not to mention slightly annoyed, since they'd been riding in this cab for a good 20 minutes.
"Just a few more blocks," he assured.
Finally, the cab screeched to a halt once they'd reached their destination. Ross paid the cabbie and guided Rachel from the car and onto the sidewalk. She could tell they were still in a prominent area of the city because she heard the honking of horns and could feel the buzz of energy coming off the hoards of people surrounding her. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently encouraged her to walk forwards.
"Are people staring?" she asked, already knowing the answer too well, though. He chuckled. Classic Rachel.
"Don't worry about them." He dismissed her enquiry by briefly massaging her shoulders as he steered her forward. She felt his touch leave her momentarily and she almost panicked until she felt him grab her hand and pull her into a building, holding the door for her.
Her shoes clicked against a hard, polished granite when they stepped inside the foyer of the building, and the noise reverberated off the walls, telling her they must be in sizable room with raised ceilings. It was most likely some commercial local- like a restaurant or theater.
"Listen, I'm going to have to leave you for a few minutes," he informed.
"Ross, no! You're not going to leave me in a strange place with this stupid thing on my head! No!" She protested, obviously, just as he'd expected her to. He took both her hands in his and squeezed them comfortingly, placing a kiss on her knuckles.
"Don't worry, I'll only be a few minutes. Just don't go anywhere," he instructed, immediately realizing how ridiculous that sounded.
"Funny," she deadpanned, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. "This had better be worth it," she scolded.
'If she only knew,' he thought to himself, before stepping away from her, leaving her to standing alone in the corner of the lobby.
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'That's it,' she thought. 'If he's not back in the next minute, I'm taking this damn thing off."
Rachel obviously couldn't check her watch, but she could ballpark the amount of time Ross had been gone, and it was definitely more than 'a few minutes'. She was getting antsy. She was anxious and excited and scared about whatever it was he had in store for her. It wasn't helping the knot in her stomach that she didn't know where the hell she was, either.
One kind of odd thing she had noticed, however, was the apparent lack of activity around her. Wherever they were, they seemed to be more-or-less alone, save the sporadic couple of people she could vaguely hear chatting as they walked by every few minutes. Just as she was about to literally pull the 'blinders' from in front of her eyes, she felt a hand touch her arm.
"Sorry," he whispered. She sighed, relieved he'd returned to her, but also more than a little annoyed.
"I sure hope you're okay," she began, "because, as soon as you take this thing off me, I'm going to kick your ass."
"Oh, I don't think so," he replied knowingly, and she could hear the smile accompanying his tone. It reassured her.
"So what's the deal?" she sighed. "Can I take this thing off yet, or what?" Preemptively, she reached up and took the fabric in her hands. She stopped her.
"Wait," he commanded. "Before you do, I have to give you your instructions."
"My instructions?" she asked.
"Yeah, see, there are a few rules to the game..."
"What game?" She was becoming increasingly curious. Game? What was he up to? Whatever it was, he was being especially shrewd with his hint-giving.
"First, when I say to take off the blindfold, you have to keep your eyes closed for 10 more seconds," he informed. "I wont be here when you open them."
"What!" she exclaimed, possibly a bit loudly and more harshly than she'd intended.
"Shhh," he chuckled, more than slightly amused at her confusion. He placed his hand on her arm. "That brings me to the second thing. When you do open your eyes, there'll be a white envelop on the counter to your left. Open it and do what it says."
"Ross, this is-"
"Just trust me," he interrupted, not allowing her to say anything negative about his well-constructed, elaborate plan.
"Fine. Anything else?" she asked begrudgingly, finally giving into the fact that Ross had, somehow, talked her into this.
"Yeah..." he whispered. She felt both his hands steady themselves on her waist, right before his smooth, warm lips caressed hers lightly. "I love you," he whispered against her ear. Before she could react, he'd pulled away. "Now, take off the blindfold."
And when she did, as expected, he was nowhere to be seen.
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The sight Rachel opened her eyes to literally winded her. She must have looked like a fool- standing there with her mouth agape, glaring in wonderment at the scene surrounding her.
She was standing in the middle of the Plaza's new solarium room.
All around her, vines, trees, and flowers whined their way around every crevice of the room. In the center in front of her, there was a giant waterfall that gave way to a babbling brook, accented by stone walkways and walls. Overhead, the rain outside beat down on a gigantic glass done.
Once she'd collected herself, she remembered the 'instructions' Ross had given her, and gathered the presence of mind to walk over to the counter to her left. It was actually the Information Desk, but no attendant was monitoring it. Sitting atop the black granite counter was a simple white envelop, accompanied by a vase of purple and white lilies. She opened the letter and read its contents.
Rachel,
Thought I'd mix things up and start at the end.
For now, though, let's travel back in time, starting with where it all began. I'll spare you the trip to Long Island.
Ross
Ah, a scavenger hunt. Rachel shook her head and smiled. She should have known. Ross would settle for nothing less romantic or cliche.
Now, a beginning for them that wasn't on Long Island...
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Stepping inside the double doors of Central Perk, doused in rain and squeezing the excess water from her hair, Rachel almost laughed aloud when she saw the wedding dress laid across the counter with a matching white envelop. At least she'd made it to the second hint.
She smiled at Gunther as she made her way to the bar.
"Rachel!" he all but yelled.
"Hi, Sweety," she greeted. She'd missed this man- this place. Glancing over at the couch, she felt a sharp emptiness in her gut at the sight of four strangers sitting on the couch. Sensing her sadness, Gunther offered his own form of condolence.
"They're not as fun as you guys," he grinned warmly. She patted his arm.
"Aw, thank you, Honey. So Ross was here earlier, huh?"
"Yup," he confirmed, gesturing towards the dress. "He asked me to put this out around noon. You guys getting married?" he asked, an overbearing hint of regret and sorrow tainting his voice. Her heart broke a little for his endless crush on her.
"Not to my knowledge," she tried to joke.
"Well, he left you this letter." He picked it up and handed it to her, smiling one last time before disappearing into the back.
Rachel,
This place witnessed so many of our firsts. Here's hoping there wont be any lasts.
Tell Gunther I owe him one.
Home to no one but us.
Ross
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Rachel scaled those stairs slowly, remembering the last time she descended them and how she'd thought she'd never come back again.
Standing alone, in that moment, in the interstice between those two faithful apartments, she'd never felt so small or lonely.
Knowing they both belonged to someone else now- that she could not knock on either without being met by unfamiliar, unwelcoming faces- she felt like crying. She knew complete strangers were living behind those walls, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her vomit. She felt a hot tear slide down her cheek.
Ross was right, though. It would never be home to anyone but them.
Looking down beside that door she'd stumbled into on so many nights with Ross, so many years ago, she found another one of his letters. That made her smile- like some part of them would always be here, even when the current tenants didn't know it.
Rach,
I bet you'd give your right arm to hear that duck quaking now, huh?
I met the new people when I dropped this off last night. Despite what I know we'd all like to believe, they're actually very nice. They could spend the rest of their lives here, though, and never know this place like we do.
Monica told me you'd kill me for this next one, and she's probably right, but it has to be done. It's a part of us- a big part. I know we agreed to put it behind us forever, but I'll never stop being sorry.
Ross
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As Rachel approached the small storefront, she held her breath and peeked through the window. Closing her eyes, she sighed thankfully when she saw the sole person working behind the counter to be an elderly man. She didn't know what she could have done if it had been her.
Entering the store, she saw her letter sitting on the counter, and she knew she'd guessed correctly. Unlike all the others, she'd had doubts about this one. She didn't know if he actually had the balls to bring this back up. He was right, though- it was a big part of them. If he was trying to recreate their chronology together, there was really no avoiding this subject. It was their greatest divider and merger- enfeebler and strengthener.
"Hi, my name's Rachel," she smiled sweetly to the old man. "I think this envelope's for me."
"Oh, yes, of course!" he cheerfully acknowledged. "A tall, young fella' dropped it off here yesterday and said to just leave it out for ya' around 1. Must be some real special occasion, huh?" he smiled, and, despite Rachel's mixed feelings about her current location, she couldn't help but smile warmly back.
"Must be." He nodded and handed her the letter.
Rach,
"There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer, no disease that enough love will not heal, no door that enough love will not bridge, no wall that enough love will not throw down, no sin that enough love will not redeem... It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble, how hopeless the outlook, how muddled the tangle, how great the mistake. A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.
If only you could love enough, you could be the happiest and most powerful being in the world..." -Emmett Fox
Okay, so Monica found the quote for me. Thank you for loving me enough to forgive me and make me the happiest and most powerful man in the world.
I know you didn't feel much like a mother, but I'd never seen you as more of one.
Ross
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Rachel walked into the lobby of her doctor's office. By this time, it was approaching 2 p.m., and she knew the office probably closed sometime within the next hour or so. She wasn't even entirely sure she'd guessed right this time, but that first sonogram when she hadn't been able to identify Emma was the first thing that had popped into her mind when she'd read Ross' note.
Her doubts grew when she didn't see the tell-tale white envelop anywhere. She approached the secretary at the front desk.
"Hi, my name's Rachel Green."
"Do you have an appointment?" he heavy-set woman grunted.
"Oh, uh, no, but I was just wondering, you wouldn't happen to have a small white envelop for me, would you?" she asked, hopefully. The woman glared questioningly at her for a few long seconds before answering.
"A tall, dark-haired guy drop it off?"
"Yeah!" she almost squealed. "Yeah, that's-that's for me." Obviously annoyed, the large woman pulled the letter out from behind the counter and handed it to her. This one had her name written in gold ink across the front, rather than black Sharpie, like all the others. Rachel thanked her and sat down on the leather love seat in the corner of the waiting room to open it. When she did, a small key fell out.
Rach,
I know the Obstetrician's office is a pretty big trek from the copy place, but I couldn't leave our Emma out of the timeline, could I?
Don't worry, the next place is the last.
I hope it's been worth the wait.
Ross
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Rachel had no doubts about the validity of this one. The last line had been a dead giveaway. She'd uttered those words herself so many years ago- she knew their connotations exactly.
When she'd stepped out of the cab, the rain had not yet relented, so she'd run for the overhang in front of the museum. After tugging on the locked glass door a few times and almost giving up completely, she realized what the key was for and inserted it into the hole.
Stepping into the entrance hall of the museum, memories came flooding back to her. She remembered walking into this hall 8 years ago, hand-in-hand with Ross, beaming with pride as his co-workers gawked at them. She'd been so proud to finally call herself 'his girlfriend'.
Now, it looked much different with all the lights off and her standing there alone, drenched, cold and confused as to what came next.
Before she had time to really worry, though, she noticed the vase of lilies sitting on the circular glass table in the center of the room. Walking over to it, however, she was surprised to find no envelop. What she did find was a trail of lily pedals on the ground. They led through the big, black double-doors directly in front of her.
She sighed deeply, unable to stifle the enormous smile that was creeping across her face. She felt her hands tremble, and goosebumps prickle all over her skin. No matter what he had in store, Ross was waiting for her beyond that door, and that notion, for some reason, was exciting her more than the prospect of anything else.
She urged herself forward and through the doors.
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Everything hit her at once. For the first time in her life- maybe the first time in anyone's life - every sensory perception she had was alive and processing at the same time. Everything hit her at once, and she took it all in simultaneously. She wasn't missing even one, miniscule detail.
The dimmed lights. The hundreds of candles. The thousands of lilies. The soft music. The man standing before her, in the center of the room.
The message written in the stars.
Will you marry me?
If she had been thinking coherently, she would have hated herself for reacting so completely predictably and...well...Rachely. She WASN'T thinking coherently, though- not even close. So she let the tears flow, and her shoulders shake with her sobs, and she let her eyes lock with his. The scene was much like that of her return from the airport, but the senses even MORE hightened (if that were possible) and the moment even more surreal.
Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm And your cheeks so soft There is nothing for me but to love you And the way you look tonight
He approached her, smiling.
"I'd sing along but, uh, I can't carry a tune," he admitted.
"I know," she nodded jokingly, smiling in return and reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. He just stood there in front of her for a few seconds, existing with her inside the moment- taking it in with her. During one instance, he reached up and caught some of the tears for her, and she placed her hand over his on her cheek. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
"So?" he asked, and his heart actually stopped.
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