A Compromise

Monica and Emily did not talk to each other again that weekend. Monica avoided asking Rachel what she said to Emily and Rachel hadn't volunteered any information. When she had finally succumbed, and asked Rachel for information, she had merely said that Emily was fine, and no, they hadn't talked about Monica and incidentally, had she seen Rachel's other shoe.

It was so awkward. This was the first disagreement of any kind that she and Emily had had and as with anyone she didn't know well, it made her nervous, especially when she wasn't completely confident that she was right. At least not completely right. She was completely right about cooking, but she had been forced to acknowledge that it was difficult, or at least difficult to achieve the proper standard. Maybe, just maybe, teaching someone meant settling for less, to begin with. Emily might have to make mistakes, but it was excruciating for Monica to have to watch them.

On Monday afternoon, Ross called Monica and said,

"Are you free tonight?"

"Sure," Monica said.

"We'd like you to come over and have dinner with us." Not sure how much of the disagreement had worked its way to Ross, who didn't sound like he'd heard anything at all, she said,

"That would be nice." She wondered what they were going to be eating.

"You could bring Rachel along if you like," Ross said.

"Fine, I'll ask her when she gets home," Monica said, feeling relieved. Rachel would make a good fourth.

So in some apprehension, she and Rachel turned up for dinner.

"Emily's done a great job," Ross said as they arrived, "She made it all herself."

"Oh," Monica said faintly.

"You've taught her so well," Ross said, "I've been looking forward to this all day."

"It's just a pasta sauce," Emily said, "And a cake."

"Oh, Joey would be sorry to have missed that," Rachel said. "He was looking forward to having cake on Saturday."

"He's already been by," Emily said. "He ate half of one already."

"He ate a half of a whole cake?" Monica was feeling shy, but this statement had to be questioned.

"Yes. It didn't rise very well. At all in fact. He said it was still cake and maybe it wouldn't be so fattening." There was a pause as each of them considered the sense of this.

"What did you do with the other half?" Rachel asked.

"He took it away with him, but I really think he should throw it away. It can't be at all nice to eat. But this one looks better. I realise what I did wrong, so it rose."

"Well, trial and error can sometimes do the trick," Monica said, hoping that number of errors she'd be subjected to was as low as possible.

"Come on," Ross said, "Sit down and we'll get started." So they sat round the table and had dinner, which wasn't the worst meal Monica had ever had. In the salad bowl, inexpertly mixed together, she saw the signs of her own work – nice crisp vegetables selected from the market that she wouldn't be ashamed to use, and afterwards, with cake that was a lot better than the one Joey had sampled, Monica said,

"Well, you've made a good start here."

"It worked anyway," Emily said, "Though we can't have pasta every night because that would be boring."

"That's fine," Ross said, "Monica will teach you something else soon." Monica and Emily exchanged a look. So Emily hadn't said anything to Ross.

"Er yes," Monica said. "This is only the beginning." Emily followed on closely with,

"Actually Ross, Monica is too advanced for me. I'm not a very good student, and I don't want to bother her, so I signed up for some classes which start next week."

"What?" Ross frowned.

"Oh Emily, you're not a bother," Monica said.

"I'm afraid I am," she said.

"No, no, no. Really, you're not. It's just – I didn't realise how little you knew."

"Even though you caught me burning water," Emily smiled.

"Burning water?" Rachel interjected, "How do you burn water?"

"I'll tell you when you work out what simmering is," Monica said.

The End