Disclaimer: I don't own friends or any of the characters. Only this story and one minor OC.
My eyes welled up with tears, and I wiped them away. I sat on a bench while a family was having a picnic together at the park. The mother and grandmother put a tablecloth, with red-and-white squares, onto the table and unpacked the basket. The mother stood beside her son, who was sitting, reading a book.
The mother reached out her hand to give her son a gentle pat on the head and talked to him with a firm face, gesturing him to the containers of food, plates, and utensils they had just laid out. The boy looked up from his book and gave her a puppy dog face, begging her, like I did when I begged Nanny Jane to have a cookie before dinner or stay up past my bedtime. His mother smiled at him and patted his head. Her son went back to his book with a big smile on his face. His mother kissed his dark curly hair.
The father and the girl were closer to me, playing catch with a football. My father never wanted to play catch with me. When he did have time for me, he only wanted to play dress-up with feathered boas while singing and dancing around, so I played along to make him happy. I do like the songs we sing, so that helped a little. But now he left the family with the houseboy. I barely see him anymore. When I see him, it's him and mom fighting at home or the courthouse.
"Dad, wait! I want to go further!" The girl shouted as she ran backward until she was right before me. But I still couldn't see her face because her back was facing me. She has dark curly hair like her father and brother.
"Alright, sweetie!" The father yelled back at his daughter, gave her a thumbs up, and smiled at her. Then, when the girl was ready, with hands outreached to catch the ball, the father threw the football. And the girl jumped up and caught the ball, but not without falling and rolling onto the ground, like the players in an actual football game do.
"Touch down!" The girl yelled, still lying on the ground, and pumped her arms out. Her lips were grinning ear to ear, and her eyes matched her cheerful smile.
"Good job, Princess!" Her father clapped and jogged toward her, his head held high. He reached out a hand to his daughter to help her get up. The girl grabbed his hand and stood up. Her eyes landed on me for a moment, and she waved with a friendly smile, making my stomach flip and feel like butterflies flying around. I felt my cheeks burn as I waved back.
"Picnic's ready!" the grandmother called out to the father and the girl, waving them over. The girl ran over to the table with her father following behind.
At the table, the father wrapped his arms around the mother and gave her a peck on the lips. Then, they smiled at each other and gave each other more kisses. I never saw my parents do that with each other, but Mike and Carol Brady did. The boy and the girl shared grossed-out faces and pretended to gag, but I liked it. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. I got the same happy and sad feeling when watching The Brady Bunch. Before telling me about the divorce, my parents usually were either snippy or did these weird dances with our houseboys. Now they fought all the time and called each other names. They made me choose between them too.
Instead of picnics in the park, even before the divorce, my parents usually liked to avoid each other. My mother went on her book tours. When she was home, she wrote books that made my stomach icky when she read them out loud. My father always went to work or played golf at the country club. When he was home, he locked up in his room. I knew when he was home when I heard him singing. Once I saw him wearing a sparkly dress, singing and dancing around through a crack in his bedroom door. I wonder if the father over at the table also wore dresses and sang in his room. I have never seen Mike Brady or Ward Cleaver wear dresses. Maybe he's like them?
The family sat around the picnic table. My stomach grumbled, and my mouth watered when I saw the food in front of them. I want mac and cheese, with cut-up hotdogs, and a large glass of chocolate milk. They seem like a family I would like to have. The father played with his daughter's ponytail and made her laugh. The mother smiled adoringly at her son and wrapped her arm around his shoulders as he talked.
The grandmother paid a lot of attention to both of her grandchildren. She took an interest in whatever they were talking about, smiling at them kindly. My grandparents ignored me. They are all stern and always tell me children are to be seen, not heard, which I don't get. Why can I make sounds and talk like grown-up people do if I can't be heard? Maybe all the children in the world have to wear duct tape on their mouths and walk on their tippy toes while barefoot all the time then. I smiled and giggled at myself.
What I didn't understand were the boy and the girl. They stuck out their tongues, made ugly faces, and argued. But they passed each other a bag of chips or a piece of watermelon. They rolled their eyes when annoyed with whatever the other was saying and laughed with each other. Sometimes even smiled at each other. Was this what brothers and sisters do? The Brady kids fought but also, at times, they got along. Wally and the Beaver did that too. I wish I had a brother to play with or even a little sister I could protect.
My heart jolted when I noticed the girl running over to me.
"Hi, do you want a cookie?" The girl stood in front of me with a big smile on her face. I noticed in her hand a napkin with a chocolate chip cookie.
"Huh... sure." I smiled back and grabbed the cookie from her hand. I took a bite as she sat down by me. "Hmm, this is good! Thanks."
"Welcome, and thank you. I help my grandmother make them." The girl puffed out her chest. Her head held high.
"You should be a chef or a baker when you're all grown up!" I nodded at her and took another bite. This cookie is tasty.
Her face brightened, "Well, thank you… I love helping in the kitchen and playing with my Easy Bake oven," she smiled, and her cheeks became red.
"I'm Monica. What's your name?"
"Chandler!" I heard my name shouted out loud, and I turned to the voice and saw my nanny walking fast toward me with an angry gaze in her eyes.
"Huh… Sorry I need to go!" I told her quickly, ran over to the nanny, and accidentally dropped the cookie.
"Chandler Muriel Bing! Don't you run off like that? Your parents are looking for you and even calling the police." Nanny Jane gripped my shoulders and forcibly led me to the park exit. "The city is a dangerous place to run off like this!"
"I'm sorry…." I turned my head back over my shoulder to- what was her name again? and I saw her looking back at me curiously. Then, she sadly smiled and waved at me. I smiled, gave her a wave back, and then looked to the ground with tears in my eyes.
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