Dead Letter Office

Monica slipped her coat on and turned around to look at her sous chef, Javier. "You sure you're okay with finishing up tonight?"

Javier nodded, without looking up from his task, as he drizzled balsamic glaze over the three cuts of pork loin that were fanned out on the plate before him. "We should be fine."

Monica pulled her keys out of her purse and craned her neck so she could take one more look at the customers in the lobby. Satisfied that everything looked to be under control she let out a deep breath and turned to leave. "Okay. I'm only fifteen minutes away, so don't hesitate to call my cell phone if something comes up."

"I promise you, we will take care of everything tonight. Don't worry."

Monica nodded one more time and then stepped out the backdoor that led into the parking lot. She pulled out a small, yellow notepad from her coat pocket and looked at it as she approached her car. Her eyes fell to the next two bullet points that she had scribbled down the night she and Chandler decided to adopt again.

"3 – Reference Letters. 4 – Home Study".

She kept this short list on her at all times. Constantly referencing it, whenever she found herself with a minute to spare, as she would fill out paperwork or organize financial records. Even though Monica now knew what would be involved with the adoption process this time around, she still worried that they would not be properly prepared when the time came to hand everything in. She looked down at the pad one more time before placing it in her purse and ran her finger across the page, drawing an invisible line under "reference letter". She smiled and then got into her car and started the engine.

Monica had been focusing much of her attention on the adoption lately, but ever since she and Chandler had dinner with Phoebe and Mike, when they announced that Phoebe was pregnant again, a fire grew inside Monica's belly. She was determined to dive into the adoption process head on and get on that waiting list faster than anyone else had in the history of adoption. She did not want to waste any time. There was a baby out there that was going to need a home, and she could think of no home better than the one she and Chandler have made together.

She became fixated on her new objective in every spare moment she could find. Even tonight, when she noticed the dinner crowd waning, she immediately thought about something she could be doing to achieve her goal. She knew that the rest of the evening would be manageable for her staff, so she decided to duck out early. Go home, break out the binder and start organizing the copies of the reference letters she had already received from Ross and Mike earlier in the week.

She looked down at a letter that was resting on the passenger seat and touched with her fingertips. She was pleasantly surprised when it arrived with the rest of the mail at work today. She knew that this was, perhaps, the most important letter they would receive. This unassuming, little thing that was lying there next to her, folded neatly inside the envelope.

She was amazed at how quickly it came. It was only a few days ago when she solicited it from the sender. She knew that the speed in which it was completed meant that the author of the letter treated it with great importance. Monica felt slightly guilty, having it delivered to the restaurant instead of to her house, but she had to ensure she got it before Chandler did, so she could be there when he read it for the first time. She needed to provide context for the identity of the person who sent it and what the letter was truly about. Of course, Monica had already read the letter a few times. She was never going to be able to wait until she got home. She had to know what was inside. She chuckled to herself and she thought how funny it was, that this all started because of a conversation about Chandler's lousy taste in food.

Monica was able to leave the restaurant early, it was Monday, and it has proven to be their slowest night during the fall months. She was toying with the idea of closing the restaurant entirely on Mondays and save some money on the overhead required to operate the business for one day, especially with such a low percentage of ever seeing a return on that investment. That was a conversation though, for another day. Tonight, she was going to surprise her family and join them for dinner and bath time. Something she had not been able to do since early last week.

When she entered the house, she heard music playing from the den. She looked around, but found no one in there, although the mess of toys strewn about the room let her know that her family was occupying that space at some point today. She was about to call out, when her ears pricked up as she heard what sounded like her husband's voice, coming from the kitchen. Moreover, it sounded like he was singing.

She slowly crept down the hall and peeked inside to see the twins, sitting in their highchairs, distracted with some sliced fruit and yogurt. She shook her head, aghast at how messy their faces were. She knew she shouldn't be too shocked though; sticky babies had become fairly standard when Chandler was in charge of mealtime. Monica was always ready with a face wipe to quickly clean a dribbled chin or wet fingers. Chandler, on the other hand, seemed content to let them wear more food on their faces than they ate.

She folded her arms and leaned against the frame to the entryway as she turned her attention to her husband. Chandler had his back to her while he worked on whatever he was making on the stove. He was singing, but he obviously did not know the words, as most of the sounds from his mouth were mumbles and hums as he tried to hold a tune. He stopped and turned off the burner on the stove. "I'll tell you guys, this Steely Dan CD your uncle Mike lent me is really good. He was right, they are pretty great." He started to sing nonsensical words again and Monica had to cover her mouth to suppress a laugh. "I'm almost done here with my masterpiece. Now don't tell your mother because I don't know if she wants me to share this with you, but as long as she isn't here, we should be free and clear."

Monica decided to take this opportunity to clear her throat and she quietly giggled as she saw Chandler stiffen up.

"Or, you guys could let her sneak in the house and not tell me so I get in trouble."

"You don't need them to get you into trouble, you do that pretty well on your own." Monica stepped into the kitchen and turned to smile at Jack and Erica, who were still shoving broken pieces of fruit into their mouths.

Erica was the first to react as she stretched her hand out towards Monica. "Mama!" Jack kept his focus on his food, and grunted as his fingers made their way into his mouth.

Monica snatched the container of wipes from the kitchen table and pulled one out as she sat down next to Erica. She quickly cleaned her hands and face and then placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "Hello there, baby girl. Do I get a mama from you Jack?"

Jack turned his head and glanced at Monica, but quickly looked back down as he tried to master using his spoon so he could cram more yogurt into his mouth. "Food always comes first, huh, Jack?"

Chandler laughed. "I guess he takes after…"

Monica cut her husband off as she wagged her finger at him. "Don't say it!" She turned her attention back to her son and started to wipe Jack's face as he fussed and tried to dodge the wet cloth. "So, what is this mystery meal that you are cooking up for your children behind my back?"

Chandler turned around sheepishly as he held to pot in his hand and lifted the wooden spoon out of it. "My specialty." He reluctantly tilted the pot down so she could see the contents inside.

Monica immediately screwed up her face in disgust as her nose twitched. "Ugh. Macaroni and cheese with hot dogs?"

Chandler returned the pot to the stove and placed the spoon down next to the sink. Monica shuddered a bit, as she noted he did not use a spoon rest. "It was this or grilled cheese."

Monica huffed. "Chandler! I have meals set up for you in the freezer. All you have to do is follow the instructions for it. I even labeled them for each day." She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. She slid the door to the freezer open and started to pull out small tins of food. "Lasagna, beef stew, chicken legs, eggplant. Why did you insist on making that terrible concoction?"

"I wanted to share one of my favorite meals with the kids. You used to make it for me."

"That was before we got married and I could legally tell you what to eat." Monica put the frozen food back into the freezer and slowly closed the door. "I don't want the kids to eat that yet. I've got their food set up in the fridge." She opened the door and started to point at different containers that were neatly arranged on the shelf. "Sweet potatoes, corn, green beans, this one has apples and chicken in it. They start eating that junk they'll never eat the healthy stuff again."

Chandler reached into a cabinet and pulled down four bowls. "Oh come on. I grew up on this stuff and I'm pretty healthy."

"You get winded when you take the garbage cans out to the curb."

"Our driveway is very long!"

Monica looked at the bowls that Chandler had set aside. "What are you doing? Those aren't the right bowls. You have to use the small plastic Sesame Street bowls." She pushed him aside gently and reached into the cabinet. "Here. Just give them the mac and cheese, lets hold off on hot dogs, okay?" Chandler grumbled as he reluctantly nodded.

Monica leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

"Do you want any?"

"No, I ate at the restaurant before I left. Plus, I really hate that. How can you eat it?"

"Are you kidding? I survived my entire childhood on this stuff."

"I can't believe Ross let you cook this in the room. He hates how it smells when you boil hot dogs."

Chandler carefully spooned out some macaroni and placed a small portion in each of the two bowls Monica had set aside for Jack and Erica. "What? Oh no, I was making this long before college."

"Really?"

Chandler walked across the kitchen and placed the bowls in front of Jack and Erica as he offered up a crooked smile to them. "Eat up kids!"

Erica prodded at the contents of the bowl for a few seconds, her face almost matched Monica's as she eyed the food suspiciously. Jack looked up at his father. "Eee! Eee!" and started to shovel the cheese covered pasta into his mouth.

Monica sat down next to them and pulled the bowl away from Jack and grabbed his spoon. "Jack! Not so much. Slow down!" She wiped his chin with a wet cloth and then offered him a piece of macaroni from the spoon. "So, when did you create this masterpiece?"

Chandler turned around and leaned up against the counter. "I think I ate this for the first time when I was nine? Maybe ten."

"Really? Is that why this is one of your favorites? Because your mom made this for you when you were a kid."

Chandler smiled slowly as he looked down. Monica instantly recognized this smile. It was the smile Chandler flashed her when he was trying to downplay something that made him angry or sad. He has used this smile many times with her. Always trying to reassure her he was fine, or that whatever he was going to say did not mean too much to him, when in fact, it was usually the opposite. Every time she saw that smile, it only made her worry more about him.

"No, my mom wasn't exactly the cooking dinner at home kind of mom."

Monica kept her focus on feeding Jack and only offered her husband a quiet, "Oh" in response.

"When my mom and dad got divorced, and dad moved away, I was, kind of on my own most days. At least I was until my mom finally sent me off to boarding school. I couldn't really make much as far as food was concerned, but boxed mac and cheese and hot dogs were easy. Grilled cheese and pasta too." Chandler slowly served himself some food and brought it over to the table.

Monica reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

He looked up at his wife with that same crooked smile he always flashed when he tried to cover up something that was bothering him. He in turn could see the concern in her eyes and tried his best to reassure her he was fine. "What? Oh, it wasn't that bad. I had the whole place to myself. It was a blast. Do you know how many kids would have killed to be able to eat macaroni and cheese every day while they stayed up late watching R rated movies all night?"

Monica tilted her head sympathetically and then leaned over to give her husband a kiss. She then looked down at his bowl. "So, you never ate any vegetables?"

"I made popcorn. Corn is a vegetable? Right?"

Monica pulled into the driveway, and before shutting off the engine, she turned the radio and heat off. She hated when Chandler drove because he would leave everything on. Then, in the morning, when she started the car, cold air would blow out of the vents onto her while the radio loudly played some classic rock song from the local station. Every time without fail. Sometimes, if it rained the night before, the windshield wipers would begin to sway back and forth, creating an unpleasant sound as the rubber edge dragged along the windshield. Why he couldn't see how much more efficient it was to do it her way, and shut everything off when he got home, was beyond her.

She collected her things and then reached into her purse to pull out her house keys. She was glad to be home, and couldn't wait to change out of her work clothes and finish up the adoption paperwork. She reached over and picked up the letter she had placed on the passenger seat. "You're going to work. You have to."

She looked down at it one more time and then smiled as she slid the paper out and unfolded it. She took her time reading it, knowing how much care the author put into writing it. She found that it was awkward at first, when she asked them to write this for her. She wasn't sure if she was actually going to go through with it when she finally reached out to talk to them. Monica has always been determined to get what she wants, but she was also never too comfortable being forceful with people that she wanted to like her.

She frowned a bit, wondering what would happen if everyone discovered her devious plan. If they realized she was being deceitful, would they be angry, even though in the end, it made everything better? She wasn't sure. All she did know, was that when she read this letter, it made her heart melt.

Chandler was washing up the dishes and Monica joined him to dry. She noticed as she placed a plate back into the cabinet that he was still quietly humming the song he was playing earlier when she got home. She couldn't help but nudge him playfully as she smiled. "You and Mike really seem to be hitting it off."

"I know. I don't really want a new friend. Who has time for that? But he lent me his VHS copy of 'Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park'. I haven't seen that since I was a kid."

"Well, Phoebe certainly is thrilled you guys like so many of the same things."

"Really? Aww."

"No. Not really. It is killing her to think she married a Chandler clone."

"Oh, okay. Ouch."

Monica chuckled and ran her hand up and down his arm reassuringly. "Oh no sweetie. I didn't mean it like that. It's just, well you know Phoebe. She likes to think she is unique, and finding out that her husband is pretty much just like any other husband is bumming her out."

"She probably makes him do weird sex stuff though to compensate."

"We are not having sex in the car."

Chandler frowned and continued rinsing off some cutlery. "Okay."

Monica looked over her shoulder at her children who seemed content to sit and play in their high chairs. "Did you already give them a bath?"

"No. Why would I give them a bath before dinner?"

"Well if you haven't given them a bath, then why is Jack wearing his pajama top?"

Chandler turned his head to look at his son. "That's not his pajama top. That's his lion shirt."

"Uh, no. That's his lion pajama top. What drawer did you get them out of?"

"The, uh, drawer, that had clothes in it."

"Do you need me to go over the system with you again?"

"Are you telling me that he has a lion on a regular shirt and a lion on his pajama top? That's just setting me up to fail."

Monica sighed heavily and reached her hand out for another clean plate to dry. "So, uh, about before. Did you make yourself dinner a lot when you were a kid?"

Chandler nodded. "Pretty much every night. My dad was gone and my mom always had something. An interview, a book signing, a date. Sometimes she would have to go out of town for a few nights."

"Didn't anyone watch you?"

"I was pretty good at taking care of myself. I even did my own laundry."

"I saw how you did laundry when you first moved into the building. You must have been a disaster."

Chandler shrugged his shoulders. "Well, my clothes were probably what Rachel would call shabby chic."

"Or maybe just shabby." Monica looked down at the plate she was drying and sniffled a bit. Chandler looked over and put his arm around her. "Hey, what's wrong."

"I don't know. I guess, that it just makes me sad. To think of you, that young, all on your own all the time." She turned around to look at Jack and Erica again.

"Hey. That's not going to happen to them."

She let out a watery chuckle and leaned her head against him. "I worry sometimes with how much I work at the restaurant and then if we get another baby…"

Chandler cut her off with a kiss to the side of her forehead. "Being busy is not the same as not being around."

"Maybe your mom thought that too. Maybe she just thought she was busy."

"It was different. With my mom, it was more like we were roommates. She didn't really have that motherly instinct. You're not like that. You're a great mom. You kiss away bumps and wipe noses and do all that stuff my mom never did."

Monica nodded slowly and then placed the dish towel down on the counter. "Have you ever talked to her about that?"

"What? No. Anyway, I think she likes it this way too. She's like a cool aunt instead of a mom. She comes and goes at her own convenience. You're not worried about me, are you? I won't be like her. I'll make sure they know how much they mean to me. How much you all mean to me. I hope I do that now."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Of course, you do. I just wish you weren't so obnoxious about it at times, but we know. Are you saying you didn't know back then how much you meant to your mother?"

"Sometimes, I don't really know right now if I mean anything to her."

Monica brought her hand up to her face and studied her husband as he washed out a drinking glass. She then looked over at the children once more. "They're really lucky to have you."

Chandler smiled and looked down at the empty sink. "I'm the lucky one."

Monica kissed his shoulder. "We are all lucky." She straightened up and wiped under her eyes. "Hey, why don't you get the kids upstairs for their bath and I'll join you in a few minutes."

"Sure. Maybe when they go to bed, we can have a bath of our own, minus the tub and the water." Monica looked at him, her eyes expressing how confused she was at his words. "I'm asking for s-e-x."

"Ahh, okay. Did not get that."

Chandler walked over and disconnected the trays from the two high-chairs. "Okay, who wants to walk upstairs and who wants to be carried?" Erica immediately demanded to be put down on the floor with a series of frustrated grunts. Jack reached his arms up to his father, always preferring to be carried.

Monica chuckled. "Who would have guessed it."

She listened as they slowly shambled up the stairs. Chandler was holding Erica's hand as she tried to navigate the steps. Jack was holding his arms tightly around his father's neck. Chandler called down, affecting his voice to make it sound as if he were being choked. "You're coming up soon right?"

"Yes. I just want to put this stuff away." Monica walked across the room and snatched the toys that her children left behind. She looked over at the far wall and stared at the phone. Her face filled with worry as she contemplated her next move. She shook her head as if to dismiss her own thoughts and walked out of the kitchen, only to walk right back in again and snatch the phone from the receiver.

"Hello? Hi. It's Monica. I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Monica made her way inside and could hear the faint sound of the television playing from the living room. She looked in on Chandler, who was sitting on the couch, half-reading a book and half-watching TV. He perked up when he saw her. "Hey. You're home early."

"Yeah. It was slow and I thought maybe I would put the copies of the letters that I sent over to the agency in the binder. What are you doing?"

"They're replaying Joey's show on the food network. This is the one where he eats that really spicy taco."

Monica nodded and exhaled a laugh. "This is a good one." She kicked off her shoes and slid onto the arm of the chair, putting her arm around Chandler and mindlessly playing with the fabric of his shirt as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "How was everything here?"

"Good. It only took three tries to get Erica to go to sleep."

"She is going to be trouble."

Chandler slid his arm around Monica's waist and pulled her closer to him. "You already mailed in the letters?"

"Yep. Next step is the home visit."

Chandler looked up at her and rested his head on her hip. "Nervous?"

"Always."

"Me too."

Monica then sat up straight and looked over at her purse. "Oh, hey. I have this other letter here."

"Another letter? Don't you think that's overkill?"

Monica hopped of the arm of the couch and walked over to retrieve the letter. "Well, this one isn't for the adoption agency."

"Who is it for?"

"You." She handed the letter to him, and he looked up at her, his face riddled with confusion. "Just open it."

Chandler opened the flap and pulled out the two-page letter slowly. "I don't understand. Who wrote this?" Monica pointed at the name at bottom of the letter. "My mom? I don't understand."

"I thought maybe you needed to know how much you meant."

Chandler held the letter down in his lap and shook his head. "What?"

Monica sat back down on the arm of the chair, placing her hands on both of his shoulders. "Will you read the stupid, beautiful letter your mother wrote about you! I'm trying to create a moment here, and you are sort of ruining it!"

Chandler laughed and held the letter up. "You did this?"

Monica just pointed back at the letter and narrowed her eyes at her husband. As he started to read, Monica looked off to the side as her mind snagged on a memory from a few years ago.

Monica opened the door to her apartment and was startled to see that her mother on the other side. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"What? I can't visit my daughter?"

"No, it's just, well, I was just on my way out to meet Chandler for lunch."

"Oh, I know. I just spoke with him before I drove in. I thought I would take you to lunch instead."

Monica looked confused, but nodded and stepped out into the hall. "Oh, okay."

Judy smiled at her daughter and then shifted her purse to a more comfortable position under her arm. "And then, I was thinking, maybe after lunch we could go shopping."

Monica shrugged her shoulders the two women began their descent down the stairs. "All right. Did you need something?"

"No dear. Not for me. For you. I want to buy you a wedding dress."

Monica stopped mid-step and looked over at her mother. "What?"

Judy placed her hand on her daughter's arm and guided her down the stairs. "Well, Chandler told me you had to return the one you picked out recently. That's what happens when you buy off the rack dear. They never fit right., I made a few appointments at a couple of little shops here in the village. I'm sure we will find you something."

"But I thought there was no money?"

Judy pulled her daughter close to her as they stepped out onto the street. "Let's just say that I found a little bit under the mattress."

Monica stepped out from behind the curtain and her mother smiled the instant she saw her daughter. "Oh Monica. You look gorgeous. I think that is the one."

"Really?"

"Yes. Here, look." Judy grabbed Monica by her shoulders and steered her towards the full-length mirror. "You're practically a vision."

Monica studied herself for a few moments and smiled. "It does look amazing." She then looked at her mother's reflection in the mirror and tilted her head. "Mom. Are you feeling all right?"

"Why of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

"It's just that, well, we don't do things like this."

Judy stepped away and sat down on the couch in the fitting room. "Can't a mother just want to buy her daughter a wedding dress?"

"Sure but…"

"I just know how important it is to get this right. I was a bride too you know. You only get married once. Unless you are your brother of course." Both women laughed and then shook their heads sympathetically as they thought of Ross.

Monica looked over at her mother. "You really think I'll only need one dress?"

Judy took her daughter's hand in hers and smiled. "Yes dear, I do. And I just wanted to say, I am really proud of you."

"Okay, now I am worried about you. Did you eat enough for lunch? Because if you're feeling light-headed, I'm sure they have something here."

Judy waved her hand to dismiss her daughter's concern and laughed. "Pish! Can't a mother be proud of her daughter."

"Sure. A mother can. My mother? Not so much."

Judy bobbed her head side-to-side and allowed a slight frown to spread across her lips. "Well, certain things have been brought to light for me recently."

"What kind of things?"

Judy sighed. "Well, okay. Remember when we went to lunch last year? It was after the holidays?" Monica nodded. "Chandler and I had a little, ah, shall we say, chat. He just made me realize some things."

Monica wrinkled her brow as she turned to face her mother. "Really?"

"Oh, don't do that dear. You'll make worry lines all across your forehead." Monica huffed and blew some of her hair from her face. Judy took a quick sip from the mimosa she held in her hand. "At first, I was a little insulted, but, well, something your father said to me a few weeks ago had me thinking about it again. I know now that maybe I've been hard on you at times. I guess Chandler was just looking out for your best interests." Judy placed the glass down on the table beside her and ran her hands down her dress. "We Geller women aren't very easy to deal with. When we find the right man, who can see through all that, oh I don't need to tell you. You already know."

Monica approached her mother. "I'm still kind of confused."

"Let's just say that Chandler loves you very much, and I don't think there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you."

"What did he say?"

"Oh, that's not important."

"Mom?"

Judy looked up, trying to appear annoyed at her daughter's persistence. "He may have let me know that I wasn't very good at showing my appreciation for you, and how you're too good for us and none of us deserve you."

Monica's jaw dropped a bit in shock. "Really?"

"I think that's the gist of it. He tends to ramble a bit before he makes a point. It is kind of off-putting."

Monica smiled and nodded as she turned back to look at herself in the mirror. "I know."

"You two are going to be very happy together. You were smart like me and made sure to wait for the right man."

Monica made eye contact with her mother's reflection and offered her a warm smile. "Thanks mom. I think so too."

"I do love you dear. You know that, right?"

"I know. I love you too."

"I don't understand. Why didn't she write anything about you?" Chandler dropped the letter into his lap and turned up to look at his wife.

"I might have told your mother that we needed our own individual letters, and that I already had one so she should write about you."

"You mean you lied?"

"Yeah, is that bad? Please don't tell her that I lied. She still likes me."

Chandler chuckled and leaned over to kiss his wife's thigh. "No. I'm impressed. You're normally so bad at lying." He looked down again at the letter. "Did she really write all that? You didn't send anything to her?"

"I didn't. I did read it a few times though."

"Opening someone else's mail is a federal offense." Monica shook her head as she playfully slapped him on the shoulder. Chandler laughed but then looked back up at her. "What do I do?"

"Well, I think you should call her. You should invite her to Thanksgiving and you should thank her for the lovely letter and you two should reconnect and finally bond as mother and son and you'll both have me to thank for it."

Chandler laughed and shook his head. "You really did all this just so the two of us would talk?"

Monica looked down and nodded. Her cheeks flushed slightly with mild embarrassment.

"You're amazing. Do you know that?"

"I know. I have this guy that hangs around me all the time and he tells me that a lot."

Chandler stood up and faced her. "You're talking about me, right?"

"No. Javier, from the restaurant."

"You know I don't like jokes like that." Monica nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "All right. I'll call her." He placed a kiss on Monica's head. "I love you. Call me when they get to the part where Joey forgets how spicy the taco was and takes another bite. I love that part."

Monica slid down off the arm of the chair and made herself comfortable in the seat that he had just vacated. "Okay."

Chandler turned to look at her one more time before leaving the room. "And…thanks."

Monica watched him as he walked away and listened to his footsteps as he approached the kitchen. She smiled to herself as she heard him pick the phone up from the receiver and closed her eyes. "Oh honey, thank you too."