Thanksgiving 2005

Chandler made his way downstairs, with the twins in tow, smiling from ear to ear. From the moment he woke up, he could smell the food Monica had left cooking in the oven. The warm, inviting aroma practically pulling him down the stairs. It was as if wispy tendrils were reaching out from the kitchen and wrapping themselves through his nostrils, tugging him closer to the source of the pleasing blend of aromatics. It was a funny thing to him, having this kind of response to food that he used to revile. Despite his best efforts for most of his life, ever since last year, when he finally lifted his embargo on any traditional Thanksgiving fare passing his lips, Chandler had become quite the fan of "pilgrim" food. Now, he can't imagine getting through the day without eating some of Monica's stuffing, candied yams, or her mashed potatoes. He even doesn't mind having a little turkey all that much anymore. However, he still draws a hard line at brussel sprouts and mashed turnips.

Once he reached the bottom step, Erica squirmed and pulled her hand out of his, so she could walk on her own. She stumbled her way into the kitchen, teetering side-to-side with each step. Chandler took Jack off his hip and dropped him down to the floor, where he promptly followed his sister down the hall. Practically mirroring her movements, step-for-step. It was at times like this, that he could truly see them as twins.

For the most part, they acted very differently. Erica was more independent, constantly on the move, while Jack still enjoyed being coddled, and was content to sit still and entertain himself. Erica could be fussy and picky with food. Jack, on the other hand, would eat anything you put in front of him. Erica was bossy and demanding. She babbled constantly as she tried to form new words, and she spoke in sentences that only he and Monica could fully understand. Jack was quieter, only spoke when prompted, and enjoyed playing on his own in silence. Erica had golden yellow hair, but Jack was more of a dirty blonde. Jack also had one big dimple on his right cheek when he smiled and laughed, which he did almost all of the time. Erica would wrinkle her forehead constantly as she would become frustrated; anything could set her off, a toy that didn't work, something too far out of reach, or a goal she could not reach because of her limited mobility. Erica seemed to want to conquer the world, while Jack was much more comfortable being a spectator. Yet, when they walked and ran side-by-side, it was like they were a perfect copy of each other.

Chandler made sure to walk closely behind them and as the teetered into the kitchen. It was odd to wake up in the morning, let alone on Thanksgiving, and not have Monica already in the kitchen with her apron on; darting around the room from dish-to-dish. Cutting, stirring, and chopping her way about the kitchen as she was preparing the sumptuous holiday meal. Yet, she was not here this morning, instead, she was at the restaurant. Opening her doors for a food drive along with the other businesses in town, offering free breakfast for people donating goods to the local food pantry and for the families in need that were there to take something home in order to have their own Thanksgiving. Chandler chuckled as he thought of Monica, boasting last night that she was going to make so many crepes and pancakes that no one was going to have room for dinner later that afternoon.

When Chandler finally stepped through the entranceway and into the kitchen, he stopped short, almost tipping over as his eyes fell to the table. There was a tray of stuffing with the tinfoil cover pulled up and what looked to be a few portions missing. Next to it, a container of gravy with the cover removed. Chandler looked up and shook his head. "Joey!"

Chandler turned around, quickly walked through the hall, and entered the den. "Joey, what are you doing?"

Joey turned around and looked up at him from his seat in the recliner. A plate with some crumbs and drops of gravy in his lap. "What?" Chandler pointed at the plate and Joey looked down at it and then back up at Chandler. "I woke up hungry. It's the damn time zone delay. I'm missing meals."

"What meal would you be missing at 5am?"

Joey looked off to the side and began to slowly count off on his fingers. "It's 5am in L.A.? That doesn't make sense. If its 5am, then why am I awake?"

Chandler huffed and put his hand on his face. "You haven't even been here for twenty-four hours and you are already getting us in trouble! Come on, we have to fix this before Monica comes home." Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the kitchen and Chandler groaned as he grabbed his face with his hand. He spun around and jogged into the kitchen. He stopped at the doorway and looked down. Jack and Erica were sitting there, the container of gravy now upside-down on the floor. Jack was reaching his hand out and scooping up some of the spilt gravy, sticking it into his mouth as Erica kicked to container across the floor.

"Huh. So, this is how I die."

Joey stood behind him and winced as he saw the scene playing out in the kitchen. "Well, we did all figure if you went early it would be because Monica killed you."

Chandler turned to look at Joe and gasped. "What do we do?"

"Well, the stuffing isn't ruined." Joey walked past Chandler and grabbed the tin. "Look, I'll just shake it and it'll even out and no one will know I took any." Before either man could process his plan, Joey began to violently jerk the tray back-and-forth. He carefully watched the stuffing as it began to slide around in the tray. "See dude, this is going to work." Without warning, the tray slipped from his fingers and flew across the room, crashing into the sink as it emptied out all over the floor. Joey looked at his hands and his eyes widened with rage. "Damn gravy fingers!"

Chandler began to gesticulate wildly and his eyes darted around the room. "Joe! Now she's going to kill both of us!"

Joey looked down as he contemplated their next move. He then smiled, nodded and snapped his fingers. "I got it!" He jumped over towards the food that had fallen on the floor and began scooping it back up into the tray.

"Joe! You can't do that!"

"What? Just don't eat it. Jack and Erica aren't going to say anything."

"Yeah, but it was on the floor."

"What would you rather do? Watch everyone eat floor food or have Monica kill you?"

"You make a good point." Chandler looked down at his two children who were still sitting in the spilt gravy. "What about this?" He looked around the kitchen nervously. "Wait!" He smiled as he pointed in the direction of the pantry. "You know what. I think we may have a few jars of gravy in there!" Chandler skipped across the room and started to look around on the shelves of the pantry.

Joey screwed up his face in disgust. "Jarred gravy? For Thanksgiving? I mean, it should really be made from scratch."

Chandler stepped out of the pantry and stared blankly at Joey. He then pointed at the gravy on the floor and sighed heavily. "What do you think that was!"

"I know. It was really good. You should think about having that with dinner today."

Chandler rolled his eyes and continued his search in the pantry. "That's a great idea Joe. I don't know why we didn't think of that."

Monica walked into the house and quickly took off her coat, hanging it on a hook inside the closet. "Chandler?"

"In here."

Monica walked into the den and saw Joey and Chandler on the floor playing with Jack and Erica. "Aww. Look at you guys. You finally graduated from birds to children."

Both men nodded enthusiastically. Joey picked up a toy and started to press buttons, causing different Sesame Street characters to pop up. "Mon, me and Jack have been playing with this all morning. I have to get one of these. Where did you guys get this?"

Monica quickly moved across the room, grabbed Erica, and lifted her up to give her a kiss. "Oh, do you know someone with a child back in L.A. who would like it?"

Joey frowned and looked down as he started to speak softly. "Yeah. Sure. I mean, why else would I want to buy one of these. Certainly not buying one for myself."

Monica tried to suppress a smile and shared a knowing glance with Chandler. She started to brush Erica's hair and squinted as she began to run her fingers through a few strands. "What is this?" She gently pulled off some dried gravy and ran it between her fingers. "Chandler? What happened to Erica's hair?"

"Uh, well, you know kids nowadays. I mean, I saw a boy at the store the other day, frosted tips." Monica burrowed her gaze at her husband as he focused his attention on the toy in front of him. "I mean, we should just accept that we are getting older and out of touch with today's hairstyles."

"Chandler!"

"Well, if you must know, she, ah, was painting."

"Really? Oh, I thought maybe it was just some food from breakfast."

"Yes. That would have made more sense."

Erica looked over at her father and then back at her mother. "Grayee."

Monica looked down at her daughter. "What was that honey? Gravy?" She then shot a stern look back at Chandler and Joey.

"What? No, she didn't say 'gravy', she said, uh, 'grey-ee'."

"Oh yeah? Well, then what is 'grey-ee'?"

Chandler looked down at Erica and then back up at Monica. "Well, that's when you…"

"Grayee." Jack, copying Erica, turned his head around and smiled after he spoke.

Chandler shook his head in defeat. "You know, I liked you kids better when all you could say was 'yeah'. It made lying much easier."

Jack laughed and started to babble, but then stopped as he looked up at Joey. He strained as he reached for the toy Joey held in his hands.

"You guys got into the gravy?" Monica set Erica back down and stood up. "I knew we should have gotten Joey a hotel room." Monica huffed and quickly walked away, leaving the room. "I better go check on the rest of the food."

"Joey leaned over and elbowed Chandler gently on the side. "Whew. That was a close one."

"Close one? She knows about the gravy."

"Yeah, at least she didn't find out about…"

Suddenly, Monica's scolding voice boomed from the kitchen. "Who got into the stuffing!"

Rachel and Phoebe walked into the kitchen together and both women started to look around. Rachel placed her hand on Monica's arm and smiled. "What can we help with?"

"Seriously? You two want to help?"

"Yeah. Phoebe and I were talking about the wedding, and we started to reminisce about her wedding, and we just realized how much you did for her to make that day so special and magical."

Phoebe ran her finger along the kitchen table and smiled. "Yeah, I mean, except for the freezing cold and the ice sculpture melting before the ceremony, it was perfect!"

Rachel nodded. "I guess we just realized how much you do for us, and we never really get to return the favor. So, here we are. Use us!"

Monica chuckled and shook her head. "Don't let Joey hear you say that." The three women shared a laugh together as they all nodded in agreement. "Well, okay, helpers; I need someone to finish setting up the crudité, and I was thinking we could put out some more wine."

Rachel raised her hands up in celebration. "More wine!" She walked over to the counter and grabbed the wine bottle opener. Phoebe sat down at the kitchen table and began to organize some of the sliced vegetables on the tray in front of her.

Monica handed Rachel a bottle of white wine. "Thanks guys. I really appreciate this."

Rachel started to position the opener at the top of the bottle and smiled. "Really, it is the least I can do after all the help you're giving me with my wedding."

Phoebe looked up from her task and stared at Rachel. "What?" Rachel's body tightened up as she closed her eyes tightly and pulled her hands up to her chest. Phoebe, becoming impatient with her silence, looked over at Monica. "Mon, what is she talking about?"

Monica turned around and approached Phoebe slowly. "Uh, well, I just gave Rachel a little bit of help with a couple of things for the wedding."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, the flowers, and the venue, and the music, and the centerpieces. The bridesmaid dresses, her bouquet, the place settings, and maybe the food?"

Rachel shook her head as she stared at Monica. Phoebe darted her eyes between the two women. "Oh, I see. So, I guess as the Maid of Honor I get to pick, what? The tuxes?"

Monica squinted as she tried to soften her words. "Actually Pheebs, I went with Ross and we picked out tuxes last week."

"Well, did you at least go with cummerbunds?"

"Sure, if by cummerbund you mean vest."

Phoebe shook her head angrily and stared at Rachel. "So, I don't get to do anything? I don't get to help at all?"

Monica sat down next to Phoebe and gently touched her arm. "Wait Phoebe, this is a good thing. You don't have to do any of the boring, tedious work, but you still get to be the Maid of Honor."

Rachel walked over and nodded. "Yes! Oh, honey, you don't want to sit there and look at napkin patterns anyway."

"Yes, I do!"

"Really?"

"Rachel, when the three of us agreed to be each other's Maid of Honor, and I found out I got to be yours, I was really excited. You and Monica have been friends for so long, and the two of you have so many special memories together. I thought that I would finally have something like that with you. That planning your wedding would be just me and you, and it would be our thing that we could talk about for years." Phoebe stood up from the table and headed towards the entranceway. "I guess having some special bond between the two of us isn't as important to you as it is to me." Phoebe stormed out of the kitchen and disappeared from sight, leaving both Monica and Rachel behind.

Chandler entered the den carrying a glass of merlot and handed it to his mother. "Here mom. I'm glad you could make it early this year."

Nora Bing looked across the room at her ex-husband, who was sitting on the floor dressed as Helena, and playing with their grandchildren. "Can you believe this is where we are now?"

Chandler looked over at his father and laughed as he nodded. "Never would have guessed it in a million years."

Nora took a sip from her glass, never taking her eyes off Helena. She leaned in towards her son and spoke softly. "Do you know, he told me about his show, and asked my opinion about some of the dialogue? He actually scribbled down notes."

"That's great. Maybe he can change the name of the show to family dysfunction. That's kind of snappy."

Nora chuckled into her glass and looked back at Helena. "I don't think we are all that dysfunctional anymore. Look at us. All sitting around waiting for Thanksgiving dinner. We are practically a Norman Rockwell painting."

"Maybe with a little Robert Mapplethorpe thrown in."

"I'm being serious. Never would I have imagined you and your father having the kind of relationship that you have now. Or me and you having this conversation."

"Or you and dad not arguing about who looks better in a sequins gown." Chandler settled down onto the arm of the couch and looked over at his father. "Monica did all this."

Nora nodded and reached over to hold his hand. "She gave the push, but you had to let her push you."

Chandler laughed. "That isn't normally how it works with Monica."

"Give yourself a little credit dear."

Phoebe flounced into the dining room and plopped down onto her seat next to Mike. "We are mad at Rachel."

"Oh. Okay. Should I boo her when she walks in or…"

"I'm serious Mike."

Ross let out a nervous giggle and then straightened up to composed himself. "Uh, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay."

"Rachel and Monica have been planning the wedding together behind my back, and I'm really mad about it." She pointed at Ross. "Unlike you, I don't think Rachel plans to get married more than once so I'll never have this chance again."

Ross's eyes go up to the ceiling and he pondered whether or not he should bring a voice to his thoughts. He then relented, knowing he could not stop himself from correcting the record. "Technically, Rachel has been married before. To me."

"See! And she didn't even let me be her Maid of Honor then either!"

Mike flashed a small smile at Ross and then looked off to the side, puzzled by this new information. "Wait. You two were married before?"

"Yeah, but it was a drunken marriage in Vegas."

"How many times have you been married?"

"Uh, well, with this one coming up, I guess it will be four?"

Mike smiled and shook his head. "Wow! And I thought my one divorce made me look bad."

Ross narrowed his eyes and let out a mock laugh. "Not with this group. Come to think of it? Chandler and Monica are the only ones who've been married once."

Mike nodded and gestured towards his wife. "Well, and Phoebe."

"No, there was the ice dancer." Ross pointed his finger at Phoebe. "What was his name?"

Phoebe started to look around the table nervously and shook her head. "What?"

"You know. The ice dancer. Blonde guy. You two got divorced in like 96 or 97…"

Mike turned to look at Phoebe. "You were married before?"

"Yes. Okay, yes. But it wasn't a real marriage. It was for a green card. And, in my defense. I thought he was gay."

Ross laughed and gestured to Phoebe. "That's funny. You married a gay guy who turned out to be straight, and I married a straight woman who turned out to be gay." His smile disappeared and his expression became sullen. "I guess it isn't really that funny."

Joey entered the room, holding a turkey leg in his hand and he took a large bite from it. "What are you guys talking about?"

Ross looked up at Joey. "Mike didn't know that Phoebe was married before. And, maybe don't talk with a mouthful of turkey next time."

Mike nodded. "Yeah, but, uh, it's okay, I guess. Not the turkey thing. That's gross to look at. I mean with Phoebe, it wasn't a real marriage."

Joey shook his head. "Pheebs. I thought we cleared all that up. When you get married in Vegas, it is a real marriage."

Mike looked up at him and Phoebe took the opportunity to glare at Joey while Mike's attention was diverted. Mike then turned to look at Phoebe. "You and this ice guy got married in Vegas too?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Not exactly. There was this other guy, but once I found out that it wasn't fake, we got a divorce."

Ross furrowed his brow as he stared at Phoebe. "Wait! You've been married three times?"

"Well…"

"All this time, you've been making fun of me for my three marriages, and you've been married three times?"

"Yeah, well…you've been divorced three time. I've only been divorced twice."

Mike stood up. "You've been married twice!"

"Mike, let me explain."

Monica walked into the dining room with a tray of food and looked over at Joey. "Joe! Where did you get that turkey leg?"

"In the kitchen."

"I didn't serve the turkey yet! What did you do? Just rip it off when I wasn't looking?"

"What? No, I used a knife."

Rachel walked in behind Monica and quickly glanced at Phoebe. "Phoebe…"

"Nuh-uh. I have nothing to say to you, you…uh…well….I don't know what I would call you in this situation, so just imagine I said something very hurtful right now."

Mike put his hand up, gesturing for Rachel to give him a minute. "Phoebe. We really should talk about this."

Phoebe glared at Ross. "We wouldn't have to if Ross could have kept his big mouth shut!"

Ross pointed at Joey. "Hey! He's the one who brought up the Vegas marriage! Yell at him!"

Monica put her hand in Ross's face to quiet him. "She has to get in line, because I'm going to yell at him first for ruining the turkey!"

The six of them began to yell over each other, switching the target of their ire from one person to another. Their voices blended together into a cacophony of anger. No one willing to let someone else get a word in. Each person pointed at someone in the room as tempers flared.

Chandler's head tilted as his ears pricked up. "Do you guys hear that?"

Helena chuckled and stood up. "Sounds like the dressing room minutes before the curtain went up on opening night."

Chandler looked over at his father and then glanced at his mother. "Are people…arguing?"

Nora took a sip of her drink. "Sounds like it."

"You mean to tell me, that it is Thanksgiving, and everyone except the Bings are yelling and screaming at each other?" Chandler darted his eyes once more between his parents. "Is this how the world ends?"

He turned, left the den, and walked into the dining room. He jumped back, startled at how intense the fighting had become. He watched for a brief moment as everyone seemed to be yelling at anyone they could. Angry, admonishing fingers and one sloppy turkey leg swinging in the air. Chandler put his fingers into his mouth and let out one long, loud whistle. He only stopped when he finally got everyone's attention.

"What is going on in here?" Everyone started to talk at the same time and he could not make out what anyone was saying. Chandler waved his arms, gesturing for them all to stop. "Okay, you all have made some very good points."

"Rachel and Monica have been planning the wedding behind my back!"

Rachel walked over to Phoebe and knelt down beside her, taking her hands into her own. "Pheebs. I am so sorry that I did that. I had no idea how much this means to you. From now on, it will be just me and you, and we can look over everything all over again and start from scratch. Okay?"

Ross shot Rachel a confused look. "Start from scratch?"

Rachel waved Ross off and then turned her attention back to Phoebe. "Come one Pheebs. What do you say?"

"We don't have to start from scratch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. The only thing I ask is that you let me help pick out new bridesmaid dresses because I am going to be very pregnant when you get married and I want to look good."

Rachel laughed and nodded in agreement. "Okay Phoebe."

Phoebe turned to Mike. "I'm sorry I never told you about my other marriages. I guess, they just never felt real." She then extended her finger and moved it from his chest to hers. "You and me. This is real. This is the only one that counts."

Mike looked down and nodded. Chandler shook his head. "Will you kiss and make up already?"

Mike and Phoebe laughed as they leaned in and shared a kiss.

Monica then pointed at Joey. "He started eating the turkey before dinner was served!" Chandler smiled and exhaled a short laugh. Monica stomped her foot and glared at him. "It's not funny!"

Chandler gestured towards Joey and nodded. "Joe. Tell her."

Monica looked at him and then turned her attention to Joe. "Tell me what?"

Joey scratched at the back of his neck. "I was going to wait until dinner."

"So was that turkey leg!" Monica jabbed a finger at him and Joey jumped back.

Joey straightened up and smiled meekly at her. "I was talking to my producer on my Food Network show and I convinced them to do a few episodes in New York. And, well, I was thinking that maybe we can do your restaurant."

"What?"

"We want to shoot an episode at your restaurant. Every place we've been to sees a big jump in business and so I just thought that…"

Monica started to smile and then looked at Chandler. "I'm going to be on TV?" Chandler laughed and nodded. She then turned back to Joey. "My food is going to be on TV?"

"If you want."

Monica leapt up and hugged Joey tightly. She stepped back and started to look around the room. "Oh man! I have to start planning! There's so much to do before we're ready. I have to figure out what dishes to offer and what ingredients to use and should we have the tres leches cake or the fried oreos…." Monica's voice trailed off as she absentmindedly walked out of the dining room.

Joey looked over at Chandler, shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Phoebe looked off to the side and nodded. "You know, I was almost on TV. I was going to be a weather person."

Chandler sat down and grabbed a piece of bread from a tray in front of him. "Yeah Pheebs? I don't think you ever told us that."

Ross twisted his face up into a suspicious scowl. "What? You're not a meteorologist."

"No, but there was this one time I met Al Roker in Mexico, and let's just say I got him out of a tight spot. Anyway, he owed me this huge favor and…" Phoebe stopped talking and then looked over at Mike. "Uh, come to think of it, I might have been married more than three times."