Where have all the good stories gone? Things have really slowed down in the Friend's forum lately. What's going on? I hardly see any new work coming out. It's sad, you know.
I promised a new chapter at least once a week and I mean to keep my promise. Here is Chapter 12. I had to add another chapter (13) because I could not get all I needed to say into just chapter 12. If you are following this story you MUST read Chapters 13 and 14! I haven't written them yet but trust me, you will not be disappointed!
I hope to see the final (or near final) installment of Tina's "Beautiful Release" and Floatlikeasponge's "A Dance With New York" soon, I hope.
Please enjoy and let me know what you think and how to improve what I've written. Chapter 11 was so good because I listen to my critics, they know more than I do!
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Of all the places he could have chosen …
It was far from the ideal place to read and relax. He had been so busy; he was out of clean clothes. There he sat in his own little world among the din of washers and driers. He had been successful at blocking it out. He was deep into his book when he felt it … a large bag of clothes that had been carelessly tossed onto the chair beside him.
"Hey, could you please watch it, I'm trying to read!" He said, shoving the bag of clothes off of himself.
"Sorry."
He knew that voice. He raised his eyes. There she stood, the one he loved. She smiled as their eyes met.
"Oh hey, I'm … I'm sorry for yelling at you."
"That's OK. Is this seat taken?"
"What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like? I'm in a Laundromat and I have a large bag of dirty clothes. What do you think?"
"Alright, I get the connection."
"So is this seat taken?"
"Yes, it's yours." And then she sat, next to the one who loved her.
"Don't you have some clothes to do?" He asked.
"Oh yeah, I forgot. Hold my seat won't you?"
"Sure. Hurry back."
"I will."
She was excited and nervous as she loaded the machine with her laundry. Oh, how she wished that it could be so simple to wash away the mistakes they had made simply by inserting coins into a slot. Little did he know that most of the clothes she was washing were actually clean, having been hurriedly pulled from her closet. Having started her washer, she returned to sit next to him. He looked up at her …
"I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for, Ross?"
"I'm sorry for what you saw in the park."
Realizing what he meant she looked down for a moment, the memories returning.
"I didn't mean for you to see us. I never wanted to hurt you. I never want to hurt you again, ever."
Looking up, she replied …
"Ross, you have nothing to be sorry about. You have every right to date whoever you want. We're divorced, remember?"
"How could I forget? I'm still sorry though."
She replied with a short "I know." Wishing to change the subject, she chose the most obvious diversion …
"So what are you doing?"
"I'm reading."
"What are you reading?"
"A book."
"What's the name of the book?"
"Rachel, please what's going on? Why are you so curious, anyway?"
"I'd just like to know what you're reading."
Something was wrong. At any other time he would have been thrilled to sit and talk to her, but her presence made him uncomfortable … he was hiding something.
"Rachel, it's just a book."
"Ross, why can't you just tell me what you're reading?"
"I can tell you … I just don't want to!"
"Why don't you want to tell me, Ross? Are you reading porn?"
"Rachel, stop it please! I'm not reading porn. Why do you want to know so badly?"
"Why don't you want to tell me?"
At this point she saw an opportunity to play with him, to liven things up a bit. He had a secret, something he didn't want her to know. She would use it to her advantage. Playfully she grabbed at the book, not accidentally reaching around him, getting very close to him. She could smell him for the first time in ages.
"Even this late in the day he smelled good." She thought.
Being so close was a distraction he could not resist. She had had the advantage of being able to prepare for their "accidental" meeting. She made sure that she was at her best. As he inhaled her sweet fragrances he momentarily became intoxicated by her. Each aroma brought back many sweet memories of days gone by. Before he knew it the book was gone.
"Sweet November. What's it about?" She asked.
Her question brought him back from the trance that she had put him in.
"Rachel, please give me my book back."
"Sure, but only if you tell me what it's about."
Defeated. That's how he felt at that moment. Ross resisted telling her until the end. Telling her would expose a part of him that he wanted to conceal, especially from her.
"Alright, you win."
He sighed heavily and looked down at the floor. He continued …
"The book is about a man named Charlie. Charlie is a fanatical, hard-driven businessman. He meets Sara, a woman very different from anyone else he has ever met. She captivates him and convinces him to spend a month with her with the promise that she will change his life forever. Throughout the course of November the two experience several good times and many breakups. Charlie is forced to obey Sara's rules, and to examine his life and his past in great detail. Eventually Charlie realizes that he is deeply in love with Sara and asks her to marry him, but their relationship cannot last …"
"Why, why can't it last?" She asked, totally focused on the words flowing from his mouth.
He looked up at her and stared deeply into her eyes. He continued …
"They had broken up but then got back together. What seems to be a perfect reunion is ruined when Charlie wakes up to find that Sara is once again asking him to leave. She admits a sad, dark secret to him."
"What secret?" She asked.
"Sara is dying of cancer."
He paused and continued …
"She asks Him to leave with the hope that he will have only happy memories of her. Sara explains that she needs to know that this is how she will be remembered, so that she can face her last days of life. The story ends on a street corner in San Francisco with Sara blindfolding Charlie and then walking away, never to see him again."
He looked away …
The similarities between real life and fiction had not been lost on her. She lifted her hand and placed it on his. A moment later she too looked away toward the floor, her tears dropping like rain …
"And now you know why I didn't want to tell you about my book. See, I've hurt you again."
Composing herself, she responded …
"Ross, you didn't hurt me!"
"But you're so sad."
""Yes, I am sad, but it doesn't mean that you hurt me. The truth is that we've both hurt each other so much, so many times. I am as guilty as you are. I come down here to surprise you, so that we can talk, and I find you reading this book, a story that mirrors our own relationship in so many ways. It's a sign. It shows me just how much I must have hurt you when I signed our marriage away."
Looking up at her he realized something; he realized he was too close. Getting up, he moved to a seat across from her so that he could look at her face-to-face, eye-to-eye.
"Do you want the truth, Rachel?"
"Of course, don't you?"
"Yes, but at what cost? If I tell you how I truly feel … then, then you'll be hurt."
"Tell me … please."
"Alright, I was very hurt when you signed the papers. I put everything I had into our relationship. I'm exhausted. Rachel, do you know what a joke my life is?"
"What do you mean? … You're not a joke."
"Oh really? Imagine being told by three people you love that they don't want you anymore! All three divorces were forced upon me, each against my will!"
She looked down as he moved back to the seat next to her.
Looking straight ahead he sighed …
"Rachel, so why are you really here?"
"We've been many things to each other. I was hoping that we could still be friends."
He considered her words for a moment. This was Rachel, Rachel Green, his love, his ex-girlfriend, his ex-wife. He would sacrifice his very life for her if she would only ask him to. Turning to her he offered his hand. Confused, she looked at his hand, then up at his face.
"Take it." He said.
Again she looked at his hand. She offered her hand to him and he shook it.
"Hi, I'm Ross Gellar."
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The next day …
The phone rings …
"Hello."
"Phoebe, its Rachel."
"Oh hi Rachel. How are you."
"I'm fine. I promised that I would call you and I did."
"Great! So what's up?"
"Phoebe, could you meet me at Central Perk in about 10 minutes? I have a favor to ask of you."
"Sure, I'll see you in 10 minutes, bye."
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10 minutes later …
"Phoebe, I need to ask a favor of you. Please hear me out before you agree or not, OK?"
"Sure, what's the favor?
"I need some information about Ross and you're the only person who can get it for me."
"What information do you need?"
"I need to know his routine. I need to know when he goes to work, when he goes to the gym, things like that."
"Rachel, I don't want to get between the two of you. Please don't ask me to spy on him."
"Phoebe, all I'm asking is for his routine. Ross and I haven't spent much time together lately. I surprised him at the Laundromat yesterday and we had a pretty good time. I know he doesn't have a lot of free time right now, with Jack being sick and all but I'd like to see if I can work my schedule to spend more time with him."
Phoebe considered her words and her loyalty to her roommate …
"I'll see what I can do."
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Two days later …
"Hey Jim, how's it going."
"I'm great, how about you, Ross?"
"I'm a little tired but I thought I could use a workout to relieve some stress."
Ross pulled out his gym ID card and presented it to his friend, the attendant.
"Have a nice workout, enjoy yourself."
Ross walked to the locker room to change into his gym clothes. Exiting the locker room he stopped for a moment to watch his friend hitting on a new customer. Dressed in a stylish sports outfit, she would make quite a catch.
"There he is!" His friend exclaimed, pointing at Ross.
She turned around … and then he saw her … again.
As he approached he wondered …
"Rachel, what are you doing here? You never go to the gym?"
"I decided I needed to get into better shape. All that rich food your sister is feeding me is making me soft. I was just going to ask Jim to show me around and to teach me how to use some of the exercise machines."
Jim was enthusiastic, much-too-much for Ross's taste. With a hint of jealousy he responded …
"I can show you around. Jim can't leave his post here, he has to stay and check ID cards, isn't that right Jim?"
Ross glared right into his eyes. He had gotten the message. Jim relinquished any hope of going out with his friend's former wife.
Rachel watched the entire scene play out, pleased with herself.
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Over the next few months a damaged relationship was restored. The pressure they felt from their failed marriage behind them, Ross and Rachel discovered the true essence of their relationship … mutual respect. When they were not working or sleeping they usually could be found together. They did almost everything together … they were inseparable.
Given time, their relationship had become stronger then when they had dated, five years before. With all of the adversity is Ross's life he was actually happy. He trusted her with everything and depended on her for advice. He needed guidance …
"Rachel, could I ask your advice about something?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"I have a decision to make and I value your opinion. I am considering moving … out of the city."
"Oh." She replied, trying to conceal her disappointment.
"I'm considering moving back to Long Island to help my parents out. My Mom is overwhelmed taking care of Dad. She could use my help."
It didn't take long for her to think … and to make the decision. She knew that he loved his parents and they needed him. She considered herself selfish but it didn't seem to matter. She hadn't been happier in years, and she did not want it to end.
"Couldn't Judy hire someone to help her out?"
"Yes, I suppose so. That's an option I hadn't considered."
She felt low …
"Rachel, there's a reason why I want to, no, I need to move …"
"Why?" She asked, concerned, not really ready to hear his answer.
"I have a debt to repay."
"A debt, to whom? How much do you owe?" She asked.
"I owe a debt to my parents. They brought me into this world; they raised me the best they could; they gave me everything they had. They encouraged me to follow my dreams. They helped make me who I am today. Most of all they loved me. This is a debt that I can never repay."
A pall fell over them as she considered his words. She knew that he wanted and needed to go. She should support him … she did not want to lose him again.
At that moment the door to the coffee house opened. In walked a young man, smartly dressed and somewhat handsome. His eyes scanned the occupants of the establishment until they found their target.
"Ross!"
Ross turned his head towards the familiar voice. He rose to his feet as he recognized his friend …
"Steve, how are you?"
"Great, thanks for inviting …"
Ross cut him off, abruptly.
"Steve! Have you ever been to Central Perk before?"
"No, this is my first time."
"Well sit down and order some coffee."
Realizing that he had forgotten Rachel, he attempted to recover …
"Oh, I've forgotten my manners. Steve, this is my friend Rachel, Rachel Green. Rachel this is Steve Rodgers."
Each replied to the other with a "Nice to meet you."
The three sat there for an hour, talking and drinking their coffee. Ross and Rachel occupied the couch and Steve took the chair facing to the right. As he finished his coffee Ross looked at his watch …
"Oh, look what time it is, I've got to get going. I'm late for an appointment!"
With puzzled looks on their faces they bid him adieu.
And he was gone …
As Ross exited the coffee house he was conflicted. He loved her beyond measure, so much so that he would sacrifice any future with her … for her happiness.
They sat there uncomfortably, wondering how they had ended up in the situation that they found themselves in.
"So how do you know Ross?" She asked.
"I met him at NYU. I had to take a science class as an elective for my business degree. Ross ended up teaching the course that I took."
"Have you and Ross known each other for long?" He asked.
"I've known him for about 20 years. I was best friends with his sister, Monica, when we were kids."
The pair sat there silently for another minute or so, hardly saying a word. Then it came to her …
"Steve, do you get the feeling that we've been set up?"
"I was thinking the same thing. Ross asked me to come down to have a coffee. I was a little surprised when he left so abruptly."
She thought for another moment before putting the pieces together …
"That little …"
"What?"
"Did he tell you anything else when he talked to you before?"
"Well, he did talk you up a bit. He told me how beautiful and smart you were."
"That proves it! I'm going to kill him!"
As her anger grew as she gathered her things. As she left the couch she spoke …
"It was nice to meet you Steve but I gotta go kill my ex-husband!"
And she was gone …
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10 minutes later …
There was a loud knock on his door. Unfortunately for him … he was there to answer it.
He opened the door …
"How dare you!"
"Excuse me?"
"How dare you try to set me up with another man!"
"Rachel …"
From out of his left eye he saw it. It approached with lightening speed. He knew she was angry and that he was going to receive the brunt of it. Then it hit him … her hand slapped him across his left check. The impact was surprisingly hard for a slight woman. She was irate. He was thrown off balance by the impact. It would take a few moments to recover …
"How dare you! I don't need you to find me a date! I'm not your damned charity project!"
"Rachel, I know. You can get any man you want. You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I just …"
"Ross, what were you thinking?"
"I … I was thinking how much I love you. I was thinking how much I want you to be happy … no matter what price I have to pay."
There she stood her arms at her side, totally unable to respond. Caught in a gray zone between love and hate she found herself unable to decide which way to react. She would not allow him to escape her scorn with a few choice words. She could not wait for her brain to process all the information and emotions she was feeling at that moment, so, she just acted out of instinct …
Again he saw it, again it came into view, and again it hurt. His cheek became red from the impact of her hand and the ring she wore. He was again thrown off balance. He recovered. He wondered how his act of selflessness had backfired so badly.
… And then she did it. She lifted herself on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his face. Drawing him nearer she placed her lips on his before quickly retreating. She ran down the stairs and across the street, not stopping until back at Monica's apartment.
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Later that night …
There she sat upon her bed, thinking, remembering.
The memories filled the room.
She reached under her bed and pulled out a box. If anyone else had found it they would have just thrown it all away, discounting its contents as useless junk. For Rachel, the box held a treasure beyond measure and she would allow no one to touch it. As she opened the box the ghosts of the past escaped, mixing with those memories already flying around the room. Old ticket stubs, an eggshell, some birthday cards and two audio cassettes. She examined the writing on both tapes. One was a mix tape that Ross had created for her while at the apex of their relationship. The tape was full of love songs she remembered so well. The second tape was alien to her. The only distinguishing mark on it was some writing, "I'm Sorry". She searched through her memories trying to remember ever receiving it …
… and then it hit her, an obscure little remembrance from a few years ago.
It slowly came back to her as to why she could not remember it … she did not want to.
He had given it to her right after their breakup.
She was angry and hurt … he was distressed and aggrieved.
He wanted to talk … she would have none of it.
In desperation he had recorded his thoughts, his feelings onto the tape in a form that she could understand, even in her time of resentment. She couldn't remember having listened to more than a few seconds of it. She was so angry at that time she simply threw it in the box, into the casket of her memories.
She considered her options … should she listen to it or not? Her curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to hear what he had to say. She searched frantically for her old tape player. Finding it, she plugged it in and hoped that it still worked. Inserting the tape she took a deep breath … and pushed PLAY.
There are different ways to cry. You can be happy or sad; it can happen quickly or slowly, at a snail's pace. Rachel cried, but not immediately. What she heard started her thinking. She considered what she was hearing. It was the voice of Ross, the old Ross. He was speaking to her. He was PLEADING with her through time to stay, to give them a second chance … without saying a word, with his music...
How do I,
Get through the night without you?
If I had to live without you,
What kind of life would that be?
Oh, I
I need you in my arms, need you to hold,
You're my world, my heart, my soul,
If you ever leave,
Baby you would take away everything good in my life,
And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know,
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go,
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?
The songs continued for a while, all with similar themes. With each passing song she felt the sadness and regret building up within.
She was akin to a jar, filling with water. It would only take so long for the jar to fill and then overflow. She was filling quickly.
The grief and guilt that Ross had felt that day was evident in every note and word of every song.
The vessel had filled, the tears overflowed.
As sad as she had become, she was surprised, even disappointed when the last song he had recorded had finished … or so she thought. There was a delay, a gap between songs longer than those before. If she had been rushed she would have stopped the tape not even knowing it was there … but it was. This song was different from the rest. It was an invitation. It was as if all of the prior songs had been a buildup to this request.
The lyrics from the song captivated her as if he were right there in front of her, beseeching her for another chance. "If ever …" she thought.
But he had … and she had been.
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Credit goes to either Leanne Rimes or Trisha Yearwood (they both sang it) for the sang "How Do I Live?"