Sorry for the really long update! I had the flu for a long time, and then Monday I had gum surgery and wasn't up to much. But I appreciate the reviews and hope everyone's enjoying this chapter! I know that (like I said to Cassanda-Summer-Green) I know that Emma probably sounds a lot older than four years old. I have a bad habit, when I'm writing, of making my child characters sound really precocious, probably more so than is believable. Sorry if the end of the chatper is a little 'stiff' I found it such a difficult part to write; I literally have about four versions of the end of the chapter and more or less hated them all, but since I hated this one the least, I went with it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all!
Enjoy! (:
Later that night, when the kids are in bed, Mike upstairs reading a story to Aubrey because it's the only way he ever falls asleep, the six of them are sitting around in the living room, and it's almost like the way it used to be, only they're older and there's no Gunther or ridiculously oversized coffee cups.
Rachel swatted Ross' hand away as he tried to massage her foot, her head resting on the back of the couch. "God, Ross, your massages always feel like you're trying to actually pull my foot off."
"That," he said, "is not possible."
"You," Chandler said, "are an idiot."
"Oh, I've missed you guys," Rachel smiled and threw her arm around Joey. "How are the neighbors?"
"Let's see," Chandler considered. "Anything is better than Janice-"
Monica laughed dryly. "Oh, right."
"What?!" Chandler cried. "You have to agree, the Maloney's aren't that bad. Better than," Chandler screwed up his face in a way that they had all thought not possible, jutted his hands out at an odd angle and said, in his best attempt at impersonating Janice, "Oh. My. God. My little Chanman!"
"Chanman? Were you her boyfriend or her child sex slave?" Phoebe gently hit Chandler's shoulder.
"Anyway, the Maloney's they're-"
"Horribly disgusting and dysfunctional in every single way possible?" Monica suggested.
"Okay, just because one time they.. they did it in their backyard." Monica gestured for Chandler to go on. "And because on a few occasions we have.. spotted them dancing naked in their house," Monica's eyes bugged. "Okay! Dancing to Paula Abdul songs and throwing marshmallows at each other."
"Ah," Ross drummed his fingers together, "they're the second coming of Ugly Naked Guy."
"But there's two of them!" Monica exclaimed. "Erica and Jack are going to grow up on the set of some kind of really weird porn film."
"Oh well. With Joey for an uncle, they're bound to find out everything sooner or later," Joey, in response, threw his shoe at Chandler.
"How's all faring on the love front?" Phoebe asked Joey.
"Couldn't be worse," Joey said cheerfully. "I'm screwed, if you think about it. I mean, I'm what,thirty five-"
"Joe, you're thirty eight."
"See! I can't even count! The last girlfriend I had was named Skyy-"
"Like the vodka?"
"Yes, like the damn vodka. She broke up with me because she said I had the mentality of an eight year old. I'm going to end up old and alone. I'll probably weigh like, eight hundred pounds and then I'll probably go insane from not being able to move, so Duck Junior and I will just end up together."
"Oh Joey, honey, that's not true," Rachel rubbed Joey's arm. "You'll meet someone!"
"And plus, we still have your Joey room," Chandler said. "So if worst comes to worst, you and Duck Junior can move in there."
"Ah, comforting. Moving in with my friends at the ripe old age of thirty five-"
"Thirty eight!"
"Damn it!"
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"Mommy," Emma kneeled in front of the park bench, her tiny hands a mixture of sandy and sticky, after the ice cream sandwich she'd just eaten. "Mommy, will you come build a sand castle with me?"
"Oh sweetie," Rachel lazily sat up, shivering in the warmth of the sun. "Look, give me ten minutes, okay? I'm just going to sit here with Daddy, and then I'll come make sand castles with you."
Emma sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry honey," Rachel bent down and kissed Emma's forehead. "Ten minutes, I pinky swear."
"Okay," Emma gave Rachel a small smile. "Ten minutes, real time?"
Rachel laughed. "Ten minutes real time." Ross and Emma had often joked about the difference between ten minutes real time, which meant ten minutes, or ten minutes, Mommy time, which could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour.
Rachel rested her head on Ross' shoulder. His eyes had been closed for maybe five minutes now. It was more of a nap than sleeping, and so Rachel felt no guilt in slipping his arm around hers and closing her own eyes. Emma would come to get her when the time was up, because for a four year old, her perception of time was normally pretty good.
For the time being, she just enjoyed the fact that she could sit out in the sun with the two people she loved most near to her, her best friends littered around the park, and not have to worry about having her purse stolen or being mugged.
It wasn't her purse that Rachel should have been worrying about.
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"Hey there," to Emma, the man looked friendly. He was wearing a pair of jeans like Daddy wore, and a green t-shirt.
"Hi," Emma waved at the man and itched a spot on her cheek, leaving a cluster of sandy ice cream.
"What's your name?"
"Emma."
"That's a pretty name."
"Thank you," Emma smiled. "What's your name?"
"Mike."
"I have an uncle Mike," Emma patted her pile of sand so that it looked a little bit like a castle.
"What are you making?"
"A sandcastle, silly."
"My daughter loves to make sandcastles. Her name is Mary."
"That's nice," Emma chewed on her lip, before digging a mote around the pile of sand.
"Would you like to come back to my van and meet Mary?"
"Sorry, my Mommy says I can't go anywhere with strangers."
"Oh, I'm not a stranger! I know your uncle Mike!"
"Really!" Emma was so temporarily amazed by this information, she stood up from her sandcastle.
"Yeah, of course! We went to college together! Come on, we'll just be a few minutes. Mary's in the van getting turkey sandwiches, you can have one."
"Only if I can take an extra one for my uncle Joey, 'cause he loves turkey sandwiches."
"Sure thing," Mike nodded.
Emma followed Mike, like the story her Mommy read to her about the Pied Piper. And then the whole thing was over in fifteen seconds. Emma realized that, as Mike picked her up by the collar of her pink dress and threw her into the car, that there was no Mary or turkey sandwiches. And as he got into the front seat and drove away even faster than Aunt Phoebe, Emma also realized that his name probably wasn't really Mike.
Nobody saw any of this, aside from a small baby sitting in his pram who, being eight months old at the time leanred nothing from it.
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"Ross, time?" Rachel asked groggily, elbowing Ross in the side when he didn't answer.
"Two fifty nine," Ross said, mid yawn.
"Gotta go."
"No," Ross pulled Rachel back onto the bench.
"I have to. I promised Emma I'd make sandcastles with her."
"Fine," Ross nodded. "I love you," he smiled.
"Cute," Rachel kissed Ross briefly, "but not going to convince me. I told Emma ten minutes, real time. Not Mommy time."
Rachel headed for the tree that Emma had been playing under moments ago, only to realize she was gone. Rachel turned on her heel and headed over to the slide, which was occupied by a terrified Erica, her tiny mouth open in a silent scream as she whizzed down the circular slide. When she saw no Emma, she changed her direction and went over to the monkey bars and then the teeter totter, the swings, the jungle gym, the snackbar.
"Hey," Rachel asked Monica, "do you know where Emma is?"
Monica was sitting in the sandbox with Jack. "She was just over there a second ago," Monica pointed to the tree.
"Yeah. She's not there anymore," Rachel bit on her nail, which up until that second, have been perfectly manicured, thanks to the at home spa her and Emma had done last week.
"You sure?"
"Yes! I looked all around for her."
"She'll be here somewhere, Rach. I can't even count how many times we thought we've lost Jack or Erica, and they were just hiding somewhere," Monica stood up, balancing Jack on her hip. "We'll look for her, okay?"
"Yeah,"
"Ross," Monica snapped her fingers. Ross sat up.
"Hm?"
"Come help us look for Emma, she's hiding or something."
"Hiding or something?" Ross stood up.
"Yeah, I mean, she'll have just wandered off," Monica assured Ross. "We'll go down by the river, you go up by the road. She'll be there somewhere."
Monica, Rachel and Jack took the river. "Chandler will be there if she comes back," Monica looked back to where Chandler sat opposite Erica, the two of them throwing sand at each other.
"Okay." Rachel tried to stop herself from going into full panic mode, because then she'd be imagining scenarios that involved Emma lying in a ditch, or drowning in the river. Instead, she concentrated simply on finding her daughter. The two of them split up once they got to the river, going in opposite directions to look for Emma. After walking the entire length of the river, looking in bushes, under benches, behind trees, Rachel was slowly but surely becoming worried.
She headed back, looking carefully under, into and behind any possible surface that could hold Emma, before running into Monica. "Any luck?" Monica asked.
Rachel swallowed. She felt like someone had a tight handle on her throat. "No," she croaked out. "You?"
"I'm sorry, honey. We'll go back and get Ross, okay? I'm sure he found her," Rachel noticed however, that even as Monica was soothing all of Rachel's worries, that she was holding Jack closer to her than normal, stroking her hair.
But when they found Ross a few minutes later, joined with Chandler and Jack, it was evident Emma hadn't been found. "Oh my god," Rachel's hands were shaking as she put them to her cheeks. "This isn't happening," she said, matter of factly, as though stating that it was Saturday, or that it was June.
"Okay, Rach," Ross put his hand on Rachel's back, pulling her close to him. "We'll go back to Monica and Chandler's, someone will stay in case Emma comes back, which I'm sure she will. We'll call the police and let her know we can't find her."
"I'll stay," Chandler volunteered. "But Mon, take Erica back, okay?" Chandler handed Jack over to Monica. "Hey, Rach? We're going to find her, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel smiled gently, as she and Ross, followed closely by Monica, walked off hand in hand, towards the house. Ross gently rubbing the place between Rachel's thumb and index finger. "Ross?"
"Yeah?"
"Do.. did you see her? At all? I mean, did you wake up for a second?"
"No," Ross shook his head. "No, I was out the whole time. I mean.. we would have heard her, if she had been.."
"Screaming?"
"Yeah," Ross squeezed Rachel's hand and she squeezed back, the two of them falling silent as they walked back to the house. Monica murmured quietly to Erica and Jack as they walked and when finally, they reached their house, Rachel was the first through the door, all but bursting into the hallway.
She headed towards the cordless phone, picking it up. "Should I.. 911?"
"Police station," Monica suggested, gently taking the phone from Rachel's hand, dialing the number for the police station, and then handing it back.
"H-hello?" Rachel's lip began to tremble when the man on the other end of the phone picked up.
"Hi, Westchester Police Station, how may I help you?"
"I'm.. I'm calling to report," Rachel swallowed, desperately trying to shoo away the tears that were filling her eyes. "A missing child," a choked sob came out. Ross motioned for Rachel to give the phone to him, but she shook her head. "Sorry," she said, pressing a hand to her eye. "My daughter, Emma. She's four. Just ten minutes, we were down at the park and I.. I fell asleep and when I woke up she was gone. No, we're just visiting friends. Yes. She's thirty eight inches tall, about.. thirty four pounds. White tights, black Mary Jane's, pink dress. No. No. Sure," Rachel gave the officer the address, before hanging up. "Thanks," she said, putting the phone back in it's cradle.
"They're coming as soon as they can," she whispered.
"You guys?" Phoebe had walked into the living room with Mike, each of them carrying a twin, Joey not far behind, holding a sandwich in one hand and a baby rattle in the other. "What's going on?"
"Emma's missing," Rachel said, more to the wall then to Phoebe.
"Oh, Rach," Phoebe put her hand to Aubrey's head. "I'm sorry."
"We just called the police," she said, again to the wall. "They're coming soon."
"Do you want anything? Tea?" Phoebe offered.
"Pheebs," Monica swallowed. "Why would she want tea?"
"God, I don't know, that's just what they always do in movies."
"It's okay," Rachel shook her head. "I.. do you think I should get photos, or something? Of Emma. I guess they need t-to see her."
Ross held his hand out to Rachel and together, the two of them went upstairs. "Oh my god," Monica shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Did she just.. disappear?" Jokey asked.
"I guess. I didn't see anything, with me and Chandler awake and all the other parents there.. you'd think someone saw something."
Upstairs, Rachel was sitting on the edge of the spare bed, her hands up to her ears. "Ross. This kind of thing doesn't happen in god damn Westchester. Emma's lived in New York her entire life, nothing's ever.. happened to her."
"I know," Ross said gently, rubbing Rachel's back. "Rach, sweetie, they're going to find Emma, okay? Chandler's down there and I bet he's got everybody looking for her, and I'm sure that when the police come they'll find her really quickly."
"Promise?" Rachel asked, and her voice sounded so little and innocent it made Ross feel awful.
"I promise," he kissed the top of her head as Rachel grabbed a handful of photos from her wallet, but the truth was that Ross didn't feel as confident as he sounded; it was his daughter too, his little baby Emma, he was much more worried than he let on. But Rachel and Ross had the kind of relationship that if Ross becoming worried, started to pace, his hands starting to tremble, she'd go right over the edge.
"Come on," Ross led her downstairs.
It was the kind of situation Rachel hated; she had always dealt poorly under pressure. She could remember in seventh grade having to give a debate on whether or not uniforms should be allowed in school. She got as far as opening her mouth, before she threw up all over the microphone. She'd been fired from the debate team. But this time was different, because it wasn't some stupid debate in front of her school. It was her daughter missing.
"Rach?" Ross nudged Rachel's shoulder.
"God. Sorry, yeah," Rachel shook her head slightly, as though she was trying to shake out her fear.
"Come on."