Dear Jack
Chapter 4: Winter 2009
~.~
I'm sorry
That in your condition
The sunshine's been missing
But, don't believe that it isn't there…
We're really not there
-Jack's Mannequin, There, There Katie
~.~
Chandler bit his bottom lip as he watched his daughter's face, wanting to cry at how hardened and beyond her years the expression was. She was curled up on her side, clutching her teddy bear in her tiny arms, insisting she didn't need to hold his hand during her bone marrow aspiration and biopsy. The first time she had this procedure done, she had bawled. Now, rather, she lay still, stiller than most five-year-olds are capable of staying, looking completely devoid of emotion.
Crossing his arms, Chandler took a deep breath, wishing he had gotten to go to parent-teacher conferences today and Monica had come here instead of the other way around. He found himself kicking himself for that thought before it was even complete, though, feeling like a terrible parent at just the notion.
Erica had been responding well to treatment, and this round of testing—having blood taken, an MRI, the bone marrow biopsy—was being done to see if the last round of therapy had put her cancer into remission. They hadn't told Erica this possibility existed, though, that she might be better, because she was too young to understand a possibility of something without it being true. At this point in time, they were hoping for the best but bracing themselves for the worst.
Erica's big blue eyes stared across the room, past her father, at the white wall. She was all but ignoring the doctor performing the procedure, though he was talking to her. She stared into nothingness, never so much as flinching or moving or crying. When she did look up, meeting her father's eye, he attempted to force a smile but failed, tears involuntarily welling up in the back of his eyes, and he found he was nothing but grateful when she again looked away, not wanting her to see him cry.
~.~
"Complete remission?" Monica repeated hesitantly, tears in her eyes, unable to believe the news they had been waiting a week for.
"Complete remission," Dr. Craig repeated with a smile, happy to be able to deliver happy news. Monica reached up to wipe away tears (happy tears) at that, Chandler squeezing her hand but remaining silent. "And her white blood cell count is almost completely recovered, so I see no reason for her not to return to school after the holidays," he added, knowing that was something Erica frequently asked about.
"And that's-that's it?" Chandler asked hesitantly.
Dr. Craig smiled at them from across his desk. "I'll have you schedule an appointment sometime at the beginning of the New Year to retest, and then every six months after that. Childhood cancers aren't without further complication, and, as we discussed before, chemotherapy can even cause other cancers later in life, and there is always the possibility of relapse, which is why she will continue to come in for check-ups, but," he smiled at them, "right now, you go home and enjoy the holidays."
Chandler and Monica looked at each other, both teary-eyed, before turning back to the doctor.
"Thank you," Monica smiled through her tears as she stood up.
"Thank you," Chandler echoed, following Monica out the door, the two embracing as soon as they were through it, holding each other tightly, wanting to stretch out this moment a little longer. Monica folded into Chandler's embrace, arms around his waist, crying into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. After a moment, they pulled back, Chandler leaning down to peck her lightly on the lips as they smiled at each other through happy tears.
After so many months of bad news, good news felt pretty damn good, and they were holding onto it for as long as they could.
~.~
At the sound of the front door of Ross and Rachel's house opening, Jack, Emma, and Erica came running down the stairs, Erica in the lead, throwing herself at her mother from the second to last step.
"Hi," Monica laughed, lifting the little girl up. "Did you feed them all sugar?" she asked Rachel, who had walked into the hallway now, with a laugh. Rachel shook her head and shrugged, Emma and Jack running past her to the living room. "Guess what?" she said, looking down at Erica.
Erica's eyes immediately lit up, only one hope in her mind, one thing, through everything else, that she had been pouting about for months now. "I get to go to school?" she asked excitedly, and Monica nodded, trying to hold back her tears. "Am I still sick?"
Monica shook her head. "Not right now. You have to keep going to the doctor to make sure you don't get sick again, but you're not sick anymore."
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" Erica wiggled to get down from her mother's embrace, and when Monica set her down, she ran in the direction the other two children were heading. "Jack! Jack! Guess what?"
"Smartest damn five-year-old I've ever met," Chandler laughed.
"You guys!" Rachel exclaimed, pulling both of them in simultaneously for a hug. "We should all have dinner tonight to celebrate! Ross should be home any minute," she suggested as she pulled back. "Or you guys probably want to be alone. Or call everyone you know first. Or send out a mass email."
"All thoughts that crossed our mind on the way over," Chandler laughed, the three kids running back into the entryway where the adults were still standing.
"Can we have ice cream for dinner?" Erica asked, sensing the adults' excitement, and prepared to take full advantage of it. Chandler and Rachel both looked at Monica, giving small shrugs of approval.
"Just this one time," Monica replied.
"Yes!"
"But, no fighting at all tonight. And it is just this one time," Monica reiterated, but the three children were already cheering in excitement, running to get their coats and shoes. "So, what do the grown-ups want to eat?" Monica turned back towards Rachel and Chandler.
"We…can't just have ice cream?" Chandler asked slowly.
Rachel laughed. "So, don't ask Mom for ice cream for dinner, ask Dad?"
"Hey, I have never let them have ice cream for dinner," Chandler defended himself. "Well, okay, only once," Chandler added off of Monica's look, but she didn't say a word, having come to realize over the last several months that there were things of far greater concern than having ice cream for dinner.