Chapter 4: A Wedding & A Bedtime Story
Beaming, Rachel lifted her head close to Ross. Laughing, the newlywed couple embraced and kissed to applause and whoops. The new Mrs. Geller errantly tossed her bouquet aside, the clump of flowers flying in a high arc into the congregation.
It was like they were seeking him out. Chandler caught the clump almost without thinking about it, then blushing at the supposed significance, hurriedly passed the buck over to Joey. The motion wasn't quick enough for the bride not to see who had actually caught the bouquet and Rachel threw back her head and laughed.
At the reception, Chandler and Joey locked eyes, the latter nodding without his buddy needing to ask. He slipped off for the hotel just down the street from the church and venue, where Ross and Rachel had married at last.
It was just over a year since Monica's death. In that time, Chandler had moved into the property in Westchester County with his twins, to be closer to Monica' parents. Joey and Phoebe had moved into Apartment 20 and were, by all accounts, guarding it well. Many of Monica's touches were left undisturbed. Though now in Apartment 19, Rachel and Ross eventually intended to bring toddler Emma out of the city to be closer to his parents as well.
Chandler now approached the bride, who was embracing her father. Chandler pondered Rachel curiously. Was she now his sister-in-law? …. Not quite, he surmised.
Turning her gaze to him, Rachel seemed to read his thoughts instantly. "Daddy, you remember Chandler, my brother-in-law?" Dr. Green shook Chandler's hand, even kind enough to warble out his condolences once again. At Chandler's bemused expression, Rachel lifted an eyebrow and moved to hug him. Drawing back, her own expression was no nonsense.
"We're family, Chandler. I married Ross, and you married Monica. That makes us siblings. Understood?"
Chandler did, smiling warmly as he pulled her back in for another hug. "I'm gonna go check on the kids," he whispered. He ambled down the street to the hotel and headed up to his suite.
Hotels were difficult places for him. A hotel was where he had first kissed and made love to his wife. A hotel was where they had had their first big fight as a couple on what was supposed to have been a romantic weekend alone, back when they had been sneaking about under their friends' noses. A hotel was where they had wed and consummated their marriage.
Thankfully, the room's layout was nothing like any of the other places where he had made such memories with Monica. Slipping inside, he found Joey standing over two travel bassinets with all the protectiveness of a golden retriever, his discerning eye shifting from Jack to Erica and back again. On the easy chair in one corner, Phoebe was bouncing toddler Emma on her lap, trying to get the little girl to stop fussing; meeting Chandler's eye, the masseuse winced with sympathy.
"You OK?"
Chandler huffed and flung himself prostrate on one of the beds. "Yeah. You guys can head on down if you want; I've got this."
Joey snorted. "This is our responsibility too, you know." He eyed Chandler with heavy meaning. "We're family, all of us. If we break apart, we have nothing left!"
Chandler nodded, swinging up into a sitting position. He held out his arms.
"Which one?" Joey asked.
"Whoever needs me more." That would have been a whimpering Erica, who Joey now lifted out of her bassinet and passed to her father. "Hey…. Cutie…. You sleepy? ….. Come here, you can rest with Daddy…."
Eleven Years Later
Chandler pressed a kiss to his wife's headstone and rose up out of his crouch, eyes squinting at the glare of the sunset. He studied the engraved words: MONICA GELLER-BING, BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER.
"I'll see you later, Mon." Then he began his walk from the cemetery. As he left, he felt a breeze tickle his hair, and he smiled to himself. Monica's love for him was like the wind: while he could no longer see it, he could still feel it. She had saved him...
Chandler came here to visit his bride every day, his own personal vigil, which was helped by how his house was a short walk away. Arriving back at his own little slice of suburbia, Chandler entered the house to find Ross cleaning up dinner, Emma happily washing the plates. Chandler patted his niece's head.
"Meal was great, man."
Chandler smirked. "You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. We both know who was the cook in my marriage."
Erica now came bounding down the steps in her PJs. "Ready for bed, Daddy!" she called.
"Well, before you do, come on! We want to show you and your dad something!" Ross led his daughter, niece and brother-in-law up to the attic. It looked less cluttered than Chandler remembered, and if he didn't know any better, he'd say his wife had done the sorting.
Just the same….
"When did we get so much stuff?"
Ross smirked. "I think you and Mon accrued so much because it was yours."
Chandler picked up a lamp that he recognized as having once been in the apartment. "Well, Monica had the interior design taste, not me."
"Daddy? What's this?"
Ross and Chandler glanced back at Erica, who was holding a white garment across her chest, with a matching hat in one fist. The clothes were much too big for her still. Chandler swallowed hard. "That was…. that was your mother's uniform, when she would go to work in the restaurant." Javu…. He hadn't thought about that place in years.
Erica wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Tell me again. What happened to her."
Ross smiled sadly. "You know what happened, sweetheart. Mommy died just after you were born."
Erica sighed and glanced down at the uniform.
"For the record, you look beautiful in it," Chandler threw out. "Just like your mom."
Erica let out a wet chuckle before placing the uniform back lovingly. She clomped downstairs, leaving her father, uncle and cousin to peruse the cleaned attic.
Back in the bedroom she shared with her twin brother, the adjacent bathroom was open and she could hear Jack brushing his teeth inside. Auntie Rachel was turning down the coverlet for her bed.
"Erica? Time for bed. Did you brush….?"
"I already did," Erica sighed. Rachel smirked, and let it drop. Erica climbed into bed, her aunt taking a seat on the edge.
"You…. have a good day at school?"
"Yeah," Erica chirped. "It was good."
Rachel smiled. Even after all these years, she was still trying to learn where the boundaries lay between aunt and alternate mother. Phoebe was much the same way. She popped her lips. "OK. Go to sleep, now."
"Bedtime story first!" Erica pleaded, sitting up.
Rachel smirked, bemused, but acquiesced. "What story do you want to hear?"
Erica grinned. "The Chef and the Dork Who Fell In Love."
"Funny. You probably know that story by now better than I do…." Rachel turned her head in the direction of the bathroom absently. "Jacky, you wanna hear a story?"
"I'm listening!"
Rachel took a deep breath and began. "Once upon a time…. There was a chef…. And a dork." She frowned. "For politically correct purposes, why don't we call him a data analyst?"
"That's what Dad does?"
"I don't know!" Rachel chuckled. "And this chef had one dream in mind: to fall in love, marry and have children."
"He was her dream," Erica interrupted, eyes sparkling and pining at the romance of it all.
Rachel nodded, swallowing through a thick lump in her throat. "I shouldn't be telling you this…"
"No, go on!..."
"OK, but you have to understand there were some bumps along the way."
From the bathroom, Jack mumbled something that may have been snarky and Rachel cocked her ear. "What was that, Jack?"
"Nothing!"
"…. They were friends at first. Great friends. But eventually, someone had to bend, into greater feelings. She was unsatisfied by some of the men that she dated…." (Erica made a face at this, still at an age where she could not imagine her mother being with anyone other than her dad). "…. He could be….. fearful, when it came to the greater commitments that are required to found a marriage and keep it together. But eventually, they went to London together on a trip, and they fell in love. It was a passionate affair, from what I can gather, though they tried to keep their love a secret from friends, at first. Eventually, they decided to marry." Rachel wiped at her eyes. "It was a beautiful wedding. The pair settled down and eventually they had two babies. But when the babies were brought into the world… the chef couldn't hang on, and she tragically succumbed. And her husband was left heartbroken, even though he had the hope of their children, a reminder of his wife, something to remember her by, there with him. As well as having the support of friends and family. He retired to the suburbs, raising his kids the way he knew his love would have wanted to. And, well… he tried to go on. The End."
"Didn't he live happily ever after?"
"Well, I did say he tried to go on," Rachel shrugged.
"Great story, Aunt Rache…. But it needs a new ending."
"It needs monsters!" Jack suggested, crossing into the bedroom and climbing onto his bed.
"Oh, does it?" Rachel beamed at her nephew, kissing his forehead. "All right, munchkin: goodnight."
The favored aunt exited her niece and nephew's bedroom and plodded downstairs, where she saw her husband and daughter pulling on their coats. Chandler was hunched over his laptop at the table.
"What story was it tonight?" he asked without even lifting his head from his work.
Rachel brushed past him and kissed his cheek. "Yours." She checked to see that the kitchen had been cleaned to standards that her late sister-in-law would have approved of. "Chandler, are you sure you don't want one of us to stay here tonight? Sleep on the couch?"
Chandler lifted his head out of the blue light of his laptop, smiling wearily. "Nah, I got it, Rache. Thanks."
She smiled, crossing to the foyer where her family was waiting, ruffling his hair as she went. "Love you, Doofus."
"Love you too, sis."
As soon as he heard the door close behind him, Chandler picked up a remote and clicked it at the CD player. Familiar chords came wafting over him as he turned back to his work:
I was born the day you kissed me…. and I died inside the night you left me! But I lived, oh, how I lived… while you loved me….