Author's Note: So I used to watch Friends all the time in middle school. And hearing about Matthew Perry's passing really hit me hard. And I couldn't stop thinking about the story he told when he had to fly by himself when he was five, and this is what came from that. Now I know that a kid flying by themselves in the early 1970s is very different from a kid flying by themselves in the early 2000s. But I didn't really write this to be accurate. I don't really know why I wrote it, but I hope you enjoy it.
Chandler groans and rubs his eyes as he steps onto the plane. He nearly missed the flight back home to New York. He's barely slept all week, trying to get ahead at work before the long weekend. He was able to take Friday off after Thanksgiving, but that meant having to stay late on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday and then rush to the airport to catch his flight. Even though he hates his job, he usually doesn't mind that he's staying late. It's not like he does much after he gets off work. Everyone else goes home to their families while he's trapped in a hotel room for the rest of the evening. So at least he can distract himself while he's at work. But staying late means that he hasn't been able to talk to Monica all week. Even before they were married, Chandler saw her basically every day for years and now he only sees her on the weekends if he's lucky. He misses her. He's hoping at the end of year, he can convince his boss to start talking about moving him back to New York, or at least somewhere in the northeast so he can be closer to home. He doesn't care about Thanksgiving; he still thinks it's a stupid holiday. But if it means it gets to spend four days with Monica, he'll eat every type of Thanksgiving food that's out there. Hell, he'll even eat more than Joey…well, maybe not that much.
He shuffles through the line until he finally reaches his seat. It's a smaller plane, there's only two seats in each row and there's a part of him that was hopeful that maybe he would get the row to himself. But when he finishes placing his suitcase in the overhead bin he looks down and sees…a kid.
A little kid.
She's sitting in the window seat with the tray table down. He watches as she draws on some pieces of paper. She has to be younger than Ben. Her feet don't even touch the ground. Chandler double checks his boarding pass, thinking that he must be at the wrong seat. But no, the two numbers match…this is the right seat.
"Uhh…hi," he starts and the girl looks up at him, with big blue eyes that stare right into his soul. "I can switch seats with your mom so you can sit with her."
"My mom's not on the plane," she says and goes back to her drawing.
"Oh, sorry," Chandler says. "I can switch with your dad, then."
"He's not on the plane either." She replies.
"What?" He asks and then sees the tag around her neck that says Unaccompanied Minor written on it. He realizes that he's holding up the line and sits down next to the girl. She's flying by herself? They let kids this young fly themselves? She's like four years old!
"I'm six and a half!" the girl says defensively and Chandler realizes that he's talking out loud.
"Oh great, that makes me feel so much better." He replies. "So where are your parents, then?"
"I'm spending Thanksgiving with my dad this year."
"Oh," Chandler says. After his parents got divorced, he spent most holidays either at boarding school or alone in his bedroom while his mom was off partying somewhere. He wants to say something. He has some idea of what she's going through. But he's Chandler and he never says the right thing. So he just decides to keep it simple. "So your mom lives in Oklahoma and your dad is in New York? You must fly all the time then."
"Uhh…yeah," The girl says a little too quickly. "Look my mom said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."
"Oh yeah, well…your mom is very smart." He says and runs his hands through his hair. Great, now everyone on the plane is going to think he's some creep. He just needs to get through the next three hours without saying something stupid. He can do that, right? He hopes that can just sleep through the flight. He's gotten really good at sleeping on planes in the past few months, with all the travelling. So he doesn't even have to worry about the kid. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, hoping that when he wakes up, he'll be back in New York.
He feels something sharp poking at his shoulder. He grunts and turns his head.
"Five more minutes, Mon," he mumbles but something pokes at him again. He opens his eyes and realizes that unfortunately he is still on the plane. He looks down and sees the girl poking him in the shoulder again.
"What?" he asks.
"You're snoring," she says.
"I don't snore!"
"Yes, do you do!"
"No, I…" he stops and realizes he's arguing with a six year old. Well…six and a half. Cause that matters.
"Look," she says and she holds up a piece of paper with a drawing on it. "That's you." He looks at the drawing of him asleep. It's not bad for a stick figure.
"What's that by my mouth?" he asks.
"Oh that's drool." She replies. "You were also drooling."
"I don't drool!" He then turns his head away and then quickly wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The girl starts laughing and hey, he made the kid laugh. That's got to count for something.
Chandler opens his mouth to say something but then has to grip the arm rests as the plane turns suddenly. The girl grabs onto his hand tightly as the captain apologizes over the speaker and says that they've hit some unexpected turbulence.
"Yeah, no shit," Chandler thinks to himself as he turns and sees that the girl is shaking, still holding tightly onto his hand.
"W-what was that?" she asks and he can see her bottom lip trembling. Chandler scrambles trying to think of something to say. The last thing he needs is for her to start crying.
"We probably just hit some bad weather," he says softly. "It'll be okay." When the plane shifted all of her drawings fell to the floor. "Here," he says and he reaches down picks up the pieces of paper. "You don't want to lose all of your drawings." And places them back on her tray.
"I lied earlier," she says quietly. "I've never flown on a plane before."
"Really?" Chandler asks. He doesn't want to judge the girl's family, but he can't believe someone would let a kid so young fly alone for first time the night before Thanksgiving. "Well I think that you're being really brave right now."
"I don't feel brave," she says and lets go of his hand. "I want to go home."
"You'll be home soon."
"No, I want to go home back to Tulsa! I want my dad to move back home! No one understands!"
"I do," Chandler says suddenly.
"You do?" she looks up at him. Her face is red as he can see the tears falling down her cheeks.
"Yeah," he hands her his napkin so she can clean her face. "My parents divorced when I was nine. And it felt like my whole life turned upside down."
"Yeah, that's how it feels. I've never met anyone else with divorced parents before," she says.
"Oh yeah there's a lot of us out there," Chandler says. "It's like a special club we're all a part of. I promise you're not alone in this."
"Thanks," she says and sticks her hand out. "My name is Molly. Since I guess we're not strangers anymore."
"I guess not," he shakes her hand. "I'm Chandler."
The rest of the flight goes by quickly. Chandler tells her about New York and all the fun places that she can go to with her dad.
"And when you get back to Tulsa, you can tell all of your friends about where you went and that you flew on a plane. I'll bet they'll be super jealous."
"Yeah, but I cried on the plane," she says quietly.
"Well they don't need to know about that part." he replies.
"Oh, good point." She pauses for a moment. "So where are you going for Thanksgiving?"
"I'm going to be with my wife and our friends."
"Wait," she starts. "Your wife lives in New York and you live in Tulsa?"
"Well I work in Tulsa," Chandler says. "But I fly home to New York for the weekends."
"That's a lot of flying."
"I know," he responds. "And my arms sure are tired!"
She just stares at him.
"Oh come on that was funny!" he says.
"No, it wasn't." Molly says and she goes back to drawing.
"Do you like drawing?" he asks.
"Yeah," she says. "I really like it."
"You're very good at it."
"You really think so?" she asks and his heart cracks. Has anyone ever said that they liked her drawings?
"Yes," he says sincerely. "I really do."
He spends the remainder of the flight thinking. Thinking about a little girl who was likely caught up in a messy divorce, and who now has to spend the night alone on a plane full of strangers. He also thinks of a little boy who spent Thanksgiving alone in his room, who grew to use humor and sarcasm to deflect and hide his pain. He wished that there was someone who could have told that little boy that everything would be alright. That in the end he would find his own family.
"Woah!" Molly says and snaps him out of his thoughts. "Look at that!"
He looks out the window and sees the bright lights of the city coming into view.
"That's New York?" Molly asks.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Chandler says.
"Yeah, super cool! There's so many lights!"
"Yeah this my favorite part of the flight. When you first see the city come into view." He says. "Ok so the plane will start getting closer to the ground. It may feel a little weird. You're not scared, are you?'
"No," she replies as she looks out the window. "I'm not scared anymore.
When the plane finally lands, he waits for the crowds to die down. He's learned that it's easier to wait for the plane to empty than trying to fight the crowd.
Once the plane is mostly empty, he stands in the aisle and grabs his suitcase. He waits for Molly to grab her backpack from underneath the seat.
"So your dad will meet you at the gate?" he asks.
"Yeah," she answers. "Someone from the airport is supposed to walk with me."
"Great," he says. "Well, Happy Thanksgiving."
She begins to walk towards the front of the plane where the flight attendants are but then turns around quickly and wraps her arms around him.
"Thank you," she says. "For everything."
"You're welcome," he says and it feels like something is pulling on his heart strings. "Now go on, your dad is waiting for you."
She nods and turns around again, walking to the front of the plane to the flight attendant who will escort her to her dad. Chandler walks off the plane and takes a deep breath. He somehow made it back for Thanksgiving. He sees Molly run out the gate towards a man waiting near the door. The man picks her up and holds her tightly. Chandler smiles, happy to know that Molly was able to reunite with her dad.
It takes forever, but he finally makes it back to the apartment. He hurries through the door of the building and sighs as he walks up the stairs. He tells himself that one day they're going to move somewhere on the first floor where he doesn't have to keep climbing all these steps. He opens the door slowly and tries to be quiet as he walks inside the apartment. It's well past midnight, and he doesn't want to wake Monica up. He closes the door and takes off his coat and his shoes.
He sees Monica asleep on the couch. She has an old blanket wrapped around her and her hair has fallen onto her face and Chandler's heart swells. He sits down on the table across from the couch and slowly brushes her hair off of her face. God, he's missed her. He leans in and kisses her forehead. He feels her shift and she slowly opens her eyes.
"You're back," she grins and wraps her arms tightly around him. Chandler buries his head into her neck and they melt into each other.
"What are you doing on the couch?" he asks and sits down next to her.
"I don't know I guess I fell asleep," she replies and pulls away. "I've been having a hard time sleeping lately."
"Me too," he says softly and he almost calls his boss and quits right then and there. But the rational part of his brain realizes that telling your boss that you quit in the middle of the night when you're really just sleep deprived is not the best idea in the world.
"I missed you." She whispers.
"I missed you too," he leans in and kisses her.
"Alright," Monica says after he pulls away. "Now you go take a shower."
"Monica," he whines. "It's almost one in the morning."
"And you've been on a plane for the past 3 hours. So go wash up." She pushes him lightly on his chest.
"Yes, dear," he says.
"Love you."
"Love you, too"
He showers quickly before putting on his pajamas and sliding into bed. He's not "Monica Clean" but it'll work for tonight. Monica throws her arm over his chest and scoots closer to him.
"I hope the flight wasn't too bad." She says.
"Wasn't bad at all," Chandler smiles. "I even made a friend."
"Oh, really," Monica yawns. "You'll have to tell my about it tomorrow."
Chandler relaxes and closes his eyes and for the first time in days, falls asleep almost instantly.