Chapter 10: You're a Mama, Courteney…

DREAM

They were in the Barcaloungers, seated side by side, in Apartment 19, holding hands as if they were an old married couple in rocking chairs looking out over their front porch.

Courteney felt a smile grace her lips as she sensed Matthew lean in to press a kiss to her temple. It made her think back to a similar moment back in Season 5, except then, she had been cuddled right in his lap.

She relished these visits from him. How he came to her in her dreams. Tonight hadn't been a particularly easy reunion, as Courteney had felt the need to tell him that the circumstances surrounding his death were now under an active criminal investigation. It was unnerving to know that, even in her lucid subconscious, she was informing an apparition, vision, whatever he was now, that his demise on Earth was now being looked into by the cops. It had further unnerved her to see Matthew's reaction, and how supremely unconcerned the news made him. Perhaps that was because he was now in a plane of existence that answered to a much higher authority, one way above the pay grades of the LAPD.

Matthew had shown more sentimentality when Courteney had mentioned to him that the 20th anniversary of the Friends finale had passed. His grin was wistful.

"Wish I could have been there…." he murmured. He stroked her arm. "Did the rest of you at least celebrate?"

Courteney shook her head. "It would have been wrong without you there. We never had any discussions about it. Heck, I was the only one to even acknowledge it, on Insta…"

He nodded in understanding, running his fingers through her dark, midnight tresses. His lips found her temple again.

"2 decades…. you know what this also means, don't you?"

Courteney turned to him expectantly, blinking. Matthew's body concaved inward as a hearty laugh coursed through him.

"Oh, I get it! You're just playing dumb cause then it would mean acknowledging our age!" When she still tilted her head at him bemusedly, Matthew smiled.

"Is Coco doing well?"

Courteney beamed, touched. It was the first time he had mentioned her daughter in quite a while. "She's going to be….. gracious, 20 in a matter of days…."

"And….. there it is!" Matthew's grin was dazzling. The pair fell into an easy and companionable silence for a few beats.

"Do you remember when she was born?" Courteney finally asked.

"Oh, boy, do I!" Matthew chuckled. And he was off, telling her the story, from his memories….

FLASHBACK: June 2004

"I'm gonna have to go to the hospital now, I guess…" Matthew spoke into the microphone when the reporter asked for comment. "Courteney… congratulations. I'm gonna come see you at the hospital now, probably. I just found out – and now I'm on TV… instead of just calling. That's weird. All right. Love you!"

That was what he said – cool and cavalier, if also genuine – but internally he wanted to run victoriously through the streets of LA. He wanted to crow and whoop and holler and embrace random strangers because the dearest wish of one the dearest people in his life had come to pass: Courteney was a mother, at last!

The automatic doors to the hospital opened, admitting a man adorned in shades. Even at nearly the height of summer, the weather was still cool enough in Southern California to warrant a light jacket, which he now had draped over his well-built, if not exactly muscular, frame. An LA Kings baseball cap was pulled low over his brow, worn as a form of protest, even though the team hadn't even made the Stanley Cup playoffs this year, not even close…

The gentleman paused in the waiting area, staring up at the flatscreen TVs going over the registration desk. The one tuned to CNN was playing back footage of Ronald Reagan speaking in front of the presidential seal. Ronald Reagan yuk-yukking with himself after making some lame joke. The dim light bulb had finally croaked more than a week ago, so naturally the news media had been unable to focus on anything but the bastard's state funeral for much of the past ten days.

The gentleman in the baseball cap pulled out his phone and checked the floor and room number. The information, he had come upon from a reliable source – the best there was. Satisfied, he headed for the elevators. No one bothered him, nobody even noticed him, and he found himself relishing the anonymity.

The elevator music as he ascended was tacky, even dinky, and he fought to tune it out. He was suddenly acutely aware of the shivers percolating up his skin – was there a draft in here? His stomach jolted, and he talked himself into believing it was because he was hungry.

The man in the LA Kings cap finally emerged onto the corresponding floor. He couldn't quite believe his luck that he had made it this far without causing some kind of scene. Eyes trained to the doors lining both sides of the ward, he paced down the linoleum hallway, trying to keep his body still. How wonderful it was, to walk into a busy place such as a hospital and not get caught, not even get….

"Excuse me, sir?"

…. Damnit. He'd thought too soon.

The capped gentleman turned to see a nurse slowing out of a light jog as she came up to him. Behind her and just over her head was another TV tuned to CNN. Wolf Blitzer was making that stupid face he got whenever he attempted to appear serious or grave. It actually just made him look constipated.

"I'm sorry, but this wing of the maternity ward has been sealed off. We have a high profile-VIP guest recovering from childbirth, and she mustn't be disturbed."

The man in the cap and shades hesitated for just a moment. The second he opened his mouth, he knew he'd be outed just by his voice alone. Fuck it. Calmly, he reached up and slowly peeled the sunglasses from his face.

"Well, then you can explain to Mrs. Arquette why you were the one to turn her onscreen husband away…." He lifted his head, expression mild but determined while radiating raw power. The kind of power you could only wield if you were….

The nurse's eyes expanded in star-struck wonder, her face blushing about as red as Wolf Blitzer's surely did when he stood in the sun too long. She sucked in a breath. "Oh, my God, it's Matthew Perry!..." she whispered half to herself. Matthew smirked. And three…. two….. cue the charm.

"And I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?" He now sent her a dazzling smile. Within seconds, she was putty in his hands, reduced to nothing more than a star-struck, stuttering mess.

"Oh, yes, sir! - I mean, no, sir!" The nurse squeaked. Her face warmed even further, if that were possible. "Um…. if you'll just follow me…."

Matthew dipped his head in mild deference. "To the ends of the earth. Lead the way, m'aam." The nurse twittered and nervously pranced ahead, guiding one of the most recognizable stars on the planet deeper into the maternity ward. Matthew followed calmly, though with a tiny spring in his step. Still got it… still have the touch….

His face scrunched up into a picture-perfect imitation of Chandler at his own thoughts. Still got it? Don't age yourself before your time, Perry…. It's been barely a month – well, technically, four and a half months, but really a bit more than a month since…

"They say Jennifer Aniston was here just yesterday," the nurse prattled, the nerves seeping out of her voice. She stole a glance at the superstar matching her step for step down the hallway and turned her practically burning face askance. She murmured something to herself, on the edge of her breath. It sounded like, "I can't believe it! I'm talking to Chandler Bing!"

Matthew's lips pursed. "You don't get out much, do you?"

The nurse giggled. "No, sir. I mean, yes, sir! I mean…." Groaning, she buried her face in her palm.

Matthew studied her, amused. "Usually, I'm supposed to be the one tripping over words." The nurse glanced up at him with a weak, apologetic grin, though she seemed thankful for his gentle teasing.

The pair finally came to a door no more nondescript than any other in this ward. Matthew glanced about, bemused: when the nurse had said 'sealed off,' he had been expecting to see something tangible as a barrier. Like crime scene tape. Or armed guards.

"Mama and baby have been resting, but they should be awake…" The nurse murmured gently, opening the door to the hospital room just a crack. "Knock, knock…" she whispered, before opening the door further and slipping inside. Matthew followed.

The nurse now stood aside, her smile bashful and nervous, revealing Matthew with a kind of ta-da flourish! "Here's your husband!" she trilled. A beat. "Well, your fake husband. Other husband. Oh…. God…."

From where she lay reclined in the fluffy pillows of the hospital gurney, backlit by the late afternoon sun, Courteney Cox Arquette simply smiled with tired breathlessness. "He's better than my husband…." she murmured with genuine affection.

Matthew's gaze roved over her. His former onscreen spouse appeared tired, but deliriously happy. He side-eyed the nurse.

"Don't mind us – we've just been commiserating about how we don't get out much." The irony of saying this to a bedridden woman who had just given birth was not lost on him. Even so, he felt the uncontrollable instinct to take the joke as far as it would go. "We haven't seen the sun in eight days! Our skin is pale! We're vampires, I tell you! Vampires!"

The nurse let out a squeal. "Oh, my God! You sound just like him in person!" At television's greatest power couple both giving her bemused looks, she faltered, gulping. "…. I'm gonna go now…."

Courteney smirked, though her voice was genuine. "Thank you, Linda."

Linda scampered from the room. After a beat, she poked her head back in. "I cried when you two had your twins!" She almost immediately clapped a hand over her mouth following her blurted outburst, before ducking away again in mortification.

Courteney just chuckled, the sound turning into a slight groan as she stretched out in the bed. "I think I would remember if this one was my third…."

"That's what I said when I was drinking last night…." At her startled, concerned and even admonishing look, Matthew gawped at her. "I'm kidding!"

Courteney muttered something under her breath that sounded like 'Better be' before she was fixing her television partner and dearest friend with a smile.

Matthew grinned back in a way that showed all his teeth.

"Hey, freak show."

She smirked back radiantly. "Hi, freak face…"

Crossing to the bed, the couple exchanged kisses on cheeks, the corners of their mouths.

"You just popped a human out of yourself and you still look this good….?"

"Much better….!" Courteney beamed, her eyes sparkling vivaciously as she appraised him up and down.

"…. The other mothers must be jealous!" Glancing behind him, Matthew fished for a chair and plopped into it.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Truly, if someone had told him without any context that this woman had had a baby the day before, he wouldn't have believed them. He grinned at his on-camera bride tenderly.

"How are you feeling?"

Courteney exhaled deeply through an exhilarated smile. "… Indescribable!"

Matthew beamed, hunching forward a little in his chair, utterly enamored by her. "So, Nurse Hit-in-the-Head mentioned that Jenny was in here recently?"

"She's over the moon," Courteney sighed happily. "I think she might try to get Godmother tattooed on her forehead…."

"Our Jen's never been a tattoo kind of gal…." Matthew rumbled, shifting a little in his chair. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, falling on….

He swallowed hard. Oh. Right. Given that he was in a hospital delivery room, he should have figured there would be a baby in it.

The bassinet was at the foot of Courteney's hospital bed, tufts of pink – blanket and skin alike – just poking up from over the guardrail edges.

He could feel Courteney watching him, following his gaze. He gulped again. "You're…. you're a mama, Courteney…."

"Yup…. I'm a mama…." In his peripheral vision, he thought he noticed a happy tear dribble out onto her cheek. A slight silence and then:

"Isn't she beautiful?"

His throat was now completely dry. Damn it to hell, what he wouldn't give for a cigarette!... "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen…." It came out in a croak, from somewhere almost outside of himself. He could scarcely believe it. His dearest friend had just had a child!...

"Well, go on! You can look!" Courteney encouraged him, an amused chuckle in her voice.

Matthew awkwardly stumbled out of the chair and rounded the base of the bed. The baby, swaddled in pink blankets, lay silent and still. As he gazed down at the infant, a kind of coo bubbled up from her, almost as if from the bottom of a dream.

Matthew rested his chin in his palm, deep in thought. He sensed Courteney watching him anxiously.

At last, he managed:

"My God! She's…. she's David! David in a damn dress!"

Courteney's giggle pealed like church bells. "I'm glad you think so…." she gazed at him fondly.

"Are you kidding? I'm glad I think so! I'm so shitting on Schwimmer next time I…. blah!" He lolled out his tongue at the tongue twister. "Try saying that three times fast!"

Sapphire eyes sparkling, Courteney proceeded to dutifully do exactly that.

Matthew smirked. "…. Show off." She beamed at him. A companionable lull came over man, new mother and baby.

"So where is the proud papa?" Matthew finally glanced about.

"I sent him down to the cantina. He needed to eat."

Or sit in a corner and suck his thumb, Matthew thought, but didn't say. He half-laughed to himself, instead postulating: "I can't believe a guy who still looks like he's ten managed to reproduce!"

Courteney cocked a loaded eyebrow. "And I can't believe a guy who still acts like he's ten hasn't." The witty riposte was delivered teasingly, but by her words, if not exactly her tone, Matty could tell: he was pushing his luck. In ten years, Courteney had developed an admirably high tolerance for his brand of humor, but there were moments where even she thought he was taking things too far. A certain blooper from Season 9 came to mind, a scene in which Monica had been dressed in a little black nightie bemoaning about how one of the other girls (he couldn't remember which one at the moment) had thought she was a slut, and he'd come back with: "Have you looked in the mirror?" Courteney had taken it on the chin, but Matthew could tell – she had been annoyed.

"…. Touché….." he mumbled, ducking his head contritely. There was a brief, awkward silence.

"…. Would you like to hold her?" Courteney's crooning voice took pity on him.

Matthew snapped his head up, startled. "I…. I can't…."

"Yes, you can," she grinned at him encouragingly.

Matthew stared back down at the pink bundle in the bed. Slowly, almost too slow, he got a hand under her and was astonished to find how she fit right into the palm of it. Courteney watched him anxiously.

"Mind her head…"

"Court: I know what I'm doing!" Matthew sent her a disarming smile. "I did grow up with three sisters, you know…." Still, he was exceedingly careful as he tucked the baby into the crook of his arm, bouncing her a little. He had expected for the little tyke to awaken and scream bloody murder, and was relieved when she didn't.

…. She really did look like Arquette in a fricking dress, and the cosmic schadenfreude of it almost made him cackle. Matthew swallowed thickly again.

"What's her name?"

"Coco…." Courteney breathed.

He snapped his head up in befuddlement. "Coco as in the drink?"

"No."

"Coco as in the perfume." A beat, and his face scrunched up as he berated himself. "….How do I know that….?"

"Nooooo…" Courteney laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Oooh! Oooh! I know! Coco Chico!" And he threw his voice to sound like Tim Allen.

Courteney gave him a patiently admonishing look. "The joke is Topo Chico, and you know it. Remember? We all went to see The Santa Clause our first Christmas together on set."

Matthew giggled awkwardly. "Yeah…. I remember…." He contented himself with bouncing baby Coco for a few minutes. Then: "Not that it's any of my business, but seriously, though: why Coco?"

Courteney smiled exasperatedly. "It's short for my full name."

Matthew frowned. "Well, then why not just name her after yourself?"

"My very Jewish mother-in-law, that's why not! This was the best compromise. Apparently, the Torah says a woman can't name her baby after herself."

Matthew snorted. "Old bat. She's like Glenn Close in Sunset Boulevard, but worse." That wasn't even the biggest crack he could make against Patricia Arquette.

Courteney chuckled. For a moment, she settled back into the pillows and contented herself in watching her best friend hold her baby. Head ducked into the little pink blankets, making exaggerated faces at her daughter, Matty didn't see.

"…. You're going to make a wonderful father…."

When he glanced up in surprise at her murmuring, she amended. "Someday."

Matthew grinned sheepishly at her, before turning back to stare at Coco again. "…. It's too late for me, Courteney. I'm not built to love like that." Though that didn't change the fact that he wanted to be. In any case, how was he in any position right now to care for a baby? How could he even think of subjecting a child to his own personal demons? Matthew couldn't see how.

"That's not true. You are," Courteney insisted. "You're going to get well, Matthew Perry, and you are going to find someone. And something wonderful will happen…"

Matthew smiled at her heavily, a tinge of sadness to it. "Yeah, well, I forgot who I was talking to…." They held the mutual gaze for a beat. After a moment, he cleared his throat and tenderly set Coco back down into the bassinet. He circled the bed.

"Congratulations, babe. You did it! I'm so proud of you!"

"I know!" Courteney's smile and eyes danced.

Matthew laughed at Monica's signature catchphrase. "You crazy woman… you still got it…."

"If you want me to keep saying it, keep talking!"

"Right, all right…" He glanced at his watch. "I gotta go." Bending, he chastely pecked her on the lips goodbye, which she happily accepted.

Courteney beamed. "Thanks for coming, sweetie…."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world!" And he meant it. At the door, he turned back, basking in the sight of her. His lips twisted into a loving smirk. "Love ya, Court."

She grinned tiredly back. "Love you too, hon."

Matthew pursed his lips happily, then slipped from the hospital room.

END OF FLASHBACK

END OF DREAM