Medical Center.
VIP Maternity Ward.
"OMG! She's gorgeous!"
Rachel, all dolled up and glowing, cradled Emma with a sweet smile while Ross filmed her blissfully with the camera Adam had gifted. The door swung open, and everyone piled in, gasping in unison.
"I'm so glad you two hooked up after a few drinks!"
Aunt Monica scooped up little Emma, hugging her tight and gushing over her like she couldn't get enough. Her voice cracked with emotion—she was totally smitten! Sure, this wasn't her first rodeo as an aunt. Ross's son Ben was already eight. But Ben? No match for Emma.
I mean, one's a sneaky kid from a scheming ex who tricked Ross into footing the bill, barely showing up. The other? A lovechild from a drunken night with her big bro, carried by her bestie, always around. Totally different vibes!
"My turn, Aunt Phoebe!"
Phoebe reached out, snagging Emma from Monica. She hugged her close, cooing, "Oh, sweetie, you're just too cute—I could squish your little head!" Then, catching herself, she glanced at everyone and added, "But, uh, I won't!"
"Alright, Aunt Phoebe's done—Uncle Joey's up!"
Joey clapped his hands, taking Emma next. "Whoa, she looks so real! Oh, wait—not Uncle Joey, Godfather Joey! I'm gonna be Emma's godfather!"
"Uh…"
Rachel and Ross swapped a hesitant look.
"What's up?" Joey caught their vibe and peeked over.
"Sorry, Joey," Ross said. "No offense, but we were thinking Adam should be Emma's godfather."
"Yeah," Rachel chimed in. "Adam's done so much for her…"
"What?!" Joey balked, practically shouting. "This was my idea! And come on, godfather's an Italian gig—I'm perfect for it!" To prove it, he launched into a classic Godfather line: "Do you spend time with your family? Of course I do—good! A man who doesn't care for his family isn't a man!" Then he grinned, "See? I'd be an awesome godfather!"
"Joey…" Rachel and Ross squirmed.
Not every kid needs a godfather, sure. But now that they were parents, they couldn't help thinking about Emma's future. A big-shot godfather from day one? She'd be set for life! Joey's just a so-so TV actor—limited pull, and they weren't keen on Emma diving into the messy entertainment world anyway. Among the crew, Adam was the real heavyweight.
They weren't usually this calculating with friends. But for their daughter? Yeah, they got a little practical.
"What's going on?"
Adam strolled in right then.
"Adam, hands off—you're not stealing this from me!" Joey spilled the tea, clutching Emma like a guard dog.
"Haha," Adam laughed. "Let Joey do it. I'm not big on the godfather thing."
Kidding aside, if he said yes once, how many godkids would he end up with? Chandler and Monica? At least two, maybe more. Matthew and Lily, so in love—two kids minimum in his memory. Then there's Sheldon and Amy's "15" kids, Howard and Bernadette's son and daughter, Leonard and Penny's little one. These were his inner circle. If they asked, he'd have a hard time saying no.
That's already ten-plus right there! If he didn't draw the line early, second-tier pals would start lining up too. Next thing you know, he's at dozens. Being a godfather's an honor, sure, but it's also a load of responsibility. Imagining a swarm of bratty godkids buzzing around him? Yikes, scalp-tingling stuff.
Plus, with his health and lifespan ticking up, aging might slow—or stop. Fifty's old if you live to seventy. But for someone hitting two hundred? Barely past pimply teen years! If he ends up looking as young as his goddaughters, dripping with charm and status, who knows what those free-spirited American girls might pull? Awkward city. Better to dodge it now. Joey wants it? Let him have it!
"Adam!" Rachel pouted. "You've done so much for Emma—you should be her godfather! Without you, she'd be illegitimate. And if it weren't for you, her breech position would've meant a C-section. She'd be weaker from the start—you told me that yourself!"
"Uh…" Adam winced, sensing Rachel's mom-mode kicking in hard. This was tough to dodge. Joey's puppy-dog eyes said it all—being asked to be a godfather's a huge nod. With casual friends, he could brush it off. But Rachel and Ross, this close, pushing again and again? Hard to say no without looking like a jerk.
"Adam, just be Emma's godfather," Monica jumped in, reading the room. "You and Joey can do it! No rule says there's only one!"
"Yeah!" Joey lit up, clapping. "In showbiz, child stars snag tons of bigwigs as godparents—racking up resources left and right. If they can, why can't Emma have two?!"
"Wait, that's an option?" Rachel's eyes sparkled.
She'd thought it was some solemn, one-and-done deal—special and respectful—so she'd picked Adam over Joey. But multiple? Why choose? Kids deserve it all!
"I'm not exactly an expert on this…" Adam gave a wry smile. "But if you're set on it, I'll be Emma's godfather. Fair warning—I might never have kids myself, so I've got no clue how to do this!"
"No worries!" Rachel's eyes gleamed brighter. "Just spoil her a little—that's plenty!"
Emmm. Spoil her like she's his only kid? Boom—princess status! The thought wiped away labor pains and postpartum blues, filling her with dreams of Emma's royal future.
Emmm. Adam's clueless at this? No problem—she'd coach Emma. As her mom, Rachel was a pro at buttering up dads for favors. Her sisters Amy and Jill still used her old tricks! She'd make sure Emma and her godfather bonded perfectly through some expert-level charm.
"Godfather Joey, you've hugged her enough—Godfather Adam's turn!" Monica nudged Joey to pass Emma over. "Come on, Adam, hold your goddaughter!"
"Alright, fine," Adam sighed, giving in. He took Emma, peering down at her.
"Hey, she's smiling—Emma's smiling!"
"No way! She really is! Guess she likes the godfather her mom picked!"
"Let me see! Ugh, rude—I'm a godfather too! I held you forever and got nothing!"
Seeing Emma grin up at him, Adam couldn't help but soften. Logically, he knew it wasn't about him—newborn smiles just mean they're comfy and content. He just happened to be there. But still… it's pretty darn heartwarming, right?