Chapter 10 – Monica's Grandmother's Funeral
When Rachel returned, everyone learned her father had only suffered a mild heart attack. He needed one more night of observation before discharge, and her mom was staying with him at the hospital.
Bruce pulled twenty-eight dollars from his pocket. "Your tips from today."
Rachel waved her hands. "No, no. You earned those. I'm already grateful you covered for me."
"Please take it. Aren't you saving for your trip?"
"Actually, the doctor said Dad can't do any strenuous activity or long trips, so our Thanksgiving vacation got cancelled."
"Then consider this an advance tip for the next time I come to Central Perk."
He pressed the money into her hand.
"Thanks, Bruce! By the way, how did the contract signing go?"
"All good. Estelle handled it."
"What kind of contract?"
"A script sale. A studio bought one of my screenplays."
Rachel's eyes widened. "Wow, congratulations! How much?"
Bruce leaned close and whispered. Rachel gasped. "Are you serious? That much? Well, your coffee tips better increase substantially."
Monica couldn't contain herself. "Bruce, why won't you say it out loud?"
Bruce grinned sheepishly. "It's the first time I've sold a script for real money. It feels surreal, like if I say it out loud I'll wake up."
"Fine, then whisper it to me."
Bruce leaned over and told her.
Monica yelped. "What? I don't make that much in a year!"
Joey and Phoebe couldn't sit still. "How much is it?"
As Bruce prepared to whisper again, Monica blurted out, "Oh, come on, quit being dramatic—you sold one script for sixty thousand dollars!"
Joey cried out, "Why doesn't Estelle get me sixty-thousand-dollar roles?"
Phoebe swayed over, tapped Bruce's chest, and smiled. "Well, hello there, mister big shot."
Bruce quickly changed the subject. "Rachel, since your trip's cancelled, where are you spending Thanksgiving—with your family or here?"
Rachel didn't hesitate. "I'm staying here for Thanksgiving."
Two mornings later, Bruce put on a black suit with sunglasses in his pocket, ready for the funeral.
After stepping onto the balcony, he pulled on an overcoat against New York's increasingly cold weather.
Both the suit and coat were new. Yesterday he'd picked up the check and contract from Estelle's office, cashed it, and deposited the money.
Bruce didn't mind the expense—he needed formal wear, and the suit cost as much as his entire wardrobe once had.
After taxes and Estelle's commission on the sixty-thousand-dollar sale, he'd netted thirty-eight thousand. Still a fortune.
The advantage of knowing the future—cashed in for the first time.
Downstairs in Monica's apartment, Bruce handed her a key. "Keep my spare. Last time I locked myself out and had to climb the fire escape. Let's avoid that."
Monica pocketed it and handed him one in return. "Since you're trusting me with yours, here's ours."
Bruce smiled. "Thanks. Looks like we're officially high-trust neighbors now."
Ross walked in and headed for the fridge. "What are you two doing? Ready to go?" He took a drink. "Bruce, you're early."
"I do live upstairs."
Phoebe entered. "Sorry I'm late. Spent the morning hunting for my earrings."
"No rush," Bruce said. "We have plenty of time."
Rachel emerged, and Monica asked, "Are those the shoes you're wearing?"
"Yeah, Paolo sent them from Italy."
Bruce murmured to Ross, "Sometimes I forget she even has a boyfriend."
Ross muttered, staring at Rachel, "Why does she have to wear Italian shoes? It's not like New York doesn't have shoes."
Bruce whispered, "Ross, you're doing a fantastic job of letting everyone know you have feelings for Rachel."
Ross turned, eyes wide. "Is it that obvious? Even you noticed?"
"Exactly. That's why I said you're doing a great job."
Chandler and Joey pushed through the door.
Bruce looked around. "Look at us—all cleaned up and pretending to be respectable human beings."
Chandler pointed at him. "Hey, you just stole my line! That was going to be my opener!"
Joey said, "Looks like we're all here. Should we head out?"
At a cemetery in New York, late-autumn light and a gentle breeze softened the funeral's somber atmosphere. Monica's grandmother had been laid to rest. Some mourners were leaving; others stood talking in small groups.
Monica's parents, Jack and Judy, approached. Jack pointed at Bruce. "Hi, I don't think we've met."
Monica said, "Dad, this is Bruce White. We went to Lincoln High together—you might have seen him at parent-teacher conferences."
She turned to Bruce. "These are my parents."
Bruce extended his hand. "Nice to meet you both."
Judy asked, "I'm guessing you two didn't keep in touch after graduation, or I'd have heard about you. How did you reconnect?"
Bruce smiled. "Complete coincidence. I moved into a new apartment, and two days later I ran into Monica and Rachel at the café downstairs. That's when I found out Monica and I are neighbors."
Monica added, "Yeah, so Bruce met everyone all at once."
Jack's face lit up. "You know, at Lincoln's parent events I met another parent also named Jack White. Same first name, so I never forgot him. Any chance he's your father?"
Bruce nodded. "Yes, that's my dad."
Jack exclaimed, "No kidding! How's he doing? I remember he ran a restaurant in Brooklyn."
Bruce replied, "He's great—still working every day at his place."
Jack laughed. "I should visit sometime and catch up with him."
Bruce said, "He'd love that. The restaurant's on Eighth Avenue and 64th Street in Brooklyn."
He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, scribbled something, tore out the page and handed it to Jack. "Here's the restaurant number. Call ahead in case it's busy."
Jack took the slip. "Will do, Bruce. We'll leave you kids alone. Don't forget about the reception dinner tonight."
After Jack and Judy left, Chandler asked, "Why do you carry a notebook?"
"As a screenwriter, I need to write down ideas the moment they hit me."
"Get anything good today?"
Bruce shook his head. "Not yet."
Chandler grinned. "Maybe write this down: Ross the paleontologist should carry a caveman skull with him at all times."
Ross laughed. "Funny you mention that—I actually do have one with me."
He reached into his coat and pulled something out. Everyone gasped. "Ross, why are you carrying that?"
Ross shrugged. "Relax, it's just a model, not real. I left it at Carol's, picked it up last night, and forgot to take it out of my pocket."
Bruce said, "Notebook update: Chandler's joke wasn't funny."
Chandler made a face. Joey laughed. "Hey, that expression you're making right now is hilarious."