Chapter 15: Christmas Dinner (Part 2)
Everyone got up and headed for the door. Before leaving, Monica grabbed a box from the dining table, tucked it into a bag, and carried it with her.
"What's that?" Bruce asked.
"Cookies I baked—as a gift for your mom!"
"Thanks, Monica. She'll love them."
Rachel asked, "Should the rest of us bring gifts too? It is Christmas."
"No need," Bruce replied. "Just you guys being there will make my mom happy. She's always wanted me to have more friends."
Before they even reached the sidewalk, they saw the stretch limo parked at the curb. Though they instantly recognized it as Bruce's rental, they still asked in unison, "Bruce, is this what you rented?"
Bruce nodded.
Monica exclaimed, "Why? I mean, your family's in Brooklyn. The subway would've been fine. Even if you had to rent something, why a stretch limo for such a short trip?"
"It's hard to explain. When we walked into the rental place, this thing was just sitting there. Joey and I were hooked, and before I knew it, the keys were in my hand."
Joey, now standing beside the car, added, "Hey, since we've got it, let's get our money's worth. That's why I wanted everyone to come down—hop in, we're going for a ride!"
He opened the door with a flourish. "Your driver today is Joey—please board!"
Ross grinned. "Joey, you're playing chauffeur perfectly."
Once everyone was settled on the leather seats, Bruce was about to close the door when Monica suddenly cried, "Wait!" She pointed at the built-in mini-fridge and crystal glasses. "I'm getting champagne—you can't ride in a limo without it!"
Monica jumped out, ran upstairs, and returned with a bag full of bottles.
After she climbed back in and Bruce shut the door, Joey's voice came through the partition: "Alright, rolling out!"
Chandler asked, "Hold on—where exactly are we going?"
Joey's voice floated back, "Honestly, I just want to drive this thing. You guys decide where and let me know."
Everyone looked at Bruce expectantly. "You choose," he said quickly. "All I can think of is driving over the Brooklyn Bridge and leaning out the window—some movie gave me that idea, can't remember which one."
Rachel shrugged. "Works for me. Right now I just want champagne while watching New York go by through these huge windows."
Ross grabbed a bottle from the mini-fridge, popped the cork, and started pouring. When he reached Bruce, Bruce said, "None for me—I'm taking over driving later."
"Come on, Bruce, you have to toast," Ross insisted. "We never celebrated after you sold your script. This makes up for it. Joey, can you handle all the driving today?"
"No problem!" Joey called back.
Bruce accepted the glass. Ross raised his. "To Bruce for selling his script, and Merry Christmas!"
Everyone clinked glasses.
Ross had brought Marcel along. Sensing the festive mood, the monkey scampered around excitedly, chattering.
Seeing Bruce glance at the monkey, Ross asked, "Will your mom mind if I bring Marcel?"
"Not at all," Bruce said. "My mom loves animals—she'll be thrilled."
The group settled in, sipping champagne as Joey navigated through the streets of Manhattan. The city looked magical—holiday decorations everywhere, shoppers bundled in coats, steam rising from sidewalk grates.
"This is amazing," Phoebe said dreamily, watching the city slide past. "It's like we're in a movie."
"A very expensive movie," Chandler added, raising his glass.
Monica leaned forward toward the partition. "Joey, take us past Rockefeller Center! I want to see the tree."
"You got it!" Joey's voice came back.
As they cruised through Midtown, the giant Christmas tree came into view, sparkling with thousands of lights. Even from inside the limo, they could feel the energy of the crowds gathered around it.
"Okay, this was worth the rental," Monica admitted.
Bruce smiled, relaxing into the leather seat. Maybe Joey was right—sometimes you just had to enjoy the moment.
Bruce grabbed the car phone and dialed home. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to the group.
"Alright, I've got answers. You're all set with your astrological signs now."
Phoebe clapped her hands. "Perfect! By the way, what about Marcel?"
Bruce blinked. "What?"
"Ross, when was Marcel born?"
Ross shrugged. "Not sure—maybe last year? 1993?"
Phoebe turned back to Bruce expectantly.
Bruce chuckled. "First time I've been asked to assign a zodiac sign to an actual monkey, but sure, why not?"
Delighted, Phoebe leaned toward Marcel. "Did you hear that? You've got a sign too!"
Marcel continued scampering around the cabin, completely ignoring her.
While they talked, Joey had driven through several blocks and turned onto Fourth Street. Ahead lay Washington Square Park. Joey began circling it, steering toward wherever crowds gathered.
Whenever someone glanced at the car, he'd lower the window, wave, and call out "Merry Christmas!" Most people would smile and wave back, some calling "Nice ride!"
After several exchanges, Chandler leaned toward the partition. "Hey Joey, they think you're the driver. They don't realize this is your rental."
Joey's enthusiasm faded. He rolled the window up and fell quiet.
As they passed the Washington Square Arch, they saw it decorated with garlands and lights, a large Christmas wreath suspended at the top.
The snow that had paused earlier began falling again, yet the sidewalks stayed crowded—Christmas in New York was impossible to resist.
The car rolled on, rejoining Sixth Avenue and heading north. Suddenly Joey stopped at an intersection. "Lunchtime, guys—I'm starving. There's a chicken place right there. Anybody hungry?"
All three women responded enthusiastically, "Yes! Let's get chicken!"
Ross added, "I'm in!"
Chandler quipped, "Sightseeing in a limo while eating fried chicken—who are we, tourists?"
Phoebe shouted forward, "Chandler's not eating—skip his order!"
"Wait—when did I say that?"
Monica reminded him, "Didn't you just mock people who eat chicken while sightseeing?"
"I did, but I never said I wasn't one of them. I want mine!"
"Seven meals it is," Bruce said. "Stay here—Joey and I will grab everything." He opened the door; snowflakes swirled inside before he slammed it shut.
Chandler yelled through the glass, "Don't forget drinks!"
Bruce answered with a backward wave: got it.
Minutes later, they returned with bags of food and drinks. Ross opened the door, they brushed off the snow, and scrambled back inside.
Bruce distributed the food. "Go easy—save room for my mom's dinner tonight!"
Suddenly he remembered. "Ross, what's Marcel eating? I forgot to ask."
"No worries—Marcel had breakfast. He doesn't eat lunch."
"What about tonight?"
"I'll give him some fruit at dinner and his regular meal when we get home."
Outside, the snow thickened, creating a soft white curtain that dimmed the daylight.
Cars carved tracks through the fresh powder, their headlights glowing softly in the swirling white.
Inside, the seven of them ate while watching New York disappear under snow.
For no clear reason, Bruce felt something shift: I'm finally real here. This is my life now.
He'd already sold two screenplays, making his mark on this reality, yet a thin sense of distance had remained—until now, when it melted away.
The snow eased slightly. Joey stood to return to the driver's seat.
With food still remaining, Monica said, "Take some up front—we won't finish all this."
Joey hesitated. "I was going to take it all, but okay—some can stay."
Rachel stared at him. "If you eat everything now, will you even want dinner?"
"That's exactly why I'm pacing myself," Joey replied seriously.
He grabbed his portion and climbed into the driver's seat, leaving Rachel shaking her head.
"My God," she said to no one in particular, "how much can Joey possibly eat?"
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