Chandler Bing arrived at 11:32 AM holding his jaw and a Central Perk coffee cup.
"I'm two minutes late," he said. "But in my defense, the barista spelled my name 'Chandelier' on the cup and I had to stare at it for a while."
Linda looked up from the desk. Smiled. "You must be the emergency."
"That's me. The dental emergency with a comedy problem." He winced. "Or maybe it's the other way around."
"Come on back," I said.
He followed me to the treatment room. Sat in the chair with the careful movements of someone in pain trying to hide it.
"So," he said. "Joey said you're a good guy. That's pretty high praise. Joey once said that about a sandwich, and he meant it."
"I just fixed his tooth."
"Which is more than the last dentist did. That guy wanted to sell him a full mouth reconstruction for $15,000. Joey's an actor. He doesn't have $15,000."
I examined Chandler's mouth. Upper right molar. Old filling had fractured. Partially exposed nerve.
No wonder he was in pain.
"How long has this been bothering you?" I asked.
"Three days. But I've been ignoring it because I'm an emotionally repressed WASP who thinks dental pain builds character."
I almost laughed. "It doesn't."
"That's disappointing."
I prepared the workspace. "I can fix this today. Replace the filling. Shouldn't take more than forty-five minutes."
"What's the damage? Financially, I mean. The tooth is already damaged."
"$350. Or I can do what I offered Joey—payment plan. $100 down, $50 a month."
He blinked. "You'd do that?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because you don't know me. I could be a deadbeat. I could never pay you."
"Will you?"
"Yeah, of course not. But how do you know that?"
"Joey vouched for you. That's enough."
Chandler stared at me. "Are you real? Like, are you an actual person or some kind of dental saint?"
"I'm a guy who needs patients and prefers they can actually afford treatment."
"Well, you just earned my loyalty for life. Fair warning: I'm incredibly annoying."
"I'll manage."
I started the procedure. Numbed the area. Removed the broken filling. Prepped the cavity.
Chandler, with his mouth propped open, made muffled sounds.
"Don't talk," I said.
He made more muffled sounds.
"I mean it."
He stopped. But his eyes were laughing.
Forty minutes later, the filling was complete. Clean work. The nerve was protected. He'd be sore for a day, but the pain would be gone.
"How does it feel?" I asked.
Chandler tested his bite carefully. "Like a miracle. Seriously. The pain is gone."
"Give it an hour for the numbness to wear off. Avoid hot liquids until then."
"So coffee is a bad idea?"
"Very bad idea."
"Figures." He stood. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Joey said you helped him even though he's broke. I'm not broke, but you're still giving me a payment plan. Why?"
"Because people need help sometimes. And I can provide it."
"That's not normal."
"Maybe it should be."
He studied me. "You're the guy whose wedding to Rachel was canceled."
Not a question. A statement.
"I am."
"And you're just... fine with it?"
"It was the right decision. For both of us."
"See, that's weird. Most people would be bitter. Or angry. Or at least drinking heavily."
"I don't have time for bitter."
"What do you have time for?"
"Fixing teeth. Saving my practice. Moving forward."
Chandler nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm officially impressed. And also slightly intimidated."
"Why intimidated?"
"Because you're emotionally healthy. That's terrifying to those of us who aren't."
This time I did laugh.
At checkout, Chandler wrote a check for $100.
"I'll be back next month with the next payment," he said. "And probably more stories about why I hate my job."
"What do you do?"
"Statistical analysis and data reconfiguration. Which is a fancy way of saying I stare at spreadsheets and contemplate my life choices."
"Sounds fulfilling."
"It's soul-crushing. But the benefits are good." He paused at the door. "Hey, we're all getting together Friday night. Monica's place. Just hanging out. You should come."
I hesitated. "I don't want to intrude—"
"You wouldn't be. Joey already told everyone about you. Monica's curious about the guy who's supposedly weirdly well-adjusted. And Rachel said it would be fine."
"Rachel knows you're inviting me?"
"Yeah. I asked first. Didn't want to make things weird. She said you were welcome anytime. Direct quote: 'Barry's a good person and I want him to have friends.'"
That sounded like Rachel. Trying to fix things. Make everything okay.
"I'll think about it," I said.
"That's not a no." He grinned. "7:00 PM. Monica's apartment. I'll call you with the address later. See you Friday, Dr. Farber."
"Barry."
"See you Friday, Barry."
He left.
Linda appeared. "He's funny."
"He's in pain management mode. Give him a week to process, then decide if he's funny."
"Still. He likes you."
"He likes anyone who offers payment plans."
"No. He likes YOU." She tapped her pen against the appointment book. "They all do. Joey. Chandler. Rachel seems relieved you're handling everything well. You're collecting friends."
"I'm collecting patients."
"Same thing in this case."
I wasn't sure about that.
But I also wasn't opposed to it.
The afternoon was steady. Four appointments. Mix of cleanings and adjustments.
By 4:00 PM, the day's revenue was $1,680.
Better than projected.
I was reviewing tomorrow's schedule when the door chimed.
A woman walked in. No appointment. Professional clothes. Confident posture.
"Are you Dr. Farber?" she asked.
"I am."
"I'm Monica Geller. Rachel's friend."
Monica.
The one who'd taken Rachel in. Chef. Chandler's friend.
"Hi, Monica. What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to meet you." She approached the desk. Direct. No preamble. "Rachel's living with me now. She talks about you. And I've been hearing about you from Joey and Chandler. I wanted to see for myself if you're real or if everyone's making you up."
Linda watched this exchange with barely concealed amusement.
"I'm real," I said.
"Are you okay? Really okay? Because Rachel's worried you're secretly falling apart and just hiding it."
"I'm not falling apart."
"Why not?"
"Because falling apart won't fix my problems."
She studied me. Evaluating. "You're the one who actually called off the wedding."
"Rachel and I called it off together."
"But you started the conversation."
"Someone had to."
"Most people would have let it play out. Let her be the bad guy."
"That wouldn't have been fair to either of us."
"No." She smiled slightly. "It wouldn't have. Okay. I like you."
"Just like that?"
"I'm a good judge of character. And you're either genuinely well-adjusted or a sociopath. I'm betting on the former." She glanced around the clinic. "This is nice. Clean. Organized."
"Thank you."
"Chandler said you offered him a payment plan."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because he needed help."
"You barely know him."
"He's Joey's friend. Joey seems like a good judge of character."
Monica laughed. "Joey thinks everyone is nice. He once befriended a pigeon."
"Did the pigeon betray him?"
"No, actually. The pigeon was very loyal."
"Then Joey's instincts were right."
She looked at me for a long moment. "You're coming Friday, right? Chandler said he invited you."
"I wasn't sure if that was a real invitation or a polite gesture."
"It's real. I wouldn't let him invite you if I didn't approve." She paused. "Rachel's okay with it too. She specifically said you should come. She wants you to have friends."
"That sounds like her."
"She feels guilty. About the wedding. About disrupting your life."
"She shouldn't. She didn't disrupt anything. She just forced us both to be honest."
Monica's expression softened. "You really mean that."
"I do."
"Okay. You're definitely coming Friday. Fair warning: it'll be the whole group. Me, Chandler, Joey, Phoebe—she's the guitar player from Central Perk—my brother Ross, and Rachel."
"Your brother?"
"Ross. He's a paleontologist. Kind of awkward. Recently divorced. He'll probably be weird around you because you're Rachel's ex and he... well, he had a crush on her in high school. Like, a decade-long crush. But he's harmless."
"Why would he be weird around me?"
"Because he's Ross. He's weird around everyone." She checked her watch. "I should get back. Rachel's first solo shift at the coffee shop. I told her I'd be back in twenty minutes to make sure she hasn't burned the place down."
"She's doing well?"
"She's trying. Spilled coffee on two people yesterday. But she's learning." Monica headed for the door. Stopped. "One more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For not making this harder on Rachel than it already is. She's trying to figure out who she is. You giving her space to do that is decent."
"She's doing the same for me."
"Are you figuring out who you are?"
"Working on it."
"Good. Keep working. See you Friday. 7:00 PM. Don't be late." She left.
Linda waited exactly three seconds. "She likes you too."
"She likes that I'm not creating drama."
Linda closed the appointment book. "You're building a collection, Dr. Farber. Whether you realize it or not."
"A collection of what?"
"People who see you clearly. That's rare."
I wasn't sure what to do with that observation.
So I did what I always did when uncertain.
Focused on work.
END CHAPTER 4 (1)
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