Chapter 44: Bob
Ross hesitated for a few seconds, then finally said, "Well, the truth is, I don't think I've ever felt ready to be a good dad—oh my God! Am I really capable of handling a responsibility this huge?"
The moment Ross finished, Joey exhaled first. "Dude, I thought you were worried about something serious—you're just stressing over whether you'll be a good father!"
Ross frowned. "Sorry, what do you mean 'just'? If you think I shouldn't worry about that, what could possibly be more important?"
Joey hesitated. "I was just letting my imagination run wild—probably better left unsaid."
Ross insisted, "No, I want to hear it. If you've got a thought, spit it out—I'm listening."
Joey said, "All right, you asked for it. Honestly, I thought you didn't want to know the baby's gender because you were afraid Carol might give birth to a velociraptor or something."
"Oh my God, Joey!" Ross and Monica cried in unison.
Ross went on, "Why would I worry about that? It's biologically impossible!"
Joey shrugged. "I don't know—maybe because you're a paleontologist?"
Ross was about to retort, but Monica cut in, "This is ridiculous—both of you, drop it. Ross, I get why you're anxious, but the baby's still coming and you're still going to be a dad, right?"
Ross said, "Of course I know that, but cut me some slack—it's my first time. I can't just flip a switch and stop worrying."
Bruce thought for a moment, then said, "Ross, if you don't want to know the gender, leave it as a surprise for delivery day."
Ross looked at Bruce, wordlessly urging him to continue.
Bruce went on, "Picture the first time you hold him and hear his cry, the moment you choose his name. Later, when he's big enough, you'll kneel beside him in the park, watching him squeal with joy at finding a bug, or lift him onto your shoulders so he can see the treetops and birds for the first time.
By then you'll have forgotten today's fears, because every single day you'll have done your part. In fact, the very fact that you're asking whether you'll be a good dad already makes you qualified—a bad father wouldn't even think to worry."
Ross didn't answer right away; his mouth hung half-open, gaze unfocused, as though watching the scenes Bruce painted. Finally he said, "Wow... I... I'd never thought of it that way... You're right, Bruce. I just need to take it one day at a time—and I think I can do that. But wait, why'd you keep saying 'him'?"
"Uh..." Bruce froze.
Seeing Ross look her way, Monica quickly said, "Bruce is guessing—you saw me, I never told him whether it's a boy or girl!"
"Right, just a guess!" Bruce echoed, heart pounding; he'd gotten carried away and let slip the gender he'd known from the show.
"So it really is a boy?" Ross's voice shot up an octave.
"Maybe—depends if you want to know," Monica said.
"Tell me, Monica—it's a boy, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's a boy," Monica confirmed.
Ross swayed slightly. "A boy... a boy... my son!"
"That's right, Ross—you're gonna be a dad," Joey grinned.
Monica added, "Even if it were a girl, you'd still be a dad, right?"
Joey chimed in, "Yeah, but if it were a girl, Ross would be the mo—"
Realizing how that sounded, Joey shut up with an embarrassed laugh.
"A boy... my son... he'll be rowdier, right? More falls, more playground fights? He'll need... need to learn a sport?" Ross worried.
Bruce clapped Ross's shoulder. "Listen, the kid won't grow up overnight. You've got plenty of time. Want him to learn sports? Get him a good coach—like Joey, your friendly neighborhood high school swim champion."
Ross blinked. "Wait, I never knew Joey was a swim champion."
Bruce chuckled. "It's right there on his résumé."
Joey said, "Okay, the résumé's fake, but if you want me to teach the kid to swim, I'll be a certified coach long before he's old enough for lessons."
Ross smiled. "Thanks, Joey. You'll make a great uncle."
Joey beamed. "You bet. Now I need coffee—anyone coming downstairs?"
"Me!" the others chimed in, hands shooting up.
They headed down to Central Perk and settled onto the orange couch. Rachel came over from behind the counter. Joey announced, "Rach, Ross's baby is a boy!"
Rachel grinned. "Wow, Ross—gonna raise him on dinosaurs?"
"He can like whatever he wants. I'll take a cappuccino," Ross said.
Everyone ordered their drinks. Just then the café door opened with its signature jingle; a stranger walked in. They glanced over, then turned back to their conversation.
The newcomer scanned the room, then locked eyes on Bruce and called out excitedly, "Hey, Bruce!"
Bruce turned, taking in the guy's too-tight leather jacket over an ill-fitting sweater with a loud shirt collar poking out—and suddenly recognized him. "Bob?" he said, stunned.
Bob flashed a deliberately chummy yet unmistakably smug grin and strode over.
"Bruce, old buddy—look who's here!" Bob's booming voice instantly grabbed everyone's attention.
But Bruce showed zero enthusiasm at reuniting with this "old buddy." Bob had been a fellow writer back when Bruce worked on low-budget adult films, and the memories were anything but fond. Later Bob had headed to Hollywood to become a "big-shot" screenwriter, and Bruce had nearly forgotten him—until Bob showed up in New York and somehow tracked him down.
"Bob, how'd you know I'd be here?" Bruce asked, eyebrows raised, keeping his tone neutral.
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