Chapter 24
The Way We Are

by Laura

Laura's Author's Note:
Deb and TeeJay needed a quick transition chapter, so they held a contest on their website to write it. I did, and here we are.

TeeJay's Author's Note:
I'd like to extend a huge thank you to Laura for helping out. This has been fun and we wouldn't have come up with this chapter as quickly without your help. It was certainly great to have a guest writer along for the ride.

Deb's Author's Note:
They've both already said everything pretty much. Except I would also like to thank Laura for breathing new life into the Butterflies universe.

Synopsis:
Adam and Joan struggle to agree on details for their upcoming wedding. With Valentine's Day on the horizon, they decide to go away for the weekend with Karen and Grace.

Rating: R for adult themes and smut

Disclaimer:
I don't own Joan of Arcadia... I don't even own this story!

Adam sat at the computer in the guest room, now asleep, his head on his hand which was supported by his elbow propped next to the monitor. Joan walked in and looked at the screen, it was an semi-completed ad layout for toothpaste. There was a stack of other untouched designs next to him on the desk.

He'd started working partially from home since there was so much to do for the wedding. She slowly walked to him, first touching his shoulders lightly, then wrapping her arms around him from behind. He groaned softly and lifted his head slightly.

"Baby, why don't you take a break?" Joan asked. She kissed his neck gently. "You're falling asleep here and you're not getting anything done anyway. Come downstairs, I want show you something."

"OK," he mumbled. "Just give me a second."

She nodded and kissed his cheek before leaving the room and going downstairs. A moment later Adam wandered down the stairs, still half asleep, but when he saw the coffee table and parts of the couch filled with of dozens of bridal books he woke up.

He looked around, wondering if he had entered the wrong living room. "What's going on?" he finally asked when he spotted Joan and Helen riffling through some books.

"Hey," Joan said as she looked over the couch at him. She quickly snapped the book full of dresses shut on her mother's hand.

"Ouch!" Helen exclaimed.

"Sorry. Here, look at this tux." She held another book open for him as he approached them.

He sat on the couch next to her and took the book. "Jane, this has a bow tie."

"So?"

"So, I'd really rather not wear a bow tie. I mean, I wore one at Aunt Lou's wedding and I could hardly stand still. I felt like it was choking me." He put a hand to his throat as if he could already feel it there.

Joan pointed to an inset picture. "You can get a necktie with it too."

He looked at the smaller picture and sighed. It reminded him of the fat, puffy ties he saw the men wear when he watched Pride and Prejudice with Joan. "I don't know, Jane. Aren't there any other tuxes you like?"

She shrugged. "Flip through the book and see if there's anything you can live with."

He quickly flipped through a few pages. "I don't— I can't do this right now. I mean, I still have so much work."

"I thought things were supposed to change, once you made partner," she said, accusation creeping into her voice.

"Things have changed. I make my own hours and I can work from home if I need to. But that doesn't mean I have less to do. And I gotta get back to it." He put the book on her lap and left the room.

Joan watched him go up the stairs, trying not to be annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm for helping with the preparations.

Helen turned to her and said, "Sweetie, what about this one?" showing Joan a dress from the book she was holding.

Joan looked at it. "Oh, wow. That's an amazing dress, but Dad will kill me if I wear that."

Helen shrugged. "He'll get over it. Besides, this day is about you and Adam. It's about what you want and what will make Adam pass out at the altar." She smiled a little and Joan gently in the arm.

Joan looked at it again. The model wearing the dress in the picture was more made out to fit that dress than she probably would be, but it was still beautiful. The back dropped all the way to the waist. And it'd give her cleavage that would stop traffic. "Yeah, that'll definitely make him pass out." She smiled a little to herself, despite her earlier annoyance at him. She could just see the dreamy, agape look on his face when he set eyes on her for the first time in that dress.

"What about colors?" Helen asked, Joan looked confused so she opened another book with place settings for the reception. "You know, plate patterns, colors for the table cloths, bridesmaid's dresses, favors for your guests."

"I guess, just plain beige or something."

"Beige?" Helen looked mortified.

"Well, OK, that is a little boring. But soft colors, nothing green or pink or too loud. And nothing gender specific." She really felt bad making this decision without Adam, this wasn't a tux or dress or something they could decide on without each other's input.

Helen sensed her reluctance and flipped the page, trying to distract her daughter from the big, scary decisions with a small, easy one. "What about favors? There's matchbooks, mints, candles—"

"Shot glasses," Joan said quickly. Helen gave her a look. "Wait, we can't do that... Grace. I don't wanna give people mints, that'll just make them think we're telling them their breath stinks. The candles are nice, I guess."

"OK, candles—"

"But kids might light them and burn the place down, and then that'll be my fault. What about chocolate bars?"

Helen forced a smile and proceeded despite her daughter's uncanny ability to turn the simplest thing into a math problem. "They're nice. You can get them in dark, white, or milk chocolate."

Joan groaned, sticking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't do this, Mom. I really need Adam to help make these decisions. I mean, this is gonna affect the rest of our lives."

"A wedding favor will affect the rest of your lives?"

"Yes. I mean, people will think back to us and say 'Wow, these are the people who gave me the breath mints because I have bad breath. I don't wanna talk to those people.'"

"Joan, I doubt that." Helen gave her that 'come on' look that Joan had gotten so often from her mother as a kid.

Joan shook her head and closed the book. "Look, this all just has to wait until I can talk to Adam about it."

Helen nodded. "Well, just remember we need to get these things settled as soon as possible. There will be no waiting until the last minute with this wedding."

"I know that, Mom. I'll talk to him about it tonight."

At dinner, Joan looked across the table at Adam. He was picking lazily at his food. "Sweetie, what kind of favors do you think we should give people?"

He looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. "Favors?"

"You know, wedding favors. Stuff for people to take home with them that have our names and everything on them."

"Oh, right. What do think we should get?"

"I was thinking chocolate, but there's white, dark and milk chocolate. I didn't know which to get. I was thinking white. I mean, it is a wedding."

He shrugged. "People can be really particular about chocolate, Jane. Either they love it or they hate it, you know?"

She hadn't thought of that, he was right. "Well, there's a few more ideas in the book."

"Don't people usually give breath mints or something? Let's just do that."

Joan put her fork down, looking at Adam. "I know you're not really into all this preparation stuff, but I really need your help with it. I don't want to make all these decisions by myself. It is our wedding. Not just mine."

"Jane, you're good with this stuff. I'm not. I trust your judgment. I don't really care if we have white table cloths or red table cloths or if the flowers are gonna be roses or carnations or geraniums."

Annoyance crept into her voice. "Who uses geraniums for wedding decoration?"

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

She leaned back in her chair. "Whatever?" she repeated. "Is that what you think about the wedding? Whatever? Let's just marry Joan because it'll make her happy?"

He sighed. "No," he said with conviction in his voice. "No, that's not what I meant. I wanna marry you. You know that. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

She looked down, not completely reconciled by his answer. "Yeah, well, right now you lack a bit of enthusiasm about the wedding."

He put his cutlery on his plate as well, reaching over to take one of her hands in both of his. "Jane," he pleaded. "Jane, look at me."

She lifted her head and their eyes met. He went on, "I do want to get married. To you. I want it more than anything in the world. I just never realized there was so much involved. I mean, it's starting to feel really huge, with the hundreds of guests and all the stuff that has to be decided. To be honest, it's kinda overwhelming. But I know how much it means to you and your mom, so I'll do my best to help. Just be a little patient with me, okay?"

She nodded, drawing her hand in his towards her mouth, kissing his softly. "You never told me that the idea of a big wedding scares you. "

"Yeah, well..." he rolled his head around as if it should be obvious.

"Maybe we should have talked about this sooner. Maybe we should have done it differently from the beginning."

He smiled slightly. "We tried that, remember?"

She couldn't help but smile too now. "Yeah," she said dreamily, but then grew more somber again. "Adam, I want this to be an amazing day for both of us. How can it be when it intimidates you?"

"It will be amazing. And I know I'm gonna look back and remember it as one of the best days of my life. It's not the idea of the wedding that's intimidating me. It just seems like there's so much to organize and think about, and right now I have a lot of work at the studio and... It's just... it's a lot of pressure, you know?"

She tried to put herself in his shoes. Things at work for her were kinda slow these days, something she was very grateful for. Maybe she had been coming on too strong with all the wedding preparations lately. She knew that it wasn't a good idea to push Adam.

"OK," she finally said, trying to come up with a solution. "So what are we gonna do about this? There are decisions that I can't make on my own, decisions I don't want to make on my own. Can we try to find a way to get these questions answered without you feeling pressured?"

He shrugged, feeling undeniably rotten and selfish for his avoidance.

"Honey, I'd love to give you some time for things to ease up," she resumed. "But some of this stuff really can't wait."

He tried like hell to diffuse his irritation. "Like what?"

"Like the tux. Or suit. Would you rather wear a suit?"

"The truth is, I hadn't really given it much thought. What do you think I should wear?" He picked up a leaf of lettuce with his fork and put it in his mouth.

"That's your choice, sweetie. You're the one who has to wear the monkey suit. You should pick it out. But I will say that I kinda always imagined you in a tux." She gave him a flirtatious grin.

Which he couldn't help returning. "OK. But with a bow tie?" he asked.

She gave him a forgiving look. "No. You hate bow ties, I get that. But there's all kinds of variations. You just have to look at the books with me. We'll find something that you're comfortable with."

"OK," he said. "I promise I'll set aside some time tomorrow for us to take another look at tuxes. I'll also think about the wedding favors. I kinda like the idea of having something special, something that's not quite so generic. Maybe I'll ask Christine too. She's got these really funky ideas sometimes, she's about the most creative person I know. Would that be OK with you?"

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, that would be great."

He gave her a winning smile and she knew they would get there somehow. Still, at that moment, she was really glad that she had her mother to help with everything.

On Saturday, Grace and Karen came over for dinner as they often did. Even though everyone else was in good spirits, Grace was weirdly quiet the entire meal.

"Is something wrong?" Joan whispered to Karen, who started to shrug.

"There's nothing wrong, Girardi," Grace said in a sharp tone. "And if you wanna know something about me, you can ask me."

Joan shook her head slightly, looking directly at Grace, addressing her. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. Everything's the same as it always was."

"What's going on? Is the Taltroxarone not working?" Adam asked.

"It's working," Grace mumbled. "Just very slowly. I mean, one day everything's fine and the next..." she trailed off and shook her head.

Joan struggled to find something to say, but she could only think of one thing. "Valentine's Day is coming up. Next Monday, actually."

"So?" Grace said.

"So, we should go somewhere. The four of us. Get away from everything for a weekend."

"Like where?" Adam said, taking a bite of food.

"I don't know, maybe we can try the Virginia Beach thing again. Or we could go to Crystal City and go to the Tea Dance at Freddie's."

Adam laughed. "Freddie's was wild."

"That place is depraved," Grace said flatly.

"And hilarious," Karen added. She glanced at Joan and they both broke up at the memory of Grace stuffing dollar bills into the garter of the hottest drag queen any of them had ever seen during a performance at Freddie's Follies.

Grace gave both of them a look that said she was currently not in the mood to relive that one.

"O...kay," Karen said, getting the hint. "We can always just go to Ocean City. That was fun last time."

"How is a weekend at the beach is gonna help anything? Plus, it's winter," Grace grumbled.

"So what? We don't have to go in the water. I mean, we can just hang out in town, go shopping." Joan looked at Adam, who shrugged.

Then he remembered something. "Oh, wait. What about my class on Sunday?"

"You can miss it one weekend," Joan said. "Call Mr. O'Connell. I'm sure he'd understand."

"Yeah, he would. But what about the kids? They look forward to it all week."

"Adam, everybody's entitled to a little vacation now and then."

He was so tired lately. He really felt like he needed a nice break from everything. Finally, he nodded. "I guess... Grace, you game?"

Grace looked down at her plate and didn't respond.

"Come on, Grace," Karen pleaded, putting an arm around her girlfriend. "I think Joan's right. We all need to get away for a few days."

"If I'm going, you're going," Adam said, trying to coax Grace into saying yes. "Come on, I'll book the rooms right now."

She didn't say anything for a long moment. "We aren't sharing rooms or anything like that."

"Obviously," Adam said, making a face.

"And no conjoining rooms either. I don't wanna hear you and Girardi goin' at it all night. Down the hall from each other. At least!" she called as Adam went upstairs to make hotel reservations.

Joan smirked sarcastically.

"So you'll really go," Karen asked.

"I'll go," Grace said as though it cost her blood. "But I won't like it."

"No one expects you to," Joan said with a smirk.

Adam, Joan, Karen and Grace crossed the street in Ocean City. Karen stopped in front of a jewelry store a few yards away, looking at rings in the window. Joan, Grace and Adam also stopped walking. Joan was rubbing her hands together, wishing she had taken gloves and brought her warmer jacket. It was way colder than the weather report had predicted.

"Let's grab a cup of coffee," she said. "I'm freezing."

Adam looked around, pointing at a round, green and white sign a few stores down the street. "There's a Starbucks."

Grace gave him a disapproving look. "You drive, like, a hundred miles to Ocean City only to hang out at Starbucks? That's pathetic, dude. You can have that anywhere."

Adam lifted his eyebrows. "Well, they do make great coffee," he said defensively.

Joan tried to smooth out the atmosphere, wondering why Grace was so easily irritable these days. Was there more going on? "I saw this cute, local café earlier, that's just round the corner. Maybe we can try that one."

Adam nodded. "Sure, sounds good."

Grace also gave a laconic nod. "Fine with me."

"Then let's go." Joan started walking again.

The others followed her. Once inside the shop, Joan and Karen went to go find a table while Adam pulled Grace off into a corner. "So... am I allowed to ask?" he said softly.

"It depends. What do you want to know?" She folded her arms in front of her.

"What's with the attitude?"

"Attitude?" she repeated. "Dude, I've had an attitude since birth. If you've never noticed—"

"You know what I mean," he said, cutting her off. "Why are you acting like this? What's going on?"

She sighed a little. "There's a lot of stuff going on."

"Like, what?" He hesitantly took a step toward her. "Are you and Karen OK?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're fine. It's the same crap as always."

He thought he knew what she was talking about. "Your mother."

Grace just nodded silently.

"I thought you said she was doing better."

"I told you, she is, then she isn't. It's a roller coaster."

"Yeah," he nodded, he definitely understood that. "The uncertainty, not knowing what the next day is gonna bring. It gets to you, doesn't it?"

Grace looked at him, suddenly feeling a little ashamed for snapping at him. Adam clearly knew what it was like to have a parent who was unstable and unpredictable. He was all too aware of the frustrations that came with it. And she also knew that if she could talk to anyone about it, it would be him.

She gave him an apologetic and sad look and said quietly, "Sorry, Rove. I don't mean to be such a party pooper. I just—"

He put a hand on her upper arm and squeezed it a little, even though he really wanted to give her a hug. "I know," he said in an understanding voice. "Just hang in there. It'll get better if she sticks with the therapy. You gotta know that you can come and talk to me if you need to, OK?"

She nodded again and Adam hoped it would finally sink in with Grace that she didn't have to carry all her burdens on her own. He looked into the seating area, where Joan and Karen were at a small corner table, chatting away.

Grace followed his gaze. "We should get back before Girardi orders for us. I don't wanna end up with some mochachino crap."

"Mochachino?" he repeated with a smile. "I think you're safe."

They walked over to the table. "What's going on?" Adam asked as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

Karen and Joan fell silent, Joan looked up at him. "She pulled my seat out for me."

He gave Karen a look and motioned for Joan to stand, but she didn't get it. "Um, that's my job..." Finally, she stood and Adam pushed her chair back in then over—ceremoniously pulled it out again, nodding for her to sit down like she was royalty.

"You are hilarious," Joan mumbled as she sat back down and Adam pushed her chair closer to the table.

"So, what were you guys talking about?" he asked when he finally sat down.

"Valentine's Day is tomorrow. We should all go shopping, you know, for gifts for each other," Joan said.

Grace was lucky Joan and Karen hadn't ordered drinks yet, because if she had, it would have come out her nose. "You gotta be kidding me. Valentine's Day? It's just a scam created by greeting card companies to make a profit."

"Told you," Karen said to Joan.

"Come on, Grace," Joan coaxed. "You can't honestly think that."

"She's right," Adam said with a shrug.

Joan whipped her head around to look at her fiancé. "Are you serious?"

He shrugged again. "It's true. I'm in advertising. It's just a marketing ploy."

"Remember when you used to be romantic?"

"I still am!" he proclaimed. "I just think Valentine's Day is stupid."

"You didn't when we were younger. What, now you don't have to work anymore because you got me for good?"

"I didn't say—" he began but groaned and put his face into his hands. "I thought we all agreed, no gifts."

"No elaborate gifts. We could just get little fun things. There's a shop down the block."

"I guess we're going shopping," Grace mumbled.

"Nothing pink. I don't do pink," Grace called across the store to Karen and Joan, as she looked at different items with Adam.

"Come on," Joan said. "Pink is the Valentine's Day color."

"So what? No one said I had to like it. I've expressed my disdain for this so-called Holiday."

Joan picked something up and she and Karen fell into giggles.

"What are you guys doing over there?" Adam asked, turning to look at them.

Joan quickly hid what she was holding from Adam's view. "It's a surprise." She pointed something out to Karen, they giggled again.

Karen picked up what Joan had pointed to and they hurried to the cash register, successfully hiding their purchases from Adam and Grace.

Adam and Grace quickly picked out their gifts so they could leave the shop before it closed and see what the girls had gotten them. Joan looked at him and smiled, she knew that almost desperate look in his eye.

The hotel they where they were staying was within walking distance of the store, so they took advantage of the cool but dry weather and hoofed it. Adam slung an arm around Joan's waist, trying to open the bag she was holding on her other side to get a peek at what she'd bought.

She laughed and slapped his arm away. "Stop it. You'll see what it is when we get to the hotel."

"Trust me, you'll like it," Karen told him with a mischievous smile.

Adam smiled as well, then laughed. "So let's get to the hotel." He started running and pulled on Joan's hand as Grace and Karen walked after them.

When they reached their hotel room, Adam couldn't stop smiling. "What'd you get?" he asked breathlessly.

She smiled and pulled the box out of her bag, showing him what it was.

"Edible panties," he read out loud. "Interesting."

She nodded and put the box on the table. "So, what'd you get me?"

He smiled, a little bit embarrassed. "A teddy bear," he produced the small white and red bear from his bag.

"Aw, he's adorable." She beamed at Adam and studied the teddy bear.

Then her face took on a thoughtful expression that almost made Adam laugh. "You're not contemplating any deeper meaning in that teddy bear, are you? If I'd had more time, I would have picked something a little more creative and meaningful."

"I was just trying to come up with a name for him."

Adam laughed. "A name? You're not serious."

She nodded. "Oh yes. A stuffed animal needs a name, or it can't properly be loved," she said very seriously.

He looked at her, trying to decide whether she was kidding. Sure didn't seem like it—and before Adam could make up his mind, she burst out, "Orlando."

"Orlando?"

"Yes, Orlando."

"Bloom?"

She smiled a mischievous smile. "Got me."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" he teased her.

"I couldn't name him Adam, could I?"

"No, I'd feel like a subdefective all over again if you reduced me to white fur and brown glass eyes."

She laughed and set the teddy bear on the table, its back facing the room. "If we're gonna get our use out of these panties, he shouldn't be watching." She took the box with the edible panties and went to the bathroom to put them on.

Adam undressed quickly and got into bed, waiting for Joan. After a moment she returned, wearing only the red string bikini panties. She crawled into bed beside him.

"What, uh, what flavor are they?" he forced out as soon as he could find his voice.

"Passion fruit."

A smile spread across his face as he watched her lay down against the pillows. He kissed her gently, before reaching down to her center. He was so used to just pulling her panties off instantly, he had to fight himself to not do so this time.

He kissed her throat and drew his tongue down along her collar bone until he could take her right nipple in his mouth. She arched into him and he was compelled to continue his southward journey. He kissed and licked his way to her belly button. His tongue darted in and out of it until she laughed, "Adam! Enough teasing!" He glanced up into her dark eyes and held them for just a few second before he made his way to the panties and began to lick and nibble at them, working his way through them until first his tongue and then his lips met her core.

She gasped and grabbed a handful of his thick hair, trying not to tug at it as he worked his magic. He did what he always did when it came to this, he licked her until she was wet. Then he slipped two fingers inside her and wrapped his lips and tongue around her clit—stroking, nibbling, licking, suckling her all the way to heaven in short order. He devoured her, absorbed her orgasm willfully.

He gave her a moment to catch her breath, just watching her from his position as her adoring supplicant. When she opened her eyes and smiled at him, he moved back up until they were face to face. He kissed her gently, moaning a bit when he felt her hand slide down between them to pull him inside her.

He let her set the pace and he followed every lead, until he pushed her over the edge and followed right along with her.

Afterward, they lay together on the bed, legs entwined, him halfway on top.

And he still just could not stop smiling. "I have a weird question." She looked at him. "What did Karen buy for Grace?"

She leaned against his shoulder. "Were you thinking about that the whole time?"

"Oh, God, no," he said quickly. "I was just wondering."

"First tell me what Grace got for Karen."

"Altoids," he said simply.

"Are you kidding me? Karen will think Grace is trying to tell her she's got bad breath."

"I doubt that that's what Grace had in mind for them." He laughed a little and let it hang in the air.

Finally, she got a eureka look on her face. "Oh yeah... Forgot about that."

"What did Karen buy for Grace?" he asked again.

She laughed and put her face into his chest. "Nipple clamps," she said through a giggle.

He made a face. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't get conjoining rooms after all."

She chuckled lightly and said, "You realize your gift was the only apparently non-kinky one anybody bought, right?"

"Well..." He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his head to seek out at the bear on the other side of the room.

She hit him in the chest. "No! We are not using Orlando as kink!"

He let out a chuckle. "It was just a suggestion."

"Well, it was a bad one."

There was a stiff breeze whipping through Adam and Joan's hair as they walked along the deserted beach. The February air was cold and the wind off the water made it feel even colder. Even though they had both donned their woolen sweaters and parkas, Joan snuggled up to Adam's side and put her arm around his back. He mirrored the gesture, drawing her to him.

In the distance over the sea, murky clouds banded together to form a dark gray wall that looked like it might bring rain before long.

Joan studied the cloud formations as they walked in silence and then turned her attention to Adam. "This is nice. Kinda romantic."

"You think so? It's bloody cold."

She smiled. "Just the two of us, alone, on the beach. Not a soul in sight. How is that not romantic?"

Matter-of-factly, he said, "It's February."

She tried to put a pouty quality in her voice. "You're no fun." After a moment's silence, she addressed him again. "You're not still mad at me for bugging you about the wedding plans, are you?"

He turned his head to look at her. "What? No." He paused a moment. "No, that was..." He trailed off again.

She pressed her hand into his side, just hard enough for him to feel it through his jacket. "Adam, you seem awfully distracted."

"I... I was just thinking about Grace."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, at the café. I think it's just really getting to her—everything that's going on with Sarah."

"Did something happen?" Joan asked.

"No. At least not that I know of. I think she's just frustrated that the clinical study hasn't turned out to be the miracle cure she hoped it would be. Well, I mean, I don't even know if she was hoping for that. But I know that she expected things to get easier once Sarah got into the program. And that's just not the case... I think she's just trying to work all of that out."

Joan looked at the sand at her feet that was damp and hard. "Well, I did hope things would get better."

"Yeah," Adam sighed. "Maybe she isn't even getting the drug. She might be on placebo, you know."

"They knew that was a possibility."

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled. "It would suck if that was the case though."

"I know. So what did you say to her?"

"That she should hang in there and hope for the best. And to come talk to me if she needs to."

Joan gave him another affectionate squeeze. "You did your best."

"Did I?" he challenged her.

"Baby, what else can you really do?"

"I don't know," he reiterated. "We were supposed to help her, but how have we done that? She's still miserable."

"But her mom is getting help. Maybe it's not working perfectly, but they're trying, they're working toward something and not sitting there hopelessly, right?"

He nodded and she slipped her arm through his as they continued walking.

"Adam, you've been a really great friend to her. You do know that, don't you?"

He shrugged. "Hope so."

"Grace doesn't... emote much. But she loves you and she's glad you're there for her. I think as friends go, you're right up there with the very best of them."

He wanted to believe that. He smiled at her and leaned over to give her a sweet peck on the lips.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" she asked, smiling back at him.

He thought for a moment, considered her offer. "Nah, I think she'd just clam up if you approached her. Maybe she should just figure it out for herself. I mean, if she ever gives you an opening, sure, go for it. Otherwise, give her space."

Joan nodded. "OK."

She felt Adam relax a little as they kept walking. Maybe it was time to bring up what was on her mind. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

He looked at her. "Shoot."

"Well, I..." she started uncertainly. "I don't want you to feel pressured or nagged or anything."

"Is this about the wedding?"

She nodded hesitantly. "Yeah."

"Jane," he said softly, stopping, turning to her and taking her face in his hands. "It's okay. We can talk about our wedding. I'm sorry I was a jerk about it."

"You weren't a jerk." She smiled at him. "I was just being too pushy."

His hands slid down until he was holding her to him by the waist. "Ah, never mind that now. Let's start over. What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well... you know that there's still a lot to organize, decisions to be made, wardrobe choices, things like that."

He nodded. "Yeah. Like my tux, huh?"

"I know you wanted us all to get away from the real world for a while. We can wait and do this when we get back home if you'd rather."

"No," he said, "No, let's talk about the wardrobe for our wedding." He added mischievously, "Since we're out here all alone and it's so romantic and everything."

She stuck her tongue out at him defiantly.

He laughed at her. "You asked me if I'd rather wear a suit than a tux. I think you're right. We should go with the tux. It's classy. Traditional. I think I'd like that. I think Mom and Dad would love it."

"Well, then that's settled. You want a tie to go with it, right?"

"Yes. No bow tie. Please."

Now it was Joan's turn to laugh. "No bow tie. We wouldn't want you up there looking like a penguin, would we? I saw this really nice, silky, dark purple tie the other day. It had these narrow diagonal white stripes. I think that would go really well with a tux and a plain, white shirt. I can almost see you in it right now."

"Our wedding colors are gonna be purple and white?"

"Nothing is decided yet. Except that you'll wear an incredibly sexy, fairly traditional tux, with a rockin' tie."

"Sounds perfect," he grinned. "But I definitely wanna have some say in the color."

"You'll have a say in more than just the color."

He looked at her, his expression earnest. "Seriously, I don't want you to feel like you can't come to me with these things because I'm gonna be all intimidated or overwhelmed. Whatever you need help with, please know that you can run it by me."

She gave him a placative smile. "OK. Got it. But you gotta know that if I'm being too pushy, you can tell me that too. I don't want this to be something that's gonna stress us out to the point where we're getting fed up with it."

He just nodded in acknowledgment.

"There's one more thing we gotta decide about fairly soon," she brought the conversation back on track. "The wedding favors. You wanted to do something a little more creative than mints or chocolates. Have you given that anymore thought or asked Christine about it?"

His face suddenly lit up, as if he had only just remembered. "Oh, yeah! I meant to tell you about that. We talked the other day, and she had this cute idea that I really liked. You know how people don't like to throw rice anymore because birds eat it and it kills them?"

She nodded.

"Well, instead of birdseed, we could combine the favor with something for people to do to send us off. We can get these little things called bubble baubles, with little imprinted bottles of soap on a lanyard. Wouldn't it be kinda cool if everyone blew bubbles as we left the church? I think that would be really special."

Joan pondered the idea for a moment, before she said, "Yeah, I really like that."

"Great. I'll look into it. How many will we need?"

"I'll have to get back to you with an exact count, once Mom finalizes the guest list. I think they're inviting everyone they ever met in their whole lives."

He chuckled.

"I'm the first one of my generation of Girardis to tie the knot. To them, it's a pretty big deal."

He smiled down at her contentedly. They had turned around a while ago and were now walking back towards the hotel. She snuggled closer to him as some cold air hit her face.

"You know if it wasn't so cold..." he started but trailed off when he heard her teeth chattering.

"What?"

"Never mind." He took her hands and started to draw her away.

"No, what?" She stayed put.

He looked at her. "You were saying how weirdly romantic it is here, and we're all alone..."

"You are not thinking about us having sex out here?" She made a face. It was way too cold for that.

"No." He shook his head slightly. "Well, yes. But you're freezing, so we should get back to the hotel and get you warmed up."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

He smiled a little mischievously. "I have my ways. Unless my genitals crawled back inside for warmth. I swear I feel like a Ken doll right now. Where'd they go?" He glanced down, laughing.

She laughed too and wrapped her arms around him. "Sounds like I need to warm you up."

"You're on. Let's go."

Sand flew as he raced her back up the beach. When they reached their hotel room, they were once again glad they didn't have conjoining rooms with Grace and Karen.