A/N - Surprise - I updated earlier! But don't get used to it, busy week coming up.
Innogen - Well, I must say, that's the closest review I've had to a flame...I'm sorry you don't like my style, but my story *is* prewritten, and that's why my chapters, or "snippets", are so short. I don't have a ton of time to write during the week, so I try to sort of "ration" out what I *do* write. Otherwise, you'd get a long chapter every month! Also, I write like a TV show...action, then a commercial that makes you want to come back and watch again, as opposed to a three-hour epic movie, where your attention drifts and you get bored. Some people like it, and some people don't. But it's the way I write. I hope it's not enough to turn you off of my story. BTW, apology accepted, no worries. =) I tried to end this not on a cliffhanger, just for you.
AL - Thanks for all your great reviews and suggestions, all very helpful! Thanks for being peacemaker too, and for being a fan of my cliffies.
HandsOff/Hannah - Wow, thanks for the nice review! I love your story too, and btw, I say "flipping" all the time! Weird! LOL. =)
Thanks to everyone else who reviewed this chapter! Your input really does help my writing. =) I tried my hardest to make Will and Helen's reactions believable, sorry if they're OOC.
"You're home early!" Kevin chimed with feigned excitement.
"I think we got here just in time," Helen said in disbelief.
Will was immobile and mute, his lips slightly parted as he stared at Joan in awe.
"So, um, how much did ya hear?" Luke said, feigning casualty as much with as much vigor as his brother.
"Enough."
Helen dropped her bags on the floor, and started over to the chair where Joan sat, her face a canvas of brutal dread. But before Helen could reach her, Joan burst into tears and fled up the staircase.
Even as Joan lie on her bed, keening as though her life were over (which, from the look on her father's face, it very well might've been), she could hear her parents screaming at one another, as if each were trying to out-scream the other.
"Dammit Helen, we taught her better than this! She knew damn well that she was supposed to be responsible if she was going to do anything with that boy, and instead, she ends up knocked up!"
"Will, please, just calm down-"
"I will NOT calm down! I won't have this Helen, I won't have this...this...stain on my family!"
Silence.
"Well, then you won't have to!"
Joan heard quick, thundering footsteps up the stairs, and then her door burst open.
"Joan, sweetie, come on."
Helen spoke softly and moved deftly as she took a light jacket from her daughter's closet door, and then seated herself on the bed next to her.
"Come on, honey," she soothed, pulling Joan, still crying, into an upright position, and draping the jacket over her shoulders.
Helen took her daughter's arm and led her downstairs, and out the door, without saying a word. Kevin and Luke were left, stunned in the living room, while their father went off into the kitchen, stood in a corner, and started to cry.
"Joan, honey, please stop crying and just talk to me," Helen pleaded, as tears of her own slipped down her cheeks.
Joan stared out the car window into nothing. What did her mom expect her to say?
"Mom, I'm so sorry. I really am, and I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!" Joan cried.
Helen briefly closed her eyes.
"Then why did it?" she asked plainly.
Joan sighed heavily. She was still wondering herself. I'll get back to you on that, Mom, she thought.
"Do you really think this is a good time for jokes?" Helen demanded, and Joan realized she'd spoken out loud.
"Aren't you supposed to be hella pissed?" Joan asked, barely audible.
"Oh, believe me, Joan Agnes Girardi, I am hella pissed, more than I can express right now. But being angry with you isn't going to change the fact that you're..." Helen's voice trailed off, and she bit her lip to contain a sob.
"Dad hates me."
"Your father does not hate you, Joan," Helen chided. "Don't turn this around and make it about him. Because if you think I'm going to feel sorry for you, then you're 'hella' wrong."
"Oh, why would you feel sorry for me? I'm only scared to death about what's happening to me and what's going to happen to the rest of my life!" Joan exclaimed.
With that, Joan folded her arms protectively over her abdomen, over the tiny child that had caused all of this, and stared, focused, out the window as she cried her thousandth tear. Helen was silent beside her, knowing that her daughter had a point, but too furious and heartbroken to admit it.
Helen pulled into the parking lot of the town's Super 8, and got out of the car. Joan, perturbed, hastily followed.
After Helen had checked in at the front desk, she and Joan went to their room, and sat on the beds.
"Okay, Joan," Helen began. "Like I said before, I'm very much upset with you. But the first thing we need to do is take you to the doctor and make sure."
"Ew," Joan remarked.
"Hon, if you think that's gross, you'd better brace yourself," Helen said, stifling a laugh.
"Mom, I really am sorry," Joan said, tracing one of the flowers on the bedspread.
Helen sighed.
"I don't think you realize how much harder this is going to make your life. You're going to have a hell of a time now, Joan. I'm not saying I won't help you, because I understand that you're human and make mistakes. But this is about one of the worst mistakes you could've made."
"At least I'm not dead," Joan whispered.
"What?"
"I said, there are worse things in life than life, Mom. How do you think Adam and his dad felt about his mom? How do you think Mrs. Tardio feels? She lost her child. You've still got me," Joan said.
"You're not a child anymore now, Joan. You're an adult. And you're going to have to start acting like one. And don't try that guilt trip on me, because you know I love you and I always will."
"At least you do," Joan said softly.
"Your father...handles things differently. And I'm sure he'll come through that door any minute," Helen assured.
But forty-four minutes and one long conversation later, there was still no sign of Will.
"He hasn't even called yet, Mom," Joan said solemnly.
Helen blanched, and smiled wistfully.
"Sweetheart, he probably doesn't even know where we are yet."
Joan rolled her eyes.
"Mother, we're at a hotel fifteen minutes away. And besides, Dad's a cop, he could've found us in two seconds if he felt like it."
Helen leaned over and hugged her daughter. She couldn't believe that this little girl she held in her arms was going to have a baby of her own.
"God, Joan," Helen breathed, her eyes growing teary. "I just can't believe that my baby is a sexual being."
"Aw, Mom! Ew!" Joan squealed, pulling away from her.
Helen marveled at how teenage-ish Joan was, which made the fact that she was with child all the less believable.
Helen got up and started pacing, as Joan leaned back on the bed and rested her hands on her stomach.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Helen turned away from the window just as Joan sat up on the bed. They looked at one another, and then Helen answered the door. Much to her surprise (but not to Joan's), it was not Will.
"Hey," Luke said, as he and Kevin entered the room.
"What are you doing here?" Joan asked. "Where's Dad?"
"He's-" Luke began.
"We talked," Kevin interrupted. "He just...needs a little more time."
"You left him alone?!" Joan exclaimed. "Oh my God, I've got to warn Adam-"
"Relax, sub defective," Luke said, setting down the bags he'd brought in with him. "Here."
He handed Joan a pair of pajamas, and she smiled gratefully.
"We thought you guys would probably be hungry," Kevin said, handing Helen a bag of sandwiches, crackers, and apple slices.
"That's so sweet, honey," Helen said, ruffling Kevin's hair and kissing Luke on the cheek.
By the time Helen and Joan had finished eating, it was nearly four a.m., and the four of them collapsed onto the beds and fell asleep. But only Kevin and Luke really slept...Helen was awake, trying to mute her cries with the thin foam pillow so as not to wake Joan. But Joan lay beside her, back to back, just as awake, and all too aware that her mother was crying. Joan cried too, as she pictured her father, alone and angry in their dark house, being treated like the bad guy when all of this was Joan's fault.
Innogen - Well, I must say, that's the closest review I've had to a flame...I'm sorry you don't like my style, but my story *is* prewritten, and that's why my chapters, or "snippets", are so short. I don't have a ton of time to write during the week, so I try to sort of "ration" out what I *do* write. Otherwise, you'd get a long chapter every month! Also, I write like a TV show...action, then a commercial that makes you want to come back and watch again, as opposed to a three-hour epic movie, where your attention drifts and you get bored. Some people like it, and some people don't. But it's the way I write. I hope it's not enough to turn you off of my story. BTW, apology accepted, no worries. =) I tried to end this not on a cliffhanger, just for you.
AL - Thanks for all your great reviews and suggestions, all very helpful! Thanks for being peacemaker too, and for being a fan of my cliffies.
HandsOff/Hannah - Wow, thanks for the nice review! I love your story too, and btw, I say "flipping" all the time! Weird! LOL. =)
Thanks to everyone else who reviewed this chapter! Your input really does help my writing. =) I tried my hardest to make Will and Helen's reactions believable, sorry if they're OOC.
"You're home early!" Kevin chimed with feigned excitement.
"I think we got here just in time," Helen said in disbelief.
Will was immobile and mute, his lips slightly parted as he stared at Joan in awe.
"So, um, how much did ya hear?" Luke said, feigning casualty as much with as much vigor as his brother.
"Enough."
Helen dropped her bags on the floor, and started over to the chair where Joan sat, her face a canvas of brutal dread. But before Helen could reach her, Joan burst into tears and fled up the staircase.
Even as Joan lie on her bed, keening as though her life were over (which, from the look on her father's face, it very well might've been), she could hear her parents screaming at one another, as if each were trying to out-scream the other.
"Dammit Helen, we taught her better than this! She knew damn well that she was supposed to be responsible if she was going to do anything with that boy, and instead, she ends up knocked up!"
"Will, please, just calm down-"
"I will NOT calm down! I won't have this Helen, I won't have this...this...stain on my family!"
Silence.
"Well, then you won't have to!"
Joan heard quick, thundering footsteps up the stairs, and then her door burst open.
"Joan, sweetie, come on."
Helen spoke softly and moved deftly as she took a light jacket from her daughter's closet door, and then seated herself on the bed next to her.
"Come on, honey," she soothed, pulling Joan, still crying, into an upright position, and draping the jacket over her shoulders.
Helen took her daughter's arm and led her downstairs, and out the door, without saying a word. Kevin and Luke were left, stunned in the living room, while their father went off into the kitchen, stood in a corner, and started to cry.
"Joan, honey, please stop crying and just talk to me," Helen pleaded, as tears of her own slipped down her cheeks.
Joan stared out the car window into nothing. What did her mom expect her to say?
"Mom, I'm so sorry. I really am, and I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!" Joan cried.
Helen briefly closed her eyes.
"Then why did it?" she asked plainly.
Joan sighed heavily. She was still wondering herself. I'll get back to you on that, Mom, she thought.
"Do you really think this is a good time for jokes?" Helen demanded, and Joan realized she'd spoken out loud.
"Aren't you supposed to be hella pissed?" Joan asked, barely audible.
"Oh, believe me, Joan Agnes Girardi, I am hella pissed, more than I can express right now. But being angry with you isn't going to change the fact that you're..." Helen's voice trailed off, and she bit her lip to contain a sob.
"Dad hates me."
"Your father does not hate you, Joan," Helen chided. "Don't turn this around and make it about him. Because if you think I'm going to feel sorry for you, then you're 'hella' wrong."
"Oh, why would you feel sorry for me? I'm only scared to death about what's happening to me and what's going to happen to the rest of my life!" Joan exclaimed.
With that, Joan folded her arms protectively over her abdomen, over the tiny child that had caused all of this, and stared, focused, out the window as she cried her thousandth tear. Helen was silent beside her, knowing that her daughter had a point, but too furious and heartbroken to admit it.
Helen pulled into the parking lot of the town's Super 8, and got out of the car. Joan, perturbed, hastily followed.
After Helen had checked in at the front desk, she and Joan went to their room, and sat on the beds.
"Okay, Joan," Helen began. "Like I said before, I'm very much upset with you. But the first thing we need to do is take you to the doctor and make sure."
"Ew," Joan remarked.
"Hon, if you think that's gross, you'd better brace yourself," Helen said, stifling a laugh.
"Mom, I really am sorry," Joan said, tracing one of the flowers on the bedspread.
Helen sighed.
"I don't think you realize how much harder this is going to make your life. You're going to have a hell of a time now, Joan. I'm not saying I won't help you, because I understand that you're human and make mistakes. But this is about one of the worst mistakes you could've made."
"At least I'm not dead," Joan whispered.
"What?"
"I said, there are worse things in life than life, Mom. How do you think Adam and his dad felt about his mom? How do you think Mrs. Tardio feels? She lost her child. You've still got me," Joan said.
"You're not a child anymore now, Joan. You're an adult. And you're going to have to start acting like one. And don't try that guilt trip on me, because you know I love you and I always will."
"At least you do," Joan said softly.
"Your father...handles things differently. And I'm sure he'll come through that door any minute," Helen assured.
But forty-four minutes and one long conversation later, there was still no sign of Will.
"He hasn't even called yet, Mom," Joan said solemnly.
Helen blanched, and smiled wistfully.
"Sweetheart, he probably doesn't even know where we are yet."
Joan rolled her eyes.
"Mother, we're at a hotel fifteen minutes away. And besides, Dad's a cop, he could've found us in two seconds if he felt like it."
Helen leaned over and hugged her daughter. She couldn't believe that this little girl she held in her arms was going to have a baby of her own.
"God, Joan," Helen breathed, her eyes growing teary. "I just can't believe that my baby is a sexual being."
"Aw, Mom! Ew!" Joan squealed, pulling away from her.
Helen marveled at how teenage-ish Joan was, which made the fact that she was with child all the less believable.
Helen got up and started pacing, as Joan leaned back on the bed and rested her hands on her stomach.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Helen turned away from the window just as Joan sat up on the bed. They looked at one another, and then Helen answered the door. Much to her surprise (but not to Joan's), it was not Will.
"Hey," Luke said, as he and Kevin entered the room.
"What are you doing here?" Joan asked. "Where's Dad?"
"He's-" Luke began.
"We talked," Kevin interrupted. "He just...needs a little more time."
"You left him alone?!" Joan exclaimed. "Oh my God, I've got to warn Adam-"
"Relax, sub defective," Luke said, setting down the bags he'd brought in with him. "Here."
He handed Joan a pair of pajamas, and she smiled gratefully.
"We thought you guys would probably be hungry," Kevin said, handing Helen a bag of sandwiches, crackers, and apple slices.
"That's so sweet, honey," Helen said, ruffling Kevin's hair and kissing Luke on the cheek.
By the time Helen and Joan had finished eating, it was nearly four a.m., and the four of them collapsed onto the beds and fell asleep. But only Kevin and Luke really slept...Helen was awake, trying to mute her cries with the thin foam pillow so as not to wake Joan. But Joan lay beside her, back to back, just as awake, and all too aware that her mother was crying. Joan cried too, as she pictured her father, alone and angry in their dark house, being treated like the bad guy when all of this was Joan's fault.