A/N - Yes, I know, it's been a long time! I'm sorry! Like I said, I am trying to figure out where to take this story. I am trying something out, but I am not sure if I'll like it or not, or if you will! So just be kinda patient with me, and I am totally open to suggestions! Maybe some reviews would help me get on track! Thanks, and enjoy the chapter! =) PS - I fast-forwarded a few months.
October
Joan rushed wearily back to the counter of the bookstore as she heard the little door bell jingle. She collapsed against it, as she noticed Goth Boy God perusing the shelves. He saw that she had returned, and He approached the counter.
"Hello, Joan," He said, sounding much too cheerful for a deity with that much black eyeliner.
Joan bit into a Saltine and grinned sardonically.
"Sorry about the wait. I was in the throes of another 'consequence'."
Joan had had terrible morning sickness ever since her second month had begun. She thought God was having too much fun teaching her a lesson.
God grinned.
"It's been awhile. So, how's it going?" He asked.
Joan sighed. Holy small talk?
"Well, I've spent the past four months of my life puking my guts out and enduring the silent treatment from my dad, plus, kids at school are starting to notice. The ones who didn't already know, that is, which is like, maybe Amy Anders, the deaf girl, and the transfer student."
Joan feigned a pleased smile.
"Your dad still isn't talking to you?" God pressed.
"Oh, like You didn't know that," Joan scoffed. "And I get a tight-lipped smile or an occasional head-nod, if it's a good day. But words, mmm, not so much. Mom doesn't even do anything. She tells me she tries to talk to him, but I know he'd listen to her if she had. He hates me, plain and simple."
"Joan, he's your dad. And much like Me, he loves you matter how many stupid mistakes you make. He's got pride, though. Your dad's pretty stubborn," God replied.
"Yeah, thanks for making him that way," Joan said.
God shrugged, palms up.
"I know you don't want to hear this, Joan, but just keep on giving him his time and his space. He'l come around eventually. Maybe it'll happen tomorrow, maybe it'll take seeing the face of his grandchild. Who knows?"
"You do," Joan shot back.
God smiled.
"Yeah, I know. No pregnancy perks," Joan sighed.
"I don't know...I've pretty much given you your entire pregnancy off," God responded.
Joan shifted her weight, and smoothed her tee shirt over her ever-so-slightly-swollen belly.
"So you're saying that after I have this baby, you're going to give me more missions? As if a baby isn't enough to handle?"
"You can do it. I know," God said, handing her back the words. "And as for school, try talking to your Mom about it. She's there everyday, maybe she can give you some peace of mind."
That evening, when Joan walked into her house, her mother was in the kitchen, going over some papers from class. Her dad was in the living room watching the news, Kevin was out with Rebecca, and Luke was upstairs on his computer.
"Hey honey, how was work?" Helen asked, not glancing up from her papers.
Joan sighed and dropped the car keys on the counter.
"Heavenly," she said sarcastically.
"That's nice. You missed dinner, but I left you a plate in the fridge," Helen continued as she leafed through the pages.
Joan made a face. The thought of eating made her cringe.
"I think I'm just going to go to my room and study," she replied. "Speaking of, Mom, when do I get to leave school?"
Helen looked up this time.
"When you graduate," she said sternly, suspiciously.
"But Mom, people are starting to talk-"
"Well Joan, what did you expect? Suck it up, it's not like you're the first pregnant girl ever at Arcadia. What about that cheerleader? I forget her name...Oh, and this girl, Avery, she's in my first period art class. She's due about a month before you."
Joan's jaw dropped.
"You've been talking to a pregnant girl about me?! And you never bothered to tell me about it?! Mother, I cannot believe this!"
Helen held her hands up defensively.
"Sweetheart, you said people already knew! She was coming in late in the mornings, and she finally confided in me, and I felt I had to give her something back-"
"It wasn't yours to give!" Joan cried. "I'm not some sad story you can use to make other people feel better!"
"Well, Joan, for your information, it didn't make her feel better! Avery's boyfriend left her when he found out! After offering to pay for an abortion, that is. So maybe you should consider yourself lucky!"
Helen dropped her glasses on the stack of papers and stalked out of the kitchen.
Joan sank into a chair. He offered to pay for an abortion? If Adam had done that to me, she thought, I'd...I don't know. That's the saddest thing I've ever heard. She found her hands resting on her belly again.
"Well, Baby, I guess we are pretty lucky, huh?"
Joan never thought she'd utter the word 'lucky' during her pregnancy...at least not in self-reference. And yet, here she was. She leaned forward in her seat, and looked out into the living room. Her father, glassy-eyed, remained in front of the television. His expression hadn't changed.
October
Joan rushed wearily back to the counter of the bookstore as she heard the little door bell jingle. She collapsed against it, as she noticed Goth Boy God perusing the shelves. He saw that she had returned, and He approached the counter.
"Hello, Joan," He said, sounding much too cheerful for a deity with that much black eyeliner.
Joan bit into a Saltine and grinned sardonically.
"Sorry about the wait. I was in the throes of another 'consequence'."
Joan had had terrible morning sickness ever since her second month had begun. She thought God was having too much fun teaching her a lesson.
God grinned.
"It's been awhile. So, how's it going?" He asked.
Joan sighed. Holy small talk?
"Well, I've spent the past four months of my life puking my guts out and enduring the silent treatment from my dad, plus, kids at school are starting to notice. The ones who didn't already know, that is, which is like, maybe Amy Anders, the deaf girl, and the transfer student."
Joan feigned a pleased smile.
"Your dad still isn't talking to you?" God pressed.
"Oh, like You didn't know that," Joan scoffed. "And I get a tight-lipped smile or an occasional head-nod, if it's a good day. But words, mmm, not so much. Mom doesn't even do anything. She tells me she tries to talk to him, but I know he'd listen to her if she had. He hates me, plain and simple."
"Joan, he's your dad. And much like Me, he loves you matter how many stupid mistakes you make. He's got pride, though. Your dad's pretty stubborn," God replied.
"Yeah, thanks for making him that way," Joan said.
God shrugged, palms up.
"I know you don't want to hear this, Joan, but just keep on giving him his time and his space. He'l come around eventually. Maybe it'll happen tomorrow, maybe it'll take seeing the face of his grandchild. Who knows?"
"You do," Joan shot back.
God smiled.
"Yeah, I know. No pregnancy perks," Joan sighed.
"I don't know...I've pretty much given you your entire pregnancy off," God responded.
Joan shifted her weight, and smoothed her tee shirt over her ever-so-slightly-swollen belly.
"So you're saying that after I have this baby, you're going to give me more missions? As if a baby isn't enough to handle?"
"You can do it. I know," God said, handing her back the words. "And as for school, try talking to your Mom about it. She's there everyday, maybe she can give you some peace of mind."
That evening, when Joan walked into her house, her mother was in the kitchen, going over some papers from class. Her dad was in the living room watching the news, Kevin was out with Rebecca, and Luke was upstairs on his computer.
"Hey honey, how was work?" Helen asked, not glancing up from her papers.
Joan sighed and dropped the car keys on the counter.
"Heavenly," she said sarcastically.
"That's nice. You missed dinner, but I left you a plate in the fridge," Helen continued as she leafed through the pages.
Joan made a face. The thought of eating made her cringe.
"I think I'm just going to go to my room and study," she replied. "Speaking of, Mom, when do I get to leave school?"
Helen looked up this time.
"When you graduate," she said sternly, suspiciously.
"But Mom, people are starting to talk-"
"Well Joan, what did you expect? Suck it up, it's not like you're the first pregnant girl ever at Arcadia. What about that cheerleader? I forget her name...Oh, and this girl, Avery, she's in my first period art class. She's due about a month before you."
Joan's jaw dropped.
"You've been talking to a pregnant girl about me?! And you never bothered to tell me about it?! Mother, I cannot believe this!"
Helen held her hands up defensively.
"Sweetheart, you said people already knew! She was coming in late in the mornings, and she finally confided in me, and I felt I had to give her something back-"
"It wasn't yours to give!" Joan cried. "I'm not some sad story you can use to make other people feel better!"
"Well, Joan, for your information, it didn't make her feel better! Avery's boyfriend left her when he found out! After offering to pay for an abortion, that is. So maybe you should consider yourself lucky!"
Helen dropped her glasses on the stack of papers and stalked out of the kitchen.
Joan sank into a chair. He offered to pay for an abortion? If Adam had done that to me, she thought, I'd...I don't know. That's the saddest thing I've ever heard. She found her hands resting on her belly again.
"Well, Baby, I guess we are pretty lucky, huh?"
Joan never thought she'd utter the word 'lucky' during her pregnancy...at least not in self-reference. And yet, here she was. She leaned forward in her seat, and looked out into the living room. Her father, glassy-eyed, remained in front of the television. His expression hadn't changed.