A/N - Hey, look! Another little update! Yay for me! I'm in a baby sort of mood...Friday, in my child development class, our "flour babies" were born...so now I have a son, Jamison Joel, LOL...and then yesterday I went to a friend's baby shower (future inspiration?). My wheels are slowly beginning to turn again, so I am hoping to finish this fic before too long. Reviews are always helpful! Thanks! =) PS - There's a pinch of J/A fluff in this one.
"Friedman?" Adam repeated. "That Friedman?"
Joan nodded, and pulled her hair off her neck.
"Here," she said, replacing her left foot in the tub and placing her right on the edge.
Adam smiled, and began to rub her sudsy foot. She blew some bubbles at him.
"Can you imagine? I can't believe he wouldn't want to hold an assembly to announce that he actually HAD a girlfriend," Joan said.
"Yeah," Adam agreed. "Especially one as hot as Avery."
Joan kicked a splash of warm water at him.
"Hey! Just kidding, Jane!" he protested. "You know you're my sexy mama. Literally."
Joan smiled. She was finally getting used to the idea of having a baby. If only her parents could warm up to it.
"Hurry up in here," Adam said, kissing Joan's ruddy foot, and patting it. "I want to show you something."
Adam stood up and left, placing Joan's soft robe next to the tub. She wrapped herself in it, and tossed her hair up into a claw clip. What could Adam possibly want to show her?
"Come on, Jane, Baby," Adam said, taking Joan's hand as she stepped out into her bedroom.
"Where are we going?" Joan demanded as Adam dragged her down the hall. "The junk room?" she asked, unimpressed, when Adam stopped in front of the door to the room the Girardi's had used for all the junk they'd collected. It was like a second attic.
"Not anymore," Adam said, opening the door.
Joan's breath caught in her throat. The junk room no longer contained junk . The walls were painted with a mural of a yellow boat floating on a green sea. A white crib stood in the center of the room, with an Adam-made mobile hanging over it.
A rocking chair sat in one corner, and a changing table was in the other corner. It was simple, but it was obvious that it was a nursery.
"Adam," Joan said, her voice wavering. "It's incredible."
"It's not much," he said. "Your mom helped me paint. I hope you don't mind that we used my mom's letter as like, inspiration."
"I love it," Joan said sincerely. "And I love you."
Joan put her arms around Adam and kissed him passionately.
"Since we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet, I thought that this would be okay," Adam continued.
"It's perfect. You're perfect."
"What do you think?" Adam asked, placing a hand over Joan's belly.
Joan smiled, and put her hand over Adam's. She thought of Avery -- Avery would never have this.
"Well, I must say that this is a first," Grace said, looking around her, her mouth curved into an awkward grin.
"Chill, Grace, it is for me, too," Joan said, resting her hands on her ever-growing belly. She was really starting to look pregnant.
"So what exactly are we looking for?" Grace asked. "I thought Adam got you a crib and changing table and all that junk."
"He did," Joan said, grabbing a shopping cart with Babies 'R' Us stamped across the handlebar. "But believe it or not, babies need more than cribs and changing tables."
The two began wandered down the aisles.
"Awww!" Grace squealed suddenly, making Joan jump.
Joan looked over to find Grace admiring a plush deer, looking at it with her bottom lip poking out.
Joan raised her eyebrows.
"Sorry," Grace said, flushing scarlet. "It looked like Bambi."
Pouting, she tossed the stuffed deer back onto the shelf.
"No, get it," Joan said apologetically. "It can be the first present from Aunt Grace."
"Godmother Grace," Grace corrected, placing the deer into the cart. "Unless you've replaced me with Audrey."
"Avery," Joan said. "And you've got no reason to be jealous. Trust me, if anything, you should feel sorry for her."
The pair walked a few steps.
"Why?" Grace asked. "You're pregnant, but I don't feel sorry for you. Well, maybe a little, but not that sorry. Having a baby with Adam's not so bad."
"Exactly," Joan said.
"Huh?"
"Let's just say that Avery's baby won't have the luxury of a father," Joan said.
"What?" Grace said. "Why not? I mean, of course it's got to have a dad."
"Well, duh, Grace, it does, but he split."
"Who? Do I know him?" Grace prodded.
Joan pretended to look at a lamb-shaped nightlight.
"Joan?"
Joan sighed. "I can't really tell you Grace. It's not my business to tell. You know how much it sucked when my mom told my business. I can't do that to Avery."
Grace crossed her eyes for a moment.
"Girardi, you know, the loyalty thing goes both ways. You've got to be loyal to Avery, yeah, sure, whatever, but you've also got to be loyal to me. That means telling secrets. Besides, who am I going to tell?"
"My brother," Joan blurted.
Grace's eyes turned into saucers.
"Luke is the-"
"No!" Joan urgently corrected. "No, no, Luke isn't the father! You'll TELL him!"
"No I won't," Grace insisted breezily. "Besides, why does it matter if he knows? Does he know him too?"
"Grace," Joan said bitingly, warning her to shut up.
"He does?!"
"For the love of God, it's Friedman, okay? Friedman! There, now shut up and never say anything to anyone!" Joan cried, exasperated.
"Uhhh!" Grace moaned, closing her eyes in disgust. "Joan, please. Ew. Take the words back, take back this horrendous image of Friedman shedding his tightie whities!"
"Grace! Shut up!" Joan squealed, taking her crackers out of her purse. Grace yanked the package out of her hand and stuffed four into her mouth.
"You can't tell anyone!" Joan repeated, her mouth full of Saltine.
"Believe me, I won't!" Grace mumbled, crumbs flying.
They resumed their shopping, and Grace swallowed her mouthful of crackers. Patting Joan on the shoulder, she said, "You know, that might be tragic enough to earn Avery Godmother."
"Friedman?" Adam repeated. "That Friedman?"
Joan nodded, and pulled her hair off her neck.
"Here," she said, replacing her left foot in the tub and placing her right on the edge.
Adam smiled, and began to rub her sudsy foot. She blew some bubbles at him.
"Can you imagine? I can't believe he wouldn't want to hold an assembly to announce that he actually HAD a girlfriend," Joan said.
"Yeah," Adam agreed. "Especially one as hot as Avery."
Joan kicked a splash of warm water at him.
"Hey! Just kidding, Jane!" he protested. "You know you're my sexy mama. Literally."
Joan smiled. She was finally getting used to the idea of having a baby. If only her parents could warm up to it.
"Hurry up in here," Adam said, kissing Joan's ruddy foot, and patting it. "I want to show you something."
Adam stood up and left, placing Joan's soft robe next to the tub. She wrapped herself in it, and tossed her hair up into a claw clip. What could Adam possibly want to show her?
"Come on, Jane, Baby," Adam said, taking Joan's hand as she stepped out into her bedroom.
"Where are we going?" Joan demanded as Adam dragged her down the hall. "The junk room?" she asked, unimpressed, when Adam stopped in front of the door to the room the Girardi's had used for all the junk they'd collected. It was like a second attic.
"Not anymore," Adam said, opening the door.
Joan's breath caught in her throat. The junk room no longer contained junk . The walls were painted with a mural of a yellow boat floating on a green sea. A white crib stood in the center of the room, with an Adam-made mobile hanging over it.
A rocking chair sat in one corner, and a changing table was in the other corner. It was simple, but it was obvious that it was a nursery.
"Adam," Joan said, her voice wavering. "It's incredible."
"It's not much," he said. "Your mom helped me paint. I hope you don't mind that we used my mom's letter as like, inspiration."
"I love it," Joan said sincerely. "And I love you."
Joan put her arms around Adam and kissed him passionately.
"Since we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet, I thought that this would be okay," Adam continued.
"It's perfect. You're perfect."
"What do you think?" Adam asked, placing a hand over Joan's belly.
Joan smiled, and put her hand over Adam's. She thought of Avery -- Avery would never have this.
"Well, I must say that this is a first," Grace said, looking around her, her mouth curved into an awkward grin.
"Chill, Grace, it is for me, too," Joan said, resting her hands on her ever-growing belly. She was really starting to look pregnant.
"So what exactly are we looking for?" Grace asked. "I thought Adam got you a crib and changing table and all that junk."
"He did," Joan said, grabbing a shopping cart with Babies 'R' Us stamped across the handlebar. "But believe it or not, babies need more than cribs and changing tables."
The two began wandered down the aisles.
"Awww!" Grace squealed suddenly, making Joan jump.
Joan looked over to find Grace admiring a plush deer, looking at it with her bottom lip poking out.
Joan raised her eyebrows.
"Sorry," Grace said, flushing scarlet. "It looked like Bambi."
Pouting, she tossed the stuffed deer back onto the shelf.
"No, get it," Joan said apologetically. "It can be the first present from Aunt Grace."
"Godmother Grace," Grace corrected, placing the deer into the cart. "Unless you've replaced me with Audrey."
"Avery," Joan said. "And you've got no reason to be jealous. Trust me, if anything, you should feel sorry for her."
The pair walked a few steps.
"Why?" Grace asked. "You're pregnant, but I don't feel sorry for you. Well, maybe a little, but not that sorry. Having a baby with Adam's not so bad."
"Exactly," Joan said.
"Huh?"
"Let's just say that Avery's baby won't have the luxury of a father," Joan said.
"What?" Grace said. "Why not? I mean, of course it's got to have a dad."
"Well, duh, Grace, it does, but he split."
"Who? Do I know him?" Grace prodded.
Joan pretended to look at a lamb-shaped nightlight.
"Joan?"
Joan sighed. "I can't really tell you Grace. It's not my business to tell. You know how much it sucked when my mom told my business. I can't do that to Avery."
Grace crossed her eyes for a moment.
"Girardi, you know, the loyalty thing goes both ways. You've got to be loyal to Avery, yeah, sure, whatever, but you've also got to be loyal to me. That means telling secrets. Besides, who am I going to tell?"
"My brother," Joan blurted.
Grace's eyes turned into saucers.
"Luke is the-"
"No!" Joan urgently corrected. "No, no, Luke isn't the father! You'll TELL him!"
"No I won't," Grace insisted breezily. "Besides, why does it matter if he knows? Does he know him too?"
"Grace," Joan said bitingly, warning her to shut up.
"He does?!"
"For the love of God, it's Friedman, okay? Friedman! There, now shut up and never say anything to anyone!" Joan cried, exasperated.
"Uhhh!" Grace moaned, closing her eyes in disgust. "Joan, please. Ew. Take the words back, take back this horrendous image of Friedman shedding his tightie whities!"
"Grace! Shut up!" Joan squealed, taking her crackers out of her purse. Grace yanked the package out of her hand and stuffed four into her mouth.
"You can't tell anyone!" Joan repeated, her mouth full of Saltine.
"Believe me, I won't!" Grace mumbled, crumbs flying.
They resumed their shopping, and Grace swallowed her mouthful of crackers. Patting Joan on the shoulder, she said, "You know, that might be tragic enough to earn Avery Godmother."