A/N: First, sorry about the cliffie in the last chapter. It wasn't pretty but it needed to be done. I swear there's a point to it. Second, to prevent confusion, I've decided that somewhere along the line, Luke (yes, he makes an appearance in this chapter, sort of) skipped a grade and therefore graduated with Joan and the others. Just go with it. It'll make life (and writing) easier for me. Third, thanks for all the reviews. Hope you enjoy the chapter. Alexandri

Adam was decidedly unhappy. He lounged in the armchair in his father's living room, stewing in his displeasure. Carl lay on the sofa while his new girlfriend darted out of the room.

"I can get myself a glass of water, Sharon," Carl said, making a show of exasperation. But Adam wasn't fooled. He saw the amused pleasure flirting across his father's face. He enjoyed her attentiveness.

Adam just wished she'd go away. All he'd wanted was to take care of his father. Instead, Sharon had been around constantly for the past month—cooking, cleaning, running errands. She was managing things, so much so that Adam felt unnecessary to own father's recovery. "So, Dad, how are you feeling today?"

Carl stretched and sat up. "Better. How are you?"

"The usual."

"And that would be?" Carl asked, amusement lacing his tone. He was in exceptional spirits today.

Just as Adam opened his mouth to answer, Sharon bustled into the room and handed Carl his water before sitting beside him. She took his hand in hers and looked between the two men expectantly. When neither said anything, she smiled pleasantly at Adam. "Don't let me interrupt. Carry on with your conversation."

Struggling to contain the childish urge to make a face at the woman, Adam refocused his attention on his father. "Fine. I'm fine."

"Well, good. I've been worried about you."

"You've been worried about me?" Adam asked, incredulous.

Setting down his glass, Carl gently extracted his hand from Sharon's grip and folded them in his lap. "Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about it. You've seemed a bit unsettled lately. Is everything all right with you?"

A slew of sarcastic remarks flooded Adam's mind, none of which he felt were appropriate to say to his father. A bit unsettled. Of course, he was unsettled. He'd gotten a phone call in the middle of showing his most ambitious work to date by a woman he didn't know claiming to be his father's heretofore unheard-of girlfriend. Then said girlfriend tells him his father is in the hospital after suffering a mild heart attack. Finally, when he comes to take care of his father, he's basically relegated to "useless male" status. How was he supposed to feel, footloose and fancy-free? "Um," Adam cleared his throat, "I've just been worried about you, Dad. That's all."

Carl stared at his son. It was obvious he wasn't entirely convinced. He even had that "we'll talk about this later, young man" look in his eye.

"Your dad's going to be just fine," Sharon said as she reached over and patted Adam's knee. It took all of his willpower to keep from flinching. He knew he was being petty and unfair, but he didn't like this woman being here, insinuating herself into their lives like she belonged there. "He's in good hands."

"So I've noticed," he said with a tight, false smile. He stood up and headed for the coat closet. "I'm going to go out for a while, maybe go see Jane. Do you need anything?"

"No," Carl said slowly, watching his son. Oh, yes, they'd be having a father-son heart-to-heart soon, Adam could tell. "Have a good time. Tell Joan I said hello."

"Sure." Adam thrust his arms into his jacket and stuffed his keys and wallet in the pocket. "You two have a good night." Then he was outside and he could breathe easier.

"Oh. My. God," Joan exclaimed into the phone. "Has the Earth spun off its axis? Has the West Coast finally fallen into the Pacific? Has someone successfully cloned Einstein and Newton?"

"Hello to you, too, Joan," Luke said. She could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"What life-changing miracle of science has occurred that you're at home and actually answering your phone?"

"You know I can hang up just as easily as I answered."

Laughing, Joan leaned back on the sofa. "I'm just surprised to reach you. I was going to leave a message."

"If you don't get to the point soon, you may still get the chance," Luke said good-naturedly.

"Whatever, dorkwad. How's MIT treating you?"

"Why do you insist upon calling me that?"

"Because I'm your big sister and it's my job to torment you," Joan replied cheekily.

"I thought that was Kevin's job."

Joan grinned. "We share. Now answer the question. How are you doing?"

Luke groaned. "Fine. I'm just tired."

"Ph.D kicking your butt?"

"That's one way of putting it. I knew getting a doctorate in physics would be difficult, but . . ."

"Uh, Luke," Joan interrupted, hoping to head off a lengthy scientific explanation she had no hope of understanding.

"Don't worry, Joan. I won't even try to explain my thesis to you. An amazing thing happened when I came to MIT."

"What?"

"I came to a school of science geeks and developed social skills. Turns out it's really annoying listening to people go on and on about science all the time. Who knew?"

Joan burst into a fit of giggles. She had forgotten how funny Luke was. They didn't get to talk often enough. "I miss you, geek."

"I miss you, too, sub-defective," he teased. "So, why'd you call?"

"I haven't talk to you in a while."

"Well, I did spend the summer studying in Europe."

They spent the next half-hour trading summer stories. Joan relaxed into the conversation, marveling at how far their relationship had come. Sometime during their senior year, the two had gotten closer. She suspected their respective feelings for Adam and Grace brought them together as a sort of informal support group. When he'd gone to MIT, she'd been sadder than she thought she'd be and missed him more than she'd believed possible.

"By the way," Luke said, ending her reverie, "you did get my email, didn't you?"

"What email?"

"The one I sent congratulating you on your engagement. Mom said you and Adam are together again."

"No, I didn't get it and yes, we are."

"Things are good then?"

"Yeah," Joan said dreamily.

"Should I be hearing this?"

"Shut up, Luke."

He chuckled. "When's the wedding?"

"We haven't . . . ." Joan paused at the sound of keys in the door.

"Hey. Can't talk," Grace said as she zipped from the front door to her bedroom. "I'm late."

Covering the phone with her hand, Joan asked, "Late for what?"

"My date," came her roommate's muffled reply through her closed door.

Joan sighed and shook her head. Grace had been marathon dating recently, which was not at all like her. It was like she was on a mission, a quest to find some indefinable something and this was the only way to find it. Joan had asked her about it after her fifth date with as many men, but Grace had just shrugged it off as if nothing was unusual. Shrugging herself, Joan brought the phone back to her ear. "Sorry about that."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

His sigh weighed heavy on her. "You can talk about Grace, Joan. She's not a taboo subject."

"Yeah, I know."

"Uh-huh." Neither said anything for a moment, then Luke asked quietly, "How is she?"

"She's, um, she's okay, I guess."

"Good. So, when's the wedding?"

"We haven't set a date yet," she said as she watched Grace pad to the bathroom. Joan couldn't help wondering for the millionth time what happened between her brother and best friend to cause such a chasm. She'd been certain that there was something between them—something as special as what she had with Adam. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. A desire to pair up the people in her life because she was so happily coupled herself. "Things have been kind of crazy since we got engaged."

"Everything's okay?"

"They will be."

"Well, make sure you let me know when you pick a date."

That got Joan's attention. "Why? Are you going to tear yourself away from MIT long enough to come?"

"Of course," he scoffed. "You're my sister. Even if I were in the middle of a major break-through, I'd come to your wedding."

There was a knock on the door. She went to answer it as she smiled and said, "I love you, too, Luke."

"You'd better because if I am in the middle of a major discovery, you'll own me."

"Just schedule your discovery around the wedding," Joan said as she opened the door. Adam stood on her doorstep. "Hey, there." She leaned in and kissed him, one hand wrapped around his nape, the other dangling at her side.

"Hey, yourself," Adam said when the kiss ended. He gestured toward the phone. "Who're you talking to?"

"What?" Joan followed his gaze to the handset slipping from her fingertips. "Oh, no," she exclaimed and held it to her ear. "Luke, I'm so sorry."

Her brother snorted. "Yeah, yeah. You can make it up to me in December."

"What's happening in December?" she asked as she pulling Adam into the apartment.

"I'm coming home for Christmas. Didn't Mom tell you?"

With her jaw dropped, she could only manage a stunned "Really?"

"Yeah," Luke said in a deceptively off-hand manner. "Look, I have to go and so do you. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"And don't forget to let me know the date when you decide." With that, Luke hung up.

Dazed, Joan hung up the phone and sank onto the sofa next to Adam.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just," she broke off with a laugh, "Luke's coming home for Christmas."

"Is that unusual?"

"He hasn't been home for Christmas since high school. The Earth really must have spun off its axis." Adam laughed and she joined him. It was good to see him light-hearted again, even if it was over something fairly trivial. When their laughter died down, Joan noticed the shower wasn't going anymore. "Turn your eyes, Adam."

"What?"

"Just do it," she said before turning toward the bathroom. "Boy in the house," she called just as Grace opened the door.

"Geez, Girardi. Scare me why don't you?" she asked as she adjusted her towel. "Cover your eyes, Rove," she commanded and dashed to her room.

"Do I have a peeping Tom reputation I don't know about?"

Joan giggled. "No. We're just preserving Grace's modesty. She's in her room now."

Adam uncovered his eyes and looked a question at Joan. "Is she still acting weird?"

"Yeah."

"And she won't talk about it?"

Shrugging, she said, "You know how Grace is. I figured I'd wait until she was ready to talk."

"If she ever is."

Tucking her legs beneath her, Joan turned to Adam and silently studied him. Something was bothering him; she could tell by the way he pursed his lips ever so slightly. "You want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and she suppressed a sigh. She was going to have to pull it out of him. "How's your dad?"

"Better. The heart attack was like a warning or something. He's recovering pretty quickly."

"He's really lucky."

"Yeah." He stared at his hands for a long moment, his brow knitted as he thought. "I feel like I'm losing him."

"How do you mean?" Joan asked though she suspected she already knew.

A bitter smile settled on his lips and he picked at a hangnail on his thumb. "I've been here a month and he doesn't even need me. I could go back to New York and it wouldn't matter."

"Are you going back to New York?"

Adam slowly shook his head. "I don't think so. I've been thinking about coming home for some time now. You're here. Grace is here. Our families are here. My dad's not getting any younger and, after this, I want to be near him in case he needs me. Except he doesn't."

"He'll always need you, Adam. You're his son. Nothing's going to change that."

"I know. It's just that he has Sharon now."

Joan waited quietly. Now that they'd hit on the point, she'd have to sit back and let him take his time telling her his feelings. His shoulders tightened and he clinched his hands between his knees.

"It was my suggestion that he get out more, but I thought he'd hang out with the guys, not get a woman."

She bit her lip to keeping from smiling. He sounds so outdone.

Adam didn't notice. "And now she's always there, taking my place. Taking Mom's . . . taking over." He dropped his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm too old to feel like this."

"Oh, Adam," she crooned as she stroked his back.

Jerking upright, he turned to face her, his face anguished. "I'm twenty-seven-years-old, Jane. I've been living on my own for four years. My career is taking off. For Pete's sake, I'm engaged. I'm on the verge of starting my own family. Yet, here I am, a grown man acting like a spoiled, selfish brat because my very lonely dad has a girlfriend."

With a self-depreciating laugh, Adam looked back at his hands. "What kind of person does that make me?" he asked softly. "What kind of person begrudges his father finding a little happiness? He has a heart attack and all I can focus on is the fact that he isn't devoted to my mom anymore. Do you really want to marry someone like that?"

Taking his face in her hands, Joan forced his eyes to meet hers. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but what you're feeling is normal."

He dismissed that. "There's nothing normal about it."

"Listen to me. This is normal. You weren't anticipating this. You weren't prepared."

"That doesn't excuse my behavior."

"Your dad has been yours for over half of your life. You haven't had to share him with anybody. He didn't date or anything." She smiled comfortingly at him. "How can you be expected to just accept this?"

"I'm not seventeen anymore."

"No, you're not. But even adults have a hard time adjusting when their widowed or divorced parents get involved with other people. It's like they can't imagine their parent wanting to be with anyone else. It's not fair or rational but the way we think about our parents rarely is."

Adam raised sad eyes to her sympathetic ones. "I hate feeling like this."

"I know." Joan took his hands in hers. "But our parents change and so do their needs. Your dad had to let go of you a long time ago. Now it's your turn. It won't be easy, but I'm here when you need me."

He was quiet for a long time, letting Joan's words sink in. Finally, he asked, "How did you become so wise?"

"Believe me, it comes and goes. Besides, that wasn't wisdom. That was lots and lots of psychology classes."

Adam smiled.

"You know what else?" Joan asked.

"What?"

"You are one of the best people I've ever known, which is saying something because I've known a lot of amazing people. You're going to get through this and you're going to be just fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How do I look?"

Adam and Joan glanced up to see Grace standing in her doorway. She had on a sharp, black evening pants suit that flattered her figure impeccably. "Wow," Adam said.

"You look great," Joan added.

"Good. Thanks." Grace consulted her watch. "He should be here any min . . ." A knock interrupted her statement. "He's punctual." She sounded surprised.

"Um, Grace?" Joan said. She didn't really know what to say, she just wanted reassurance that her friend knew what she was doing.

Grace turned at the door, her eyebrow raised. Joan knew this look. It was the look Grace used to silently warn people to shut up and back off. If nothing else, Grace had developed subtlety over the years. "Yes?"

"Have a good time," Joan said, holding back her sigh.

"Thank you. I will." Then she opened the door and left with her date.

After a moment, Adam said, "That was weird."

"Yup."

"Something is definitely up with her."

"Mm-hmm."

"What are we going to do about it?"

Turning her attention back to Adam, she said, "We wait."

"Ah," Adam said with a nod. "We're sticking to the original plan."

"It's Grace."

"Right."

"So," she said, clearly to change the subject.

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

Adam smiled at her. "Food sounds good."

"Pizza or Chinese?"

"You have no idea how much that makes me miss New York."

"Yeah, yeah, and the answer is?" Joan asked, phone in hand.

"Pizza."

"I was hoping you'd say that." She dialed and quickly put in their order. "He said it should be here in thirty to forty-five minutes," she announced and hung up the phone.

Adam opened his arms to her and she settled into them. "What should we do for those thirty to forty-five minutes?"

"Something pleasant," she said.

"Obviously."

"And something necessary."

"What do you have in mind?"

Joan turned in his arms so that she could see his face. "Setting our wedding date. But only if you want to," she said hurriedly.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" he asked, bewildered.

"Well, with everything going on with your dad and all . . ."

"Hey," Adam interrupted, "that'll work itself out. Dad's recuperating. He's going to be fine."

"I know."

"I don't think he'd want us to put this off just because he got sick." He tilted her chin up and smiled down at her. "Besides, I really, really want to marry you and the sooner we start planning, the sooner it'll happen."

She couldn't have stopped the huge grin that spread across her face even if she'd wanted to. "I really, really want to marry you, too."

"Then let's set a date."