Chapter Song: Have a Little Faith in Me.  The only version I know is by Jewel, so let's go with that one.

Adam lay on his side, gazing down at his sleeping wife. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her. She looked so open when she slept, so peaceful. As much as he wanted to stare into Joan's bright, brown eyes, hear her soft, sleepy voice say "Good morning," feel her cuddle against him as she was wont to do on Saturday mornings, Adam wasn't eager for her to wake up.

He could only imagine how upset Joan would be when she woke. Last night, she'd put her hurt aside because of his outburst. After Grace had left, she'd found him sitting on the end of the bed with his face buried in his hands. Without a word, Joan had climbed on the bed and wrapped herself around him from behind. The simple gesture had been the last straw. He'd pulled Joan's arms tighter around him and cried. As his tears slowed, he'd wondered if he would ever get over his mother's death. It kept catching him unawares at the most inopportune times.

She'd removed his shoes as he'd sniffled and coaxed him into bed. Then she'd lain down beside him and held him close, silently letting him know she was there and that she understood. Now it was morning and his emotional crisis was over. She wouldn't forget that he'd called her Joan. And he wasn't sure she'd accept his reason for doing so.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Adam refocused his gaze on Joan. She'd awakened sometime during his reverie judging from the lack of sleepiness in her eyes. "Good morning."

"Morning," she returned. Then she smiled. "My offer's still on the table."

He smiled in spite of himself. "I was thinking about what I said to you last night."

"It's okay, Adam."

"What?" That was the last thing he'd expected her to say.

"It's okay. I understand."

"You do?"

Joan nodded and caressed his cheek, bewildering him even more. "You were trying to keep the situation from getting worse. You did what you had to do."

"I didn't have to call you what I called you."

Laughing, Joan said, "It's not like you called me something bad. You said my name. I'll admit that it hurt, but it was supposed to. It was supposed to make me stop and think about what I was doing."

"I still could have come up with a better way," Adam insisted.

"Maybe. But your way was effective and, besides that, you had every right to be angry with me."

"But I wasn't angry. I just needed one of you to back down and I knew it wasn't going to be Grace, so it had to be you."

"I know," Joan said. "But the fact remains I was wrong. Grace shouldn't have come over and attacked me, but she was right. I would have told Luke if you hadn't stopped me. I meddle."

"That's one of the things I love about you: the way you care so much."

"Caring and meddling are two different things. I can care about Grace without constantly invading her personal boundaries."

"Somebody needs to invade her boundaries."

Joan grinned. "Maybe Luke will have better luck than I did."

"You think so?"

"He's got the Girardi determination on his side and they do have a 'past,'" Joan mused. "I'd say if anyone had a chance of getting through to Grace, it's Luke."

"I hope so."

"You're really worried about her, aren't you?" Joan asked, frowning.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Then why don't you talk to her about it?" Joan asked. "Let her know you're concerned."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Adam tried to think of how to make Joan understand something he didn't entirely understand himself. He knew that Grace listened to him, that his opinion mattered to her. But he also knew that his and Grace's relationship wasn't what it once was. She might have taken his advice when they were twelve, but that was a long time past and his influence on her had beenacutely diminished. Frowning in confusion, he said the first thing that came to mind. "I think I'm part of the problem."

"How so?"

"I don't know," he answered, slightly surprised by his revelation.

"You don't know or you won't tell me?"

He thought about it then said, much to his astonishment, "Both. I don't really know how I'm part of the problem. I just think that I am. But, if I did know, I wouldn't tell you because it wouldn't be my place."

"Okay."

"You aren't mad?"

Joan shook her head. "A little miffed but that's because I'm nosy. Most meddlers usually are."

Adam laughed before wrapped her in his arms and kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry I have to keep all this stuff about Grace from you."

"I understand," she said, snuggling in his arms. "They aren't your secrets to tell. And it's not like I don't have secrets from her. I never told her about the whole God thing and that's a pretty big secret so I guess she and I are even."

She fell silent and Adam felt her mood shift. He realized she hadn't mentioned God much, or at all, since they'd gotten back together. He suddenly wondered why. "Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"How's God?"

Joan pulled back and stared up at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. "He's fine, I guess."

"Good."

"Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "You haven't mentioned Him since we got back together and I just wondered."

"Oh. Well, I hadn't seen Him much and He never came up so I didn't mention Him."

She quieted again, this time playing with a button on his shirt. Something about this conversation saddened her, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "And now?"

"And now what?" she asked, raising her eyes to his.

"Have you seen Him recently?"

Joan's eyes flicked back to his shirt as she worried her bottom lip. He let her take her time. It was one of the things she'd always had difficulty sharing. Finally, she said, "Not since the wedding."

"He was at our wedding?"

"Actually He was a She then."

"Tall, curly brown hair, beautiful face?"

"Yeah," she said, surprise in her tone. "How did you know?"

"Followed your line of sight as you were coming up the aisle," he answered. "Do you know why He hasn't been around?"

Tears sprang to her eyes as she nodded despite her attempt to smile. "He won't be coming around anymore. He told me after the wedding rehearsal."

"Oh, Jane," he said, gathering her in his arms and kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." She buried her face in his chest, her head tucked neatly under his chin. "It's just as well, I suppose. Having me run around doing all kinds of weird stuff could only last so long, right?"

"I guess."

"I miss Him, though."

"He was a big part of your life," Adam said, stroking her hair. "Why didn't you tell me He was gone?"

"I don't really talk about that part of my life much and, apparently, our time was up. He said it was time." She shook her head. "I didn't want to dwell on it. Plus, I had you, so losing Him didn't hurt as much."

"I hardly compare to God."

Joan shrugged. "True, but I'd much rather have sex with you."

"You had sex with God?"

"What?" she exclaimed, jerking upright. "No." She shuddered and stared down at him, disgust thoroughly etched on her face. "Of course, not. Why would I . . . ew. I feel dirty." With that, she climbed out of bed and rushed to the bathroom.

Adam bit his lip as he stared at the bathroom door. He'd only been teasing but Joan's reaction was priceless. He eased out of bed and headed for the bathroom, undressing as he went. After all, the least he could do was apologize for grossing her out.

"This is fun," Joan said.

Grace glanced at her, eyebrow raised and lips quirked. "Sitting in the middle of the mall eating ice cream cones and watching people with questionable fashion sense and too many bags is fun?"

"Well, when you put it like that, yes."

Laughing, Grace rolled her eyes and said, "I can't believe you convinced me to come out here in the first place. If any place is the hotbed of gross consumerism, it's the mall."

"I forgot I was talking to the queen of consignment stores," Joan said with a smile.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with consignment stores."

"Found some of my favorite skirts at one," Joan agreed.

Grace scoffed at her friend and leaned back on their bench. "Where's Adam?"

"Spending the day with his dad. He's afraid Carl's been feeling neglected since we got married."

"And Sharon?"

"Catching up with old friends."

"Right." Grace had been surprised when Joan called her earlier and asked if she wanted to hang out. Had the situation been reversed and Joan had barged into her apartment with insults and unfounded accusations, Grace wouldn't have been nearly as forgiving, certainly not so soon after the incident. As much as Grace feared confiding in Joan, she knew that Joan would always forgive her, no matter how irrational or hurtful she was. "I was going to call you," she said softly.

"You were?"

Grace frowned at Joan's tone. Instead of sounding surprised by her revelation, Joan seemed to be nonchalantly prompting Grace to continue. Adam often used that tone when he talked to Grace as if he was always one step ahead of her. Now Joan had picked it up. It was like she'd lost all of her mystique. Rather than get pissy about this lost ground, Grace put it out of her mind and focused on the issue at hand. "I shouldn't have done what I did last night."

Joan shrugged. "Then you should be having this conversation with Adam."

"No," Grace insisted, "I said some things to you that were unfair and untrue and . . ."

"I accept your apology," Joan interrupted. She smiled in the face of Grace's guilty bewilderment. "But only if you accept mine."

Grace laughed. Joan was the only person she'd ever known who forgave so easily. Even when she didn't deserve forgiveness—and there had been times when Grace had gone too far with her abrasiveness—Joan would pardon her offenses within two days. Sometimes, Grace envied Joan that ability. "How can you just forgive me like that?"

Licking her chocolate chip cookie dough cone, Joan gave her a sardonic smile. "Because you weren't wrong," she admitted. "I would have told Luke. I wanted to tell him even without concrete evidence. And I would have if Adam hadn't stopped me. Again."

"Again?"

A blush colored Joan's face and she glanced down at her lap. "The only reason Luke knew about your 'pregnancy' was because Adam was talking me out of saying anything for the second time."

"Did you bring it up on purpose so he'd overhear?" Grace asked, her innate suspicion rearing its head at Joan's admission.

"No," Joan said with a shake of her head. "That's way too passive for me."

Grace relaxed against the bench and licked her Rocky Road. "That's true."

They fell silent, finishing their ice cream. Grace wondered, for the first time since she'd met Joan, why she really kept everything from Joan. She suspected her 'conviction' that Joan would tell her secrets was an excuse despite the hint of truth in the assertion. Joan did have a hard time keeping secrets but she wasn't a gossip. With a sigh and a slight headache from trying to examine the depths of her psyche on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of a loud mall, Grace polished off the rest of her cone and laid her head on the back of the bench.

She'd begun to nod off when she heard Joan say, "I really am sorry, Grace."

"Me, too."

"I won't do it again."

Grace laughed at the thought of Joan minding her own business. "Yes, you will," she said before sitting up and facing her friend. "Why do you insist on trying to 'fix' my life?"

Joan sighed. "I can't help myself."

"You can't help yourself?"

"No. It's like a compulsion," Joan confessed. "You know, 'Hi, my name is Joan and I'm an obsessive meddler.' I feel the need to try and make things better wherever I go."

Grace sucked her lips into her mouth and bit them in an attempt to not laugh. She wasn't successful. Resting her forehead on her raised knees, Grace laughed until her throat hurt.

"So glad my problem amuses you," Joan muttered, setting Grace off again.

When she could finally contain herself, Grace gave Joan an apologetic smile. "As far as obsessions go, it's not a bad one."

"Yeah, if only I could use it for good instead of evil."

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

Joan raised her eyebrow in challenge. "Are you going to say that the next time I butt into your life?"

"Probably not," Grace admitted.

"I didn't think so."

"But I'll try to be more understanding."

"I guess I can't ask for more than that," Joan conceded as she stood and stared expectantly at Grace. "Come on," she said when Grace stared back. "What's the point of being at the mall if we don't at least browse? It'll be fun. I promise."