Title: Picture Perfect
Author:Sabrinasmom3
Rating:PG
Disclaimer:I don't own Joan of Arcadia or the actors, blah, blah blah.
Summary:Luke and Grace do normal, everyday things together that end up meaning much more and that someone else sees as picture perfect.
Authors Note: Enough with the fluff. On with the drama!
Chapter 11
The day had come. From the moment Grace woke up Sunday morning her stomach had been churning. So had her mind. For a lot of the week she was too busy enjoying her time with Luke to think about her father's decision. But on Sunday, it was all she could think about. Every time the phone rang, her heart raced, but the call didn't come. Finally, at 6 o'clock, Grace couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the phone, then got Luke's attention and nodded to the stairs. She was trying to be inconspicuous, but unbeknownst to Grace, the entire Girardi family had been watching her carefully all day, so they all knew what she was going to do.
Grace led Luke up to "their" room and they sat in silence as Grace stared at the phone. A half hour passed before she worked up her nerve enough to make the call. She dialed her dad's office first, figuring that he would be there instead of home. He picked up on the second ring.
"Hey Dad."
"Hi Grace, how are you?"
"Fine."
There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Grace waited for an answer and her father hoped not to have to give her one.
"Your time's up Dad. What is your decision?"
"Grace, this is ridiculous. You have made your point, now come home! We've managed just fine the way things are so far and I'm sure that this was a one time thing. You are too young to make such rash decisions. Where would you live? How would you pay for things? Think about it Grace, you are very lucky to have a nice home with two parents and unlimited food and luxuries."
Through her clenched jaw, Grace quietly replied, "I told you. I can…not…do this…anymore. I take it that you have done nothing to get Mom help or to get her out."
"Grace, she's your mother. I can't just throw her out of our home. How would that look?"
"That's all you have to say. 'How would that look?' What about how would it feel? How would it feel to be called names and verbally degraded? How would it feel to have someone who is supposed to love and take care of you knock you down the stairs? I don't have to wonder because I know how it feels! I guess that makes no difference, does it?"
Her father sighed. "Grace, I have to go, there are people here waiting to see me. Goodbye."
Grace slowly lowered the phone to her lap and sat there staring at it. She didn't even hang it up. After a while a recorded voice came on the line to say to hang up and dial again.
Luke reached over to take the phone out of Grace's hand and hang it up. He knew he couldn't ask her, so he searched her face trying to tell what she was feeling. All at once, she looked hurt, sad, deflated, furious and devastated.
He knew nothing he could say would make it better, so he did the only thing that he could think of that might make her feel even a little better. He got up and threw a blanket over his desk and all his experiments. Then he went to his closet and pulled a cardboard box out from way in the back. He took it over and dumped the contents out on the bed next to Grace. It was a bunch of his old toys: a mini chemistry set, model airplanes, action figures, matchbox cars. He picked up one of the larger glass beakers and put it in Grace's hands. She looked up with a vacant, far-away look in her eyes. He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. All he said before walking to the door was "Throw it."
Once he heard the first smash of glass against wall, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.
Almost immediately Joan and his parents reached the upstairs hall looking startled and worried. He just shook his head and held his hand up to stop them. "Its OK, she really needs to do this."
"Let me know if you want help cleaning up later," Joan said as she touched his arm.
As his mother hugged him, she whispered, "It'll be OK, honey. Everything will work its way out." His dad gave Luke a sympathetic look then shook his head in disgust as he walked away. Once his family went back downstairs, he sat on the floor, waiting for the demolition to end and for things to get quiet again. Long before the smashing, cracking and shattering abated, the shouting and sobbing joined in. Still he waited, even though his heart was aching.
Grace finally ran out of things to break and dropped into a corner of the room. She hugged her knees up to her chest tightly and continued to weep. It wasn't until she had calmed down and nearly fell asleep of emotional exhaustion that Luke reentered the room. She was grateful for the time he had given her and for knowing exactly what she needed.
He approached her carefully. When she lifted her head to meet his eyes he could see that she was completely drained. He went to her, grabbed her hands and pulled her up to him. He protectively put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the bed. Without saying a word, he lay down on the bed and pulled her down to lay with her head on his chest. He stayed there with her until long after she had closed her eyes and her breathing became slow and even.
