Idle chatter ebbs and flows around Joan as she picks at her roasted potatoes. She knows she's hungry—her stomach is protesting her disinterest—but the thought of taking a bite, chewing, and swallowing makes her tired. She gives the potatoes one last, half-hearted push and puts her fork down.
Vaguely, Joan realizes that Kevin has finished telling some boring story about playing golf with Dad and his new boss. A weird silence lingers when he's done. It grows, stretches, filters through Joan's preoccupied oblivion. She looks up. All eyes are trained on her. "What?" she asks, suddenly annoyed by the concern in their eyes, especially her mother's.
"We just wondered if you were all right," her mother says gently.
"You've been wondering that for two months now," she snapped angrily. "Don't you have something better to do?"
Her mother looks hurt. It surprises Joan to realize she doesn't care. After all, everybody hurts, right?
"You do not speak to your mother like that," her dad reprimands.
"Fine," Joan exclaims, shoving back from the table. She fully intends to go to her room, away from her family's prying eyes and heavy concern.
"You are not excused," her father says as her mom looks at her with imploring eyes.
"I understand you've been having a difficult time…" her mother begins.
Oh, really? Joan thinks nastily. Since when is Catholic school like crazy camp?
"We just want to help you through whatever's bothering you," she finishes.
Joan rolls her eyes. "You want to know what would really help?" she asks with a huff. "If all of you would stop acting like I'm going to freak out at any moment!"
"You mean like you're doing right now?" Luke queries as he leans away from any potential physical retaliation.
With a scary glare, Joan grits out, "You'd be upset, too, if you and Grace broke up." Suddenly, the fight, the rage disappears and Joan slumps back into her chair. Today has been such an emotional roller coaster and she is drained. Her stomach growls at her and, pouting slightly, she spears a bite of potato and eats it.
"Oh, honey," Helen coos, laying a comforting hand on Joan's arm. "Adam's not going to break up with you."
Somehow, Joan manages not to flinch away from her mother's touch. She can't explain it but she wants to keep the hurt she's feeling. She wonders if she truly is crazy. "I broke up with Adam this afternoon." Her voice is completely listless.
"Why…" Kevin and Will begin simultaneously.
"I had to." She sighs. Tears are pricking her eyes. "I need to go to my room now," she murmurs.
Will nods. "Go on."
Even as Joan leaves the dining room, she feels the disquiet she's left behind.