Second Chances
- an Adam & Joan story -

by TeeJay

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Summary:
God suggests to Joan to do some gardening work, which makes her stumble right into Adam's personal problems that he doesn't want anyone to know about. Takes place between episode 2x21 and 2x22. Lots of Joan/Adam, less of the rest of the characters.

Author's Notes:
So, here's another piece about Joan and Adam. I don't know what's wrong with me, I can't keep from writing Joan/Adam fanfics! And I'm sorry about having Adam suffer again. I have tried to explain it to myself, and I guess it's a) because I'm a sucker for dramatic, emotional stuff and b) because Christopher Marquette is doing such a great job with the puppy dog eyes and the soft voice. :o) And I just love the Joan/Adam dynamic, so it's not like I had a choice.

This takes place between 2x21 'Common Thread' and 2x22 'Something Wicked This Way Comes', although I am kinda ignoring Ryan Hunter. Don't like that storyline, so there is no mention of Ryan (but it's not set up as though it didn't happen either). And I realized something almost three weeks after having written this story! In episode 2x22 Ryan gets Adam a job at the Arcadia Herald newspaper. I wasn't aware of that when I wrote this piece, but maybe it was buried deep in my subconscious. Or maybe it was pure coincidence that I came up with the same thing.

Reviews more than welcome (they're always an inspiration to *any* writer), flaming not so much (TJ_TeeJay@gmx.net).

Disclaimer:
These characters and settings are not mine (except maybe those that weren't in any JoA episode). Nor am I claiming they are. They are property of CBS, Barbara Hall Productions, Sony or whoever else they might belong to. I'm not making any money out of this, although I wish I was.

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"--and then my mom said that she would only do it if it was the last thing she ever did. That is so twisted."

Waiting for a comment or some sort of response, Joan paused and looked at Adam, who was standing next to her at their lockers in the school hallway. It was Wednesday morning and classes would be starting in a few minutes. Adam didn't seem as if a word of the little anecdote from home she had told him had registered with him.

To get his attention, she addressed him, "Adam."

He looked up at her. "Hm?" he asked.

"I just told you how my mom - oh, never mind."

"Sorry." He looked apologetic. "Guess I'm just a little spaced out today."

Joan's expression took on a tinge of worry. "You all right?"

Adam quickly nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"You're not trying to chicken out of the climbing lessons, are you?" Joan, Grace, Luke and Adam had arranged to go the recreation park and try their skills on one the climbing walls after school. It had been such a long time that all of them had done anything fun together, so Joan had been looking forward to it the whole week.

"The climbing lessons," he mumbled to himself. He looked at Joan with a serious expression on his face. "Cha, I'm really sorry, but I can't come."

Joan's face fell. "What do you mean, you can't come? We arranged this weeks ago."

"I know. I just have something more important to do."

"More important? Like what? Hooking up with some other girl?" Joan now sounded sardonic and disappointed.

At that last question, Adam's eyes clouded over with an expression between heartstricken and offended. Bitterly, he said, "Yeah, I'm going to hook up with some other girl and screw the brains out of her." He grabbed his bag, turned around and hurried down the hallway.

Joan was immediately sorry. She ran after Adam, calling, "Adam, I'm sorry. That was mean."

Adam kept walking. Joan tried again, "Adam! Please, I'm sorry," but he had turned a corner and vanished. Joan thought about following him, but just at that moment the bell rang and Joan had to get to her biology class. She decided she would apologize to Adam afterwards.

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During lunch break, Joan had tried talking to Adam, but it seemed he was avoiding being with Joan and her friends. When he had joined them at the cafeteria counter briefly, he had seemed absentminded and brusque. Joan had not gotten a chance to apologize to him.

When Grace, Luke, Friedman and Joan sat at one of the tables to eat, Grace leaned over to Joan and asked her, "What's up with Rove today?"

Joan shrugged. "I don't know. He already seemed under the weather this morning. And I think I kept making it worse by saying something really mean to him before first period. I was going to apologize, but he's making himself kinda scarce today."

Grace smiled, "Maybe he's just scared that we'll kick his ass on the climbing wall today."

Joan told her, "He's not coming."

Grace's eyes widened. "He's not coming?? Oh, that little chicken-hearted wimp, I'll teach him 'not coming'," Grace said as a mock threat.

"He said he had something more important to do. And this morning he looked, I don't know, like something was up, but he wouldn't tell me. Maybe you could, you know, talk to him?"

Grace pointed to herself. "Me? Girardi, you know I'm not exactly Sigmund Freud."

Joan sighed, "Yeah, I know. But you're also his friend, so can't you make an effort?"

Grace faltered. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

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Throughout the school day, Grace had not seen Adam except during class when there was no chance to talk. Strangely, Adam had always left the classrooms very quickly, as if he wanted to avoid conversation with anyone. It was just like that after last period, but Grace managed to catch him just as he was closing his locker, leaving the school. She ran after him, calling his name.

"Rove. Wait up!"

Adam had already left the building, so Grace went into a little jog to catch up with him. When she had reached him, she addressed him again. "Yo, Rove, would you stop for a second?"

Adam turned to her and told her in an irritable and impatient tone, "What do you want, Grace?"

"Whoa, ease up, I wasn't going to rip your head off or anything."

Adam looked a little less irritated, but still not at ease. "So, what is it you want?"

Grace didn't know how to start. "I ... Joan said you're not coming with us to the park today. Look, are you okay? You seem a little ... on edge today."

Sounding irritated again, Adam almost spat at Grace, "Yes, I'm fine. And, yes, I can't come. Why can't everybody get off my back about this? There will be another time to go to the stupid park, okay?"

He walked off without another word and Grace made no attempt to follow him. With her face in a confused frown, she went back to the lockers to put her school gear away and meet up with the others.

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Joan, Luke and Grace had thought about rescheduling the climbing lessons for when Adam could join them, but they decided to go anyway. They could always come back another time. Even thought none of them had managed to get to the top of the climbing walls with their little colored knobs and protrusions, they had all had a lot of fun.

Luke and Grace had gone to get a soda at one of the snack booths in the recreation park, Joan was slowly strolling towards the exit, waiting for her brother and her friend to join her again. She barely noticed the gardener, dressed in a green overall, raking a flower bed next to the path she was walking along. When Joan passed him, he addressed her, "It's a beautiful day for gardening, isn't it, Joan?"

She stopped. "Yeah, I guess it is," she said in a fake cheerful voice. "Let me guess, you want me to join some freaky gardening club."

Gardener-God shook his head. "Naw, not really. I think it would be more appropriate that you volunteer at the cemetery for some cleaning up work. Lots of fresh air, sun." Gardener-God took a deep breath through His nose. "Doesn't it smell good?"

Joan wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, whatever."

"You'll find contact details at the chapel at St. Andrews cemetery. And remember to bring Wellingtons." With that, Gardener-God put the rake into the wheelbarrow nearby and waved to Joan when He trotted off to the next flower bed He had to take care of.

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'Volunteers willing to help keep Arcadia's cemeteries clean, please call 555-939029 or see Father Tanner, St. Andrews Church, 39 Avery Road, Arcadia.' That's what the simple note printed in black letters on white paper in the glass showcase in front of St. Andrews chapel said. "Wow, that's a real eye-catcher," Joan mumbled. She jotted down the number and address on a piece of paper and went to go.

St. Andrews cemetery was a rather large area, surrounded by trees, hedges and flower beds along the paths that led through the cemetery like a branching river bed. It looked almost like a park, if it wasn't for the headstones in between. Benches were scattered along the paths at regular intervals, often you would see them occupied by mostly elderly people, bringing flowers or saying goodbye to their loved ones.

Joan wasn't really paying attention to the cemetery visitors, but the smallish figure on a bench to her left caught her eye. There was something strangely familiar to the way he was sitting on the bench, his back hunched, his head covered by a woolen hat. Joan carefully went up to him.

"Adam?"

He looked up at her, his eyes slightly bloodshot. The look in his eyes made Joan's heart skip a beat. The only time she could remember having seen him that sad was when they had watched the home videos that his mother had shot of him as a child. She sat down next to him.

"Adam, what's wrong?" she tentatively inquired.

He didn't say anything, he just stared at the ground beneath his feet, his head bowed. Joan tried again, "Adam, talk to me."

He just shook his head and suddenly got up. "I can't," he said, walking away from Joan.

Joan went after him, having to hurry to catch up with him. She grabbed his arm from behind to stop him. "Adam, don't run away! Please, tell me what's going on."

He looked her in the eyes and spat bitterly, "My father's going to die because of me. There, are you happy now?"

Joan was dumbstruck. Adam had continued walking again, so Joan now ran after him, placed herself in front of him and took him by his upper arms, so he would have to stop walking. She looked at him. "What do you mean, your father's going to die?"

"It's none of your business, Jane." He tried to worm himself from her grip, but she wouldn't let him.

"Oh, no no no, I'm not letting you walk away like this," she told him matter-of-factly. "Here, let's sit down." She guided him to another bench a few feet away where they both sat down. "Tell me the whole story," she urged him.

He still seemed reluctant, but realized that Joan was not gonna let him go unless he told her more. Hesitating, Adam finally said, "I never told you, but my dad's been having kidney problems the last couple of years. He's in chronic renal failure now and needs dialysis once a week."

Joan didn't know what to say. Quietly, she asked, "And how is that your fault?"

Adam looked to the ground again. "We don't have insurance. My dad lost his job this week because of his illness, and now that Michael fired me..."

"Adam, why didn't you tell me?"

"I ... I don't know. So much has happened recently. And after what you said to me in the bookshop, that it wasn't your problem anymore when I messed up my life, I didn't want to dump this on you on top of everything else," he said in a sad and soft voice.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do?" Joan asked.

Adam sadly shook his head. "He's already on the list for a transplant, but that list is so long." He fumbled his fingers absentmindedly. "You know, I tried to donate one of my kidneys, but we're not a match, he has a rare blood type. And if I can't find another job soon, we won't be able to afford the dialysis anymore. And I think you know what that means."

"Isn't there some sort of social state fund program or something for cases like this?" Joan asked.

"Well, yeah, we tried that ... but ... it's complicated," Adam said.

"Look, I can ask around if there are any jobs. I can ask Kevin, maybe there's something he can get you at the newspaper. Maybe I can talk to my mom and she can speak with Michael again, explain how good you are in her arts class."

"No, you don't have to do that, I can look out for myself."

"Oh yeah? And how well has that worked so far?" Joan made a sweeping gesture with her arm at their surroundings. "You don't have to do this alone, Adam. Friends are there to help you out when you need help."

"Right," he admitted, but didn't sound convinced.

Joan stared at the headstones in the distance. "What were you doing here anyway?" she asked Adam.

Quietly, he told her, "My mother is buried here. I ... I was going to visit her grave, but ..." He briefly paused. "But I couldn't."

Joan understood. She had had a hard time going to Judith's grave after her friend's death. She knew how it brought the sadness that always lingered in a part of her heart back to the surface, how it would make her death real and final. It was ironic, she thought, that it had been Adam who had come with her for support when she had gone to visit Judith's grave for the very first time after her burial. The least she could do was to repay the favor.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked Adam.

He slowly shook his bowed head. "I don't think I can. Not right now."

Joan nodded. "I understand." She took his hand and squeezed it as a silent sign of support. "Is there anything I can do?"

Adam looked at her again. "Short of winning the lottery for me, no."

This made Joan think. "You know, if it's only the money, maybe something can be worked out. Maybe I can--"

Adam pulled his hand away from underneath hers and interrupted her firmly. "No, Jane, I don't want any charity."

"This is your father's life! I don't think this is the time for misguided pride."

"You don't understand," he answered, sounding bitter again. "You've never had to struggle, you live in your nice, big house with your happy family."

Joan looked hurt. "That's not fair, Adam."

He looked away, ashamed. Quietly, he admitted, "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It's just ..." He stopped, biting his lower lip, fighting tears.

Joan took his hand again and tugged at it, motioning him to get up. It had gone dark by now and they should get home. "Come on, we'll figure something out."

Adam got up and walked next to Joan towards the cemetery exit. Joan asked him, "Does Grace know about this?"

"She knows about the dialysis, but not about the money stuff. You're the first person I've told."

"Do you want to tell her?"

Adam's brown creased uncertainly. "I don't know."

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Joan had dropped Adam off at home. She had asked if he was going to be okay, and he had assured her he would be, but somehow Joan couldn't get that nagging feeling of worry out of her system. Yes, the relationship between her and Adam had been anything but affectionate lately. But she had always cared about Adam deep down inside.

And now she couldn't stop thinking about how life had dealt him one blow after the other. First his mother's suicide, then Judith's death, their recent break-up and now his dad on top of everything else. Sure, the break-up had been mostly his own fault, but Joan knew that Adam had had a real hard time getting over it. And she knew that she hadn't exactly made it easier for him either. She had said and done a few mean things to him because she had wanted him to feel just a bit of that pain that he had caused her. Back then, she hadn't been able to see that he had felt just the same pain, or maybe even more so because he had himself to blame on top of everything else.

Even the more important that she put her hurt feelings away now and offer support for a friend in need. She entered the Girardi home, putting her coat on the coat rack in the hall. In the kitchen, her mom was preparing dinner, Kevin was sitting at the table, cutting peppers.

"Hey," she said cheerfully, even though she didn't really feel like it.

Her mom greeted her back. "Hey, honey. How was school?"

"Oh, you know... Normal."

Her mom motioned her to sit down at the table. Kevin shoved over another cutting board and a knife. "Here, you can do the onions."

Joan protested. "No fair, my hands will smell for days!"

Kevin gave her a broad, mischievous smile. "You know what they say, the devil takes the hindmost."

Joan stuck her tongue out at him, but started peeling the onions.

They worked in silence for a while. Then Helen asked, "How was the climbing lessons?"

When Joan didn't answer, her mother called her name. "Joan?"

"What?" she asked.

"Didn't you go climbing today?"

"Oh," Joan said, as if she had almost forgotten about that. "Yeah, we did. It was fun," she said in such a tone of voice that suggested it was all she was gonna say about it.

Helen realized that something must be bothering her daughter. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Joan first said. Then, after a few seconds, she added, "No. I mean, not really." She sighed. "It's Adam."

"Oh, honey, I thought you were all right with it by now," her mother said sympathetically.

"No, it's not that. I mean, part of it is, but it's just ..." She didn't know how much she should reveal to her mother and her brother as to not intrude Adam's privacy. "Adam's having some problems. I don't wanna go into detail, but he needs a job real bad."

She stopped cutting the onions. "Mom, do you think you could go to Mr. Mirren at the design studio and ask him to take Adam back? You know, tell him how many creative ideas he has and how good he is in arts class." She then looked at Kevin. "Or is there any job at the newspaper that Adam could get?"

Her mother's face bore a thoughtful expression. At first she was gonna say she shouldn't interfere, but she saw the hopeful look on Joan's face and rethought her answer. "If Adam really needs that job, maybe I can try."

Kevin also saw Joan's desperate expression and said, "I'll see if there's any opening at the newspaper, I promise."

"Thanks," Joan said and continued cutting the onions, blinking at the onion-vapor induced tears.

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The next day at school everything had been pretty much the usual. Joan had first met Adam at the lockers in the morning before first period. He had looked frayed and tired. With upcoming exams, everyone had been pretty much focused on lessons, so there hadn't been a lot of private conversation.

Everyone had noticed that Adam wasn't in a good mood, bordering on the depressed, but no one had the heart to ask him about it, especially not Grace after Adam brushing her off the day before. Nor had Adam exactly made any attempt at letting anyone in either. They had all just coexisted throughout the school day, exchanging only small talk banter.

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"Joan, what are you doing?"

"Pulling out the weeds?" Joan asked more than stated.

"No, these are field bindweed, they're supposed to actually stay in the ground," Mr. Johnsson, the volunteer supervisor told Joan, exasperated at Joan's apparent ignorance of plants and garden work.

Joan sighed. "I'll never get the hang of this."

Mr. Johnsson took Joan and guided her over to a man in his mid-forties with slightly graying hair and told her, "Here, stay with Jason, he'll teach you how to separate good from evil. At least in the plant world."

Jason smiled at Joan, extending his hand to her. "Jason Hall. You can call me Jason."

Joan took his hand and shook it. He had a firm grip and she could feel the calluses on his fingers and palms. "Joan Girardi. Joan," she replied, indicating he should call her by her first name also.

Jason gave here a quick introduction on which plants she could pluck and which should stay. Not only did he teach her that, he also told Joan a lot about the names of the plants, their Latin denominations and that some of the plants came from the same families. He explained that you could generally classify them from the shape of their flowers, leaves and stems. Joan not only found him a nice guy, he also had the uncanny ability to make what sounded endlessly boring in biology class seem interesting and worth paying attention to.

Joan had just learned that the yellow flower of the dandelion didn't actually only have only one flower but hundreds of them in one inflorescence and belonged to the composite family. She was still mulling over that when Jason asked her, "So, what brings you here?"

Joan didn't exactly know how to explain it to a total stranger. He would declare her a complete nutcase if she told him, "God walked up to me in the form of a gardener at the recreation park and told me to." So instead she vaguely said, "I thought it could be useful."

Jason pulled up one corner of his mouth in a half smile. "What, like free gardening lessons for when you have your own garden?"

"Something like that," Joan evaded. "What about you?"

Jason rubbed some dirt from his hand. "I used to live in the country, but we had to move downtown a while ago. No garden there, and I kind of missed the gardening work. I find it very relaxing, so I thought 'Why not do some gardening and do something good for the community at the same time?'"

Joan wrinkled her nose for a second. She couldn't understand how anyone could enjoy crawling in the dirt, much less find it relaxing. 'Oh well,' she thought, 'To each his own.'

When Joan and Jason had finished ridding their allocated space of weeds and things that didn't belong, they moved to another part of the cemetery. There they started clearing away some of the overgrow that had proliferated freely over some of the more unkempt headstones. When Jason pulled some twines aside, he picked up a piece of cardboard from underneath it. He brushed some of the dirt off it. "An organ donor card," he said, thinking out loud. He studied it closer to see if you could see who might have lost it, but the moisture of the ground had washed away the ink.

Jason turned the card over in his hand and said to Joan, "Funny, just the other day I was talking to my wife about getting one myself."

Joan immediately had to think about Adam and his father. She had been so absorbed in the gardening work and Jason's flora lessons that she had forgotten about Adam completely since she had come to the cemetery. She felt a little guilty about that.

"Joan?"

She was pulled from her reverie, Jason was calling her by her name and had apparently addressed her at least once before.

"Sorry," she said. "What did you say?"

"Are you okay? You look as if someone walked over your grave. No pun intended." He motioned at the headstone next to them.

"No, it's okay. It's just that I know someone who's waiting for a kidney transplant."

"Oh," Jason said. "All the more reason to get one of these. You know, I figure that if I will die anyway, at least some good might come out of that if I can help save people's lives by giving them my organs. Not that I have a death wish, but if I can save just one life by that, it will be worth it. Now I just need to go through with it."

Joan had actually done some research on the subject on the internet the day before. The whole Girardi family had gotten organ donor cards after Kevin's accident, but back then Helen had taken care of it. However, with Mr. Rove's current condition, Joan had wanted to read up on options and if his prognosis really looked as glum as Adam had said. Sadly, everything indicated that it did.

During her research, she had stumbled across a few websites that gave information about where and how you could get an organ donor card. She told Jason about it and he promised to get one right the next day. As a reminder, he pocketed the old, washed-out donor card he had found.

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Joan had gone home after working in the cemetery. She was now studying maths for their exam tomorrow. When she encountered a problem she wasn't able to figure out herself, she went over to Luke's room. She knocked and he told her to come in.

She put her notes in front of him. "Hey, can you have a look at this? I just can't wrap my head around that inflection point calculation."

Luke studied it for a minute or two and then knew where the problem lay. "Duh, you mixed up the numerator and denominator here." He pointed at one of Joan's equations in her notes.

"Of course," she said in a tone that suggested that this was anything but obvious. Then she sighed. "Man, I am so gonna suck tomorrow."

Luke shrugged. "Guess maths is not for everybody."

"Well, it's definitely not for me."

"Don't worry, sis, we'll still love you," he joked. Then he changed the subject. "Hey, look. I was gonna ask you, is there anything going on with Adam? He seemed kinda ... I don't know. Depressed. Grace also said they had kind of a row yesterday."

Joan was a little shocked. If even Luke noticed and inquired about it, it must be pretty apparent. But she wasn't gonna tell Luke any more than the other family members. If he wanted to know more, he would have to ask Adam himself. "He lost his job a while ago and he has to find another one, fast," was all Joan said.

"What, is he broke or something?" Luke said jokingly. But when he saw Joan's woeful expression, the half-smile vanished from his lips.

"I can't talk about it, but it's ... well, let's just say it's something more serious."

Luke sincerely offered, "Anything I can do to help?"

Joan shook her head. "I don't think so. If there is, I'll let you know."

"Okay." There was an uncomfortable pause. "If there's any more I can do about getting those equations sorted out for you, you know where to find me."

"Sure. Thanks," Joan said, got her notes and left her brother's room. Luke was the science nerd in the family and could be geeky at times, but he definitely had his heart in the right place. She could see how Grace would open up to him the way she had.

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It was dark outside, the street lamps were bathing Alexander Drive in a dim yellowish light. Joan approached the Rove house. She saw a light in the shed, so she went to where she would find Adam ever so often working on his sculptures and arts projects. Sometimes he would be welding metal together for a sculpture, sometimes he would be drawing or painting something. This time she could hear loud banging noises as she got closer.

She carefully opened the door. Adam was standing at the work bench, using a hammer to beat one of his sculptures to pieces. His face looked devoid of emotion, lifeless.

Joan went up to him. "Adam, what are you doing?" she asked accusingly.

Adam didn't stop hammering at the sculpture. Insistently, she addressed him again. "Adam!"

When he still didn't stop, she grabbed his arm, stopping it in mid-motion. He looked at her questioningly, as if she had just punched him in the gut and he was asking what for.

Quietly, Joan asked Adam a second time, "What the hell are you doing?"

The hammer glided from his hand and clattered onto the work bench. He sagged down onto the stool behind him. "I don't know," he said. "I just ... I needed to ... I don't know what I was doing."

Adam looked down at the scattered pieces of metal, wiring and plastic that had once been a sculpture he had built for a school project. When he realized what he had just destroyed, he said through tears that were welling up in his eyes, "It's just ... none of this is making any sense anymore."

Joan couldn't help but comfort him. "Come here," she told him and embraced him. He leaned into the embrace and clutched Joan's torso. She gently stroked his hair, soothing his sobs with shushing noises.

When he had calmed down after a few minutes, he released his grip on Joan and got up. Joan watched him going to the other side of the work bench, intertwining his hands and covering his eyes with them. With a sweeping motion down his face, he wiped the tears away. He paced the small space of the shed, looking for the words to come. Joan waited patiently.

"I was so angry," he finally admitted. He stopped in front of the door, leaned his back on it and slid down onto the floor into a sitting position. Joan went up to him and sat down next to him. Adam went on, "I really don't know why I just did that, but I needed to smash something."

Joan thought back to when she had gotten to know Adam almost two years ago. "Adam, you told me you made these things to remember your mother. Are you angry at her?"

"I don't know who I'm angry at. Mostly at myself, I guess. It's like I've been screwing up everything lately. My mom, my job, the hiking trip, the night at the concert." He turned his head to look at Joan. "The thing with Bonnie. And now my dad. My life's all just one big failure, all the consequences leading up to this point. It's like I'm losing everyone I've ever been close to."

Compassionately, Joan said, "Adam, don't say that. You can't blame yourself for what happened to your mother, and what's happening to your father. And you haven't lost me. I'm here now, aren't I?"

Adam's eyes filled with tears again. "Yeah," he whispered. "And I can't figure out why you still stick with me, after I've messed up everything."

Joan put her arm around his shoulders and Adam rested his head on her shoulder. Joan replied, "I told you before, that's what friends are for. To stick with each other, even when they have messed up. Or maybe especially then."

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Then Joan remembered why she had initially come to see Adam. She pulled her arm from around Adam's shoulders. "Oh, I almost forgot. Actually, I came here to bear good news."

Adam's face lightened up a little. Joan went on, "Kevin asked around at the Herald. They're looking for someone compiling articles and getting stuff from the archives. He said it was neither an interesting nor intellectually challenging job, mostly xeroxing things and boring stuff like that. But the pay is decent and, well, it's a start. They asked that if you want, you should come in on Monday after school."

"Cool," Adam sounded hopeful again. He looked at Joan. "Thanks."

Joan got up and held her hand out to Adam. "Come on, we both need some sleep for the maths test tomorrow."

Adam's eyes grew wide. "That's tomorrow?? Damn!"

Joan almost had to laugh at his dumbstruck, shocked expression. "Hey, relax. Unlike me, you actually have an idea what Mr. Bunman tries teaching us. Well, at least most of the time. I'm sure you'll do okay. Want some advice on last-minute cramming the night before a test?"

"Shoot."

"It's useless. Never worked for me. It'll only overload your brain and you end up more confused than before."

Adam resigned. "If you say so."

Joan smiled at him. "Besides, you can always copy from Steve."

Adam chuckled. "Right." He opened the door for Joan to step out of the shed and switched off the light before he closed the door behind himself.

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On Monday Adam had a hard time choosing what to wear in the morning. He really needed this job at the Herald where he would be going to apply directly after school. He didn't want to look too dorky or fancy, so he went for a pair of blue jeans that wasn't too loose-fitting, a plain white t-shirt and a long-sleeved pale blue striped button-down shirt.

When he met Joan and Grace at the lockers before first period, Grace gave him a once over. Frowning, she said, "Yo, Rove, what's with the decorous look?"

Joan also looked at him. "Yeah, if you wanna impress Ms. Shelley for the Spanish test, you look ... a little too conservative."

Adam looked a tad offended, but said to Joan, "The Herald after school, remember?"

"Oh," Joan said, suddenly remembering. "Yeah."

Just then the bell rang. Adam pointed down one corridor. "Computer class." He went off, leaving Joan and Grace to walk the opposite direction to their classroom. Grace looked at Joan questioningly. "The Herald? What was that all about?"

"Well," Joan said, "You remember how Michael fired him, right? He said he needed a new job, and apparently there's an opening at the Herald."

"The Herald, huh? Your brother wouldn't have a hand in that, would he?"

Joan smiled mischievously. "Ummm... Maybe. Sometimes it pays, having an older brother to finagle certain things for you, you know."

"So, how come you're actually getting your brother involved for Rove's sake, when the two of you weren't even speaking the other week?"

Joan and Grace entered the classroom and sat down at their respective desks.

Joan sighed. "It's a long story. And I think Adam should tell you himself."

Just then their teacher entered and began droning on about the Third Reich.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Joan returned to the cemetery after school, where the group of volunteers met again to continue to "keep Arcadia's cemeteries clean", as the flyer had stated. She looked around for Jason. She was actually looking forward to have him teach her more about the local flora. 'Who would have thought?' she mused. When she didn't spot Jason right away, she asked Father Tanner.

"You haven't heard? He was in a horrible car accident yesterday."

Joan looked stricken. "Is he gonna be all right?"

"I don't know, but why don't you find out yourself? He was admitted to Arcadia Angel of Mercy."

"Yeah, thanks," Joan muttered. All the anticipation of her time at the cemetery was gone in a flash. She half-heartedly helped an elderly lady plant carnations along one of the cemetery paths, but after half an hour excused herself and went home.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Adam looked up at the words ARCADIA HERALD displaying on the sign in front of the glass-walled building he was approaching. Quickly adjusting his shirt sleeves that he had rolled up during classes, he entered and asked for the contact person that Joan had written down for him. He was sent to the third floor, where they made him wait in extravagant metal chairs for fifteen minutes.

Adam had ample time to look around at the starkly white painted walls that were dotted at regular intervals with colorful, abstract pictures that looked like something Emil Schumacher might have painted. Suddenly, the door opposite him opened, and a man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a grey suit, white shirt and dark red tie told him to enter.

Half an hour later, the door opened again and Adam and the man in the suit, whose name was Derek Taylor, came out. Just outside the door, they both shook hands.

"Well, Mr. Rove, I will now show you your new work place and introduce you to Karen Wiles, who will actually be your boss."

Adam was smiling. The interview had gone well, and Mr. Taylor had told Adam right away that they would hire him. "Unchallenged," Adam said enthusiastically. Then he realized that he wasn't talking to someone his own age and embarrassedly corrected himself. "I mean, thank you."

Mr. Taylor was smiling openly at Adam. "Is that the new fashion word in high school now? 'Unchallenged'?"

Adam's face flushed a little. He admitted, "No, not really."

They took the elevator to the fifth floor where they entered a large office room that had several cubicles with people working in front of computer screens crammed into it. Mr. Taylor guided him through the maze of aisles until they came to a cubicle with a slightly chubby woman in her forties. Her brown hair was bound in a ponytail, and even though she didn't have a striking appearance, she still looked attractive.

Mr. Taylor made quick introductions and left Adam with his new boss. Kate Wiles looked at Adam approvingly. "So, Mr. Rove," she addressed him. When she saw the slightly intimidated look on his face, she added, "Or can I call you Adam?"

"Adam will be fine," he replied.

"Okay, Adam, let me show you where you will work." She took him past the cubicles and showed him to a very small office. It was only dimly lit by a single desk lamp on the only desk in the room and, since it had no window, had a slightly dingy air about it. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lined the walls. The desk was overflowing with piles of books, files and paper next to an old CRT monitor, keyboard and mouse being connected to a computer under the desk on the floor. A small xerox machine was in one corner, a microfiche viewer in another.

Kate Wiles shrugged apologetically. "We call it 'The Dungeon', I think you can see why."

"Yeah," Adam acknowledged.

Kate explained to him that he would mostly have to xerox stuff, compile and get articles and books from the archive in the basement or maybe even research some subjects for the editors or reporters.

"You think you're up to it?" she asked him.

Adam nodded. "Sure."

"Okay, then I'll show you the archive."

They entered the elevator and Kate pushed the 'B' button before the elevator doors closed behind them.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Joan stepped hesitatingly into the hospital lobby. She asked at the information desk for Jason Hall. The lady behind the desk told her to go to the surgery ward and ask there for more information. For a second Joan wanted to turn around and leave. She had had enough of hospitals for one lifetime. But she felt an eerie obligation to see how Jason was doing.

In the surgery ward, she asked for Jason Hall at the nurse's station. While the nurse told her to wait, a pretty woman with short blond hair came up to Joan. "Do you know my husband?"

'So, this was Jason's wife,' Joan realized. She told her, "Yes, I'm Joan Girardi, we did some gardening work together at the cemetery. I came to see how he was, Father Tanner told me what happened."

"The cemetery," Mrs. Hall repeated. "He loved gardening, he always said it was the best way to relax and forget about all the constraints of every day life."

"He told me that too." Then Joan realized that Mrs. Hall was talking about Jason in the past tense. She looked at Mrs. Hall. "You said 'He loved', does that mean ...?" She let the question hang in the air.

"His brain activity ceased last night. They're keeping him on the ventilator to see if he will improve, but it was determined this morning that he is brain-dead," Mrs. Hall said in a strangely detached way, as if she was speaking about a stranger.

"He's gonna have surgery tomorrow, they'll be harvesting his organs. Isn't it ironic, just the other day we talked about organ donation, and two days ago he went to get an organ donor card. It was like a premonition. They came to me with the donor card after the accident, asking if I would agree to organ donation. I ... I didn't know what to say. What if he would wake up again after all? Now they're gonna cut him open and basically take out anything of value. Like an old car that you salvage parts of. That just seems ... so wrong."

Mrs. Hall and Joan had gone to the waiting area of the ward and sat down in the chairs there. Joan told Mrs. Hall, "A few days ago Jason found an organ donor card in the cemetery and he said he would get one for himself too. And he also said that if through that he could save even one life, it would be worth it. So, for all it's worth, I think you made the right decision."

Mrs. Hall's eyes now started to fill with tears. She took Joan's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you," she simply said.

Joan sat there for another half minute in silence and then got up to go. Mrs. Hall stopped her. "Joan, if you want to see him, you can go in."

Joan shook her head ever so slightly. "No, I think I would like to remember him the way I last saw him."

Mrs. Hall nodded. "One last thing. Can you do me a favor and plant a petunia for him the next time? He loved petunias."

Joan said, "Yes, of course. I will do that."

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

On her way to the bus stop, Joan's cell phone rang. The display was flashing 'Adam cell'. She answered it.

She hadn't even finished saying the second syllable of "Hello" when she heard Adam's enthusiastic voice. "Jane, guess what, I got the job!" he blurted.

"Hey, that's great," she answered, trying to sound happy. Words bubbled out of Adam, he told her all about the interview and his new boss and workplace. When he was done with his monologue, there was silence on the line. Joan was happy for him, but her recent encounter with Mrs. Hall had rattled her enough to not be her usual chatty self.

After a few seconds of silence, concern crept into Adam's voice as he asked, "Jane? Are you okay?"

Joan didn't want to talk about this over the phone, so she tried to sound reassuring. "Yeah, I'm fine. Adam, that's so cool that you got the job. I'm really happy for you."

He asked her, "Where are you? Can we see each other?"

"No, I gotta head home and get some homework done. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Joan shut the cover of her cell phone and thoughtfully sat down on the bench at the bus stop to wait for the bus to arrive.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

The next day after school, Adam had gone to the Herald again to start his first day at the paper. He entered the large office on the fifth floor with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. He wasn't sure what to expect. He went up to Kate Wiles' cubicle. When she wasn't there, she asked the woman in the adjacent cubicle, who was typing hurriedly on her computer keyboard, looking at the computer screen in concentration while typing.

"Uh... I'm looking for Kate Wiles," Adam asked in an unsure voice.

The woman looked up at him, slightly irritated at being interrupted. "She'll be back in a minute. Just wait at her desk."

"Okay," Adam replied and sat down on Kate's desk chair. He swiveled it slightly to the left and right and studied the contents of her desk. A few pictures of women her age were pinned to the flat screen computer panel with adhesive tape. Yellow post-it notes with scribbled handwriting were attached here and there. A stack of copied articles was piled on one side of the desk. The computer screen was showing a layout of a newspaper page with different headlines and articles. There were some white rectangle spaces where Adam figured articles were still going to be inserted.

As he was casually reading the headlines from the screen, he heard Kate's voice behind him. He started and jumped up, immediately feeling slightly foolish for reacting as if he had just done something wrong. "Sorry," he said, apologizing for nothing in particular.

Kate laughed. "Hey, it's okay. I don't bite."

"I'll try to remember that," Adam said, now also smiling.

"Come on, let's get you started." As Kate and Adam walked past a waste-high cupboard with a coffee maker on it, she told him, "This is our communal coffee machine, so feel free to help yourself. Mugs, sugar and milk are down here." She indicated the doors of the cupboard.

"Ah, no thanks, I don't drink coffee," Adam declined.

Kate shook her head, but smiled. "Suit yourself. We're all coffee junkies here. Not to scare you, but everyone learns to appreciate caffeine after working here for a while."

Kate showed Adam to 'The Dungeon', gave him quick introductions into the different software search engines on the computer and left him with a list of articles he should get for her from the archives and a stack of paper for him to xerox.

As she went to go, she indicated the small copier in the corner, and told him, "This thing is fine if you just wanna copy a few pages, but if you have a whole pile of documents to copy, you can use the big one in the hall. It has a feeder, stapler and sorter and everything. Just ask if you don't know how to work it."

Adam worked on his assignments for the next hour and a half. When he was done, he took the pile of paper he had gotten from the archives and copied and presented them to Kate. She looked at him, surprised. "You're done already? Goodness, you're fast."

Adam blushed. "Guess I'm a quick study."

Kate looked around her desk. "Well, for the moment I don't really have anything else I could give you, but Kevin was gonna come up here with another project in ten minutes. Why don't you just grab a coffee? No, wait, you don't drink coffee. I'll get you from the Dungeon when there's more work you could do, okay?"

"Okay," Adam replied and turned to go.

Kate quickly added, "Oh, Adam?" She leaned closer to him and told him in a whisper. "That PC in the Dungeon has internet access. No one checks where you surf." She winked at him. "But don't tell anyone I leaked that to you."

Adam smirked at her. "I didn't hear anything from anyone."

"Just stay away from any adult stuff."

"No, I wouldn't do that," he said, almost shocked.

"Okay, good."

With that, Adam went back to the Dungeon. He quickly logged on to his e-mail, but only found two spam mails, offering him to enlarge his breasts or incredible mortgage rates, and the school newsletter. Not feeling like surfing the net, he leafed through some of the articles lying on the desk on which he had had to clear away some work space.

He started reading an article on how the local fire department had saved a scared kitten from the top of a tree because it couldn't come down again by itself. Taking a piece of scribbling paper and a pen, he first started doodling absentmindedly, but then began drawing a kitten in a tree. It soon became a small comic of the scared kitten in the tree in the first picture and the firemen coming to rescue it in the next pictures. He added some speech and thinking bubbles to the cat and the firemen, but was interrupted before finishing it by Kate, who was being followed by Kevin Girardi.

Before Kate could introduce them, Kevin said, "Hi Adam."

Adam replied, "Hey, Kevin."

Kate's eyes widened a notch. "You know each other?"

"Yeah," Adam said, "He's my--" He had wanted to say 'girlfriend's brother', but that wasn't true anymore. He repeated, "He's the brother of one of my friends."

Kate said, "Oh, okay. That explains it."

Kevin handed Adam another list of articles he needed to get from the archives and told him, "Could you get me these?"

"Yes, sure, that's what I'm here for."

"Great," Kevin said.

"Okay, you're all settled then," Kate said and left.

Kevin was also turning his wheelchair around, but Adam told him, "I wanted to thank you. You know, for the job..."

Kevin waved it off. "Sure. Glad I could help." An impish smile crept onto Kevin's face. "And don't thank me yet, I will have you run to the archives so often that you'll pray you never took this job in the first place."

Adam's face took on a slightly daunted expression.

Kevin laughed. "Relax, I was kidding!"

"Oh," Adam said. "Yeah."

"Okay, I'll see you around." Kevin wheeled out of the room and Adam continued working.

Kate had given Adam more small assignments in the meantime and he was busy for the next two hours. Then Kate came in and told him he had done enough for the day and that he should go home. Adam would have been happy to work some more, but also didn't object to going home, so he grabbed his backpack and left the Dungeon to return another day.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

As Adam was entering his house, he called out, "Dad, I'm home."

Only silence greeted him. A rush of panic swept over him. Had his dad collapsed and now lay somewhere, unconscious? He called out again. "Dad?"

When he rushed through the hallway into the living room to check all the rooms, he found a hastily scribbled note in his father's handwriting. "Tried to call you, had to go to Kennedy Memorial. Not serious, don't worry. Dad." Just as he had finished reading, his cell phone rang.

"Dad?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I just found your note."

"Listen. They think they found me a kidney. I had to go to the hospital to have some more tests run. If things turn out right, they'll operate tonight already."

Adam was stunned. "Wow. That's ... that's great. I'll come over right away. You want me to bring anything?"

"No, I already packed some things before I went. Second floor, room 414."

"Hang on," Adam said and looked for a pen. He found one in one of the kitchen drawers and scribbled the floor and room number onto his father's note. "I'm on my way."

Adam left the house in a hurry.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

At the hospital, Adam had found his father in his hospital bed with an IV already feeding a saline drip with medication into his arm. Both had huge smiles plastered on their faces since it seemed that the kidney that had become available indeed matched Mr. Rove's blood type and other tissue factors.

Adam stayed with his father until they took him into surgery. Both had talked about the possibility that the transplant might not work or even that there could be complications during surgery, but they were trying to focus on the hopes that Adam's dad would get well and that everything would turn out for the best.

Adam had promised to stay at the hospital and wait until the surgery was done. When Adam was sitting down on one of the more comfortable armchair-like chairs in the waiting area in front of the entrance to the operating rooms, he thought, 'Jane! I have to tell Jane!'

He went to find an area where he could use his cell phone. He dialed Joan's cell phone number, but only got the voice mail. He tried the Girardi home. No one answered there either. Adam looked at the clock fastened to the wall, 9:17 PM. Then he remembered Joan having said something about family dinner at their father's favorite Italian restaurant.

"Damn," he swore out loud. He tried Joan's cell again and left a message on her voice mail and hoped she would listen to it soon. He then called Grace.

Grace's slightly abrasive voice greeted him. "Rove, what's up?"

Adam didn't know how to start. He still hadn't told Grace the whole story about his father's recent decline in health. "Grace, There's ... I--" he stuttered. "There's something I need to tell you."

Grace was obviously waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, she said impatiently, "What, did you kill Price? Get it out, Stutterboy."

"I think you should come down to Kennedy Memorial."

"You're in the hospital?"

"Not as a patient, don't worry. It's about my dad."

"Okay," Grace just said. Adam told her where to find him.

Twenty minutes later Grace entered the waiting area. She plopped down into the chair next to Adam. With a mixture between curiosity and worry, she looked at Adam. "So, shoot."

Adam told her how his father's condition had worsened gradually lately and about the transplant. Grace's sometimes indifferent seeming demeanor vanished and you could see the compassion in her features when she realized what Adam must have gone through lately.

"Dude, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Adam remembered how Joan had asked him the same question. He shook his head, "I don't know, it just seems like everyone is having their own problems to deal with and I felt like I shouldn't add all my crap on top of all that."

Grace studied Adam. Determined, she said, "First of all, none of this is crap, and second of all, you can keep adding as much crap as you like onto mine. Because everyone is doing it anyway, so, seriously, dude, don't hold back the next time."

Adam knew that Grace didn't mean to sound so gruff, it was her way of saying he should confide in her the next time.

She asked him, "So, with the transplant and all, your dad is gonna be all right?"

Adam rubbed his face and then looked up. "Hopefully. Of course all sorts of things can still go wrong. Surgery complications, tissue rejection, things like that."

Grace remembered Joan's comment about the job at the Herald and asked Adam, "So, did you get that job at the paper?"

Adam looked surprised. "Yeah, I did. It's nothing great, though, but it'll do. How'd you know about that?"

"Girardi told me. Well, no specifics, just that you were looking for another job." Grace looked around, as if expecting Joan to turn up. "How come she's not here?"

Adam explained that he couldn't reach her on the phone.

"Want me to find her?" Grace offered.

"Naw," Adam said softly. "I'll tell her in the morning."

Grace sat with Adam for a while. Even though he put up a show of being brave and hopeful, she could see that he was nervous. After a while, their banter turned gradually into silence. Grace was half-heartedly leafing through a magazine. Adam had leaned his head back on the top of the backrest of the armchair. When Grace looked at him, she noticed that he had dozed off.

She got up and went to find a nurse. She asked if they had a spare blanket and the nurse found her one. Grace carefully covered Adam with it and left him to get some rest, even if it wasn't going to be anything close to quality sleep. But she figured he should get as much rest as he could, it would be a long night for him.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Adam awoke to the sound of voices and shuffling of feet. He needed a second or two to get his bearings. Someone had placed a blanket over his body. As he got up to see where the commotion was coming from, he stole a glance at the wall clock. 1:45 AM. He rubbed his eyes and his neck, which was aching from the awkward position he had slept in.

At the nurse's station, he asked for his father. The nurse checked something on her computer and told Adam to hang on a few minutes, she would get Dr. Wade.

Adam paced the hallway to try and get the stiffness from his joints. He saw a woman in blue scrubs coming towards him. When she approached him, she asked if he was Adam Rove. When he confirmed that he was, she told him that the surgery had gone well without complications. His father was now in the recovery room and that Adam could see him soon.

Adam couldn't help but smile at those news. He had to wait another half hour before he was led to the room they had put his father in. Adam stayed with him until a nurse came and told him that it wouldn't be for another few hours before his father would be alert and he should go home and catch some sleep. They would call him if anything came up.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Joan was sitting in the school cafeteria. She was all alone, no one else was in the whole dining area or anywhere else in the room. There was a huge birthday cake with creamy, colorful icing on it in front of her, candles stuck in the top, the flames dancing wildly even though there was no current or wind in the room.

"Congratulations, Joan," she heard a voice. She looked wildly around, but there still wasn't anyone in the room. Then she heard a rapping noise, like someone was knocking stones on glass. She went to the window and saw a group of kindergarten children, clad in devil costumes, who were throwing pebbles at the windows. The kids were laughing madly and picked up bigger stones with every time they threw them at the windows. If they went on like this, they would--

Joan floated from her dream to wakefulness, to find that the rapping noise was real and coming from her window. She got out of bed, went to the window, pulled the curtain aside and looked where the noise might be coming from. She could see a figure standing in the garden that looked uncannily like Adam.

She opened the window and a pebble just barely missed her head. It flew into her room and clattered to the floor next to her bed. In as quiet as possible a voice she said, "Adam? Wait, I'm coming down."

She went downstairs and opened the front door for him. He came in and Joan greeted him, "What are you doing here, it's the middle of the night!"

Adam looked happy, "Jane, they found a kidney for my dad!" he blurted. "I tried calling you earlier. They just finished the transplant, and everything looks good."

Joan openly smiled now too. "Wow, that's great news! I'm so happy for you." She gave Adam a hug and he hugged her back.

Since they were still standing in the hall, Joan said, "Don't you want to come in?"

Adam hesitated. "I should go home. It's just ... I wanted you to be the first to know that everything went well."

Joan took his hand and pulled him through the hall into the living area. "Come on, you can stay here tonight. There's no one gonna be at your house anyway."

Adam still didn't look convinced. "Your parents, they're gonna think..."

"Think what? We have a guest room upstairs. Really, don't worry."

Adam was finally persuaded and followed Joan quietly upstairs. Joan pulled back the covers of the bed in the guest room to check if everything was in order. Of course it was, so she showed Adam the bathroom.

She quickly went downstairs again. When she got back to the guest room, she handed Adam a pair of checkered boxer shorts and a slightly crumpled grey t-shirt with an imprint on the front that said 'I survived the 2002 Arcadia Science Fair'. "Here, you can sleep in those. They're Luke's, I got them from the dryer."

Adam took them and looked at them. They would do. Joan asked him if there was anything else he needed. He said he was fine and Joan went back to her own room and bed. But she couldn't go back to sleep right away, something was nagging at her.

How high were the chances for it to be a coincidence that Jason Hall dies and donates his organs and they find a kidney for Adam's dad, someone with a rare blood type, at the same time? How could God send her to work with Jason, only to take his life away shortly afterwards? And how could she believe in good ripples if people around her kept dying, people that she had gotten attached to in one way or another? Sleep slowly entangled her as she was still mulling these thoughts over in her head.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

In the morning, Joan was awoken by her alarm clock insistently beeping on her bedside table. She groggily hit the snooze button and wanted to turn around to slumber a few more minutes, when she suddenly remembered. Adam was sleeping in the guest room! She better give everyone a warning before her family discovered the uninvited guest.

She got out of bed, quickly tied her hair in a ponytail and went downstairs. Her mom and dad were getting ready to have breakfast. Luke and Kevin were nowhere to be seen. When Helen saw her slightly sleepy looking daughter, she greeted her. "Good morning, honey."

Joan got right to the point. "Mom, Dad, before you freak, I should tell you that Adam slept here tonight."

Her father suddenly stopped chewing on his cereal and looked at her. Her mother's mouth opened to say something, but Joan cut in, "Relax, it's not what you think. He slept in the guest room."

Helen had closed her mouth again, but now replied. "Oh, like that's going to reassure me."

Joan explained, "Mom, I'm telling you, it was completely innocent," she said insistently. "His dad is in the hospital and he came here in the middle of the night to tell me everything went okay with the operation, and I thought he should stay here instead of being all alone at home. Besides, we broke up, remember?"

Helen's features softened. "His father is in the hospital? Since when?"

Joan explained briefly about the kidney failure and the transplant. When Joan had finished, Helen told her, "Okay, let's say for now I believe you about Adam. Why don't you go get him, so you two can have breakfast?"

Joan went upstairs and knocked on the guest room door. When there was no answer, she knocked again louder. She listened for a few seconds if there was movement, but when she didn't hear anything, she carefully opened the door and went in. Adam was out cold, he was lying on one side, facing the wall, still asleep.

Joan carefully touched his shoulder. "Adam, wake up," she said softly.

He stirred and murmured something intelligible. Joan told him again, "Adam, you need to get up."

He turned his head toward her, rolling slowly onto his back and looked at her with sleepy eyes. Joan smiled at him. "Come on, time for breakfast."

Adam propped himself up on his elbows and rubbed one hand over his eyes, muttering, "Okay."

Joan smiled to herself as she left the room. 'And I thought I wasn't a morning person,' she mused.

After Joan had been to the bathroom, she went to her room to get dressed. Outside she could hear someone knocking insistently on the bathroom door.

Dressed in his robe, Luke knocked again. In an annoyed voice, he said, "Joan, come on, you don't have the monopoly on bathroom usage in the morning!"

A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened and Adam stepped out, still dressed in Luke's boxers and t shirt. He had a caught-in-the-act look on his face and mumbled, "Sorry."

Luke was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth, which hung open for a few seconds. Then he said stupidly, "Dude, you're wearing my ..."

Adam consciously looked down his body. "Yeah, I ..." Not sure how to explain it, he just said, "I should get dressed," and walked past Luke into the guest room.

Luke was still in shock. What was Adam Rove doing here in the morning, dressed in his clothes, to boot?? He and his sister hadn't ...? Had they? No, they wouldn't dare, not in the Girardi house. Besides, hadn't they broken up recently? But then again, he couldn't figure out his sister's strange moods, projects and actions sometimes. No, strike that, most of the time.

A few minutes later, Adam, now dressed, went downstairs. The Girardi family, except for Kevin, was already seated at the table, having breakfast or just having finished it. Adam looked slightly sheepish, he wasn't sure how Joan's family would react to have him intrude more or less uninvited on their morning routine.

Joan must have already smoothed out the waves, because he was greeted with casual 'Good mornings' and was offered cereal, orange juice, pop tarts and toast. He went for the cereal. Helen got him some milk from the refrigerator and sat down at the table again.

She asked him, "Joan told us about the transplant. I hope everything's going to turn out all right."

Adam swallowed his cereal and replied, "Thanks, Mrs. G."

Will raised his eyebrows slightly at the form of address, but didn't comment. He got up from the table. "Well, I gotta get to work." Looking at Adam he said, "I hope your dad's going to be all right."

Adam was chewing on cereal again, so he just nodded as Will left the house.

Joan, having just finished her strawberry pop tart, asked Adam, "Are you gonna be in school today?"

"I wanna stop by the hospital first. Maybe I'll come later."

"Okay," Joan said cheerfully. She then looked at her mom. "Can we drop Adam off at the hospital?"

Helen nodded. "Sure, honey."

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Neill Porter rushed into the Dungeon, roaming the desk. He was carrying his first morning mug of coffee in his hand, careful not to spill anything over the papers on the crammed desk. He had copied this one article on a kitten in a tree the other day and must have left it in here. He was in a hurry and needed this final article to finish his piece on the local fire department. He leafed through some papers on the desk and stumbled across the unfinished sketch of Adam's comic with the kitten and the firemen that Adam had left lying there.

Neill took it and studied it. "Wow, this is cool," he thought out loud. Underneath it, he also found the article he had been looking for. He took both and went to Kate Wiles with it.

"Kate, who did this?" He showed her Adam's comic.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. Where did you find it?"

"In the Dungeon."

"Then I guess Adam did. He's our new intern. Well, more like assistant..."

"I really wanna meet him. This is good." He pointed at the drawing.

"Neill, he's, like, 16 years old."

Neill raised his eyebrows. "So?"

"Okay, I'll let you know when he's back. He only comes in a few hours after school."

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

The hallways of Arcadia High School were slowly filling with students, who were changing from one classroom to the next. Joan and Grace were walking side by side, discussing the homework assignment they had just gotten, which, in their eyes, sucked big time. They both saw Adam at the same time, sitting on the steps in the hall and went up to him. He was reading something in a textbook. When he heard his name, he looked up.

"Hey," he greeted his two friends, his face lightening up.

"How's your dad?" Joan asked.

Adam told them that things still looked good, no post-operative complications or tissue rejection so far. Both Joan and Grace were glad that everything seemed okay.

Adam got up and slung his red bag over his shoulder. The three of them walked down the hallway to get to maths class. They started discussing whether they would get their maths test back today and who would have fared the worst.

Just as they were rounding a corner, Joan saw a familiar looking guy about her age with handsome features and brown, spiky hair standing off to one side in the hallway. She excused herself from her friends and went up to CuteGuy-God, confronting him.

"Tell me Jason didn't die just to save Mr. Rove's life."

"My my, Joan, we're not beating about the bush today, are we?" he replied calmly.

"Don't give that smug attitude, God. Just answer my question. It wasn't just a coincidence that Jason found the organ donor card, was it?"

"It's up to everyone to believe in coincidences, Joan."

"No no no. Don't give me that vague crap. How can you do that when people's lives are at stake, how can you pull the strings and decide with a snap of a finger who's going to die and who's going to live?"

CuteGuy-God leaned his back against the wall. "It doesn't work like that. It is the circle of life, and sometimes going round that circle means people are going to die and others are going to live. Everything happens for a reason, and even if you can't see the reasons yourself sometimes, it doesn't mean that they are not there."

"So you're saying Jason would have died anyway, no matter what I would have done."

"What makes you believe that you could have prevented his death?"

"It was you who sent me to work at the cemetery, who sent me to work with Jason. Him finding the organ donor card, that was all a part of your big plan, wasn't it? So that Adam's dad could get Jason's kidney."

"I can see why you're angry and confused, Joan. But don't give yourself more credit than you deserve for what happens in the world. There are some things that you have no control over. I want you to remember that."

Joan's face fell. Sadly, she said, "But why can't there just be good ripples?"

CuteGuy-God looked her in the eyes and said, "Because good can only exist when there's bad to compare it to. That's life, Joan, accept it and make the best of it."

With that, CuteGuy-God turned around and walked off. Joan thoughtfully stared at his back for a few moments as he walked away before she headed in the other direction to get to maths class.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

Joan was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping channels on the TV, having just eaten microwaved leftovers for dinner. She got stuck on one of the music channels, which was playing Avril Lavigne's song 'Fall to Pieces'. When she listened to the lyrics, she involuntarily had to think of Adam. When she got to the part where Avril sang "I'm in love with you" she wondered if she still was. Everything had been so confusing lately. Not that their relationship had been an easy sail before she had broken up with Adam. They had both made mistakes, and they had both not been completely sure what they wanted.

One thing Joan had known, she had not wanted Adam to sleep with another girl. Nor did she think he had really wanted it, but it had happened and couldn't be undone now. She had been disappointed, betrayed and angry when she had found out. She had been mad at him, had thought she hated him. But when she now thought back to the afternoon where she had told Adam that it was over, the only thing she remembered was how heartbroken he had been, how much his tear-filled eyes had screamed at her to forgive him.

She had not been able to do that just then, but maybe she was ready now. Or maybe not? Just when she thought things couldn't get more confusing between her and Adam, they did, and then some. She was pulled from her musings when the phone rang. She went to answer it.

"Joan Girardi."

A familiar voice greeted her, full of anticipation. "Jane, can you come to my house?"

Joan's brow furrowed in confusion and curiosity at Adam's invite. "What, like, now?"

"Please. I need to show you something."

Joan resigned. "Okay. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

She switched off the television, grabbed a jacket and went to Alexander Drive, where Adam lived. Upon arrival, she was greeted by Adam, who was awaiting her in front of his house. He had a mysterious look on his face, his eyes shining with a happiness that she hadn't seen for a long time. He simply said, "Come on," and they walked to his shed together.

In front of the shed, he stopped, turning to Joan. "You have to close your eyes before you go in."

Joan looked at him, curious. "What's with all the secrecy?"

"You'll see," he simply told her.

Joan closed her eyes and placed her hands over them. Adam took her by one arm and guided her inside. He stopped, so that both of them were facing the work bench, on which a newly created sculpture of his was standing. It was waist-high and made out of metal and differently colored plastic and hosepipe pieces, metal wiring and colorful ribbons, all intertwined and twirling around each other.

Adam carefully removed Joan's hands from her eyes, signaling for her to open her eyes now. She blinked and took in the sculpture on the work bench. It reminded her of a spiraling fountain that was spraying pure color. Her expression was a mixture of awe and surprise.

Adam asked her opinion. "What do you think?"

She whispered, "Adam, it's beautiful." She went closer and touched some of the colored ribbons. Then she realized what it was made of. "You took the pieces of the sculpture you smashed and put them back together to form ... this."

"I named it 'Revived by an Angel'." He turned to face her and told Joan, "I want you to have it."

"Oh, Adam, I don't know what to say. I don't think--"

He interrupted her. "Jane, I made it for you."

But Joan had already fallen in love with the sculpture. "Okay. I will find a place for it that does it justice, I promise."

In reply Adam just smiled that sweet, shy smile of his, then added, "Oh, I have another surprise."

"Another one? Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"

"It's kind of a long story, but I was hired by the Arcadia Herald as an illustrator today."

Joan's mouth opened. "You what? Wow, that's incredible. How come?"

Adam told her the short version. "When I was working the other day, I was bored and drew this little comic when I had to wait for new instructions. I must have left it lying there, but one of the editors found it and liked it immediately. He met with me today and asked me if I could do some more artwork for the paper. You know, like comics, illustrations, that kind of thing."

"That's great, Adam!" Joan smiled broadly, she was just as pleased as Adam.

"We still have to work out the details, but they'll pay me even more than Michael did if they're satisfied with my work. I have to come back tomorrow for some sketches before they make a final decision."

Joan walked up to him, took him by the upper arms and spun him around playfully.

"You're gonna knock 'em dead, Rovester." She called him by the nickname his former boss at the art gallery had once given him. Adam had taken Joan's elbows as a kind of foothold because they were both still spinning around. They slowly stopped and Joan was surprised for a split second when she felt Adam's lips upon hers, but she didn't pull away. She let his lips envelop hers and leaned still closer, hungry for that soft touch that she had so missed and longed for.

Suddenly she realized what she was doing and pulled back. They separated almost violently, both looking vaguely sheepish, as if they had just been caught at something forbidden.

Joan almost stumbled backwards, sitting down on one of the old chairs that was standing in front of the work bench. She was the first to speak. "What was that?"

She rubbed her face with her hands. "That didn't just happen," she said as if trying to convince herself it indeed hadn't happened.

Adam softly said, "I think it did."

"But how?" Joan asked incredulously.

"I don't know. It just did," Adam responded.

Joan's face now looked stern. "Adam, I'm not sure this is a good idea. I mean, whatever 'this' was. I ... I don't know we should be going there just yet."

Adam looked just as confused as she did. "Yeah, but I ... I think we both wanted it, otherwise--"

Joan lifted her arms with her palms outstretched towards Adam in a 'Stop' gesture. "Please don't. I need some time to think about this, okay?"

"Okay," Adam said in a disheartened tone.

"I think I should leave now," Joan said and got up, walking towards the door. She completely forgot about the sculpture.

Adam quietly reminded her, "Do you still want to take the sculpture?"

"What?" Joan asked confused. Her brain was still stuck on her and Adam kissing a minute ago.

Adam indicated his artwork on the work bench. "The sculpture?"

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Um, can I pick it up tomorrow?"

"Sure," Adam said. "Tomorrow."

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

The next day, Joan parked her mom's car in front of St. Andrews Church. She had gone to Adam's place after school to pick up Adam's sculpture. She got out of the car and looked for Father Tanner. She found him in the church, exiting the confessional, having just finished his duties for the day.

She went up to him. "Father Tanner."

The clergyman, who was in his early to mid-fifties, looked at her. "Joan, isn't it? You helped at the cemetery. What can I do for you?"

"I have a favor to ask you. You remember Jason, right?"

"Jason Hall, of course. What a tragedy."

Joan just lowered her head slightly, but then looked up at Father Tanner again. "I met his wife in the hospital. She asked me if I could plant a petunia for him, they were his favorite flower. I would like to do that in the cemetery, because he loved working there so much."

"Yes, of course," Father Tanner assured Joan. "You can plant as many petunias as you like, perhaps we can pick a good spot together."

"That's not all," Joan went on. "I have a friend who makes sculptures. Really beautiful sculptures out of what others would consider junk. It's kind of a long story, but, as you might know, Jason donated his organs for transplantation. And my friend's father's life was just saved by a kidney transplant. I'm not saying it was Jason's kidney, no one knows that. But I suppose it's possible, right?" Joan paused. "I'm babbling. Sorry."

Father Tanner looked a little bemused at Joan's comment, but she went on. "Anyway..." Joan sighed. "My friend made this sculpture in honor of his father's survival, and I thought that with Jason's organ contribution to save other people's lives, I was going to ask you if we could maybe put the sculpture in the cemetery with the petunias. To honor both Jason and the recovery of my friend's father."

"I think that's a lovely idea. But I would like to see the sculpture first, if you don't mind."

"Yes, of course. It's in the car out front," Joan said.

Both Joan and Father Tanner walked to Joan's car. Joan opened the trunk and carefully removed Adam's sculpture. She put it on the ground next to the car.

Father Tanner studied the tangle of metal and colors for a minute in silence, his hand rubbing his chin. Then he said, "It looks ... unusual, but there is a strange kind of beauty to it."

Joan added, "He called it 'Revived by an Angel'. That's sort of fitting for something to be put in a cemetery, don't you think?"

Father Tanner's brow was creased in concentration. "I'm trying to think of a place to put it, and I think I already know the perfect spot." He gestured toward the way to the cemetery. "Come on, let me show you."

They walked in silence to the cemetery and Father Tanner guided her to a place a little outside the main grave area. These were more quiet surroundings of the cemetery, if a cemetery could ever be called lively. A group of benches was set in a semi-circle, facing a round flower bed in which pansies were blooming in yellow and purple.

Father Tanner pointed to the round flower bed. "People come here often to pray or just seek a moment's silence. And I don't know why they keep planting pansies everywhere in cemeteries, they have such a boring ring to it. They can be removed and we could clear a spot away in the middle of the flower bed and put the sculpture there. Around it, you can plant as many flowers as you like for Jason."

Joan looked content. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Father Tanner turned to Joan. "Maybe your friend could also write a small text. We could put a sort of information plaque next to the sculpture, so that people will not only be able to look at it, but will also know what it means and why it was created. If your friend would agree to that."

Joan liked the idea, but she wasn't sure if Adam would. "I will ask him. In the meantime, do you think it will be okay to leave the sculpture with you until we can put it up?"

"Yes, of course, I can store it in the basement of the parish hall until you come back."

"That would be great, thanks," Joan said as she and Father Tanner walked back to the church. "I'll be back in a few days with the petunias."

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

On Saturday, Joan took Adam to St. Andrew's cemetery. She walked him to the spot where they had put up his sculpture and planted the flowers, and Adam also loved it. Joan had chosen different colors for the petunias that reflected some of those Adam had used for the sculpture. Adam had also liked the idea with the information plaque, so Joan had helped him put a short but concise text together that Joan had given to Father Tanner for it to be printed and placed next to the sculpture.

Now Joan was sitting next to Adam on one of the benches. Both were admiring Adam's sculpture in the middle of the luscious mix of colored flowers, somehow fitting in perfectly.

Joan looked at Adam. "So, you think I picked a spot that does it justice?"

Adam couldn't take his eyes off it, he liked it that much. "It's awesome. Unchallenged."

"Well, to be honest, Father Tanner picked it, but once I saw it, I knew it would be perfect," Joan admitted. "I'm glad you think the same way."

Adam looked at Joan with something between gratitude and admiration. "You're the most amazing person I know, Jane. I don't know how I could ever sleep with Bonnie, when I knew it would destroy everything between us." He looked down and shuffled his feet on the wet grass. "How could I ever be so stupid?"

Joan studied Adam's now sad looking features. "If even you don't know the answer, then how can I? Adam, you messed up pretty bad."

"I know," he admitted meekly.

"And I don't know if I'm ready to trust you again yet."

"I can understand that. But I hope that you will." He looked back at Joan. "And when you do, I promise you I will never cheat on you again."

Joan wished so much that were true, she really wanted to believe him. But something deep inside of her still wouldn't let her. She took his hand. "I need some more time, okay?"

Adam nodded almost imperceptibly. He moved his hand so his fingers would intertwine with Joan's. In a subdued voice, he said, "Thank you. For everything."

Joan now smiled. "Anytime." To change the subject, she asked, "Have you seen your father today?"

"Yes, he's doing fine. He's still on high-dose immunosuppressants, they're gonna keep him in the hospital at least another three weeks. But it looks good so far."

Joan and Adam resumed their talk about Adam's dad as they walked back. Joan hadn't told him about Jason's organ donation because she didn't want to put the additional pressure onto Adam, it would only make him realize once again that a person had to die for his father to live. She had, of course, told him about Jason's death and that she had planted the flowers in his name, but that was as far as it would go. She wondered if that underlined the fact that she wasn't trusting him completely, or if she wouldn't have told him this either if things were still different between them...

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

"Hey, Judith."

Joan was standing in front of Judith's grave, placing one red and one orange-yellow gerbera in front of the headstone. The stone had Judith's name on it, her date of birth, date of death and the inscription "Beloved Daughter".

Imagining Judith could actually hear her, she said, "Sorry, it's been so long since I've come by, but I've been kinda busy."

She paused. "No, that's not true. Well, it is, but it's no excuse, really. You know, God keeps me busy most of the time. Because I wasn't at crazy camp because I was crazy - or sick. God still talks to me, and I most definitely know I'm not crazy. Of course I haven't told that to anyone, so they all think I've claimed back my sanity. I mean, I told Adam when I was in the hospital with Lyme disease, but he ... well, he said he doesn't believe in God walking around, talking to people. But he believes that I believe it."

She lifted her hands in a shrugging gesture.

"I guess that's kinda the same as saying he doesn't believe it's true. And it's taught me to not boast about it, unless I wanna go back to crazy camp." Joan sighed. "So much has happened in the past few weeks. Adam and I broke up, did I tell you that? He cheated on me. With Bonnie! He slept with that little freak, can you believe it? Sheesh!

"You know, I can understand that he was confused when I told him I thought it was too early to have sex, that night after the concert in his truck. But did he have to go and screw some other little bitch instead, just to satisfy his raging hormones?" Joan's voice sounded angry now. She could have sworn she was past that, but apparently some anger would always remain. And there would always be that little tingle of mistrust and betrayal towards Adam just below the surface. She wasn't sure if she wanted to work her way past that.

She raised her arms at her sides and let them fall down again in resignation. "Sometimes, I just don't know what's going on with him. After we broke up, I thought I didn't care, but the truth is, I still do. Now more than ever, because I realized once more that he's dealing with so much more than I've ever had to. Sure, there was Kevin, and you, but where Adam's coming from, there's so much sadness and tragedy and hardship that I can't help but be proud he is as strong as he is. I think he has Grace to thank for a part of that. And last week he almost lost his father on top of everything. I don't think he would have been able to take that. And I really really hope he doesn't have to, but it looks like his dad is gonna make it."

Joan lowered herself into a crouch, so she was at eye level with the top of the headstone. "Sometimes I think it was a mistake to break up with him. I can't help it, I still love him." She let out a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. "Can you believe it, the other night we actually kissed. It was ... I don't know ... it just happened. I didn't want to, but I also did, and it was really awkward afterwards.

"I just don't know if I can ever trust him again. Man, I'm so confused right now," Joan sighed. She brushed some stray leaves off the top of the headstone. "Judith, do you believe in second chances? Do you think Adam deserves one?"

Joan looked at the headstone, as if she was expecting an answer or some sign of confirmation that giving Adam a second chance was the right thing to do. Right now she really wasn't sure if she was willing to open herself to another possibility of being disappointed or hurt again in the end. She listened, but there was only the faint sound of birds chirping in the trees nearby.

"Okay, I get it. I need to make up my own mind, huh?"

Joan got up from her crouching position. In a casual tone she said, "Other than that, everything's pretty much normal. If you can call what goes on around me 'normal', that is." Joan put her hands in her pockets. "Well, I just wanted to drop by and get you up to speed, so I better go now. Hope you are doing fine, wherever you are now.

"See you next time," she said before she turned around and made her way through the row of headstones towards the cemetery exit.

--..__..--==--..__..--==--..__..--

THE END.