Props to LostinSpace.
Luke, Friedman, and Glynis are walking through the hall together; Luke's laying out a schedule for them to study for finals. I'll bet people who missed last week's episode are wondering just who the blonde chick in the miniskirt cut up to there is; between the clothes, makeup, contacts and body language, she's barely recognizable. If it weren't for the company we find her in, I'd probably have to remind myself that it's Glynis. Friedman, ever ready with a tactful remark: "This isn't going to be a problem 'cause you guys aren't squeezing the produce anymore, is it?" Luke: "Sharing data is entirely separate from matters of the heart." Glynis, flatly: "Of course." We shift focus to Joan and Adam; he's complaining that she didn't have to throw an eraser at him. She brushes chalk dust out of his hair as he coughs a bit, and she says she knows the history lesson was a bore, but he was snoring: "You know, like the Three Stooges, with the little 'whee' at the end." Aw. So he's not perfect after all. He mentions how tired he is, between finals and the hotel job he's had to take. They exposit that he had to take the job before school ended because they would have given it away otherwise, and it pays well.
Grace suddenly comes up in a lather, saying, "Dude, my English teacher wants us to be able to draw on everything we read this semester. Who remembers January? Did we even have one this year?" Dunno about her; the one I recall was about thirty-one days of cryogenically cold grey misery. Joan complains that she can't use a calculator on her math final: "Do they want us to ride horses to school, too? Maybe kill our own food?" Adam says he has to get to work. Joan offers to walk him there. Grace chases after them: "Hey, hey -- before the violins start playing: when are we going to study for chem?" Adam suggests a time, and Grace replies, "Okay, I'll move my math group to the morning, and write my Spanish paper during Hebrew class. That'll give me enough time to make my noose at lunch." She drops away just as they run into Helen, who wonders when she's going to see Adam's sketches for his final sculpture project. Adam says he's been running short of time. Helen reminds him she has to grade every phase of the project. Joan gives her mother some lip about being stressed out trying to study for things they won't retain anyway. Helen ignores her and extends an offer of extra help to Adam. He thanks her as she takes off; she stops and adds, "Adam, would you please ask your girlfriend not to be so snotty to the faculty?" Adam chuckles as Joan gives her mother a hostile look. Adam pulls Joan along with him.
Joan's got her arms wrapped around Adam's as they cross the street outside. She looks so cute in these vintage-style dresses and her little flats. I wish I could dress like that. Joan tells him she thinks her mother will be, if anything, harder on him than other students. Adam wishes the work would all go away so they could just hang out together. Joan says they'll have the whole summer. Adam points out that his job is full-time once school ends, and involves a lot of nights: "If you're working in the bookstore days…" Aw, she's working in the bookstore still? How come we never get to see Sammy? Why can't CBS do a special summer run of this show? Just six episodes maybe -- that I don't have to recap? Joan of Arcadia, Summer Edition? Joan says they'll have weekends, and adds that they can go on a hike at Mercer Creek, which Adam apparently suggested, and watch crappy movies. Adam's noncommittal, saying he can't really think about summer right now. They're at the hotel, so she assures him they'll get through finals. They kiss and part ways, sneaking fond glances at each other. So. Adorable.
Joan rounds a corner and runs into a guy dressed like a waiter and smoking a cigarette, who begins speaking to her in French about her relationship with Adam. Joan replies in French ("Oui, oui, oui") and when the guy launches into a much longer volley of French, she admits to being lost. He replies, "Really? But you have your French final very soon, so you should know what I'm saying." Joan looks around, and says, "Oh. So it's vous." She takes the Gauloise and stamps it out. "You want me to ace French? Why don't you make the language easier? Or make it…English?" He gives her a sarcastic thumbs-up: "English? Okay. I want, uh, you, to give to uh, your, boyfriend…a gift." Joan's pretty taken aback: "Whoa, you might be God, but you're a little clueless. We just started going out, very delicate time, way too soon for the gift thing. I'll -- I'll ace French instead. Je will ace français." Yeah, bonne chance avec that. French God insists that Adam needs something from her. She says she doesn't have time to get him a gift; she's got finals. He shrugs and starts walking away: "Okay. But before the finals, you give to him a gift." He wanders off with a Godwave as Joan stands there, incredulous. Credits.
Will and Toni are investigating a $3,000 robbery at a dry cleaning establishment. Will (channeling Lenny Briscoe again): "So…the cleaner gets taken to the cleaners. The irony: that's what I love about the job." They determine that the wiring to the security system was cut. Will asks the owner if there are any disgruntled employees who might have done this, but the owner says he has only one employee, who's been with him since 1978, adding (sort of under his breath), "I was fresh with her once…during the Clinton years." Will dismisses her as a suspect. Toni says a homeless man who sleeps across the street saw an old blue Honda. Will remembers that when a gift shop on the block was robbed last month, it had the same alarm company as this dry cleaner: "And we have a vehicle ID. Why do they even bother to commit crimes when there are cops like us?"
School gym. It seems a lot bigger than I remember, but maybe it's the camerawork. We hear the voice of Coach Keady (Diane Delano). Yay! She's so awesome. And how cool that she's back just after I put her into a poll last week about which character we want to see more of (she's the one I was secretly rooting for, even though I thought Grace would win). She's sitting on a stool, watching her students run laps around the gym and lecturing them: "Cardiovascular exercise increases blood flow to the brain, thereby increasing your chances for higher grades on the finals." Friedman flops past her in an unathletic manner and mutters, "Then how come the football team can't spell?" I don't think the gym teacher actually heard that, but she calls out, "Mr. Friedman, you're flailing! It's unattractive." Bwah! I love her almost as much as I do Grace. And "flailing" is a great word. Note that The Friedman is wearing some kind of turtleneck dickie under his polo shirt. What the hell is up with that? Joan and Grace are jogging along, discussing The Gift. Grace thinks it's too early: "Iris gave him those shirts, and then they were toast." Joan: "You think this is news to me? Adam needs a gift." The teacher demands five pushups. Grace asks, "Did he say so?" Frink: "Straight back, Joan!" Her form is really crappy. Grace's isn't a hell of a lot better. Joan says Adam would never ask for a gift. Grace, naturally, wants to know how Joan knows he wants one. She just does. Grace: "Then you should know what it is." Joan: "You'd think." Coach Keady commands them to run again. Friedman struggles up off the floor as she adds, "Up! That means vertical, Mr. Friedman!" I guess whether Friedman is his first or last name is going to remain one of those eternal mysteries, like why your computer only acts up when the tech support person can't get to your desk.
Joan asks for suggestions; Grace doesn't want a piece of that. "I say the wrong thing, you two break up -- I wind up with Friedman as a friend." Shudder. Joan pleads, "Come on, Grace, you known Adam forever." Grace thinks, and offers, "He used to like slot cars and Smurfs, but I wouldn't go there." Smurfs? Slot cars, I can see. Iron Maiden, I can see. Smurfs? The aesthetic is just so rude. Luke asks Glynis, "Please don't run so close to me." Coach Keady yells at them to get down and do some more pushups. Glynis and Luke drop to the floor as she asks what happened: "Was it something I did?" Her form sucks, too. Luke, who does a pretty good pushup, replies, "You know as well as I do that there are some equations where no definitive solutions exist. You and I are such an equation." Her face contorted with the effort, she informs him, "You're a cold and heartless determinist." The teacher yells for them to get up, and Glynis scurries off, while Luke looks annoyed and runs backward to "catch up" with his sister and Grace. He tells them, "Glynis is too intense. I need to switch study groups." Grace: "I'm starting to understand women who live with cats." I'm gonna let Sars field that one. ["Let's just say Grace doesn't know much about cats and leave it at that, shall we?" -- Sars] Joan tells her brother she already sees enough of him. Grace, more pragmatic: "Will we get your lab notes?" Luke: "Of course." Grace: "He's in." Not like you couldn't have them anytime for the asking, Grace. Joan: "Okay, but we're not studying right now. Go!" She shoos Luke away. She asks Grace whether she thinks Adam would like a new backpack, since his is kind of ripped. Grace: "Yeah, he'd love that, Mom. What about new underwear? I'm sure those are ripped, too." They pass Adam, who asks, "Hey, why are you two speeding? I mean, 'last' is our thing." Joan says there's no reason, as she pulls ahead again. Grace speeds up to catch her.
Courtroom. Kevin's sitting at the end of one row of seats, to some middle-aged guy with a notebook, who's sitting to some woman spending a lot of time applying lip colour. The guy says to her, indicating Kevin, "The new guy." Kevin says, "I'm Kevin Girardi." Guy: "I'm Roger Franz of BBY-AM." The woman introduces herself as Erica Stevenson from WGF-TV. A guy at the end of the row, who we'll call Poor Man's Paul Rudd in Trendy Glasses (and we'll hope Gustave doesn't mind me taking too many liberties with his thing, there) says, "Henry…Free Press." He's cute, if you overlook the somewhat smug demeanour. Roger says, "News'll roll in around lunch. We were thinking of ducking out to see the Ben Stiller movie this afternoon. Wanna come?" Kevin thinks not; he doesn't want to screw up his first day on the job. Erica says there's nothing to screw up. Get the docket, report some crimes and names, end of story. Roger: "Big case comes in, the satellite dishes will come out, and you'll be replaced by a first-stringer." Kevin: "I'd like to think there can be more to it than that." PMPRiTG: "Dude…I'm from the Free Press…and even I don't give a crap."
Luke and Friedman are walking through the hall. "She called me a determinist." Friedman: "God. Harsh." Luke: "I thought because we shared similar intellectual goals, she could deal with modifying our relationship." Friedman says he's trying to take her mind off it: "But she just keeps shoving me into walls. I'm sure it's a game." Luke's barely listening: "Women make no sense. They don't obey the rules! They don't even know the rules. Friedman, there are rules." Friedman tries to get him to settle down. Suddenly Joan tackles Luke and pushes him into a nearby classroom, saying she needs his help. Friedman: "Women."
They're in a classroom full of computers with LCD monitors. Not that I noticed; Frink pointed it out. I'm more involved in looking at Joan, because it looks like Amber Tamblyn's lost weight. Please, please, don't turn into one of those Hollywood Q-Tips. Not that she's close, yet, but she wouldn't be the first young female star to go down that road under the spotlight's relentless glare. Luke's typing stuff into a web site called GiftSleuth.com (which, interestingly, redirects you to Television Without Pity -- thanks, Brian Wilson of Darkwolf Enterprises, whoever you are!) as Joan tells him things about Adam: "Okay, he's a sculptor, so he's really good with his hands…" Mmm. Do tell. Luke looks at her, and she stops talking: "What?" I think he's reacting to where his mind went with that, but she doesn't seem to get it: "You said this site would help find the right thing, so type." Luke: "Fine. 'Sculptor. Good with hands.' What else?" Joan says he's sixteen and a really good listener. The search engine points to the Victoria's Secret catalogue. Joan: "What?" Luke thinks it must have been the "sixteen-year-old boy" thing. Okay, but…it's not like the catalogue is much of a gift, since it's pretty much free for the asking. And I don't know what he's going to do with anything ordered from the catalogue, so unless they're hinting at Adam's heretofore unacknowledged transvestism, I don't understand this suggestion.
Joan, annoyed, tells him to get rid of that and put in "practical." That brings up an electric sander. Joan: "Oh, that's romantic." Luke: "You know, if I could just offer an observation here about your overall method…" Joan: "No offense, but you couldn't hold onto Glynis for a month." A month? Haven't they been seeing each other for about two or three months? Gah, wonky timelines make me crazy. Luke: "Yeah, and it was exactly this kind of forced behaviour…" Joan makes a little "uh-uh, zip it" sound and inquires, "Do you see any body language that says I care?" Luke says nothing. Joan gets back to her problem: "Okay, romantic, but not overly romantic, because that's like a teddy bear with those 'I love you' balloons, and that'll just look like I got him something from the gas station." That, and like an incipient stalker. Joan rambles on about finding something romantic but which doesn't pressure Adam too much, but still lets him know how much she cares. Luke: "Should I be hearing this?" Joan: "No." She tells him to put in "sensitive," "sense of humour," and "budding romantic with potential for a full-on thing, but…at a somewhat…later date…" Luke: "Garfield night light." That's just…sad. Joan: "I'm meant to die alone." Hey, you could get cats. Even better: you and Grace could have a Boston Marriage. I'm just saying. She walks out.
Joan's walking down the street with Adam, who's on his way to work again. She says she thinks that maybe he's behind on his art project because he doesn't have "one of those reminder book things." She wonders if he would like one of those. No, he wouldn't; he just writes stuff on scrap paper. She asks what he would like if he could have anything in the world. He hems and haws, replying, "There's not much I want really, except you." Aw. See? Snoring is nothing in the face of that. Joan's not as moved as I am, or at least, not for long…"Oh, that's sweet…but let's pretend it's Christmas, we're opening presents…" She gasps: "'Oh, look, I got a puppy!'" Adam: "You want a puppy?" Joan: "No, they poop all the time! I'm just…work with me here, I'm trying to get into it…'And what did Santa bring for Adam? Not an electric sander, by any chance?'" Adam hasn't got time for this nonsense; he's slightly late for work. He takes off as Joan says, "Sorry." I'll bet Adam never thought, way back when he first sat at the Girardis' kitchen table, that a relationship with Joan could be more work than school, life, and a job put together. He suddenly comes back toward her, saying, "Chah, I'm such a dud, uh, I only have a dollar, and I need to get something to eat. Can I borrow some money until…" Joan says he can just have the money. She tries to give him ten bucks as a gift. Oh, Joan. Joan, Joan, Joan. He says he'll pay her back. She insists she doesn't want it back: "It's a gift." She's so thrilled to have solved her Godproblem that she's oblivious to his tone. He says, "I can buy my own food." Joan: "I know." Adam: "Just because I work, that doesn't make me a charity case, Jane." He thrusts the money back at her and starts to storm off. Joan says, "I'm sorry! I was just trying to be nice!" He turns back: "Nice? Nice? Nice is what you get from a stranger!" Joan, upset: "I'm sorry! It was really stupid." She offers him the money again, saying her can pay her back. He goes into the hotel, saying he'll get something at home later.
Joan walks away from the hotel, looking upset. From the back seat of a big expensive car -- a Rolls or a Bentley or one of those things; I don't know or care -- Kitty Montgomery says, "That didn't go very well, did it?" She really is the quintessential rich woman. I don't know if I can think of too many people who play the role better. Joan goes over to KittyGod, asking, "Isn't this a little over the top, even for you?" KittyGod tells her, "What you tried to give Adam wasn't a gift, Joan. It was an attempt to avoid giving, just like your internet search. Giving isn't about things." Joan: "Oh, you're going to lecture me on materialism?" She gestures to a huge honking diamond on KittyGod's right hand and says, "That rock on your finger could end world hunger." What if God wasn't one of us, hmm? (Yeah, yeah, I know: "weren't." But that's not the blasted lyric, is it?) She replies, "Just carbon. The same element that makes up the graphite in your pencils. People have endowed it with value; might just as easily have gone the other way around." I'm having trouble picturing blind beggars selling diamond jewellery out of tin cups. Joan: "Fifty-thousand-dollar pencils?" KittyGod: "Why not? They do more than this." She indicates the diamond ring. Joan: "Okay, let's swap: your ring for my Ticonderoga." KittyGod gets out of the car, handing her shopping bags to a doorman. She tells Joan, "A gift is an offering, a selfless act that adds something to someone's life, something that they need. And only the two of you can decide the value of that gift." Joan pouts, "He won't give me any hints!" KittyGod assures her they're everywhere: "You should know that by now. Find out what he needs, Joan." She walks into the hotel.
Toni and Will arrive at a park, as Will exposits that the perp in the dry cleaner robbery got laid off from the security company, but can't keep his hands off the alarms: "That's a man who loves his work." He calls over to a man pushing a little girl on a swing: "Ben Pollack." Will's got his jacket pulled back and his hands on his hips, so both his gun and badge are showing. Will introduces himself and Toni. Ben makes a gesture to ask Will to dial down the threatening pose a bit, which Will does. Ben tells his daughter he has to go talk to them for a moment, and to keep swinging. He walks over to the cops and says, "I'm not going to give you any trouble." He asks them to call his ex-wife to come pick up their daughter, so she doesn't have to be taken to the station. Will: "Now you're worried about being a good father?" Ben: "Look, I know that I screwed up…but I've been looking for work for months, and, uh…" Will glances at the little girl. Ben continues, "I don't want my kid to see this." Toni assures him there are social workers there to take care of her. Will, the big old softie: "How soon do you think your ex can be here?"
Joan and Adam walk into school. She's wearing a wide, pale pink headband and a very lightweight short-sleeved blouse, with about one button done up, rolled-up jeans, and sneakers. Dunno about the headband. She apologizes again for what she did yesterday. Adam says weakly that it's cool. She says it's not: "We should know things like that about each other." They enter an empty classroom to study. Adam: "No, it was me. I just shouldn't have…you know…" Joan: "Gone postal?" Adam: "Yeah." Dude, not to be too much of a bean-counter about it, but if anyone's entitled to a freak-out or two, it's you. Joan: "Hey, first fight, right?" Pause. "Except for all the other ones." Adam smiles a bit. Joan says that Dr. Phil says fighting can bring you closer. Man, I'm tired of Dr. Phil. I know this is going to get me in trouble with Wing and Sars, but I don't think they'd fire me during sweeps, so I'll just say it: I wish Dr. Phil would shut it. ["I'm kind of tired of him too, frankly, especially his sexist crap." -- Sars] Adam starts complaining about having to study wars and treaties and stuff, and says the only interesting thing about the nineteenth century was the art scene in Paris. William Morris, Richard Wagner, and I really have to take exception to that, but I still love him anyway. He realizes he's forgotten his history notes, so he goes to his locker to get them. As soon as he said that I knew Joan was going to start rummaging through his bag, and sure enough, after a moment or two, she does, rationalizing, "Hints are everywhere…just have to look, right?" She opens his bag, pulling out a thick, leather-covered sketchbook. She opens it and sees that there are only a few pages used at the beginning; the rest are empty. Glancing over her shoulder quickly, she rummages some more and finds…a condom. She's pretty stunned, and she exhales forcefully and drops it in the bag. She sits back down quickly just as Adam returns: "Here we go…thirty-seven pages of crushing boredom." Yeah, I'll bet she can concentrate on history now, what with God apparently dropping big latex hints on her like that. Also, she has such a one-track mind: it didn't seem to even occur to her that they might have been something he was carrying around for/using with Iris. I know, I know, but the possibility has to be considered. He and Iris haven't been broken up all that long, and God knows I edit the contents of my various bags, purses, and totes only slightly more often than George Bush issues a sincere apology for anything. So I wouldn't assume Adam's all Joe Neatnik about his bag, either.
Helen runs into Luke in the hallway: "Hey, honey." He tells her he won't be home for supper, since he's going to study at the library. Helen says he has to eat, and that she'll drive him over after supper. Luke says he can just get something from a vending machine. Helen: "I'll bring you a sandwich." Luke bursts out: "No, Mom! I'll be fine!" A few students stare as Helen stops in the doorway of her classroom. She tells Luke calmly, but with obvious hurt, "That was inappropriate." Luke hangs in the doorway and apologizes. When Helen asks him what's wrong, he claims it's finals. She gently tells him it's not finals, and asks if it's Glynis. He denies this. Helen: "I know you're fifteen and it's embarrassing to talk to your mom…" Luke: "I said I'm sorry." Helen: "No, no, no, it's not…it's not about me." She walks closer to him: "You just…seem like…a jumble of feelings that you don't want to look at. You're a scientist…shouldn't you…examine the things you don't understand?" Professor Frink: "Good tactic." I'd make a mental note, but I already learned that approach to dealing with him about nine years ago.
Luke, obviously uncomfortable, replies, "No, feelings are ephemeral, okay? And, as such, cannot be reliable scientific determinants." Frink beams and gives him a big thumbs-up. He doesn't really mean that -- well, he probably does, but since this was aired on Frink's birthday, I'm not going to give him any grief. But Helen didn't just fall off the Erlenmeyer flask truck: "But they affect behaviour, which in turn, affects perception, which, as Heisenberg taught us, affects reality." Luke: "How do you know about Heisenberg?" Geez, Luke, she's not the village idiot. And Heisenberg's not exactly a state secret. Helen replies softly, "I listen to you." Huh. Who knew? Seems more like everyone in his family tries to tune out the youngest child's droning. Luke seems surprised to hear it, and he relents enough to tell his mother some of what's on his mind: "Glynis and I made sense…you know…and now I've hurt her, and I feel guilty and sad and angry." Helen: "Relationships that work don't always make sense." Big fat word to your mother, Luke. Trust me. I know whereof I recap. Luke snorts a bit and says, "Okay, great. But what am I supposed to do with all these feelings that I know are gonna make me look like a fool?" Helen just looks at him questioningly. Luke continues, as he slips his backpack off, "Mom, I need a logical explanation for why, against all reason…" He produces a beautiful, sparkling egg-shaped piece of celestite (according to a reader), and continues, "I bought this." Helen comes over to look at it and says, "It's beautiful. For Glynis?" Luke: "For Grace." That little squeeing sound is me. I'm all schmoopy here. I love rocks and crystals and geodes. If someone had given me one like that -- amethyst would also be good -- in high school I would have followed him to the ends of the earth, even though I'd more or less stopped collecting rocks by the time I reached adolescence. Hey, I'm easy. Helen looks at her son sympathetically as he grabs his backpack and leaves.
Will arrives at the courtroom where Kevin's working and greets his son: "Didn't think I'd run into you so soon. How do you like it?" Kevin says quietly, "There's so much on the docket other reporters just ignore." Will says it's mostly routine stuff. Kevin doesn't think it should be. Will: "That's why we have youth." He pats Kevin on the arm and walks up to mutter briefly with a couple of lawyerly types. As he leaves again, he winks at his son. Ben Pollack's case is called; he's charged with two felony counts of burglary. He pleads not guilty. His lawyer requests that he be released on his own recognizance pending trial. Kevin shakes his head. The prosecuting attorney has no objections, so they're done. Kevin's sense of justice is clearly affronted.
Grace and Joan are walking in a park, each carrying some coffee. Or maybe tea. Grace asks if she's found a gift yet. Joan answers yes and no and hems and haws until finally Grace says, "That was unclear, even for you." Joan says she found something, but she didn't give it to him. Grace: "Expand…" Joan: "Well, I was looking through his bag…" Grace sips her drink and then says, "Oh, God." As they sit down on a bench, Joan explains she thought if she saw some of his private things, she'd know him better and be able to figure out what he wants. Grace, whose body language is so caring and concerned that I'm almost shocked, asks, "This doesn't end well, does it?" Joan says she found a condom in his bag. Grace: "Ohhh…" Joan: "Yeah." They both chuckle uneasily. Joan says she was looking for hints, to find out what he might really value. Grace: "I guess you found it…?" Joan: "I didn't expect the right gift to be…you know, we haven't talked about…doing…that…" Grace: "I'm thinking that slot cars might not be such a bad idea." Joan: "Grace. What am I supposed to do?" Grace replies gently, "I don't think I can tell you that, Girardi…" Joan looks down. Grace adds, twirling a piece of her hair thoughtfully, "You know, in my Hebrew class, the rabbi talked about giving. He said that the act itself makes you love the person more. The Hebrew word, even, 'to give,' has the same root as 'love.'" Joan listens to this quietly as Grace asks, "Do you love him?" Joan looks kind of sad as she says, "Yeah." Grace just nods slightly. As the scene ends, they sit there on the bench in silence. Wow. Grace sure has changed over time. Also, TV teens need to be apprised of the fact that there are bunches of other things besides "kissing" and the monolith of "vaginal intercourse." Why do so many of them seem so clueless about this? Do I have to draw pictures?
Will and Toni walk through the police station as Will reads from the Arcadia Register: "'Ben Pollack's bail-free release and pending plea bargain are further proof that Arcadia's judicial system is more interested in protecting criminals than their victims.'" They sit down in an office, and Toni says, "I thought he was just doing docket reports like the other guys." Well, I guess you don't know that that paper will print just about anything Kevin feels like writing. This strained credulity when he was sleeping with Rebecca, but now that he's not, it's even less plausible. Will says he was. Toni: "So, getting a feature run. This is a big deal. You must be a proud papa." Will: "Proud? My kid body-slams the entire county judicial system. We'll have to wear armour to the courthouse." Toni says Kevin's a good writer. I don't know that one can tell that from the sentence quoted above. She adds, "The way he spins it even made me think twice." Will points out that Kevin didn't mention that it's Pollack's first offense. Toni points out that he stole five grand in two robberies. Will: "Both on the fourteenth of the month. His child support was due on the fifteenth. The guy's been out of work for a year. He was about to lose his kid. That doesn't mean anything?" Will's phone rings; it's the DA.
Joan's at her locker when Adam steals up behind her and draws her curtain of hair aside to kiss her quickly on the neck. Joan seems sort of nervous, and vaguely surprised, saying, "Oh, it's you!" Like…who else would be kissing you on the neck? He asks where she was; she says she was studying in the library. Adam thought they were meeting on the roof. Joan feigns flakiness, which as you can imagine, isn't a huge effort for her: "What? Oh, I'm such a tube sock. I'm sorry." Ha! "Tube sock." Must remember that one. She suggests meeting later. Adam says he has to pick up some stuff for his dad and then go to work: "You know that…" Joan: "Oh, right. Well, it must be finals. Mush brain." Adam looks concerned and asks, "Are you avoiding me, Jane?" She quickly replies, "Of course not! Why -- why would I do that?" He doesn't know. Frink comments that she's a terrible liar. She says they'll meet on the roof tomorrow after study group. He agrees to that pleasantly enough, but quickly turns away, leaving with a hurt look on his face. She calls after him and he stops and turns: "What?" She walks up to him, looking like she's going to tell him she loves him, but she kisses him instead. She tries to smile brightly; Adam can barely return a weak smile.
She turns and walks down the hall, fretting. She notices Cute Guy God -- with new, improved hair -- standing at a locker. You have to love the set/props people: on the top shelf of the locker there's a little globe. Frink: "He's got the whole world in his…locker." There are also a bunch of astronomical images taped up inside the door. Many thanks to LostinSpace, who contributed the following information: they appear to be "false-color image of the Large Magellanic Cloud, just outside our galaxy; almost certainly M51, the Whirlpool Galaxy, outside ours; a diffuse or planetary nebula nearby our solar system, probably M1, the Crab Nebula, or the inside of M42, the Orion Nebula; almost certainly M81, a spiral galaxy; a horizon shot from here on earth of the Aurora Borealis. Thus God's locker has an almost certain combination of earthbound, inside-our-galaxy, and outside-our-galaxy pictures of the heavens." Make of that what you will. Joan: "Great. So you have a locker here now. What do you keep in there? Wrath?" Gonna need a much bigger locker for that, especially if we're talking about Old Testament God. Cute Guy God asks, "So you're going to walk away from him just when you're starting to get close?" Joan says she needs some time to think: "I don't like what you're asking me to do." He says he just asked her to get to know him better. Joan: "I did! It's turning out to be really weird." Cute Guy God: "Intimacy is never easy, Joan." She pleads, "Why are you doing this to me?" He walks off with a Godwave.
Back at the courtroom, Will walks up to Kevin and demands, "You couldn't give me a heads-up?" Kevin: "I didn't think they'd print it, but they thought it was a new take on the system, so…" They did? "Too soft on crime" is a new take on a judicial system? Will ignores Kevin's obvious satisfaction with himself and says, "You killed the guy's plea bargain." Kevin: "What's the problem? It's your collar. I thought you'd be happy." Will wonders why ruining a man's life would make him happy. Kevin thinks what the lawyers agreed to (felony reduced to misdemeanour; one year of probation and no jail time) is a crock and that the perp doesn't deserve to walk. Will: "Oh, so three days in the courthouse and now you know the whole system?" Kevin says he did his research on repeat offenders who got plea bargains. Will: "Then you know that I was part of the deal. It was carefully designed to help the guy and now Pollack is going to jail for two years. And he'll never get custody of his kid again because of your damn article." Kevin falls back on the creaky old "all I did was report the facts" line. Will persists: "His life is a fact. Decent people screw up. It's not so black and white." Now Kevin's mad: "No? I screwed up. I didn't get to make a deal. Where's my deal?" Will: "Well, I'm sorry, but that excuse doesn't work this time!" The judge bangs her gavel and says, "Detective Girardi! I imagine you want to stay on my good side, so shut it." She calls the case, and Will gets up and walks around behind Kevin's wheelchair. He grabs the back of it and starts pushing Kevin outside.
Kevin asks angrily: "Hey! What the hell are you doing?" As the reach the exit, and get outside, Kevin's even madder: "Stop it! Get your hands off my chair!" Kevin tries to pry his father's left hand off the chair. Will stops the chair where Kevin can conveniently watch Pollack being taken away, while his ex-wife and little girl say goodbye to him through a chain-link fence. Pollack, in handcuffs, walks over and kneels in front of his daughter and kisses her hand through the fence. What the hell are the parents thinking, letting their little girl watch this? Kevin watches with consternation as his father says, "This is the part of the story you left out." Kevin swallows hard. I know a lot of viewers feel that what Will did, forcing Kevin outside, was completely inexcusable and unacceptable, and I basically agree. I feel sure that even if Kevin were not in a wheelchair, Will would have tried to do the same thing. Of course, Kevin would have been better able to resist, and obviously stands a good chance of succeeding. Will was being a pretty big jackass in his approach, but I do think it was realistic that something like that could and did occur. In fact, it's starting to become clearer just where Kevin learned the kind of physical violation and aggression he inflicts on others. They both need to learn to keep their hands to themselves, if you ask me.
Grace is following Luke down the hall to his locker, declaring, "I think this whole gift-giving thing is just a merchandising ploy to keep the capitalist machine moving." Luke: "I don't know." Grace: "You got Glynis something? You guys were together, what, three weeks?" Wait -- what is she talking about? How does she know Luke bought anybody anything? Also: Three weeks? Come on, how long is a week on Planet Arcadia? Luke: "I thought about getting her Richard Feynman's lectures on physics, but it just seemed so…" Grace: "Laaaame?" Luke nods: "Yeah." They start walking as he says, "A gift should just happen. Shouldn't it? You know, if you think too much, then…forget it…" He enters a classroom, and she follows. This is one of the big things Grace and Luke do have in common, for those who don't see them as a couple: contempt for forced and ritualized behaviour. Hey, lasting relationships have been founded on less. As the shot changes to the inside of the classroom, Frink and I cheer the Hoberman sphere in the foreground. Because that is the kind of dweebs we are, that's why. Grace tells Luke, "You were getting all poetic there for a moment, Spock." Luke: "No, I just…you know…" Grace: "Actually, no." Luke asks if she's never just walked by something and just felt that someone she knew would absolutely love it. Grace's reply: "Are you interested in somebody else already?" Luke looks discouraged and says he's just having a theoretical discussion. He flips open his book. Grace: "So there is somebody. Guys should be sprayed down with cold water, like, every hour." Luke suggests maybe they should study later, with Joan and Adam: "I mean, they're going to get so far behind." Grace says they knew they were meeting to study: "If their thing is getting so hot that they wanna blow finals…" Luke: "What?" Grace looks guilty: "Well, what?" Luke: "Their thing is hot? How hot?" She tells Luke to take a nap: "I'm not going there." Luke: "I think you just did." Grace: "Okay. This falls under chemistry-study-group-partner confidentiality." Luke agrees. Grace just barely nods, indicating his sister's train of thought. I'm kind of surprised at her; she's usually an advocate of people minding their own business. Luke: "So what do I do?" Grace: "What do you mean?" Luke: "She's my sister." Grace: "I guess you hope that she's smart, and happy." Luke decides it's now or never, I guess, and reaches into his backpack, and pulls out the piece of celestite and holds it out to her slightly, not looking Grace in the eye. She takes it, and for a brief moment it seems like she could well up. Just a moment, though. Grace tries to find words, finally settling on, "Okay, dude, this is just weird." She sets it aside. Luke: "Yeah, I know. I don't care." Well, we've certainly come a long way from the Mr. Browning days. Grace is slightly flustered, and turns to her notes to change the subject. As soon as she mentions 'exchange reactions,' Luke goes into brain mode.
Adam's in his maintenance uniform, with his hair oddly slicked back (let's not have any more of that), vacuuming a very nice hotel room, when Joan appears at the door, dressed in a what looks like a very dark blue and green plaid dress with slightly puffed cap sleeves, a close-fitting bodice, and a slightly full skirt. She looks very pretty and feminine and natural -- and altogether a little too young and unsure. Her hair is long and straight and she's only wearing a smidge of makeup. The light and the colours in the room are very warm and peachy and apricot-y and golden. Adam stops the vacuum cleaner and asks, "Jane, what are you doing here?" Frink: "'I'm living out my fantasy of making it with the chamberman.'" She looks apprehensive, and says nothing as she takes a step into the room and shuts the door behind her. No doubt Adam is as puzzled as ever. Hell, I'm puzzled: she's planning to do this with him -- while he's at work? Hello? He's a high school kid with a janitorial job at some swank hotel -- a position he's held for a week or two, from the sound of things -- and this is the time and place she decides to spring the big moment on him? I don't even know what to say. It's a little flaky, even for Joan. I mean, it would be one thing if they were to sneak into the hotel when he's off-duty. But he's working! His supervisor could come around any minute. If he worked at some fast food place, would she try to nail him at the drive-in window?
After the commercials, Joan comments that she's never been in a hotel room that nice. Adam agrees it's a nice place: "So, did you wanna study or something?" Joan: "I didn't bring any books." Adam, hands in pockets, mystified as ever: "So…?" She walks toward him: "I, uh, I went through your bag…" Adam: "What?" She admits it's "stalker-like and weird" but explains she was just trying to get to know him better. I guess it never occurred to her to just ask some questions, or even better, pay attention. Isn't that what God's been telling her for months? Joan: "I thought if I was able to give you something that meant something…" Adam: "I told you…I mean, I don't need anything." Joan sighs a little: "Yeah, well…" She sits lightly on the bed, and says quietly, "I saw the condom." Adam brows wrinkle together for a moment as he processes what she's saying, and then about twelve expressions pass over his face before he puts his hands over his eyes and says, "Oh God…oh…" He paces a little and tells her they passed them out in health class. He holds his hands apart in a mild, but almost beseeching gesture. Joan: "So you haven't thought about…" She chokes on a little laugh: "Us?" Adam can't suppress a little smile -- almost a smirk, but not that dirty -- when he says, "Well…sure." Joan just looks nervous. Adam walks over to the bed and sits down to her: "Is…is that why you're here?" Frink, exasperated: "Oh, God, you're just not a normal sixteen-year-old guy." Me, forgetting it's his birthday: "Hey! He's sweet!" I'll bet Adam's thinking: "Man, of all the days to be wearing the Iron Maiden underwear…"
Joan says it seems like they're supposed to get closer. But her eyes are all watery and she could hardly be less ready. Adam smiles at her and she slowly leans toward him; they start kissing and Adam holds her face gently in his beautiful hands; Joan lightly strokes his upper arm with both her hands. They only kiss for a few moments before Joan pulls away, in tears. Adam: "Why are you crying?" She says she's just a little afraid: "Are you?" Adam: "Yeah." Joan: "I mean, it's not like we're the first…" Adam: "No, no." Joan: "I'm just not sure, if we do this…what the ripples are going to be." Okay, now I'm welling. Adam's not sure either. They're both quiet for a moment, and then Adam says, somewhat tearfully, "I don't want to lose you." Joan: "Adam…" He explains: "This job…I had to take it early. My dad hurt his back. He can't work." Benefits not so good there at the police station, hmm? At least not for the janitorial staff. Joan says he should have told her. How can they not be discussing these sorts of everyday details of their lives? I don't get it. Also, if she were more attuned to other people, she might have noticed that Adam said earlier that he had to pick up some stuff for his dad. She could have asked what that was, out of casual interest. If it were none of her business, or Adam didn't want to say, he could have been evasive. But maybe the answer would have been, "Prescriptions for painkillers." Adam wonders what difference it would have made to tell her. Joan says he shouldn't have to go through it alone: "He's going to get better, right?" Adam stands up and thinks, and sniffles. Eventually he says, "I guess. It just always seems that there's something that gets in the way of what you hope for." Joan insists that's not true. Adam, still crying softly: "My mom dies. My dad gets sick. I fall in love with you." Joan naturally wonders how the last one is bad. Adam: "Are you gonna stay with me if this is what my life becomes?" He prods the rug shampooing machine with his foot, finally giving it a kick. "Running…this thing…for the rest of my life?" She asks if that's why his sketchbook is empty. He continues, "Before I met you, I was barely getting through school." Joan says everyone goes through rough times. Adam: "I'm not some struggling artist in Paris -- I'm a sixteen-year-old kid in Arcadia who has to work to buy his dad pills." Well, maybe if you work really hard and get good grades, someday you too can be a struggling artist in Paris. Joan: "Adam, you believed in yourself." He dismisses that: "No, you believed in me." At least when she wasn't destroying his best work. He sits down to her again, saying, "That felt good." She touches his shoulder softly as he adds, "But I need something more now. I need something real, something I can hold in my hand." Joan: "Anything -- I'll give you anything you need." He looks at her and they kiss again. He says he has to get back to work. He gets up and leaves her there, wondering how to help him, what to give him.
Kevin's out in the garage sanding the hull of The Boat. The Boat! I imagine this boat might take the life of the series to build. Will comes into the garage and attempts to start a conversation by saying he thought he saw a light on. Kevin keeps sanding and says nothing. Will: "Luke said you went out." Kevin: "I did. I just didn't get very far." Will says he probably should have handled things differently today. Kevin: "Yeah, you made your point. I ruined two people's lives. Case closed." He wheels over to the workbench to get a screwdriver, but it's just a little bit out of his reach. There's really no good reason for those screwdriver holders to be placed so high on the pegboard; there's as least a foot of open space below them where they could be relocated and be more accessible to him. Will gets the screwdriver for him and says it's not that simple, and that that's the whole point: "Think about…the way people look at you on the street. I see it. They make a decision about your life. Is that fair? They don't know who you are, what you're capable of, what you mean to people." Kevin doesn't say anything as he struggles to tighten a screw, and Will starts to walk away, figuring this isn't going anywhere. Kevin suddenly asks him to take a look at the joint he's working on. Will looks at it and says it needs sanding. As he grabs some sandpaper, he asks Kevin when he thinks they'll get it into the water. Kevin: "Hull's been here too long. It's getting all warped." Will: "Ah, I wouldn't give up on it just yet." They work on it together in silence.
Joan walks through the lobby as she leaves the hotel, running into KittyGod --literally. KittyGod: "So you know what to give him." Joan's pissed: "Do you know what I was planning on doing when I went up there?" KittyGod calmly reminds her, "I know everything." Joan: "Then how could you let it go that far? I'm sure you've seen the latest polls on teenage sex." KittyGod: "You're always faced with difficult decisions. I can't make your choices for you. I'm really committed to the free will thing." Could you remind some of your disciples, please? Joan says evenly, "That's a cop-out, if you ask me." She walks past KittyGod, who points out that if Joan hadn't gone in there, she wouldn't have found out what Adam needs. Joan replies, "Adam needs to have faith in himself. That's your department, isn't it?" KittyGod tells her, "No. It's yours. Faith is believing when there's no rational reason to believe. Like your seeing me…who would believe that's rational? Yet you know that it's true. You're the one who has faith, Joan. Find a way to give a little to Adam." KittyGod strides off.
Will looks out the living room window just before Joan comes in: "Hey, you guys are here! Good." She makes a beeline for some books. Helen's on the couch: "Yes, um…we're wondering where you've been. You didn't call." Joan says she was with Adam, and starts asking for the name of some French artist as she flips through a big art book. Will says they tried her cell phone. Joan says she turned it off. Helen wants to know why. She says she didn't want to be disturbed. Will says they called Adam's house, and his dad told them Adam was at work: "At some…hotel?" As Joan keeps wandering around looking through books, they pull the story out of her. She says they were studying. Helen: "You were with Adam…at a hotel?" Will wants to know where in the hotel. Joan, absently: "In a room. Mom, I really need to know about this French artist." Helen and Will have exchanged concerned glances. Will: "You were alone in a hotel room with Adam?" Joan, with a dollop of "duh" in her tone: "He was shampooing the rug." Will and Helen look at each other, wondering if this is some new euphemism they haven't yet heard. Joan: "This artist, he had no money…he somehow made it to Paris and then became really successful…" Helen: "So I thought -- I thought you were studying…" Will: "You don't have any school books." Nothing gets past Detective Girardi. Except, you know, his wife's and son's deepest needs. "So what were you doing in a hotel room with Adam and no books?"
Joan looks at their questioning faces and finally twigs to her parents' concern. She closes the book she's looking and asks, "Do we really have to go there?" Will: "We're already there." Joan, indignantly, "Do you really think --" Helen: "What do you think we think?" Will: "Of course we think! What would you think?" Joan: "Is this a real conversation, or an Abbott and Costello routine?" Frink: "How does she know about Abbott and Costello?" Good question. I can only assume she's had some old black and white comedy forced on her by good old Dad. Or maybe, as some readers suggested, she picked it up from a mention on Seinfeld. Will tells her to answer the question; she starts to talk, and Will interjects: "No. Wait. Don't." He paces around, and Helen tells them to take a breath and sit down. Joan does, Will doesn't. Helen begins, "Look, honey, we know you and Adam are close, right?" Joan: "Yes." She clears her throat excessively and looks down. "I -- I love him." Helen looks more surprised than I would have thought; Will takes a step or two forward and asks, "You love him?" Joan confirms this. Helen points out they were alone together in a hotel room: "And you love him." Will: "And he was shampooing the rug." It's not a euphemism, Will. Chill. He adds, "I'm a cop, Joan. This is when I start reading you your rights." Helen suggests she should talk to Joan alone. He gets up to leave, and leans down: "Remember when I took you on a pony ride?" Helen, with exasperation: "Will." Will: "Okay. I'll be upstairs if you need me." Frink: "'Cleaning and polishing my gun.'"
Joan: "Mom, I really need to know who this artist was…" Helen thinks they should first deal with what happened tonight. Joan says she's trying to. Helen: "Good. Because…when two people…have feelings for one another, there are natural impulses…" Joan: "Mom…" Helen: "Let me finish!" Joan: "No! Because you're going to start crying and quoting songs." Helen looks like she can't argue with that. Joan sighs: "I did not have sex with Adam." Helen: "Are you sure?" Joan: "Yes! I took health class. I'm pretty sure. I mean…I thought about it…" That wipes the look of relief right off her mother's face: "You did?" Joan says she was going to, but then she realized that she was really only meant to find out what Adam needed from her. Helen: "And it wasn't sex?" Joan: "No." Helen: "Adam is such a nice boy." Hee. She delivers the line perfectly. Joan says he's going through a lot right now: "Which is why I have to know who this French guy was!" Helen says she's going to have to narrow it down to more than "French guy." Joan: "Poor artist, Paris, sculptor…" Helen: "Rodin." Joan: "You mean The Thinker guy, right?" Helen confirms it. Joan's very happy: "Thank you. That's all I needed." Helen's confused: "Wait, wait, that's it? If you'd…asked me that earlier…you wouldn't have thought about having sex?" Joan thinks for a moment: "Oh. No." She laughs. "That still would have happened. Thanks, Mom!" She takes off. Helen looks tired.
Helen makes her way upstairs to where Will's sitting hunched forward on the end of the bed with his chin resting on his fists -- vaguely Thinker-like. Heh. When he sees her, he asks, "Who won?" She tells him, "We did. She thought about it but she didn't sleep with him." Will: "And we believe that?" Helen wonders what choice they have. Will says they could tell her she's not allowed to see him anymore. Helen: "Ah, the West Side Story strategy. Yeah, that always turns out great." Will: "Well, she thought about it. Aren't we supposed to do something?" Helen: "We've already done it." Will: "What was that, exactly?" Helen: "Been her parents." Will, skeptically: "So basically, you're saying we go on faith that we've raised her right?" Helen: "Yeah." Will says she's asking an awful lot. She smiles and puts her arm around him. Will looks pretty unsettled about this alleged resolution.
Adam's on the roof, waiting for Joan. She arrives, wearing flats, black capris, and a pinkish-red cardigan over a blouse with a white and pinkish-red print. Adam says he thought she wasn't gonna make it again. She says, as she sits to him, "I was finishing this…for you." She hands him a framed black and white picture and tells him it's Rodin. There's also a woman in the picture. I don't think that's a real picture, is it? Or even a reproduction thereof? In the first glimpse we see of it, it kind of makes me think of Adam Goldberg and Amber Tamblyn at a costume party. She tells Adam, "He was a sculptor, like you. He had to support his family by being a bricklayer. And this is his, um, his girlfriend, Rose." You know, between the fact that Adam Rove and August Rodin share initials (along with a few other characteristics), and the whole Adam/Joan/Iris thing (though it doesn't exactly parallel the Auguste Rodin/Rose Beuret/Camille Claudel thing), I'm starting to think these things aren't exactly coincidences. She smiles at Adam, who doesn't seem to know what to make of this gift. Joan adds, "His house in Paris is a museum now. It's filled with all the stuff that he made." Adam says softly with watery eyes, "I'm not Rodin, Jane." Joan replies, "No…you're Adam Rove." I can't help but hear Dustin Hoffman saying "You are Lisa Simpson." Sorry, I know: back to the schmoop. She continues, "And you have what you asked for: something real you can hold in your hands. And it doesn't have to make sense, you know? We don't." Adam's pretty much speechless. Joan: "That doesn't mean it's not real." Joan looks incredibly angelic, as she sometimes can.
He puts his arm around her and they both look at the picture, as the camera zooms in on it. "Hold me close and hold me fast / The magic spell you cast / This is la vie en rose…" Suddenly Auguste and Rose morph into Adam and Joan in the period outfits -- Joan's in an off-the-shoulder dress with wavy hair and a yooge pink flower in her hair; Adam's in a vest and shirt -- and the still photo becomes live footage. Cyndi Lauper sings her cover of "La Vie en Rose." I like Cyndi Lauper a lot, but I'm not crazy about this song. However, such is the power of this show that I now like it a little better. We see Adam sketching Joan at a table in a café while people eat and drink and dance and laugh around them. He shows her the sketch and she smiles and giggles a bit, admiring his work. Hmm. As a career opportunity for women, I think "model/muse" kind of sucks. (Quick: Name five famous female artists and their male models/muses. Yeah, I thought so.) "When you kiss me heaven sighs / And though I close my eyes / I see la vie en rose." Then Adam and Joan look at the camera and they morph back into Auguste and Rose, and the camera draws away again.
We see Adam looking kind of troubled, and Joan looking completely blissful and calm for a change. "When you press me to your heart / I'm in a world apart / A world where roses bloom / And when you speak, angels sing from above…" Joan leans toward Adam, and they start kissing. Man, it's a good thing Mr. Price is busy infecting Los Angeles with the plague, because why else wouldn't he have discovered this little makeout hideaway in the sky? "Everyday words seem to turn into love songs / Give your heart and soul to me / And life will always be la vie en rose." There's something about the way Joan positions her body -- especially her legs -- that is ever so suggestive of Rodin's famous sculpture, The Kiss, without being an imitation of it. Nice. I really wasn't sure about the whole photo morphing thing the first time I watched it -- and I'm still not, even though I guess I liked it better the second time around. I just don't think it totally worked -- it was more Velveeta than brie -- and the suggestion of Joan as primarily model/muse to Adam kinda creeps me out. But I like that the show tries to take some risks, creative or otherwise, even if they don't all work out perfectly. That's what God's been making Joan do all year, isn't it?