Joan carries a box full of Adam's gifts and gewgaws toward his locker, bracing herself for the confrontation. She walks up to him and says, "Here." He glances down: "What's that?" She says it's his stuff, and she thought he'd want it back. She tries to look at him but keeps looking away. Adam asks, "Why?" Joan tries to sound bright: "Spring cleaning. It's therapeutic." He says softly, "But I made all that for you." Joan clears her throat: "Yeah, right, but it's yours, you know, it's your art. I thought you'd want to give it to someone else." Adam looks away, mildly hurt. Joan: "Not like another girl but, you know maybe for a gallery in the future or something." He finally takes it with slight reluctance, and Joan says, "See you around," before walking away slowly. Adam finally turns around and stares down the hall after her. What the heck is he supposed to do with all that all day? It's not going to fit in his locker. Me, I would have brought it over to his shed, dumped gasoline on it, turned on his welding torch, and thrown it in the box. Or something equally hostile but less likely to involve fire departments and insurance companies. I mean, I admire her for trying to be calm and mature and all that, but I am so not buying it from Miss Drama Queen. There isn't nearly enough bitterness and vituperation here, if you ask me.
Commercials. The first one is a network blurb for Grey's Anatomy but I'm half- falling asleep here, since I've been awake since 3:30 AM, and what I hear is "Grace n' Adamy." And I'm all what? Then I gather just enough consciousness to sort it out. Frink and I marvel about the latest herpes commercial, and then I get to wondering why I seem to see so many herpes commercials during Joan of Arcadia. I don't see that many during other shows I watch regularly (24, American Idol, Desperate Housewives, Lost) so what gives? Do they know something about the demographic for this show that I don't?
Helen comes into the police station unexpectedly -- wait! Come back! There's no police plot! It's just a Will and Helen thing. Will's nervous when he sees her anxious face and asks, "Oh my God, what is it?" She says it's Kevin. He steers her into his office and asks, "Is he okay? What happened?" She says that, inspired by Joan, she decided to clean Kevin's room as a little surprise to him. I know children of all ages, especially the ones old enough to drink, love it when Mommy cleans their rooms. She says, "I found this." She hands Will a classified ad section with some ads circled in red. Will: "I don't get it." She spells it out: "Those are ads for single bedroom apartments circled in red." Will, still perplexed: "Help me, I'm a man." Frink finds that very amusing. Helen spells it out even more: "Kevin's looking for an apartment." Will: "Right " Helen: "He's thinking about moving out." Will thinks that's good. Helen, unable to keep the hysterical edge out of her voice: "Good?" Will thinks it means Kevin's feeling more independent. Helen finally cuts to the heart of her anxiety: "It's about sex." Will, puzzled as ever: "He's twenty-one." Helen: "With Lily. The ex-nun." Will: "Well, I've seen Lily, and while I didn't quite care for her attitude, I can't blame the guy. She's pretty hot." No, I kid. He just kind of squints at Helen -- or this harpy who's occupying her body -- as she explains that Kevin's getting an apartment so he can be with her in the apartment. She all but adds, "So he can know her in the Biblical sense." Will doesn't know what to say. Helen: "Well, he can't be on his own, Will!" He stands up: "Honey, did you really think he was going to be with us forever? And is that really what you want?" She barks, "Forget it!" and rushes out. He makes a half-hearted attempt to call after her. Let her go, Will.