"Bought ya some socks while I was at Target the other day."

A six-pack of Hanes white lands in Adam's lap and he looks up at the figure standing in the doorway. He wonders if Jay has ever knocked before entering the house.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not a giver," Adam says.

"I got tired of seeing your big, gnarly, hair-toes sticking out of the ones you already have."

"You're so attentive; surely, Denise is still fawning over such a catch."

Jay sits down and, with a single sigh, burns all of the good nature out of the room. "I asked her again."

Adam looks up, immediately shifting into "support-mode". He leans anxiously toward Jay. "And?"

"And… she said she's still not ready to lose the modeling career to baby hips."

They both sit back in their chairs with a collective sigh of defeat. Adam looks at his forlorn companion and wants to go over to him, to squeeze his shoulder in comfort. Instead he shifts his eyes to the floor, falling into the world of possibilities that had never been. "We would've adopted," he says softly.

Jay looks up for a moment, gazing at Adam, before nodding sadly and joining into Adam's thoughts.