Chapter One

I knew the news was bad the moment I stepped into the Doctor Green's office. The look on his face, his fingers threaded together in front of him, the air of regret that seeped from him like bad smelling cologne. I'm dying. My life hangs in the balance. Without treatment I will die and with treatment I will probably still die. Not knowing how to tell anyone, I left the office and proceeded to walk around. Dr Green told me to skip the rest of my shift and to take some time, go hang with my family and friends. He's a good guy, good to work with, but all I feel like doing right now is crawling under a rock. I would have felt sorry for the guy - it's no secret he likes me and telling me the news can't of been easy - but the truth is I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself. In fact he looked downright distressed. Anyway, I begin to walk around, heading off hospital grounds where I might meet someone I know. Such a cliche but what's a fun loving guy like me supposed to do? Tell the father that won't care, well maybe he'll care - that's a little harsh, but he won't care much. I could tell my mom, but where would that get me? She'd be tired, tired of the news the minute it was received. The obvious candidate is Andie. Why wouldn't I tell Andie? Except for the fact that I finally grew tired of her manipulation, of her ill disguised cheating, her faux pep and broke off our relationship. That of course leaves my brother and sisters. Why don't I tell them? I guess it just blows to tell people you love that you're messing up their lives by fucking dying. So I do the mature thing and walk around a bit, in denial and all, before buying some motorbike on a total whim, heading back to my half empty apartment and packing a bag, my small tent, sleeping bag and roll mat, and heading west. Isn't that the appropriate response of any twenty seven year old man who's told he's dying?

The roads are pretty windy to begin, but they straighten out somewhere after Pittsburgh so I move off the main highways and start to take the roads less travelled. I spend the night anywhere that takes my fancy. Sometimes a fancy hotel, a motel, or I camp - in my tent if I'm inclined to pitch it, but more often than not under the stars with the mosquito's, black flies and crickets for company. I'm pretty thankful for my iPhone and it's patchy reception because I do get lost. Taking the small roads will do that to a person. I'm struck by a lot as I travel, most of all my own mortality. I am lonely. I can go days without conversation, but I revel in my aloneness, in my macabre thoughts, in dwelling on my inevitable demise be it from the cancer in my blood, or old age, or being thrown from my bike. I find twisted humour in my thoughts, in my darkest moments I hope Andie will be sorry when I'm gone, but in the moments when I remind me of myself, I'm usually just filled with sorrow that the life I love will soon be gone. It's all a bit too much and it takes many days, many photographs, many towns and homesteads before the tears eventually come. I'm on a small windy road in Colorado, heading, yet again on a whim, towards the town Jack, my best buddy from med school, lives and doctors in. I saw the name from the highway and off I went. It is quite simply beautiful, with kt's rugged mountains, twisty roads and beautiful river. I'm not expecting it but suddenly I start to cry, embarrassing loud sobs, sobs that wrack my body and make my heart hurt. I realize I've lost control when the bike wobbles, and I have a moment of utter sorrow before the world goes black.

When I wake up my head hurts. In fact it is pounding ferociously and I feel a little sick. It takes me a few moments to remember what happened, but eventually I regain the memory of my pity fest, my loud sobs and my eventual fall from my bike in a place beautiful enough to resemble heaven on earth. I'm a total sucker for mountains, rivers and lakes, isolation in all it's glory, and the place where I fell had everything, even Jack nearby if my memory is to be believed. I guess that if I have to die, dying somewhere like that is preferable to a hospital bed. I imagine it will be a hospital bed though.

I am not in a hospital bed but I am in a bed. The room is dark, though I can sense sun behind the drawn Venetian blind. The room is white and the bed is wooden. A nice oak bed which is big and made up with white linen that smells freshly laundered. The bed is comfortable with a firm mattress, and the covers are bouncy and just the right thickness for the cool of the room. The bed, is in fact perfect. Though the room is as white as the sheets it's not cold. A big mirror with a metal frame adorns one wall. I'm not an expert but it looks like a piece of art, the metal forming something of a foliage border, making it resemble the close branches in a forest of deciduous trees. There is a plain white dresser but the knobs on the drawers are made out of glass, each one a unique rainbow. There is a chunk of wood on top, beautiful and intricate in a manner that only nature is a true master of. From the ceiling hangs a mobile of rainbow pieces, glass in all sorts of colours, whilst an oak rocking chair sits in the corner with a patchwork quilt on it, again beautiful in it's bright rainbow colours, the design warming to my soul. I love the room at once. Everything about it, the details increasing as I look, a natural rug on the floor, a fireplace made from large wooden beams, an old metal jug with fresh flowers in the hearth. It looks almost too perfect, except it isn't. An old dressing gown hangs on the hook on the back of the door, and there's an old mug on the dresser, that looks like it was recently discarded as steam is rising from it. I think about getting out of bed, but before I can muster any true inclination the door opens and a girl appears. At her appearance I consider I may actually be dead because she resembles a goddess in some unearthly way. If her room is beautiful, she is many times more stunning. Her dark hair is swept into a messy bun and she's wearing leggings and a tank top, nothing fancy, but it shows off her slim body and her long legs perfectly. Her skin is tanned dark though it's only spring and it looks as smooth as silk. Her eyes are impossibly large, with long lashes, and though I can't see the colour properly, I think they are hazel.

'You're awake,' she states in a sweet, melodious voice. She sounds relieved. 'I thought that maybe I should take you to the hospital but it's several hours away. I called the doctor from the road and he said to bring you back here. He should be here soon, though he told me how to check your vitals and we decided you were probably just knocked unconscious,' she bites her bottom lip and it's adorable, and unbelievably sexy.

'You found me?' I croak and she springs across the room. I notice she has a glass of water in her hand and she holds it out. I hold it and take a long drink. 'Thanks.'

'I found you about a mile down the road. I was on my way back from town. I considered driving you there but here is nearer.'

'Thanks I guess.'

'You guess?' Her eyes widen and she looks taken aback. I can't help but smile because again, she looks divine.

'Yeah, I mean for not just dumping me in town. For bringing home a strange man,' I frown, 'You didn't want to just dump me in town?'

'Well town is a good hour away and I know enough first aid to know you weren't badly injured,' she sounds defensive. 'I put you into recovery and you came round. We had a conversation about heaven. Doc and I believe it's a concussion but he'll be here soon to check. He set out immediately. He suggested I bring you here,' she reiterates this.

'Thank you, really,' I say with utter sincerity, 'I am truly thankful.' She seems to relax a little but is still slightly ill at ease.

'Your bike ended up in the river. I'll get it for you after the doctors been. It looked a little smashed.'

'Oh,' I don't really know what to say. I'm in the middle of nowhere but it's beautiful. The room I'm in is beautiful. The strange girl who found me is beyond beautiful. I can't find it in me to care about my bike.

'You feel ok?' she presses her palm to my forehead. It's cool and soft. I want her to leave it there forever but she pulls it away, and takes my wrist, looking at her watch to take my pulse. 'You think you're going to be sick?'

'I'm ok. My head hurts like a bitch, and I feel a little sick, but no I don't think I'll be sick. It's probably just a concussion.'

'I'll get you a bowl in case,' she says and moves across the room, the door hanging open in her wake. I get a glimpse of wooden floors, a beautiful oak kitchen, a small couch and in the distance a small round table with an eclectic mix of chairs around is and another bunch of fresh flowers. She's back in moments with a metal bowl which she places on the stool beside the bed.

'Thanks, I'll aim well,' I say and she smiles, a more genuine smile that makes her whole face light up.

'Hopefully you'll aim for the bowl better than you aim for the road. It looked like you rode right off the edge,' she's teasing but there's a hint of a question.

'I'm pretty sure I did,' I admit deciding that there is no point to secrets with this girl. Whomever she is, this meeting is inevitably fleeting. A small frown appears between her perfectly arched brows.

'You drove off on purpose?' She asks, but she doesn't seem to quite believe it which I appreciate. A chuckle escapes me,

'No, not on purpose,' I say, 'I kind of had a moment,' I admit.

'A moment?' she sits in the end of the bed, her hand absentmindedly landing on my leg. It feels insanely intimate, though I know she doesn't even realize. She's staring at me intently and those eyes are staring into mine. It makes my heart hammer something crazy. They are hazel, but less green and more grey. I could drown in those eyes, whatever that really means. I think it means that I could spend a lifetime looking into them.

'I'm dying,' I admit it, saying the words out loud for the first time since hearing the news. The words get sort of trapped in my throat, even admitting it to this girl, this stranger. She stares at me for a long time, so long that I speak more, 'I have cancer,' I add, but she just continues to stare at me, her eyes soft.

'As far as I can tell,' she says at length, 'you're doing more living than dying just now,' she leans forward unexpectedly and puts a hand on my cheek but says no more. Her words touch me somewhere deep inside and I'm not even sure why. I guess I've been so worried about sharing my news with anyone, especially those close to me, in part because I felt certain it would change how they see me, that they won't see me as jovial, happy go lucky Pacey any more, but will only see me as the disease. This girl seems to see through all that fear and get to the crux of it - I'm living, not dying. In fact I'll be living until I'm dead.

'I'm Pacey,' I say with a smile and she smiles back. I put my hand on top of hers and we shake hands.

'I'm Joey,' she says taking her hand back.

'Is this beautiful place yours?' I ask, because she seems to young to live in a place like this, especially without any parents.

'Yes,' she nods.

'I love every single thing about it,' I say sincerely and she smiles brightly. She is utterly divine and I realize I'm well on my way to smitten.

'It's exactly as I want it,' she says.

'Where is it?' I ask and she laughs softly.

'In the middle of nowhere. The nearest town is an hour away and it's a pretty small town - diner, store, gas station, doctor, dentist and a few hundred residents.'

'You grow up here?' I ask and she nods, a slight bob of her head.

'In town,' she clarifies.

'So your family are here?' I ask and she tilts her head to one side smirking slightly.

'Where are you from?' She asks instead of answering.

'Massachusetts. I was raised in a suburb of Boston called Capeside.'

'You still live there?' She asks.

'Well no, in Boston ...until I got the cancer news that is. I acted really mature with that news.'

'You bought a bike and headed west?' she smirks again with an arched brow.

'I bought a bike and headed west,' I laugh and so does she.

'What did you do in Boston? You go to college?'

'I'm a little older than college actually. I'm a doctor in the hospital - I generally work with cancer patients,' I frown with a hint of a smile and she smiles back.

'No wonder you kept self diagnosing a concussion yesterday. You weren't very professional though, you kept putting my hand on your heart.'

'A little scared of my own mortality at present,' I admit and she smiles.

'You always want to be a doctor?'

'No,' I smile, 'I actually wanted to be a chef. I love to cook, but my girlfriend at the time was a little pushy and I ended up in med school. I love being a doctor so I guess it's good. I still cook whenever I can.'

'You do,' she seems oddly thrilled. Usually girls are more thrilled by the doctor thing. 'And you're a good cook?' she asks and I nod. She smiles. 'Maybe you can cook me a meal before you head off,' she suggests and I love the idea of doing anything for her, 'I loathe to cook, mainly because I am just terrible at it, so I pretty much live off salad and veggies boiled to within an inch of their lives. I can grow stuff but I seem incapable of making it into anything tasty.'

'I would absolutely love to cook for you,' I say sincerely.

'I'll hold you to that,' she says and moves to the window when she hears an engine. She peers through the Venetian blind and looks at me, 'docs here,' she says with a smile and heads out of the room. I am instantly disappointed that the doctor is going to intrude in our time together, because once that doc says I'm fine, well I have to go. I hear voices. Joey is talking to the doctor. They are in fact laughing, and the conversation sounds like they are familiar with one another as more than doctor and patient. In fact the doctor sounds familiar, especially as I only saw him a few weeks ago when he was in Boston on a conference. He enters the room with a bag in one hand and an arm slung across Joey's shoulder.

'Jack this is Pacey. Pacey this is Doctor Jack McPhee.'

'Pace,' Jack practically screeches.

'Jackers,' I say, unable to bite back the huge grin that adorns my face. There's a reason Jack is my best friend.

'What the hell Pace. You stupid man - a motorbike?' He nudges my shoulder with his fist.

'A moment of insanity,' I say and Jack grins.

'At least Jo found you,' he says.

'You guys know each other?' Joey asks from the doorway, a faint smile.

'This is my best friend Pacey, the guy I talk about all the time,' Jack looks over his shoulder at her.

'Of course. I should have put it together, I guess I was focused on the whole thrown from his bike thing. The infamous Pacey,' she smiles at me.

'So good to see you man, but lets get the doctor stuff out the way.' Jack says as a Joey leaves the room. 'How you feeling?'

'I've got a killer headache and I'm a little nauseous, but it's not so bad.'

'So you came off this bike of yours?' he asks and I want to roll my eyes because he's so Jack, but he needs to check me over properly. He's here professionally right now and it must be weird to see your best friend when you were expecting a total stranger.

'Yeah.'

'Helmet?' He asks and I nod.

'Joey said you landed in the grass but seemed to have hit your head?'

'I guess.'

'Nothing else hurts?'

'No,' I say mentally assessing myself.

'Do you know what caused the crash?' he asks sitting on the bed where Joey sat.

'I got a little...emotional,' I admit and to his credit Jack waits for me to continue. I decide that I will share the news with him. I don't think Joey would tell him but this is Jack. If there's anyone I could imagine telling it was Jack. 'I was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks back,' I say and give him the awful details. He nods but seems not to be judging, though his eyes look a little glassy. When he takes my hand I don't anything about it. It's nice to have this moment of comfort.

'You having any treatment? Had any?' he asks releasing my hand and looking at me closely.

'No,' I admit and he nods, again with a neutral expression. I'm waiting for the lecture but it never comes. Probably why I love Jack.

'I'll do some blood work if you want?'

'No lecture?' I ask and he managed to smile,

'I don't think you need a lecture,' he says rather simply. 'It is, quite simply, your life! And you know everything I would say in a lecture. We were in classes together. We did it all together. You don't need a lecture.'

'Thanks,' I say and he smiles at me. I mean the thanks. It is good to see Jack. Suddenly the news feels almost bearable.

'Ok, let's check you over and you can think on whether you want the bloods done or not.'

'Would you recommend it?'

'You know I would. But then again you know I'm an err on the side of caution kind of doctor.'

'I don't know when I'm leaving.'

'I'd rather you stay here for a few days obviously. I would say come and stay with me in town but I'm not as well set up as Joey. I'll speak to her but she'll be more than happy for you to stay.'

'A few days?' I ask and he smiles again,

'Lets say five days. That's enough time for you to recover from what looks to be a concussion, and for me to do some blood work. Besides which - Joey's pretty cool and we can hang out.'

'Didn't you date a girl in high school? Was it Joey?' I ask and he begins to laugh.

'Yeah actually - for about five minutes just after high school actually, before I admitted I'm gay,' he laughs and I find myself grinning. She was the girl who was so cool to him when he came out. My insane delight over all these things is ridiculous because of course Joey is a stranger, I am in her house because I came off my bike, and I came off my bike because I have cancer. I have a fucked up brain sometimes, but at the moment that brain is saturated by this girl who I met an hour ago. I consider myself vulnerable.

'She really wont mind?' I ask and Jack chuckles,

'Naw, and she could do with the company. We catch up a couple of times a week but she's alone a lot,' he shrugs but doesn't say more, just pulls out a syringe and wraps a tourniquet around the top of my arm. 'Joey could do with some of your cooking.'

'Yeah,' I say catching his eyes and he gives me a knowing look. Apparently it's obvious I think his friend is gorgeous.

'Call me tomorrow and I'll bring some ingredients over. Have a nose in her cupboards but there's nothing there except what I put in there, which is basic at best. I'm coming over tomorrow night with Jen, a friend of ours, so I can bring stuff and maybe we can have a decent meal for once.'

'Sounds good,' I attempt a smile, but Jack's taking the blood to check on my cancer. I don't really feel like smiling.

'Maybe you could give Jo a lesson or two. She could do with a few pointers,' he smiles again, the same open smile he entered the room with, the one that made us instant friends.

'She said she doesn't like to cook,' I say.

'No,' he shakes his head and laughs, 'she used to love cooking but somehow she's terrible at it. Just awful. She got dispirited. I don't actually know how someone can make nice ingredients taste so bad.'

'Some people just seem to do that. In all honesty I don't know how I manage to make things taste so good.' He laughs and in my head he merges from Dr McPhee to Jack, my college buddy and back and forth in rapid suggestion. It occurs to me that Dougy would fall in love with Jack in moments and I wonder why I never introduced them. Or at least, I feel Dougy would be as heart slammingly taken with him as I am with his brown haired friend,

'You rest Pacey, the bathroom is off the hall. Try and stay in bed other than that. Get a good nights sleep and call me in the morning,' he pats my shoulder.

'Ok,' I nod, 'and thanks.'

'Any time,' he grins and moves to the door. 'All done Jo,' he shouts and I'm once again stupidly jealous, of what I'm not even sure - perhaps just their easy familiarity, after all Jack is gay.

'What do you think Jackers?' She leans an arm on his shoulder but smiles at me.

'Just a concussion, a little worse than mild but nothing too bad. I've asked him to stay here for five days just to recover,' he says it so casually. 'I promise he's a good guy.'

'Obviously,' she states and 'sure he can stay,' she shrugs easily. 'You going to stay for a drink?' she looks at Jack.

'You could talk me into a nice cold lemonade but we need to let Pace rest,' he shoots me a look which speaks of his devastation. He quickly pulls it together.

'You can sleep here?' Joey offers to Jack and I wonder how late it is.

'What time is it?' I ask,

'Eight thirty,' Joey says. 'We'll let you sleep. I'll put a jug of water in here and get Jack to make you something to eat before he goes,' she smirks at Jack who elbows her in the ribs. They leave my room chatting easily about something to do with food, I can't be sure because they're speaking in soft voices. I rub my face with my hands. I imagine Jack will talk to Joey about me, about my illness. I know he'll be strong for me but he won't like the news. I imagine Joey will listen. It is stupid for me to think about to girl. I have cancer. Despite Joey's nice play on words I am actually dying. Or rather living with a disease that will probably kill me, or at least wreck me whilst trying to kill me.

I know I'm emotional. I know she's just some girl who happened to find me and haul me back to her her home to look after me. Just some girl. She is just some girl who is insanely beautiful and more than a little intriguing, and the girl Jack's known his whole life. I have known many beautiful girls, and many interesting and intriguing ones. Though it feels like she's something special that's probably just my heightened emotional state talking. Still, I'm waiting, keeping my heavy eyes open, just so I can see her when she delivers my jug of water. I smile as she pushes open the door and puts a jug of water on the beside table, a ceramic coaster underneath - of course artsy and lovely. She then hands me two thick slices of brown toast and butter.

'Jack said to keep it simple,' she says by way of explanation.

'Thank you. And thanks for letting me stay,' I add wondering how old she actually is.

'You were unconscious on the side of the road,' she says with a roll of her eyes, 'I couldn't just leave you there!'

'You could have just called for an ambulance. No one would have blamed you."

'Average wait for an ambulance out here is a long time. I knew Jack would be quicker, and probably better,' she shrugs.

'Well thanks,' I can't stop thanking her.

'Enough with the thanks, just don't murder me in my sleep.'

'Wouldn't dream of it,' I laugh, 'I'd probably drop the axe on my toe... You know I have a concussion!' I say it and she laughs. I love it that she laughs, the way she just seems to relax. The rest of the time it's like she's controlling herself, being careful.

'Sleep well Pacey and I'll see you in the morning. If I'm out when you wake up please just make yourself at home.'

'Ok,' I stare at her. Apparently a concussion makes me unsubtle and gooey eyed. 'Thanks again.'

'Stop saying thanks or I'll go get the axe. You're very welcome,' she rolls her eyes, sort of self-deprecating, like she can't take the thanks, the appreciation.

'Then sleep well.'

After eating the toast, I fall asleep without even taking a trip to the bathroom. When I finally open my eyes the light in the room is different - less warm. I get the sense that it's morning and I really need the bathroom. I stumble into the hall getting a clearer view of the rest of the house, but right now all I can think about is my need to pee, so I push open the first door I see. It's an office. The desk is large and more cluttered than anywhere else I've seen. There is a laptop on the desk but the screen is dark. A mobile hangs in the window catching the sunlight as the blind is pulled up. It's plain and simple, and of course perfect. Stumbling back into the hall I push open the second door and thank god it's a bathroom. Warm floor tiles, simple white suite, a mirror and a window sill of cacti. I pee and wash my hands before heading back to the bedroom. I could really use a shower and a change of clothes. Entering the bedroom again, I instantly notice a towel, some sweats and a T-shirt. I assume the clothes are Jack's, though I guess a guy I haven't met might live here. I take them through to the bathroom and revel in getting clean, washing my hair thoroughly, relieved that I still have it, for the time being at least.

I pull on the clean clothes. The pants are a little short so I roll them up a couple of times so they look a bit less silly. I would like to pretend I'm not self conscious but Joey is hot as hell and I don't want to look like a complete dork. The T-shirt fits better and is definitely one of Jack's. I recognize it from our years of being roommates. Once I'm dressed I head out into the main part of the house. It is more stunning than I had thought. It's got a huge wooden patio with a hammock and wooden table and chairs, a bright rainbow umbrella providing shade for the table. There's also comfortable outdoor furniture, a couch to sink into and a couple of chairs. The whole deck looks out onto a small, practically insignificant lake which is glinting in the rising sun. Forgetting about food I head outside wondering how Joey found this little piece of paradise, and how she managed to buy the small but perfect wooden cottage. My eyes find Joey almost instantly. She's sat at the table with a cup of coffee protectively in her hand.

'Hey,' she smiles. 'Coffee's in the pot.'

'This place is just...' I can't even think if a word that does it justice.

'Oh I know,' she smiles. 'I know the isolation isn't for everyone but if you don't mind it - I'm not sure there's a more beautiful place. I'll take you out on the kayak later if you want?'

'Oh I want,' I smile widely staring at her messy bun, the loose checked shirt over the ripped jean shorts. She looks like she couldn't give a damn about how she looks and as a result she's utterly gorgeous. Everything about her is just perfect. The way her dimples show when she smiles, the arch of her eyebrows, her large, long lashed eyes with their indescribable colour. I rip my eyes away from her and head into the kitchen with its full coffee pot waiting for me, a nice large mug beside it. I fill up, add a little milk and join her outside.

'How's the head?' she asks, her eyes on the lake.

'Oh it's sore,' I admit and she turns and looks at me, her eyes appraising my face.

'Jack left some drugs, I can get you some?'

'Maybe in a bit, I'm pretty happy right here,' I admit and she shrugs easily.

'Sleep ok?'

'Comfiest bed in the world,' I tell her and she laughs, the sound ringing out in the great outdoors, casting shade on the other sounds of nature.

'It cost enough - it should be comfortable.'

'Where did you sleep? Is there a room I didn't see?'

'Actually yeah,' she takes a sip of coffee. 'Basement with a big tv, sofa bed and pool table.'

'I think you might be the perfect woman,' I muse with obvious humour and she rolls her eyes,

'Far from it actually.'

'Really?' I tease and she blushes slightly,

'I'm a total bitch when I have PMS and I can't cook.'

'Only when you have PMS?' I'm still aiming to tease and her blush is my reward,

'Well when I have PMS and when I meet stupidity. I'm not very patient with the impractical or the idiots of this world. Oh and I get terrible verbal road rage.'

'I can't wait to see that.'

'Perks of living in the middle of nowhere - no one on the road but me. Oh and stupid motorcyclists who skid off the road,' she gives me a look and I laugh because she's making fun of me, rather than tiptoeing around my confession, around the fact that my body is giving up.

'Hey, it was tough to see through the blur of tears,' I defend with a grin and she smiles back.

'Any danger of tears right now?'

'Right now I'm feeling pretty good,' I take a sip of my coffee which is unsurprisingly delicious. 'Even if you can't cook you can make excellent coffee,' I compliment.

'Necessary,' she says simply.

'As a non paying, impromptu, stranger of a houseguest is it presumptuous of me to ask if there might be any breakfast?'

'Totally,' she smirks.

'I am absolutely willing to pay you some board by the way. In fact I insist.'

'If you want to pay, go stay at a hotel,' she says with a roll of her eyes. 'My sister runs the B&B in town.'

'Is her coffee as good as yours?' I give her a serious look. She shakes her head,

'Not nearly though Bodie, my sisters boyfriend, is a chef so the food is pretty awesome.'

'I'd rather good company,' I say and yeah, it's outright flirting. 'I can provide the good food. Jack said to explore your kitchen cupboards and to call him with a list of ingredients I need.'

'Jack would,' she rolls her eyes, 'Well I have fruits and veg galore in the garden on the other side of the house, but that's it.'

'Are there fish in the lake?'

'Yeah. Jack has a rod in the shed. If you've got the patience then be my guest.'

'You have any herbs, spices, tinned tomatoes?'

'I have vine tomatoes that aren't quite ready,' she wrinkles her nose adorably. 'But nothing else. I have barbecue condiments courtesy of Jack. Anything else, you'll need Jack to bring.'

'I could work with ripe vine tomatoes,' I say and smile. 'I'll get Jack to bring some tomatoes.'

'Ok,' she nods. 'You feel well enough to go out in the boat? We could take the canoe instead of the kayak and you could fish from that?'

'Would the doc approve?' I frown. I mean I feel ok. Not great but ok. If I take some pills I would probably be fine.

'Probably not. But you're a doctor too. If you say it's ok, we can trust that. And it's weird to hear him called doctor when we grew up together.'

'Believe me, it's weird having him as my doctor! Is he your doctor?'

'Well yeah, there isn't another one,' she shrugs. 'You take some pills, I'll pack us some fruit and bread and find the rod. I guess dig up some worms for bait and we can set out before it gets too hot.'

'Sounds great. I'll call Jack quickly,' I say and she smiles.

A half hour later we're out on the lake and it's peaceful. It makes me feel an inner peace I haven't felt since that doctors appointment, well since the initial tests. The only sounds are the paddles in water, the crickets, birds, and a faint trickle of water.

'It's nothing spectacular,' Joey says and gestures to the small water fall, 'but I like it.'

'Me too,' I agree already feeling the heat, despite having changed into an old pair of Jack's swimming shorts that Joey found in the basement.

'Fish or swim?' she asks with a quizzical tilt to her head.

'Swim.'

'You're not going to pass out on me?'

'Me?' I gesture to myself, 'no. Not planning to.'

'Good,' she jumps up and shimmies out of her shorts and throws off the shirt to reveal a plain, simple and of course devastatingly sexy, black bikini. Before I can ogle her too much she's dived off the canoe and into the water, surfacing a few seconds later, her bun soaked, her wet skin glinting in the sun which only enhances her goddess like appearance. 'Wow that's cold,' she flicks some of the admittedly icy water at me as she treads water beside the boat.

'Thats freezing,' I grumble.

'But so refreshing,' she flicks me again, so I rip off my shirt and bomb into the water. The cold hits me and I want to scream, but she's right - it's refreshing, exciting and it makes me feel alive. God, I've become a total cliche, but this strange girl is making me crazy and this lifestyle of hers is insanely enticing. I'm not sure I could live in the middle of nowhere all the time but right now it suits me perfectly. 'Good huh?' she says from beside me and I'm filled with the entirely inappropriate desire to kiss her. I don't. Obviously. We swim together, chatting and joking. She tells me she's twenty two, when I ask. Jack's clearly older, being my age, but she says their moms were friends so they've known each other their whole lives. She has another friend, some guy her age called Dawson. She says they dated when they were teenagers, after that she and Jack had a "flirtation." After that Jack came out. They're friends now. He lives in LA, so she doesn't see him much. She mentions one further friend. A girl called Jen whom Jack has mentioned over the years. Her best friend growing up. Apparently she's a blond bombshell who's "everyones" type. I doubt she's mine because Joey is apparently completely my type. She talks about Jen with a kind of reverence you only find in a true friendship. She says they don't really argue because they have an "honesty policy."

We eventually clamber back into the canoe and at first it's cold, but the sun soon warms me up until I'm thankful for the wet clothes keeping me cool. Joey pulls on her shorts but forgoes the shirt, and I find I'm easily distracted as I fish and she chats to me easily.

'So what is it you do? Do you work?' I frown because she hasn't seemed to find squeezing in a fishing trip and a swim much of a struggle on a Thursday morning.

'Yeah, I'm a writer,' she shrugs a little.

'As in a bonafide published author?' I arch my brows and she nods with the same self-deprecating smile as yesterday.

'I write a series for teenagers. It's not exactly an extreme best seller like Twilight but it does ok. Just simple, everyday stories - no hunger games or factions.'

'What's it called?'

'The series is called Lost Lake...I think my inspiration is obvious,' she laughs again, nervous, her cheeks tinged with pink. She needn't be embarrassed. I've actually heard of the series.

'Kind of funny but I brought the series for my niece for her birthday. She asked for them.'

'Thats cool,' she seems genuinely chuffed.

'Totally cool,' I stare at her and we hold eye contact for a little longer than necessary.

'You can tell her I'm working on the next one,' she says and there's a moment of silence. 'You have a brother or sister then?' she asks and I find myself telling her about Dougie, Gretchen, Kerry, Anna and mom and pop.

'Did he hit or just verbally go at you?' she asks when we talk about my dad.

'Mostly it was verbal but I had the odd punch to the face.'

'Hmm,' she's silent for a while, absorbing the information. 'Kind of weird. Your dad being a sheriff but taking the policing of his family to an inappropriate place.'

'That's my pops,' I mutter.

'You know my dad hit us too. He wasn't an alcoholic though,' she stares at the waterfall and then looks back at me. 'He wasn't the town sheriff either, more the local convict. He's in the state penitentiary for armed robbery and drugs. Tons of drugs.'

'Wow,' I say. I didn't see that coming. Growing up with my dad the sheriff and Doug the deputy I, probably wrongly, built up an image of the kids of these cons. Usually damaged. Joey doesn't seem damaged, in fact she seems whole and wonderful. 'How old were you when he was put away?'

'Twelve. My mom died a few weeks later. It's young to have the worst time of your life, but after that stretch of time everything has felt better. My sister and I are close. She pretty much raised me. With Bodie of course.'

'How old was your sister?'

'Twenty. Pregnant and unmarried. Luckily Bodie was a decent guy.'

'It's not decency that should be attributed to men who stick by the women they get pregnant,' I say thinking of Joey's sister and this mistaken notion that decency is what keeps men around.

'You're right, Bessie sure as hell couldn't go anywhere. It wasn't decent of Bodie, but he was only nineteen and many guys wouldn't have stuck around.'

'But he loved her?' I ask and Joey nods. 'Then he wasn't going anywhere. Decency had nothing to do with it.'

'I suppose you're right. I've just been conditioned to think that people do things because they have to.'

'What's conditioned you to think that?' I ask, somehow surprised.

'Dawson, he's a nice guy, a good friend,' she pauses, 'but he made me take evidence to the police that got my dad arrested - this is after his original release when I was fifteen. He made me get my dad to say things, incriminating things whilst wearing a wire. Because it was the right thing. He convinced me because he had to. I did it because I had to. And doesn't doing the right thing make you a decent person?'

'I guess,' I say at length thinking it through. 'But being there for your child isn't a matter of decency, it's something you have to do, because it's human nature, because it's your child, because you're supposed to love them fiercely and unconditionally.'

'My dad had conditions.'

'So did mine,' I sigh. 'But that's not the deal. And whilst my dad's conditions make him less than decent, having no conditions doesn't make you decent in makes you normal. Normal is love unconditional.'

'You want kids?' she asks and I wonder whether she remembers the dying thing. My heart aches at the future that can't be mine.

'I did,' I hate the sting of tears. Sat on a boat with a beautiful girl. A beautiful girl whom I got to wanting the second I laid eyes on her, I feel more than ever the lack of future ahead of me.

'But not any more?'

'I'm dying,' I say.

'Then you aught to remind yourself to keep living,' she says simply and a tug on the fishing line sinks any response I might have back inside of me. I know that what she says is right, according to what people "say" about cancer, but the only thing I want to live for right now is the girl in front of me.

I reel in the fish and she smiles. I find it hard to smile back but she's unperturbed. Instead she surprises me by taking the fish and unhooking it, and gently holding it until it stops flipping.

'I hate this part of fishing,' she admits. 'It's why I don't fish but just stick to the garden stuff,' she shrugs. 'Probably sounds a bit soft.'

'No actually it doesn't,' and it's true. She hates the fish dying. I hate the fish dying. When I was a kid I wanted to fish so badly I used to beg Dougy. He finally relented and took me and when that fish lay in the bottom of the boat, starved of oxygen, well I nearly cried. I didn't because I was trying to be brave. 'I hate that we need another,' I say and she nods but she helps me bait the hook in a unsqueamish way, her fingers knocking against mine. I resist the urge to take her hand in mine, so I'm utterly surprised when she takes my hand, our hands resting against the rough wooden seat of the canoe as I flick the line back into the water. At length she let's go.

We head back to shore once we have the second fish. It didn't take long and we keep the conversation light and easy going. Well I wouldn't say we keep it anything. Conversation flows pretty easily and naturally. She tells me stories about growing up, escapades in movie making, the almost love triangles between her Dawson and Jen. I in turn tell her about my friends. Somehow we move onto Andie and I tell her everything. How Andie had faith in me when no one else seemed to but she was never quite happy with who I was, how she kept insisting I could be more and how I wondered at what was important about being more when I was happy. Andie cheating mortified me in many ways but I find myself telling Joey all about it and she surprises me with her fury. She's outraged that Andie cheated on me, and she paddles furiously.

'I hit a nerve with that revelation?' I ask and she stops paddling all at once.

'Yeah,' she admits and smiled at me over her shoulder.

'Care to share?'

'You haven't had enough of my sordid past?' She quirks a brow.

'Never,' I say with utter honesty.

'My father cheated on my sick mother,' she explains simply and I get it. Andie might not know I'm sick, in fact it probably doesn't impact the situation - Joey just doesn't like cheaters. They're scum. Andie is in many ways. Of course the sick part of me, mentally that is, remembers her bouncy enthusiasm, that faith she held in me. Then Joey continues, 'I have an age stipulation on the cheating thing though because when I was fifteen and dating Dawson, well I kissed Jack. I was young, hormonal and it was a kiss. It was wrong and I vowed to never do it again. I never would either. I still feel sick to my stomach. My dad though? Well he was married, with kids, to a sick woman...'

'Andie was old enough to know better and it wasn't just a kiss, just once.'

'She didn't tell you then?' she asks as we tie the canoe to her small dock.

'No, she didn't.'

'Then it's wrong. I understand the human condition. We are young and we make mistakes, but we have to own up to them.'

'We do,' I agree.

'You ever cheat?' she asks and I shake my head,

'No. I've always been a one woman guy. I mean, I won't lie, I've had a few one night stands, but if I'm with a girl, then I'm only with her.'

'Are you the guy who slept with his English teacher in high school?'

'Yeah, and I was very committed,' I say and she laughs, loudly.

'Oh I bet you were. How many fantasies did she fulfil?'

'Enough,' I answer and she looks at the fish we caught.

'I'll let you take care of them, I'm gonna go work for a bit. I just need to pay a couple of bills and finish the current chapter. You should take a rest - your head must be throbbing.'

'It is,' I admit ruefully.

'Have a lie down. We can play a game later.'

'A game?' I smirk.

'Yeah,' she gives me a withering look. 'You know, like scrabble, cards, something like that.'

'I would love to play a game. I honestly can't remember the last time I played a game of cards.'

'We'll start with rummy and move onto poker when the others get here. I think we might need another swim, it's awfully hot for May.'

'Sounds great,' I nod and after grabbing a knife from the kitchen I head outside to deal with the fish. When I'm done I wash up and then head upstairs for a much needed lie down. Joey's bed is taking on mythical greatness in my mind as I imagine the soft covers. The shower is going and I pause to imagine Joey under the stream of water, and I'm very tempted to go in, but of course that would be entirely inappropriate so I head into the bedroom. She's made the bed and opened the window but drawn the blind. The room is entirely inviting and after shutting the door I strip off my clothes and dig around in my bag for clean boxers and climb into the bed. I'm asleep in moments.

When I awake, I feel bleary and disorientated and pretty god damned awful. I sit up and notice my tablets and a fresh glass of water by the bed. I take the tablets and stay in bed until the edge is gone off my headache and I feel a little better. It's warm so I put the swimming shorts back on before heading into the living area. Joey is on the deck reading a book, so after grabbing a glass of water I join her.

'Hey,' she smiles. 'Feel groggy and disorientated from sleeping in the day?'

'Pretty much,' I admit.

'You hungry? I have some cookies somewhere.'

'Sure. Cookies sound pretty good right now. Aren't you starving just eating salad?'

'I don't just eat salad,' she scowls, 'I mean I have bread in the freezer and...well cookies,' she finishes brightly and heads inside returning a few moments later with an unopened pack of chocolate chip cookies. They look insanely good. She hands me the packet with a knowing look. I just grin and dig in. She gives me a look and then sinks onto the couch beside me, her body resting against mine as she takes a cookie. She's closer than strangers normally sit, but we don't feel like strangers. For one she's Jack's friend, a girl Jack's known his whole life, and for two we talk about things I don't even talk about with my friends back home. I clearly like her, a gut wrenching adoration of her. So when she sits close I relish it, in fact I run my fingers along hers and she looks at me, but doesn't say anything.

We sit like that for a while, her body resting against mine, her fingers against mine, watching the water and chatting about our literary preferences. It's fun, really good fun, especially when we disagree and she gets this fiery look in her eyes. At length she goes inside to grab the cards and we play rummy. The downside of rummy is that she sits back on the chair, but we keep making this prolonged eye contact. We play cards until we hear an engine and then voices and Jack and a pretty blond girl who must be Jen arrive. They come straight around the back, singing hello, Jack introducing me to Jen, as he immediately fires up the barbecue. I realize I better get on with cooking, so I head inside to prepare the fish surprised to find Joey beside me asking what she can do. I get her peeling potatoes and slicing red onion, then chopping veggies for the halloumi kebabs I have planned. Jen puts her feet up outside, talking to Jack who has grabbed them both a beer. Things are easy going. Jen accepts me in this small group as if I've always been here, throwing me questions when she comes in for another beer, sitting on a stool at the counter opposite me and Joey, and joining the conversation. If she notices how close Joey and I stand she doesn't comment on it.

At length we head outside with all the food and put it on the barbecue, the salad on the table whilst the homemade fries cook in the oven. The conversation is easy, light and teasing, Jack talking about the lack of romantic options and Jen agreeing. Joey doesn't really mention the lack of romantic opportunity.

'You don't seem to have the same complaints as these two,' I say and she gives me a look. Before she can answer Jack pipes up,

'Jo prefers a lonely life.'

'Thats not true,' she defends.

'Come on Joey, of course it is. You're never interested in even trying to meet someone.'

'I'm not uninterested,' Joey says with a careless shrug, 'I just don't want to meet someone in a club two hours away or god forbid the bar downtown.'

'Theirs nothing wrong with Mackenzie's,' Jack defends.

'Nothing right with it either,' Joey quips.

'That might be true,' Jen concedes. 'And you know Jo, those are our options if we live here, it's not like we just find guys on the side of the street...oh wait,' she smirks and Joey blushes even though she has no reason to. I'm thrilled by her blush.

'Sorry you haven't had the same luck,' she smirks through her blush and shoots me a look. I hold her eyes because hell, if she wants me that's great, because despite the reason I'm here, despite the cancer, I want her. I want her badly.

'No,' Jen laughs at her friend. 'Shame,' this time she looks at me and let's me know she thinks I'm attractive, a look that says she's not interested but could be.

'Shame I'm riddled with cancer,' I say and I'm not sure why. Maybe so Jen knows I'm not a catch, and certainly no good for her friend.

'No ones perfect,' Joey says and ruffles my hair, all of which overshadows Jen look of sympathy. I guess Jack told her in the car on the way. As Joey's hand trails away I catch it in my own and hold it. She let's me. Jack gives me a look but Jen rolls her eyes as if she expected nothing less.

At length I have to get up and sort out the dinner, until we're serving up on the table, beers seeping condensation onto the wood of the table. I'd like to pretend the murmurs of approval over the food meant nothing, but I'm completely chuffed with the obvious appreciation.

'I almost forgot how good your food is Pace,' Jack moans softly, but my eyes are glued on Joey who eats slowly, savouring every bite.

I can't say how many beers we've drunk, or how much a game of poker had me laughing, but at length Jen and Jack disappear and it's only Joey and I on the deck in the moonlight, the soft smell if citronella in the air from the candle that lights the cool air.

'Do you guys do this a lot?' I ask her, and she gets up from her chair and sits beside me on the couch where I flopped moments before. Again she's closer than normal social dictates.

'Yeah. Every week, twice a week in the summer. They sleep in the basement and head off early.'

'So where will you sleep?' I ask my heart hammering and she gives me a sultry look.

'Couch inside,' she smirks and I laugh at her, before leaning in and pressing my lips to the length of neck exposed by her bun. It's not a kiss really, more a sign of affection and she takes it as such, a soft sigh floating away across the lake.

'I like being here,' I admit, 'I'm glad I crashed and I'm glad you found me.'

'It sounds all wrong for me to say me too, but me too,' she snuggles in a little closer and I wonder what she'd do if I kissed her, properly kissed her, not in the ambiguous way I just did. I don't kiss her, but we sit there for a long time before she yawns and heads inside lying down on the couch, whispering the words 'good night.'

I cover her with a blanket and indulge in the pleasure of watching her sleep for far too long. When my head begins to pound I head into the bedroom but I leave the door open so I can make out the shape of her on the couch.