She's Not My Daughter

…but she could have been. Mike Potter and I dated first—before he met and fell in love with my best friend, Lillian Stanbury. Lillian was a few years older than I. We met in college. Actually, I was going to Wesleyan and she was the day manager at our favorite greasy spoon. She was taking extension classes at night and I often ran into her on campus. We used to compare notes about guys and even went out on a few double dates; our tastes in men were very similar.

The next thing I knew, my ex had swept her off her feet and lured her back to Capeside on the promise of opening up their very own restaurant as soon as they had saved enough money. I didn't find out until months later that she was pregnant and they had rushed into marriage. It wasn't a loveless marriage by any means, but Mike was the desired one in the power position and Lily was simply the one who loved.

Bessie was scarcely a year old when Lily became pregnant again. She miscarried in her second trimester and was devastated. Two years later, after Mitch and I moved into our first house, Lily and I discovered that we were both expecting. She lost her second child weeks before I did and we bonded in our mutual misery.

Imagine our elation three years later when we both became pregnant within months of each other; Dawson was due in March, Joey in late September. We were both scared and often comforted each other. The fact that Dawson was such an easy birth cheered her enormously. "He seems to have all the prerequisite fingers and toes," she said, marveling at his bright blue eyes and healthy red cheeks.

Joey's appearance was a much different story. She couldn't seem to make up her mind if she was coming out or not and poor Lillian, painfully overdue to begin with, spent 36 hours in labor. Just shy of the birth canal, Joey stuck her arms out like she had no intention of leaving; the outline of her fingers could be seen in her mother's abdomen and the OB prepared for a C-section. Suddenly, before she had a chance to reconsider, she loosened her grip and shot straight out.

Yet despite the pain she caused, when Joey finally emerged—kicking and screaming, I might add—both Mike and Lily fell in love with her instantly. She was their little miracle. Big brown eyes—did she really have such long lashes then?—chocolate brown hair, and I remember her having long fingers for such a tiny one.

Shortly after her birth, Mitch and I moved to Boston where I had a job offer at a network affiliate. We didn't return to Capeside for nearly five years. In the meantime, the Potter marriage had gone through its ups and downs, but Lily remained amazingly positive. The Potter family restaurant was still an unfulfilled dream and Lily was working two jobs to keep the family afloat; Mike worked part-time in a machine shop downtown.

Dawson hadn't made any friends in Capeside yet and with school starting I suggested to Lily that she could leave Joey with us anytime she wanted to. After awhile it was no longer a matter of choice, Dawson wouldn't have it any other way. He and Joey appeared joined at the hip—I thought it was perfectly innocent and even charming at the time.

By the end of his first school year, Dawson had become pals with Pacey Witter as well. They were complete opposites, but that seemed to be the thing that Dawson liked most about him; Pacey dared him to do things that he would never do on his own. Thankfully, most of it was pretty harmless but I did call John Witter when his son brought over a pile of firecrackers and set them off in our front yard to scare the birds out of the trees. I guess his sisters made him watch Steel Magnolias one too many times.

Joey and Pacey… Well, that was another story. They competed so fiercely for Dawson's attention and my gorgeous son reveled in it, often purposely playing them off against each other. With them at odds, it did keep his concerns front and center, while he happily played the role of understanding friend to both. I'm surprised that they ever managed to get along, but every once in awhile you caught a glimmer of something special between them: Pacey holding her hand when she was scared by noises in the dark, Joey looking at him a certain way when he was trying to show off his muscles, their mutual pleasure in giving Dawson a hard time when he admittedly got too full of himself.

They were a co-dependent lot, a mini-Three Musketeers, and we were naively reticent about breaking that dependency, especially after Joey's mother died. Breast cancer. Although I never could have voiced it while Lillian was alive, I had come to think of Joey as my surrogate daughter —no, it was deeper than that. On nights when she would stay over to watch movies with our son, Mitch and I felt like the Leery's were a family of four.

When Joey was eight years old, she broke her arm falling off a swing and I was the one who rushed her to the hospital. I remember how hard Dawson tried to keep her from crying, comforting her in the back seat, telling her everything was going to be OK. She was more embarrassed than anything; she had been trying to show off and it backfired.

She was so funny and bright…and irritating and obstinate…and charming. But what endeared her to me was her innate vulnerability. When she was going through a bad time, and she looked at you with those liquid brown eyes, you just wanted to do anything to make things better for her, anything to protect her from harm.

After Mike Potter was arrested for drug trafficking, Bessie and I had a long talk. Poor Bess. She was a mere 22 and so overwhelmed by the responsibilities now foisted upon her. She had no idea how to raise a teenager. When Joey had her first menstrual period, Bess tried to sit her down for "the talk" and, by her own admission, had failed miserably— though if her story was accurate, she certainly did better than the pitiful lecture I got in the Girl Scouts!

Bessie was also terrified about all the obstacles being thrown at teens in this modern era. How could she possibly steer Joey clear of that horror? Managing an opinionated teen of my own, I was dealing with many of the same issues for the first time and I promised Bess that I would look out for Joey, offering whatever support she was willing to accept. Because if recent events had changed anything for Joey Potter, it was to make her even more strong-willed and independent. She would turn and walk the other way if she thought you were doing something because you felt sorry for her; she didn't suffer pity or charity lightly.

I don't know when I first figured out that her feelings for Dawson went beyond mere friendship. Initially, I believe it was Mitch who noticed the furtive glances…the discreet smiles whenever Dawson innocently grabbed her hand...the hurt looks when he seemed to ignore her. "I think little Joey is developing a crush on our son," Mitch told me as we watched her climbing up the ladder into Dawson's bedroom

"Maybe we should put a stop to the sleepovers," I replied, noting that puberty was coming on awfully fast. "Naw," Mitch insisted. "First of all, our son is completely oblivious to it. She's still Joey the tomboy to him. And I don't want either of them thinking they've done something wrong just by growing up." "Okay," I said tentatively. "But I think we should insist on open doors from now on." "Agreed. And no more doctor's house calls in the closet," Mitch said, laughing. I had forgotten about Pacey's bare-assed show two summers earlier.

"Of course, if you want to make a house call…" I whispered to my husband.

"The doctor is in!" he exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pulling me back into the very large, very dark closet under the first floor landing.

zzzzzzzzzz

I'm ashamed to admit that it was Joey who first discovered the truth about my "indiscretion". I'm not sure what tipped her off, but she made it clear in no uncertain terms what she thought about my reckless behavior. "Your actions affect others, they bleed into the lives of those around you," she said. Her eyes were piercing through my obvious dishonesty. "You know your 'reasons' for doing what you're doing? They can't possibly outweigh the everlasting damage that you're creating."

We don't talk about it now, but I remember that at the time what struck me hardest was that she was equally protective of Mitch and Dawson. In fact, when I finally confessed the truth to my husband—rather symbolically during the middle of a hurricane—he fled outside and it was Joey who watched over him from the porch, concerned that the car might be washed away at any minute. I loved her for that. I saw her scrunched in a corner, nervously smoking a cigarette, and I realized how our roles had reversed. She was playing the adult and I was acting like a child. Otherwise, I would have gone out there and grabbed that cigarette from her!

I should have. But I rarely saw her with a cigarette after that night. I found out later that Mitch had had a talk with her and she quit.

I can't even begin to describe the sense of pride I felt when I saw her presentation at the Miss Windjammer Pageant. One of the perks of being a local celebrity is that I was asked to be one of the judges for this normally archaic affair. With Joey and Pacey both competing I probably should have recused myself. But then these affairs are always so incestuous. Everyone was either related to or knew at least one of the contestants, and I figured I would be fairer than most.

When Joey first walked out in her evening gown, I knew that was going to be a problem. Don't get me wrong: Pacey was funny and charming and looked damn fine in a tux—but Joey just blew me away. Her rendition of "On My Own" from Les Miserables was touching and heartfelt. Probably not as studied as the piano concerto played by Roberta Krum, the evening's winner, but impressive nonetheless. In terms of poise and maturity, however, I thought she had them all beat. If she had been a senior or even junior in school, I think she would have snagged that one extra vote she needed to win.

There was one area she won hands down, no one else was invited to apply—and that was in the quest for my son's heart. Why had it taken so long for him to open his eyes? I don't know. He and Jen weren't an item anymore. I think Joey was just too close to him for him to see her clearly. At the pageant, he saw her through the eyes of others, and through the lens of his video camera, realizing for the first time what she meant to him. Or maybe I'm giving him more credit than he deserves. He always idealized their friendship. Maybe he was being typically male and needed to see the physical change in order for him to recognize the beauty that she always was. Men can be so thick sometimes.

But I have an embarrassing admission to make: Mitch and I were so caught up in our own relationship drama that we failed to notice what was happening under our very eyes. When Joey and my son went upstate to visit her father in prison and they had to stay overnight, we didn't think twice about it. Mitch authorized the use of his credit card, thanked the motel clerk for allowing two minors to stay there, and we went straight to bed without another thought. Women can be so thick sometimes, too.

What we noticed when they got back was how quiet both of them were, how shy they'd suddenly become around each other. When Joey showed up for movie night and all we heard were QVC promos—something Dawson never tolerated—we knew something was up. That is, I did. Mitch still thought it was all completely innocent…until he noticed the lights out and the closed door.

It seems rather funny to think about it now. Given our history, why should we have been shocked to see our son making out with this gorgeous brunette? Was it because it was Joey? Or was it because it was surprising to suddenly view our son as a sexual creature? The same son who had always given us such a hard time about our healthy sex life.

Maybe it was surprising to think of little Joey Potter as a sexual being as well. There she was, with her hands caressing his neck and hair while his hands were exploring God knows where. My son was nestled between her legs as they lay across the bottom of his bed. She had one foot up on the bed and the other was firmly on the ground—had they been testing out Dawson's theories about sex in movies?

What was comical, in retrospect, was that he was so flustered about being caught. He actually introduced Joey to us as if we hadn't known the girl for the better part of fifteen years. Actually, I take that back—his father was equally flustered, intent on offering the proper advice to his son as he was coming of age, but unable to articulate it. I know Dawson ribbed him about that "No hat, no glove" line for some time to come.

zzzzzzzzzz

So they were a couple. They were so cute together, I really was happy for both of them. I didn't tell them that, though, as things rapidly deteriorated between Mitch and I. Poor Dawson was having his illusions about perfect coupling shot down right and left. We tried our best not to involve him in our fights, but sometimes it was hard not to. There's nothing discreet about yelling epithets at the top of your lungs.

I think the constant bickering was as hard for Joey to take as it was for Dawson. Sometimes I blame myself for their first breakup. He was trying so hard to hold onto his "perfect" past, and that meant that he didn't want Joey to change either. She grew up faster than he did and he was trying to hold her back, reshape her into perfect girlfriend Joey.

One night I overheard them having a heated argument. For years she had wanted him to see the real Joey; she thought that's what he finally fell in love with—only to find him as self-absorbed as ever. Yes, I will admit it: my son lives in the center of his own special world. He took her adoration for granted, and I think the idea of being defined strictly as Dawson Leery's girlfriend was too much for her.

He didn't know how to hold her. I suspect—although I'm not completely sure of this—that he tried to move on her sexually before she was ready. Big mistake. Especially for two kids who had only seen each other as friends until recently. Especially for two friends who behaved more like brother and sister until recently. Imagine the Freudian underpinnings in that!

Dawson didn't even speak of their breakup until I asked him about movie night; I hadn't seen Joey in a couple of days. "She left me," he said very dramatically. It was only then that I realized that his bedroom window, usually open throughout the four seasons, was closed and locked. I discovered later the ladder had also been put away. "What happened?" "She kissed another boy," he said with no small measure of disgust.

I didn't dare go any further, but he kept talking—gushing, actually, with details of the school dance. "We were having a great time," he said. "She made me forget about…about…" I knew what he was trying to say. She made him forget about the scene he had just witnessed: Mitch leaving me and the crocodile tears that followed. He said something about changing partners and how she suddenly ran out of the room. When Dawson caught up with her she was apparently having a fight with this new boy, Jack.

"I don't think you're angry with me for kissing you," Dawson overheard the other boy say. "I think you're angry with yourself for kissing me back." "Schmuck," Dawson said. He must've learned that one from his film buddies. "I tried to talk to her, ask what he meant, but she ran away from me. Me! When I was leaving the dance, she came after me and tried to give me some line about, 'It's not you, it's me.' What does that mean? She said that I made her happy but that she had to make herself happy first. What does that mean? I told her I loved her and she said she loved me, too. And then she walked away! What does that mean? She walked away without giving us a chance to work it out. Did she mean anything she said?"

Oh, boy. I've been there before. And there was nothing really to say or do, just play the role of the supportive mom, the one who understands. I felt abandoned, too, and we commiserated together. I wonder if Dawson knows how important that was to me.

And Joey. What could I say about her? What would I say TO her when I next saw her? She knew better than anyone that she'd hurt my son, and it was obvious she must be hurting too. Potter Pain is a very special brand.

Once again, she was the one who surprised me. It seems she and Dawson had been working on repairing their friendship and, as evidence of that, my son had been wildly extravagant. He had won the Juror's Prize at the Boston Film Festival for best film in the junior division. The prize was $2,500—which was supposed to go toward making his next film, but, without consulting any of us, Dawson apparently decided to split the prize with Joey. I know he couldn't really have been thinking about this. I mean, what kind of message did that send to Joey? That he hoped to win her over with money? And what kind of message did that send to his other friends, Pacey and Jen, who had also worked on the film without any notion of payment?

Joey showed up at the house one day with an envelope and a tin of cookies. I invited her in to wait for Dawson, who was out with Jen on some supply mission. I hadn't seen her in weeks and I missed her. After we got past the "So how's everything going?" introductory remarks, both of us struggled awkwardly with the silence. Finally, I asked her about the tin she'd brought.

"Oh, I baked some cookies for Dawson. Chocolate chip." "His favorite," I said. "I know," Joey replied, and I had to smile. Of course she did. "It's been a long time since we've baked anything together. I kind of miss those Saturday afternoons." "Me, too," she said, as the big toe of her Keds traced little circles on the hardwood floor.

"Mrs. Leery?" "Yes, Joey?" "I baked the cookies because I wanted to say thank you. But I think he went a little overboard this time. I can't accept all that money." "Money?" She looked up, clearly unsure whether or not it would be wise to continue. I patted her hand. "If you want to share something, Joey, it's strictly between you and I. As friends." She flashed a nervous smile, then took it back immediately.

"The thing is…I mean, you know about the Boston Film Festival, right?" "Of course. I'm really proud of Dawson," I told her. "I'm really proud of all of you." "He was so excited when he told me about everything. I felt bad for turning him down, for being the spoiler. He wants me to help him produce the next one and I just can't. I've got too many commitments already." "Oh. Well, surely he understands that."

"He said that he did." Joey fidgeted again on the sofa. "But…I didn't know what to say when he showed up on my doorstep with a check for half the prize money."

He did what?

"I refused it at first, but he was so insistent. He said there were no strings attached."

Big lie. Did Dawson even know how manipulative he was being here?

"I don't know. These art classes are expensive. So…" "You took the money." Joey nodded. "Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. He wanted you to have it."

And unfortunately it was his to give away.

"It still didn't feel right. I tried to talk to Bessie about it, but she didn't know what to do about it either. So I made a deal with myself: I bought some art supplies—which is what Dawson wanted me to do—and they cost less than two hundred dollars. Then…do you think it was OK for me to buy some groceries for the house?"

I wanted to cry. I hadn't even thought to ask how things were going for her at home. "Of course it is, Joey." I put my arm around her. "Anyway, Bessie took me to the bank and I had a money order made out to Dawson for the balance. I hope he's not mad."

I knew there was a reason why I loved this girl. With all the negative examples she had in life, she had developed a very honest and forthright moral code. Her mother would be so proud.