II.
I don't know much about the Joey-Jen rivalry. I know it existed—for many different reasons, not just because of my son. They seemed to go through cycles of being friends on and off despite Dawson's importance (or lack of it) in their lives. Joey told me she gave Jen "tips" about Dawson's God-Bless-the-Only-Child way of thinking when things got tricky in their relationship. Jen coached Joey on the importance of Vaseline in that Miss Windjammer pageant.
When Jen's grandfather died, Joey was tremendously sympathetic…but within weeks, days even, was throwing her dagger looks when she thought Jen was trying to move in on Dawson again. I never really understood the full scope of it until I invited Jen to bring her friends over to share their points of view for a teen-life piece I was working on for the station. If looks could kill, Jen would have been dust that night. Joey simply could not, would not give her a break.
The interesting thing is that neither one was in a romantic relationship with my son at the time; their rivalry was obviously much deeper than that. Had I seen her act more hostile? Yes. When she found out her father was cheating on her mother as she lay dying. But that provocation was understandable, perhaps even justifiable. But what had Jen done to incite such vitriol?
It turned out to be territorial after all. "You want our relationship to change?" I overheard Joey say accusatorially. "Then stop encroaching on what's mine. You continue to recast yourself in my role, then feign shock and surprise when I resent you for it….First, you were Dawson's girlfriend and now you're his producer, his collaborator, his best friend. You've adopted his interests, his dreams and now his mother."
H-E-double toothpicks. I never even considered what Joey would feel about my inviting Jen to help me organize this little human interest story. To be honest, Jen had better networking skills and I thought Joey would shy away from making such a commitment. Thankfully, the evening ended well with both girls gaining insight into each other's psyche and discovering they had more in common than first imagined. I came across the clip reel recently and the naked honesty was unbelievably touching.
"When I first came here from New York, I felt relief," Jen confessed. "Trying to compete in that hyper-accelerated world, I was in the fast lane to self-annihilation. And then, when I got here, I figured maybe I didn't have anything to prove and that I could finally slow down. But having all that experience just came back to haunt me."
Jen's revelation seemed to inspire an equally personal one from her "rival". "When somebody comes along who has seen things that I've never seen or done, things that I've only dreamed about, my defenses go up because I can't compete with that. I'm just Joey Potter, you know? The small town girl who will live and die on the creek—and as much as I completely disdain that identity… it's all I've got. So if I ever feel like somebody is going to steal that measly bit of self that I have or that small amount of love that I've somehow managed to accumulate, I feel threatened and I go for the jugular. I admit it."
Wow. That's my girl. Own up to your insecurities. People want to understand.
Listening to these girls talk so beautifully about their fears and desires, I was reminded of the daughter I had lost in miscarriage…and the daughter I gained through friendship and loss. Joey. The best reward for producing this news piece was that it gave me a chance to tell her how special she was—and still is—to me.
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I think it meant something to Joey to hear that I still cared about her, that nothing would ever change that. The same was true of my son. Joey was like an addiction to him—he just couldn't get her out of his system. He never believed she had truly moved on; he never gave up on her. Scratch the surface of his cordial concern for her and you'd find a young man still enraptured with the idea of loving her...and her loving him back.
So what did he hope to accomplish by making a film about their relationship? Complex vocabulary notwithstanding, I was incredibly proud of my son for Creek Times because it was his first attempt at a realistic human drama. It was a chance for him to work out some of the things that were nagging him at the time. But I always wondered what Joey, the other protagonist of this melodrama, thought. Not just about Dawson's depiction of her and his exploitation of some of their most private moments, but also about his efforts (rightly or wrongly) to get inside her head. How would she have felt about this lose of privacy?
We never talked about it, but I think it bothered her. Yet she remained amazingly supportive throughout the ordeal, a part of her resigned that Dawson must follow his muse wherever it led him, another part cognizant that he was dealing with his own demons at the time. The questions just didn't go away…but for Dawson the answer remained the same.
"Joey's the answer. I had her, I lost her, and now I'm going to get her back. How's that for definitive?"
Life's twists and turns inevitably led Joey back to my son. Not when he thought she would, after her relationship with Jack McPhee ended, but when she was ready—when the final piece in her fantasy puzzle was in place. Mike Potter was unexpectedly let out on parole and his presence at home brought new joy to his daughters' lives. Joey, naturally suspicious, was a wreck—full of anticipation and hope and fear. She wanted desperately for this to be the happy ending she'd always dreamt about, but fully expected to learn it was all a bloody trick.
I felt for her, I really did. It's not easy to let someone back into your life when they've hurt you so badly. It was at the Althorp wedding that I first saw her begin to relax and accept happiness as her due. Mike Potter, charmer that he is, decided to play matchmaker and bring my son and his daughter back together as well. Moments later, when we saw them kissing sweetly on the dance floor, I think both of our hearts were warmed and, at the same time, relieved. "Ah, young love," he said as we danced away. We both agreed that seeing them as a couple again seemed fitting and right.
Mike. What did you do? What were you thinking? Didn't you know you were acting out your daughter's worst fears when you got involved with you old drug-dealing cronies? The girls had survived for three years without any major financial catastrophes—was money really that much of a concern?
I didn't want to think about it at first, but somehow I knew when Dawson first asked me for advice about the "something really bad" that he'd discovered, that the "someone" he really cared about was Joey and the "someone close to them" was her father. Days later, when The Ice House was torched, he had no choice but to admit the truth of what he had seen to Mitch and I. He knew this wasn't going to play well with Joey, she had fallen hard into the fantasy, but he was determined to do the right thing.
He was right. She didn't take it well at all. She sat in that chair in John Witter's office steaming, brooding, her eyes getting darker and darker as it became obvious what they wanted her to do: help turn in her father before someone in her family got hurt. I remember how she flinched when I tried to show her some support by reassuringly touching her shoulder. She was already beginning to steel herself against the fallout, building that protective shell to keep anyone who could hurt her—or help her—out.
Dawson wanted to be there when she confronted her father. He wanted to show support, but he approached her too quickly afterwards and she struck back in fury. I wouldn't even have known the details of this if it hadn't been for that goddamn audio tape. Yes, an enterprising deputy did make copies of the tape and, unfortunately, it got passed around to different news organizations in town. Joey's talk with Mike was heartbreaking enough, but the tape continued to roll as she spoke with Dawson, her anger and self-loathing so vivid and palpable. She would never forgive him, she said. She wanted to forget she ever knew him.
Dawson walked—perhaps staggered is a better word—back into our house and I knew things had not gone well. His face was a startling, translucent white—not his usual film geek pallor. I think that's the first time I ever saw him cry as a young man. I went to hug him and he just lost it, the language incomprehensible but affecting all the same.
After his last final exam, I took him with me to Philadelphia and he spent his first summer in memory without Joey Potter.
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I can't even imagine what she was going through during this period. I gather that friends were calling in updates, but Dawson rarely shared them with me. Mitch said that he heard she was working down at the marina but that she never came by and he never saw her in town. He ran into Bessie once and she seemed embarrassed about their situation (as if any of it was their fault!) and said only that Joey had withdrawn from everyone.
How could I be mad at her? She hurt my son, yes. But it was the understandable reaction of a child whose trust had been violated. Remember what she said about going for the jugular whenever someone threatened the small amount of happiness she had been able to find in the world? Her father was the one who betrayed her, but she directed her anger at the person who first "enlightened" her. Dawson.
Had he been too eager to be the hero? I don't think so. Not with Mitch and I encouraging him on; we were all worried about Joey and her family.
As the summer came an end, you could feel the dread building in Dawson about his return to Capeside. For a moment, he actually considered staying in Philadelphia and going to school there. But my work situation wasn't secure and I know he would have missed his friends. He certainly never stopped thinking about her: what to do, what to say.
"It's over," he insisted. "I love her, but I can't go through that again. I'm through with the strum und drang. Besides, Mom, as far as I know, she still doesn't want to talk to me."
"You'll talk eventually," I told him. "Just be honest with her, listen to her. She needs to feel that she can trust people again."
Two weeks later, he reported back that they had indeed spoken. It was sad, he admitted. Everything seemed to go well at first. Joey apologized for the harsh things she'd said and for hurting him. She said that she missed him…loved him…wanted him. Unfortunately, Dawson kept her at arm's length and made her feel that he didn't want her. That wasn't completely honest, but he didn't know how else to handle it. At 16, he simply wasn't ready to jump back into a committed relationship. Joey left his room in tears.
My heart broke for her. Knowing how he felt, I think my son did the right thing in not giving her false hope. But I knew the girl whom I thought of as a surrogate daughter was probably hurting badly after opening up and making such a confession. It was reassuring to learn that Dawson had the presence of mind to send Pacey after her. With his girlfriend in the hospital, Pacey had had a tough summer as well. But if the previous year had taught this former goofball anything, it was how to be sensitive and really listen to women. He might give her a tough time—old habits die hard—but Pacey was probably as worried about Joey as the rest of us.
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What was so funny? I asked "What's up?" and Mitch couldn't stop laughing. It was Thursday, time for the weekly update from my boys. (Okay, so Mitch wasn't mine anymore, but I was working on repairing that one.) His laughter was infectious and soon I was giggling in response and I still didn't know why. I only knew felt good. It felt like…we were still a family.
"Mitch?" "Sorry, Gale. I remember the last time we stumbled on something like this, we were dumbfounded by the revelation and now all I can think of is, 'That's my boy!' " Father and son had just returned from a homecoming rally at Capeside High—where it turned out that Dawson, instead of providing the entertainment for such an event, was the entertainment for an audience of students, parents and teachers. What was behind Screen #2? My son making out with a hot blonde (or so I was told).
Who was this girl? Nobody seemed to know much about her, except that her name was Eve. How appropriate. Eve the temptress, the girl who was designed to make him forget…
"Oh God, Mitch. Did Joey see it?" The guffawing stopped at the other end of the line. Mitch became pensive. "I don't know. I don't think so. If she had, I don't think that she'd be talking to Dawson right now."
"She's there?" "They're out on the dock. And there's no yelling or screaming…no punches being thrown. They're just sitting down, talking. She's swinging her legs. I think everything's fine. He just gave something to her and she's smiling."
Joey's smiling? I can't tell you the relief I felt then. "Oh, he's coming back in now. Do you want to talk to him?" Absolutely.
"So…you and Joey appear to have mended a few fences," I said. "I don't think she'll ever stop surprising me," Dawson replied. "She saw something today she wasn't supposed to, and instead of being angry and upset she said she had learned something. She realized that I was right and that we needed to spend some time apart." See? She's growing up faster.
"Mom, I hope you don't mind. I gave her that friendship necklace." "Of course I don't mind. That's how it's supposed to be used. So what does this mean, honey?" "That we're connected and we always will be. You know, Dawson and Joey. Soulmates."
To this day, I've never known where he came up with that term. It wasn't something Mitch and I shared with him. It had to have been a movie lesson. But the only ones I can think of are decidedly un-Spielberg. In Harold & Maude, a teenage boy and an old woman are quote unquote soulmates. And in A Stranger Among Us, Melanie Griffith goes undercover in the Hassidic community and falls in love with a young scholar, a future leader of his people. But he's about to get married to a woman he's never met, a woman he calls his soulmate. Neither one of these stories seem to apply, do they?
Soulmates is such a life-defining concept. Does anyone know what it means at 16? Reducing everything down to this ideal at such a young age would seem to promise a future together without the necessary work needed to sustain such a relationship; the implied definition restricting rather than enriching. Did Mitch and I know with any certainty at 16 how things would turn out? No.
I hoped that our son wouldn't put a premature label on his relationship with Joey. That he would give it a chance to grow and evolve naturally.
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Thanksgiving at Evelyn Ryan's was the first time I'd seen Joey in months. Lord she had grown! Spiritually and physically. I swear she was at least two inches taller…and thin, way too thin, in my opinion. It was the first time I saw her in action as the mediator, the peacemaker. Joey was a young woman now and I was so proud of her.
Did I ever tell you the story about The Ice House? The Ice House had a tortured history—just like the family that now owned it. Mike Potter bought it on a whim without knowing if he could fully finance it. It seems he manipulated the figures a little on those loan applications; Lillian was forced to keep a second job as a barmaid in order to keep one step ahead of creditors. Evenso, owning that restaurant gave the Potters a real sense of being part of the Capeside community and I don't think I'd ever seen her as happy as she was working to maintain that dream.
After Lillian died, Bessie confided in me that her life insurance had paid off the mortgage on their modest home. But keeping the restaurant open was an ongoing struggle, which was only made possible by the hard work of the two Potter girls and a young man named Bodi Dulaine who donated his salary in exchange for room and board. Of course, it helped that he was also in love with the older sister, Bessie.
Joey adored him. I don't think she ever saw color when she looked at him. One of the nicer benefits about surviving the '60s is witnessing first-hand how today's generation is much blinder to color—not that the barrier has been erased entirely.
One day, I stopped by The Ice House to check in and I saw Bodi walking toward a back booth where Joey was cleaning and refilling condiment containers. He wiped his hands with the dish cloth he was holding and sat down next to her in the booth. It was only then I noticed the ragged breathing, the stifled sobs. I stood in the doorway and watched as Bodi gently stroked her hair and encouraged her to lean on his shoulder. He spoke very softly and whatever it was he said, it seemed to cheer her up. Joey wiped the tears from her cheek with a discreet hand gesture, and he kissed her on the forehead. I smiled and walked back out, not wanting to intrude on their privacy any further.
I learned later that the scene ended on a much different note. After Bodi left to go back to work in the kitchen, Joey apparently overheard some girls from school making disparaging remarks. "Ewww!" Belinda McGovern said. "How could she let him touch her like that?" "Yeah, the next thing you know he's going to be going after her," Melissa Barry chimed in. "Which one do you think he'll get knocked up first?" Nellie Olsen laughed, loud enough for anyone in the room to hear. "The virgin or the 'hobag?" "Ick! Don't make me gag," Belinda replied with faux aristocratic disgust. "He'll probably nail both. They're so trailer park."
Joey had enough, marching to their table with clenched fists. "Don't you DARE ever say anything about my family again," she demanded, "or I'll shove that trailer up where the sun don't shine and you'll feel grateful just to feel the pain! Now…can I take your order or would you rather leave?" She indicated the door and they left promptly, too afraid and too much in shock to challenge her.
It's no wonder she rallied to Principal Green's defense when the school board threatened him with termination. Yes, she felt responsible in some way. It was the defacing of her mural that started the chain of events leading to Mathew Caulfield's expulsion and the district superintendent's ultimatum. But Joey was wise to the world now, suspecting that race had reared its ugly head in the extremity of this confrontation.
"If Principal Green was white," she asked me on camera, "would we even be here today? I don't think so. And I don't appreciate being used as a pawn to keep Capeside comfortably Caucasian. We should feel damn uncomfortable anytime something like this happens."
I already said I was proud of her, right? Sorry for the redundancy. How about pleased as punch…delighted by measure...eternally gratified…heart bursting with—OK, I have to say it again—pride. She didn't win that battle, Principal Green left. But another important lesson was learned, and Joey gained newfound confidence. She was a much stronger girl now; independence suited her.
There was another surprise in store: I didn't know she was dating a boy from Harvard, someone she'd met on an overnight visit to the school. "A.J. seems like a nice guy," Dawson told me. But Pacey seemed to bristle at the mere mention of his name. That's when I began to think that what I had seen at the opening of the Potter B&B one month earlier wasn't imagined after all.
Just like the protest rally where Pacey put out the word and brought in the folks, opening weekend at the B&B was largely choreographed by this young man so eager to please—who? He called the press, put together the fake guest list, fixed the furnace…even drove all night to pick up Bodi and bring him back. "Why do you care so much?" Mitch had asked him. I think he was too scared to admit his feelings then. But, when I look back on it, I realize the sparks were clearly flying…between both of them.
Little gestures. That's all it takes, even though Joey hadn't recognized it yet. I know her body language and moods: slumping when she's frustrated and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible; scrunching her shoulders forward when stressed out, all her tension going to her shoulders; tilting her head to the right when acting happy (or coy) for the camera—she never did like having her picture taken. But on the occasion when she was relaxed and happy, the photographs sparkled with her natural life force.
That's what I see when I look at the photos Dawson took that weekend; she's sparkling. Looking into the view finder, why couldn't he see it as well? Or did he think it was all about him? Pacey brought something new and unexpected out in Joey, he challenged her. I wish I had seen that mural. The way Pacey described it, it sounded incredible. "Very elegant, very new age," he said. Joey used to draw all the time. I haven't seen any of her work since…well, since she used to storyboard Dawson's fantasy movies—long before he ever owned a camera.
Now that camera was capturing something new. Another shift in their relationship was occurring right before his eyes and my poor, deluded, fantasy-driven son was completely oblivious.
