Joey sat on the dock sipping coffee wearing her pink terry cloth robe and slippers. She loved early mornings before the hustle and bustle of responsibility was allowed to set in. Joey treasured Sunday mornings even more these days because she did not have to work at the marina until later. Her mother loved Sunday mornings for the same reason. It was the one time that she did not have to work one of the too many draining jobs she held to provide for her daughters. Joey smiled at the thought of her mother. She had recovered from her emotional turmoil yesterday and was back to feeling close to her most favorite person.
Joey found her thoughts wandering to the person who held her yesterday. Pacey had been so kind to her yesterday. He had held her until she had no more tears left to cry. She was slightly embarrassed that he had seen her that way. He was right of course. Her decision to share a piece of her mother with him was meaningful and not one she took lightly. Joey realized she felt comfortable with this boy who used to be her nemesis. He knew her. She found herself wanting to see him; for him to see that she was OK. Joey took one last look at the creek and headed inside to get dressed.
She found him in the very first place she looked. Joey smiled at his newfound predictability. Was it that this once spontaneous nomad had become truly predictable or had he simply become predictable to her? She did not have time to consider this thought before he was greeting her from his position at the stern of True Love. "Hey Jo. How are you?"
Joey heard his question and knew he was genuinely concerned with the answer. She had broken down in front of him and he had stayed. Of course it wasn't the first time she found comfort in the presence of Pacey Witter. Joey's thoughts immediately went back to the days leading up to the worst day of her young life. After her diagnosis, Lily Potter had spent a long time in the hospital. However, when the doctors began describing her care as "palliative," she had asked to go home. She wanted to be on the creek, not in a sterile hospital room.
Joey had attended to her mother's every need day and night. She brought her ice chips and Chapstick to ease her dry mouth. She massaged lavender lotion into her hands every night in hopes that she would sleep peacefully. When Lily still felt strong enough to hold her head up, Joey had fluffed her pillow every chance she could. They read Little Women together for probably the 10th time. Only this time, Joey was responsible for all the reading because Lily had become too weak to take a turn. Joey always emphasized her mother's favorite parts that were underlined in her worn copy of the classic. Most of these had involved Josephine March, Lily Potter's most beloved literary character.
Since her mother's death, Joey had been in a constant state of rereading Little Women. It was no secret that Jo embodied many of the characteristics that Lily Potter wanted for her youngest daughter. Joey consulted Little Women as a guide that, in the absence of her mother, could help her navigate the difficult journey of adolescence. She had discovered that if she stopped reading her mother's favorite book, she would start to feel lost or unsure of herself. Joey had not done much reading last year; she was too busy with her tumultuous relationship with Dawson. When Joey had found that relationship to be surprisingly unfulfilling, she returned to Little Women.
"I'd have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I'd write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie's music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle—something heroic, or wonderful—that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream."
Joey understood that being in that particular relationship had eclipsed her individuality. That allowing the dream of a romantic relationship with the boy she had yearned for had stifled all her other dreams. She finally admitted that this was not what Jo March would have done, and was not what her mother would have wanted her to do. So Joey had ended the romantic relationship in pursuit of more. She had been proud of her decision, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt; that she wasn't still hurting.
"Hey Pacey. I'm doing pretty well, thanks. It looks like it's going to be a nice day," Joey said as she worked to stop her thoughts from going down the "Dawson Trail."
"Yes, it does," Pacey agreed as he bent over to pull out two iced teas from the cooler at his feet. He walked over to Joey who put her hand out. Pacey placed a large piece of sandpaper into her outreached hand. She gave him a look of surprise and feigned disgust. "What? You know the rules, Potter. All refreshments must be earned." Joey rolled her eyes at him.
"The refreshments really aren't worth the poor treatment. I am a skilled worker, you know." Pacey nodded his head at her, and then pointed to her spot at the bow. "Move, Witter," Joey said as she pushed him aside much harder than was necessary. Pacey grunted, but simply returned to his work. As the pair worked in a comfortable silence, Joey's thoughts returned to her mother.
Joey learned at a young age that the word "cancer" changes people. It spreads beyond even those who are immediately affected. After her mother's diagnosis, people began to look at Joey with fear in their eyes. They asked her how Lily was doing, but most didn't actually want to know. They didn't want to hear about the horrible effects cancer was having on her body. They definitely didn't want to think about 13 year-old Joey caring for her mother and her cancer-ridden body. That merely made them uncomfortable; people say thoughtless things when faced with discomfort. Joey quickly learned that it was easiest to muster a small smile and say she was fine.
She also learned that sometimes people want to be allowed to do something; it makes them feel better. Sickness and pending death make people think and feel so many things with which they would prefer not to be faced. Joey identified their feelings of powerlessness, so she would allow them to cook for the Potter family. At first Joey merely accepted the casseroles begrudgingly. Truthfully, she hated them. Before cancer had entered their lives, no one made the Potters casseroles. No one brought food when Mike Potter went to prison for drug possession the first time. The thought had not even crossed their minds because people will offer help only after they've decided that you aren't actually responsible for whatever bad thing was happening to you. Cancer was bad luck. At worst, it was bad genes. Joey knew that drug use was a completely different story. She had been carrying the weight of her father's "weak character" since she was an elementary school student. When Mike Potter went back to prison, Joey knew better than to think any one would be making her casseroles.
Dawson had of course been there for Joey throughout her mother's battle. He had always helped her verbalize her fears. On the rare night that Bessie would instruct Joey to leave the house because their mother's pain had become unbearable, Joey would always go directly to Dawson's house. She would sleep over in his bed. If he weren't home, she would wait for him inside the darkness of his closet. The Leery house was calm and predictable. It provided respite from the pain that was ever present at the Potter's house.
The rest of the Leerys had provided support as well. Mrs. Leery would come over and visit with her friend. She had insisted on cleaning the house periodically. Mr. Leery had chopped wood, so that Lily could enjoy a fire in the hearth. He had tinkered around the house doing small repairs. Mr. Leery had actually put in the dock that was still in use at the Potter's house today. Lily had requested a new one because the old one was in such poor shape. She had wanted a sturdy dock for her daughter to use when rowing across the creek to visit Dawson. Ironically, it wasn't Dawson who helped Mitch Leery put in that dock. It was a young Pacey Witter.
Joey remembered the small toolbox Pacey had carried with him to her house on those days. Pacey had been the one person who didn't treat Joey like she was a porcelain doll. He wasn't afraid of her or the pain she might cause him by acknowledging that life had been unfair to Joey Potter. Instead, he joked with her. He had teased her a little less during that time, but he still provided her with glorious distraction from the reality of her life. During the final days, when Joey began missing school, Dawson and Pacey had both visited with her after school. At Joey's request, Dawson had brought her homework and caught her up on academics, while Pacey would provide the real updates: who liked whom or who got suspended for talking back to a teacher. If the gossip mill had been slow that day, he would describe in ridiculous detail the awful food that was served in the cafeteria. Joey had often asked if any one said anything about her or her family in school, and Pacey would always create an elaborate lie to convince her that small town Capeside had already moved on from the Potter drama. Joey knew it wasn't true, but she allowed herself to pretend it was. She refused to think that her mother's last days on Earth would be marred by scandal.
During these visits, Pacey would always eat from one of the many casseroles that had been delivered. In true Pacey fashion, he had quickly begun making requests: "This one is good. See if you can get more of that ... Baked spaghetti is amazing, but we need some garlic bread. I mean, really, who eats pasta without at least a bread stick?!" So Joey had begun asking the people who asked (but didn't really want to know) how she was doing to please make the foods Pacey liked. She had hated having the casseroles in her refrigerator because it merely reminded her of what she already knew ... her mother was dying. Joey had decided that at least if they offered Pacey's favorites, then they would be helping someone because she knew that even though he rarely talked about it, life in the Witter household was not easy for its youngest member.
Thinking of Pacey brought Joey back to the present. She stopped her work on True Love and walked back to join him. "Oh Pace, I almost forgot … I brought you something," she said as she pulled out a bag of the Chex mix they had tried making together yesterday. "After you left, Bessie reminded me that my Mom used the oven, not the stove, to make her mix. I think it turned out pretty nicely."
Pacey smiled at her broadly. "Thanks, Jo," he said as he put a handful of Chex mix into his mouth. "My goodness, this is great! Beats boughten Chex mix any day." He put another large handful into his mouth.
"Boughten, Pacey?"
"Yes, boughten," Pacey responded. "You know, as opposed to home-made."
"I see you're making up words again."
"It is a word," Pacey protested.
"I assure you, it is not," Joey argued.
"Well, then it should be." Pacey handed Joey her now earned refreshment. Hey Jo?" She gave him her best 'you're ridiculous' look. "Thanks again for sharing your recipe with me."
"You're welcome, Pacey. Thanks for, you know ... Being there," Joey replied with a slight blush.
"Anytime, Potter, anytime," he responded casually trying to make her feel more comfortable. He quickly became serious though, saying, "I mean it. You can talk to me about your mother any time. I will always be honored to hear as much about her as you're willing to share."
"Sure, Pace," she said swallowing hard to keep the tears that started welling in her eyes from falling. Recognizing that she would start crying if she didn't change the topic, Joey asked, "Weren't you supposed to go to your parents' house this morning?"
"Yeah, I did," he responded succinctly.
Joey knew not to expect him to elaborate much on this particular topic, but she still felt compelled to communicate her support to him. "Look Pacey, if I'm going to tell you things about my Mom, then it's only fair that you share too. I mean, you don't have to, but I just ... I want you to know that you always can. OK?"
Pacey considered her suggestion for a moment. "I know, Jo. I know." They both recognized that this amount of sharing was plenty for two historically private people. Both of who typically responded to emotions with sarcasm, wit, and too comfortable self-deprecation. Nevertheless, their relationship had reached a point were neither was going to just sit back and allow someone to speak badly of the other; even if "someone" was the person themselves.
"This is really good, Potter. You should serve this at the B&B. Like put it in a bowl for guests or something. They will love it! Yeah, I think I'm just gonna sit here for a bit and do some more quality assurance tests. I mean, if guests are gonna be eating it, then we really need to make sure it's up to snuff." He laid back in a deck chair and continued shoving handfuls of Chex mix in his mouth.
Joey rolled her eyes. "You're really good at making up jobs for yourself, huh Witter?" She had already thought about wanting to put as much of her mom into the B&B as possible. She wasn't ready to talk about it yet, but the B&B was her mother's dream. The fact that Pacey suggested they serve her food, illustrated how much he really understood her vision. Joey really appreciated it, so she wanted to show him in a way fitting for these two. Joey walked over toward him. When she reached him, she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him innocently. Then she abruptly pushed him over and laughed as he fell to the ground.