Pacey had a new couch and a coffee table. He'd selected plates, bowls and cutlery. A dining set was on backorder, due to be delivered in a few weeks.
And while Pacey basked in a house with somewhere to sit, Joey waited each evening until almost midnight before dragging out sheets and a pillow and setting up a rudimentary bed on Bessie's couch. It had swiftly become evident that Joey was a burden. Being summer, the B&B was booked solid most nights, so Joey would have to wake early so that guests wouldn't find a strange interloper sleeping in the living room, mouth agape, while they strolled in for their morning croissant.
How long this could go on, she didn't know? Maybe there would come a time when a room would free up? Or perhaps she needed to understand that Bessie's offer of respite was temporary. Eventually, she would need to get her own place. But first, she needed a job. Her resume had been untouched for years. So she updated sections and flicked through job ads all evening. Nothing stood out, but she filled in the applications anyway, just for something to do.
Despite the fact that Dawson had run a production company, they were not flush with cash throughout their marriage. The apartment, the business, the cars were all financed by a series of loans. Every month, when it came time for the bills to be paid, Dawson would lament their situation and promise that this next movie would make the big bucks.
Feature films were a dying art form and he would not, despite all advice, branch into television. So they remained in limbo, waiting for a break that never came.
Gainful employment wasn't as much a goal as a necessity. The divorce settlement had left her with enough to get by. She'd turned down Pacey's offers of waitstaff, because she wasn't that desperate, yet.
On the flight from LA she'd imagined this new life, its vivid hues, the freedom and exploration. But dragging out the bedding each night had proved a stark reminder that this new life had yet to really start.
Joey's phone chimed to life.
Consistent texts from Jen had made her wary of checking it. Closing her laptop, she reached across and scanned the screen.
It wasn't Jen's name; it was Pacey's. They'd exchanged numbers after shopping on Saturday for 'date' planning purposes.
She read the text.
Hungry?
Was all it said.
It's 10pm. She replied.
The response was almost immediate. Does one not consume food after sundown?
One does. But one wants specifics before one replies to single word texts attempting to lure the victim with promises of sustenance.
She waited a beat before a reply pinged. Icehouse was quiet tonight. I've got empty tables and plenty of leftovers. I will also provide beverages.
Joey smiled, closing her laptop.
Be there in fifteen.
She didn't bother getting changed, just slipping on some flip-flops. Her hopes that Bessie was already in bed were dashed when she passed her slouched over invoices. Grabbing the car keys, Bessie's head snapped up.
"Where are you going?" she punctuated the shock of such a late departure by looking at her watch.
"To the Icehouse."
Bessie grinned. "So you won't be home tonight?"
Joey shrugged.
"Wherever you spend the night, I hope you have fun."
Joey pushed open the door to a nearly empty Icehouse. All the tables were cleaned and unoccupied except for a large table near the back. It was filled with women laughing and chatting, surrounded by huge pitchers of frosty drinks.
Pacey stood behind the bar, an inviting smile across his face and a dish towel slung over his shoulder.
Joey plopped onto a barstool before him.
"Evening," said Pacey.
"Hey," Joey replied. "Quiet night?"
He nodded. "Yeah, just this group. Technically, we don't close for another hour, so I sent home the rest of the staff. I can handle them."
Joey glanced over. All the women were mid thirties to forties, a few had cast covert glances in her direction.
"Are you sure about that?" she asked.
"It's a book club. Every Wednesday they come and pretend to talk about a novel, which they spend about ten minutes discussing and the rest of the time drinking and laughing. They're just happy to be away from husbands and kids."
This evening's ensemble was a purple Hawaiian shirt, embellished with fuchsia frangipanis. It was the kind of attire one struggled to make direct eye contact with, for fear of impending blindness. He wore it with the top three buttons undone.
"I'm honored to see another gem from the basement collection."
He touched the fabric, "Oh, this old thing."
When he asked what drink she wanted, she replied, "Surprise me," and he poured numerous liqueurs into a cocktail shaker with an abundance of ice. He decanted it into a tall glass with a flourish. It tasted of peaches and summer.
Joey sipped through the straw, "How's the furniture life?"
"Sitting is very luxurious. Also, plates," he made the gesture of a chef's kiss.
"I've heard."
"Although Cat Stevens has decided that I purchased the couch solely for his personal use."
"Did I tell you the other night that he came into my room and had snuggles?"
"Murder snuggles?"
"No actual snuggles. He even purred."
Pacey observed Joey as if she had blossomed both a second and third head.
"I think it must have been the neighbor's cat. Cat doesn't snuggle."
Joey laughed.
Pacey disappeared into the back and returned with three plates of food.
"Ginger pork dumplings, sriracha pan fried shrimp, bao lobster rolls."
Of course, it was all delicious. Pacey leaned against the bar, sharing the offerings until a voluptuous blonde with an empty pitcher interrupted their late night snack.
"Another Margarita, please Pacey," she rested her breasts on the counter. It propelled them upwards until the tops of the mounds spilled out from her blouse.
He obliged.
"I swear you wear those shirts just to tempt us all," the lady cooed.
Pacey added ice, tequila, and crushed some mint.
Joey said, "It's peacocking, He's trying to attract all the women, in an effort to out-compete other dominant males."
"Oh honey, everyone knows Pacey has no need to peacock."
He chuckled and placed the pitcher on the bar, handle facing towards her.
"I assure you I'm wearing this only for style. I have no desire to woo the ladies." Pacey glanced at Joey pointedly and raised his eyebrows, "Rebecca, meet Joey."
Rebecca took them in as a couple. "Well, well, well. Capeside just shed a tear. I'm not surprised. You were never going to stay on the market for long."
She bustled in return to the table, bursting with gossip.
"I'm getting the vibe that you overstated your need for a fake rebound. You seem to have a tableful of willing participants right here."
"Ha - Ha," he deadpanned, and they dug back into the platter of food.
"Okay, so I might have had an ulterior motive for you to come here tonight," he said mid shrimp.
Joey's mouth opened to a pouty O. "You didn't invite me here to feed me and bask in my glorious personality?"
"This is in addition to those."
"Sure."
"I was wondering if, as my new beau, you would accompany me to a soiree. My oldest friend, Will, is having a barbeque for his birthday."
"I didn't sign up for barbeques," she teased.
He contorted his face into something positively puppy dog-esque. Like a labrador - pleading eyes, just begging for a treat. It was adorable, and wholly unfair.
Joey narrowed her gaze. "Dispensing those kinds of faces is unsportsmanlike."
"I am not ashamed to bring out the big guns."
"Save the please-face Pace, of course I'll come."
He smiled, wide.
"Next time, you don't need to lure me here with the promise of food. Although, it is strongly recommended."
"Noted."
Rebbecca's table grew more raucous as it neared midnight. Pacey called last drinks. They collected their handbags, unopened books and trudged out the door calling thanks to Pacey and shy hellos to Joey.
On her way out, Rebecca shoved a fifty-dollar note into the top pocket of Pacey's shirt.
"Thanks Pacey, see you next week."
"Have you got designated drivers?" he asked.
Rebecca chuckled, "The poor unsuspecting husbands have come to collect us tonight."
"Well, I wish them luck."
Pacey locked the door behind them, depositing the fifty into the wait staff tip jar.
Collecting the cash drawer from the register, he disappeared out the back. Joey placed the last of the chairs up onto the tables, found the mop and bucket, and began to mop the floors.
He reappeared, watching for a moment, before retrieving another mop from the cleaning closet and beginning a section beside her.
"Does this mean I'm going to have to start paying you?" He asked as they tipped out the dirty bucket and the final checks.
"Consider it my payment for food and beverages."
They turned off the lights and Pacey locked the main doors. Outside it was dark, only a few bulbs of yellowed lights hung over the harbor. Summer had unfurled itself fully, the air sticky with heat, even at this hour.
Awkwardness lingered.
Joey knew that now was the time she should say goodbye, get in her rental. Drive home.
But she didn't.
Pacey didn't make the move, either. He just stood there, staring up at the expanse of sky, then at her.
"Can I show you something?" He asked, finally.
"Sure."
Instead of moving to his car, as she anticipated, he turned and walked behind the Icehouse, towards the marina. The water lapped tenderly at the pilings beneath them as Pacey followed row after row as though he were leading them through a maze. He eventually stopped, leaping down off the pier, landing with a thud onto a sailboat.
"Pacey!" Joey called out.
He stood on his toes and outstretched a hand in her direction.
"Is this the breaking and entering part of the evening?" she asked.
"No. It's the part where you join me on my sailboat."
Joey blinked, considering him below her on the vessel.
"Really?"
"Really."
She took his offered hand and attempted a graceful descent. He caught her with ease and led her around the deck, past the mast and the cabin entry.
"When you said you were going to show me something, I think this is the last thing I expected."
Pacey chuckled. "Joey, meet Tyche. She rarely gets out as much as she wants, but she's fabulous for a weekend adventure."
"Tyche?"
"Tyche is the Greek goddess of changed luck and fate and sailing is mostly luck. Don't get me wrong, it's a lot of skills and knowledge of weather and mechanics, but out in the ocean, you're really just in the hands of fate. Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes and let the winds carry you where they want to take you."
Joey walked the deck, taking the large wheel in both hands.
"It's nice to meet you, Tyche," she said.
"Have you ever been sailing?"
Joey shook her head. "Did you and Andie get out on the seas together?"
"Not really. You think you're going to have all the time in the world to go adventuring, but when it comes down to it. You only use it sporadically. And, well, Andie worked a lot, I worked a lot, our schedules rarely met."
"Will you keep her?" Joey asked and Pacey lay down on the deck, his back pressed against the fiberglass, and gazed up at the stars. Kicking off her shoes, Joey lay beside him, not too close to the edge, and looked up.
Cloudless, the stars sang a silent harmony in their beauty. She inhaled, trying to remember the last time she saw a night sky like that in LA.
It was never.
"I don't know," his voice strained. "I don't know if I should keep the boat. I don't know if I should keep the house, or Cat Stevens, if I should keep the Icehouse. Andie was the one who encouraged those things in me. I didn't go to college, I struggled in highschool, in my twenties. I got in trouble with the law, and made stupid fucking mistakes and did stupid things that I regret. And then I met Andie, and I had someone who supported me and thought that maybe I could do something better. And now, I'm terrified that all of that was a lie, and that I can't actually do any of those things at all."
Joey kept her eyes on the stars, giving him a moment without scrutiny.
"Pacey, what if you were all those things already? You just needed a nudge? Someone to push you that little bit, to realize your potential?" She cleared her throat. "I've only known you for a little while, Pace, but I can see that you're all those better things."
His hands rested against his chest, splayed across the frangipanis on his Hawaiian shirt.
"I'm not sure I can even afford to keep it all. We will meet with the accountants in a few weeks and discuss the final separation of assets."
"I'm sorry, Pace." Was all she could say.
"How did you know that moving here was the right thing? Did you consider staying in LA?" he asked.
"I considered it. All my friends are there. The last decade of my life has been there. I wasn't sure if returning to this area would make me feel hemmed right back into my childhood. But I realized that in LA, I wasn't myself anymore. I was apathetic. I didn't care if I woke up in the morning or not. I had to leave, to get away from him if I was to have any chance of being Joey again."
Pacey turned to face her, eyebrows threaded with concern.
"Are you scared of the future?"
She exhaled. "Terrified. Not knowing, even in the slightest, what it will look like, is frightening."
"I'm sorry you had to leave, Jo, but I'm glad you're here. Not just for the fake-rebound weird arrangement we've got going on."
"I know," she said, then added. "I applied for jobs today."
"Here?"
"Boston."
He nodded to the stars. "Someone will swoop in and hire you, Jo. They'd be crazy not to."
They lay there for some time in silence, gazing at the milky way. Eyes tracing constellations, a dot-to-dot. A breeze shifted, singing midnight and tipping them to a new day.
With a flick of his wrist, Pacey checked his watch.
"I better go. I normally give Cat Stevens his allergy medication after my shift."
Joey sat up, her head spinning. "What's he allergic to?"
"Life? Human touch? Happiness?"
She laughed.
Pacey inched himself off the deck, straightening his shirt.
"You're welcome to stay on the futon again, you know, to avoid the couch at Bessie's and keep up the ruse."
Joey didn't answer right away. Instead, walking to the mast and staring up at the pole that reached into the heavens.
"Will you take me sailing one day?" She asked instead.
Pacey dove hands into his pockets. "Just name the day."
She could almost feel the crash of waves if they left the harbor, the main sail heavy and bulbous with wind, the sun on her face.
"I'd love to stay at yours tonight," she said.
And she did.
On Pacey's futon, in his Bruins shirt, with Cat Stevens by her side, she dreamed of the ocean.
The aroma of slow roasting meats settled across the creek side location. Will and his wife, Jessica, owned a sprawling house nestled in landscaped gardens with its own private mooring.
Pacey was wearing his civilian attire. Today's ensemble was denim shorts and a pale blue button down t-shirt. Joey had put on her sundress with the cornflowers, the exact same shade as his shirt. She wished they'd conferred prior, to avoid the matchy-matchy couple faux pas.
Pacey's hand was firmly wrapped around hers, through all the bro back slapping and high school reminiscing. He was a doting fake-rebound; her drink always full, his hand always in hers, or resting on the small of her back.
He'd introduced her, just as "Joey." Not bestowing a title on their relationship to the onlookers. Their casual touch and proximity speaking in ways words couldn't.
"So this is the Joey that I've heard so much about." Will extended a hand to her.
"Does my reputation precede me?"
"It does. It takes a certain kind of woman to encourage Pacey from the depths of his own despair."
"Can you please not throw me under the bus at every opportunity?" Pacey pleaded with his friend.
Will ignored his comment, "Tell me, has he told you about the time he borrowed my father's car and returned it missing a passenger door?"
Pacey wrapped his arm around Joey's waist in an attempt to spin her away from Will. She fought against him.
Joey's smile was pure sweetness. "Oh, I haven't heard that one!"
Will was an engineer. With ruffled hair and a baby face, he dressed like he didn't know the size of his own body. Everything just a little too big on his small frame.
He was Pacey's safe haven friend. A friend with no ties to Andie, a friend he knew first. The kind that when the split happens, and the inevitable separation of friends begins, you will always keep as your own.
Joey knew this type of friend well. Will was to Pacey, as Jen was to her.
In the space of a few hours, she'd become well versed in Pacey's high school escapades. He had an affair with his English teacher at fifteen, crashed his father's police cruiser into the music building at sixteen and ended up in the overnight lockup at the county jail so many times that Doug had named a cell after him.
They recounted the stories with a jovial air of friendly ribbing, but Joey could feel him cringe with each retelling. Through these tales, his friends had formed a distinct caricature of who Pacey was.
Trouble.
After stuffing themselves to bursting with lunch and cake the adults reclined in lounge chairs facing the creek. The kids waded in the shallows, nets in their hands. Talk of mortgages and investments between the other couples continued in the background while Pacey drew tiny circles on Joey's open palm, resting on his thigh. She became so hypnotized by the patterns that she didn't hear Jessica asking her a question.
"Joey, Pacey tells me you're a writer?"
Jessica's hair was uncommonly long and incredibly red. She wore a billowy white jumpsuit that cinched in the waist and made her look as though she should be on a yacht in Monaco. Nothing about her fit with Will's aesthetic, but their interaction revealed mutual adoration.
"Yes, well, I'm an editor, but I'd love to write something of my own one day." The last thing Joey wanted was to talk about herself, in front of all these strangers.
"There are so many fabulous writing workshops out here on the Cape. People come from far and wide to do a masterclass."
Joey didn't admit that she'd considered it, but dropping five thousand dollars on a month-long course wasn't really an option.
"Look at this place, the creek, the harbor. Everything here is inspiring. You probably don't even need a course, just be out in the world."
It wasn't the worst idea. She could try to write, take a sabbatical, and get the creative juices flowing. But things like that required bravery, and Joey wasn't sure she had enough of that.
Pacey's circles continued, and he watched her as though he were reading her mind.
As the gathering dispersed, Joey and Pacey strolled out to Will's mooring dock. To one side a rowboat was tied, its surface a combination of patina and rust.
Joey sighed. "Hearing all your stories of wild adventure makes me realize I spent my entire teenage years studying. I was too busy being perfect, and stressing myself out with GPAs that I never did anything crazy, or anything at all, really."
"Surely teenage Joey did some things that drove poor Bessie insane?" he asked.
Mulling it over, Joey said, "According to Bessie, the worst thing I ever did was dare to have sex with my boyfriend at seventeen. She preached abstinence because as far as she was concerned, one underage, unwed mother in the family was more than she was prepared to handle."
"Was that boyfriend your future husband?" he asked.
Joey nodded.
"Didn't you ever get drunk, go to parties?"
"I had three beers at Dawson's eighteenth birthday party. For someone who never drank, three beers was more than enough to make me hurl in the potted Chrysanthemum outside my mother-in-law's house."
"Sounds like a real rager," he teased.
She leaned against him, delivering a gentle shove for his comment, but her eyes were creased with a playful smile.
Pacey's face grew stoic. "What about kissing boys you shouldn't?"
Joey's stomach lifted as if she was in a jet, taking off from the runway. Her eyes traveled to the water and away from Pacey's face.
"No."
She didn't elaborate any further, and he asked no more questions.
"I know that on the surface, those things that you did as a teen you're probably embarrassed about, Pace, but they really just show that you've lived. You've got these amazing stories and memories. I've got a degree and my masters, but that's it. "
Pacey chuckled. "Really, Jo. The grass is always greener. I would have skipped the regular Friday nights in the lockup for college if I had my time again."
"I know. I shouldn't complain."
"It's never too late to do something about it. It's just you now. Your life is your own. Go skydiving, scuba with sharks, or holiday in Costa Rica with the monkeys. Just because you're not eighteen doesn't mean you can't do crazy things."
The air was wet with humidity. Joey glanced up at the dregs of the party. Will and Jessica were the only ones left, packing away the chairs and cleaning the barbeque. The children had gone inside.
Below them the water was calm, clear, inviting.
"I want to be crazy," she said.
"So do it, Jo," he challenged.
Turning towards him, she paused for a beat before taking a step forward, face to face with Pacey. Reaching out, she took the top button of his shirt and slipped it through its hole. Then, she moved down to the next, and the next, and the next.
"Umm?" is all he could mumble out, watching her undress him in shaky breaths. Completely undone, she pulled the sides apart, dragging the sleeves down his arms. He stood in awe, unsure of what was happening, but pliant and intrigued nonetheless. Everything she'd remembered from him shirtless in his room was even better in the daylight. The broadness of his pectorals, the trail of hair leading down to the V below his shorts.
Grasping the hem of her dress, she tugged it over her head, dropping the fabric in a lump beside his shirt. She wished she had some foresight to wear matching underwear, not just a plain white bra and red panties.
"What are you doi-" he started, but before he could finish, Joey leaped from the deck into the cool water below. She disappeared for a few moments, lost in the soundlessness.
Surfacing with a swoop of hands over her face, she sculled water and peered up at Pacey.
"Jump in, I dare you."
He didn't need to be dared.
Dropping his shorts down to boxer briefs, a splash covered Joey's face as Pacey gracefully bombed only feet from her.
Face dripping, he swam close to her, "Joey Potter, you harp on about my Hawaiian shirts, but clearly your fundamental problem has been stifling your desire to undress me from them all this time."
Laughing, Joey replied, "You wish."
"So jumping from the dock is your crazy act of the day? The new Joey Potter? Joey Potter 2.0? Joey Potter revenge of the Divorcee? "
"I'm not sure yet. I might do more."
"Is that so?"
"Well, consider me here for it. Skydiving isn't for me, but I'll try just about anything once. If it's really stupid, I'll probably do it twice."
His hair, darkened and wet, stuck to his temples as he paddled around her in a circle, keeping his mouth below water. Spinning on the spot, Joey kept her eyes on him.
"You're like a shark," she said.
He mumbled underwater in the affirmative before raising his chin. "Swimming with sharks is pretty crazy."
Giggling nervously, Joey tried to swim away, but his circling only followed her. Taking a deep breath, he disappeared below the surface, into the darkness.
She spun around, trying to see where he'd gone, to calculate his descent. When and where she thought he'd appear, he didn't.
Panic set in. Just as she was sure that no one could possibly hold their breath for that amount of time, hands grasped her waist and she screamed. Pacey burst from the water, sucking in lungfuls of air.
"You're a shit," she flipped him the bird.
Pacey chuckled, keeping his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter, and gently bit the tip of her shoulder.
"Hey!"
"I'm a shark, remember?" he whispered.
His teeth in her flesh and the tenor of his voice made her cold body suddenly engulfed in heat.
Yelling came from the land. "Are you guys okay?" Will was calling out, Jessica looking concerned by his side.
"We're fine!" boomed Pacey, not taking his eyes off Joey.
Now they had an audience. Jessica and Will observing their dalliance. It should be nothing out of the ordinary - a new couple, unable to keep their hands off each other.
Joey linked her arms around Pacey's neck, bringing their faces inches apart. Then, when he was close, she opened her legs and wrapped his hips, locking at the ankles as they floated together.
Shallow breaths escaped as she focused on the droplets of water that skated over his brow, past his cheeks, down to the corner of his lips. Looking into his eyes was near impossible. They were so dark.
Jessica started towards them, carrying towels. As she crossed the lawn, it was now or never.
Gripping his back tighter, Joey drew his body in until it was completely flush with hers. He was hard. She could feel his want pressed right against her core.
"Is she watching?" Joey murmured.
Pacey had barely acknowledged Jessica's impending arrival and just mumbled, "uh huh."
"Good," whispered Joey and bent down to nuzzle into his neck. She ran her lips from the space below his ear, down to his collarbone and back up again. The skin was a mixture of stubbled and unbearably soft.
Pacey was an underwater statue, regarding her with curiosity and shock.
Impulsively she ground hips in a circle against him and he murmured an expletive under his breath. His hands gripped her ass to stop her.
As though she had no control of her body, she did it again. Through their underwear his cock slid against her clit and it was her turn to mutter profanities.
"Did you fall in or jump?" Jessica asked, standing above them.
They broke apart, sculling water again, flushed faces peering up.
She saw the discarded clothes and realized it was intentional.
"It's so beautiful and refreshing," Joey lied.
It was an inferno, she had to get out.
She swam to the ladder and heaved herself from the water.
"Here are some towels. You're welcome to have a shower inside."
"Thanks!" said Joey, wrapping herself in egyptian cotton. Pacey remained in position in the water.
"You guys go up to the house," he said, "I'll have a bit more of a swim and meet you there soon."
The women walked across the grass together, Joey's wet skin prickling with goosebumps.
When they got to the door, Joey dared herself to glance back. Even from a distance, she could see him in the shallows, watching her. They locked eyes for a moment before he plunged beneath the surface.