Fried food cured all ills. Joey propelled oil glistened fries into her mouth straight from the paper bag as Pacey pulled out of the drive-through. Big Macs, fries, and coke with more ice than liquid were the salty salve to dampen even the worst of hangovers. Pacey followed the turns that led them towards the Cape. The traffic was light for a Sunday evening. He drove one-handed, a burger in his grip, taking bites while Joey occasionally held up his cup and he reached for the straw open-mouthed for a sip.
They were quiet for most of the journey, just watching the sun begin its descent. It flamed golden, then a moody russet, before settling into black.
"Do you want to come back to my place, or go to Bessies?" Pacey asked, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. Despite the exaggerated announcement to Jen, there had been no official discussion of the breach in the carefully curated walls of the rebound arrangement.
The tension that they released in the darkest hours of the evening swelled like a rising tide in Joey. Its release had been temporary, fleeting, lacking the rawness of touch.
"I should probably get some more clean clothes," Joey replied.
"Gotta be honest," said Pacey, glancing in his rearview before overtaking a Dodge Ram. "Don't think you're going to need clothes."
Joey rolled her eyes, but still clenched her thighs together.
"Fine. Fine. We'll stop. If we must."
They pulled up to the B&B, entering without knocking.
Bessie glanced up from whisking batter in a large mixing bowl, eyebrows raised. "Who are you ?"
"Ha-ha," said Joey.
"Are you the person who left a giant suitcase and a laptop taking up precious room at the foot of my bed? Because I haven't seen that person in days. I figured they'd run away and eloped or something."
"Eloping weeks after your divorce is official, that sounds like a recipe for success," Joey deadpanned, bestowing an apology hug to her sister from behind, forcing Bessie to grip the bowl to save dropping it.
"But seriously, Jo, you look different."
Pacey held up his hands in atonement. "Sorry I stole her away, Bess. We had a big weekend. There were piña coladas to be drunk and dance floors that required feet for boogieing."
"Don't forget strippers to ogle," Joey added.
Bessie smirked. "I take it the Bachelor Party was a resounding success?"
"If your measure of success is that Jack almost required hospitalization, then yes," replied Pacey.
"Poor Jack. Did you get to meet Drunk Joey?"
Joey shot a warning glare at Bessie while Pacey collected a small pile of chocolate chips awaiting the batter and dropped them into his mouth one at a time. He grinned through the chocolate, swallowed the mouthful, and said, "Drunk Joey is, without a doubt, one of my favorite people in the contiguous United States."
"How can one drunk girl compete with the offerings of Hawaii and Alaska?" Joey gave a crooked grin.
"Don't forget Guam," he added.
"Bess, we're not here to crash your Sunday evening plans. I thought I'd just stop by and collect clean clothes."
Bessie huffed, "So you're abandoning me again? You fly all the way out from the West Coast and are lucky to spend a week here before finding far superior digs. Whatever, I get that Pacey's place is more comfortable than the couch. Can't say I blame you."
Pacey wandered over and plopped his weight on the couch, kicking his feet up on the edge. Bessie let go of the whisk just long enough to redirect his feet with a decisive slap.
"I don't know. It is a good-looking couch." He smacked the cushions behind his head, plumping them up.
"Don't suck up, Witter. You stole my sister away. I was really looking forward to all that free labor. But instead of making beds and cleaning toilets, she's out gallivanting with the town's barkeep," Bessie teased.
"Let's not forget that the moment you heard that your divorced sister was heading East, you simply couldn't wait to tell me she would be perfect for me, even though I was still licking my wounds post-breakup."
"Perfect? Surely I didn't say perfect? I was just trying to make two wrongs into a right. Do my part for the good of the universe, turning sad people into happy people and all that."
Joey watched her sister and Pacey like a tennis replay before saying, "Were you guys this painful before I came to town?"
Bessie and Pacey glanced at each other and shrugged simultaneously.
"I only tolerate him for his pastries," a dimple cracked on Bessie's cheek.
Pacey had been supplying the Potter B&B with fresh croissants and pain au chocolat prepared by the Icehouse's talented pastry chef for years now. Bessie spent many mornings opening the door to Pacey's face above a large pink box filled with layers of crisp flour and butter.
"Seriously, I don't know what Joey's complaining about. I'm not sure that I'd stretch to the word comfortable, but it's tolerable." He rested his arms behind his head, closing his eyes.
Bessie sighed with mock indignation, "my priorities are keeping my guests comfortable, not interlopers."
While Pacey pretended to sleep, Joey rifled through her suitcase, collecting clean underwear, a bra, and shorts, stuffing them into her handbag.
"Are you training for the Boston marathon?" Bessie queried as Joey briskly walked back to the door.
"No," Joey caught her breath, glancing at Pacey.
"What's the rush?"
"No rush."
"Says the woman sprinting out the door."
"We have plans tonight," Joey brushed it off. At the word plans, Pacey stretched dramatically and hauled his backside off the couch.
"It's after 9 pm on a Sunday in Capeside. The entire town has been closed for hours. You could stay here and hang out?"
Joey glared at Bessie, begging her with the entirety of her sisterly telekinesis to just take the hint.
"Fine. Fine. Go. Run off. Enjoy whatever it is that you're doing that I most definitely do not want details of."
Joey clasped her hands together in a thankyou prayer behind Pacey and nudged her sister on the departure. "I'll save up all the juicy details for another time."
Bessie covered her ears, "dear god, no."
"Later, Potter. Thanks for the nap, and the chocolate and your sister-" Pacey called out to Bessie as Joey hauled him out the door.
They bundled into the car with the collection of fresh clothes and they drove to Pacey's house in silence. Joey should've been tired. All day she'd drifted in and out of a sleep-deprived delirium, but she suddenly felt wide awake.
Eyes leveled back and forth with only the gear stick separating them. They stood on a precipice for almost a week now, sampling each other in snack-sized bites. The main course approached.
Pacey's front door took an annoyingly long time to unlock. Joey's bag fell to the floor with a thump. Every move was an impatient scramble, each step an eternity.
Restraint. All day long. Restraint in the morning when they were woken by Jen's orders for breakfast together. Restraint in agonizing moments, packing up the hotel room, driving to the airport, driving home again.
Pacey locked the door, and they were alone. Blissfully alone for the first time in days.
"So…"
"So?"
Joey turned to him in the lounge and he kissed her. It had been hours since she had alcohol, but his lips made her drunk all over again. Knees weak, senses impaired. He was gentle, tentative in the way his hand slipped into her hair and he tilted his head ever so slightly, as though she were delicate and breakable.
"Today seemed like a million years," he said and she responded by kissing him deeper, mouths colliding in messy desperation. Joey pressed against his body until his calves hit the couch and he fell backward. Hips pinned with her thighs wrapped around him, his hands lifted her shirt. Pacey thrust upward, his hard-on pressing against her core. It felt like those moments in the creek with a shark, only clothes separating them.
She straightened, looking down at him, auburn hair tumbling down over her shoulders. He watched her from below, eyes glittering.
In a single movement, she removed her shirt and dropped it onto the floor. Then, reaching behind her back, unclasped her bra. Warm hands cupped her breasts immediately, long fingers caressing pink nipples.
"Take off your pants," Pacey growled and Joey stood to obey, shimmying her shorts down. He sat up on the couch, pulling her toward him, his beard resting against her belly, his fingertips exploring milky thighs.
Her sex was in his face and he pulled her closer, her legs opening to let his tongue sneak through and sample her.
It was all the almost touches culminating into the first taste and it was apocalyptic. Joey's knees buckled, but he grabbed the flesh of her ass cheeks to keep her upright. His tongue felt like ecstasy, like thousands of nerve endings sparking.
His other hand gently parted her thighs, and his finger entered her. He slid it in, and out, twirling it deeper, faster, reveling in the changes to her body with the change in tempo. Joey whimpered, fisting his hair between her fingers. His tongue danced, sucking and swirling, while effortlessly leading her to the brink.
There was little Joey could do to hold on to her faculties. The room spun and swam and faded to nothingness as his tongue continued its assault on her. Her toes tingled, then her knees, blooming an orgasm to life that left her boneless.
He pulled back, lips glistening.
"Take off your clothes," said Joey. It was her turn now. Pacey obliged, tugging off his shirt and shorts, leaving them on the carpet beside hers. He pulled a condom from his pocket and dropped it on the coffee table.
At that moment, Cat Stevens sauntered into the living room as if casually monitoring the presence of humans in his territory. His black eyes observed their naked forms with boredom, he raised a paw to his mouth and began a diligent self-grooming routine.
"Cat, OUT!" Pacey yelled.
Cat did not move. He simply lifted the other paw for fastidious cleaning.
Joey strolled over, completely nude, lifted a stunned Cat before he knew what was happening, and dropped him into the laundry room, closing the door. His enraged whines echoed through the walls.
"Now, where were we?" She stalked back to Pacey, took his lips, and made them her own before unwrapping the condom and slowly rolling it down the length of his cock. Crawling into his lap, she hovered over him, the tip drawing lines around her opening.
Slowly, he pushed himself inside, Joey's legs wrapping around his hips. Pacey's eyes met hers, seeping into her soul, and he let out an involuntary gasp as he sunk all the way in.
As his slow thrusts became faster, pleasure darted in ripples through Joey's limbs. His body exuded heat which she could feel deep in her belly, his nude chest against her own. All the touch that was absent from the night before communicated in endlessly roving hands and lips, unable to part.
Joey rode each thrust, meeting his rhythm, increasing it. This first act of consummation was borne of desperation. There would be time later for leisurely exploration.
Pacey's palms gripped her hips. His breathing was ragged. Their bodies slapped together until Joey broke her lips from his and arched her back, eyes locked onto his.
"I'm going to come. Come with me, Pace."
He replied with a groan, keeping the momentum until Joey's legs shook and her orgasm sparked through her veins.
Pacey cried out her name, his eyes holding hers as he came inside her.
She fell forward, sticky, heaving chests plastered together. His hands wandered through her hair.
"Best hangover cure, ever," Joey mumbled into his neck. His jaw lifted into a smile before his short beard grazed across her cheek and he kissed her again.
When the night was at its darkest, Pacey got up and went to the bathroom. Joey stayed in place.
"Pace," she said when he returned, her voice clearer than it should be for this hour. They lay face to face in his sheets, inches apart but unable to see each other.
"Yeah?" he said, groggy from sleep.
"I got a job interview. A good one." Confessions seemed easier at 2 am, under the protection of nightfall.
"That's awesome, Jo. What is it for?"
"It's in publishing. Editor."
"It's just what you wanted, right?" He asked.
She nodded into the dark. "It's on Tuesday."
"Okay."
"It's in Boston."
She wished to see his face, but it was shrouded in darkness. His arm was draped around her waist, fingers drawing circles on her lower back.
"Of course. Who knows if I'll get it? There are probably a dozen other applicants. But I just thought I'd let you know." She didn't know who she was trying to convince that it wasn't a big deal, Pacey or herself.
"Do you need a ride there?" he asked.
"No. I can take the rental, it's early. I know you have a busy week at the Icehouse."
His lips brushed against her forehead and whispered, "You'll smash it out of the park."
She didn't answer, just laying there wrapped around his naked form listening as his shallow breaths became heavier and he settled into the telltale slump of sleep.
Pacey played a blue three on a yellow three.
"I've never really considered UNO foreplay before."
"It's not foreplay. It's a distraction technique," said Joey, laying down a blue skip and earning herself a second turn. Blue seven.
"Then why am I turned on?" Pacey raised his eyebrow, playing a blue draw two.
Joey scowled and collected the additional cards. "No comment."
"No comment because you're also turned on, or because I'm winning?" Pacey played a wild, glanced at his cards, and said, "red."
His eyes told her she was dessert, a rich mud cake. Strawberries. Cream. He licked his lips.
Joey squeezed her thighs together and shuffled her fist of cards into a semblance of order, locating a red eight and flicking it onto the deck. Cat Stevens sat perched on the coffee table between them as if he was also a player in the game. Joey had dealt him seven cards along with theirs and he'd sniffed them briefly and chosen instead to sit and stare.
"No comment because I'm concentrating very hard on not being turned on right now. Pace, all I'm asking is for an hour break from the bedroom to recuperate. I need to be able to walk for my interview tomorrow."
Pacey smirked. Red nine.
Their first day alone had been a lesson in pleasure - classes took place in the bedroom, the kitchen, and the lounge room. After sharing a hot, soapy shower, Joey had declared a temporary hiatus. They needed a distraction, something to do with their hands to keep them off each other. She searched through bare cupboard after bare cupboard until a deck of UNO cards rested, forgotten, on a shelf in the linen closet. The game looked like an original set, the box long destroyed and now the lump of cards was held together with a fat rubber band.
They were worn, each corner separating into minute layers of cardboard. Some looked as though they'd once been submerged underwater, others seemed as though they'd been folded like origami and then flattened.
Pacey watched Joey inspecting the condition of the cards. "These were the Witter family deck. We played a lot as kids."
"It looks like the games got heated," she replied. Green nine.
Pacey chuckled, drawing a card from the deck. "They did. The Witters are nothing if not a competitive bunch. If Doug happened to have dealt himself a fortuitous hand, I was known to take my anger out on the deck."
"I understand the logic of game-based rage. I myself was never a great loser."
"Joey Potter, I wouldn't have taken you for a sore loser. Games are intrinsically linked to written rules, you should have been in your element."
She played a green four. "With absent parents and no one to congratulate you on your success, you seek it out in academic form. This creates a situation where you must be the best at everything, meticulously perfect and right all the time. Because if you don't have parents to notice you, you must seek attention from teachers, principals, or any adult available, really. And a game of colors and numbers and chance doesn't really leave much room for displays of superior intellect."
Pacey played a green seven and then rested his hand on Joey's. "The reasons you hated it were the reasons I loved it. Doug could get all the A's he wanted, but in UNO or board games, he was ruled by the roll of the dice or the luck of the draw. The ultimate leveler, a game where all siblings can compete on even ground."
"UNO; fostering family dysfunctionality and sibling rivalry since the seventies," said Joey, playing a green two.
"Really, they should put that on the box."
Pacey put down a green eight.
"Are all of your family going to be at the wedding?" Joey asked, drawing a card from the deck, fresh out of green cards.
Pacey nodded, also collecting one from the deck.
"Should I be afraid?" Joey asked, pulling up a green four and playing it.
"I think a mild terror should suffice," he said, picking up a draw four, placing it on the top triumphantly.
Joey stuck a tongue out at him before assembling the penalty cards in her hands. "Surely not. I mean, Doug's a great guy, and look at you," she wiggled her eyebrows. "The Witter family can't be that bad."
He chuckled, unconvinced. "Don't be so sure. Much of the success of the day will hinge on controlling the units of alcohol my dad consumes. Mom will circulate through the crowd, claiming to be a 'gay ally' while simultaneously loudly commenting that she can't believe her first-born son is marrying a man. Kerry inherited the alcoholic gene, so she will nurse a never-ending glass of wine, ignore her teenage children, and dance with anyone who isn't her asshole husband. Gretchen is nice. You'll like her. She's arguably the least annoying of the motley crew, and that includes Doug and yours truly."
"I'm sensing you're not looking forward to the wedding as a family reunion?"
"The fewer occasions that the Witter family are forced into proximity, the better."
"Do you talk to your parents much normally?" Joey asked.
"It's safer to stick to obligatory calls on birthdays."
Joey hesitated, picturing the awkward scenes at the wedding. "Do they know why you and Andie split?"
Pacey nodded.
Joey bit her lip, "Maybe it's not a good idea if I'm there." She organized her hand in color order.
He put his cards facedown on the coffee table. Cat reached over and swiped a paw at them. "Jo, please come. Between catering for the event, best man duties which include writing a speech I haven't begun, my parents, Andie and Leonardo Frazer MD, your presence will be the only thing keeping me from hauling ass out of there, dropping the mainsail on Tyche and heading for the Florida Keys."
"Relax, Pace, I'll be there," she shuffled on her knees around the coffee table and curled into his lap. "I will be there, Pace. The token weird, out-of-towner rebound everyone stares at while speculating why Pacey Witter moved on so fast."
"They will take one look at you and they'll understand." His arms wrapped around her waist, grazing his lips on the tip of her shoulder. "Please tell me. Can we finish this game and go back to the bedroom?"
Joey picked up his pile of cards, looking at his hand, then reached across and checked her own.
"Based on my calculations, I would have won this round."
"So?"
"Will you count it as a win?" she asked.
He kissed her neck and collarbone with sultry lips. "I will do anything you say. If you think it's a win, it's a win."
"Say it…" she warned.
"Joey Potter, you won at UNO. You are the master, the supreme leader, the high priestess, the tsarina of UNO."
"You forgot goddess," she teased.
Pacey's eyes darkened. "There is no doubt in my mind that you are nothing short of a goddess, Joey Potter."
"Will my loyal subject take me to the boudoir and ravage me?"
Pacey groaned, "I thought you'd never ask."
He inched out from under her, leaned down, and scooped her into his arms. Cat sauntered away, as though he couldn't possibly stay to observe the spectacle.
Joey left Capeside with the sunrise, before the heat had set in and had to grab a cardigan for the first time in weeks. Pacey stayed in bed, sleeping soundly. She said a quiet goodbye to Cat standing vigil by the window in the lounge. On the drive, she stopped for a coffee and bagel, listening to Stevie Nicks sing about the edge of seventeen while she dusted her clean clothes with an abundance of crumbs.
Old Joey would rehearse her answers to standard interview questions. She would hone her spiel about why she wanted this job, and craft five-point responses to her greatest strengths and weaknesses, but not today. Today, she gripped the steering wheel, hands at ten and two, and drove and sang. Part of her refused to get excited about the prospect of this career and she had resigned to let what will be, be.
That was until she'd parked the car and advised her name at reception.
"You can take a seat. They shouldn't be too long," the woman said with a warm smile and lengthy lilac nails. Joey's heart rate increased exponentially. Why hadn't she practiced? She was wholly unprepared for a job of this caliber, and now she hadn't even considered basic answers to the most simple questions.
Her foot tapped at a frantic pace, her printed CV felt slippery in her hands.
They didn't even give her time for a full meltdown before a young woman with pin-straight hair and blue glasses strolled down the hallway and sang out, "Joey Potter?"
Joey raised her hand as though she were in school, following the woman down the hall.
Despite her lack of preparation, the interview had progressed significantly better than she expected. Her fingers stopped trembling after the fifteen-minute mark along with the need to aggressively wiggle the ankle of her crossed leg.
Joey sat in a typical computer chair behind a typical conference desk in a room that boasted sweeping views of Boston's skyline. They were on the 33rd floor overlooking Boston Common and Back Bay.
"Can you tell us where you see yourself in five years?" Blue Glasses asked, one of the three women sitting across the table from her. One was scribbling notes, the other's pen levitated in the air awaiting her response, and the third - Blue Glasses was resting back, brow slowly creasing.
It was a standard interview question. If you read Interviews for Dummies, it was line one item one, but it took Joey aback.
She folded and refolded her hands.
"Um," she hesitated.
"Take your time," Levitated Pen said.
Joey's mind was blank, a dark cave with nothing inside. Bats floated around in the abyss, but she couldn't find the answer.
"Honestly, I'd be happy with any career in publishing," she stumbled out. The faces before her that had been listening intently with promising nods seemed underwhelmed by her response.
Scribbling Notes crossed out a line, and Joey panicked.
"Can I add something?" Joey asked.
They nodded in unison.
"Sorry, the question just threw me a little. As you know, I've just moved from the West Coast. I'm recently divorced and sleeping on my sister's couch. I'm not sure I'm in a position to answer the five-year question meaningfully, because in the last few weeks everything I've known has been turned on its head." She took a breath. "I've spent many years in the same role, and don't get me wrong, I loved it. But I'm excited for a change, I'm excited about the prospect of a new challenge. I realize this position is only temporary, but I think it could be an excellent jumping-off point, an opportunity to develop my skills in the publishing industry. And hopefully, in the long term, other positions in this firm may become available, and I might have the opportunity to contribute in another role."
Blue Glasses smiled. "Thank you for your honesty."
Levitated Pen placed her notepad down on the desk. She seemed to be the leader of the interview pack or at least the chief decision maker. A brief flick of eyes between the other ladies confirmed something between them.
"I'm going to level with you, Josephine. We're in a bind. As you know, this is a maternity leave fill position that was supposed to start in a few months. Our expecting mother slash editor has now been ordered into bed rest, so we're now needing to fill this rather urgently."
"I understand," said Joey.
"We need to speak with HR, but hypothetically, how quickly could you start?" she asked.
"I'm available immediately."
Pen Scratcher wrote something and circled it. The women glanced at each other, conferring without words. There was a subtle head nod from each of them.
"Great. We have reviewed your work and have already spoken to your references. In our opinion, you would be an excellent fit for this position."
"Well, it would be a dream."
Blue Glasses said, "Our plan is to finalize this hire by the end of the week, so we will get in touch with you soon to let you know the outcome. It's been a pleasure meeting with you today, Josephine."
Joey took their outstretched hands and shook them. "Please, call me Joey."
She floated down the hallway, forgetting that she wanted to glance out of the floor to ceiling windows and take in the view. Instead, she found herself in the elevator, tapping the basement button in quick hits and resting her body against the back wall.
It felt like relief, like excitement. They hadn't given a definitive yes, but it had seemed promising.
Normally, this kind of news would have her running to inform Dawson, Jen, or Bessie. But for the first time, the person she wanted to tell, more than anyone, was Pacey.
The Tuesday afternoon patronage at the Icehouse was minimal. Scattered tables were occupied with groups enjoying a coffee and cake. Joey pushed through the doors to the exquisite chill of the air conditioning, and Mel gave her a knowing smile.
"Pacey's out the back, in the office," she said, flicking a thumb towards the staff area.
Joey wandered down the small hallway off the kitchen to his office and gently rapped against the door.
"Come in," he called out.
She entered, grinning as he sat behind his laptop, papers surrounding him in the cramped, windowless room. One wall was entirely filled with staff lockers that were covered in stickers with hastily written names scrawled across the front.
"Oh, hey," he said, looking down at the papers.
Joey pulled at her best interview blouse. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
He flipped the pages he was reading upside down and Joey stared at the blank white side.
"Is this you coming to rescue me from the monotony of the weekly orders?" He rested back in his chair and went for casual, but his movements were stiff, his eyes haunted.
"Alas, I was just stopping by to let you know I survived the interview and the drive."
He bit the end of his pen. "How did it go?"
Joey shrugged. "Okay. I should know more in a few days."
"Just okay?" he asked.
She hesitated. "Only time will tell."
"Did you get a good vibe from the place?"
Nodding, she sat on the edge of his desk, picking up a stapler and gently pressing it together like crocodile jaws. Despite her earlier excitement, now, in person, she didn't want to talk about the interview with him, and he didn't press the matter. Try as she might, her eyes kept drifting back to the paper he was so quick to hide.
"I'm going to be here until late," he frowned. "Pete was skateboarding, fell, and broke his foot. And Marnie's great-grandmother died."
"Is this your way of asking me to wait tables?"
Pacey chuckled and began tapping the keys of the keyboard, but not pressing them down. "No. I think once we added sex into the equation, paying you would confuse things."
"Money or no money, it's still a hard no," Joey cracked open the mouth of a stapler, took the row of staples out of the magazine, flipped it, and put it back in.
Pacey glanced at his screen, then at Joey.
"How was Boston?" He tried to return to talk about Joey's interview.
"Same as always," she replied.
"For an editor, your grasp on descriptive answers is subpar."
She rolled her eyes. "The buildings were resplendent in the morning sun."
"Better," he smiled, but it was brittle.
"I might crash at Bessie's tonight," said Joey, putting down the stapler and straightening it on the table. "She's clearly missing my company, and it sounds like you'll be here late."
There was a long pause.
"Okay," said Pacey.
"Well, I'll chat to you tomorrow," Joey lifted her backside off the desk, giving him a moment to find the Pacey she knew, the one she'd spent the last few days wrapped around.
That Pacey didn't appear. He went back to typing.
She walked out the door.
Bessie made meatloaf for dinner. It was a formative memory, the brown lump sitting on a plate every Thursday night accompanied by over-boiled vegetables. Bessie, suddenly a parent to a teen at such a young age, had only mastered a rudimentary handful of recipes. Thankfully, her skills had improved over the years.
After they finished, Joey offered to clean the dishes, filling the sink with scalding water and an abundance of bubbles.
Bessie stood beside her with a tea towel draped over her shoulder and an intent look on her face.
"Did you know you're a local celebrity? I've had a few people ask me about you lately," said Bessie.
"Why would they ask about me? "
"Because believe it or not, Joey, a place like Capeside finds a new woman in town particularly interesting. That interest doubles if she's beautiful and happens to be sleeping with a recently split local bar owner."
Joey dunked a plate below the water and shook her head. "It's really not that big of a deal."
"Gossip around here is few and far between."
"Why aren't they gossiping about Andie? About what she did to Pacey?"
"They did, trust me. But they've moved on. You are a much more interesting story."
"Well, I don't want to be an interesting story. I'm not an interesting story." Joey dropped the clean plate onto the dish rack with an abundance of force. Bessie caught it before it jumped out and crashed to the floor.
"Well, apparently you danced on Pacey's bar at the bachelor party. That sounds pretty interesting."
Joey's head whipped around to Bessie. "You've got to be kidding me?"
"It's ridiculous, I know, but I think people are just looking out for Pacey."
"Andie made it very clear that there was talk about me, about Pacey moving on too quickly."
Bessie's eyes were wide. "You spoke to Andie?"
"Yes. Because of course, she wants to mend things with Pacey. But you need to know that I don't want any of this. I didn't want to get between a man and his ex. I didn't want to be the talk of the town. Leaving LA was supposed to give me a break, to give me space to breathe. This thing with Pacey is just a fling. It's temporary. The last thing I wanted was to be the subject of gossip and small-town drama. It's got an expiration date."
Bessie listened to her rant while simultaneously drying the plate well beyond its drying point. Joey dumped the last of the plates onto the rack.
"Do you want it to have an expiration date?" Bessie asked.
Joey didn't answer. Their clause amendment had been to add sex into the equation, nothing more, nothing less. While actually rebounding had blurred the already messy lines, there was no reason to believe it would continue past their original agreement.
Bessie put the plate away and said, "Andie is a well respected doctor here. Despite what happened with Pacey she has a lot of loyal clients, she really is a lovely person. She made a mistake. We all do."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Nothing. I'm just explaining-"
"Let me guess, I should step back and let them repair things?"
"I didn't say that!"
Joey dumped the cutlery into the water, and it hit the bottom of the basin with a clang.
"Can I make an assumption?" Bessie queried.
"I think you're going to, regardless of my answer."
"Maybe you feel for Pacey something more than just a rebound?"
Joey thought about his demeanor at the Icehouse, about the pages he hid from her view.
"I've only known him for a few weeks."
"So?"
"So I'm not about to overthink a casual fling and you shouldn't either. Let people say what they want about me, about us. It's all speculation, anyway."
Joey cleaned the last items in the murky liquid, pulled the plug, and the waterline began its slow fall. She turned towards her couch, hands dripping puddles on Bessie's floor.
"Joey, I didn't mean to stick my nose in. I just thought you'd want to know."
"It's fine."
"Joey-" Bessie called out, but Joey grabbed her toiletries case, and a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. Yanking on the hot tap she stripped to her bra and underwear and sat on the edge of the bathtub, her head falling into her hands.
A little after midnight, when no noises came from the guest rooms, Joey bookmarked her chapter and fished the linen out of the closet. She flicked the sheet across the couch and puffed a blanket, crawling beneath.
After her shower, she'd apologized to Bessie, but was unable to articulate the reasons for her outburst. Bessie didn't press her any further and repaired Joey's mood with their original VHS tape of Sixteen Candles, recorded directly from the television.
They sat side by side reciting lines and reminiscing one of the few shared interests from Joey's teen years. Bessie wished her goodnight and went to bed, readying herself for the early morning wake-up.
Joey's phone buzzed with a message from Pacey.
You awake?
She hesitated before answering. Sleeping isn't really high on the priority list when on Bessie's couch.
He didn't reply for a few minutes. Just as Joey gave up and threw her phone beside the couch to sleep, it buzzed again.
I'm sorry I was an asshole. I'm outside if you'd like to join me.
Joey heard the distant sounds of a car engine. Then nothing. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and quietly unlocked the door, peering out.
Pacey strolled down the driveway, one hand deep in his pocket the other holding a small container. She tiptoed out to the porch barefoot and met him on a patch of grass, wet with dew.
"Hey," he smiled, relief in his tone.
"Hey."
"I just finished up. I couldn't go home." He handed her the container- a peace offering. "Beignets, fresh ones."
She inclined her head to the dock and walked, he followed. At the end she crouched down and sat, legs dangling over the edge. He sat beside her, close.
"I missed you," he said.
"You saw me nine hours ago," she cracked open the box, fished out the powdered dessert, and took a bite. Icing sugar rained down like snow.
"I know."
Joey looked at Pacey's Hawaiian shirt in the darkness. It was hard to make out the colors in the dark, but it seemed a deep burgundy with beige surfboards. He scratched at his forearms, looking tired and uneasy.
"I'm sorry about earlier," he said, surveying the water.
"It's okay."
Pacey faced her. "It's not."
Frogs croaked and mosquitoes buzzed in a chaotic orchestra. The creek was alive at night, awakened by twilight. Moonlight illuminated the tips of reeds and the halo of ripples that extended each time an insect landed on the surface.
"Not long before you saw me at work, I had a call from my accountant. He had been looking over the figures to see what my options were. And, he said I should be okay to keep the Icehouse, but I can't service the mortgage on the house myself. If Andie doesn't want to buy my half, I'm going to have to sell it."
"Oh, Pace," Joey finished the dessert, brushed the sugar from her fingers, and put her hand on his. His thumb crept up to rub against hers.
"I expected something would have to go."
"Will you get a rental?" she asked.
Pacey shrugged. "I guess we'll have to see what we can sell it for, see what I'm left with at the end after we split any excess and finalize the finances."
"I'm sorry Pace, that house is amazing."
Nodding, he glanced at the moon. "That house hasn't been mine since I found out. I thought I could learn to love it, put my own furniture in, and make it my own. But it's still ours and that's just another reason why I can't keep it."
She rested her head on his shoulder, unsure how to offer comfort.
"Did I tell you how we ended up with Cat Stevens?" he asked.
"No."
"We'd been engaged for a year and Andie was delaying any real wedding plans, citing work commitments and that we couldn't possibly get married in April, or May, or June, or any month, really. So I gave up on that idea, figuring it wasn't really her style, and I mentioned the idea of kids. I've always wanted kids and earlier in the relationship we'd spoken about it, agreeing that was something we both wanted. But when I mentioned it, she kept saying that we could barely keep houseplants alive, we were too busy with work, and that we needed to prove ourselves worthy of a child. So it was late one Saturday night, and I'd been slammed at the bar all night. I walked in the door at 1 am and there was a cat sitting on our sofa. I did a double take, I mean, a cat? I had never professed myself a lover of felines, if anything I'm a dog guy. She bought Cat Stevens as our trial child, our surprise trial child.
"A few months later, we were watching a movie with the fucking cat and Andie got up for a drink, leaving her phone behind. It buzzed with a message. I probably shouldn't have picked it up, but we were on each other's phones all the time. It didn't seem like a big deal. And that's when I learned why she didn't want a child. She just didn't want one with me. She bought Cat Stevens to placate me while she was deciding whether to leave me for Leo Frazer.
"I didn't tell her I knew. I confided in Doug, who did some digging in his cruiser and confirmed my suspicions that she was sleeping with him. I went to work, and I cooked and I served beer after beer and I came home and I wondered if today was the day she was finally going to confess. But she never did. She started taking art classes, and creating new hobbies to get out of the house, to be with him.
"Not long after, she was booked for a conference in Cabo. The minute she kissed me goodbye and left for the airport, I called a removal company. They took every single piece of furniture and put it in storage. All that was left was Cat Stevens, our surrogate feline child. The day she was due to return, I waited in our empty house until she finally pulled up. I handed her the key to the storage locker. I didn't want any of those things. They were all covered in her lies, in her inability to tell me the fucking truth, just once."
Pacey sniffed, stretching his neck and looked at the moon as though it would give him strength. "She never told me the truth, because she hadn't decided if she really wanted to leave me for him. So I was kept, dangling on a string with a fucking cat I never wanted and which, it turns out, she didn't either.
"So I guess, with all that I've just unloaded onto you, I'm saying that it's okay that I won't get to keep the house. I don't want it. And I'm sorry I was a dick earlier. I was just coming to terms with it, in writing, you know."
Joey nodded. It was one thing to break up; it was another thing entirely to see the remnants of your relationship finalized. She'd felt the same way at her own storage unit.
"I'm sorry Pace, you didn't deserve that."
"I wish I'd done things differently. I wish I'd just said something the moment I saw Leo's text. Sometimes you're too consumed in your own hurt that you forget how to function, how to make decisions, smart ones anyway. I think at the time that if I acknowledged it, then it was real, so it was easier to just pretend and hope that maybe I was wrong."
Joey laced her fingers into his, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"Thanks for listening," he said.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Pace. All of this isn't supposed to be easy. You're not supposed to make perfect decisions. Breaking up is messy. It rips your heart out in little increments. Just when you think you're better, something happens that opens the wound right back up again."
Pacey nodded. "I realized that being an absolute dick to you, made me feel far worse than the news of losing my house."
"At least you were a handsome dick," she tried to lighten the mood.
He looked at her with intensity, "Did you realize it's possible to know someone for only a few weeks, but they're the only person you want to see at the end of a long day?"
Joey rested her head on his shoulder. "I did."
"How did your interview go? Really?"
Joey told him everything, the questions they asked, her terribly prepared answers, and the way her nerves waned as the minutes progressed. She told him everything except how soon the position needed to be filled.
"It sounds like I might lose you to Boston."
Joey swatted a mosquito from her thigh and lifted his knuckles to her lips, kissing them one at a time. "Nothing's certain," she said.
Every moment Joey's skin touched his, it was as though she'd surrendered part of herself to this unknown. Joey Potter didn't make dubious agreements with strangers to form relationships and then tumble into them untethered. Joey Potter didn't kiss men in closets and touch herself beside them. If she stared at her reflection in the creek, she might not recognize herself; the tanned skin, the frizz of humidity in her hair, the smile. It was there all the time now. Her cheeks hurt from it. She didn't know what she was doing tomorrow, or the next day, the week, the month after that, and it filled her with excitement.
"Do you want to come back to my place?" He asked.
"Yes. But there is one condition."
"Name it."
"That Cat Stevens is safely locked in a room before I remove any articles of clothing."
Pacey laughed deeply. It echoed across the creek.
He extended his free hand. "Deal."
Joey clasped her hand in his and they slowly made their way back to the car and drove to the house that very soon would no longer be his.