For Love of the Game
Ch 3: The Longest Day
Disclaimer: I don't own the Red Sox, or Dawson's Creek; I'm merely using them for entertainment purposes.
Author's Notes: It's taken me forever, but here it is, part 3. Please send feedback, and maybe even include where you think this should go from here. I'm thinking about bringing in an old friend of Pacey's (not one that anyone would know), but I can't decide. Let me know if I should stick with just Shawn, or bring in the other guy.
"I can't believe you Pacey. You are completely insane," Joey said admiring the ring on her finger. They were in the car, on the way to the hospital, with Shawn trailing them not far behind.
"I may be crazy, but at least I finally asked you. Everyone has been bugging me to do it for months."
"Pacey... you knew I was fine with the way things were. You don't have to prove anything to me, and you definitely don't have to prove anything to anyone else."
"I know that, but it's time. It's definitely time for you to be Mrs. Witter. Now that I've done it, I don't know why it took me so long."
"Because you're a chicken, and one of the last Great Romantics, but I love you anyway." Joey kissed his cheek and looked back at her hand. The ring was gold, with two diamonds set in the ring, on either side of a tiny sapphire. "Where did you ever find something so beautiful?"
"In a little town called Capeside, many years ago." Pacey looked over at the blushing Joey, who pinched him. "Ouch. You meant the ring? At Tiffany's, during the conference in New York last November."
"You've had this for almost eight months?" That meant, Joey figured, that he'd been dancing around asking her for that long.
"Yes ma'am," he replied.
"Boy, you are chicken," she laughed.
"Why thank you for that vote of confidence."
"You're welcome."
"I don't think I'm ready Jo," Pacey said, changing the subject quickly.
"For what?" she asked, completely oblivious.
"For Johnson, for finding out that I have cancer, for my life to change."
"Your life just changed an hour ago. It's changing right now, while we're talking about it changing. Don't worry about it so much; it's bound to change, whether you notice it or not."
"I'm glad I've got you," Pacey said honestly.
"I'm here forever, no matter what," Joey promised.
A silence hung over them until Pacey said, "Jo?"
"Hmm?"
"I hate to ask you for anything more today, but will you do me a favor in there?"
"Anything."
"Will you hold my hand?"
Joey looked over at him, and saw just how serious he was. "Of course."
Silence consumed them once again as Pacey signaled and turned into the hospital parking garage. He parked, turned off the engine, and unbuckled, but didn't move to get out.
"I don't know Jo," he said quietly.
"Come on. Let's get this over with. It can only get better. In a few minutes, we'll know the whole truth, and we'll be able to do something about it."
"This is all so quick though. Just yesterday we were here for a physical. Today were here to find out if I'm fatally ill."
"That's the way things work with us, always have, always will. Let's go." Pacey got out and took Joey's hand when he met her on the other side of the car.
"Wit, Jo, wait up!" Shawn yelled, running to catch up.
"Beck, we thought you got off at the wrong exit again," Pacey joked.
"I may be from Detroit, but I've lived here for three years. I think I know my way around by now."
"Sure you do," Pacey agreed sarcastically.
"I am not starting this battle. Changing the subject. So, Joey, how's life?"
"Eck," Joey began. "Well, my boyfriend is playing in the biggest game in baseball aside from the World Series, my job is actually exciting for the first time in forever, and I was just proposed to. Aside from our current location, and the reason behind it, I'd say life's pretty good. And Shawn, how's life with you?"
"Good, good. I'm playing in that same aforementioned game, I just told my asshole-agent off, and my girlfriend and I just made up. I'm doing well."
"You and Britni actually had something to make up about?" Joey asked with mock astonishment.
"What? You don't believe that we fight?"
"She has a point," Pacey said. "You and Brit fight about what color sheets to put on the guest bed, and whether to watch "Sleepless in Seattle" or "You've Got Mail". You two are perfect."
"Ha! Talk about perfect, you two will be on the cover of Modern Maturity in 35 years under the heading, "America's Most Perfect Couple: 41 years and counting."
"I beg to differ Shawny-boy," Joey argued. "Yeah, it'll be 42 years by then," Pacey said putting his arm around Joey.
Shawn rolled his eyes and opened the door. Pacey led the other two to the elevator, gripping Joey's hand tightly. They boarded with a middle-aged man and woman, presumably his wife, and Pacey pressed 4.
The man glanced at his elevator companions, then did the classic double-take.
"You're Pacey Witter and Shawn Becker," he exclaimed.
"Yes, we are," Shawn replied indifferently.
"Wow. You guys had a great game yesterday. Congrats on the win."
"Thanks," Pacey muttered, embarrassed as usual.
"Good luck against Baltimore tomorrow. This might just be our year."
"I sure hope so," Shawn stated.
"This is us," Joey broke in.
"Nice meeting you," the man said as they exited.
"You too," Pacey agreed. Once the door shut, Pacey turned to Joey and lowered his voice. "He saw us get off here."
"So?" she whispered back.
"So, the 4th floor is entirely for cancer patients."
"What does he know? I could have cancer, or you could just be visiting some 10-year-old whose last wish is to meet you two. Don't panic."
"What is this, a private conference?" Shawn whispered, sticking his head between theirs.
"Go away," Joey said, pushing Shawn's face back.
"Ow, Joey," Shawn whined.
"You are so immature," Joey laughed.
"Cut it out guys," Pacey ordered as if he were there father. As they neared the receptionist, she looked up and recognized who was nearing her. Panicking, Pacey quickly, and shakily, said, "Witter for Dr. Johnson."
"Have a seat. He'll see you in just a moment."
Pacey did as he was told, and sat down in the nearest chair. Joey and Shawn, still bickering, sat on either side of him. "Why are you guys so annoying? Shut up," Pacey said, without looking at either of them.
Joey and Shawn looked at each other, then at Pacey, then at each other, sharing a confused expression. "You all right Wit?" Shawn asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but you two are bugging the hell out of me."
"Sorry," Joey mumbled.
"No, you're always like this, the three of us are always like this. It's just my nerves. I'm getting anxious."
"Well calm down," Shawn advised.
"Pacey," Dr. Johnson called, coming out of his office. He saw them and waved them in. "Joey, Pacey, right this way. Shawn, you really should schedule a physical. Your last one was before the last season ended."
"I'll schedule one right now," Shawn told him, and picked up a magazine as soon as the door shut.
"Take a seat guys," the doctor told them. "I don't want you to have a heart attack, so I'll get right to the point. I'm actually a little surprised that you could play last night after the biopsy."
"I know you told me it would hurt, but I couldn't feel a thing."
"That's because of the morphine I prescribed. In any case, we diagnosed you backwards, doing the biopsy first, so today we're going to start at the beginning. I've scheduled an x-ray and an ultrasound, and you need to have another blood test and another urine test. We'll also have to do some staging to determine if the tumor has spread. But I will tell you now, even without these things, I'm 99.9% sure that you do in fact have cancer."
"Oh Christ," Pacey mumbled. "Why so early? My father wasn't sick until he turned 50."
"This isn't necessarily hereditary. I can't explain why it happened, all I can do is tell you that you've got it, and help you get rid of it."
"I guess that's all I can ask of you." Pacey lowered his head and Joey squeezed his hand.
Noting Pacey's sullen posture, Dr. Johnson turned to Joey. "When is his next day off?"
"Today is the 23rd, right?"
"Yes."
"Then, if I'm counting right, next Wednesday, after his plane lands from Baltimore."
"Just half a day?"
"Yes, unfortunately. He has July 2nd, and then July 5th through the 11th."
"Pacey," Dr. Johnson said and he looked up, "You're going to have to take yourself off the roster. The tumor has to be removed, and them you have to have chemo, and no one can play baseball like that."
"But we still don't know for sure if I have cancer."
"99.9% is for sure. Pacey. And after today, we'll get the other .1% and be positive. Come on, let's get started with that urine test." Dr. Johnson led Pacey and Joey out of the room and closed the door.
"It'll be all right Pace," Joey whispered.
Inside, they were both praying that she was right.
**********************
Three hours later, Joey and Pacey were again sitting in Dr. Johnson's office.
"I just viewed everything, with the help of another doctor, and I know exactly what the story is," the doctor told them.
"Can you wait a minute?" Pacey asked, already getting out of his seat. The doctor nodded, and he turned to Joey. "I'll be back in a sec." He left the room and headed for the waiting area.
Shawn was reading a Sports Illustrated, almost falling asleep.
"Shawn," Pacey said tapping him.
He jerked up. "Damn, don't scare me like that."
"Sorry."
"You know, this is my 15th Sports Illustrated. I now know everything there is to know about every sport there is."
"That's great, but I need a huge favor."
"What?"
"I need you to go call Aujourd'hui and get reservations for 7:30, and if they say they can't do it, then go there, and they'll give them to you. I have to do the whole proposing thing right, the way I planned it."
"Why?"
"Because, as much as I know Joey will love telling our grandkids that I proposed at a press conference, she deserves it this way. Plus, we both need a break."
"Okay. Where is this place?"
"200 Boylston. And can you stop by Alpha Omega in the Prudential Center and pick up the watch I have on hold? It's paid for."
"Anything else, Daddy Warbucks?"
"No, that's it. Thanks a lot. I'll call you this afternoon."
"Do that. 'Later." Shawn left and Pacey returned to the office, his spirits slightly lifted.
"All right, tell us," he said as soon as he sat down.
"You have a sarcoma, which is centralized in the right bicep muscle, and it's starting to spread. It has to be removed, and we have to start chemo."
"How long before you take it out?"
"Well, it needs to be done soon. You said you have no games after the 4th?"
"Yeah."
"Then we'll schedule the operation for the 6th. But Pacey, the All-Star game will be your last for a while."
"How long will he be out?" Joey asked, knowing how much baseball meant to him.
"If all goes well, he'll have six weeks of chemo, and that may be it. Theoretically, you could be playing again by September, but I wouldn't count on it. After the chemo, you'll have to do rehab on your arm, not to mention building strength back up; chemo will take a lot out of you. I'll make you a deal. If all goes as planned, and the Red Sox get the Wild Card or the pennant, I'll have you playing in the post season. Deal?"
"Deal." Pacey shook his hand, hoping Dr. Johnson could hold up his end of the bargain, and knowing that he could hold up his own.
**********************
"Joey?" Pacey stepped into the den where she was staring blindly at the computer screen.
"Yeah?" she didn't look away.
"You want to go out to dinner?"
"I guess. When?" She looked at him now, her expression sad.
Pacey looked at his watch. "7:30, about three and a half hours. Okay?"
"Yeah. I just need to e-mail a couple of things to the office."
"All right. I'll be upstairs."
"Okay." Joey turned back to her computer.
Pacey stood and watched her for a moment, then went upstairs. He sat down on his bed, picked up the phone, and dialed Shawn's number.
"Becker."
"Hey, it's Pacey."
"I've got your watch and your reservations are set."
"Great. Thanks. Are you on the road?"
"On the way to your house to drop off this watch before something happens to it."
"Take your time, I trust you."
"That's what I'm afraid of. Come on out, I'm here."
"Be right down." Pacey put down the phone and went downstairs. "I'll be right back Jo, I'm going out to talk to Walker."
"Yeah," Joey said distractedly.
He went outside where Shawn was sitting on the front steps.
"Here," Shawn said, handing Pacey a jeweler's box.
"I suppose you want to know what the doctor said."
"That'd be nice."
"I've got it, and I'm having it removed on the 6th. I can play until the All-Star game, and then I'm out."
"Did you call Jimy and tell him?"
"Not yet. I think I'll tell him tomorrow."
"I'll tell you right now, we're all going to go crazy without you. I know I can't do half as well with Merloni as I can with you."
"Believe me, you'll survive."
"Maybe we will, maybe we won't. Well, I've gotta get home. Enjoy yourself tonight."
"I will. Thanks again."
"No prob. See you tomorrow." Shawn stood, got in his car, and drove away while Pacey wondered how to get in the house with the box. He finally decided that she was too engrossed to even notice that he had come back, so he went it and returned to his room. He lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Joey was downstairs, still staring blindly at her computer. It had just hit her: Pacey was sick, and she was terrified. She had already lost her mother, and Pacey had lost his father, both to cancer. Joey had seen firsthand what the disease did, and she was dreading seeing it a third time. What was worse was that she thought Pacey had started to take it too well. He had been anxious and scared before seeing the doctor, but after, he showed absolutely no emotion.
Joey laughed when she realized that just two days ago, everything had been normal - as normal as possible with the two of them. Now, less than 48 hours later, she was engaged to a dying man. That, she reasoned, was the way things always happened. The irony of it all was that, though she would change the cancer, given the chance, she wouldn't change getting engaged to Pacey for anything.
Ever since she was little, she had dreamt of her future husband, and that image had turned out to fit Pacey to a T. Joey knew that cancer would eat away at her just as much as it would Pacey. Selfishly, Joey was looking forward to one thing about Pacey's debilitation: he would be at home. She could handle seeing him one day a week for seven months at a time, but she couldn't stand losing him altogether. If Pacey didn't get well, she wouldn't be able to go on.
"Joey!" Pacey yelled down the stairs startling her.
"Yeah?" she called back.
"Are you still online?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," Joey replied.
"I never called Dawson this morning. Can you send a letter to him for me?" he asked, running down the stairs.
"What do you want me to write, and to which address?"
"Dleery@Leery.com. Just type: I'm an All-Star - want to be my best man? And sign it P-."
"Got it. So we're telling people?"
"Well yeah, we can't let the press do everything."
"What about the cancer?"
"We'll have to tell them before the operation, obviously, because everyone will wonder where I disappeared to."
"I suppose your right."
"You don't want to say anything?"
"It's not that..."she trailed off.
"Then what is it?"
"Nothing."
"Joey, tell me."
"It's nothing Pacey, I just think maybe we should keep quiet until the last possible second, except with your mother."
"Okay, then that's what we'll do."
"Sounds like a plan. You know, my agent's going to kill me when he watches ESPN tonight."
"Why? All you did was ask your girlfriend to marry you in front of every major news outlet in the country." In spite of herself, Joey instantly let go of the cancer discussion in her head. She forgot about it completely; Pacey always had that affect on her.
"Exactly. That's a big no-no, very unconventional."
"Since when have we been conventional? We were discussing frozen sperm last night. The night before, you were out playing baseball until 2 am. We shall never be normal my dear."
"Don't speak too soon, love."
"Where are you taking me tonight?"
"That is a surprise."
"You bug the hell out of me sometimes Witter."
"I know. I'm gonna go back to my nap now. I had just fallen asleep when I remembered about Dawson."
"I think I'll come with you," Joey said standing up and taking Pacey's hand.
"I don't know about you, but I intend on actually sleeping."
"And I intend on watching you," Joey replied, pulling Pacey up the stairs.
To Be Continued
