His eyes scanned the room seeing only unfinished projects and his optimism failed him today. At this very moment it seemed like things would never come together.
Andie had called this morning. She had sounded so happy and he couldn't remember the last time he had heard happiness in her voice .It reminded him that he couldn't make her happy, that his love wasn't enough, and that he had failed. It wasn't that he didn't want her to move on but that didn't stop the dull ache that he felt realizing that he wasn't the one who could make her happy.
He reached into the drawer, pulling out a navy t-shirt that happened to be on top. Noticing too late that there were splatters of paint on the bottom of the shirt, he picked up another shirt only to discover that it had paint on it too. He groaned as he remembered that he had promised Mrs. Leery that her son could come around and take some pictures.
Mrs. Leery had been sort of a one woman welcoming committee. She had steered him in the right direction for both granite countertops and the slate tile that he was putting down in the kitchen. Little price breaks like that were sometimes the difference between making a profit and going over budget. He owed her and he tried to convince himself that today wouldn't be a total loss.
On cue, a silver Lincoln turned into his drive way and he could only assume that this was Dawson. The car stopped pulling to the edge of the lawn, or what Pacey hoped would become the lawn. Later, he would turn his attention to the lawn and add some flowers and landscaping.
He saw the blonde approaching talking animatedly on his cell phone. "It needs to be as close as possible. I'm doing this for you, for us, you know that. I've got to go now, bye." Dawson's voice was curt and a bit too loud.
"Hey, sorry about that." Dawson said putting his phone in the holder on his belt.
"You must be Dawson." Pacey shook his hand and then stepped backward to lean against the railing on the porch.
"Pacey, thanks for letting me film. I appreciate it, man." Dawson was a bit surprised because the house was nothing like he remembered. "You're taking the worst part of my life and making a movie out of it." Those words were a blow as he looked at the house and saw it for what it had been.
Dawson knew what he would do. It was simple and it would change everything. He couldn't wait to tell Joey how he would gloss over things—give her a nicer house, take away some of the realities that she had faced. It wouldn't change any of the essential parts of the story. She would still be the "poor" girl that managed to win the affection of town prodigy but he would give her family a different house, maybe a different job for Bessie.
"You don't mind if I set my camera up here and get some shots of the front. This light is priceless and will be gone soon." Looking around he was thankful that Joey's plan of buying this house had fallen through. It had been some kind of crazy idea from the start but she had been set on keeping their family home. Dawson had tried to tell her that it simply wasn't worth keeping but she wouldn't listen to him. Luckily Pacey had gotten stuck with the property instead.
He stood back to look at the kitchen tile, a project that he had expected to complete in a day. Three days later, it was done and now the grout just had to set before he wiped it down with a sponge tomorrow morning. It still bothered him to be behind his original time table but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction with the tile.
Pacey glanced at his watch once again and stared at the phone, willing it to ring. The electrician was supposed to call him back today so that he could come out tomorrow. The old house had the original wiring in the bedrooms and bathrooms. So far the electrician never managed to return his calls or make this job a priority. In Boston he would have simply picked up the phone and called the next one in the phone book but in Capeside there were only two in the phone book and the other didn't work on residential properties so he didn't have any options.
The windows were open and he could hear Dawson talking into his video camera. He was slightly annoyed that Dawson was still here. It wasn't that the guy was really in his way but he found their few conversations to have a tedious quality.
"I'm doing it for us." Joey kept repeating the words in her mind as she jogged along the sidewalk weaving to avoid the occasional tourist. She thought that a run would help her to think, to get past the anger that she was feeling right now because if she talked to Dawson at the moment she would lose it. She would lose him.
Maybe it wasn't just the movie. Joey had to admit that things hadn't been going well since she had moved to LA. Dawson was disgruntled with a job that he felt wasted his time and talent. Joey was at loose ends, unsure of what to do next now that she had the diploma and the boy.
She turned on a side street almost without thought. It wasn't that they fought all the time but sometimes Joey thought the silence was worse. Lately she had been wondering if it should be so hard. Relationships were hard work; she wasn't someone who expected it to be easy. She just didn't think it should be this tough at every turn.
Dawson hadn't even told her he was back in Capeside. Bessie had come in last night, giggling, asking if anyone had called. Bessie expected some grand romantic gesture from Dawson and she was so sure that she had spoiled it. This morning when there was no call, she called his cell phone and discovered that he was going to her old house to film.
She could almost picture Dawson walking around her old house, taking pictures, changing things into his own reality. She had always liked his imagination because it took her away from her own life, which was often painful. With him she had been able to hide, to pretend, to be normal.
She slowed to a walk as she walked down the gravel drive. Mrs. Leery's car was in the driveway. Looking at the house she felt a small twinge. Dawson was sitting on the porch sharing a beer with the new owner.
"Hey, Jo."
"Have you met Pacey? Pacey this is my fiancé, Joey."
Dawson often did this. He would forget arguments and pretend that all was well. Their pattern was to simply move on except that lately she felt that they weren't moving at all. "Yes, we've met." Her voice was tense.
"I should have known. How could you not in a town like Capeside."Dawson threw his head back and laughed.
"I was just telling Pac." He gave her a look hoping that she would understand that this was neither the time nor the place to finish their argument.
"Pacey, I really need to talk to Dawson. If you could excuse us." She offered him a small, embarrassed half smile before turning to Dawson.
"Yeah, sure. Good luck with your movie, man." Pacey held up his beer and gave a sort of wave with the bottle before going inside.
Through the open windows he could hear almost every word. He thought that it was wrong to listen but it was kind of a like a train wreck but if he walked over to close the windows then he would draw attention to himself and they would realize that he could hear everything.
"It's our story, Joey. Yours, mine---soul mates. Look, its right here, carved in this very tree."
"Dawson, have you heard anything that I've said?" She couldn't believe that he was pointing to some stupid tree that he had carved what felt like a lifetime ago.
"I've figured it out. I know how to do this without hurting you. Things can be glossed over. I'll change the house. You just tell me what you want me leave out." He looked at her hopefully.
"It all hurts, Dawson." A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I've explained countless times why I don't want you to do this movie and you just bulldoze on." She wiped her tears hating that she was crying. "It's like you don't even care."
"I've already pitched it. It's going to be a big hit, Joey. This is my chance, our chance." He stepped toward her reaching out to her.
"Don't" She pulled away, his hand brushing her shoulder but not quite making contact.
She tugged the ring off her left hand. "We have had so many chances, Dawson. Don't you wonder why it didn't work?" She placed the ring in his hand folding his hand over it.
"Joey, you can't." He exhaled and mumbled something that Pacey couldn't understand. Their voices were now hushed, the anger gone.
"Don't you get it? You've made our life into some kind of fantasy and I can't even tell what is real anymore."
"We're real .We're meant to be together."
"Well than why can't we ever make it work. Did you ever ask yourself that, Dawson?" Joey didn't even try to stop the tears now.
He handed the ring back to her. "We've had our ups and downs before and we always found our way back to one another. That has to say something, take it."
"No. Joey, please." He pleaded, his voice taking on a whiney quality.
"I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to constantly be fifteen. I want to move on." She turned her back toward him, walking away.
"We can move on together." He said the words to her back knowing that this wasn't the time to push the issue.
She simply shook her head and kept walking toward the pier almost out of habit, for a second forgetting that this was not her home. She sat down hugging her knees to her chest, staring at the water.
Dawson walked onto the front porch, feeling slightly defeated. He knocked on the door although all he wanted to do was get in his car and go home. Joey was right that sometimes Capeside could make him feel fifteen. He had that same feeling that his heart had been ripped out of his chest that he did when he was fifteen and Joey had first broken up with him. He asked Pacey to make sure that she got home, knowing that it would b e better to just go.
Pacey could see her small shadow still sitting on the pier. After Dawson left he had given her a while to pull herself together.
He loved this time in the evening when darkness was closing in. The night added a sense of beauty and hid the flaws that he saw at every turn during the day. It was the only time when he could truly relax.
The old wood creaked under his feet as he approached her, clearing his throat. "Hey." He sat down careful not to accidentally touch her in any way.
She brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes, slightly embarrassed. "You heard."
He thought about denying it. "Yeah, not all but enough to get the gist."
She rested her forehead in the palm of her hand.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"Yeah." Her voice was shaky.
He wanted to tell her that he knew what it was like to sit on a pier and feel like you had lost everything. He wanted to tell her that each day you woke up and the pain faded a little. "Ya know, I lived in Capeside until I was three." Where had that come from?
"Yeah." She swung her feet back and forth, right above the water. He couldn't see the expression on her face. "Lucky for me, I guess." Her tone was flat like she didn't have any emotion left for sarcasm.
"We could have been friends. You never know, stranger things have happened."
"Enemies, most likely." She wiped her eyes, holding her shoulders a little straighter, pulling herself together.
"You're probably right." He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. "It looks like you could use a friend at the moment and that you can't be too picky."
He felt her shoulders shake slightly and stood reaching out his hand to her. "Come on, I'll take you home. Bessie and Bodie will be worried."
She took his hand and instead of dropping it after she stood, she held on his long fingers giving a sense of security that she needed so badly right now.
"Yeah." He exhaled leaning back to look at the stars." Come on, I'll take you home."
She followed him surprised when he led her to his truck. If he wouldn't have stopped her she would have walked back into her old house. Joey started thinking about how she didn't really have a home anymore, not here or in LA.