Note: I'm so sorry for the very long delay, but I do have three chapters completed, including this one. I'm also in the process of planning an epilogue. The next chapters will be posted very soon. To those still reading this story, thank you for your interest and hope you enjoy!
Chapter Ten
One Year Later
There were only two weeks to go, Joey thought with a deep sigh as she plopped down next to her fiancé on the sofa. It was a long day of lack of accomplishment. She'd never thought it would be this hard, this all-encompassing ordeal that took over one's life.
"How did it go?" Pacey asked, taking his eyes away from Top Chef. and looking at Joey, his mouth turning into a tentative smile as he took in her disheartened appearance. "No such luck, I take it."
"We should just elope," Joey said half-jokingly.
"And disappoint and anger our very opinionated flock of family and friends who'd roast us on a spit if we so much as whisper the words, Las Vegas." Pacey shook his head. "Not gonna happen, Jo, as much as I want otherwise," he said dryly.
Joey narrowed her eyes at him. "When did you become the rational one in this equation?"
"Uh, the moment you turned into bridezilla." Pacey chuckled.
"Now that's an exaggeration," Joey replied defensively. "I just haven't had any luck finding the right dress, and I feel like I've been in every bridal shop in this city." She didn't know why it felt like she was on an impossible scavenger hunt to find the perfect gem. Why did it matter so much? Any other bride-to-be would have chosen a dress several months ago.
In general, the wedding preparations were going smoothly despite a few snags here and there. The sunset ceremony would take place on the waterfront of the Icehouse and the following reception would be held in the newly renovated restaurant itself. Over the last year, the Icehouse had gone through an immense transformation, thanks to the dedication and hard work of both Pacey and Joey's fathers. The co-managers—and soon to be in-laws—had seemed to finally put their animosity for one another on the backburner to help the engaged couple. John Witter had given Pacey the financial backing for an addition to the Icehouse that allowed for a party room and an extended deck that reached out onto the water where the nuptials would happen. Meanwhile, Mike Potter had worked to modernize the kitchen and took charge of planning the menu for the reception.
"You know, you look incredible to me no matter what," Pacey replied, his eyes boring into hers, letting her know his obvious meaning: You still look incredible to me after the surgery. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"I know." Joey nodded and gave a small smile. The outer scars were now almost completely healed. She would always have faint reminders on the surface, but for the most part, the breast reconstruction looked fine. However, she had been struggling to unpack the emotional baggage that came with having a preventive double-mastectomy. The memory of waking up afterward still lingered in her mind like a bookmarker to a major twist…
…
"She's coming to," a gentle voice had said in the manner that put a person at ease. Joey's eyes had remained closed as a chair squeaked against linoleum and somebody came closer. Who was there? Joey had wondered as she fought through a cloud of wooziness.
His lips brushed lightly over her forehead as she slowly lifted her eyelids. Her gaze met his brilliant blue eyes.
"Pacey," Joey croaked over the sandpapery texture of her tongue.
He smiled lazily. "Hey, how are you feeling?"
"Thirsty."
"I'll get some water," the nurse replied from the end of the bed as she hooked a clipboard onto the footboard and then left the room.
As Joey tried to shift her body into a more comfortable position, her arms stayed still at her sides. Oh, God. "Pacey, I can't feel my arms."
"Yeah," he replied solemnly "Remember that could happen, that you can experience some numbness for a few days."
Joey relaxed a little and rested her head back against the pillow. Of course, she remembered. Several doctors had warned her of this "minor" post-op setback but there was a difference between being prepared and actually experiencing said setback. What other things should she be expecting? Joey thought, looking down at her chest, her beast-less chest.
After Pacey's proposal, there had been no more fear of the unknown. Joey had immersed herself in research about her precancerous condition. Atypical hyperplasia increased her chances of getting breast cancer, and the fact that her mother had lost her own battle hadn't helped Joey's odds. She didn't need to start her marriage off with a storm cloud over their heads ready to burst at any moment. After seeking third and four opinions—and after much thought and much discussion with Pacey—Joey had determined that her best option was to have a double-mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. If she was willing to reduce the cancer risk with one breast removal, she'd reasoned, why not reduce the risk even more by removing the other one as well?
There was also the option of having her ovaries removed, but she'd decided against it for the time being. Even though Pacey had made it clear that he was with her no matter what she decided, she didn't want to take away his chance to be a father. Besides, after spending hours upon hours with little Amy, Joey realized how much she yearned for motherhood someday.
Once the nurse came back with a plastic cup, Joey's mind switched gears to what actually happened during the operation. After taking a long sip of ice, cold water, she asked Pacey, "Did you speak to the doctor? How did it go?"
Pacey nodded. "Everything went smoothly. They just want you to relax and concentrate on your recovery."
…...
Unfortunately, her recovery process was still happening, Joey thought now as she sat on the sofa. It was three months later, and she still had that familiar thirst, that thirst to feel comfortable in her body again. The silicon implants were a good substitute, but they didn't feel like a natural part of her. They were not a natural part of her. She was getting used to them, but it would take time.
"Jo?"
She pulled herself out of her reverie and turned her head toward Pacey. "Yeah, sorry, what?"
"I was just saying, to take the pressure off of you, maybe I could wear the dress and be the center of attention." Pacey looked at her with an innocent puppy dog expression, biting back a grin.
At the mental image of Pacey in white lace, Joey rolled her eyes and laughed.
She was reminded once again why she was marrying this man.
…..
"So, will you let me plan your bachelor party?" Drue asked Pacey later that night after closing. The last diner had left and the two men were just talking over a beer by the bar, waiting for Scully to come out of his back office. He'd told them that they needed to have a "serious talk."
"That's normally the best man's job," Pacey replied taking a swig. Drue had been pushing this idea of being in charge of Pacey's bachelor shindig for weeks. And for weeks, Pacey had been saying variations of the same refusal. The party planning was in the hands of Dougie and Dawson, with Jack standing on the sidelines to assist at any given time.
It had been a long internal debate choosing between Dawson and Doug to be his best man. On one hand, Dawson was his childhood best friend. Pacey had imagined him more as a brother for many of their formative years. On the other hand, Doug had really stepped up as an older brother in recent years. His brother was still a pain in the ass, mind you, but he became a supportive, friendlier pain in the ass. So, Pacey made the only logical choice.
Doug and Dawson would both be his best men.
"You'll be lucky if one of your last nights of bachelorhood doesn't resemble a granny's bake sale with those Three Stooges." Drue scoffed.
"Well, I'm not looking for my bachelor party to be turned into a Girls Gone Wild video," Pacey replied.
Drue chuckled. "It wouldn't be that extreme."
"What's extreme?" Scully asked with an arched brow as he walked through the swinging doors from the kitchen.
"We were just talking about my bachelor party," Pacey said turning his attention to their boss, who seemed to love eavesdropping.
Scully nodded. "Well, then, I'd say the more extreme the better."
"See, I'm not the only one." Drue smirked.
"That's actually what I want to talk about with you," Scully said to Pacey, taking a seat at a nearby table.
"You want to talk about my bachelor party?" Pacey raised a brow amusingly as he sat down across the table from the older man.
"No, no." Scully shook his head. "I want to give you your wedding gift."
Pacey held up his hand. "You really don't have to do that, sir. You've done enough for Joey and me." They would forever be grateful for the goofy yet loveable man's support during Joey's recovery. For the first couple days after the surgery, Pacey had stayed home despite Joey's protest. Scully had gone beyond being understanding by asking the sous chef to cook up daily meals for Pacey and Joey. He'd then brought the meals to their apartment every evening, himself.
His visits had been a welcome distraction for Joey, Pacey knew. The numbness in her upper arms may have been temporary, but she'd become vulnerable to Pacey as he helped her go about the day including dressing, eating, and everything in-between. For a stubborn and independent woman like Joey, that was far from simple or easy. Having Scully there, however, put things in a different perspective.
Here was a man who strived to help others in need, but under the surface, you could tell he was just a lost widower trying to find a purpose.
"I became smitten with my Maureen when we were youngsters and she helped me with those darn confusing algebra problems," he'd told Pacey and Joey over a plate of ravioli one night. "She was hella smart."
Scully had spent the next fifty plus years building a life with Maureen until one day she just wasn't by his side anymore.
Pacey couldn't imagine that kind of despair. He didn't want to imagine that kind of loss.
"I know, I know," Scully said to Pacey now, "but it's not that sort of wedding gift. Pacey, you've been a godsend to me and this place." He stretched his arms out wide. "You turned this place around by your fine knowledge of what's popular—of what people like to eat— and you've got the skills to actually cook. Something I don't know." His mouth tilted up into a sad little smile.
"I wouldn't say that," Pacey replied sincerely.
The older man waved away the sentiment. "It's true, it's true. I wanted to keep this place opened for my dear Maureen, but it was one disaster after another." He exhaled deeply. "Anyway, it's time for me to go and I want you to have it."
"What?" Pacey said, his eyes widened.
"What?" Drue echoed from behind the bar. "You're giving him the restaurant?'
Scully looked over at Drue as if he just noticed his presence, then turned back to Pacey. "It's time for me to retire. I'm tired and I don't know, I don't know. Maureen always dreamed of going to Tuscany, ya know, to see the wine country. She never got the chance, but I do."
"Yeah, great," Pacey replied. "You can take a vacation, a nice, long vacation. You don't have to give this up, Scully."
His boss shook his head. "I'm not giving it all up. I'll be your silent partner. You think it over and talk it over with your young bride." Scully patted his knee and then stood up putting an obvious end to the discussion. "I gotta call it a night."
With his mind wheeling, Pacey said good night.
"What are you gonna do, man?" Drue asked when Scully left.
Pacey exhaled a long breath. "Good question."
…
"Why are you so apprehensive about this, Pace?" Joey asked him a couple hours later in bed as she propped a pillow behind her back, her eyeglasses perched on her nose, a fresh manuscript on her lap seeking her attention. "This is the opportunity that you aspired to achieve, Pacey. Owning your own restaurant in the city has been your dream."
"But it wouldn't be my own restaurant, now would it?" he replied, leaning his head against the headboard seemingly mulling over his own question.
"Well, technically, you aren't the original founder of the Icehouse, either, are you?" Joey asked, her mouth curving up into a sly smile.
"Okay, point taken," he amusingly said before turning serious, "but that actually brings up another point as well. If I take on another established business, would I be shutting the door to other possibilities? I just wish there was a way to know for sure if the risk will be worth it down the road."
"I'm not gonna tell you what to do, Pacey."
"Why not?"
Joey smiled slightly. "Because you didn't tell me what to do." Until she practically ordered him to do so, she amended to herself, but that was neither here nor there. The ultimate decision about her medical dilemma had always remained hers and hers alone. It had also been the case when she was offered a promotion to a senior editorial position so soon after her surgery. Of course, she'd discussed the pros and cons of taking on more responsibility with Pacey at that particular time`, but at the end of the day, it was her decision to take the job. "Besides, I think you've already made up your mind on what to do," she said. "And you just want some validation."
Pacey nodded and sighed. "I think I'm gonna do it. I'll be co-owner of Scully's."
"I had no doubt," she replied, flipping open the manuscript. "It's the right move. You've already made Scully's bigger and better than Scully, himself, could have ever imagined possible. He trusts you and has total faith in you. And It definitely could lead you to more opportunities."
He chuckled, turning onto his side and shifting his body closer to hers. "Why didn't you just say that then, Potter?"
"Are we gonna talk in circles all night?" Joey sighed, trying to sound irritated even as she looked down into his teasing gaze that always softened her defenses. "I've got a meeting tomorrow with this up-and-coming author and haven't even put a dent in her script yet," she explained.
"You're right," Pacey said raspingly before his lips lightly touched the curve of her neck, "Talking's highly overrated."
"C'mon, Pacey," Joey feigned annoyance even as she moved her head to give him better access for his welcomed onslaught. It had taken a little time after her reconstruction for them to find their rhythm again in the sex department. Would Pacey find her just as desirable as before? Joey had wondered. He'd said countless times that he still found her beautiful and hot, but were they just well-meaning words?
Their first time post-surgery had been a little over a month ago. Initially, things were hesitant and slow. Pacey had been very cautious not to hurt her or cause her any discomfort as his hands and lips navigated around her healing body. It was almost like she was losing her virginity to him all over again.
It was nice just being that close to him.
As the days had passed, however, sex had gotten to be more than nice, much more than nice. The feeling of his body against hers—with hers—had overpowered any doubts of inadequacy.
Pushing all such thoughts away now, Joey gave up the pretense. "I guess, I can always reschedule," she said as she tossed the script and her eyeglasses onto the nightstand, then her lips captured Pacey's, eagerly. As she wound her arms around his broad shoulders, she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue between his teeth, taking control.
She needed the control, but more importantly, she needed him.
She wanted him.
Soon her nightshirt and underwear accompanied his t-shirt and boxers onto the floor. Pacey rolled Joey onto her back, plunging his tongue into her mouth in a hard, desperate kiss before his mouth trailed a burning path down her chin, neck, and then her breast.
Even though the physical touch to her breasts no longer aroused the same response, the same warm stirrings built within her from a deeper place that only Pacey could evoke, pooling downward to her core. Impatiently, Joey threaded her fingers through his thick head of hair, pulling him back up her body, her mouth meeting his again, hungrily.
"I want you," she panted and smiled at Pacey as she nudged him onto his back. Her hands pressed against his smooth, muscular chest. Her eyes locked with his as she straddled him, slowly sinking onto his rigid length. She began to move and he quickly followed, meeting her thrust for thrust.
Until they both came fully undone.
…
She still didn't have a dress and time was running out, Joey thought as she threw a pair of socks into her bedroom dresser at the Potter B&B. There was only eight days left until the big day and they were back in Capeside for the final preparations.
oh yeah, and she still didn't have a dress.
Joey slammed the drawer shut. Hard.
"What did that drawer ever do to you?" Bessie smirked from the doorway.
"Sorry, I'm just a bit frustrated with myself," Joey replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't follow through and make a decision, but what else is new, right?"
"What's wrong, Jo?" Bessie asked in a gentler tone as she came into the room. "Is everything okay with Pacey?"
"Yeah, yeah," Joey said, her mouth tugging up at the corners. "Things actually couldn't be better between Pacey and me." But then she sighed as her mind turned to the real problem. "It's the distorted image of myself that could drive me into an insane asylum."
"Isn't that a tad bit melodramatic?"
"I still can't find a wedding dress, Bess."
Her sister's eyes widened, "There's only eight days left."
"Tell me something I don't know.
"Well, if you'd accepted my help as your matron of honor, maybe you wouldn't be in this predicament."
Joey expected this reaction, but there was a very good reason why she hadn't accepted her sister's help. Joey had mistakenly thought that picking out a dress wasn't that big of a deal. And Bessie had a lot on her plate, especially after Joey's surgery. The older Potter sister decided to take the advice given by Joey's doctors and go for genetic testing to see if she had inherited the mutation for breast cancer. For once, Joey wanted to be there for her sister offering moral support, not the other way around. Thankfully, Bessie didn't have the gene mutations for breast cancer.
At least that was one more positive outcome on this year long rollercoaster ride.
Joey rolled her eyes and said, "I was wrong, okay? I didn't think…I didn't think I'd be this self-conscious after the reconstruction, but every dress I try on feels awkward, and I feel like I'm on display."
"Maybe you just haven't found the right dress," Bessie said mischievously. "I have something you should see." She turned on her heel and left the bedroom.
A sense of foreboding shot up Joey's spine as she followed her sister into the living room. "Bessie, I don't know —."
Joey froze.
On a mannequin dress form in the middle of the room was a long wedding gown. The fabric looked light and summery, made out of thin, floral lace that would be perfect for a beach ceremony. It had a halter neckline, slightly flowing out at the hem. There was no doubt that it was a beautiful dress, but she had seen hundreds of beautiful wedding dresses in New York. This one, however, stood out among the rest.
"It's Mom's dream dress," she said to Bessie almost breathlessly. It was an updated version, but it was their mother's dream dress. "Where did you get this?"
"I came across it at the bridal shop when I was being fitted for my dress" Bessie explained. "I wasn't sure at first until I came home and found the magazine photo attached to Mom's painting easel in the garage."
A prickly ball formed in her throat.
"It's a magical dress," Lilian Potter had once told a four-year-old Joey who'd stumbled upon the photo when watching her mother paint. "It's for princesses like Cinderella who dream of a happy ending."
Later, her mother would say that it was just too extravagant for a young bride looking to have an inexpensive shotgun wedding, but she'd still enjoyed the fantasy of it.
"What do you think?" Bessie looked at her expectantly. "It could be your something borrowed, you know. You'll need to go for a fitting, of course."
Joey shook her herself out of her reverie. "Uh, yeah, I love it in the general appraisal sort of way, but how did you set up this little staged surprise, Bessie." She gestured to the dress standing in as the centerpiece of the room. It wasn't exactly the ideal way to attract guests and make them feel at home.
"Okay, so, it was sisterly intuition," Bessie replied. "Why do you think I pushed Pacey out the door to get dinner the moment you guys got here?"
"You're amazing, Bess," Joey said dryly.
"Will you wear it?"
Her mouth opened —.
The front door flew opened, crashing into the adjacent wall as Alexander ran into the house, skidding to a halt in front of them.
Bessie eyed her son sternly. "You know better than to run into the house. This isn't a race track, young man."
"Sorry, Mom," Alexander dejectedly replied and then, he excitedly explained, "But Lily just heard on TV that there's gonna be a hurricane next week. Isn't that when Aunt Joey's gonna get married?"