I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. :)
Chapter Eleven
"Our latest model shows Topical Storm Hilda gaining strength after it moves over Bermuda and turns toward the Northeastern U.S. Hilda will most likely hit the mainland as a category two hurricane by Thursday evening. New Hampshire, New York, Connecticut, and Massachusetts will be in the storm's direct path and should get ready…"
Pacey muted the Weather Channel as the blonde meteorologist repeated the same spiel for the umpteenth time about the possible storm surge and flooding expected. He turned his head from the flat screen above the Icehouse bar, and addressed his father and Mike Potter, who were seated across the counter. "Well, at least the forecasted timing of Hilda hasn't changed. Hopefully, she'll blow over with a little damage as possible and the wedding will go over without a hitch." They had debated whether or not to postpone the wedding, but they were hoping for some good karma that would have the storm blow over. Unfortunately, it appeared like good karma wasn't coming. Pacey sighed and closed his eyes, not able to stay in denial. "Oh, who am I kidding? There's no way that everything will be in tip-top shape by Saturday."
"There's some positive thinking right there, son," John said dryly as he stood from the barstool. "Pace, why don't you let Mike and I worry about keeping things around here? Your job's just to make it to the wedding in one piece, all right?"
Mike nodded. "Your father's right, Pacey. We can handle any hiccups that blow our way. Don't worry about it."
Pacey looked perplexingly at the two men. Yes, he wanted them to be amicable for the greater good of the restaurant and any future holidays and birthdays, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being Punk'd. Their mutual agreeability would take some time to become part of the natural order of things. "I'll try do that."
"If I know my little brother, yeah, I think he'll go for it," a familiar voice entered the conversion.
Pacey crooked his head toward the entrance and he smiled when he saw Gretchen and Joey strolling toward the bar. Gretchen had come back into town yesterday, ready for all the bridal party hoopla, particularly Joey's bachelorette party. Unfortunately, Hilda was set to make landfall on the same night Pacey and Joey planned to say adiós to the single life in the form of two exclusive parties. "What will I go for, Gretch?" Pacey asked his sister, raising his brow.
"A hurricane party." His sister smirked like she held the holy grail of ideas. "One big party at the Potter B&B. We can all prepare for the storm and then hunker down and have some fun."
Pacey regarded Joey. "You okay with this?"
She nodded and smiled. "Bessie already agreed."
"So, the groom is the last to be asked, I see," Pacey stated wryly.
Joey tilted her head to the side and feigned offense. "C'mon, Pace, it was strictly due to who was closer at the time." she shrugged. "Bessie was closer."
Pacey chuckled and bobbed his head. "Okay, I'm in."
"How about us?" John asked gruffly.
Pacey turned to his father who was standing next to Mike Potter. They both wore expectant expressions as everyone looked at them. Pacey, who'd once thought going to a family gathering was like walking directly into a firing squad, found himself saying, "Of course you guys should come and Mom, too. The more the merrier, right?"
Whether or not that would be true was anyone's guess.
…..
For the next few days, tourists jammed the highways exiting the Massachusetts coast, including the town of Capeside. The usual easygoing feel of the town had been replaced by restless anxiety as residents readied for the oncoming hurricane. Capeside High and the elementary school postponed the start of summer classes until the following week as adults and children alike gave each other a helping hand with preparations. Local shops and businesses boarded up windows and glass doors. And of course, the marina removed and secured vessels from choppy waters.
At the Icehouse, the entire staff battened down the hatches. While Pacey did his part in getting a plan in gear for what needed to be done, he gave the majority of the reins over to his co-managers. And for that, John Witter was extremely grateful. For years, he had let his own poor upbringing and shortcomings bleed over onto how he'd raised his sons. There were no excuses for the abuse that he had unleashed on them, especially on Pacey, but now was the chance to be better and make up for lost time.
The road hadn't exactly been smooth, John knew, particularly when he had found out that his co-worker was none other than the no good ex-con Mike Potter. Granted, as a former sheriff, John had let his preconceived notions about the man run amuck. It had all come to a head, however, when he wrongly accused Mike of stealing money from the Icehouse. After almost collapsing the bridge that he had started to build with Pacey, John had slowly become more open-minded where Mike was concerned. It hadn't taken long for him to realize that Mike was truly trying to trudge the same path to redemption that he was on.
For that, John had to respect the man.
"I don't think we have enough sandbags," Mike told John now as he put the last bag down next to the outer brick wall of the Icehouse underneath the front window, a sharp gust of wind suddenly cutting through the air and slapping their faces like a the first shot for an anticipated fight. "Any water will seep right through this barrier here."
John gave a heavy sigh and nodded. "I'll go now. The station still has some according to Dougie." The storm was only hours away and they just were doing a last-minute inspection before heading over to the Potter B&B. The windows were already boarded up, inventory checked and double-checked, insurance and financial documents secured, and vendors canceled for the next couple days. The only hiccup was trying to prevent a flood from destroying the restaurant, which was unfortunately right on the waterfront and vulnerable to any storm surge, especially a storm as strong as Hilda.
And in this case, a storm that threatened to destroy a wedding that was still in for two days time. John intended to make the day perfect for Pacey and Joey come hell or high water. It was the least he could do.
"You want to let Pacey know?" Mike asked.
John shook his head. "We don't need that many more bags. Besides, the kids have enough on their plate over at the B&B."
Mike opened his mouth as if to argue, but simply said, "I'll go with you."
"Let's go, then."
…..
Joey stood by the kitchen table and started lighting a few candles that had been found in the garage. The lights had already begun to flicker. It was only a matter of time before everybody was thrown into total blackness. Even though the windows were covered and sealed tight, the enraged gusts of wind could still be heard as they beat sheets of rain against the outside of the Potter B&B. Just an hour or so ago, everything had seemed calm like the atmosphere had been waiting for the right time to pounce, and it was now letting loose.
For the past forty-eight hours, the Potter B&B was turned into a safe haven by Pacey and Joey's bridal party. Dawson had flown in from L.A. earlier than expected to help out. Andie had taken time off from her residency at Massachusetts General to be a bridesmaid, and she'd appointed herself hurricane prep coordinator. Even Drue and Scully had decided to ride out the storm in Capeside instead of staying put in New York. The only person who couldn't make it was Audrey who had a last-minute flight cancelation.
The bridal party had stocked up on batteries and bottled water, and other hurricane party essentials, including Budweiser and Mike's Hard Lemonade. Everybody was currently in the living room, trying to take their minds off of the turbulent situation outdoors and relax. Well, except for the fathers of the bride and groom.
They hadn't shown up yet.
Where the hell could they be? Joey wondered as she lit the last candle. According to Pacey's mother, her husband had told her that he'd check in at the Icehouse before bringing her to the Potter B&B. She'd decided to stay home when there was no sign of the former-sheriff. As for Joey's own father, he'd called that morning and said he had some things to do before heading over to the party.
But he wasn't even picking up his cell.
"Okay, Doug, keep me posted," Pacey said into his cell as he walked into the kitchen. "I won't, all right? Just keep me posted," he repeated before ending the call.
Joey looked up at Pacey, her stomach coiling with dread. "What's going on?"
"Looks like our ever-so-devoted managers went to the police station just before Hilda arrived." Pacey replied, rubbing a hand over his face as he sighed. "They picked up more sandbags and then headed back to the Icehouse, according to Doug."
"Okay, so where are they now?"
"They're not picking up their cells," Pacey said, "nor are they answering the restaurant's landline. Dougie said the station's bombarded with frantic calls, but he'll head over there himself, if he has to."
"So, we just have to wait?" Joey asked, trying to stay calm and pushing away every worst-case scenario that tried to take shape in her head. Her father survived incarceration. Surely, he could survive a category two hurricane—and he was with a retired sheriff who knew emergency protocol in an event such as a natural disaster.
"Well, I told Doug that I'll give him an hour, and then I'm gonna go to the restaurant myself." Pacey replied resolutely.
Joey shook her head. "Let's just hope they are safe and sound at the Icehouse and not picking up for some ridiculous reason."
He exhaled heavily. "I'm not gonna argue that point right now. I'm banking on the fact that my dad's just too stubborn and arrogant to let anything happen to either him or Mike."
For more than a year, Pacey had given her anything she'd wanted from space and time to a shoulder to cry on. Now she wanted to be there for him. "You're probably right," she said, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "But you know, Pace, it's okay for you to admit that you care about your dad."
"Yeah, yeah." Pacey replied. "I know—."
"Guys!" Drue called out to them as he came into the room. "This is one lame-ass party, but are you gonna join the rest of us?"
Joey narrowed her eyes at him. "Your sensitivity's always so touching, Drue." She really didn't know what to make of Drue at that moment. The guy was on the outs with his girlfriend. Cheryl had called Joey the other day, and apologized for not coming to the wedding. Apparently, Cheryl was ready to take the next step in their relationship and Drue was content with the status quo. Now he was acting more jerkish than usual to show that he was just A-Okay, it seemed
"Sorry," Drue said, looking ashamed, showing a tiny crack in his jackass armor, "any word about your dads?"
Pacey turned around and shook his head. "Doug's gonna call back and wants us to wait."
"And you're just gonna do that?'
Just then, Dawson and Gretchen joined the discussion. "What's going on?" Dawson asked just as the lights flickered once more before the house was thrown into complete darkness. Many groans along with Amy's cry arose from the other room followed closely by Jack and Grams' consoling voices.
In the dim candlelight Joey saw Pacey's shoulders stiffen and she just knew what was coming next.
"I have to go and get them before this storm gets any worse," Pacey stated, looking her straight in the eyes. "They're probably just at the restaurant," he repeated the easiest explained theory of John and Mike's whereabouts.
"I'm coming with you," Gretchen put in.
Pacey gave a small nod to his sister before turning back to Joey. "I'll be right back."
"Just be careful, all right?" Joey sighed, her gaze never leaving his as her hand brushed an annoying strand of hair away from her forehead. "I'd go with you, but Bessie was distressed enough with trying to keep Alexander calm while worrying about Dad."
"I wouldn't want my future in-laws furious with me by letting you tag along, anyway," Pacey said, his mouth lifting slightly
Joey rolled her eyes and gave a hint of a smile back. "If I don't hear from you in half an hour, I'm coming after you, though" she said, pushing down that pesky inner voice that sensed that something was bound to go wrong. She'd fought with that voice most of her life, especially in the past year, and it usually caused more headaches than resolutions.
Pacey's eyes softened as he grabbed her hand and squeezed lightly. "Oh, I have no doubt."
"I'll come with you guys," Dawson said.
Pacey nodded. "Thanks, man."
"We'll take my jeep," Gretchen stated, leaving no room to argue.
"I'm driving," Pacey quickly replied.
"I'll just stay here and help look after the others," Drue helplessly offered as everyone scattered.
Once Pacey, Dawson, and Gretchen put their raincoats on and took a collective deep breath, Pacey slowly turned the doorknob and— swish— the near eighty miles per hour wind gust shoved his body back as the door thudded against the wall.
Pacey looked back at Joey with a reassuring smile as he regained his footing. He cautiously stepped forward with Dawson and Gretchen following in his wake. Standing a few feet away, Joey shivered and crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on the three of them as they struggled out through the blustering storm, leaving her chilled to the bone.
…
Soon twilight would descend on Capeside, but the dense, sinister clouds rolling across the sky already made it seem like night and driving was made all the more treacherous as rain swept across the road. In the driver's seat of Gretchen's Jeep Compass, Pacey peered out the front window as the trees swayed wildly like they were being controlled by an uncontrollable puppet master on an acid trip. Tree branches snapped off here and there as if they were giving up on the performance. The only positive, noteworthy observation was that the blinding monsoon momentarily seemed to slow to a steady rainfall.
A gust of wind jostled the jeep once again, and Pacey gripped the wheel with both hands, so tightly that it made his knuckles turn white.
"How are you doing over there?" Gretchen asked him from the passenger seat.
"I'm just fine, just fine" Pacey gritted his teeth as he straightened the vehicle and then said, "Pop better be sitting having a cold beer, so I can kill him."
"Why don't you cut him some slack?" Gretchen countered a bit coolly. "You know, yes, he was an awful father and he knows it, but give him some credit for trying to do better and change at least."
"I am," Pacey muttered as the guilt crawled into his gut and he sighed. "Look, I know the man's not the same bastard that he used to be, but it's just hard to forget, you know." And it was just easier to be angry with the former-sheriff than be worried about him, he thought to himself.
"Well, this wedding's not short on the dramatics," Dawson said, breaking the tension from the backseat.
"I'd much rather endure a blistering best man's speech from Dougie than this," Pacey replied, his eyes surveying the wet, deserted road in front of him even as his mind went to his bride-to-be and her own father. "Joey doesn't deserve this."
"Either do you, Pace," Dawson patted his shoulder.
Pacey glanced up at his longtime friend in the rearview mirror. Even though he'd made Dawson one of his best men, Pacey didn't take their friendship for granted anymore. Any support from Dawson now came with a bit of surprise. "Well, that goes without saying, my friend," he said glibly in attempt to lighten the mood.
"Oh, is that— Is that Pop's pickup?" Gretchen tentatively asked, pointing a finger to the right side of the road.
Pacey quickly gazed to the right, but his eyes snapped straight ahead. A large pine tree was sprawled in the middle of Ferry Avenue. Pacey slowly turned his head back to the right and saw the backend of a red Ford sticking out of a ditch. It was indeed his father's pickup.
…
"How are you holding up?" Andie asked Joey with a hesitant smile as she sat down next to her on the living room sofa. The room was immersed in an orangish glow of candlelight while the NOAA Weather Radio sat on the nearby side table giving continuous updates.
It had only been fifteen minutes and Joey already wanted to call Pacey to find out what was happening. What a moronic decision to stay behind to look after Bessie, she scolded herself. Her sister was currently in her son's bedroom with Bodie and Alexander watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by using a battery-operated portable DVD player. They were trying to distract the kid from the hurricane and his missing beloved grandfather. There was no need to worry about her sister. Bessie had this situation under control.
Joey wished she could say the same about herself.
She shrugged and said to Andie, "I've been better. Some kind of party, huh?"
"Well, it is a smashing success for some" Andie chirpily replied, glancing across the room. "Someone looks smitten."
Joey followed her gaze to where Grams gently rocked a sleepy Amy while she quietly conversed with Scully. The widower sat there with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes, completely captivated by the great-grandmother.
It was nice to see Scully with a genuine smile, Joey thought. She had only known the man for a year, but the first word that came to mind to describe him was lonely. He'd always seemed like a wanderer who was stuck in an endless maze, not really knowing which way to go. Scully had brought dinner to Pacey and Joey every evening right after Joey's surgery, but Scully was the one who'd seemed starved for a sense of belonging. He missed his wife so much. Joey knew all too well what losing a loved one could do to you.
She didn't want to relive that experience again any time soon.
No, what the hell was she doing? Joey shook herself. She wouldn't go down that unfriendly, dark path. She was fed-up of thinking in life and death terms. That was why she'd had a preventive mastectomy for God's sake, to have peace of mind. Pacey and her father, along with Dawson and Gretchen, would be fine, Joey refused to entertain otherwise.
"Jo…Joey, are you all right?" Andie waved a hand in front of her.
Joey blinked a couple times to focus on the present. "Sorry, Andie, what did you Say?"
Her friend gave a sympathetic smile. "I don't blame you for being distracted. And you probably don't need a reminder, but it's Pacey, you know. He has gotten out of a lot of tight jams. I mean, you guys spent a whole summer sailing down to the Florida Keys and probably had a few encounters with nasty weather to deal with, you know. This is just another storm, and they will find them."
Joey nodded and sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's just that after this past year, a simple wedding without drama or a crisis sounded ideal. This wasn't what I imagined when I asked you to be a bridesmaid." Asking Andie and Audrey to be her bridesmaids seemed strange and awkward to outsiders, Joey knew. After all, they both dated the groom-to-be, but as Jen had once put it, they were an incestuous group. More importantly, though, they were all able to remain friends despite that intricate history.
"Are you kidding?" Andie laughed. "Prepping for a hurricane sure beats a double-shift in the ER. This is a welcoming reprieve, actually."
The two friends continued to chat about how grueling Andie's work schedule was as a second-year resident. For a few minutes, Joey was able to put her mind on something else besides those she loved out there in the hurricane—until Jack's aggravated voice carried over as he walked into the living room from one of the bedrooms.
"Doug, no," Jack was speaking into his cell, "I wasn't in the room when Pacey and Gretchen decided to go out…They have minds of their own, you know. Don't take your frustration out on me." He fell silent and his face relaxed a bit. "Yeah, me too," he replied softly before ending the call.
"Did the sheriff have any news, or did he just call you to yell at you, Jack?" Drue asked as he leaned against the archway between the kitchen and living room, sipping his God-knows-what-number-of-beer in the last half hour.
Jack narrowed his eyes at the other guy before picking up his slumbering toddler from Grams' lap.
"Is everything okay, dear?" Grams asked Jack.
He sighed. "Doug's just worried about his family, and he's gonna go out to the restaurant."
"Finally," Drue mumbled.
"What's your problem, man?" Jack whispered harshly, careful not to wake his daughter.
Drue shrugged. "It, uh, it just seems Pacey's brother just likes to boss him around and not take action himself."
Jack scoffed. "You have some nerve, you know. What are you doing here, anyway, Drue? You and any kind of get-together shouldn't mix. I haven't forgotten that incident where your actions with Ecstasy resulted in my sister almost getting killed." He looked over at Andie.
"Oh, my Lord," Scully muttered from his seat, his eyes flying back and forth between the two men like two ping pong balls.
"Children, the baby's gonna wake up," Grams reprimanded. "It's not time to argue."
Joey thought the same and was just about to leap in when Andie beat her to it.
"Please, let's quit this." Andie stood, holding up her hand. "Let's not rehash ancient history okay? Especially when I was at fault as well and don't want to rehash it. Jack, just go put Amy to bed."
"Yeah, you guys are right," Jack exhaled heavily, tightening his hold on Amy. After one more disgusted look at Drue, he walked down the hall to the bedrooms.
"I'm sorry, you know," Drue said to Andie.
"Yeah, me too," she simply replied before following her brother.
Joey saw the regret in Drue's eyes and found herself saying, "Drue, why don't you learn from your past mistakes. It's not easy, believe me, I know, but it's better than regretting and taking it out on the wrong people."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Stop projecting and just call Cheryl."
"Thank you, Dr. Freud," Drue saluted her before stumbling back into the kitchen, probably for another beer.
"I better go talk to the kid." Scully stood and went after his employee.
Grams shook her head and said to Joey, "That boy's still so stubborn and hard-headed, isn't he?"
"That's one way of putting it," Joey replied, "but he's been a good friend to Pacey. Drue actually helped him set up his wedding proposal." Her mouth tugged up as that night raced to the forefront of her mind. "I love you. I just love you, Jo. That fact won't change. It won't be wavered or deterred until my last breath. It's one assurance that you can always count on. It's a guarantee that has always been with you even when we were apart...Will you marry me, Miss Josephine Potter?" Joey would never forget Pacey's blue eyes holding her gaze with such raw vulnerability, putting his heart on the line for her one last time.
Oh, God, it wasn't the time to reminisce, Joey thought as she forced the memory away. She picked up her cell from the coffee table. With all the drama with Jack and Drue, fifteen more minutes had passed. Where was Pacey? What was happening? The winds were still bellowing outside, not letting up. How much damage could be out there? If something—.
Her cell buzzed.
Joey looked down at the phone number flashing on the screen. Her dad's cell.
She quickly answered. "Hey, Dad?"
"Joey—yeah, honey, Jo, it's— me," Mike replied between waves of static.
"Dad, are you okay?" Joey asked, a flood of relief was already spreading through her body.
"Yeah—I'm soaked—to the— bone, but I'm— okay."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Thank God." She opened them back up. "Is Pacey there with you?"
"Pacey? No—I'm alone here—at the—restaurant."
Joey tensed. "If you're there alone, where is John Witter?"
…
Pacey pulled over to the side of the road and quickly jumped out of the jeep. The heavy rain slapped him right into the face, making it difficult to navigate even a few feet across the road. He swiftly covered his head with the hood of his raincoat as he ran to his father's pickup. "Hurry up!" Pacey called to Dawson and Gretchen over the gale-force winds that were trying to topple them.
Pacey took a quick scan down the street and around the surrounding area. It was deserted. Not one other soul was out taking a risk. He turned back to the hood of the pickup. It was buried in the shrubs that were canopied by swaying pine trees. He glanced again over at the fallen tree laying across the street. He deduced that they needed to act hastily before they were ambushed by another tree.
His legs carefully stepped into the soggy ditch and he went down the slight incline to the Ford's driver side door. Pacey glanced up to see Dawson work his way to the passenger side and then his eyes fell back on the driver's window. Through the pane, Pacey saw first the deflated airbag over the steering wheel and then his eyes made out his father's head resting back against the seat—unmoving.
"Oh, fuck no!" Pacey yelled. With his adrenaline pumping, he yanked open the door. "Pop! Pop!" He bent down and stuck his head inside the truck.
"Pacey! Is he all right?" Gretchen shouted right behind him, nudging her way closer in the tight space of the opened door. "Is he okay?"
Pacey had his index and middle fingers by the side of John's neck to check for a pulse when the former sheriff jerked his head. The weighty breath Pacey didn't know he was holding escaped his lungs.
"Oh, thank God," Gretchen muttered.
"Pace?" John groaned, his face contorting into grimace like he was bottling up a God-awful scream of agony that he wouldn't dare express around his son. "Pacey, Gretch, what—what the hell are you doing here?"
Of course, why would the guy show any sign of gratefulness? Pacey sighed. "We came here to rescue you guys," he said with just a twinge of sarcasm.
"Um, Pacey!" Dawson called to him from the other side of the vehicle. "There's just one individual in need of rescuing."
He looked across to Dawson's creased forehead and an empty passenger's seat.
Pacey froze for a second and then turned back to his father. "Where's Mike?"
"He, he went, uh, went to get help," John breathed through gritted teeth as his complexion turned the shade of a Beefsteak tomato. "Uh, at the Icehouse. Couldn't get, uh, get a signal on my, my phone. My back's, uh, uh killin' me. Can't move."
"Okay, Pop, we have to get you outta here, "Pacey told his father as the rustling of the trees seemed to get louder. Mike had the right idea by not waiting for help to come to them. Another tree could fall at any moment. The Icehouse was just up the block and around the corner, Pacey knew, even though it was one hell of a trek in these current conditions. But Mike was most likely safe and sound by now.
John shook his head stubbornly. "I can't move, Pacey. I'll wait for an, uh, ambulance. I can't move."
His father had never looked so vulnerable as he did in this particular moment, Pacey thought, not even after his heart attack had he looked this defeated. John Witter had always made sure to keep his tough guy persona on full display. Pacey wished they could pull or back the pickup out of the ditch, but he already knew that the ditch was too deep and the tires were seeped in mud. They had to carry his father out. "We need to move you now," Pacey argued, "before a tree crushes this pickup, okay?"
"I'll take my chances," John replied gruffly.
"Don't be ridiculous, Pop." Gretchen sighed.
Pacey looked his father straight in the eye and said, "For once in your miserable life, listen to me. You are not gonna ruin my wedding by being crushed by a fucking pine tree. As much as I wish I could say I wouldn't give a damn, I can't." He paused and then softened his voice for a final plea. "Please for once, trust me and let's get outta here."
After what seemed like an eternity, John nodded. "All right."
"Thank you." Pacey replied a bit dryly, but relief ran through his body
"I'll pull the jeep a little closer," Gretchen said as she took the keys from the pocket of Pacey's coat, then took off toward the other vehicle
"Dawson," Pacey said to the other man, still not relinquishing the role as leader, "Could you come around and we can carry him out from under his shoulders?"
Dawson nodded and ran to Pacey's side. Despite some grunts from the former sheriff, the two men were able to maneuver John's legs outside the vehicle and get him into a sitting position. Both Pacey and Dawson put an arm around the injured man's back and slowly lifted up and out into the storm.
As the sky darkened into night and rain whipped around them, Pacey and Dawson walked on each side of John, bearing most of his weight.
Gretchen had the jeep parked just a few feet away off to side, and she was already holding the backdoor opened. "C'mon, hurry up!" she yelled at them.
Pacey opened his mouth to release a sarcastic retort and—.
"PACEY, LOOK OUT!" Dawson screamed.
Pacey's eyes snapped toward Dawson whose own eyes were fixated on something above. Pacey lifted his head up to see what it was and was struck on the side of his skull, making his arm slip from his father's shoulders before he fell onto muddy, rain- drenched ground.