Author's Notes: I apologize profusely for the delay. Before posting this chapter, I realized the back half of this fic needed a complete overhaul, but I was in the middle of Nanowrimo and couldn't even really get back to it until after the Christmas holidays. It has ballooned since January, with an additional two parts and 30,000 words. I'm still unsatisfied with some parts, but if I work on it anymore, it's going to drive me mad. Thus, again, calling it finished, and hoping that's for real this time. Sorry again.
Part Five
I.
Joey awoke in a panic, remembering the night before, what she had asked.
Pacey's side of the bed was empty. He was already at work. But a note stuck to his pillow read, Second thoughts yet, Potter?
Joey read it, laughed, and shook her head.
When Pacey started work at his new restaurant, The Main Event, he quit the marina job. He and Joey both arranged to have Wednesdays off, so they would have one day a week for their family.
One warm Wednesday in June, they were walking Andersen's stroller around the park when Pacey broached the subject for the first time.
"So is this going to be one of those ten-year engagements where we never actually get married? 'Cause gotta tell you, Potter, between the not telling anyone and not talking about it with you, being engaged doesn't feel any different from how it was before. Not that there was anything wrong with the way it was before. I'm a happy man, Jo, the happiest. It's just—"
"Pacey, shut up. You're doing that rambling thing again. It's annoying."
"See, it's only annoying you because the topic is marriage. Usually, you find it charming." He gave her his best shit-eating grin.
Joey couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Okay, you win. I've been freaking out. But it's no good talking about it yet, because Jen is with her parents this summer, and she would kill us if we did this without her."
"All the more reason to start talking about it now. Get you used to the idea while there's no pressure."
Joey was saved from having to answer by Andersen dropping his bottle and starting to cry.
Two weeks later, while they were lying awake in the sweltering, un-air-conditioned attic, Joey told Pacey, "I want a small wedding. Tiny. Minuscule."
Pacey grinned at her, clearly thrilled she brought up the subject of her own volition. "Tiny as in Bessie's backyard and only blood relations, or tiny as in no one finds the license until we're both death of carbon monoxide poisoning?"
"You used that example because that's the only way you don't die before me," Joey muttered. Sweat pooled at the back of her neck and made her miserable. "How about tiny as in two witnesses and a justice of the peace when we pick up our license?"
"Okay. Jen has to be one, and the other..." Pacey let the name hang unsaid in the air between them, before adding quietly, "Unless you plan on no rings either, he'll find out eventually, Jo."
Joey sighed. "I know. And it's not that. Truly, it's not. Dawson seems happy with your sister. We're all good with each other. I just..."
Pacey rolled over on the sticky mattress and faced her. "Just what, Jo?"
She mirrored his position. "I don't want that day to be about him. I know he'll be hurt if we don't ask him, but that's how I feel."
"If it wasn't so hot, I'd be kissing you senseless right about now."
"If it wasn't so hot, I'd let you."
II.
Joey spent the summer break after her freshman year of college back in Capeside, helping Bessie with the B&B and working at the yacht club. Pacey, still in Boston, tried to convince her to stay with him and work in the city. Joey had resisted. Her attempts to achieve emotional independence would collapse under that kind of intimacy.
In other words, it was easier trying to fall out of love with him at a distance. Easier, but not actually possible. Joey tried to prepare herself by imagining the various ways they could end—bitter, explosive fights where he blamed her for holding him back; phone calls from foreign ports where he stumbled his way into telling her he'd met someone new; mornings where he slipped out of her bed and her life without a word. Once, she imagined him dead in a shipwreck, but that brought on memories of the night the True Love sank and the overwhelming dread it inspired.
But every weekend, there was Pacey, squiring her around to Capeside's few places of interest or lounging beside her on the beach. Loving her and being lovable and destroying in moments the work of a week.
The dichotomy made Joey snappish. She picked fights for no reason, and Pacey knew it, called her on it. He tried to get her to confide in him, but she couldn't tell him. He would dismiss her fears as irrational, she knew; he would assure her that he was hers for keeps. He might even make her believe him, and then she would be doubly broken when he left.
One night in August, they sat on the dock in front of her house. There had been another knock-down, drag-out earlier in the day. Though Joey had apologized, she could feel the tension in the arm Pacey wrapped around her shoulders.
"Do you want to be rid of me, Jo?"
Joey pulled away in horror at Pacey's soft question. "What!? How could you think that? No!"
"I'm not making you happy any more."
"Don't say that. Don't even think that." She kissed him fiercely. The day she lost him might be nearing, but Joey was determined to put it off as long as possible. "I know I've been moody. I wish I could explain why. But it's not you, Pace. I'll always want you."
"Good to know. 'Cause I'm always going to be yours," he whispered into her hair.
III.
Summer brought the dispersal of their little gang. Dawson and Jen had broken up for some indecipherable reason, so he was off to L.A. with his Audrey-starring movie—and Audrey herself, who was going home, much against her will—while Jen went on vacation with her awful parents. Jack stayed in Boston. Joey and Pacey headed back to Capeside.
Joey wasn't looking forward to another Capeside summer, which lived in her memory as insufferably hot and endlessly tedious, but it turned out to be one of the best summers of her life. She got her old job at the yacht club back; Pacey picked up one working security at the marina. But he spent so much time in the club's kitchen visiting Joey and pestering Michel, the chef, for recipes and techniques that eventually Michel hired him on as an assistant cook.
Few of Joey's golden memories originated at work, however. Watching Alex and Lily play at the park while having heart-to-hearts with Bessie and Gail. Days escaping the heat with Pacey at the beach, and nights lying outside beside him counting stars. The Fourth of July picnic when Dawson flew back and Jack drove down and all four of them got just the right amount of drunk, so the whole evening was a hazy, happy blur. The weekend Pacey took her to Boston for a gallery opening, and the one where Jen invited her to New York for all the sight-seeing she missed during their last trip. Waking to the smell of bacon and the sight of Pacey helping Bodie fix breakfast at the B&B.
All in all, Joey was a touch regretful to reach summer's end, though this was soon subsumed in excitement over her new classes and joy in seeing all her friends again. Michel recommended Pacey to a position at a new restaurant and had him seriously thinking about culinary school, if he could arrange the financing.
Dawson's movie hadn't brought him the instant fame he desired, so he was back in Boston for another year of film school. He returned with an actress girlfriend in tow. Jen immediately hated her; Joey did, too, for less personal reasons. Pacey, Dawson, and Jack leased an apartment together, which they fondly dubbed "Capeside House." Joey and Jen, less picturesquely, but more accurately, called it "the Pit."
Audrey returned from L.A. an emotional and physical wreck. Her parental trauma, combined with a summer of booze, drugs, and men, had turned the party girl into a ticking timebomb.
Joey's birthday arrived shortly after the start of the fall semester. Dawson was the only one of her friends to mention it, and he insisted on taking her out to dinner.
"I find this mass silence on the subject troubling," Joey told him, scowling. "Either you are my only true friend, or there's a surprise party in the works. Given how well those have played out for us in the past, it's about time we declared a moratorium on them, don't you think?"
Dawson smirked. "I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of said party. Open your present."
Dawson gave her a Hollywood snowglobe, the kind he could pick up in any airport giftshop. Not the most personal gift Joey had ever received, but a nice memento of her friend, and her thanks were sincere.
Joey wasn't unduly surprised to be showered with confetti when she entered her dorm room, but Pacey's two red party hats affixed like devil's horns made her laugh. So did Audrey's gift, a ridiculous, fuzzy, blue pillow to match Audrey's atrocious pink one. But Pacey's present—a beaded necklace that echoed her mother's bracelet—made her cry.
"That wasn't too awful, was it?" Pacey prompted as he slid into Joey's narrow dorm bed beside her hours later. The others had all left, even Audrey, who was spending the night at Jen's. "Nobody made a scene, nobody threw up. By Capeside standards, a rousing success."
"Remind me of that while I'm cleaning confetti off my stuff for the next month." But Joey snuggled in close, rubbing her forehead against his nose. "It was perfect, Pace. Thank you."
"I live to please. Speaking of which, what shall it be for the birthday girl, Little Women or Room With a View?"
Joey grabbed the hand with which Pacey was reaching for her nightstand books, the movement drawing her across his body. "You. Just you."
Pacey grinned up at her. "You're getting forward in your old age, Miss Potter, but, as I said, I live to please."
I.
"How 'bout Doug?" Pacey asked as he strode up the stairs one day in September.
Joey had spent the afternoon trying to balance her first school assignments of the year with keeping Anders from pulling everything out of the drawers of her desk. "What about Doug?"
"For the second witness."
Joey blinked blankly at him.
"Best man. Our wedding."
"Oh, Pacey, I can't think about that right now. I've got two more essays and thirty trig problems due tomorrow, and Anders is—"
"On his way to the park with Daddy," cut in Pacey, scooping up the infant and tossing him in the air. Joey hated when Pacey did that, but Anders squealed, delighted. "But first, agree with me that Doug makes sense for second witness. I mean, Dawson can't be hurt, which he would be if we picked another friend like Jack, and I know you like Dougie because you made me name my kid after him."
Joey sighed. "Give me space and silence for the next three hours, and you can have Charles Manson stand up with you for all I care."
Pacey placed a soft kiss on her forehead and headed toward the stairs, baby in arms. "I'll take that as a yes."
II.
During her second year at Worthington, Joey needed to find a job. Her finances demanded it, and it would be one more way to carve out her own life, separate from Pacey.
The literature professor with an opening for a research assistant was a dickhead, so she went for yet another waitress position, this time at a bar called Hell's Kitchen. Despite the name, it wasn't a rough joint. Joey liked most of her co-workers—a big step-up from the yacht club—especially the British girl, Emma. The only downside was a tall, brooding bartender named Eddie.
"He's an asshole," was her succinct summation of him to Pacey after their first meeting.
Eddie, who happened to be teacher's pet in her lit. class, criticized everything in Joey's life, from her schoolwork, to her friends, to the way she waited tables. He drove her crazy, and Audrey's repeated remarks about how hot he was only furthered Joey's irritation.
But Eddie had unexpected depths. He attended classes at a school in which he wasn't enrolled, because he couldn't afford it. He defended Joey to the dickhead professor. He wrote the most beautiful collection of short stories she'd ever read.
One night, as they were closing up the bar, he kissed her. The rush of excitement she felt surprised her, and Joey kissed him back before her brain kicked in, and she pushed him away.
"What are you doing?" she spluttered. "I have a boyfriend!"
"For now."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Eddie shrugged. "I've watched you when he comes in here. You hold yourself away; you're immediately tense. You're getting ready to end it."
"That's not—I'm not the...I love Pacey. We're fine."
"My mistake then." Eddie wiped down the bar like nothing had happened.
Joey went to Pacey's boat—a different one this year, but still a boat—and let herself in. He was already asleep, and she stood for long minutes watching him in the dim light from the porthole. She took in his hair, sticking every which way on the pillow, the soft flutter of his eyelashes on his cheek, the way his arm fell across the bed, over the place where she should be.
Eddie was wrong, she decided with relief. She loved Pacey as much as ever. What Eddie saw was only the reflected fear of Pacey leaving her.
Content with her reasoning, Joey slid into bed at Pacey's side. He woke just long enough to nuzzle her neck and wrap around her body. Joey fell asleep to the sound of his breath in her ear.
She didn't tell him about the kiss.
IV.
Joey took up running in the mornings. It was her "me" time. She got very good at it.
She chopped her hair off right below the chin. It wasn't a style choice. Andersen had grabby little fingers and a firm grip.
She picked education as a major. She didn't love it as much as some of the fine arts, but it seemed more practical. Practicality was the rule of law in Joey's life these days.
The summer after her freshman year, she spent in Boston. Jen was away with her parents, but Mrs. Ryan and Jack remained. Between them, they were able to cover baby-sitting while Joey took a few courses and went to work at a local bar and grill.
Joey flirted shamelessly with the bartender Eddie. She even surprised herself by going to bed with him one night. The sex was good, a release she hadn't had in months and desperately needed. But she missed a test the next day, and Andersen suffered a bout of colic while she was gone. The whole affair served as confirmation that her life was too full for romantic entanglements.
Bessie forwarded her Capeside mail. It mostly consisted of the stacks of postcards from Pacey. Joey barely glanced at them anymore, just dumped them in the shoebox under her bed. Andersen might want them someday.
I.
Anders celebrated his first birthday. The red velvet cake Pacey baked was far too fancy for being smashed into bits by clumsy fingers. Mrs. Ryan's house was stuffed full of friends and family and way too many presents for a baby who just wanted to play with the wrapping paper.
"So when's the next adorable little brat coming?" asked the always-inappropriate Audrey.
"God. Not until school's done, at least," Joey said with a roll of her eyes.
"And when's the wedding?" Mrs. Ryan asked pointedly.
Joeys' favorite thing about her secret engagement was not giving Grams gloating rights. She caught Pacey's eye over Anders' head. He raised his eyebrows, seconding the question. Joey shrugged.
III.
Joey's professors were meaner her sophomore year, her course load heavier, and Audrey continued her downward spiral. Joey got a job as waitress at Pacey's new restaurant and was glad she did; between her studies and his long work hours, they might never have seen each other. She took to spending more nights at the Pit than in her dorm. It wasn't only the lure of Pacey which drew her there. Audrey's behavior had reached a point where Joey, unable to help her or get her roommate to talk about it, found it impossible to be around her. Especially while trying to study.
Joey's birthday was the last time all of her friends were in the same room together for months. Jen and Dawson were avoiding each other. He continued to keep company with Natasha, the C-list celebrity, while Jen started dating a gorgeous and personality-deficient guy she met volunteering for a crisis line.
Right before Thanksgiving break, Jen made an extraordinary gift to the group. Tickets to a No Doubt concert for all, even Dawson and his girlfriend. Joey was so excited that Pacey had ample material for teasing her over the days and hours leading up to the event.
But Audrey showed up late and drunk—again—and greeted Jen by proclaiming, "Jen, sweetie, it's so nice of you to invite me, even after I fucked your boyfriend."
Jen went preternaturally still, then said, "Excuse me," and made her way out of the crowd without a look back at C.J.
"Jen, wait—" C.J. made a halfhearted attempt to follow her.
Pacey stepped in his way, splayed hand pushed against the other man's chest. "Pretty sure you've done enough."
"Pace," Joey warned. This wasn't their fight.
"For God's sake!" Dawson snarled and took off after Jen.
Natasha stood there, hands on hips, and shook her head as he abandoned her to comfort his ex. "Figures."
With a little more prompting from Joey, Pacey released C.J., who left, possibly to find Jen, possibly fleeing from her angry friends. Audrey dropped into her seat and a drunken stupor, heedless of the havoc she'd caused. Joey tried to enjoy what was left of the concert. Jen, Dawson, and C.J. never reappeared. Joey wished Jen had returned. Screaming the lyrics to "Ex-girlfriend" would have been therapeutic for her.
Joey and Pacey took Audrey back to the dorms with them, while Jack and his boyfriend David offered to drive Natasha wherever she needed to go.
"The airport sounds about right," she said coolly.
Pacey and Joey half-walked, half-carried Audrey out to Pacey's car. "This can't last, Jo," Pacey said after unloading their unconscious friend into the back seat. "Something has to break."
What broke was Pacey's car and Dawson's house.
It was Christmas. Pacey and Joey and a tentatively reunited Dawson and Jen all returned to Capeside for the holiday. Audrey was a last-minute addition, after she missed her own flight home. Joey had a bad feeling about it from the start, but she couldn't let her friend spend Christmas alone.
And Joey had her own problems. Her father was out of prison again and spending his first Christmas in years with the family. It was also his introduction to Pacey as her boyfriend.
"Pacey Witter? The sheriff's son?" was Mike Potter's first, incredulous response, followed immediately by, "What about Dawson?"
"That ended when he made me send you to prison," Joey snapped without thinking.
Her father's face clouded. "I deserved to go to prison, Joey. I'm a criminal. And I would hate to think I was what stopped you from being with someone you loved."
"I love Pacey. Dawson and I wouldn't have lasted, with or without you. We work better as friends, always have. But Pacey...I hope you'll make an effort to like him, Dad, because if you want to be in my life, he's a non-negotiable part of it."
Her dad did try, and Pacey pulled out all the stops charming him. Joey's Christmas might have gone surprisingly well, if Audrey hadn't turned up drunk and stoned to the Leery Christmas dinner. When Dawson suggested she sleep it off, Audrey faced them down with a succinct, "Fuck you all," and headed out the door.
"I'd better go after her." Joey rose reluctantly from the table.
Pacey jumped up as well. "I'll get our co—"
That was the moment Audrey drove Pacey's Mustang through Dawson's living room wall.
Doug was a fellow dinner guest, so there was no hiding what had happened from the law. He checked Audrey over for critical injuries; she was only scraped and bruised. He called an ambulance then placed a groggy, disoriented Audrey under arrest.
Joey tugged on Pacey's sweater. "Can't you do something?"
Pacey's face was stony. "Convince Deputy Do-right to ignore the law? Please. Even if I could, I wouldn't. If you had been ten feet closer to the door, she would have hit more than just the house." He wrapped his arms around Joey's waist and pulled her close. "Maybe it's for the best, Jo. She'll get the help she needs now."
Joey rested her head against his shoulder, using Pacey's presence to block out both the cold and the sorrow. "I just feel like such a failure as a friend. I should have found some way to stop it before she reached this point."
"You can't save someone who won't let you. Take it from someone who's been on both sides of that equation." He laid a gentle kiss on her brow. "Come on. You can help Gail pack Lily's things, while Dawson and I winter-proof their new floor-to-ceiling window."
"In other words, womenfolk inside with the little 'uns, while the big, strong men safeguard the homestead." She swatted his stomach.
"Oof," Pacey said, with an exaggerated display of pain. "Hey, if you want to brave the twenty degrees and wind chill factor, be my guest. I'm more than happy to cuddle a baby in the heated nursery."
"It's hard to argue when you put it like that."
Pacey shot her a confident smile as he headed outside. "That's the idea."
Audrey's father had a Boston lawyer for her the next day. He arranged for the Liddells to cover the cost of repairs to the Leerys' home and Pacey's car in exchange for dropping the property charges. For the rest, Audrey got off with a suspended license and a stint in rehab. The lawyer had her on a plane to California within the week.
While she didn't miss Audrey's behavior over the last few months, Joey did miss her friend. Audrey called her three weeks into rehab and apologized for all of it. Joey was relieved to hear Audrey sounding like herself again.
II.
Joey was packing for Christmas break when Pacey found her. She took one look at his face and knew. "How long this time?"
Pacey didn't answer her question directly. "I wouldn't go, Jo, but it's Fiddlesticks, that boat I've been working on for months. They're going to take her around the world, and they've asked me to come along. Do you know how rare it is to sail around the world? And on a boat I helped build."
"How. Long."
"Anywhere from two to five months. It's hard to know in advance."
Five months. He was blithely leaving her for half a year. Joey refused to cry. This was what she'd been preparing herself for all this time. "When do you leave?"
"New Year's. We can still have Christmas together."
The last Christmas, thought Joey. She didn't mention the rules. She didn't see the point.
Christmas was an epic disaster.
Mike Potter, unwilling to see beyond the ideal Dawson and punk kid Pacey of their youth, was markedly unsupportive of Joey and Pacey's relationship. Joey was too upset about Pacey leaving to offer up much of a defense. So Pacey was sleeping on Doug's couch, instead of Joey's bed, for the duration of their stay in Capeside.
After a bad summer at home, Audrey's drinking and partying were out of control. She showed up trashed to Christmas dinner at the Leerys and lambasted them all, calling them out on their drama.
It started with a run at Dawson and Pacey, pretending to be friends when everyone knew they hated each other. Then she turned on Dawson specifically. "Dawson the Long-suffering. Dawson the Saint. Dawson, whose heart will always belong to sweet little Joey Potter, no matter how many actresses he bangs. Do you really not get it? She doesn't want you! Even if she and Popeye the sailor-man broke up tomorrow, she still wouldn't want you.
"And as for you," she turned on Joey, "perfect Potter, the girl every guy wants and every girl wants to be. You know what? I don't see it. You're selfish and self-righteous and so repressed that one day you're just going to explode, and what a glorious mess that will be."
"You're out of line, Audrey."
"Ah, the knight in shining armor speaks up at last. I mean, you are the perfect boyfriend, right, Pacey? Except that pesky disappearing act of yours. You know, all those months when she cries herself to sleep while you're living it up at every sleazy port in the world."
"That is quite enough," Mitch Leery said, rising from the table. "You've disrespected my son and your friends, as well as myself and my wife, who were kind enough to host you, a complete stranger. Now, go upstairs and sleep it off."
Tears filled Audrey's eyes. She took a step back and looked at the door, as though prepared to run for it.
"Upstairs, Audrey," Mitch repeated.
Unused to the display of parental authority, Audrey obeyed. Jen, less directly impacted by Audrey's words and knowing a bit about self-destructive behavior herself, helped her to bed.
Awkward silence reigned for a minute. Pacey, predictably, broke it. "And here I thought I was avoiding a scene by not having Christmas with my folks."
Pacey tapped on her window while Joey was getting ready for bed that night. Joey opened it and pulled him in out of the cold.
"Is this really the night for a booty call, Pace?"
"Was she telling the truth, Jo?"
"Who? When?" Joey evaded the question as she shut out the snowy night.
"Audrey. About you, when I'm gone."
"Please. I'm not the cry all night type," Joey lied. "What about you? Got a girl in every port, sailor?"
"You know I don't."
"Exactly. Audrey was drunk and full of shit. Now, since you're here, come to bed and warm me up. The furnace is on the fritz again."
"I'll stay if you want me to, Jo."
"Didn't I just ask?"
"Not that. I mean, yes, of course, I'll spend the night. And look at the furnace in the morning." Pacey shed his coat. "But the trip. If you don't want me to go, say the word."
And have you hate me for it? Joey thought. Not a chance. "Take your trip. Have fun. Bring me back something pretty."
Pacey didn't smile at her lighthearted response. If anything, he looked...disappointed? "Whatever you say, Potter." He pulled off shirt, shoes and pants before climbing into bed with her. He kissed her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Jo."
"Merry Christmas, Pace."
She thought she wasn't alone in knowing it was their last one.
I.
Thanksgiving went by, Christmas, New Year's. Bessie and Bodie celebrated their anniversary. They still fought, they still laughed, and they still loved each other.
"Okay," said Joey. "Let's get the bloodwork and the license."
Pacey grinned. "You love me."
"Sixty days," Joey warned. "Sixty days to line up a justice of the peace, our schedules, and two clueless witnesses. Otherwise, it can just expire."
Pacey wrapped her in his arms and kissed her nose. "And they say you're not a romantic."
II.
To distract herself from the pain of Pacey's leaving, Joey started out the new year with a new project. She was going to convince Professor Dickhead to help Eddie out with his writing. It took some effort, but she finally got his endorsement on a scholarship program at a writing workshop in L.A. Then began the equally Herculean task of getting Eddie to accept it.
"I don't get it. Why are you doing all this for me?"
"I don't know. Maybe I hate to see a dream die."
Audrey's alcohol-fueled downward spiral bottomed out right as Eddie was heading for L.A. Her parents had arranged a stint in rehab for her, if Joey could get her to California. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Joey recruited Eddie to take her and Audrey with him.
But Audrey wasn't the least bit pleased to be going and spent most of the trip needling Joey with snide remarks about how Joey was only doing this to spend more time with Eddie.
"Not that I blame you," Audrey told her during one of their bathroom stops. "He's drop-dead gorgeous. I'd do him myself if he wasn't so clearly into you. But don't be a hypocrite and say this trip is about me. I'm just the beard for when your absentee boyfriend calls."
"You're not a beard, and I don't want Eddie."
"You want something, Joey. And you'd better figure out what it is before you hurt a bunch of people you love, something I know a bit about."
Joey didn't figure it out, though. Not until they reached the City of Angels, and it was time to say goodbye to Eddie. The moment when he went for a hug, and she countered with a kiss.
Joey hadn't lied to Audrey. She didn't want Eddie. She wanted to stop waiting for the ax to fall. She wanted an out.
Before flying back to Boston, Joey made time for an afternoon with Dawson. They went to his favorite beach. He told her about his new film project and his recent breakup with the latest actress.
She told him about the road trip and asked him to check in sometimes on Audrey.
Dawson groaned. "That girl is a walking disaster."
"That shouldn't bother you. You love disaster movies. Please, for me? She could use someone like you. You're a good friend to have, Dawson Leery."
"Fine. For you."
The silence lengthened while the wind pulled at Joey's hair and tried to whisper in her ears.
"How's Pacey?"
Joey watched the sailboats on the horizon. "Gone. You were right, Dawson. It was never going to last."
Pacey called two days after Joey got back to Boston. She could barely hear over the noise of the bar or party around him.
"Jo? Can you...going well...wind speed...March."
"Pacey, we need to talk."
"What? I can't hear you."
"It's over, Pacey."
"Hold on, still can't..."
"I said it's over! I kissed another guy!" Joey screamed into the phone.
Only then did she become aware of the lack of background noise on the other end. Pacey must have stepped outside just in time to hear her confession.
There was a long silence from his end.
"Pacey? Are you still there?"
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. She thought he might be crying. "Yeah, I'm here, Jo."
Tears sprang to her eyes at his soft words, but she forced them back. This was her choice. "I'm sorry, Pace."
"No, no, don't be. It's my fault. I had this coming. I hope..." Pacey's voice sounded thick; he cleared his throat again. "I hope he's good to you, that he's more what you deserve."
"Pace—"
"I gotta go, Jo. Be, uh, be happy, okay?" The line went dead.
Joey listened to the dial tone for a long time.
I.
There was no one like Pacey for making magic happen when he was sufficiently motivated. So on February 7, 2003, at approximately 1:17 p.m., Joey found herself in a Boston records office with Pacey, Andersen, Jen and Doug, who both thought they were headed to lunch until the moment Pacey pulled up at the courthouse.
Jen, holding Anders, was delighted. Doug grinned ear to ear. Joey tried not to hurl. "Let's get this over with," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"Are, are you sure you want to go through with this, miss?" asked the old man behind the desk. Something in Joey's face alarmed him.
"Tell her to look at the groom," Jen instructed. "She'll find it harder to scowl."
Pacey took her hands in his as Joey reluctantly turned to face him. He ducked his head, cerulean eyes searching hers. "You can still back out, Joey. It's okay."
Jen was right. It was impossible to look into Pacey's face and maintain an angry shield. But behind that shield, there was only terror. Joey squeezed his hands tight and lifted them between their chests. "Promise me it won't all end in flames?"
"You know I can't do that, Jo. I can only promise what I came here to swear, to love you until the day I'm dead."
Joey took a deep breath. "And the piece of paper really matters?"
Pacey kissed the back of her left knuckle, ring finger, bare for the last day. "Only if you say it does."
The piece of paper was just a symbol, so was the ring, but they told the world he was hers and she was his.
Joey nodded, finally certain. "It matters. Let's get married."
After the ceremony, it was Joey's turn to be surprised. Pacey had planned a mini-honeymoon for them. He had already asked Jen to watch Anders for the weekend, telling her it was a pre-Valentine's Day getaway, and he'd cleared Joey's work schedule with the same excuse.
He declined absolutely to tell her where they were headed. "You're the smart one. You'll figure it out."
She did. But not until several hours of driving and one unmistakable turnoff later. "Seriously, Pacey? The ski lodge? We don't even ski."
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. "All the more reason to go. Anyway, I'm devastated to discover I'm the only one sentimental enough to remember that two years ago today, this became a very important landmark in our lives."
Joey gaped at him. "Pace, please tell me you did not arrange our wedding so it would coincide with the day I lost my virginity."
"Not arranged, exactly. More of a fortuitous coincidence."
She swatted his arm. Hard. "That's it. I want a divorce."
"Sure, no problem," Pacey said as he parked outside the motel lobby. "First thing Monday morning. But for now, we've got the honeymoon suite, no baby, and we both hate to ski." He leaned in close to her with those pleading blue eyes.
Joey groaned and kissed him. "I suppose another seventy-two hours won't kill me."
Hours later, they lay entwined in the giant bed, Joey's back to Pacey's chest. He had taken her left hand in his and watched fascinated as the flames from the fireplace reflected off the thin gold bands.
"It doesn't seem real," he said in a hushed voice.
"You want to look at our copy of the certificate again?"
"Maybe later. It went by so fast. I kinda thought I would have a chance to say some stuff to you."
Joey kissed the line of his throat. "Pacey Witter, did you want to write your own vows?"
"Nah. I mean, after promising to love you 'til I'm dead, take care of our son, make you chocolate cake when you're PMS-ing and pick my dirty clothes off the floor, I ran out of ideas."
"Hmm, I imagine if I had thought about mine, they would have included love you 'til I'm dead, keep you as sexually satisfied as one woman can, coddle your overreactions to every little sniffle, and, if the day ever comes when you drive me to murder you, to feel enough remorse to make it a murder-suicide."
"Probably for the best we didn't, then. That poor clerk was scarred enough from the experience."
Joey turned the ring around Pacey's finger while he peppered kisses along her spine. "So, if not vows, what did you want to say?"
Pacey wrapped his arms around her waist over the covers. Joey laced her fingers through his and watched the flames flicker. "I guess I wanted to say how lucky I am. How I was fortunate enough to grow up knowing the most stubborn, infuriating, brilliant, gorgeous girl in the world, to be her friend...and sometimes her enemy. How I had the joy every day of watching her become even stronger and more beautiful and more extraordinary. How somehow, in a twist of fate I still don't comprehend, this girl actually grew to love me back. How two years ago today she gave me what I thought was the most precious gift in the world, and nine months later showed me I was wrong by giving me something even better. I wanted to say I love you, Joey, and it's not a cut and paste set of vows anyone could repeat. It is everyday I wake up with the privilege of sharing a life with you."
Joey hugged his arms tighter around her. The tears in her eyes blurred the firelight's glow. "I'm glad you didn't say those things then, Pace. Jen would have retched, Doug would have cried, and I would have been forced to say something sarcastic to restore order."
Pacey laughed against her shoulder. "As opposed to now, when you can snark without audience."
"As opposed to now, when I can memorize this moment for the rest of my life." She turned over in his arms, hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. "I am ridiculously, dementedly, indestructibly in love with you, Pacey Witter, and I made the smartest decision of my life today. I married the perfect boy."
"Careful, Mrs. Witter. Talk like that won't help you in the divorce proceedings."
Joey levered herself up and brushed his mouth with hers. "About that? I'm thinking seventy-two hours might be a tad hasty."
"Just a bit," Pacey agreed between kisses. "How much more time were you thinking to give us?"
She pushed him lower into the down mattress. "How about seventy-two years, give or take?"
"I could work with that."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Joey waited at the bottom of the stoop, arms folded, as she stared up at Pacey under the porch light.
Pacey looked back, his key already in the lock. "Are you kidding me? All the wedding traditions you couldn't care less about, and on this one, you insist?"
Joey grinned and nodded, biting her tongue between her teeth. "I'm pretty sure it's essential to future wedded bliss."
"I'm pretty sure it's going to throw my back out." But he dropped their bags on the steps and walked back to her. Pacey grabbed her waist in both hands and kissed the tip of her nose. "This is the last time, Potter."
"It's Witter now, and we'll see about that." Joey squealed in delight as Pacey swept her up into his arms.
He groaned. "Why couldn't I have married a petite little doll?"
"Because Jen finds you utterly unattractive." Joey kissed the underside of his chin.
Pacey shifted her weight, somehow managing to open the door without dropping her. He had one foot in the door, mouth opened to deliver some biting comeback, when the lights flashed on, amid shouts of "Surprise!"
Pacey's grip on Joey tightened instead of loosened. They both stared in shock at their assembled friends and family.
"You have a surprise wedding, you get a surprise wedding reception," Jen said from the front of the crowd.
"Don't just stand there, Pacey," Mitch Leery told him. "Bring your bride across the threshold."
Pacey obeyed to the cheers and whistles of the guests. While the newlyweds obliged their friends with a kiss, Jack brought in their bags and shut the door.
Bessie pulled Joey into a fierce hug. "I can't believe you got married without me!"
"Sorry, Bess," Joey mumbled, but could not hear her sister's reply as she was passed from arms to arms for whirlwind congratulations.
Mrs. Ryan was predictably smug. Gretchen glowed with joy. Sheriff Witter gave Joey a pat on the back and a gruff, "Welcome to the family."
Dawson took her hands and pulled her to the edges of the crowd. "Why didn't you tell me, Joey?"
Joey couldn't hold his gaze. "I'm sorry, Dawson." She tried to think of a palatable excuse, but had none.
"I'm sorry, too. My two best friends in the world got married, and I wasn't there. I could have recorded it for posterity. I don't suppose I could talk you into a reenactment?"
Joey laughed in relief. "Not yet. Try again when I have a few drinks in me."
"I'll hold you to that." Dawson finally hugged her. "Congratulations, Joey."
"Thank you, Dawson."
Jen pulled her away to join Pacey and Anders on the couch for presents. Anders was still enamored with wrapping paper, while Joey was humbled by the love and generosity of their family and friends.
As the party wound down, Pacey pulled her close, kissed her hair, and asked, "Regrets yet, Jo?"
Joey leaned her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. "No regrets. Ask me again ten years from now."
III.
"Boys are riddylus...ricu...riddle...stupid. Boys are stupid," an inebriated Joey confided to Jen.
Her friend laughed as she poured them both another drink. "You'll get no argument from me."
The three stupid boys in question were proudly displaying their monstrosity of a television set to the large crowd smashed into the Pit.
"I don't even know most of these people," Joey protested.
"Me, either. Let's assume everyone you don't know goes to film school, and everyone I don't know works at a restaurant and thus avoid confusion."
"You sound less drunk than me. But I know we've had all the same drinks," Joey pouted.
"I started young, built up a tolerance. You, Joey, are what we call a lightweight."
"Not true! I weigh way more than you. You're so short!" This struck Joey as exceedingly funny, and she patted Jen on the top of the head, giggling.
Jen grinned at her. "At least you're a fun drunk, Joey. That's better than me. I'm a slutty drunk."
Joey continued to laugh helplessly. "We should play spin-the-bottle!" She sloshed her drink in excitement.
"Sure, we'll play spin-the-bottle if you can name one guy in this room you actually want to kiss."
Joey scanned the room, looking for someone she liked or, failing that, knew. "Pacey!"
"Pacey is your boyfriend. You can kiss him whenever you want. Try again."
"Jack's a good kisser."
Jen snorted. "Yeah, he is. But unless you're willing to watch Jack kiss Pacey, I'm going to nix spin-the-bottle."
Joey sighed. "You're right." She paused, picturing it. "That might be kinda hot."
"Oh, it would be totally hot. But if the bottle was unkind and I kissed Pacey, you'd rip my throat out, and you know it. So, still, no." She deftly relieved Joey of her empty glass. "And that is your last drink, my friend, or fun, drunk Joey is going to become stomach-pump-needing Joey."
"Aww, thank you, Jen." She gave the small blonde a sloppy hug. "You're such a good friend. Isn't it funny how I used to hate you 'cause of Dawson, and now I love that you're with Dawson? You keep him safe from skanky actesses. Actesses? That's not right. What's right? Ugh, I don't feel so good."
Jen pulled out of the hug, but kept an arm around Joey for balance. "Hey, Pacey," she called. "If you can take a minute away from your new child, I think this big baby needs to go to bed."
"Are you tired, Jen?"
Before Jen could answer, another pair of arms wrapped around Joey's waist. "Lindley, did you get Potter drunk? What did we decide about that?"
"Um, that it's hilarious and needs to be preserved on film for generations to come."
"Damn right. So next time, make sure you have a camcorder on hand for these moments. Dating Dawson has to have some kind of perk."
"Mmm, I take my perks in the form of—"
"Finish that sentence, and I will puncture my own eardrums. How you doing, Jo?" He stroked one hand down her hair.
"I like that," Joey mumbled, snuggling closer to Pacey while Jen walked away.
"Like what?"
"You petting me like I'm your kitty-cat."
Pacey stifled a burst of laughter. "I want to say something so dirty right now, but you're too drunk to appreciate it."
"Something about my claws?" Joey dug her nails into his lower back and smiled up at him.
"Ow. Not remotely. And now, my intoxicated feline, do you want coffee or bed?"
"Bed, please," she said, kissing his throat. "And you. And all these people gone. They can take the stupid TV with them."
"Miss Josephine Potter, I do believe you're jealous of Bertha."
Joey pouted. "She's not as pretty as I am, but you've only looked at her all night."
"My abject apologies. Is there any way I can make it up to you?"
Joey wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled. "Carry me."
Pacey groaned. "This again?"
"Carry me or kiss Jack. Those are your choices."
"Why would you want me to kiss Jack?"
"Because it would be hot." The duh was implied.
"Well, you're not wrong, but I think, all things considered, I'll opt for what's behind door number one."
Faster than Joey's drunken mind could process, she was in Pacey's arms. Her equilibrium reoriented itself while Pacey carried her to his room. "I am a lovely drunk," she told him. "Jen says so."
"Jen is right, as usual." Pacey staggered into his darkened room, hitting the light switch with his elbow.
"You're not a fun drunk, Pace."
"I'm not?" He laid her gently on the bed before returning to close the door. The sounds of the party became muted.
Joey shook her head solemnly. "No, you're maudlin. Maudlin is the 'posite of fun. But it's better than mean. Dawson is a mean drunk."
"Guess that officially settles it, then. Only Joey gets to be drunk from now on." While he spoke, Pacey removed her shoes and pulled the covers over her.
"That's a good rule." Joey's eyes had drifted closed, when a sudden thought made her pull them open. "Hey! You were going to say something about my pussy, weren't you?"
Pacey laughed and kissed her forehead. "Night, Jo."
"Pig," she murmured, while settling deeper into the mattress.
"Sweet dreams." He flicked off the light.
II.
Once the deed was done, Joey had expected a feeling of relief, or at least release. Instead, there was nothing. A void in the inner kingdom where Pacey used to reign.
And she felt lonely. She told herself that wasn't about the breakup. Pacey was no farther away from her now than he had been before. It was because her roommate was missing, and Eddie was gone. Even Emma had moved back to England.
Joey tried to spend more time with Jack and Jen, but they were both in the giddy stage of new relationships. Being with them was more painful than being alone.
When her phone rang late one night, she pounced on it. "Pacey?"
"Wow, desperate much? What's the matter, bunny? Trouble in paradise?"
"Audrey." Relief warred with regret as Joey sank back onto her bed. "How are you?"
"Sober. It's a pretty terrible feeling, actually. And I'm going to have to beg your forgiveness for a dozen different crimes, for one of these stupid steps. But before I do, I have to tell you about another wrong I've done you, and, this time, I wasn't even drunk for an excuse."
"What could you have possibly done to me here, when you're across the country?"
"I kissed Dawson. I didn't mean to! He's been coming around here a lot, and I'm so bored, and he's sort of charming in a giant dork kind of way, and it just happened. I'm so, so, so sorry, Joey."
Joey laughed. "I'll forgive you on one condition."
"Anything."
"Next time you see Dawson, kiss him again."
"What! Are you serious?"
"Absolutely. You two might be good for each other. Or you might be a colossal disaster. Either way, it will make rehab more fun."
"Joey, have I mentioned that you are the best of all possible roommates, and a saint among women?"
"Mmm, I think 'cold, repressive bitch' has been your favorite moniker for me lately."
"God, Joey, I am the worst. I'm sorry."
"Forgiven. Just get better."
"Working on it. I was serious when I asked about Pacey earlier, though. Dawson said he thinks you two are on the outs."
"Dawson's right."
"This 'cause of Eddie?"
"No, this is because I'm a cold, repressive bitch, and he's an absentee boyfriend."
"You love each other, Joey."
"Yeah, well, as the song says, sometimes love just ain't enough."
Beware the Ides of March, wrote Shakespeare, and Joey was not one to gainsay the Bard. Especially when that was the day Pacey walked into her bar.
"Hey, Jo, can we talk?"
She waved the tray in her hands and gestured at the crowded room around them. "Little busy here."
"That's okay. I can wait." He took a stool at the bar.
Joey started to walk away, paused and turned back. "I'm glad you're home safe, Pacey."
A slow smile claimed Pacey's face. "Thanks, Jo."
Hell's Kitchen was packed that night, and Joey was working non-stop. But she managed to steal glances at Pacey throughout the evening. He looked tanned and fit, as he always did after one of his trips. He was also sporting about three days worth of stubble, which was a new look for him, and far sexier than it had any right to be. But there were circles under his eyes and a new, harder set to his mouth. Pacey looked good, but not happy.
A couple different times, women approached him. Joey didn't hear what was said, but they didn't linger long. That might be for her benefit. Best place to pick up chicks, not under your ex-girlfriend's nose.
Finally, Joey's shift ended. She wasn't in charge of closing, so she grabbed her coat and purse and tapped Pacey on the shoulder. "Walk me home?"
Pacey nodded. Always a gentleman, he helped her put on her jacket before they stepped into the brisk night air.
Afraid of what Pacey had to say, Joey opened the conversation herself. "So how was your trip?"
She expected Pacey's face to light up the way it always did when he talked about sailing. She thought she was in for stories about prize fish, freak storms and fast winds, interspersed with whatever raunchy new jokes he'd learned.
Pacey shrugged his shoulders and buried his hands in his pockets. "It was okay."
"'Okay'? Pacey, 'okay' is how you describe an algebra test. 'Okay' is not how you describe a once-in-a-lifetime, round-the-world adventure."
"What do you want me to say? That after you ripped my heart out, I just threw it overboard and went back to enjoying the view?"
Joey winced. "I'm sorry, Pacey."
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't come here to yell at you."
The obvious response was to ask why he did come, but Joey was afraid of the answer, so she said, "It's okay if you did. I deserve it."
"No, you deserve the truth."
Joey's mouth went dry. "What truth?"
"Do you remember—dumb question, of course you remember—senior year, when you got pregnant?"
Confused, Joey nodded. What could that have to do with anything?
"I had been thinking, for weeks I had been thinking, I'm going down, and I'm dragging her down with me. I had even decided, on that trip with Doug, that I needed to end things with you, for your own good. Then I found out you were pregnant, and nothing else mattered anymore because you needed me. Except you didn't, really. You knew what you wanted to do, and you did it, and the most I could do was hold your hand through it."
"Pacey—"
"No, that was good. Honestly. I told myself that if you realized a baby wasn't right for you, and you could cut it out of your life, then you could do the same to me, once you finally figured out I'm no good."
Was that what she had done? Cut Pacey out of her heart as easily as she'd aborted the fetus? It didn't feel the same to Joey.
"I'm not explaining this well. That realization, that epiphany was freeing for me. Suddenly, I didn't have to be the one to let you go. I could hold on, selfishly maybe, until you were tired of me. But then I got scared. I started thinking, when that day comes, what will I have left?"
"So you went sailing."
Pacey nodded. "Somewhere in my thick, confused brain, I thought sailing could be a retreat, a place to hide when things inevitably fell apart. I could use it to distance myself from you. But it didn't work. Dougie told me once that every time I looked at the stars, I would see your face, and he was right. I still do."
Joey averted her face, so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "Why are you telling me now?"
"I guess I wanted you to know why I left so often, to apologize for not treating you better."
"You treated me fine." Joey looked at her feet as they walked along. It was uncomfortable, uncomfortable and wrong, to walk all this way next to Pacey and not be touching him in some way.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to let you off the hook."
"Off the hook?"
"You shouldn't feel guilty for breaking up with me. I always knew it was coming, but I don't regret a single day I had with you."
They had reached the dormitory doors. Joey stopped and turned toward him, but her eyes remained on their feet. "I don't—I don't know what to say."
Pacey laughed, but there was a sob buried in it. "I think 'goodbye' pretty much covers it, don't you?"
Joey was numb. She wished her brain or her heart would start functioning fast enough to stop this, to change the ending, but they both remained stubbornly silent. "Goodbye, Pacey."
He took her hands in his, bowed low and kissed them. "Goodbye, Josephine Potter." Then he was gone.
Too sick to think, Joey walked down the hall to her room. A man was sitting in front of her door; he stretched out his lanky frame at her approach.
"Joey. Hey."
Joey froze. "Eddie. What are you doing here? Why aren't you in school?"
"Don't start until fall, and I'm here because...I can't stop thinking about that kiss."
"Eddie, no." Joey fumbled for her keys.
He grabbed her arms. "Hear me out. I know you have a boyfriend, but I also know no one makes the kind of effort you made for me unless they care. You kissed me in L.A. There's an attraction here, Joey, and a connection I think goes a lot deeper than that. Don't you owe it to yourself to explore that, before you tie yourself down to the wrong man?"
The wrong man. Dawson, who knew Joey better than anyone, was convinced she and Pacey couldn't last. Pacey had apparently spent their entire relationship believing he wasn't right for her. And Joey herself had accepted its finite nature and cut the cord.
Pacey was the wrong man. And this sickness in her belly, the heaviness in her limbs, the emptiness where her heart should be, they were just part of the breakup experience.
"Come in, Eddie," she said.
Joey slept with Eddie that night. If she waited, she would only second guess herself, only try spinning Pacey's speech into something it wasn't. Letting another man into her bed felt irrevocable. There would be no going back, and she needed that certainty.
She didn't orgasm. It wasn't Eddie's fault. He was a considerate lover and tried valiantly, probably would have kept trying if Joey hadn't taken pity on him. But Joey was never able to relax in new situations. She missed fingers that played her body like the strings of a violin and words that made her laugh even at the height of passion.
After Eddie fell asleep, Joey headed for the showers. She scrubbed her body until it was red and raw, then hid in a corner of the stall and sobbed until the water ran cold.
When she returned to her room, Joey watched Eddie sleeping for several minutes, then climbed into Audrey's empty bed. In the morning, she told Eddie she wasn't much of a cuddler. She also agreed to a date that night.
In the light of day, Joey berated herself for her ridiculous behavior. She hadn't done anything wrong. She and Pacey had been broken up for months. Pacey had probably bedded a dozen women by now. Didn't she believe women had the right to as much sexual freedom as men?
She went to bed with Eddie again that night, and she was entirely rational about it. She didn't cry. She didn't run for the showers. She didn't sleep in Audrey's bed. But she didn't come, either.
III.
They were both at work when he got the phone call.
"Pacey, your friend Dawson is on the line." Roberto, the manager, had left his office to deliver the message. That fact alone, when there were rules against taking personal calls at work, would have been enough to alert Joey something was wrong, even without Roberto's grim expression.
Pacey set down his carving knife and washed his hands without saying a word.
Joey held out her laden tray to another waitress. "Handle Table 11 for me, will you, Kim?"
"Sure thing, Joey." The bubbly blonde shot a worried look at Pacey before she went to the dining area.
Pacey grabbed the extension phone on the wall. Joey stood behind him, one hand resting on his back, the other worrying her lip. A hush had fallen over the bustling kitchen; those still working did so in silence.
"Hey, D, what's up?" There was a long silence. Joey wished she could hear the other side of the conversation. "When?...No, not when he called, when did it happen?...Okay. You mind throwing some clothes and stuff in a bag for me? I'll be there soon to pick it up...No, it's fine. Thanks, anyway. Bye." For a moment after he hung up the receiver, Pacey held onto it, unmoving.
"Pace? Pace, what's wrong? What happened?"
Pacey turned to face her with the jerky movements of someone not fully cognizant of their actions. "My dad had a heart attack."
"Is he okay? He's not..."
"He's in the hospital. Dawson didn't know much more. Dougie left a message on the machine. I gotta...I gotta go to Capeside."
"Of course. I'll go with you."
"You've got classes tomorrow."
"Just one, and no test or assignments due. I'll skip it. Let me come with you, Pace."
Pacey nodded, looking relieved. "Thanks, Jo."
Joey turned to Roberto, the only one of the staff not pretending not to eavesdrop. "Mr. Barajas—"
"It's fine, Joey. I'll arrange for your shifts to be covered the next three days. If you need more time than that, just give me twenty-four hours' notice. Pacey, I hope your father has a swift and thorough recovery."
"Thank you, sir."
Joey hurried Pacey, still in a daze, out to the car. Her offer to drive snapped him out of it.
"You? Drive my baby? She's only now recovered from what Audrey did to her."
She rested her hand on Pacey's knee as he drove them to the Pit. "Talk to me, Pace. What are you thinking? Better yet, what are you feeling?"
"When I figure that out, you'll be the first to know."
Their stop at Pacey's apartment was short, just long enough for Joey to add her toothbrush and a couple changes of clothes to Pacey's bag and to listen to Doug's actual message. Dawson, Jen, and Jack sent them off with hugs, well-wishes, and sandwiches for the road.
They were halfway to Capeside before Pacey spoke. "You'd think, after Mitch, this wouldn't have caught me so off-guard. But I can't wrap my head around it."
"No matter how old we are, we never want to think of our parents as mortal."
"I'm sorry, Jo, I wasn't—"
"No, Pacey. I wasn't playing the dead mom card. Or if I was, only in the sense that I know what you're going through, and I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
Pacey brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
When they reached the hospital, visiting hours were long over, but Doug was waiting for them. The brothers didn't hug upon sight, which saddened Joey. She and Bessie would have hugged even under normal circumstances.
"Any updates?" Pacey asked without preamble.
"They say he's going to be okay. No need for a bypass surgery. They want him to stay a few days for observation, and the doctor may prescribe some new medications. He needs to cut out the drinking and make some diet changes he's not going to like. But he'll be okay." Doug had aged ten years since Christmas. Or maybe in one day. He offered Joey a wan smile; Joey did what Pacey couldn't and hugged him.
"Where are Ma and the girls?"
"I sent Mom home a few hours ago. Kerry and the kids are with her. The others are flying into Logan tomorrow. Gretch is gonna rent a car and drive down, so we don't need to pick them up."
"Can I see him?" Pacey's voice sounded different on this last question. Less brusque, more choked. Joey squeezed his fingers.
"He's probably sleeping, but come on."
Joey wasn't sure she should accompany the Witter brothers, but Pacey didn't let go of her hand, so she trailed behind. She hated hospitals. Ever since her mom got sick, the smell of them made her want to throw up. The sounds—monitors beeping, squeaky shoes on waxed floors—were the noises of her nightmares. Joey gripped Pacey's fingers as tightly as he held hers.
John Witter shared a room with two other men. The one at the far end was twisting and turning and groaning, but Pacey's father was fast asleep. Sheriff Witter, too, was a creature of nightmare to Joey. Twice she'd watched him take away her father in handcuffs. But lying on the crisp, white, hospital sheets, he looked sick and...small, somehow. She pulled her gaze to Pacey and was unsurprised to see tears swimming in his eyes.
"Hey, Pops," he said in an unsteady whisper.
They all stood in silence until a nurse shooed them out.
Pacey stopped in the waiting room. "I'm going to stay."
"Pacey, there's nothing you can do. You should go home, see Mom, get some rest."
"You do all that. I'm gonna stay. But if you wouldn't mind, you could drive Joey out to Bessie's."
Joey grabbed onto Pacey's arm. "You stay, I stay."
Doug frowned at both of them. "If you insist. I'll clear it with the nurses' station. But try and get some sleep, and stay out of the nurses' hair. They know what they're doing."
"I'm not a kid anymore, Dougie. I don't need you to boss me around."
"Pace," Joey warned.
Doug raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, little brother, have it your way. I'll see you tomorrow." Despite Doug's words, Joey saw him stop and talk to the nurse on duty before he left.
Pacey collapsed into one of the waiting room chairs. Joey sat more carefully beside him. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Barnacle for your thoughts?"
Pacey barked a laugh. "When's the last time you saw a barnacle, Jo?"
"Good point. But I did see a coffee machine down the hall, and I'll substitute a cup of coffee for an inedible crustacean."
"My thoughts, my thoughts..." Pacey sighed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "When we were kids, Dawson and I built a fort in the woods—"
"The no-girls-allowed fort, yes, I remember. I hated that thing so much."
Pacey snorted. "Yeah, well, we used Pops' tools to build it. One day, it started raining, so we hopped on our bikes and hurried home. Didn't even think about the tools. Pops noticed they were missing when he got home—I think Ma asked him to fix a shelf or something—and I had to tell him where they were. He was so mad, called me, well, called me all the names he always called me. Then he told me I'd better go back and get them. Ma objected, for once, because of the storm and how dark it was. So he sent me running out in the rain while he followed behind in the squad car, barely moving, shining the lights on me."
Pacey's hands twisted together, his gaze distant. "I remember that part the clearest, running in the mud...my shoes kept pulling off. Anyway, when we got there, I packed up all the tools in the box, and Pops got out of the car and put them in his trunk. Then he hit me upside the head. I went flying, bam, down on the ground. And that man in there, the man responsible for my existence, my father, he walks over and he kicks me a couple times for good measure and tells me that his tools are a man's tools not toys for an idiot boy. Then he got in his car and drove away."
Pacey made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "I'm pretty sure that's the most expensive cup of coffee I ever bought. It better be worth it, Potter."
Joey, for the first time in her life, had zero words. There was literally nothing she could say. She put a hand on Pacey's hunched over back and rose slowly, placing a kiss on the top of his tousled hair as she did so. She went to get the coffee.
As she did, she thought over Pacey's story and realized, for all her good intentions, she had no idea what Pacey was going through. Joey had lost her mother at an age when no girl ever should, but, while her mother was alive, not a single day had gone by when Joey hadn't known her mom loved her. Mitch Leery's death had been a tragedy which blindsided them all, but the reason they had grieved so much was because he had been an amazing father, not just to Dawson, but to all of them.
What was it like when the parent you feared losing was someone you loved and hated in equal measure? Joey tried visualizing how she would feel if it were her father lying in that bed. That, perhaps, was more equivalent, but still fell far short of the mark.
Joey returned to the waiting room with two cups of coffee and a determination to do the best thing she could for Pacey. To sit beside him, hold his hand, and listen.