V.

Lily was no longer sleeping through the night so we were no longer sleeping, period. It was up and down every couple of hours…and then she got the colic. Mitch had just put her down after a grueling crying jag when the call came in.

Who on earth would have the nerve to call at…What time was it? 2:59am.

It was Bessie. Dawson picked up the phone before I had a chance to ask what was wrong. He spoke in deliberate, hushed tones. "Joey and Pacey had a fight," I heard him say. He yawned and I woke up. If I had even thought about going back to sleep, I certainly wasn't ready now. My busybody reconnaissance mode had clicked into gear.

"Neither one of them was themselves at the dance," Dawson continued. "Something must've happened early on because I saw her wandering around, looking lost. I went to talk to her but she wasn't in a confiding mood. So we talked about…other things. Then I asked her to dance and she seemed to brighten up. She was actually laughing when Pacey walked in and started yelling at her. For no reason."

Let's roll that back a minute. When did Dawson ever keep information like this secret? Four hours earlier, he had arrived home—a surprise to both Mitch and I since we expected him to be out most of the night. After all, it was senior prom and what normal teenage boy didn't expect to be out most of the night with his girl, maybe even share a sunrise breakfast at the local diner before coming home? But here he was home before midnight and the most he would say was that things had not gone well and that Gretchen had insisted on being taken home.

So when did Joey & Pacey and the rest of the crew become part of this flight from reality equation? Indeed, how did Joey & Pacey become part of this equation—and why? Why would Pacey be angry to find Joey dancing with Dawson?

"The next thing you know they were having this screaming match in front of everyone," Dawson mumbled before clearing his throat. "He was saying the most awful things to her, Bess. I tried to break it up but Pacey pushed me away. He continued to berate her until she finally told him to go to hell." My heart was breaking. Poor Joey. Poor Pacey. What had gone wrong?

"She walked away. But I heard later that he tracked her down to offer an apology of sorts which only seemed to upset her more. Obviously, none of us was in the mood to attend any after-Prom parties after that so we brought her home."

So it was about Joey not Gretchen. I couldn't help but think of a similar scene two years ago when Joey had angrily denounced Dawson for pushing her to turn in her father. She made her bitter point in the most dramatic of confrontations. Now the tables had been turned and she was on the other side of an apparently equally angry, even more public tirade. But I still didn't know why.

"I'm sorry I had to leave so quickly, Bess, but Pacey was still out in the limo—and so was Gretchen…and Jen and Jack. All any of us wanted to do was to go home and deal with the fallout tomorrow. I was so worried. Is Joey okay? Bess? Did you hear me? Bess? Is she there with you? She must be, right? Okay, give me a call later—let me know she's okay."

He hung up the phone and I wandered into the room, knocking briefly on the partially-opened door. "Do you want to talk?" I asked. Knowing Dawson and how closed off he had become in recent years, I suspected he didn't—but I did, and I hoped that he might allow me that much peace of mind. Surprisingly, he did.

Being careful not to wake Lily (how she slept through the phone ringing in an otherwise quiet house, I'll never know), we went downstairs to the kitchen. I set up the coffeemaker and Dawson began to talk. Mostly about Joey, what she had been through and what a horrible scene it was…how he had tried to protect her and was rebuffed…and, finally, Gretchen's determined response to the evening's events. He didn't understand her "overreaction" to his "chasing after Joey," as she so succinctly put it.

"Mom, she told me to go after her. Was that so wrong?"

"Honey, she gave you permission to follow your heart. That doesn't mean it was what she wanted you to do. Maybe she needed you to stay with her and you didn't ask. Did you?"

"I…I…No," he said quietly.

Upstairs, I heard Lily beginning to stir again; a couple of hiccup cries followed by a puzzling silence and then a full-out blast of a wail. I ran upstairs to get her before Mitch woke up. As I held her in my arms, I thought about our conversation and realized that what I hadn't told my son was that Gretchen may have needed Dawson to show some concern for her brother, who was obviously in great pain to have unleashed such vitriol on the girl he loved, in front of all their classmates.

But we never had that discussion. Whenever Pacey's name came up throughout the weekend—and granted that was practically nil—it only served to make Dawson more and more angry. I was becoming fearful of what might actually happen when they encountered each other at school.

Joey set him straight on that one. After two missed days, she returned to school with Dawson on her heels; in truth, he was her ride but I have no doubt he was determined to finish mending bridges and bring her back into his life fulltime. He was hurting, too. Joey told me later, somewhat guiltily, about their conversation that Spring morning.

"Have you seen him?" she asked after a long silence between them.

"No. And I hope I never do," he responded curtly, "because right now I'm afraid I'd just pummel him."

"Pull over," she said. ""What?" "Pull over. Right now."

Dawson did her bidding and she took off her seatbelt so she could turn and face him. She spoke firmly and directly. "Dawson, I know you think you're responding on my behalf, but if we are going to remain friends you have to promise me you'll wipe those thoughts out of your brain. This isn't Pacey's fault," she insisted. I could just imagine her voice softening as she fought back the inevitable tears. "None of it is Pacey's fault and I won't have you blaming him for something I provoked. I take full responsibility; I pushed when I should have been more supportive. I began leaving him behind months ago and didn't even realize it because I was too goddamn self-involved."

"Self-involved?" Dawson attempted to protest but she would hear none of it. "That anger should be directed at me, Dawson. If you care at all about Pacey—or me—you will back down." "Jo…" "Promise me, Dawson. Promise me you'll deal with whatever you're feeling elsewhere and back down from this." He had no choice; he complied.

Dawson re-channeled his energies into a new project which he called "Ways to Make Joey Laugh", stockpiling jokes sent via the internet, silly mementos from their childhood…anything to get her mind off her present-day misfortune. A few days later, he talked her into staying over for dinner and that's when I got the shock of my life. I couldn't comprehend the slender, sedated girl who stood before me.

She avoided uncomfortable subjects by wrapping herself totally in Lily-adoration. When she looked up to give me a smile, I was overwhelmed with a memory of her mother. As Lillian battled her cancer, enduring two rounds of chemo and finally radiation therapy, I often noted how "well" she looked. The effect was intentional. She didn't want her girls to see how ill she really was and had developed a makeup ritual that she called "painting on a picture of health". I let out a quiet gasp when I realized that was what Joey was doing. She had noticed after all, and now was painting on her face—albeit subconsciously.

But this one was sharper, more hands-off; this one said leave me alone.

zzzzzzzzzz

I don't think Joey ever knew that Dawson considered skipping graduation to take off for a few weeks' respite with Gretchen. Oh, that's right. I wasn't supposed to know about that. Well, if you don't want your parents to know, you shouldn't leave the letter out! It was addressed to us, and when he saw me eyeing it Dawson encouraged me to open the envelope. But the letter he never finished, the one he couldn't finish, was the letter to Joey; he gave up on that one. Leaving her wasn't something he found easy to put into words.

Looking back, I often wonder if my son was cognizant at all of the role he may have played in Joey & Pacey's breakup. Did he feel any remorse when he thought about the way he had belittled Pacey over the years? Or did he even think about it? Dawson didn't take the town screw-up moniker seriously, but Pacey did. No wonder he felt "small" when compared next to academic over-achievers like Joey and Andie—and yet he always seemed to be drawn to them, didn't he?

How much did Pacey's self-esteem plummet when Dawson tried to use him to get Joey to accept his scholarship "gift"? Once again, someone else had rushed in to be the hero; the sidekick had the girl but he had to question for how long.

I knew for how long. I heard it in Joey's commencement speech. I saw it in the way she looked out into the audience as she pronounced her last heartfelt lines. "Whether you're here with each other now or you're merely in each other's thoughts, remember each other on that road ahead," she charged as her eyes anxiously scanned the enclave of students. "And I hope that no matter where your travels lead you in this life, you'll always take Capeside with you."

Forever, she said.

But Pacey wasn't present at that gathering. That was a grim discovery Joey apparently made later at a friend's graduation party. I saw her running away and, as my eyes connected with Bessie's, we both knew.

What an emotional day that was for everyone. I felt like I had two children graduating—and I was equally proud of both. I do believe Mitch and I took as many pictures of Joey during her speech as Bessie and Bodi did. I regretted not having put more thought into what to give her as a graduation present. Mitch and I wanted to do something special but, given all that had happened recently, we were reticent about stepping on toes. So we settled for flowers and a nice card with a plea for her to think about what she needed for school.

Oh, I forgot the picture. I don't even know why I had it, but I'd found a copy of Lillian in her high school graduation gown. I remembered it after hearing from Dawson that Joey had stopped by looking for me. Bessie had just given her a letter from her mother to be shared with her upon graduation and she was too scared of the memories it might inspire to read it alone. Dawson ended up with those honors and I was happy he was able to make that selfless connection. I made the mother connection and went searching for that photo; it belonged to her daughter.

zzzzzzzzzz

That summer was the first summer in eons that Joey and I spent quite a lot of time together. She had so much on her mind, and I think Jen, Bessie and I all shared an interest in helping her to lighten that load. Our first big discussion, however, was our most difficult one: it concerned Dawson.

Joey had arrived to meet up with him for a final movie night before he left for USC. The fact that she was an hour early was the first sign of how anxious she was about this monumental shift that was about to occur. She offered to watch Lily while I freshened up. When I came back downstairs, she was having a heart to heart with the two-month Chatty (okay, gurgling) Cathy sitting in front of her.

"Lily, what have they done?" she joked. "Pink clothes, pink toys, pink hat on your head. This can't be good for you." She paused to think about it. "Who am I kidding?" she continued. "You should just let them turn you into a girly-girl because eventually you're going to turn 12, stop liking math, start liking boys and it's all downhill from there. Trust me, I know these things, sweetheart."

I couldn't help but smile. "Ah, she likes you," I told her as I made my presence known. "She's just used to me. Babies don't really have taste, they're like dogs. You just have to speak to them in slow, even tones." Even then she didn't believe the power that those sweet, even tones had on other people; she still put herself down.

I had a feeling she wanted to talk so I asked her what the plans for the evening were. "Movies," she answered. "With Jack and Jen." "Sounds like fun," I said, knowing that there was little else for teens to do in Capeside.

"Yeah, it is. These past couple of weeks just hanging out, doing nothing, it's been great. I think I sort of forgot what that was like. I don't know. Sometimes you get so wrapped up in things you can't see the forest through the melodrama." I certainly knew what she was talking about in that respect and nodded along with her. "It's like all these things seem so monumentally important at the time, and then when you look back they just pale in comparison to the big things. Life and death…"

"And leaving home to start your life all over again."

"It's happening so fast. I mean, Dawson leaves tomorrow, Pacey's off sailing around in the Caribbean as far as I know…"

She sounded so defeated. "He still hasn't called you?"

"Not yet. But I'm not exactly #1 on his list of people to be talking to right now." She turned to the little one in the highchair. "Lily, beware of boys. They are a mind-altering substance far worse than crack."

"And twice as addictive," I added in hearty concurrence.

"You know, it's funny, isn't it? People always say things to little girl babies like, 'Oh, she's beautiful. She's going to break a lot of hearts someday.' Like it's something to look forward to. Sounds to me more like a curse."

"Well, when you put it that way…" I laughed in response but we both knew the sometimes bitter truth behind that statement.

"She is beautiful, though," Joey said, gazing once again at Lily. I couldn't resist giving her a bit of a hard time. "You don't think I went slightly overboard with pink?" Joey looked back with a childlike grin, then reconsidered her statement. "No. I mean, it's nice. You had to. You finally got the little girl you've always wanted."

"Yes, I did. I just hope she turns out as wonderful as the one I already have," I assured her with a slight squeeze of her hand. That netted another demure smile.

Joey always seemed surprised when I would say such things to her, but I meant every word. She had been through hell and still managed to come out a sweet, sensitive and caring young woman who prided herself in academic excellence and had little use for chemical crutches like the latest designer drugs. I found that rather amazing.

She typically turned my compliment into another joke. "You mean Dawson?" she laughed mischievously. You can't imagine how happy I was to see that look! It seemed like it had been months since I had witnessed that other Joey, the formerly edgy, sarcastic, always willing to banter Joey.

But the smile faded. "I don't know how to say goodbye to him," she said after a hesitant pause. "Sweetie, he's just going away to school, he's not out of your life forever. You guys will see each other, keep in touch." "It feels bigger than that," she said. "I mean, he's going to be a whole continent away."

For a moment, I wondered if Dawson now regretted putting that distance between them, especially in light of how the year had ended, but Joey's subsequent confession underlined how little things had changed in her mind.

"I don't know how I would have survived the past few weeks without him. He's been such an important factor in my life—you all have, I hope you know that." The tears that began to form in my eyes now matched hers. "Fifteen months ago, I thought I had ruined things completely and I would never be able to look on this place as home again, that Dawson would be my friend in name only. But somehow you managed to keep the doors open, and even though Dawson once threatened he wouldn't be there when things fell apart…" Her voice broke. "He was," she said softly.

"He offered his shoulder to cry on and I leaned on him big-time. This house has been my safety net. It's not just Dawson leaving, it's me moving on as well. Even though Boston is only a couple of hours away…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

I walked over to her and drew her into my embrace. "Things just won't be the same without you, Joey. We feel that, too." She hugged me tight. "But you and I have a whole summer to look forward to. I'm not letting go yet!"

"How about some coffee?" I asked as we both loosened our grip minutes later. She nodded her agreement and I walked over to the freezer to pull out her favorite blend. As I filled the coffeemaker with water, I caught a glimpse of Joey's absent-minded fixation on the ring she was wearing on her right hand. It was a plain gold band that I had noticed months earlier. It looked so much like a wedding band, I had assumed it was something Pacey had given her. But then she had taken it off and now it was back on; he obviously was still on her mind. Now I understood her dilemma. How do you properly say goodbye to one boy you care deeply about when another still occupies your thoughts in a major way?

Joey caught me studying her. This time, she was more eloquent. She refrained from the temptation to beat around the bush. "Did you ever take it personally when a street lamp fluttered off just as you approached it?" she queried. "Like something about your personal aura caused that electric response?" It seemed a strange observation to make at this time, but I knew what she was talking about. "I felt that happen very distinctly between me and Dawson a year and a half ago. He was walking towards me and I realized the light had gone out, it just wasn't there anymore. It had nothing to do with Pacey—we weren't even together yet."

I brought the first cup of coffee to her and she stared into it, her light brown eyes reflecting its darker brown depth. "I want to be able to tell Dawson how important he is to me without him getting the wrong idea. Is that possible?" she asked, obviously concerned. "Nothing has changed, Gale, we're just a year and a half older. And the truth is, if Pacey forgave me and wanted me back, that's where I'd be today. I still love him…" her voice trailed off.

"I know you do, honey. And so does Dawson," I emphasized. "I don't know if he has any expectations and, frankly, that shouldn't be your concern. Just be honest with him."

zzzzzzzzzz

Dawson flew out on an 11:50 flight from Boston the next morning. He had, he confessed, been up all night. After saying goodbye to Joey, he restlessly packed and unpacked his clothes until he finally gave into his anxiety and flew out of the house—only to find Joey walking back from the dock. They stayed up and talked most of the night. Hearing their voices, we kept our bedroom door closed to give them some privacy.

Lily, however, could not wait and finally sometime around 5:00am I got up to feed her and Mitch, just out of the shower and getting ready to take our son to the airport, found himself driving Joey home. "You're not rowing back in the darkness before dawn," he insisted. "You can pick up the boat tomorrow." Joey was quiet all of the way back to the B&B. Sad but content, Mitch said. He guessed the two of them had finally found a way to say goodbye.

Thankfully, we did not have to for another two months, and all of us took full advantage of that time. When she wasn't working at the B&B or the Yacht Club, Joey often stopped by to see if we need a "Lily-sitter", as she termed it. More often than not, I gratefully accepted. Over the 4th of July, the Leerys and Potters united for a camping weekend on Waldeck Island, which turned out to be Alex's first big camping trip as well as Lily's. Even the morning rain did not hamper our spirits as we spent the time inside playing board games and sipping hot cocoa. Joey later told me that she often thinks nostalgically of that time when she hears the rain outside.

And there was plenty of time for girl talk. Joey was so excited about going to Worthington, she had checked off nearly the entire school catalog when she was looking at classes for the coming year. But she was also unnerved by all the changes that an Ivy League entrée represented. The mere idea of that life apart had apparently scared off the boy she loved, would it alter other relationships as well? She was particularly concerned about Bessie. What if Worthington did change her and Bessie felt left behind?

"I think you're worried about vocabulary," I told her. "All those fine words will never change the bond between you." "How do you know?" "Because you asked," I answered firmly. "The fact that you're aware of it tells me that you're going to be extra vigilant in protecting that relationship. And you know what? Bessie's so proud of you, so determined to push you out of the nest, I think she's expecting some things to change. In fact, I think she would be disappointed if they didn't."

zzzzzzzzzz

There was one thing she rarely talked about, one thing that never changed—and that was her love for Pacey Witter. After that first conversation, she buried those feelings deep. I only saw them surface once again during the summer, and that was purely by accident. Joey was watching Lily and I had gone into town on errands, telling her I didn't expect to be back until dinnertime.

But I finished early and walked into the house to find her slumped over on the coach, sobbing. On the coffee table in front of her were two pages of stationery filled front and back with scribblings. Pacey's handwriting. Joey had been carrying it around with her all day and, thinking it could only be good news, I had encouraged her to read it. It still took her a couple of hours to get up the courage…and this is what it had wrought. More pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I put down my packages and sat down next to her on the sofa. Joey looked up, startled, then pushed the letter towards me. My eyes drifted to the bottom of the first page. "I got my sea legs back in a couple of days, but my head has only recently begun to clear," he wrote. I turned the page. "I had to make a clean break, Jo, and this trip, however ironic the circumstance of its first being suggested to me, has represented just exactly that. A new start."

I had to stop reading. This was too personal—and obviously too painful for the young woman beside me. All I could do was comfort her and tell her things were going to be okay. "He still loves you, Joey," I said as I hugged her.

"What does that mean?" she stammered, too confused and distraught to continue. It took some time before she was able to calm herself down, taking slow, measured breaths to counteract that gulping sensation. I offered her a tissue. "I think I'm going to need a lot more!" she laughed somewhat apologetically.

When I returned from the guest bathroom where I had retrieved an entire box of Kleenex, she was seated on the floor with Lily. "I think I got the stages of grief all wrong," she told me without looking up. "Because I accepted the loss first…then I got angry. Now I just feel…" Her arms floundered around. "Helpless."

"There's no rule book on how to handle loss, Joey. Everyone deals with it differently. Just don't let those feelings fester, okay? It's very important to let them out once in awhile—let yourself wallow, if you feel like it."

"I think today's demonstration should absolve me for the rest of the year," she joked. Once again she shrugged it off, making light of her emotional response. By the time we had dinner on the table, it was as if the entire thing had never happened.

zzzzzzzzzz

September barreled into our lives and before we knew it, Mitch and I were saying goodbye to Joey as Bodi loaded the final box into the truck. Well, not quite the final. The Leerys and Potters had discussed it ad nauseum and finally it was decided: Bessie and Bodi purchased a cell phone and year's calling plan for Joey, and Mitch and I gave her the latest iBook computer.

"Dawson told me you're either a Mac or a PC person and the choice defines you," Mitch said as he handed Joey the box. "Something tells me this is yours." Joey was speechless.

"It's a late graduation-slash-going away present," I piped in as I sensed the beginnings of a protest.

"Not to mention payback for a summer of selfless babysitting," Mitch winked back. Joey had refused payment for any of the time she spent with Lily. That had been one of our best selling points when we broached the subject with Bessie and Bodi.

"Well? Are you're going to thank them? Because I must say you're going to be in serious trouble if you're this quiet at school," Bessie nudged her.

"Mitch, Gale…I…" She ran her fingers delicately over the graphic on front of the box. "Thank you," she said as she put the box down and went to hug both of us.

"You're welcome," I said, kissing the top of her head. "We're so proud of you, Joey," Mitch reiterated. He brought her chin up so he could look directly in her eyes. "Now, go get 'em, tiger!"