The house came into view as Pacey turned the corner. He wasn't feeling particularly pleased with having to go there, but planned to slip in and out unnoticed. Hearing the ever-present commotion as he neared the front door, Pacey reconsidered his entrance. He walked around the house to the back door, which was thankfully quiet. He opened the back door walking into what appeared to be an empty kitchen. "Uncle Pacey! Uncle Pacey is here!" his nephew yelled as soon as he closed the door. Pacey genuinely enjoyed children; they loved him. However, these children were exceptionally unruly not to mention they were Witters meaning they joined in on the Pacey-bashing. The only living family member who didn't routinely make Pacey feel like a complete and utter failure was his sister, Gretchen, who was away at college. Kerry, on the other hand, seemed to relish the opportunity to be the abuser for once. At the announcement of Uncle Pacey's presence, the kitchen quickly filled with all three of Kerry's children.

"Hey guys. What kind of trouble are you getting into today?" Pacey asked. The children continued yelling unintelligibly as they started to climb on their uncle. "Hold on there, buddy. I can't stay long," he managed to say before taking an elbow to the gut. "Ugh. Thanks for that one, kid," Pacey said while attempting to prevent a child from climbing up his back. The youngest child decided to climb on the kitchen counter in an effort to gain an advantage over the others. Despite having two children already clinging to him, Pacey managed to catch his youngest niece before she fell from the counter. "Whoa, there, sweetheart. Let's stay on the ground."

"I see that even the kids get the better of you," his father grumbled as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Pop," Pacey said with hopeful cheerfulness. A small grunt was all he received in return. Pacey looked up to see that his father already had the beer he was looking for, and was on his way back to his chair.

"What is going on in there?" Pacey's mother yelled as she stomped down the stairs. "Pacey, why do you always insist on getting these children all riled up? Honestly, as if you don't get in enough trouble all on your own," she said not bothering with any pleasantries.

"Hey, Ma. Sorry, I intended to come in quietly, but these monsters attacked me as soon as I walked through the door," he answered in an impressive monster voice. He began walking out of the kitchen with a child wrapped around each of his legs.

"Don't you go blaming those kids for what you did, Pacey!" his father yelled from the living room.

"Kids, come up here! Leave Pacey alone," Kerry yelled from what used to be Pacey's bedroom. The children initially ignored their mother until she added, "I have candy!" With that, they detached themselves from their uncle and ran up the stairs.

"What brought you by, Pacey?" his mother asked with disinterest.

"Just needed to see about borrowing the wagoneer for the day," he explained as he joined his father in the living room.

"Why?" John Witter asked his gaze never leaving the ball game on the TV in front of him.

"Have some things to do, and would be really nice to have transportation," he responded.

"Things to do?" his father said with a laugh. "And who are you doing all these important things with?" he interrogated.

"Just Joey, Pop."

"Joey?"

"You know Joey. We've been … well, in the same class for years," Pacey explained not sure if he would describe his history with Joey as that of 'friends.' He silently chastised himself for not picking the wagoneer up last night. It was always a toss up because his father likely would have been drunk already making it more likely Pacey could go unnoticed, but also intensifying his father's wrath in the event that he was unsuccessful in his clandestine mission. "A lot of guys from your department have been helping her family get the B&B going," Pacey added.

"Oh right, the Potter girl," his father said with unfounded contempt. "I need my truck today."

"Pop, the game is gonna be on all day. I can have it back by the end if you want to go somewhere after," Pacey offered despite knowing that his father would be in no condition to drive by that time.

"It's my truck. I should have it to go wherever and whenever I please," he said taking another drink from the beer in his hand. "And that Potter girl isn't going to be traipsing around in it all day. It's bad enough you've got my hardworking guys over there all the time. They have good families they should be spending their time with."

Trying to keep his calm in the midst of his father's clear insult, Pacey forced himself to exhale. "The Potters are good people, Pop. I know you have a history with their dad, but Joey, Bessie, and Bodie they are great."

"Bodie? Nah, even you would have the decency to marry a woman you got knocked up."

"Bodie is extremely hardworking, and kind. Plus he's a good father, and partner for Bessie," Pacey said his frustration rising.

"Who's a partner for Bessie?" his mom asked as she entered the living room. "What's a partner anyway? Husband and wife, that's the only thing I know that makes any sense," she remarked taking a seat. "Speaking of partner, how's that girl of yours doing? You know, the perky blonde one. What's her name again, John?"

"Huh?" her husband responded clearly not listening to her speak.

"Oh, Angela! That's her name. She seemed to really be smitten with our little Pacey for some reason or another," Pacey's mother remembered.

"Unbelievable," Pacey managed. "Forget it. I'm leaving."

"See, Mary, I told you there wasn't any girl."

Pacey swallowed hard trying to maintain his composure. It wasn't because he respected his father or was afraid of confrontation with him, but because he refused to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. While he was over Andie, the manner in which that relationship ended provided his father too much ammunition to fuel Pacey's self-doubt. "Enjoy your day watching your truck out the window from that seat."

"I plan to," Sheriff Witter gloated. "Mary, get me another beer," he ordered, but she was already on her way to the kitchen.

Pacey exited the front door not bothering to look behind him. He was used to his parents demeaning him, but their attacking people he cares about was too much to handle. He had looked in Joey's big brown eyes and told her that the people of their small town had no right to look down on her or judge her for her father's indiscretions, yet he failed to stand up to his own father; his father who dared question her worthiness of riding around in their dilapidated vehicle. Pacey was fuming. He walked hastily down the street before remembering that he was late and without a ride. Reluctantly, he went to the shed behind his parents' house to retrieve his bicycle.

"Hey Bessie," Pacey said quietly as he entered her front door. He wiped the remaining sweat from his brow.

"Hey Pacey," Bessie replied without looking up from her task.

"Joey here?"

"Yeah, she's in the back," she answered. Bessie then put her rag down on the counter, and slowly walked toward Pacey. "Hey Pacey," she said gently. Pacey's eyes, which had previously been on the floor, met hers. She lifted her arms and hugged the boy in front of her. "Keep your head up," Bessie encouraged. Pacey looked at her slightly confused. Rather than explain her embrace, Bessie merely shrugged and returned to the kitchen. Pacey walked toward the back of the house with a renewed sense of purpose.

"Hey Jo," he said upon seeing Joey putting Alexander's clothes in their drawers.

"Hey Pace," Joey answered with a smile. "So I've been thinking, we really don't have to go today. Let's just stay here. We can get lots of work done on True Love. I feel guilty that you haven't been able to make as much progress on her what with all the time you've put in around here. How does that sound?" she asked finally taking a breath.

Before he could answer, Bessie entered the room. "You guys should take our truck," she suggested. "We just made a few adjustments on it, so you'd really be doing me a favor, Pacey. I wanna make sure it's riding OK before Joey takes it anywhere alone. If she ever learns how to drive stick, that is," she teased.

Recognizing that Bessie must have seen him ride up the driveway on his bicycle, Pacey smiled his first cocky smile of the night. "I suppose I can do that, Bessie." He would have to thank her later. "I mean, we wouldn't want our girl stuck on the side of the road somewhere. Because Lord knows she makes a terrible hitchhiker."

"I'm actually really OK with her lack of hitchhiking ability, Pacey," Bessie stated recalling Joey's momentary venture into truancy. "Now get going! Oh, and I left some snacks for you on the table. Why? Because I'm just that great."

"What's the deal with refusing to drive this piece of machinery?" Pacey asked Joey after they were comfortably on the road in the Potter's blue truck.

"I've tried, Pacey. I blame my teachers, really. Bessie was a nervous wreck the whole time, and Dawson … I'm not even convinced he knows how to drive stick so much as he just wants to point out that I don't know how."

"I agree, you just haven't had the right teacher yet," he said. "Lucky for you, I am a steady and patient educator."

"Lucky me," Joey said with a light-hearted eye roll. She turned the volume up on the radio. The two became silent when they heard the voice on the radio sing:

Maybe I'm just too demanding

Maybe I'm just like my father, too bold

Maybe you're just like my mother

She's never satisfied

Neither one acknowledged the striking relevance of the words as they passed a sign reading, "State prison next exit. Do not pick up hitchhikers."