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Operation True Love: Pacey and Joey > Pacey and Joey Fan Fic > Forget Me Not (Updated Oct. 25th) |
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EviePJlvr 
 Posts: 188 (3/29/03 2:23 pm) Reply |
Forget Me Not (Updated Oct. 25th) Book I: Part I Twelve-year-old Pacey Witter ran through the woods, crunching red and brown leaves in a pair tattered shoes that were half a size too small. He let out a whoop of exhileration and jumped in the air, landing in heap right in front his favorite oak tree, Old Leo. “Ooo, that hurt.” He rubbed his side for a good while before getting to his feet and attempting to climb Old Leo. However, a glint of light beneath a leaf diverted his attention, and he knelt down to investigate. Soiling his already dusty trousers, he brushed the leaf away. In its place he found a small, silver, knotted ring. Pacey picked it up, cleaning off the dirt that had been mangled into its twisted design. He wondered whom it belonged to and how it got there. He sighed and tucked the ring into his pocket beside his most treasured possession, deciding to ponder this futher from above atop Old Leo. He stood up to face the tree again, took hold of the lowest branch and steadied himself for a swift climb. “So, Leo, you seen anything interesting today? I know I was supposed to be here sooner, but Miss Pinch-face decided to take us on a detour to the fish market. Why anyone would take a bunch of orphan boys shopping, I have no idea.” He stopped talking to the old tree and settled into the spot he had made his own since he’d been sent to Miss Pinchley’s Home for Boys six months ago. Pacey dug into his pocket, pulling out a whittled carving of a goose. It was slightly larger than a silver dollar. He ran his thumb along the white painted body. The bird’s wings were spread in flight. He studied the beak and feet, wondering as always why they had been left unpainted. Turning it over, he read the inscription on the back – Freedom is in Your Heart – PW 1927. “I guess it’s gonna have to be, huh, Grandpa?” He fished the ring he’d just found out of his pocket. Something about the simple band made his heartbeat thump and thud like the pounding of horse hooves during an episode of his favorite radio show The Lone Ranger. He twirled it around, passing it from fingertip to fingertip. Perhaps it belonged to one of the ladies in town. It looked so old, but, if it had been there before, he surely would have seen it. So enraptured by the mystery of the ring, dropped the goose carving on the ground. “Hey! This is neat,” said a voice from under Old Leo. “Thanks, Pacey.” Pacey climbed out of the tree as quickly as he could and confronted the boy who was clutching the gift his grandfather had given him. “That’s mine,” said Pacey. “Give it back.” The boy smirked, holding the desired object behind his back. “Got a nickle?” Pacey shoved the shorter boy’s shoulder. “I said give it back!” "Finders keepers." The boy stuck the keepsake into the pocket of his new navy blue trousers and turned to walk away. Pacey tackled him from behind. "Hey! My mother just bought me these clothes! You're getting them all dirty." Pacey pulled the boy's head back by the hair."Yeah, so you gonna give me my goose back?" Pacey huffed. The boy reached into his pocket and held his hand behind him. "Here." "Thanks," Pacey said, immediately getting to his feet. The boy, who was only about six months younger than Pacey, followed suit. "So, you wanna go fishing tomorrow?" The boy smiled, exposing nearly all of his teeth, nodding. "Can you get away again?" "Ah, you know me, Dawson. I'm slick." Pacey grinned back. “Yeah, so how did you get away this time?” “I just told little Buzz sit on the floor of the fish market and start crying. The kid is great. Didn’t budge until I was out of the door.” “That’s not so slick, using little kids to do your dirty work,” said Dawson. “Hey, as long as it gets done, does it matter how the operation gets pulled off? No,” he answered before Dawson could even reply. Pacey went and leaned back against Old Leo. “Gotta love this tree, Dawson.” He folded his arms and closed his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so great about it.” Pacey looked up at the massive oak, the thickest of the bunch, probably the oldest, and definitely the most beautiful. “It is great,” he said. “It’s just far enough away from the road that no one can see you when you sit in it and close enough so that you can see everything in town. It’s perfect for hiding from pinch-face.” Dawson shrugged. “So, why do you call it Leo?” “Don’t you think it looks like a Leo?” Dawson’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Trees don’t have names,” was his answer. “This one does.” Dawson shrugged again. “I guess I kind of like the name Leo. So, wanna walk toward town?” “Sure.” As the pair walked through the woods, Pacey stuffed his hand in his pocket and held the small goose so tightly his hand began to sweat. His knuckles pressed into the ring that sat below his hand. He would keep that too. It would be a piece of his treasure.  Reading is good. Writing is even better. at: 10/25/03 2:48 am |
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Pacey and Joey True Love
 Posts: 3 (3/29/03 11:28 am) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not
Hey,
Looking forward to it  -Monica- Pacey and Joey Forever! |
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leep4joy
Loves Pacey and Joey Posts: 39 (3/29/03 11:01 pm) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not Awesome banner sweetie!!! I can't wait for you to start posting! I'm so excited! ~Lee 
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LadyHaHa
Loves Pacey and Joey Posts: 45 (8/30/03 9:44 am) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not (Premiere! It's here!) Evie, the banner isn't working for me  I love the story though! I hope you post more soon! Little Pacey is so cute and fiesty! |
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SnoozyC
 Posts: 70 (9/2/03 9:28 am) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not (Premiere! It's here!) Oooh, I remember this one!  More soon, ok?
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LadyHaHa
Loves Pacey and Joey Posts: 46 (9/13/03 8:17 pm) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not (Premiere! It's here!) I posted a reply for you at the other website. You should post your chapters here too. I still check here when I'm bored and stuff. Less fic to weed through obviously 
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 208 (9/13/03 11:36 pm) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not (Premiere! It's here!) Okay, Donna, here it is, but you read this part already hehe. Suz and who ever else! I hope you get to read it.  Let me know if you want me to keep posting I have more!Forget Me Not Book I: Part II The two boys raced up a pristine old street lined with stately Victorian-style homes. Pacey stopped short when he realized they were on Dawson’s street. Pacey didn’t like Dawson’s street, not any more. “Come on, Pacey, you can help me fix my bicycle,” Dawson said, turning around, realizing his friend was no longer by his side. Pacey shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked across the street to the yard that neighbored Dawson’s immaculate green lawn. His throat closed up as his eyes settled onto a young girl kneeling beside a cocker spaniel. Dawson noticed Pacey’s stare and trembling fingers. “Joey Potter just moved into the judge’s house,” said Dawson. “Her mother finally died on Sunday.” “Oh.” “She’s nice. We used to go to the same school, remember?” Dawson waved his hand in front of Pacey's face. “Come on, let’s go talk to her.” He tugged on Pacey’s sleeve. “No!” Pacey ripped his arm away. “I can’t.” “It wasn’t her fault, Pacey. Come on. I promise you, she’s nice.” Dawson began walking toward Josephine Potter. She moved to sit on the grass of her grandparents' lawn, petting the top of her dog’s head. Pacey followed reluctantly behind. “Hey Joey!” “Hi Dawson,” the girl replied, moving her dark ponytail from over her shoulder to behind her back. Dawson sat down next to Joey and gave Lula a scratch behind the ear. “She’s a great dog, Jo.” “Thanks. I've had her since I was five.” Joey looked over her shoulder at the boy hovering a few feet away. “You’re Pacey Witter, aren’t you?” “So, what if I am!” Pacey snapped. Joey shrugged her shoulders softly and looked away. “I was just asking.” “Dawson, I have to go.” Dawson scrambled to his feet. “Why?” “Some people don’t get to stay out all day doing whatever they want.” “Old Pinch-face won’t notice.” “What do you know Dawson? You live in a house. You have parents.” Pacey looked over at Joey, who was watching the scene and anxiously chewing on her bottom lip. She was kind of pretty, he thought. It was too bad that he had to hate her. Becoming even more irritated over his ambigious feelings, Pacey’s previous scowl deepened as he turned back to Dawson. “I have to go. Bye Dawson.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and held tight to the goose carving. “That boy hates me, doesn’t he?” “No, he’s just sad or something,” said Dawson. Joey sighed. “I know how he feels.” “Josephine! Time for your piano lessons!” Joey snapped to attention at the sound of her grandmother’s authoritative voice. Elizabeth Potter’s brown eyes stared sternly at her grandchild. “I have to go,” Joey told Dawson, quickly standing up straight and ushering Lula inside. “I’ll see you later, Joey.” “Josephine, hurry up.” Elizabeth left the door open and disappeared inside when Joey reached the top of the porch. If there was one thing in the world that Joey hated, it was piano. Her teacher arrived a full ten minutes after Joey had been summoned inside. It made Joey angry. She didn’t like being cooped up inside the stuffy old house. It was true Judge and Mrs. William Potter’s home was three times the size of the little cottage on the other side of town where she and her sister, Bessie (who was named for her grandmother), had spent their childhood. It was beautiful and stately, but the only place Joey liked at all was the attic. Something about it intrigued her, something mysterious. She spent most of her time after breakfast, sitting in the windowsill staring out over the town. She could see into Dawson’s yard and over the trees onto part of Main Street and, off in the far distance, she could see the orphanage. No one ever came up there. At least that’s what her grandmother told her when she turned her nose up at the idea of Joey exploring. Joey loved it, and so, if she had to spend time inside she wanted to spend it up there. “Pay attention, Josephine,” said the stiff old piano teacher, Mrs. Rubins, sitting beside her with a ruler poised to smack her fingers. “I’m sorry.” Joey shook her head and tried to focus on the task at hand. Piano lessons. Her grandmother had forced her mother to bring her here every Tuesday to take them until Lillian got sick. Even Elizabeth Potter didn’t have the heart to force Joey to come over on her own. But when Lily died, Joey was left with only her grandmother and the judge. Her sister Bessie had left long ago…. It was time for dinner. Joey sat, properly washed and primmed for the occasion, between her grandmother and grandfather, who sat at opposite ends of the long dining room table. They were having lamb and potatoes. It wasn’t something Joey particularly cared for, but her mother taught her to be polite and she knew that her grandmother would not stand for her complaining. She looked up at her Grandfather who was sipping his wine. “Grandpa, do you think I could have a sip?” “Absolutely not!” her grandmother interjected, outraged. The white-haired old man chuckled. “Well, dear, what harm can a sip do?” “William, she is a child,” Elizabeth said shortly, meaning the subject was closed. “Well, dinner was delicious,” said Judge Potter, settling back into the cushioned dining room chair. He glanced over at his granddaughter, who was now staring longingly out the large picture window that took up most of the left wall. “You see something interesting, my dear?” Joey smiled. “No.” She scrunched up her nose. "It’s just Dawson. He’s so silly. Just look at him trying to fix that bicycle.” Judge Potter looked over and saw the young boy struggling to fix his front wheel and laughed. “I could fix that in a snap.” “A young lady does not fix bicycles,” Elizabeth Potter said behind her glass of red wine. Joey’s face fell. “Well, I think it’s time to retire to the drawing room. William?” Elizabeth signaled her husband, expecting him to follow her. “Go on, dear. I’ll be in shortly,” said William. Elizabeth nodded and left. “And no wine,” she said from the hall. “Of course not, dear.” Joey’s grandfather winked. “Only one sip,” he whispered. Joey grinned, throwing her napkin on the table and rushing over to her grandfather. “Just a sip,” she confirmed as she picked up his glass and took a tentative sip. “Ew! This stuff is gross.” Her grandfather laughed. “So, no more wine for you?” “Not even if you paid me.” He chuckled heartily. “Well, why don’t you go and find your friend? He looked like he could use some help out there, but stay close to the house. You know how your grandmother is.” Joey rolled her eyes. “All right. Thank you, Grandpa.” She hugged the old judge tightly before leaving the room. ************************* “All fixed Dawson.” “Great! Thanks, Joey. I’m glad you moved in.” Joey looked away. She really wasn’t glad. She wanted her mother. She wanted to go home, but unfortunately her home was no more. Both of her parents were dead. Her father, well maybe he deserved it, but her mother had never done anything to anybody. Why did she deserve to die? Joey quickly thought of something else so she would not cry. “Why don’t we take a ride?” “I thought you said you had to stay close to home. It will be dark in half an hour.” Dawson reminded her sensibly. “Then we’ll be back before a half an hour is up,” Joey said, positioning the bicycle in an upright position. “I’ll ride the handlebars, but, remember Dawson, in exchange for my fixing it for you, I get to ride it three afternoons a week.” “I still think that’s too much, but okay.” Dawson climbed onto the seat then Joey on to the handlebars. “I’m not sure I can do this.” “Yes, you can. Just try.” They started out wobbly and, just when they were gliding for a while and were more than halfway down the block, Dawson stopped. “I can’t do this, Joey. It’s too hard.” Joey slid off. “Can I borrow it then?” “I….” “I’ll change it to twice a week and this can be one of my turns.” “But I just fixed it, Joey.” “Correction, Dawson, I just fixed it.” Joey shot him a look her grandmother would have given her to make sure he’d give in. “Okay, but don’t go too far. It’s almost dark.” “Okay, I won’t. I’ll be back soon.” Joey climbed on the bicycle. “Thanks, Dawson.” ********************************** “Hey, Pacey, did you get a whoopin, ” asked Buzz cheerily as Pacey entered the boy’s dormitory. “I thought you were on my side kid.” Buzz grinned. “I am. I just want to know.” Pacy shrugged. “Nah, but I have to mow the lawn for the next month.” “That’s no big deal. That’s fun!” The blond boy with the swept over hair and the old coke-bottle glasses jumped up and down. Pacey shook his head. “How can you be so happy all the time, kid?” “How can you be so sad? And you’re a kid too,” he added, sticking his tongue out for good measure. Pacey sighed and sat on his bed. He pulled out an old tin box from beneath his bed and opened it. In it was an old picture of his family - his mother, father, and his brother Doug all smiling beside him. He had his father’s sherriff badge, a postcard from Doug. He placed his whittled carving and the ring inside. It meant something. He just didn’t know what. “Hey Pace, we’re going out to play some ball. Wanna come?” said a boy from the other side of the room. “Nah, I’m tired.” “Ya have fun in town today?” the same boy asked. His name was Charlie. He was typically red-haired and freckled. “Of course.” Charlie smiled and nodded in approval. Everyone liked Pacey in the orphanage, even the older boys. “Come on, Buzz. You can be the mascot.” “Aww, I’m always the mascot.” Pacey sighed as the boys all filed out the room and headed for the grounds behind the orphanage. ********************** Joey rode through town, along Main Street and kept going. She wanted to keep going. She thought about it, but where would she go? She spotted a large brown building, full of windows and surrounded by a tall black gate, up ahead. She peddled up to it. The grounds were covered in grass, but there were no trees. She read the sign hanging over the front stoop: Orhans Home. Maybe she should be in there. After all, she was an orphan. Her heart jumped when she looked to one of the top windows and noticed a boy staring down at her. It was that boy. It was Pacey Witter, the boy who was an orphan because of her father. It was the biggest scandal Capeside had ever seen. Judge Potter’s former bootlegging son killed the town sherriff only to die mysteriously, weeks later, in prison. It was one of the reasons her grandmother was so strict with her. She wanted Joey to wipe it all from her mind. She wanted to save Joey from turning out like her youngest son had. Pacey. “I’m sorry, Pacey.” Reading is good. Writing is even better. at: 9/13/03 11:38 pm |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 73 (9/14/03 12:37 am) Reply |
Re: Forget Me Not (Premiere! It's here!) Yep, yep.. I definitely remember reading this one... or at least the next couple of chapters. It's great! Can't wait to catch up and read the new stuff too
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 209 (9/14/03 6:36 pm) Reply |
Book I: Part III Well, I think you read this one too Suz, but the next chapter should be new to you. I'm going to just go ahead and post that right after this one. Forget Me Not Book I: Part III As soon as Joey saw the mailman from her perch in the attic, she rushed through the house and out to the mailbox. Only Winnie, the sometimes maid, was home so there was no one to yell at her about running through the house. At fifteen, her grandmother still treated her as if she were a small girl with muddy hands and messy hair. Joey was used to it now and could do battle with her when and if needed. Except on one issue – Bessie Potter. Joey pulled down the silver flap and pulled out a small stack of white envelopes. She shuffled through them. “It’s here!” She quickly stuffed the rest of the envelopes back into the mailbox for her grandmother to retrieve when she returned from tea with her friends. She returned to the attic just as quickly as she left it and settled onto the decorative pillows she had strewn across the floor. The return address read: Bessie Potter, Paris, France. June 23rd, 1938 Dear Joey, Everyday something new happens here. Last night Bodie and I sang at the Café Noir. He sang and played the piano and I pretty much sat beside him chiming in every few notes. It was only for fun. We were a little bit tipsy. But you won’t believe this! The owner hired Bodie as a permanent musician! It’s wonderful here. I really wish that you could come, but it’s better for you at home. This life is too fast for you. I really miss you. I hope I can see you again soon, little sister. Until then, don’t forget to write. These little notes are the happiest part of my week. Write back soon. Love, your sister, Bessie Somehow Joey doubted that Bessie longed for her letters as much as she did hers, but it was nice to hear. Her grandmother, for a time, had intercepted the letters, feeling that Bessie was a bad influence on Joey. Joey and Bessie had finally devised a system that usually worked. They made sure Bessie’s letters arrived on the Thursday post when Grandmother Potter was at tea. Joey sent her letters to Bessie through the post office on Main Street, which was exactly where she was headed as soon as she scribbled her reply on the paper she had atop the book on her lap. Joey said what she always did: she wanted to come to Paris. That was all she wanted. ***************** “Now, Pacey, can I trust you with this?” the middle-aged brown-haired woman asked firmly from behind her desk, pushing her spectacles closer to her face. “I’ve been picking up your packages from the mercantile for the past two years Miss Pinchley, and they’ve always returned to you in perfect shape.” “Yes, but this is very important, Pacey. It must make it to the post office by 4 o’clock.” Pacey nodded and took the brown package from the table that sat in the corner of Miss Pinchley’s office. “I’ll guard it with my life.” Miss Pinchley’s stern expression attempted to break into a smile. Instead it looked as if she was passing gas, but Pacey understood the sentiment. “Now be off with you, boy.” Pacey scurried out of the office, passing a boy named Mike in the massive woodpaneled main corridor. "Where ya off to, Pace?" asked Mike. "To the post office, then after that... who knows," he chuckled. "Have fun, Pacey," said the boy, heading toward the kitchen. "I'm going to see if I can sneak a cookie past Miss Frei." "Be careful, she'll cut your hand off at the wrist if she catches you," Pacey laughed. "I never get caught," the boy said confidently, off to complete his mission. Pacey opened the front door and stepped outside. He gulped in the fresh air, gazing at the puffy white clouds and the blue sky that held them, happy to be out in the open. He galloped down the front steps and quickly through the front gate. "Ah, freedom." He held out his arms before him. He loved these errands. Miss Pinchley had come to understand that once she sent him somewhere, he'd disappear for hours. It had become okay years ago because Pacey always returned home and always seemed to stay out of trouble. Pacey thought that she favored him because of who his father was. He hated that, but he hated feeling trapped even more, so, he took advantage of the special treatment. None of the boys held it against him. Actually, they treated Pacey more like a hero than anything else. Really, the last few years at the orphanage hadn’t been so bad. He just wondered when his brother Doug would be back for him. He said he’d come for him when he was older. He was sixteen now. He was old enough to live on the road, but even he knew in his sheltered existence how badly the depression was sweeping the country. Maybe it was best for him to stay where he was for the time being. He whistled as he made his way down Main Street with Miss Pinchley’s package under his arm. He had two whole quarters in his pocket. He passed the movie house. That was an idea. Maybe he would catch a movie and have a hot dog and popcorn afterward. The movies played all day so he didn't really need to worry about times. He could catch what he missed as it rolled by again for the next show. He loved hiding in the movies almost as much as he loved hanging around Old Leo. People didn't bother him. People didn't stare. He arrived at the post office, which was just two buildings over from the theater. “Hello, Miss Potter,” said the man behind the counter to the young woman. Pacey knew who she was in an instant. He’d seen her a few times in town over the past few years, but they’d never spoken, never really been in direct contact with each other. She’d grown tall, although not quite as much as he had. Her hair fell down her back in perfect spirals and she appeared just as neat and rich as he expected Judge Potter’s granddaughter to look. He went and stood in line behind her, the package he was carrying now perched on his shoulder. “Hi, Mr. Johnson,” she said, handing the man an envelope. Pacey spoke up from behind her. “You know, Miss Potter, you could mail that letter from home and you wouldn’t have to walk all the way into town.” Joey felt a tingle travel up and down her spine. The sound of the smooth voice reminded her of her favorite treat going down her throat – chocolate with caramel. She turned around, although slightly unnerved and afraid that she would not be able to address the situation coherently, and took a deep breath. “Do I know you?” “Thankfully, no,” said Pacey. He couldn't help but think that she smelled awfully good. Joey did know him. He was someone she avoided like the plague for years out of guilt and fear of rejection, though she would not admit the latter to anyone. She was known as the spunky Potter girl whom most boys were afraid to approach for fear of their own rejection. She was not about to spoil that image. Joey’s eyes traveled over his form. She really hadn’t noticed how tall he’d gotten or how wide his shoulders were now. She shook her head clear of those thoughts. It would never do for him to or anyone else to read something into an innocent glance. So, she simply smiled and answered his earlier comment with a smooth retort. “Well, then I’d suggest you mind your own business.” “I will as soon as you move out of my way so I can get on with that business.” Joey rolled her eyes at him and hasitly stepped aside. She folded her arms in a huff. He really was irritating. Why did he have to hate her? Despite her being a little icy toward most boys, she really didn’t think anyone hated her, no one except Pacey Witter. She couldn’t stand that. She didn’t want people to hate her, and he shouldn’t hate her. Because it wasn’t her fault, right? He had no reason at all. Pacey stepped up to the counter and sputtered something off about special delivery for the package he handed to the man. The Potter girl’s presence was overwhelming him for some reason. He wondered if he really did hate her that much. He wondered if it was something else, and, for some reason, she stood there staring at him. “Can I help you?” Pacey snapped. Joey jumped at the harshness in his tone. Before she could stop her mouth from moving, she admitted, “I do have a question.” Pacey turned, taking the slip from the man behind the counter before turning back to Joey. He noticed a tinge of fear in her deep brown eyes. “What’s that?” “Is it me you really hate? Or just my family?” Pacey opened and closed his mouth, his heart thumping. No sound would come out. “I guess I have my answer then,” said Joey, walking out of the small building. The man at the counter gave Pacey a reproachful look. “Well, aren’t you going to go after her, boy?” Pacey cleared his throat and stared at the door. “Why would I want to do that?” The man shook his head. “Kids,” he said, disappearing into the back. As soon as the man was gone, Pacey high-tailed it outside. He stood outside of the post office searching for any sign of her. She couldn’t have gotten too far. He jogged a bit down the street and turned the corner in the direction of where he knew the judge lived. “Oof!” He ran clear into an old man, who stumbled, nearly losing his footing. “I’m so sorry, sir,” said Pacey, noticing that the girl he was looking for was standing about a foot behind the old man. “Are you all right, Mr. Parker?” she asked the old man. “All right, Josephine. This riff raff should look where he is going.” Pacey's heart stung at the comment but was too polite to say anything back. “That’s Sheriff Witter’s son, Mr. Parker," said Joey. The old man looked at Pacey narrowly for a moment as if he were trying to inspect him for authenticity and his eyes suddenly sparkled with recognition. “Oh, my boy," he said. "I didn’t recognize you. Terrible thing that happened to your family,” he said, gruffly, looking between the two young people who were both growing uncomfortable under his gaze. They knew what things were running through his mind. "Terrible,” he muttered, shaking his head. He tipped his hat to Joey and went on his way. The tension between Pacey and Joey did not dissipate after the old man’s departure. “Why did you say that?” asked Pacey. Joey shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it?” “Does it make me any better because I am the poor, glorified dead sheriff’s son than any other orphan in town?” Joey bit her lip nervously for a moment. “I… well, no, but…. Why are you talking to me anyway? I thought you hated me.” “I’m sorry. I never, I mean, I really don’t know you. So I really can’t hate you, can I?” “You have every right to,” Joey said sadly, shifting her eyes to the pavement. “Actually, I have no right to at all.” Joey squinted up at him, the warm sun on her face, and smiled. He didn’t hate her? Her heart lifted and suddenly she didn’t want to her conversation with him to end. "So, um...why don't you walk with me toward my house?" she found herself asking Pacey looked down at her, unsure. The way her eyelashes touched the skin of her face as she slowly blinked, waiting for his answer, made him tingle inside, like his body was on edge and his head was floating. He grinned back with all of his teeth. "Do you have to go home?" "I suppose not right away. My grandmother is out for a while." She thought that maybe she shouldn't be giving this boy she did not know very well all of the details about her life, but he seemed trustworthy enough, and she was so happy that he was actually talking to her, that he didn’t hate her, that she would agree to almost anything he asked of her at this point. She thought for a moment that maybe after today he would remember why he hated her and the rest of the Potters and go back to ignoring her. She hoped not. "I was thinking...are you listening, Miss Potter?" Joey blinked. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Pacey cleared his throat audibly before going on. "I was thinking... I have some money burning a hole in my pocket, and um, well, would you chance being seen going to see a movie with a riff raff like me?” Joey’s heart sped up and her mouth dropped open. “Are you asking me on a date?” “Nothing like that, so you can close your mouth.” He laughed as she blushed. “Besides, you’re too young to date.” Her eyes widened. “I’m fifteen.” Pacey started walking with Joey following beside him. “You should wait a year,” he went on, rounding the corner and passing the post office again. “Oh? And what would you know?” Pacey chuckled. He was really beginning to like this girl. There was something special about her spirit. She was electric. “I know plenty, Miss Josephine.” “Ugh. Only my grandmother calls me that. Please, just Joey,” she said as they approached the movie house, Pacey laughing at her obvious irritation at the use of her full name, but he did not tease her any further. They looked up at the marquee. It read Billy the Kid Returns and Daffy Duck Goes to Hollywood. “I love that Daffy Duck,” said Pacey. Joey rolled her eyes at him for the second time that afternoon. “Why does that not surprise me?” Pacey poked out his lip, and Joey laughed. “I’m glad you think I’m so funny, Miss Potter. I mean… Joey.” Joey smiled easily at his correction. As they stepped up to the counter, Joey tapped Pacey’s shoulder. “Since it’s not a date, I buy my own ticket and popcorn,” she insisted seriously. Pacey smiled. “Okay.” He was secretly glad. After he thought about it, fifty cents would hardly be enough to buy two tickets and snacks, if she wanted them. “Okay great,” she said, returning his smile. She was a pretty, that was for sure, pretty and refined and someone he knew would never and should never think twice about him – the orphan, the riff-raff, the nobody. Besides she was a Potter. They weren’t exactly supposed to be compatible. He shook these thoughts off quickly. They were a waste of time. Today, he was going to enjoy his freedom, his movie, and the company of a new friend. |
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 210 (9/14/03 6:41 pm) Reply |
Part IV Forget Me Not Book I: Part IV Wrong. Pacey had been wrong. Joey Potter was not his friend. She was far from it. Unfortunately, this fact did not stop Pacey from trying to figure his way around it every waking moment since he’d spent the day with her two weeks ago. He lay on his back in the hot sticky dormitory of the orphanage and listened to the heavy summer rain pour down the windowpanes. It was about an hour before dawn, so he decided it was useless to try and get back to sleep. She seemed to find her way into his dreams anyway. He let out a ragged, tired breath. Why did he feel this way about someone he barely knew? Pacey growled and struck his pillow with his fist, not caring if anyone woke up from the noise. He was suffering, why shouldn’t the others suffer too? He crossed his arms and returned to lying on his back. If anyone woke up, they didn’t make a sound. It was just as well. He was so worked up at this point he might start a predawn brawl for no good reason with one of his roommates. Damn that old woman! He clenched his fist. Damn himself. He generally saved this anger for the wee hours. Maybe it would have been different if he’d just let her walk home alone. He didn’t, of course. They’d had such a good time together; he didn’t want it to end. But he’d known it could never last. He even said it to himself that very day before being caught by the old bag. He knew she was right. It wouldn’t do for Joey to be seen with him. Not only was he an orphan, he was the biggest reminder in town of just how imperfect the Potter family was. “Inside, Josephine. Now!” the old woman had commanded the instant the two of them started up the walk of the house. Joey started to protest but one look from her grandmother caused her to tighten her lip and do as she was told. Pacey stood there, conflicted. He had the urge to push past the old woman and go to Joey and at the same time he wanted to run as far away from her as possible. His decision was made for him. After going coolly through a list of reasons why he was never to darken the Potter family’s doorstep, Elizabeth Potter looked down her upturned nose at him and spoke in clipped highly refined tone, “Goodbye, Mr. Witter.” That goodbye, to Elizabeth Potter, was one she obviously did not want to repeat. Pacey had heard through the town grapevine that Joey had been confined to the house for the remainder of the summer, only being allowed out Sundays, for church services and the picnics that followed during those warm months. He felt guilty and frustrated. It was difficult for him not to think that things would have been better off had they not met that day in the post office. It was also difficult for him to wish that day away. He’d never had so much fun and all they did was laugh at an old cartoon, make fun of the actors in an old Western and lumber down the streets of Capeside back toward the old judge’s house – Pacey teasing, Joey throwing sarcastic barbs his way. Why had being with her made him feel so content? Why did Elizabeth Potter have to be so evil? How had Joey managed to be the way she was growing up around that old bat? As the new day crept upon him, Pacey resigned himself to the truth – a friendship between him and Joey Potter was a fantasy. That was all he wanted, of course, a simple friendship. She made him laugh and that was something rare to come by. His major problem was he couldn’t stop trying to figure out a way to turn fantasy into reality. Hours later, Pacey trudged toward the kitchen after the customarily early breakfast every Saturday morning held. He was on kitchen duty today, which suited him fine. Maybe scowering pots and pans could get his mind off of a certain brunette citizen of free Capeside, a land quite unknown to him. “Pacey, there’s a letter for you.” A small dark-haired boy came running toward him waving a small envelope. He reached him out of breath, pressing the letter into his hand. “I was just about to go and put it on your bed when I saw you. Here.” It was from his brother, Doug. “Thanks Pete.” “No problem.” Pacey started to open the letter, when he noticed Pete looking up at him expectantly. Pacey chuckled. “Can I help you with anything else, Pete?” “Helping me with something else would mean that you actually helped with something just now. And I don’t think taking a letter from me was helping me. It was more like me helping you. You wouldn’t have even seen the letter until tonight when you went upstairs.” “There is a point to all of this, Pete?” “No, no point.” Pacey started to turn away. “Just that,” continued the rascally ten-year-old – Pacey turned back to face him, “you’ve been acting weird lately. Normally, I wouldn’t care what a guy did, but you’re, you know, you’re Pacey.” “Look, kid, I don’t know what you’re getting at but –“ “You haven’t played baseball with us for weeks, and what happened to the black jack king? No poker nights with the guys. No sneaking in girlie magazines. You don’t even try to snag fudge from town for us kids.” “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” “It’s not a girl, is it?” Pacey’s eyes widened for a second before returning to normal size in order to feign non-chalance. “Of course it’s not. Now scoot.” Pete wasn’t buying it nor was he budging. “It is a girl! Does she have big knockers like Miss December?” “You know you’re not supposed to be looking at those magazines, Pete. You’re way too young.” “You’re only as young as you think you are,” the kid said with an air of mock-wisdom. Pacey laughed. “I think you’ve got that a little backwards.” The boy could not be distracted from his earlier line of questioning. “So, does she?” he asked looking up at Pacey expectantly. Instead of giving him an answer, however, Pacey turned the boy around by his shoulders and gave him nudge in the direction he’d come from. “Goodbye, Pete.” Pete threw his hands up, looking back at Pacey with an irritated but nevertheless impish sort of smile. “Sheesh, so touchy! I was only trying to help.” “Go help someone else.” “I’m going. I’m going.” Pacey shook his head as Pete scampered down the hallway, off to finish his mail deliveries and find mischief, which ever came first. The kid reminded him of himself even more than Buzz did. He was ten and tough and had all the answers, but there was something else there, something sad inside of him, an attribute not uncommon among the boys at Miss Pinchley’s. Sighing, Pacey shifted his attention back to the letter and finally ripped it open. Hey Pace, I have good news. I’ve actually found steady work. I’m working with a rancher in Monterey, California. Yep, way out west. It’s a good job actually. It’s part manual labor part paper work, if you can believe that. The guy fashions himself some sort of movie type. I don’t know much about what he does yet, but I am making good money. I also wanted to tell you that I miss you, little brother. I know we didn’t see eye to eye on much before Dad died, but you’re all the family I’ve got left. We have to stick together, even if we are 3,000 miles away from each other. I keep thinking about the good times we had – the picnics and the parties, the town jamborees. Then that scum Potter went and destroyed it all. I know you don’t like to talk about it too much, but Pace, sometimes I just can’t get it out of my head. We’re just lucky he died in jail otherwise you’d have a brother for a murderer. Well, enough of that talk. Have you started dating yet? I vaguely recall your mentioning Mr. Marchbeck’s twins having grown up nicely. I don’t mean to lecture you, Pace, but be careful where women are concerned. They have delicate hearts. Don’t be the type of guy who repeatedly breaks one after the other just to get in someone’s pants. Be a gentleman. And if perchance, you happen to find one that bowls you over for a loop, sends you insane in the head, or some other sort of madness, grab on to her, keep her safe, and watch out for both of your hearts. I hope to see you one day soon, Pacey. I really do miss your annoying me day in and day out. All the best, Doug **************** Joey missed her dog. As silly as that sounded, the small cocker-spaniel, who died just a little over six months ago, had been her greatest comfort, especially on days like today. The things she loved most always seemed to slip away from her when she needed them most. It was midmorning. The sun filtered through the dining room window of the Potter home, claming a happy day, when Joey felt it would be anything but. Joey twiddled her fork across the food on her plate as she sat across from her grandmother. “Something wrong with your eggs, Josephine?” “I don’t like them poached. You know that.” “We must learn to endure the things we don’t like on occasion.” Joey knew her grandmother was no longer referring to breakfast, so she willed herself not to scowl or better yet throw her plate of eggs across the table. It was, of course, unreasonable to expect her to maintain a pleasant expression, not toss her eggs, and remain silent all at the same time. So she smiled pleasantly and replied to her grandmother’s remark. “I assume that only applies to me, correct, grandmother?” “Josephine, we have discussed this at length. Things are they way they are for a reason.” “The reason they are any way is because you don’t allow me any control over my life. I’m not allowed to choose where I go to school or who I want to be friends with.” “Ah, so this is about that boy again.” “It’s not about the boy, grandmother. It’s about my life. I’m old enough to make some decisions for myself.” “You certainly are not. You are still a child, a child who needs more discipline and lessons in refinement than I have obviously instilled in you.” “So, you think I’m crude?” Elizabeth’s face softened a bit. “No, Josephine, of course I don’t. But I don’t want you to turn out like your sister.” At this, Joey’s control dissolved. “There is nothing wrong with my sister!” Joey was on her feet.” You’re the one with the problem. Prejudice and closed-minded and …” Elizabeth stared at Joey, daring her to continue. But the younger Potter backed down, knowing a fight on her part would prove to be futile. “Miss Porter’s is a very lovely school. It’s a privilege that not many girls get to partake in.” Joey provided her grandmother with a tight-lipped smile. The subject was closed. She was being shipped off to Connecticut and there was nothing she could do about it. She missed her grandfather. He was in Boston and would be for a while longer on professional matters. It wasn’t that he could particularly do anything about her situation. Joey knew and had always known that though Judge Potter was a powerhouse in the community, when it came to their home and children, Elizabeth Potter was judge, jury and executioner. “May I be excused?” asked Joey, wanting desperately to cocoon herself upstairs in the attic and write Bessie a long drawn out letter, a letter that she had no way of mailing with her grandmother guarding her like she was, but a letter she had to write nonetheless. “You may,” said Elizabeth, watching Joey turn to leave the room. “Josephine,” she said and Joey hastened at the doorstep. “I’m only doing what’s best for you.” Joey nodded. She knew her grandmother loved her. Unfortunately, the way she loved was suffocating. Joey continued her retreat to the attic, wondering just how she was going to get her letter to Bessie. She knew the ones Bessie sent weekly were now being torn up without so much as a word to her. But there had to be a way. Joey slipped into her cozy retreat, pulled out a paper and pen and began writing. Dear Bessie, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write to you sooner. This letter is going to be very difficult to get to the post office, since grandmother is watching me like a hawk. She’s stopped visiting her friends so she can make sure I stay here. Why you ask? Because I talked to a boy. That’s it! A boy walked me home, and it wasn’t anything romantic or even close. He was just being nice. We’re just friends. Not even friends yet because grandmother put a stop to it. She doesn’t approve of him. Actually, I’m not sure you would approve of him either, but he’s a nice boy. He’s a good person. I can tell that already. Well, none of it matters because, to make matters worse, I’m getting shipped off to Miss Porter’s next month! I guess I should be glad for a chance to get out of this nuthouse. The thing is I’m going to miss it. Not like I miss you or anything. I’d much rather be with you in Paris than be here. But this is my home, Bess. And what about grandfather? I can’t just leave him here. And Dawson. He doesn’t have any other friends besides me. What’s he going to do all alone? We take care of each other, you know? And, well, the boy I met, actually I already knew him. So do you sort of. Well, his name is Pacey. Yes, Pacey Witter is the boy I walked home with. Don’t get angry with me Bess, but it wasn’t his fault his father went after dad. He doesn’t hate me; at least he didn’t act like it. I know I should keep my distance from any Witter I ever meet, but really, I don’t think it’s fair. I had so much fun with him. We went to the movies. I bought my own ticket, so it wasn’t a date, but it was …. Well, I don’t know what to say. I have to go now, Bess. I really really miss you. I know grandmother has been destroying the letters you’ve sent me. I don’t think she tried to read them, which is a surprise. I think she would be able to tell that we’ve been writing to each other behind her back if she had. She probably just throws them out as soon she sees them. But don’t worry because! Oh, I just thought of an idea! I’ll ask Dawson to help me out. Maybe you can send your letters to me there until I start school. After that we won’t have to worry. I know I shouldn’t make a big deal out of this, but reading your letters are the only thing that keep me from going crazy. Tell Bodie I said hi! Love, your sister, Joey Joey stuffed the letter into an envelope, addressed it, slapped a stamp on it, and went downstairs to beg her grandmother if she could visit Dawson today. She found her in the drawing room, her glasses perched at the tip of her nose, reading. Joey pleaded her case maturely and was quite relieved to see her grandmother smile graciously in response. “Well, of course, I will call up Gale and arrange for him to visit this afternoon.” Joey sighed. Of course, she should have known this wouldn’t be easy. “Please, grandmother! I need to get out of the house. It’s only next door. I promise I won’t stay more than a couple of hours.” “All right, I will call Gale and see if it’s all right. Maybe I will stop by and have a chat with her myself. I haven’t had a chance to speak with her in ages.” Joey found it extremely difficult not to roll her eyes. Five-years-old, that’s how she was being treated! Like a baby. Elizabeth must have noticed Joey’s discomfort because in the next moment she added. “But maybe some other time. I have a few things around the house, I have to attend to.” Joey smiled and hugged her grandmother. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Josephine. I like the Leery boy. He’s a good companion for you.” Joey simply nodded. She did like Dawson. He was a nice friend to have. But was she only to have one friend for the rest of her life? She supposed her grandmother would approve of the girls at Miss Porter’s. Maybe they would be all right. Joey realized her grandmother was still talking, unsure if she really wanted to hear what else she had to say, Joey reluctantly refocused her attention on the older woman. “I just have to make sure you are all right. You are growing up and becoming more beautiful every day. You are not a little girl any more. You have to mind whom you keep in your company. Do you understand?” Joey did not understand, but she nodded anyway. She had a letter to get out and right now, Dawson was her only ticket. She just hoped her bullying skills still worked on him. “Remember, Josephine, straight there and straight back.” “Yes, ma’am.” **************** “I’ll never get used to how disgusting this is,” said Buzz, making a face beside Pacey as he scrubbed a particularly nasty bit of porridge from the bottom of his pot. “You say that every week,” Pacey replied rather absently. “Yeah, well, it’s gross. I wonder if there is a way we could get out of kitchen duty all together. I like outside work better. Hey, I know. Why don’t you think of a plan, Pacey? You’re good at plans.” The younger spiky-haired boy waited for a reply but got none. He watched as Pacey scrubbed furiously, cleaning pot after pot quickly. “Hey, Pace, you got somewhere to be?” Still no reply. “Hello? Pacey?” “What?” Pacey replied absently. His mind was on Doug’s letter and what he said about women. Why had he chosen to mention that now of all times? Right the Marchbeck twins. He told him about Helen and Harriet and their tantalizing new curves months ago. But it wasn’t the two stunning red heads that were on his mind, not it was a rather irritating but extremely beautiful brunette. “I said, are you in a hurry or somethin’?” Buzz interrupted his thoughts. “What?” “Do you got someplace to be?” he asked obviously irritated for having to repeat himself and being ignored. Pacey frowned at the boy. “I, uh, yeah, yeah. Look, can you cover for me today, kid?” Buzz sighed heavily, sounding very put out, before replying, “Wouldn’t be the first time.” “Great,” said Pacey throwing the rag he had draped across his shoulder at Buzz. “I owe ya one.” “You owe me twenty.” “Right, kid,” Pacey said, nudging Buzz playfully in the shoulder. “See ya later.” “So much for getting out of kitchen duty,” Pacey thought he heard Buzz mumble. Yeah, he would have to make it up to him some time. Carefully sneaking through the front part of the house, Pacey slipped out of the front door and out on to the street. Saturdays should not be spent inside anyway. Of course, Pinchely’s answer to that would be yard work, which wasn’t bad when he didn’t have things to do elsewhere. **************** “Mrs. Leery, thank you for letting me stay.” Joey said, taking a sip of her lemonade. “When will Dawson and Mr. Leery be back?” The two women sat at a small table near the window in the front of the bright and airy house. The furniture was the opposite of the antique furniture found in the Potter’s home. Everything was new and modern – young, like the Leery family. “They’ll be home tomorrow. Mitchell wanted to spend some father son time with him.” Joey nodded. “I hear Providence is beautiful in the summer.” “It is.” “You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Paris in the summer.” “Oh, Paris is an amazing city, so artistic.” “Bessie’s told me about it in her letters.” “Is she having a nice time?” “I don’t think she’s going to come home.” “Oh. Well, Europe is a wonderful place to see, despite all of the tension over there. Of course, they say that it’ll die down sooner rather than later, so who knows maybe you’ll get a chance to visit some day soon.” Joey nodded, tempted to ask Dawson’s mother if she could help her with her problem. But she decided against it. It was too risky. Gale Leery was a nice woman, but she wasn’t the type that would approve of a child defying their elders. “I’m being sent to Miss Porter’s this fall,” Joey announced with sadness laced through her words. “That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Leery smiled kindly. “I’m being forced to do it.” “This may be a blessing, Joey. You’ll have a chance to grow up. Be on your own.” Maybe she was right. She would be away from her grandmother. She could study and work to get into a good college. She could become her own person. That’s really all she wanted. Joey looked up and noticed Mrs. Leery was staring past her with a curious frown at something outside. “Is that Pacey Witter out there?” Mrs. Leery asked. Suddenly, Joey’s pulse quickened and her breath became short. “Pacey Witter?” she asked, eyes round and expectant. “Oh, he and Dawson were friends as children, but I haven’t seen him around here in ages.” Joey guessed Mrs. Leery missed her grandmother yelling at Pacey on their front lawn two weeks earlier. She also seemed to miss the fact that Potters and Witters were not supposed to mix because before Joey could even reply, Dawson’s mother was on her feet, rushing to open the door. It was as if she were afraid she might not catch him before he passed. “I –“ Joey followed Mrs. Leery to the door, trying to think of something to say. She couldn’t let Pacey see her. “Mrs. Leery, my grandmother doesn’t want me to…” Mrs. Leery smiled back at Joey, placing her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t worry.” Joey’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Mrs. Leery gave her a pointed look. She knew. Of course she knew about it. Everyone in town did. The doorbell rang. He was coming to visit them? Was this a set up? Maybe Dawson’s mom would prove to be a worthy ally. Joey took a deep breath, noticing Mrs. Leery seemed to waiting for her permission to open the door to her own house, and nodded. “Just as long as my grandmother doesn’t catch me.” Without a reply, Mrs. Leery opened the door to reveal a nervous looking Pacey. “Mrs. Leery, is Dawson home?” He looked toward the Potter house as he spoke, having yet to notice Joey. “No, he's on a trip with his father.” At this, Pacey finally turned his head. His unreadable eyes were completely transfixed on the young brunette behind his friend’s mother. “But Joey and I were just having some lemonade. Would you care to join us?” “I, um, I don’t think – I was just looking for Dawson, you know, haven’t seen him for a while, thought I’d drop by, say hi.” Joey thought he looked kind of sweet as he rambled, standing there in an old blue shirt and patched up trousers, his hands stuffed in the pockets. She noticed that he had a scar on his cheek. Had that been there before? And a bit of stubble, he had obviously taken care to get rid of on the day of their previous encounter. Joey blushed, realizing he was still staring at her. “Hi,” he finally said in her direction. “Hello.” “You are more than welcome to come in and join us, Pacey,” Mrs. Leery repeated with a warm smile. “Um, I guess, that’d be okay for a little while.” “Wonderful. I’ll go get you some lemonade. Make yourself at home.” Mrs. Leery disappeared into the kitchen. Joey stepped into the room she and Mrs. Leery had just vacated with Pacey close behind her. She didn’t know if she should sit or stand. Pacey seemed to be going through the same dilemma as he was looking warily between the sofa and an armchair, shifting his feet from side to side. “Um,” started Joey, failing an attempt to break the tension. The two of them stared at each other awkwardly. “So…” Pacey tried, but failed just as miserably as Joey had. Luckily, Mrs. Leery chose that moment to return with a pitcher of lemonade and a glass filled for Pacey. “So, I don’t have to keep running back for more. I know Dawson can never drink one glass.” She set the pitcher down on a large hand-sewn doily then turn to hold out the glass to Pacey. “Drink up, sweetie. It’s a hot day.” “Thank you,” Pacey responded, graciously accepting the tall cool beverage. Mrs. Leery quickly retrieved hers and Joey’s glasses and topped them off with more of the deliciously sweet but sour drink. “Go on make yourself at home. Have a seat,” said Mrs. Leery, sitting in the armchair that Joey had been eyeing hopefully. She wasn’t sure she wanted to actually sit next to Pacey on the sofa. It looked like neither of them had a choice, unless, of course, she decided to leave. No, she was a big girl. Sitting on a sofa beside a boy was no big deal. Besides he was nice. And she’d sat beside him for hours in the movie theater, much closer than they would have to sit now. Pacey sat first, choosing to slide as far as possible to the right side of the sofa. Joey took his lead and did the same thing to the left. She supposed they looked rather silly. Mrs. Leery pretended not to notice and began conversation as she would with any guest. She asked many questions, told him how much she and the family missed seeing him around. She asked him about school. “Well, I’m doing pretty decent in math.” “Just decent?” “Well, I’m top of the class really. Mrs. Pinchley let’s me help look after the books. She says I have a head for business.” “That’s wonderful.” Pacey grinned bashfully. “I don’t know what good it’ll ever do me.” “I’m sure it’ll do you a world of good. Well, I really have to get started on these pies I’m making for the church picnic tomorrow. It’s my turn to do part of the dessert.” “Oh, well, then we’ll just be going,” speaking for the first time in a while. “Nonsense. Stay here, finish your lemonade.” Before giving either one a chance to say no, Mrs. Leery dashed back into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. Joey’s stomach clenched as sense of dread climbed up her back. Her grandmother was going to find out. Instead of Miss Porter’s School for young ladies, it would be a convent. She had to get out there. She was going to be found out. But then he started to talk. Joey wasn’t certain what he’d exactly said, but his voice somehow comforted her. “It’s not so bad,” he finished what ever he had been saying. “What’s not? I’m sorry.” “Where I live.” Joey looked a little perplexed but not wanting to seem like a complete idiot nodded her agreement. “You didn’t hear a word I said did you?” Pacey laughed, for the first time looking completely at ease. “No,” said Joey, a blush pinching her cheeks. “Well, it wasn’t important.” “Oh.” Pacey swigged down the last of his lemonade then poured himself another. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened with your grandmother.” Joey shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault.” “It was. I got you into trouble.” “You didn’t get me into trouble. It just happened.” Joey watched as he picked at a pillow cushion absently. He looked pensive and sad. “It just happened. You couldn’t have done anything about it.” Joey startled as Pacey rammed his fist into the pillow. “I should have known better,” he said in a low, controlled voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joey bit back, feeling a sting in her chest. “You know exactly what I mean.” “I’m not as smart as I look. Enlighten me.” “Fine, if you want me to spell it out for you. We’re different. So, damn different.” “You shouldn’t swear,” she said without thinking. It was something her grandparents would say. Something the church people would say. “See! That’s just what I mean. You’re from up here.” Pacey dangled a hand above his head then lowered it to below his knees. “And I’m from down there. You’ve got a family that loves you. I’ve got nobody.” “Oh, and let me guess. You think that’s my fault. Right?” “I never said that.” “No, but you blame me for my father.” “I would never… Joey, I never even considered blaming you.” Joey’s expression in response obviously meant she didn’t believe him. “Okay, I did a long time ago. But it was what everyone wanted me to do. My brother basically declared on my father’s grave that we were never to talk to the Potters again.” “Then why did you talk to me that day? Why are you even standing here with me right now?” “Because I know it’s not your fault. You were a little kid. You were just as much a victim as I was.” The expression on Pacey’s face was so sincere, she had to look away. Her heart felt thick. Her throat was tight. Her eyes stung with tears. She felt awful about what had happened to Pacey because of her father. She felt it was her fault somehow. She knew that was crazy. She barely even knew Sheriff Witter. She had no idea what her father was ever a bootlegger or involved with whom her grandmother referred to as “unsavories”. But Mike Potter’s blood still coursed through her veins and now he was dead. She was his legacy. “You’re right. We’re too different.” “No, Joey. I didn’t mean it. That day, I had a good time. I thought you had a good time too,” he finished, the last words coming out in a feathery whisper. Joey wanted to cry. He wanted to be her friend. “I did,” she told him truthfully. “But…. It doesn’t matter now.” Pacey’s eyes flickered with determination. “What are you talking about, it doesn’t matter? We had a good time. If we want to be friends then-“ “It doesn’t matter because I’m going away,” Joey said quickly, wanting to bury face in her hands and crumple over. Of course, she did not. She remained composed, as she knew she had to. There was no sense in making her torrent emotions known. Especially, when they made no sense to her whatsoever. “Going away? Going away where?” asked Pacey, his eyes almost fearful as he waited for her answer. “To school,” Joey said with a sigh. “My grandmother is sending me to boarding school.” “What!” Pacey stood up. “Boarding school?” Joey simply nodded. He was now standing just a few feet in front her. “Is it because of me? Is this my fault?” Joey shook her head, imploring him to believe her. “No, it’s not.” She chewed on her lip nervously. It wasn’t his fault. It was her screwed up life. He didn’t understand that. Her life had never been perfect. He seemed to think he’d messed this congenial world he thought she lived in. He didn’t understand that he could not have messed up what was already in tatters to begin with. “It seems a little convenient that as soon as she finds out her precious granddaughter is hanging around pond scum that she decides to ship her off,” he said in response. Her heart ached for him. As much as she missed her mother, cried for her to come back to her, as much as she missed Bessie and abhorred the bigoted society that kept her from home, as much as she furiously hated being locked away from everyone and everything, she was sure that nothing in her life could have ever compared to what Pacey had suffered. At least she wasn’t alone. Joey rose to her feet and moved to stand beside him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re not pond scum. Don’t talk like that,” she said softly. His blue eyes focused on her, dancing around her face with an intense look behind them. She had to swallow to remove the thickness from her throat and continue to speak. “And it isn’t your fault, all right? I was supposed to start last year. I got out of it. She said I would have to go eventually someday. I guess Wednesday, September 21st is the someday I’ve been avoiding.” She dropped her hand from his arm and looked up at him with a sad smile. “How far away is it?” She was surprised by this question for some reason and couldn’t help but feel a bit of mirth creep into her heart at an image that suddenly came into her head. “What, are you planning on coming to raid the girls’ dorms?” Pacey grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I might.” Joey laughed. It was a real laugh. She hadn’t had one of those in a while – a little over two weeks to be exact. “Well, are you going to Timbuktu?” “Huh?” “I did ask you a question did I not, Josephine?” “Ugh. I told you not to call me that.” Pacey grinned at the obvious irritation the use of her given name caused her. “I happen to like the name Josephine.” “Well, I don’t.” She frowned and crossed her arms across her chest haughtily. Pacey allowed himself a chuckle before actually relenting. But he raised his hands in surrender and said, “Fair enough, but you still haven’t answered my question.” “It’s in Farmington. You know, Connecticut. It’s not that far really. I just…” A weighted sigh tumbled out of her mouth. “Don’t really want to go.” Joey half shrugged a shoulder. “It could be a good experience. Mrs. Leery seems to think it might be a good opportunity to kind of find myself, grow up a little.” Pacey’s eyebrows jumped up in an imitation of surprise. “Well, then by all means you should get packing.” Joey narrowed her eyes at him playfully, unable to keep the smile off of her face. This is what she loved about him. He made her feel happy without even trying at all. “So, how long will you be in this school?” he asked. “I’ll be home on holidays. We get nearly a month off at winter then it’s the same thing in the springtime. It shouldn’t be so bad.” “Yeah,” he whispered. “You could write to me. I mean, if you wanted,” she spoke softly, not remembering just how it was they had gotten even closer to each other in the last few seconds. “Would you read my letters if I sent them?” “Of course I would.” She gave him a little half smile that caused him to grin like a Cheshire cat. Suddenly, she had a thought. “Oh!” The letter. “Would you do something for me?” “What’s that?” he asked, watching her pull a small white envelope not unlike the one he’d received from Doug that morning. Funny, how that seemed like a lifetime ago. “Would you mail this for me?” She held the letter out for him to take. Pacey took it from her and flipped it over. It was completely stamped and addressed to one Elizabeth Potter in Paris, France – Joey’s sister. “Why can’t you just mail it from home?” “My grandmother won’t allow it.” Pacey let an incredulous eyebrow lift high on his forehead. “She won’t allow you to write to your own sister?” Joey shook her head. “Not even Miss Pinchley,” he started flabbergasted. “Jo, I’m sorry but that is just-“ “Don’t say it, Pacey. I already know. Besides, she thinks she’s doing what’s best for me," said Joey, her mind still trying to wrap around the fact that he'd just called her Jo. The shortening of her already shortened name almost sounded like an endearment as it tumbled out of his mouth. Pacey gave her a look but knew not to press the issue. The woman was after all Joey’s family. It was her problem to deal with. Instead, he nodded and gave her a simple smile. “I’ll take it to the post office on Monday. They’re probably closed by now.” “Yes,” Joey agreed. “But you won’t forget? It’s really important.” “I won’t.” “Thanks.” The warm comfort that had spread throughout the room for the last fifteen minutes was suddenly replaced with the awkwardness from earlier. Joey’s mind shifted to her grandmother. She might get the idea of coming over to have that ‘chat’ with Mrs. Leery if Joey didn’t return soon. “I, uh, I better get back.” “Oh,” Pacey’s face fell for a fraction of a second, quickly recovering with a bright smile. “Well, it was nice seeing you.” “Yeah. Nice seeing you too.” Joey began toward the door, but turned around after only a few steps. “Don’t forget the letter,” she said, holding up her index finger and grinning. “I won’t.” “Just making sure.” Joey walked out of the Leery house and back toward the Fortress Potter. Pacey sighed. The girl was amazing. So smart, so beautiful, so much like him, but so different. Was this what Doug meant? He was absolutely for sure bowled over for a loop. Joey Potter had certainly made him crazy. Even that tiny touch on his sixteen-year-old arm did things to him that he did not want to even mention. Maybe it was just physical. Somehow, he didn’t think that was the case. Mrs. Leery picked that moment to return from the kitchen, flour all over the front of her apron. It seemed like ages since she’d left the two of them together. “Hey you two… Where’s Joey?” “She had to leave,” said Pacey. “Oh well, I was just going to ask the two of you to help me out with these pies for a little bit. You wouldn’t mind would you, Pacey?” “I’m no good in the kitchen.” “Oh, it’s easy,” she reassured him. “But I understand if you’d rather not be cooped up.” Pacey glanced toward the front door. He wouldn’t mind being cooped up with a certain brunette and – he quickly halted that line of thinking. Where he wanted to be was strictly forbidden. He was also absolutely sure that he was not ready to go back home. “No, actually I think I’ll stay. Maybe your fine culinary skills will rub off on me.” “Wonderful!” Mrs. Leery exclaimed. She must miss Dawson, thought Pacey. Maybe it would be nice having a real mother for one afternoon. As Pacey followed her into the kitchen, his mind drifted to Joey once again. Joey. What the hell was he going to do about her? He wanted her in his life so badly. But what was a sixteen-year-old orphan with no money going to do about it? He remembered something his grandfather used to tell him when he was a little boy. “Where there’s a will. There’s a way, Pacey.” He definitely had the will where Joey Potter was concerned. Now he just had to find a way. **************** Please reply, I really would like to hear from you if you are reading this. |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 74 (9/15/03 12:51 pm) Reply |
Re: Part IV Ooooooooh yay! That second part was definitely a new part I hadn't read and my goodness, I loved it! Ahhh, star crossed lovers being kept apart but longing for one another *sighs dreamily* I could feel every ounce of their pain and awkwardness around one another just then.... but they can't keep away can they? I'm so glad they managed to see each other before she leaves and that they promised to write - now roll on the holidays so they can meet up again. Oh, and I want to read some of those love letters too! |
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 211 (9/16/03 11:19 pm) Reply |
Re: Part IV
Oh no, Suz there is more angst to be had in the present! I'll be back with more and throw you for a real loop
Luv ya bunches! Me EzCode Parsing Error: face=verdana color=fuchsia size=1]EzCode Parsing Error: color=fuchsia size=1]EzCode Parsing Error: color=fuchsia]Reading is Righteously Rockin'. Feedback is Funkily Fabulous. Writing is Wonderfully Wicked. I Advocate All of[/font][/font] |
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 214 (9/21/03 3:57 pm) Reply |
Part VA This is for you, Suz! I hope you're still reading. "Maybe this isn't a good idea," said Dawson, glancing over the Potters' porch railing and looking nervously down the street. "Stop saying that." Joey sighed from her place on the wicker bench that sat beside the front door. She looked at the blond boy sitting on the small stool across from her. She could tell by his face that a morals lecture was ready at his lips. She folded her arms and sat prepared with her eyebrows raised. "It isn't right to lie to your grandmother," began Dawson. "This is a betrayal of her trust. Even if you, or even I, can't see the reason she makes these rules up, they must have a purpose." "You owe me for not agreeing to help me with my letters to Bessie," Joey said simply. Dawson frowned. "I already told you why I can't." "Because it wouldn't be right?" "And because I don't want you to get into trouble." "And you don't want to get caught. Really, what do you think my grandmother would actually do to you if she found out?" "I don't know, but I'm not willing to find out. You may not be able to visit me any more. Who would I talk to? Besides, she's finally let you come and go between my house and yours without bothering us at all. I think you ought to be grateful." At this, Joey could do nothing but roll her eyes. He could be so self-righteous when he wanted to be. "Fine, but you have to do this for me today. We won't get caught. And besides, this is in the spirit of friendship." She'd first told Dawson of her plan to invite Pacey to the Leerys' two days ago. She said that she was afraid that after her grandmother banished him from their lives that he would misunderstand and think that Joey thought less of him. And what better way to end the Potter-Witter feud than a friendly get-together? Thankfully, Mrs. Leery had not told Dawson about the afternoon she and Pacey spent with her, so Joey conveniently left it out of the scenario. Ignoring the heavy sigh Dawson made in response to her previous statement, Joey pressed on with her argument. "All I want to do is be friends with him, to call a family truce, at least between the two of us. You said yourself that you think the bad blood between us should be washed away." Joey watched as Dawson dropped his head and nodded. She felt a grin tug at her lips. This meant he was relenting. "Not to mention Pacey was your friend. You know he isn't a bad person." She saw him nod. "This is really important to me." "All right, Joey." "Thanks, Dawson." "Well, at least you're not making me sneak you letters every week." "Right. This is just for the day, the afternoon really." "I don't need any more persuasion, Joey. Anyway, he should be here soon, we better get started." Joey nodded then quickly stood up. "See you in a few minutes," she said before pressing the front door's screen open and heading into the living room where the elder Potter woman of the household would be. This part of the plan was only for precaution. Joey was going to distract her grandmother while Dawson snuck Pacey by. This way they would be certain they weren't caught. Joey had wanted to simply wait at Dawson's house for him to show up, but Dawson refused, stating that someone was bound to see them. Not wanting to let on that Joey and Pacey had already had a visit at the Leery residence without consequence, she agreed to what she thought was a useless plan. Her real problem was going to be finding time to be alone with Pacey and ask him that favor. "Josephine, I thought you were outside with the Leery boy." Joey settled in a large chair where she could easily see out of the front window. She saw Dawson standing a few feet in front of the house, looking down the street. "He went home, but wanted to know if I could come by for lunch in a few minutes." "It's summer time. You should have fun. But as long as you go straight there and come straight back." "I will." "Good." Just then Joey saw Dawson signaling to her. Her heartbeat sped up. Pacey was there. Pay attention, Joey. "Uh, grandmother, I think I'll play something on the piano, if you don't mind." "Oh, how wonderful. I haven't heard you play in weeks. What will be your selection?" Joey kept her grandmother busy for the necessary amount of time, while Dawson snuck Pacey around the back of his house and into the kitchen. "Dawson, what's the big idea?" Dawson closed the door behind them, looking just as nervous as he had before Pacey arrived. "Joey and I just wanted to be safe. You know, in case someone saw you with her, particularly her grandmother." "I understand about Joey not wanting to get in trouble," said Pacey, "but is there really a reason for me to sneak around? I'm allowed to visit a friend if I want to." "But you aren't allowed to see Joey." "Like hell I'm not. That old bag isn't in charge of me." "I told her this wasn't a good idea." "What is that supposed to mean?" "Nothing, let's just go into the other room and wait for Joey." Pacey quelled the urge to hit Dawson for acting so smug and superior. What happened to that kid he used to boss around? "So, I guess you haven't been here in a while. Still look the same?" Pacey's forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean, Dawson? I was -" It was at that time Joey came through the unlocked door, and Pacey forgot what he was saying. "Hey," said Joey, her eyes trained on Pacey, barely noticing Dawson was in the room too. "Hi," Pacey returned. He stared at her the same way he had when he'd come to visit Dawson the week before. Joey cleared her throat and finally turned to Dawson. He looked both uncomfortable and annoyed. "So, Dawson, is there anything to eat? I'm starving." "Oh, right. Why don't you help me?" he asked pointedly. He obviously had something to say to her. Joey, however, did not want to listen at that moment. "Are you sure you need me? I don't think we should leave Pacey in here all alone." Dawson shrugged. "He can help too." "Sure, no problem." The two of them followed Dawson into the kitchen to retrieve the inside picnic Mrs. Leery left for them - chicken sandwiches, deviled eggs, and lemonade. "We can just eat in here if you two don't mind," suggested Dawson. "It's not every day I get a chance to forego the gourmet mush they serve at the orphanage." Dawson's eyes grew wide, first with shock then pity. He was surprised when Pacey began to chuckle. "I was just kidding," started Pacey, his chuckles still bubbling over. "I had eggs and toast for breakfast. Relax, Dawson." Joey smiled at the exchange. Her heart fluttered as she noticed Pacey's face and eyes light up mirthfully. For some reason seeing him happy, made her feel warm inside. They ate together in silence, each of them helping themselves to more lemonade when their glasses became empty. When they'd stuffed themselves sufficiently, Dawson took the plates glasses to the sink. Joey was about to use this opportunity to excuse herself into the next room, with a request that Pacey accompany her. But before she had a chance, Pacey rose to help Dawson. Gritting her teeth and cursing herself for not being more crafty, Joey stood up and joined them. "Dawson, I think I want to hear some music," said Joey, hoping that finally he'd leave she and Pacey alone for at least half a second. "Yeah," piped up Pacey. "What do you say we liven' up the joint?" "Well," hesitated Dawson, "my record player is upstairs. My parents don't keep one down here." This Joey knew. "That's all right. Just go get it." "What do you want to hear?" "Um, got any Benny Goodman?" asked Pacey. "Yeah!" Dawson seemed to perk up at the idea of listening to his favorite band leader. "I'll be right back." Joey sighed. Finally. "I thought he'd never leave," Joey mumbled, turning scarlet after realizing she'd said those words aloud. "Why Miss Potter, you bad egg." Joey's jaw dropped. She looked positively scandalized. "I am not a bad egg. I was just… I… Look, I don't have time to argue with you right now." "So, when do we get to argue?" He grinned playfully. "Pacey, please. I'm being serious," Joey huffed. Pacey held his hands up in surrender, but his eyes were still dancing with the fun of having gotten under her skin so easily. "All right, all right, don't blow your wig." Joey reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope almost identical to the one she'd given him the last time she saw him. "You want me to mail another letter for you." Joey nodded, glancing up the stairs. "And you don't want Dawson to know?" This time she shook her head. "I already asked him to do it for me, and he won't," she explained. "Why not?" "I almost get the feeling that he doesn't approve of Bessie either," Joey said a little sadly. "He's just afraid to go against the grain sometimes. I don't think he thinks your sister is a bad person." Joey frowned. "How would you know?" "Well, for one, he said something to me when we were kids about how wrong it was for your sister to have to leave like she did just because of Bodie." "She loves him," she said firmly. "I know." "That's what's important." "If he loves her back the same way, it is." "He does." "Well, then-" "Listen," she cut him off, needing to get whatelse she had on her mind said before Dawson returned, "mailing the letter isn't the only favor I need to ask you." "What is it?" "Well, I need someone to well, receive Bessie's letters for me and then give them to me later." "Aren't I the last person you should be asking to do this? Isn't your grandmother watching you day and night to make sure that you don't come in contact with a no good like me?" "I was thinking we could find some way for you to get it to me on Sunday after church. Maybe at the picnic afterwards. It won't be more than three times, really, maybe just twice." "I don't go to church." "I know that." "You do?" "I never see you there. The other boys come, but never you." Pacey shrugged. "I have my reasons." "Well, that's the only time I have. I know we can't be seen together but maybe you could leave it some place near there where I can get it. She won't get anything to me by this Sunday obviously so it wouldn't be until the following week, the next week and maybe the week after. Then I leave for school, and it won't matter." "It took me forever to find it, but I did!" Dawson said loudly as he descended the steps. Joey quickly stuffed the letter into Pacey's hand; then watched as he coolly slipped it into his pocket. Dawson eyed the two of them for a moment before moving to set up the record player. The upbeat music quickly filled the room and soon the three youngsters were dancing the afternoon away. Joey had two dance partners. Pacey was exceptionally good, having learned many steps from his afternoons spent with the Marchbeck sisters. Though Cassie Marchbeck was probably one of the best dancers in Capeside, having won a few competitions with her sister in Boston, Joey Potter was a much better partner. Her hands seemed to fit perfectly into his as he swung her across the dance floor, and the smile on her face, well that was enough to hypnotize any man. She'd definitely put a spell on him. After today, it was clear and obvious to Pacey that he did not simply want to be friends with Joey. He wanted her to be his girl. But several Christmases of candy canes and secondhand toy trucks, he always ended up giving to one of the younger boys, had conditioned him accept reality. The things he wanted did not matter. The things he wanted, he never got. As Dawson was packing up the record player, Pacey noticed Joey's eyes looking pleadingly at him. She was obviously still wondering where exactly they would do this letter exchange. He knew just the place, of course. After all, he'd been a regular churchgoer until he'd been sent to the orphanage. Miss Pinchley tried to force him to go for a few months, but he'd always end up running off. It made him sad and angry to see all of those people and listen to them each week. He couldn't stand the looks of pity or the fact that as low on the totem pole in Capeside he and his family had been before, he'd sunk even lower. He didn't like hating himself more than he already did. So, Miss Pinchley relented, allowing him to stay in the dorms and read. Of course, Pacey hardly ever remained inside. He was after all, an adventurous soul. He needed fresh air. Pacey pulled Joey to the side as soon as Dawson began the trudge upstairs to his room. "There's a hole at the bottom of the old oak behind the church. People stick stuff in there for tradin' and stuff." "Really? I never knew that." "It's easy enough to find. I'll put the letters inside a copy of an old book of mine. You won't be able to miss it. If you want to write her back, just leave your letters there too. I'll come get 'em some time later." Joey grinned in such a way that Pacey thought he might topple over. "Thanks, Pacey." He shrugged, trying to seem unaffected. "Don't mention it." "I better go. I'll talk to you later." She leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Her soft lips sent an unfamiliar and all-together much too pleasant sensation through his body. "Su-sure thing," he choked out. He was done for. Joey smiled bashfully, feeling the heat rising up her neck before shaking her head clear. She looked quickly away from Pacey then called up the stairs. "Bye Dawson." Dawson, already making his way down the steps, waved once and gave her a small smile. "See you tomorrow, Joey." Tomorrow? Did they see each other every day, Pacey wondered. Of course they did. They were neighbors. He wasn't the type of guy her grandmother wanted her to avoid. He was perfect - the golden boy, the exact opposite of Pacey J. Witter. ********** Pacey leaned comfortably against Old Leo, reveling in the quiet peace of Sunday morning. It was unusually cool for early September; it was almost soothing. He listened to the soft wind rustling through the leaves. The world as he otherwise knew it ceased to exist here. He loved this place. After everything that happened, it still felt like home to him. Sundays were usually his only time spent beneath the old tree's branches, and even that was cut short when the weather got bad. He sighed, shutting his eyes. Every year, they days went by faster and faster. Summer would be over in a few weeks. She would be gone then - the first day of autumn, that was when she said she would go. But for right now, she needed him. Him. Joey Potter needed Pacey Witter. He was happy he could do something for her. He had a week before their little mission began. To Pacey, that seemed much too long a time to wait. He wanted contact with her, even if it wasn't person to person. He wouldn't be able to see her face or stand before her, hoping for another chaste kiss on the cheek after they parted. But at least it would be something. An urge to see her right then and there grew inside of him. He knew where she was. What would the harm be in just going over there for a few minutes? The Capesiders would spill out onto the adjoining lawn of the church for the last of the summer picnics. The boys from Miss Pinchley's would be there, suited up and hair cow-licked. The old mayor and his wife would hold court in the middle of the spacious lawn that was bordered by the very woods Pacey took refuge. And Josephine Potter, along with the judge and his wife, would be there, standing primly, talking to another girl her age or hanging close to Dawson Leery. Years ago, he would wander close to the wood's edge and watch them, feeling like an outsider in his own town. Eventually he stopped going, content to be alone for a few hours and think of better days. Today, however, he had the urge to revisit his old peeping spot. After all, he had a very good reason. Pacey turned up behind a tall bush on the perimeter of the church lawn just in time to see the orphan boys burst out of the church doors and begin tossing a baseball - property of Johnny Tevis, no doubt. He always came prepared for a good time. Pacey watched as Pete and Buzz tackled each other for a chance at the ball. The rest of the congregation filed out slowly. Miss Pinchley spoke to the Reverend Meyer as always as his wife Anna stood nearby, holding a small baby Pacey had not known about. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Leery, Dawson, Judge Potter, his wife, but where was Joey? It wasn't long before the willowy young beauty emerged from behind the crowd alone. Her family and friends had gathered just beyond the front steps, having yet to make it to the picnic area. He expected Joey to stop there and wait for them, but instead she began walking - past the Reverend and Miss Pinchley, past the orphans. And suddenly, there she was, not three feet away from him. Pacey couldn't believe the luck. Had she seen him over here hiding? Nothing on her face indicated that she had. In fact, she looked sad and distant, and he couldn't stand it. So, gathering up his courage and being as discreet as he could possibly be, Pacey began whispering her name. "Joey!" A perplexing expression replaced the sad one. She looked as though she thought she might be hearing things. Pacey looked around to make sure no one else could hear and he tried again. "Joey! It's me Pacey." At that, her eyes snapped wide, and she turned in the direction she had heard the voice. She squinted her eyes at the bush where Pacey was still hidden. "Pacey is that you?" she asked cautiously. "Yeah. I'm back here." Joey began to walk toward him. "No. Make sure no one sees you." Joey stopped to take in her surroundings. It was usual for her grandmother to ignore her during church time. Joey normally spoke with Dawson, her grandfather, or Jennifer Lindley, who was in Europe with her parents for the month. Dawson had gotten into a conversation with her grandfather that she really didn't feel like joining today. She hadn't really felt like doing much lately. Her mind was occupied with other things, one of which was standing right behind this very tall green bush. Quickly, she scurried behind the bush before anyone had seen her. "Pacey, what are you doing? Bessie couldn't have possibly sent a letter because you couldn't have had time to mail the one I gave you." "Calm down, Joey. I just… I mean…" "What is it?" Wringing his hands together, Pacey attempted to find a good explanation. He let out a sputtering breath; all he could come up with was the truth. "I wanted to see you, I guess." "Oh." Silence passed between the two of them. Joey fidgeted with her hands, folding them and unfolding them. Pacey's tongue was in knots, and he wanted to kick himself. He had time alone with her, even if it was just for a few minutes. Why did he have to clam up like an idiot? It was Joey who finally broke the silence. "So, why is it you don't come to church?" Pacey shrugged. Not a good question. "It's kind of personal." "Oh," she said, looking a little hurt by his response. "I just…" he wanted to explain it to her, but he really didn't know how to. He liked her and everything, but he had a hard time trusting just anyone with his feelings. "It's okay," she started. "You don't have to tell me." Pacey smiled. "So, um, did you figure out what tree I was talking about?" "I think I know, but I'm not sure." Pacey stepped closer to her, causing her to sharply inhale. He smiled down at her, feeling an indescribable heat generating between them. She smelled incredible. Like the jasmine Miss Pinchley kept and like something else he could not describe. He cleared his throat, in an attempt to refocus and pointed over her shoulder. "It's that one, see just behind the church." Joey nodded as her eyes followed his finger. "Thanks for doing this for me," she said softly. ******** A week later, Joey sat behind that very tree, staring toward the bushes beyond the lawn with Bessie's letter in her pocket, wishing for a sign of Pacey. Before she'd even gone to check the massive tree trunk, she went and looked behind the bush where Pacey had been the week before, but he wasn't there. She laughed at the book he'd chosen to leave the letter in. Grimm's fairytales. He didn't strike her as the type to have such a book. It was an old worn copy. Maybe he'd had it since he was a baby. But why would he leave something like that just lying there? She stuck another letter for Bessie inside of the book, hoping he would get it. It bothered her just a bit that her letter would not be a reply to the one she had just received, that would have to wait another week. Then she'd found a note stuffed behind another page in the book. It read, 'Hi, Joey. - Pacey.' She folded the tiny slip of paper neatly and stuffed in her dress pocket with a sigh. Why couldn't he have just come like before? It was sweet of him to help her, it really was, but…. "It's time to go, Josephine," her grandmother's voice floated into her reverie, dissolving it quickly. "Yes, grandmother." That afternoon, Joey sat across from her grandparents at the customarily large Sunday lunch, a smaller meal would be saved for after dark. She barely touched any of her food, but fortunately no one seemed to notice. It was probably because her grandmother was trying to figure out how to drop her latest bomb on the young girl. When she finally did, Joey felt ready to throw a trantrum. "Mrs. Olsen? Why can't I just stay with the Leerys' or Mrs. Ryan? It's only for the night." "Mrs. Ryan is entirely too busy with her husband." Joey's face fell as she remembered Jennifer telling her about her grandfather's illness. "What about the Leerys' then?" "Impossible." "Why impossible?" "It would be inappropriate. Dawson is a young man. You are a young lady. You are no longer children, Josephine." Joey turned to her grandfather with pleading eyes. They'd announced they would be going to Boston next Saturday for a wedding. She was surprised her grandmother did not want her to come, but Elizabeth Potter had very strange ideas about what should and should not be done. Staying with Mrs. Olsen and that stuck up daughter of hers Nelly was the last thing Joey wanted to do. Her grandfather simply smiled. "It will just be for the day, my love. We'll be back soon enough." Joey frowned. Couldn't he be more helpful? He knew what loathsome creatures the Olsens were. "It will be better than going with us, dear. Believe me." Her grandfather audibly grumbled then took a sip of iced tea. This was maddening. He was obviously being forced to go somewhere he didn't want to out of some sort of silly rule of obligation. Why did people have to do such things? Joey held no further argument, knowing the subject was closed. She really did not feel up to one of the headaches that usually followed the verbal tennis matches with her grandmother. Suddenly, an idea came to Joey. If she had to stay with that hag of a woman and her daughter, why not make the most of it? But should she? Wouldn't she get caught? Swallowing every ounce of anxious doubt, Joey made up her mind quickly. She would do it. "Grandfather. I left my book at the picnic. Would you mind taking me to get it?" she asked suddenly, hoping her grandmother didn't see right through her ulterior motive. "What book?" her grandmother asked sharply. "My music book," Joey replied smoothly. "I brought it to show Jennifer, but I'd forgotten she'd left for Europe." "She's only been gone for two weeks, Josephine. Honestly, I hope you pull your head out of the clouds before you get to Miss Porters and embarrass your grandfather and me." Joey felt no annoyance at all by her grandmother's comment. She was too excited about the prospect of this new plan. Plans. She seemed to full of them these days. She couldn't help it. Pacey made her feel like she could do anything. "Of course, I'll take you Joey, dear." "See that you hurry straight back." Joey nodded before getting up and rushing upstairs, shouting along the way, "I'll be right down, grandfather." "That girl!" she heard her grandmother saying. She was sure her grandfather was smiling in response. He always said that what he liked most about her was her spirit. She was sure this was one of those occasions he might mention it. Joey whipped out a piece of paper and scribbled a note to Pacey. She hoped he hadn't come back to pick up the letter she'd left for Bessie yet. Joey picked up her feet and hurried down the steps, wondering why it was she was so eagar to sneak off with Pacey Witter. For once, she was going to forget about thinking things to death, like her friend Dawson, and follow her heart. ******** Reading is Righteously Rockin'. Feedback is Funkily Fabulous. Writing is Wonderfully Wicked. I Advocate All of the Above! |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 75 (9/22/03 10:15 am) Reply |
Re: Part VA Ooooooh my goodnes, I'm loving it, loving it, LOVING IT!!! The tension and longing between them is just about killing me! When they were behind the bush and he said he just wanted to see her and they were both so awkward with embarassment, my little old cold heart just went and melted! Now I'm totally intrigued as to what the plan is for when her grandparents are away. I'm guessing she's going to try and sneak away somehow, but can't imagine quite how. You'll just have to hurry back and update again soon to put me out of my misery!
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 215 (10/1/03 9:58 pm) Reply |
VB For my Suzy! Hi, my little Brit! This is a long one! So, grab some goodies. Forget Me Not [/center]Book I: ************************* Her stomach was in knots. Would he come? Would they get caught if he did? “Josephine, don’t dawdle.” Joey hurried to catch up with her grandmother. She moved her valise from her right hand to her left, unusually tired from the walk near the center of town where the Potters lived to the coastline of Capeside where the Olsens dwelled. The scorching days of September returned yesterday, and everyone was miserable. “I don’t know why they couldn’t have this wedding in June like normal people,” Elizabeth Potter complained as she and Joey made their way up the walk of the Widow Olsen’s foreboding seaside villa. It was a haunting pale blue that looked more like gray. Trees hung about the front of the house, casting a gloomy spell despite the sun-drenched morning. Her grandmother stopped and turned to Joey as they reached the top of the landing. “Now, Josephine, I want you to be on your best behavior.” Joey sighed, sounding very put out with the prospect. “Yes, grandmother.” “Don’t give me that look, young lady. I’ve given strict instructions to Mrs. Olsen. You are not to have any visitors.” Joey nodded unnecessarily. “I know. Not even Dawson.” “You are to practice piano at three o’clock today and tomorrow.” “Why? I haven’t been practicing all summer.” “You should polish yourself for Miss Porters. Your playing is beautiful, I must admit, but it could be better.” Joey knew this was some feeble attempt to show off what her grandmother likely saw as her one positive attribute to Mrs. Olsen. “Fine,” Joey grumbled, determined to wear her frown for as long as she possibly could before she had to pretend to smile for Mrs. Olsen. “Your grandfather and I will be back tomorrow evening,” said her grandmother. “And be nice to Nelly.” “Nice? To her? You can’t be serious.” “She’s a lovely girl. I don’t know why the two of you can’t be friends.” Joey snorted. “You are a beautiful young girl, Josephine. You would do right to follow the example of someone as poised and well-mannered as Nelly.” “Sure,” said Joey tiredly, every ounce of her tone filled with sarcasm. “You will be nice and if I hear of anything I don’t like, you may just have to go straight home after to church next Sunday.” “But that’s my last Sunday! That’s the day of the jamboree! Dawson will-" “If it means that much to you, then you will behave, correct?” “Yes, ma’am.” Her grandmother gripped the pewter doorknocker and whacked it swiftly against its strike plate. A round middle-aged woman with pre-maturely gray hair held tight in a bun appeared at the door. Her mouth turned up into a sweetly sour smile as she greeted Joey and Mrs. Potter. “Won’t you come in?” “I can't thank you enough for allowing Josephine to stay.” The inside of the house was like a museum, much more so than the Potters’ home. The floors were polished just so and the furniture looked virtually untouched. “It’s no worry at all, “Mrs. Olsen was saying. She took Joey’s bag from her then handed it to the silent dark-haired maid who Joey had only just noticed. She seemed to have been hiding behind a rather tall houseplant for fear of stepping out of place. “Thank you, Virginia.” The girl nodded once and now stayed quietly at the older woman’s side. “Nelly, dear,” said Mrs. Olsen as her young blonde daughter appeared in the room with a towel over one arm and a wicker basket on the other. “I’m leaving, mother,” said Nelly, kissing her cheek. “I know, but say hello to Josephine and Mrs. Potter.” “Hello, Mrs. Potter. You’re looking very lovely today.” Joey’s grandmother smiled then raised her eyebrows pointedly at Joey, obviously indicating that she approved of Nelly’s phony behavior. “Where are you off to, dear?” asked Mrs. Potter, focusing her attention on Nelly again. “The yacht club.” Nelly turned to Joey with a forced smile that oddly resembled her mother’s. “I’m sorry you can’t come, Joey, dear. The other kids would love to see you,” Nelly sneered. “I suppose you’re just too young to be allowed out without a grown-up.” “That is enough, Nelly,” said her mother, not sounding at all reprimanding. Nelly shrugged a carefree shoulder. “Well, goodbye all. It was lovely seeing you, Mrs. Potter. Bye-bye, Joey.” She bounded out of the front door. Joey gritted her teeth and felt ready to blow. That girl was a first class pill who needed very desperately beaten to a pulp. And what annoyed Joey even more was that she was jealous of her. Why did someone as awful as Nelly Olsen get to roam free while she was stuck inside all summer? And now not only was she stuck inside, she was stuck inside with Mrs. Olsen! Pacey just had to come tonight. He just had to. ******************* Fortunately, Pacey didn't have much of a problem sneaking out that night. Lights went out at 9:30. He told a few of the boys about his plans to leave, but had not gone so far as to them where he was going. They didn't ask too many questions, but he could tell their curiosities were peaked. He would have to think of a good story to tell them, a story that went as far away from the truth as possible. They promised they'd keep watch for him. He promised them a reward in return - gum and cigarettes, maybe a baseball card. He had to hold back from whistling as he walked through town. Only an old man and his dog spotted him, neither seemed to care. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, he turned down the dark road where he knew he'd find the Olsen villa. It seemed fitting that her grandmother chose a woman as vile as Widow Olsen to watch over Joey. The widow was stiff and ugly and old, the exact opposite of his newfound friend. Friend. Was she even that to him yet? He stopped before the home he knew to belong to the widow and her daughter. He looked around for any sign of her but could not find one. He wasn't sure if he was early or late. He didn't carry a watch of any kind. He hoped she hadn't been caught. Then he saw her and his heart nearly stopped. She stepped gracefully from beneath the shadowy cocoon of the Olsen villa. Part of her hair was pinned back but most of it fell in long loose curls over her shoulders. She wore light-colored summer dress that matched the fashion of the day, plain perhaps on some girls, but somehow elegant on her, even with the pair of oxfords she wore. Her face looked apprehensive as she looked around, still oblivious to his presence. Pacey thought about pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t in the middle of a dream. She was so beautiful. And the note she left, the last words of it reading, 'I’ll be outside at 10 o’clock. I hope you can come,' sent shivers up his spine. He whistled in order to catch her attention. Her face split into a grin as she spotted him. If Pacey hadn’t been so far from her at the moment, he would have sworn he saw her blush. Slowly they walked toward each other, meeting on the knoll of grass right beneath an old poplar tree. Pacey’s throat constricted. Joey blinked slowly and smiled softly. At that moment, the world seemed to drop away. Finally, Joey cleared her throat softly and spoke, “Hi.” “Hi.” Pacey remembered where it was they were standing, not a good place to talk in hushed whispers. That Olsen woman wasn’t exactly the kindest lady in town. She would surely rat him out and have him arrested for trespassing if she found him there. But before he could say anything, he felt Joey’s hand slipping into his and pulling him toward the dark street. “Where are we going?” Pacey asked when they’d finally gained enough distance from the Olsens and Joey had unfortunately let go of his hand. “I’m not sure.” “What about the old lighthouse?” he suggested. “I thought of that, but-“ “But what?” Joey shook her head and smiled. “Nothing. Let’s just go there.” They walked together in silence, their legs hurrying across the concrete sidewalk, their bodies as close to the shadows as they could remain. They did not have to go into to town for the lighthouse was just down the road, but they had to be safe, just in case. When they reached the small path that lead to the strong thin building that sat upon a grassy peak, Joey stopped abruptly. Pacey walked a few paces up the dirt path before noticing Joey was no longer beside him. He turned around to see her looking up at the building with an odd sort of look on her face. “What’s the matter?” Joey looked down, and without any notice at all, began laughing… hard. Pacey was now extremely perplexed. “What’s so funny?” he asked, watching her clutch her sides and fight to remain standing. “I just…” Joey could not quell the giggles. “Joey?” He half wanted laugh along with her, and half felt a little hurt at the fact she might just be laughing at him for choosing to bring her here. After few drawn out seconds, Joey finally sobered, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Pacey.” "No need to be sorry. Just tell me what was so damn funny." "You shouldn’t swear like that Pacey, really, it’s-" “Stop, right there, Miss Potter. I don't need a lecture from you,” he snapped rather harshly. Joey startled, slightly taken aback. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just think it’s rude for you to talk like that. It’s unbecoming." “Oh, is it? Well, in case you haven’t forgotten, Miss Potter,” he spit out her name in as harsh a tone as he could muster, “I am what you would call unbecoming.” He couldn’t help it. He was suddenly so angry with her. First she laughed at him and now she thought he was …. “You are not!” She cut right through his thoughts, fisting her hands together, fighting the urge to stomp her foot like a petulant child. Her raised voiced, caused Pacey to counter gruffly. "I’m not? Why is it we have to sneak around just to be together? And what are we doing here in the middle of the night anyway?" "I want to be your friend, Pacey, but my grandmother-" "I don’t want to talk about her," he interrupted swiftly. "I want to talk about this. Us. What are we doing here, Potter?" "I just…" Her chest heaved, and she closed her eyes. She seemed to be struggling over something. Pacey immediately softened his voice. “You just what?” She looked as lost and confused as he felt. "I don’t know why, Pacey. I don’t know why. I’m only fifteen. I don’t have many friends. I just get so lonely." She looked away from him, cheeks tinged, embarrassed by her admission. But Pacey understood. Loneliness consumed him ninety percent of the time. He often wondered why he felt so alone with so many people around him, people whose lives were not so different than his. But then people treated him differently than they did the other orphans – where most of the boys remained nameless, faceless to the majority of the townsfolk, Pacey served as a constant reminder of the tragedy that befell his father. The boys at the home looked up to him as some sort of a hero for god knew what reason. Even Miss Pinchley seemed to put him on a sort of pedestal, rarely reprimanding him for staying out when he shouldn't, trusting him with her bills and business affairs. All of this made Pacey feel isolated and like the girl in front of him just admitted, so lonely. He watched her - her head slightly bowed as she looked half over her shoulder, staring at nothing at all – and suddenly he was overpowered with a need to protect her, to erase her loneliness. Taking in a gulp of fresh summer air to sooth his suddenly flip-flopping stomach, Pacey slowly and shakily slipped his hand in hers. He held tight as he heard Joey's breath hitch ever so slightly at the contact and look into his eyes questioningly. He offered her a soft reassuring smile. His heart lifted as Joey relaxed her hand and returned his smile. “Come on," he urged gently, "there’s a bench up top. Let’s sit." She nodded, following close behind, her hand still in his. They sat on the bench together a few inches apart. To Pacey's disappointment, Joey settled her hands in her lap. He rested his hands on his knees, rubbing them back and forth, trying to ignore the need to touch her again. A few moments passed quietly, wind breezily and warmly dancing across their skin. "It's really beautiful out here at night," whispered Joey. "So," Pacey paused to clear his throat - the break in the silence was a little unnerving. Now he had to think of something to say. "Um, what was so funny back there?" "You're just dying to know, aren't you?" Joey teased with an easy smirk on her lips. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Pacey shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Maybe I won't," Joey teased back playfully. "Well, you-" "Thanks." Joey cut him off before he could go any further; she wasn't really ready to tell him why she'd been laughing. It was a little embarrassing and she already felt embarrassed from what she admitted to him earlier. "For what?" "For helping me with Bessie's letters and everything," she finished. "I like doing it," he said suddenly reminded of what he had in his pocket. "I nearly forgot." He pulled out Bessie's last letter. He'd received it just yesterday. Joey accepted it with a small smile and stuffed it into her pocket. "You should see Pinchley's face when I get the letters," Pacey continued. "'Who is this Miss Elizabeth Bell, Pacey?'" he imitated, raising his voice to sound like a haughty old woman who'd just been pinched. Joey giggled a bit. "At least she was smart enough to use another last name; I noticed, and she changed her handwriting a little on the outside of the envelope." "So that's where you get it then?" "Get what?" "Your craftiness." Joey shrugged. "I wouldn't call myself crafty. Maybe just… brilliant?" "Oh, well, we are modest, aren't we?" Joey pinched her eyes shut and stuck out her tongue. She looked very much surprised when she looked in front of her again and found Pacey sitting more than a few inches closer than he had been before. "You know, you were right." She scrunched up her nose. "About what?" "It is beautiful out here," he muttered, studying her face. Joey closed her eyes just as she felt him lean forward. Was he going to kiss her? She'd never been kissed before, at least not by someone who made her feel like this. But instead of the earth-shattering kiss on the lips she expected, she felt the soft pressure of his mouth on her forehead. Warmth spread throughout her body as contact was made and she whimpered with loss as he moved away. His warm breath tickled her skin before his lips brushed against the same spot again. He lifted his hand to her cheek, letting his thumb flick gently behind her ear. Then ever so slowly, he placed a kiss on her cheek. His hand slipped beneath her chin as he moved his face away from hers. His eyes were closed. She could hear him taking short shallow breaths. He looked scared. "Pacey," she spoke softly, and in an shockingly freedom filling moment of inhibition, she, Josephine Potter, kissed Pacey Witter. It was chaste at first as she gently brushed her mouth against his. But then she needed more. She pressed herself closer to him, deepening their gentle contact, heart thudding almost painfully in her chest. She placed her on Pacey's thin cotton shirt and discovered that his heart was on parade too. His hand moved up to cover her own, causing little waves of shock to sizzle through her body. Joey sighed into his mouth, knowing that this was as close to heaven as she might ever get. Slowly, they parted, sucking in a few sobering breaths of air to calm their shaky emotions. Afterwards, they spoke nothing of the kiss. Instead, they sat there, fingers entwined, staring out over the black waters of the warm night, speaking softly, telling stories, revealing secrets, getting to know one another, and most of all falling in love for the first time in their young lives. As Pacey walked Joey back to the Olsen's, his mind drifted to Old Leo. Had this meeting taken place during day light hours, he would have surely shared his sanctuary with her. He told her a little bit about it as they talked, mentioning that he had a place where he went to think and be with himself. She smiled and nodded empathetically. It seemed that she too had a place all her own she liked to go to in the Judge's house. He thought of the ring he'd found in that place, the band with its pattern twisting together, never-ending. He'd always wondered why he kept that ring so long ago, but now he knew. It was for her. It had to be for her. When they finally reached the end of their journey, Pacey wasn't quite ready to leave. He wasn't sure how well he'd even sleep for the remaining hours of the night in that stuffy dormitory, knowing it would be more than a week before he would see her again. "So, you never did tell me what made you laugh like that back there?" "Maybe I was laughing at your goofy looking mug," she teased, smirking all the while. "Still trying to dodge the question, hmm?" "Well, it's just so silly." "Tell me!" "No." "Come on, don't make me unleash the tickle machine." Pacey raised his hands in the air and wiggled his fingers teasingly. "You wouldn't." He smiled toothily and slowly moved toward her. "Try me." Joey held up her hands before he could go any further. "Okay. Okay." She playfully swatted him on the arm. "It was, well, my sister used to tell me it was haunted that's all." "You mean the lighthouse keeper and his wife?" Joey nodded. "They died in that hurricane, in the tower of the lighthouse. They'd only just been married." "But, Joey, it's not haunted." "I know it's not." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "But I used to think so. I started laughing because I'd almost forgotten that I didn't believe it any more." Pacey grinned, his eyes sparkling, as he looked down at her. "Are you sure you don't believe any more?" "I'm sure," she said softly, before moving slightly up on her tip-toes to kiss him for the second time that night. "Don't worry about Bessie's letters. I'll send her one when I… well, in a couple of weeks." Pacey knew just what she meant, and exactly why she did not want to speak the words aloud. She was leaving. She was leaving all too soon. He looked at her. She was smiling at him. She gave him another peck, this time, to Pacey's slight disappointment, on the cheek. "See you at the jamboree next Sunday." "Promise?" "I promise." "But what about-" Before he could finish his sentence, she was scurrying up the Olsen's expansive lawn and in no time had left his sight. They'd agreed to meet at the annual jamboree a week from Sunday, which would take place on the very lawn the church picnics were held. It was traditionally the event that ended summer for most Capesiders and was usually jam-packed. Joey assured him that her grandparents rarely left their spot under the minister's tent, where they would sit socializing for hours. She said it would be easiest if they met behind the same tall bush Pacey had been hiding behind those weeks before. He agreed, of course, not wanting to miss what might be his last chance to see her before she left for school. He just wished that this night did not have to end so quickly. Sighing, Pacey looked up at the old house and could have sworn he saw a curtain swish from the top floor. He studied it more closely. It looked as still as the rest of the old sea-side home. His eyes were obviously playing tricks on him. Joey pushed the screen door to the Olsen's kitchen open, cursing herself inwardly as it began to squeak. She paused before she opened the second to take off her shoes. She quickly pushed inside, thankfully making less noise with the second door. Carefully, she clicked the door shut. Suddenly, the kitchen was flooded with light. "Just like your sister. I should have known." The middle-aged woman stood there all tied up in her too thick for the season robe, hair stuffed into a cap on top of her head, arms folded, nostrils flared, cheeks flushed. She looked like a bull ready to attack his fighter's red cape. "Mrs. Olsen!" "Shutup, you stupid girl. Go straight to bed. I'll have to figure out what to tell your grandmother about you later. I knew I shouldn't have allowed her to dump you off with us." Joey choked back a sob. "Please, don't tell my grandmother. She won't understand. I didn't do anything wrong." "Did you think you wouldn't be caught? Did you think I was a fool?" "No, I-" "Upstairs, right now. You've embarrassed your poor grandparents enough for one night." Biting her lip and nodding, Joey fled the room, and went upstairs, hating herself for having been so stupid, and hating both Mrs. Olsen and her grandmother for not understanding at all. All she wanted was to be free. Why couldn't they just let her? ********** That next Sunday, he waited and waited for her, but she never came. He left with a heavy heart, clutching the tiny ring that sat in his pocket. He wanted to give it to her that day. He couldn't explain why, it just felt right. As he walked slowly through the town, he thought of going to Old Leo, reveling in the comfort of the familiar place. Maybe he'd visit the Marchbeck sisters. He'd seen them at the jamboree, skirts high and knees twisting. They probably had their fill of company for the evening. No, instead, he went home. He pulled back the old gate, absently thinking that it needed to be fixed, and walked up the pathway to the front of his home, the home for kids who had no homes. Most of the boys had already returned from the jamboree, stuffed with cotton candy and hot dogs. Some sat in the large common area down stairs playing checkers or cards. Others continued to etch out their remaining exertion outdoors on the swings or elsewhere. Pacey went up to his room. He found Buzz there with Pete, laughing madly over some girlie magazine. He threw them out immediately, the rats, and sat down on his bed. He couldn't remember ever feeling this lost or sad. With all that had happened in his life, he was sure he had felt much worse, much more frustrated, much angrier, but this was different, the feelings were different. They were fresh and all too consuming. Later that night, the boys he roomed with him filed into the dormitory. He heard them talking to him. He heard himself grunt a reply here and there, but he was barely conscious of it. It wasn't long before the night engulfed him, and he fell into a Josephine Potter-filled slumber. It was sweet and innocent. It was perfect. He was where he belonged. But then the morning came with more late summer rain, an emptiness still claiming his heart. He missed breakfast, which was why he assumed Miss Pinchley was wrapping on the doorframe of the opened door of his room. "Care to tell me what is going on, Pacey?" He sat slumped against his pillow, shuffling through the contents of his box. He shrugged his shoulders in response to Miss Pinchley's question. "I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you." The woman, he'd once commonly referred to as Old Pinch Face, entered the room and stood at the foot of his bed. "Pacey, I think I know what this is about." Pacey's eyes grew wide with shock for a moment, but he chose to remain in his slumped position. "But, I'm not going to press this. What I am going to tell you is you cannot hide away all of your days in this room or in this building." Miss Pinchley paused for a moment, seeming to struggle over whatever it was she wanted to say next. "Sit up, Pacey." Pacey frowned but complied, keeping the box firmly in his lap, his hand on a particular object he was not ready to let go of. Miss Pinchley sat beside him, lending him as motherly of a smile as she could convey on her worn and tired face. "You're a young man now, Pacey. One day, you're going to move on. You've got to be strong for that. Not to say, I wouldn't love to keep you around here forever. Actually, if you asked me twice, I would most likely let you stay forever. You're like a breath of fresh air in this old place. The boys respect you, look up to you. But there is more out there for you, a life outside of here. You still have a year or so before all of this happens, Pacey, but you need to be prepared. You're not the same little boy who came here four years ago." Pacey nodded, taking in all that she'd said. "So, you want me to go?" "Not now, but one day, I think you'll want that." Pacey pulled the ring from the box and fingered it absently. "Pacey, where did you get that?" "I found it when I first came here. In the woods somewhere." "May I?" Miss Pinchley held out her hand, prepared to be very delicate with the object that seemed to mean so much to the young man beside her. Pacey placed the ring into her palm and watched her examine it. It was nearly a minute later before she spoke again, asking, "Do you know what this is?" Pacey shrugged, trying to hide his suddenly piqued curiosity. "Looks like a ring to me." Miss Pinchley nodded. "It is a ring at that. But what it also is, is a Celtic knot. My family collected these once upon a time, but I haven't seen one like this since before I moved to Capeside." She turned the ring over in her hand, touching the pattern carefully. "This knot in particular is called Josephine's knot. It was always a favorite of mine." Pacey drew in a sharp breath, felt his heartbeat triple, then his throat go dry. Had she just said? "Josephine's knot?" he barely muttered the question. Miss Pinchley had apparently heard him for she nodded once and began to tell him more. "The Emperor Napoleon employed many Irish soldiers called The Wild Geese. His wife, the Empress Josephine, was a favorite of the men, so they named this special knot for her, even though the design was used a thousand years earlier." She lifted the ring up to point out its intricate pattern. "Josephine’s knot is a lover’s knot. See how it intertwines the separate links to make the pattern a whole?" Pacey answered with a slow nod and she went on. "It is meant to be given to someone you truly love, especially when one may be separated from the other. It's said to hold love together and serve as a reminder of constancy. It is also given in marriage or engagement or simply as a promise. In essence, it simply embodies love that will last forever." She placed the ring back into Pacey's palm and stood up. "Don't give your heart away too quickly, Pacey. You may be a young man now, but you still have a lot of growing to do." With that, Miss Pinchley left Pacey alone with his thoughts. ************* Alone in another part of town, where the rain continued to fall, sat a girl feeling not so different than Pacey Witter did. It was quite possible she felt worse because she'd been living in heartache for over a week. Joey Potter was confined to the house, unable to see her best friend, Dawson, and worst of all, unable to attend the Capeside Jamboree. She hadn't missed it in as a long as she could remember. Even the year her mother died, her grandfather made sure she went and had a good time. And now, when Pacey had been there, waiting to see her one last time before she went away, she'd missed it. She wasn't sure if he understood. What if he thought she didn't want to see him any more? She just had to explain it to him. "Josephine, time for lunch, dear!" Grandpa. Joey thought he quite possibly the only person on this planet who didn't hate her fiercely at the moment. Her grandmother barely spoke to her. Dawson, who'd heard what had happened from his mother, made no attempt to see her. She had a feeling that his staying away had nothing to do with her grandmother disallowing it. Then there was Pacey. How could he not hate her now? Joey edged herself off of the attic windowsill and ventured downstairs. Tomorrow would be her last night in Capeside. How was she supposed to leave without explaining things to Pacey? She entered the dining room, feeling as woebegone and helpless as she had all week. But when she looked up, her spirits rose because, to her shock, the Potters had two guests for lunch that day. "Invited Jennifer and Mrs. Ryan over during my walk this morning," said the judge, answering Joey's confused but happy expression. Mrs. Potter grumbled for a moment then plastered a false smile onto her face. "Come in and sit down, Josephine. You shouldn't keep our guests waiting." Joey, being too excited to see her friend, forgot to be irritated with her grandmother's snippy attitude, greeted Mrs. Ryan politely then slid into the seat next to Jennifer. "How was Europe, Jen?" asked Joey, using the nickname Jennifer preferred her contemporaries use. Jennifer said it was modern and forward thinking, although she rarely went by it formally. 'All in good time.' If Joey's grandmother knew about the things Jennifer spoke to Joey about, she would have never allowed the girl through the front door. Sometimes Joey thought she might prefer Jennifer to Dawson as her sole confidant. She did think a lot like she did, except, well, she seemed sort of fearless, more grown up than Joey felt. "It's a little restless over there these days," Jennifer said in response to Joey's question as she pushed a blond wisp back into place behind her ear. "Nonsense," said Mrs. Potter. "Europe is lovely." Jennifer frowned for a moment, seeming to force herself to bite her tongue. "Yes, well, it is very beautiful." Then she muttered so that only Joey could hear, "for the time being." Joey's eyebrows shot up and felt a lump rise in her throat. Bessie was in Europe. Jennifer seemed to notice her panicked expression so she placed a hand on her arm. "They won't get France, especially Paris," she whispered. Joey nodded, feeling only slightly reassured. She used to read the newspaper with her grandfather in the mornings, but lately she'd been a little preoccupied. "Grandpa, do you mind if Jennifer stays after lunch?" "Josephine, you are still not allowed any guests. Jennifer and Mrs. Ryan are our guests, not yours," Mrs. Potter answered before her husband could say a word. "It's her last day, Elizabeth. Jennifer is a nice sensible girl," said the judge, knowing that his wife would not refute such a statement in front of Mrs. Ryan. "If it's all right with Mrs. Ryan," Mrs. Potter said with enormous strain in her voice. "I think it's a lovely idea. Jennifer needs to be around someone her own age after that long trip with her parents." "Splendid!" replied the judge, and the matter was settled. Joey felt like kissing her grandfather right then and there. She knew he'd sacrificed a night of peace and quiet for undermining Joey's grandmother's authority over her. The child is my responsibility, she would begin primly, marching up and down the drawing room as her grandfather tried to read peacefully. She would then go down a long list of reasons why young ladies must be raised by a proper matriarch and not a stodgy old judge. Poor grandfather. Joey wondered just what he ever saw in her when they were young. She couldn't have always been that way. Then she remembered her father, Mike. Perhaps he was the one who'd poisoned her grandmother's nature; maybe her disappointment in him made her the way she was. She was sure that must have been the case. What she wasn't sure of was why she had to suffer. The afternoon with Jennifer proved to be interesting to say the least. The rain suddenly dried up, and after the first filling meal Joey had in days, the two girls went up to her attic to talk and play records with little protest from the adults. After Jennifer insisted on improving Joey's very lacking jitterbug skills, the girls sank onto the floor, laughing. They fell into an easy conversation about Europe and Bessie, Joey's new school and Jennifer's new wardrobe. When Jennifer shifted the subject to boys, Joey tensed a bit. Joey's friend was no fool; she easily read Joey's guilty expression without a second glance. "All right sunshine, out with it," she said, eyebrows raised expectantly. Joey, wanting to actually get it off of her chest, let the words tumble out of her mouth almost without pause. She went into express detail, outlining everything from the time she'd bumped into Pacey at the post office to their two memorable kisses, she actually initiated herself, much to Jennifer's great pride, to the horrible ache that was left in her heart for not being able to go to him last Sunday. Of course, Jennifer Lindley was not one to take untoward adversity lying down, especially where matters of the heart were concerned. She had a plan. Unfortunately, Joey had been scared senseless by her dear and loving grandmother Potter. "We have to do this," Jennifer insisted. "I don't know, Jen. I mean; it'll be harder to sneak out of here. The house isn't as big as the Olsens." "It's big enough. You live with two old people. How hard could it be?" "Very hard. My grandmother is nuts or haven't you noticed?" "Look, you're leaving for school tomorrow anyway. She can't punish you any more after that." "She could call the school and have them be especially evil to me." Jennifer shook her head. "No. Wouldn't do that," she said simply. "Why not?" "Because she'd have to admit her perfect granddaughter was less than perfect. Her sending you away is her way of getting you to reform." "I don't know." "Okay. Answer this one question for me before you make up your mind." Joey nodded slowly, a little afraid of what the question might be. Jennifer seemed hell bent on Joey and Pacey seeing each other. She almost seemed to want it more than Joey did, if that were possible. "How did it feel when you kissed him?" Joey's heart began to throb in her ears; her breathing shallowed a bit. Then her mouth crept into a lopsided grin. "Amazing." Jennifer burst out laughing. Joey frowned before picking up a small pillow from the windowsill and tossing it at her friend. Jennifer partially sobered but continued to smile at Joey. "You should have seen your face. You're a gonner." Joey blushed. "This also means that you have to go, you know," said Jennifer firmly. "I know," sighed Joey. "So, let's go over this again. You sneak over to my house when the coast is clear." "If I can call you first, I'll try." "Okay, but it's not necessary. I'll tell Grams I want to sit up and read in the living room. I'll be able to see you from the window. She won't care," said Jennifer. "I'll meet you outside and walk with you to the boy's home." "But what happens when we get there?" "Well, I know that the older boys rooms are in the back of the house, so that might be tricky." "How do you know that, anyway?" Jennifer shrugged. "I just do." "Hmm, well, I don't see how we are going to even attract his attention." "We just have to attract someone in his room and not wake up any of the caretakers," said Jennifer. Joey stood up and began pacing about the room. Her stomach was churning. Would this work? Could she get away with it? Would she just get Pacey in trouble? Would he even want to see her? He had to see her. She wouldn't be back in Capeside for months. She had to explain things to him now. Joey turned to Jennifer, her mind completely made up. "I'll be at your house after everyone's asleep," she said firmly. Her grandmother planned to have the household in bed relatively early that night, so they could rise freshly in the morning, have breakfast, and be in Boston for the noon train. It wouldn't be too hard to slip away. Jennifer grinned approvingly. "You can't fight love, Joey. You just can't." ************ "Jen, if we get caught-" "Shh, I'm throwing pebbles here." The back fence to Miss Pinchley's Home for Boys was surprisingly easy to get over. Joey realized now how Pacey found it so easy to get away all the time. Unfortunately, this did nothing to help her nerves. She was sure they would be caught by some authority figure. That Miss Pinchley woman never looked very nice in church. Her expression was always so sour and stern. Of course, it may have had something to do with the thirty or so boys she had to take care of on a daily basis. "This isn't working," whispered Joey after a few seconds of Jennifer's seemingly futile pebble tossing. Before Joey's friend could answer back, a light flashed on and soon four teenage boys heads were plastered against an upstairs window. The girls thought they heard a whoop as the faces suddenly tumbled out of sight, followed by some sort of commotion. "It looks like their pushing each other," said Jennifer, watching the shadows move from side to side. "We are going to get caught," Joey said through gritted teeth. "Maybe you're right," said Jennifer, starting to look panicked for the first time that night. She glanced up one more time then looked to Joey. "Come on, let's go." Joey swallowed the lump of regret that formed in her throat before nodding and moving to follow Jennifer toward the fence. "Psst! Hey girl," stage whispered a male timber from above. Joey froze. It wasn't Pacey's voice, but that didn't stop her from turning around. She really hadn't been as ready to give up as she'd let on. "Somebody up here seems to know who you are and says he's coming down to meet you, so you better get out front." Without answering Joey rushed passed Jennifer, who'd also stopped to listen to the boy, and began to go over the fence. "Hurry up, Jen." "Calm down, Joey, there's no fire," she hissed before expelling a short chuckle. Both girls climbed the fence with relative ease then came around to the front of the large wooden dwelling. Pacey stood beside the front gate, which had been left open by the two trespassers in their haste to make it into the backyard, wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of old blue long pants. He was the most wonderful thing Joey had ever seen in her life. "You really know how to give a guy a heart attack, Potter," he said, his eyes burning into hers. "Pacey," she whispered. The weight of the past few days instantly lifted from her shoulders. To the surprise of all three present, Joey went straight to Pacey and fell into his arms with a happy sigh. "Joey, are you okay?" Joey squeezed tighter. "I am now." She'd been missing him so much, wanting to see him so badly, afraid she might not see him before she left, that holding on to him seemed to be most natural thing in the world. "What are you doing here?" Joey pulled back, her brow furrowed. "I'm leaving tomorrow." Pacey's arms were still hanging loosely around her, but Joey removed them from her body as if they were burning through the material of her dress. "You're mad at me aren't you?" "What? No." His dissension fell deaf on her ears as she went on, "I understand if you're upset with me, but it wasn't my fault." "What wasn't your fault?" Joey took a deep breath then faced him squarely. "Mrs. Olsen saw me kissing you." Dammit, she hated when she blushed. She cleared her throat and continued, "So, of course, she told my grandmother." "So, that wasn't my imagination," said Pacey. "What?" "I thought I saw someone in the window that night after you left." "I'm sorry I couldn't come. She wouldn't let me." "It's not your fault, but, uh, aren't you afraid you'll get caught again?" "Didn't you know our Joey's a brave soul?" Jennifer piped up for the first time, making her way out from the shadows behind them. "Jen Lindley," she stated, holding out her hand to Pacey. "Pacey Witter," he said as he shook her hand lightly. "I've seen you around before." "Likewise," said Jennifer with a smirk. "You look even better up close, I have to admit." "Jen!" reprimanded Joey. Jennifer shrugged her shoulders airly. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two love birds alone," she said, remembering to keep her voice low. "What? Oh, no way," said Joey, following Jennifer out of the gate, but not before grabbing Pacey's hand to make sure he stayed right along with her. "Pacey, we're walking Jen home, aren't we?" Jen rolled her eyes. "Come on, nothing is going to happen to me." "I know, but I'd much rather walk you to your block at least," Joey continued, following along beside her, Pacey in toe. "Fine, but no coming home before midnight." She winked at Joey and smiled. Joey stuck her tongue out at Jennifer as an answer. It only took them about ten minutes to get back to Jennifer's street. She actually lived a little closer to the orphanage than Joey did. Pacey seemed to get along pretty well with her, although not much talking took place for fear of drawing unwanted attention. After she and Pacey watched Jennifer disappear into her house from the edge of the block, they continued hand in hand down the streets of Capeside. "So, you're not mad at me?" Joey asked after they'd been walking for quite a while. "I have to admit; I was a little upset, but not at you. I thought that maybe you decided you didn't want to see me again. A little voice in the back of my head kept telling me that it was probably something else, but I kept falling back on what I know." "What's that?" she asked, her voice small. "I lose out on everything." "Not this time," she assured him with conviction. It was then that she looked up to take in their surroundings. She could not believe where they had ended up. "Pacey look." The lighthouse. Pacey guffawed. "How did we get here?" Joey offered him a beautiful lop-sided grin. "I don't know. Maybe it was fate." Pacey throat worked over at the sight of it before he spoke with a smile of his own dancing across his face. "I didn't think you were the type to fall for stuff like that fate mumbo jumbo." Joey raised her eyebrows and thrust her chin out proudly. "Well, you learn something new every day, don't ya?" Without warning she broke into a run up the grass-lined hill. "Last one up is a rotten egg!" "Oh no you don't!" Pacey ran after her but only caught her when they'd reached the top. He grabbed her by the waist and quickly turned her in his arms. His heart swelled when she didn't let go. Lowering his forehead to hers, while still trying to catch his breath, he whispered, "gotcha." Joey's arms crept up and around his neck. Her hands dipped into his hair. She felt wanton, just standing there, staring into his eyes, touching him that way. Pacey took the initiative, unable to stand it any longer, and pressed his lips to hers. His feelings for her overwhelmed him. How could he feel this way about just one person? He pulled her closer, burying his hands in her silky dark hair, freeing it from any remnant of style it may have had earlier. He pulled away for a breath of a second, muttering her name as many times as he could before he had to kiss her again. He kissed her thoroughly, frantically, as if his life depended on it. He wrenched his mouth away from hers and began peppering kisses all over her face. "Oh God, Joey. I…." Joey moved his mouth back down to hers, wanting more. Nothing had ever felt so good in her life. They kissed for another few minutes before Pacey pulled away from her completely, breathing ragged, face flushed. "God, Joey, you're so…. I can't even…. I didn't mean to." He stepped away from her, shaking his head. She was not that kind of her. "No, I wanted you to," Joey stepped closer to him, pulling his hands into hers. "That was wonderful, Pacey." Pacey gently pulled one hand away from her and reached into his pocket. "Joey, I…. I have something to give you. That is. I meant to give it to you the other day, but-" "What is it?" she asked, frowning only a little. Pacey couldn't think of anything particularly romantic about the way he was doing this, but it felt right, even after everything Miss Pinchley had told him. He pulled the small ring out of his pocket and held it out to Joey in the palm of his hand. "It's yours. You don't have to wear it or anything. I just wanted you to have it." A barely audible sob shuttered from low in her chest. She covered her mouth for a moment, then slowly reached out to take the ring. "Pacey, I don't know what to say." She carefully held it up in the air, studying its fascinating design. "It's called Josephine's knot. I didn't know that before, but it's perfect right?" Joey tried to slip on the ring, but it was slightly too large. "Well, almost perfect." "Oh." Joey laughed. "No, it's only a little loose. See, I can wear it." She held out her hand so he could see that it wasn't all that loose. "You sure?" he asked, not quite convinced. Joey nodded, putting her arms around him. "I love it. Thank you." They kissed for a few minutes then held each other for a few minutes more. "You want to go inside?" Pacey asked after a while, Joey's head comfortably resting on his shoulder. "Inside?" "The lighthouse," he said, nodding toward the tall building that had been refurbished only three years ago and claimed as a Capeside landmark. Joey pulled back and looked up at him quizzically. "Can you get in?" "Of course, they don't lock anything around here. You're not scared are you?" he teased. "Not at all," Joey said defiantly, moving completely from him to begin a determined strut to the front of the lighthouse. Pacey had been right. The door was open. "Boo!" Pacey startled Joey halfway out of her skin as she began to step inside. "I'll bruise you for that, Witter," she said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Ow, okay, sorry, jeez." "This place is huge." "Yeah, it's bigger than it looks from the outside," Pacey agreed. The room they entered was, as they'd expected, circular in shape. It expanded about thirty feet in front of them before spilling over into another room that seemed to look out onto the water. There was a winding stairwell almost directly in the middle of the room, which led presumably to the tower of the massive structure. Several small benches were placed around the room, while photographs of sailors and townsfolk lined the walls. "I didn't think anyone watched over this place," said Joey. "Oh, Old Man Hancock comes in a couple of times a week to make sure things are okay. They gave tours of it for a couple summers, but the tourists weren't very interested. We've got so many other lighthouses closer to the center of town, walking wise." "That's true. I don't know why but this one seems different to me." "Me too." They explored every crevice of the place. They climbed all the way to the top of the tower, despite Pacey's insistence that the steps up were too small to hold his large feet. The found out that the room in front of the large main room was a lower lookout room. There were small windows all around it and a telescope that protruded from a point in the wall. The also found maps in an old desk that was scrunched into a corner. Then finally they settled onto one of the benches they'd found earlier, content to just be together again, sharing soft kisses and promises. September 21, 1938 - the next morning It was after two a.m. before Pacey finally walked Joey home. They said their goodbyes, albeit very reluctantly and parted ways. Joey made it back inside of her house and into her bed without a stir from her grandparents. If she'd known sneaking out to see Pacey was going to be so easy, she would have tried it weeks ago. She tried to get to sleep, but felt restless beneath the covers. How was she supposed to sleep after such a wonderful night? She would have to thank Jennifer. Pacey promised to write to her in school once she got settled in. Classes didn't actually begin until the following Monday, but there was plenty of before hand welcoming nonsense Joey's grandmother told her was mandatory. So, they would be off by morning, in Boston by noon. Then Joey would be in Connecticut in time for Aunt Martha to pick her up and drive her to a school she'd never seen before. Maybe Mrs. Leery was right. Maybe this time away would be good for her. She could write to both Pacey and her sister freely. She could study hard, then maybe one day she would go to college. But what about Pacey? Where did he fit into these new plans? Joey woke feeling much more refreshed than she should have after only five hours of sleep. A small cough expelled from her throat and she felt her nose tickle. Perfect, she hoped she wasn't coming down with a cold. Furthermore, she hoped she didn't give it to Pacey. Pacey, mmm, the thought of him made her feel warm and happy inside. She could lie here forever, reliving the events of last night. Her eyes drifted toward the clock that hung over her vanity. It read ten minutes past ten. "Ten minutes past ten!" she shrieked, springing out of bed. She was supposed to be up and dressed by eight. She would not live to see the next day. Why hadn't they awoken her? After scurrying into the dress her grandmother just bought for her and hastily pulling her hair back into a pony tail without an ounce of curl, Joey dashed frantically from her bedroom, happy that her suitcases were already packed and by the front door. When she bounded down the steps, she expected to find her grandmother standing there seething at her late arrival and wayward hairstyle. But to her surprise, no one was in the front room. "Grandmother? Grandpa?" she called, walking through the house, thinking they might have actually forgotten her. They were getting old. "In here, buttercup," her grandfather called. Joey found her grandfather sitting in his robe in the kitchen. "Why aren't you dressed, grandpa? We're going to be late." "Your grandmother and I decided to put you on the late afternoon train, wait until this weather clears up like it did yesterday." For the first time Joey noticed that it was raining again. "Did you call Aunt Martha?" The judge nodded. "Your grandmother did." "Oh." Joey slumped into the chair beside her grandfather. "Where is grandmother, anyway?" "She's getting dressed. She says she wants to go into to town to buy rain clothes or some nonsense." "Not for me?" The judge nodded again. "I'm afraid so." "I already have plenty of rain stuff." "Apparently, it's not good enough for Miss Porters." Joey rolled her eyes then rested her chin in her hand. She remembered the ring Pacey had given her. She'd forgotten to put it away before anyone saw it. She pulled her hand away from her face to look at it. Her stomach curled up in panic. It was gone. The ring was gone. It had to be upstairs. Without a word to her grandfather, Joey ran back to room and tore apart her bedding. "Where is it!" she cried frustrated. "Josephine, I'm going shopping for a few things. I'll be back in an hour or so." Joey heard her grandmother call from the hallway. Joey stuck her head out of her bedroom door without missing a beat. "Yes, ma'am," she replied quickly, not wanting her grandmother to come in and disrupt her search. The older Potter eyed Joey strangely, but then shook it off. "Fix your hair before this afternoon, Josephine. You look a fright." "Yes, ma'am," Joey repeated this time with a cough at her lips. "You're not coming down with a cold are you?" the older woman asked, truly looking concerned. Joey shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just dust or something." Her grandmother nodded. "All right then, I'll be back shortly," she said then continued down the hallway. When she was out of sight, Joey slipped back into her room to keep looking. After about fifteen minutes, she gave up. It wasn't there. Could it have fallen when she and Pacey were walking home last night? No, she would have heard it. She tried mentally retracing her steps. The last time she'd seen the ring, she'd been inside of the lighthouse. Yes, the lighthouse. That's where it was. She could feel it in her gut. She had to go back. She rushed downstairs again. She hastily called over her shoulder when she made it to the front part of the house. "Grandpa! I'm going to see Dawson for a minute. I'll be back, okay?" "Don't forget, it's raining, buttercup," her grandfather said, walking into the room as she nearly dashed out of the door in her dress and new shoes. "Oh, right." Joey looked outside. It was really beginning to pour. She quickly moved to the closet and pulled out a pair of blue rubber boots and a matching slicker and hat. "I've never seen you get your rain things on so quickly," her grandfather chuckled. "Is something wrong, dear?" His tone was knowing, but Joey couldn't deal with telling him right now. She hated lying to him, but there was really no time to explain. "No, no, I just want to say goodbye and everything," she sputtered, inching out of the door. She turned to her grandfather, hoping that he understood. Her grandfather's old eyes shone with understanding, and Joey smiled thankfully. "Be careful, Joey dear." Ignoring the heavy undertones of what her grandfather's warning, Joey answered him politely but swiftly, "I will," and headed out of the door. Unfortunately, the rain was almost blinding and finding her way back to the lighthouse that morning was not as easy as it had been the night before. The streets were not flooded thankfully, but the sky was gray, too gray. Once she made it to the shoreline road where she knew the lighthouse to be, Joey picked up her feet and ran the quarter of a mile it took to get there. She arrived out of breath, lungs burning, nose hot. But she had no time to think about that. She had to find the ring. She couldn't leave for school without it. She was almost sure she dropped the ring while she was inside with Pacey. She and her soaking rubber boots trudged up the muddy embankment to the front of the lighthouse. Not sure if it was empty, maybe Old Man Hancock had happened by, she wrapped her knuckles against the sturdy oak door several times. When no one answered, she dipped inside. Happy to be out of the rain and without looking around, Joey ripped off her rain hat and began shaking it out. "What are you doing here?" a familiar surprised sounding voice startled her. Joey's eyes grew wide as she nearly jumped out of her skin. There stood Pacey in the middle of the room arms folded, staring right at her. She relaxed enough to quip back, "I get that a lot from you. And I could ask you the same thing." Her eyes scanned his body, he wasn't damp from the rain and looked like he had on the same clothes from last night. "I came here after I walked you home last night. I fell asleep. Then it started raining and well-. Shouldn't you be in Connecticut right now?" "I'm taking a later train. My grandparents seem to think this rain'll clear soon." "Doesn't look like it," said Pacey. "I, uh," Joey shifted unpleasantly. She didn't want to tell Pacey why she'd come. "Out with it, Potter." "I just. Pacey, I'm so horrible!" she cried. Pacey was confused. "What? Why are you horrible?" Joey shook her head and turned away from him. "I just am." "No, Joey…." He trailed off as he caught a glimpse of what was going on outside. "Wow, it's really getting bad out there," he observed, walking around Joey and swiftly shutting the door against the suddenly violent wind. "Maybe we should wait it out here." "What? No, I have to get back soon. I just wanted to…," she trailed off, shaking her head. "What is it, Joey?" "Nothing!" Thunder clapped monstrously, startling them both. "I don't think you're going to be able to get back home safely in this." "But-" "And I don't think your grandparents will be driving you to Boston any time soon." "I guess you're right." Joey removed her wet coat and muddy boots. She tossed the coat onto the bench closest to the door and shoved the boots under it. Head hung, she walked a little ways from the door towards a clump of hastily strewn blankets on the floor and slumped against the wall above them, defeated. She sank down onto the dowdy but comfortable-looking covers Pacey probably used when he slept the night before. "What difference does it make anyway? I'll either die in this storm or my grandmother will kill me when I get home." "You're not going to die." Pacey slid down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Look at it this way, we get to spend more time together." He slipped his arm around her. "You're right." Joey gave in, putting her head on his shoulder. Pacey ran his fingers gently up and down her arm, while Joey absently circled the back of his hand with her thumb. "I like this," she said, after a long while. "I wish we could stay like this forever." "So do I." Hours passed, they talked and slept. Pacey noticed Joey's breathing start to get a little heavier as she slept. Her hair had yet to dry much after all this time and it was getting extremely cold inside the lighthouse. It had also grown quite dark outside. This was definitely a hurricane, one of the biggest Pacey had ever seen. They would just have to ride the storm out there. The place had been rebuilt and was much sturdier than it had been in the past, and really they had no other alternatives. He felt horrible for Joey. He still didn't know why she'd come. A window from the back room suddenly shattered, startling Joey awake. The wind ripped wildly through the building, bringing water along with it. "Wait here while I try to patch it up," said Pacey, scrambling to his feet. "No!" Joey protested, holding on to his hand. "Just stay here. We're fine in here," her voice trembled, a little out of fear, a little from the cold. Pacey bent down to kiss her fingertips. "It could flood." "It won't," Joey pressed firmly. "Just stay put, okay? It's not that big of a window. I can do it fast." "Let me help then." He shook his head, already making a dash toward the lower lookout room. "I've done it a hundred times. I'll be right back." Pacey disappeared inside to remedy the broken window. The wind howled and the ocean crashed angrily and fearsomly high against the tall peak where the lighthouse rested. After a few minutes, Joey heard him pounding away at the it. Joey stood up and walked over to the stairwell that led to the tower. She wondered if the storm been worse than this when the lighthouse keeper and his wife died up there. She shook her head. This was no time to try and scare herself. She and Pacey were going to be okay. For a second she felt a bit lightheaded, but it quickly disappeared. Soon, a familiar tickle crept into her chest, and she began to cough roughly. She could barely breathe. What was wrong with her? She couldn't stop. "Joey? Joey, are you all right?" Pacey called. He'd managed to board up at least part of the window, finding some tools in a drawer of the desk in the room. He just hoped none of the other windows broke. They were pretty small and the glass actually seemed to be rather thick. He rushed into the room where he'd left Joey after getting no reply. He went white at the sight of her, hunched over, holding her chest. "Pacey?" she croaked out through a ragged breath, only able to stop her fit for a moment. He was at her side immediately. "Joey, breathe, Joey." "I can-I can't." She wheezed, coughing erratically. "Please try to take deep breaths, sweetheart." Joey tried taking big gulps of air, but her chest was on fire after all of the coughing. "I wanna lay down." Pacey shook out a couple of blankets from the floor, careful to keep the dust away from Joey. He placed one on top of the bench nearest Joey then sat down beside it. "Here, put your head on my lap," he said, holding the second blanket open so she could get under it and comfortably curl up on the first. She hesitated. "I don't want to make you sick, Pacey." "Shhh…." He cooed, pulling her to him. She slid in beside him and let her head fall into his lap. "It's okay," he said, pushing her hair off of her cheek. "Don't worry about me." He tucked the blanket around her. "It's pretty light, but let me know if you get too warm." "Okay, but-" "Shh, it's okay." Joey continued to have coughing fits for another hour much to Pacey's dismay. She was also getting warmer and growing more flushed. She had moved the blanket off of herself, but remained curled tight to Pacey. Fortunately, the wild storm seemed to be calming. Soon, he'd be able to get her out of there – home or to a doctor. He finally managed to get her to fall asleep again. Maybe if she just rested, she'd regain some of her strength. His stomach growled inappropriately right then, and he remembered he hadn't eaten since supper the night before. He wondered if Joey had managed to get anything in her stomach that morning. He hoped she had. It could make a lot of difference right now. Joey coughed again in her sleep, and Pacey felt his heart break a little more. He bit down on his bottom lip, and regarded her for a moment. She was so impossibly beautiful. The thought of her being in sick or hurt, even in the slightest way, made him angry. But he had to be there for her; he had to make sure she was all right. Running his fingers gently through her hair, he spoke to her in hushed tones, repeating over and over, "It's gonna be okay. I'm here. It's gonna be okay." It would be okay. He had to believe that. ******************** Reading is Righteously Rockin'. Feedback is Funkily Fabulous. Writing is Wonderfully Wicked. I Advocate All of the Above! |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 77 (10/4/03 2:35 am) Reply |
Re: VB Bloomin' heck! That was an action packed and deliciously long update, I don't know where to start! I loved the fact that she snuck out of the horrible old Olsen house to meet him and that all that sexual tension that had been building between them finally erupted in them kissing and realising they are madly in love with each other *sighs dreamily* And thank the lord for Jen and her scheming, pushing Joey to take action again before she's sent away. I was almost shaking with excitement when they were throwing the pebbles up at the window and then Pacey came rushing down the stairs *sniffle* How romantic. The ring was adorable and I was worried she was going to lose it the moment they realised it was too big. I was just relieved the old evil Grandma didn't find it! And now the hurricane AND Joey getting sick - oh my! I have a feeling she's going to get a lot worse before she gets better - but at least this puts of her trip.... doesn't it? *begs* You know I'm thoroughly enjoying this sweetie and the way you're writing it; it's transporting me back to all those beautiful old romance classics where everyone is so desperately in love - I can't wait for more!
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 216 (10/5/03 11:15 am) Reply |
PART VI:A Once again, this is for you, Suz! Part VI:A The powerful rain was gone. The pounding wind had turned into a haunting whistle. The Potter home, like every other home on their block, was still standing or it looked that way if you happened a glance from the outside. Behind the tall hand-carved front door, however, one would find a very frightened Elizabeth Potter and her husband in the middle of their worst nightmare. She was gone. Their Joey was gone. The old woman stood where she’d been for the last hour, holding the green curtain in the drawing room back, waiting and watching for a sign of her. It had been hours, too many hours. The child’s grandfather did not seem to know where she’d run off too, but he said he had a feeling she went to see that boy at the orphanage, which was where Mitchell Leery and his son were right now, looking for her. They’d been gone for nearly an hour. Why were they taking so long? Suppose she wasn’t there? Suppose she hadn’t made it there and was caught in the storm? These thoughts had been a constant in Mrs. Potter’s mind since the start of the storm. "Elizabeth, will you please sit down," Judge Potter's weakened and worried tenor grumbled toward his wife. He sat in his old maroon leather chair, tapping his unused pipe against its arm. Their house had been hit without warning, not physically as some of the shore homes surely had been, but from the inside because she was gone. Their girl, she was missing. She could be hurt or worse. Neither Potter would allow themselves to fully formulate what might be the worst, but their hearts were a different matter. They felt the fear. "Here, we are," said Gale Leery, emerging from the kitchen with a tray holding three steaming cups of warm tea. The judge and his wife chanced a short glance at the younger adult before silently answering, the judge with a small shake his head, the old woman without acknowledgment as she returned to staring lock-jawed out of the window. Tea would be saved for later. Mrs. Leery set the tray on a round table near one of the only new things in the old couple's home, their brand new Zenith radio, a radio that, unfortunately did their situation no good for electricity had been blown out hours ago. "Dawson and Mitch will find her." Mrs. Potter would not speak, afraid to visibly relinquish control of her senses. Where was her little girl? Was it her fault that she was gone? Perhaps she'd been too hasty in insisting she attend Miss Porters. Perhaps she should have allowed her more freedom. It was all in her best interest. She didn't know what horrible people lurked out there in the world. She had been rescued from that kind of life, put back into her hands, it was up to her and her alone to keep her safe for as long as she could. She loved her so much. Holding back the threat of vicious tears, Elizabeth Potter smacked the back of her hand against her mouth and slammed her eyes shut, praying for her granddaughter’s safe return. Only minutes before a young Pacey Witter began the heavy trudge down a very slippery hill with his arms full of something, or better yet someone named Josephine Potter. He was scared like hell. She’d only gotten worse over the hours and now that the storm had died down he knew he had to get her home. All worries of being caught had fled his mind. His only concern was to get her to safety. But the walk was anything but short and though Joey wasn’t exactly on the plump side, her weight was beginning to take its toll on his arms. When Pacey finally made it to town, he’d walked through water that reached his calf, caught his foot in a small ditch, and nearly dropped Joey several times. Thankfully the center of town was not flooded. He stopped for only a minute, in order to catch his breath. “You okay, Joey?” he asked as her eyelids fluttered open. She nodded. “I can walk if you want me to,” she offered sounding even weaker than she had before they left the lighthouse. Pacey’s heart clenched. “You just hold on to me; I’ll get you home.” He held her closer and began walking again. “Pacey, oh my goodness!” a sharp high voice cut through the whistling wind, growing closer by the second. "Are you okay?” It was Cynthia Marchbeck, running toward him, waving her arm. It was then that Pacey noticed he was in front of her father’s hardware store. He spotted the man, his wife, and Cindy’s sister and younger brother, standing outside, handing out supplies to a group of men. He wondered briefly what it was they were doing but then Cindy was upon him, hovering over Joey. “Did she get caught in it?” the slightly older girl asked worriedly. “No,” Pacey grunted, his worry for Joey returning and not wanting to waste time going into detail with her. “She’s sick,” he said quickly as he started walking again. “Oh my goodness," Cindy went on slightly out of breath, following by his side. "It’s so awful. I heard that the Olsens house got torn down. And the Millers and Rochesters and five more I know of along that way. Old Man Hancock got caught in the tide this afternoon too. My pa doesn’t seem to think Capeside got the worst of it. He says he got word that Hyannis was hit even harder. It just came out of nowhere, right? Out of nowhere!” “Look, Cindy, I have to get her home or to a doctor.” “Doctor Reed and his assistant are at the school," she said hurriedly, still following along as Pacey sped up his stride. "Some of the people who were hurt were taken right there. A couple of kids too. I don’t know whose. Oh, Pacey, this is terrible,” Cindy began to cry, her normally pin-curled strawberry blonde hair hung in a straight dull mess over her shoulders. She was such a sweet-hearted girl and under any other circumstances Pacey would have made an effort to comfort her, but he couldn’t take his mind off of Joey. She needed him to stay focused. “Do you know how many people are there?” he asked, still moving. Cindy shook her head. “More than twenty, I think.” “I’m going to have to get her home then. She needs to be some place warm.” “Is that Josephine Potter?” she asked, realization dawning on her as she moved up to study the girl’s features. “Yes," he grunted again, irritated that she'd asked at all. “Pacey, where was she?” “It doesn’t matter. I have to get her home.” “I’ll go with you.” “No!” he practically roared, his senses on over drive. "If people see you with her-" Pacey cut off her genuinely concerned plea with his own truth, "I don’t care what people think.” “I’m coming and there is nothing you can do about it.” Pacey did not answer. He wasn’t going to agrue with Cindy Marchbeck when Joey could be getting worse. He repositioned her in his arms before moving his feet even faster in the direction of the Potter’s home. She was going to be okay. He would make sure of it. *********************** When they arrived at the Potters' front door, they were greeted by a very worried Judge Potter. "Josephine! Oh my dear girl, what's happened to her?" he said in a rush. "She-" "Bring her inside, boy, bring her inside," said the Judge sounding completely beside himself. Cindy moved in quietly behind Pacey, wondering if she should get back to her family now that Joey was back home. "She's sick," Pacey finished his sentence. "She's been coughing for hours, and she's got a fever." He looked so worried over her, and there was something else in his eyes, something Cindy couldn't really explain, something that she hoped for Pacey's sake was only fleeting, but she feared was not. She watched as Mrs. Potter came to hover over her granddaughter, followed by the Leery woman she'd seen at church but had never spoken to. They were all frantic over Joey. They loved her like her mother and father loved her and her siblings. Suddenly, Cindy knew where she had to be. It was a crazy day. She needed to be with her family. She slipped out of the door, hoping that her friend would be okay there without her. No one, of course, noticed her departure. "What have you done to her?" Elizabeth Potter spat ruefully at Pacey as she brushed back Joey's hair and cooed. "Oh my sweet child." "Grandmother," Joey croaked out before shutting her eyes. She felt so weak. Gale Leery spoke up urgently. "Pacey, you should get her to her room or lie her down on the sofa." "Her room is best," snapped Mrs. Potter. "Right this way," Judge Potter said hurriedly, heading toward the stairs. "He can't-" Mrs. Potter began, but was cut off by a soft admonishment from Gale. "She needs to be carried, and he can do it. I'll take care of her. My father was a country doctor; he trained my sister and I to help him." Mrs. Potter nodded dumbly as she watched that Witter boy carry her grandchild up the stairs her behind her husband. What was happening? The world was coming apart. Mrs. Leery rushed after them and Mrs. Potter, regaining her sense of mind, followed close on her heels. "It looks like pneumonia," Mrs. Leery said, alternating the back of her hand and the palm of it across Joey's forehead after Pacey had gently placed her on her bed. Her room had been deshevled for some reason, but the judge and Mrs. Leery placed the sheets and pillows back and order in record time, allowing Pacey to set Joey down after only a short while. The young man stood by chewing his bottom lip and shifting his feet, watching Joey lay there sweating and growing pale. Had Mrs. Leery just said pneumonia? Didn't some people die from that? This was his fault. Somehow, this was all his fault. "Someone's got to get a doctor," Mrs. Leery continued, looking between the old couple then finally resting her eyes on Pacey. "The doctor's at the school with some of the storm victims," said Pacey. "Well, go there and get him you stupid boy!" Mrs. Potter thundered, her control completely coming unbound. "If there are a lot of people who need him, he probably won't be able to come. We can make due until tomorrow. I know what to do," said Mrs. Leery wisely. Just then they heard a bustling downstairs. "Mom! Judge Potter!" "That must be Dawson and Mitch," said Mrs. Leery. "Up here, sweetheart! We've got Joey!" she called out to her family. Dawson and his father entered the room in seconds, damp and out of breath. "What's wrong with her?" Dawson asked instantly, seeing Joey lying on the bed, before he noticed Pacey standing behind his mother. "Pacey, what-" "Dawson, honey, Joey's pretty sick. We're just going to have to take care of her, okay," said Mrs. Leery, speaking to him as if he were a young naïve child, which Pacey was sure he still was. Pacey stood by silently, wanting to be the one to take care of her like he had been for all of those hours, but then he also wanted her to get well. His heart ached for her. "Do you think she'll be all right?" he asked bravely, needing hear something to ease his fear. "We can't know for sure, Pacey," said Mrs. Leery with a sort of soft half-hidden pain in her voice. "Not yet." ****************** Pacey received an earful from his former childhood chum after being pulled into the hallway by the arm by the boy who was just two inches shorter and five months younger than he was. "Where the hell were you two, Pacey? She could have died!" Dawson said loudly. Pacey's stomach had grown into pot of gruel laden with guilt, anxiety, and resentment toward one Dawson Leery. "Not that it's your business," he said, trying to keep his tone civil, "but we just happened to run into each other. I didn't set out to find her this morning." "Where the hell did you run into each other?" Pacey shook his head. There was no way in hell he was going to betray Joey by telling Dawson about the lighthouse. It didn't quite make much sense to him why he thought such an admission would be a betrayal to Joey, but he did. It was their place, their own world. "Dawson, look, I know I can't expect you to understand." "Try me," he returned coldly. Pacey shoved his eyebrows in the air and folded his arms across his chest. "Rather not, chum," he said, spitting out the last word. "Would you boys stop the bickering and concentrate and helping out the Potters?" Mitch Leery said, closing the door to Joey's room softly behind him; the occupants in the room had to spend a moment getting Joey into warmer clothes (the judge stayed inside, opting to simply turn his back for the necessary amount of time). "He isn't going to help anyone, Dad," said Dawson. "It's his fault Joey's here." "Dawson, she was more than likely sick before she ever went outside. You don't simply catch pnemonia from being in a storm." Dawson snorted, he was definitely not buying that one. A loud banging on the door downstairs broke only slightly through the tension in the hallway. "I'll get that," said Mitch. "You boys behave," he added pointedly. Pacey shook his head. "Your parents talk to you like you're five." "Yeah, well, you wouldn't know anything about…" Dawson trailed off realizing that might be going a bit far to use Pacey's lack of parents against him. After all, Joey was an orphan herself. Joey. His mind seethed. Pacey was trying to take her away from him. She was his only friend. Dawson's father reappeared in the upstairs hallway and for the first time the two boys noticed there were voices downstairs. "I need to ask the Potters something. They may have a few impending guests," said Mitch without so much as a glance toward Dawson or Pacey before knocking softly on the door at the end of the hallway and gaining another invitation into Joey's room. Dawson stared Pacey down, nostrils flaring and anger boiling inside of him. "You should leave," he said in a low growl. Pacey felt his gut twist and his hands clenched. He had to force an image of Joey into his mind to will himself steady. "This isn't your house," Pacey said through gritted teeth. Dawson snorted at this. "You think the Potters want you here after what you did to Joey?" "I didn't do anything!" "Boys," Mitch Leery admonished from the doorway of Joey's bedroom. He pulled the door only partially shut this time. "In case you've forgotten there are other people in this house besides yourselves." "Sorry, Mr. Leery," Pacey said, keeping his eyes trained on Dawson for a moment, before turning to his father. "How is she?" "She's, uh," Mitch looked away. "She's calling for her mother. Look, the Olsens lost their house and they've asked to stay the night. Mrs. Potter wants me to show them to the guest rooms downstairs. I'll be right back," he said eyeing the two boys, not trusting their attitudes to remain in check. He gave up, realizing he had other things to contend with. That Olsen woman was a handful at best. Pacey stood there mulling over what Mitch had said about Joey. His heart ached for her. Why did she have to suffer like this? Soon, he heard a strangled cry float into the hallway from her room. "Pacey," she uttered, following an onslaught of wretched coughs. Without another thought, Pacey rushed toward the door to Joey's room, but was stopped by Dawson's hand clutching his elbow. "Don't," said the golden boy, eyeing him with disdain. It was obvious he resented Joey calling out for Pacey and not him. Pacey ripped his arm out of Dawson's grip. "Don't make me hit you, Dawson." "Young man, please leave!" Mrs. Potter's harsh voice echoed down the hallway, enveloping him and causing him to shudder. "You're not wanted here." "But-" She stepped closer to Pacey with her hand raised and her eyes narrow. "Go now or I'll report you," her voice came out in a soft hiss. "You'll never see the light of day once I'm through with you." Pacey heard Joey's continuous cries and shook his head furiously. "No," he said, looking past the old woman through Joey's half-cracked door. "She needs me." "She doesn't need you. She needs a doctor. She needs her family. Because of you she might die." "That's not true," Pacey said, forcing down the sob that had risen in his throat. "Leave now, young man." Pacey fisted his hands together and looked the old woman firmly in the eye. "I'll be back tomorrow." He glanced in the direction of Joey's bedroom one last time before forcing his suddenly heavy feet toward the stairs. He would be back. ************* Every day at noon for the past seven days, Pacey left the disaster relief crew he'd volunteered to lend his mornings not too far away from the lighthouse and returned to the steps of the Potter home. Each day, he was greeted by a sharp-tongued Mrs. Potter, who shooed him away, telling him only that Josephine, as she called her, had not gotten any better and that he should stop pestering them. He wondered why she didn't try to have him arrested because every day, after being expelled from the Potter's front porch, he took his sack lunch and sat across the street against a tree. Every now and then he'd see the old woman, peeking from the curtains. He watched as Dawson strode back and forth between her house and his own, tossing him dirty looks but not bothering to acknowledge him any further. Pacey had a feeling that Dawson got a kick out of being the one who got to see Joey when he didn't. Jennifer Lindley happened by on a daily basis as well. She would stop and talk to Pacey for a while after spending about an hour inside. She complained that she didn't get to spend much time with Joey when she did she was made to sit in a chair across the room. Jennifer told Pacey that the doctor assured her that if she caught anything, it would not be much more than a cough. That, Jennifer was willing to risk in order to keep her friend company. Pacey began to see why Joey had chosen her as a friend. Not only was she fiercly loyal, but she also had a wisdom about her that he was sure the brilliant Potter girl appreciated more than most. She was real, and Pacey knew that was rare, especially in Capeside. And so Pacey would sit there against that old tree, his lunch gone, his heart aching, his head tired, everyday until the sun went down, then slowly he'd pick up his feet and carry them back to the orphanage in time for dinner and whatever chore followed. Miss Pinchley had not spoken a word to him about being gone for nearly two days when he'd returned home after that night, dripping wet after the storm. She did look like she wanted to hug him when he returned, but she remained cast in her iron suit, only smiling gently and telling him to head to bed and thank heavens all of her boys were safe and sound after such a horrific day. It had been horrific to Pacey, but that had little to do with the storm. "You know your face could get stuck like that if you frown too long," Jennifer Lindley came to stand beside Pacey. It was just dusk then and the sky was a purple. The leaves rustled down the old street and if anyone looked twice they would have never known that a storm had ravaged through there just a week earlier. "I saw the doctor go in again," Pacey said. Jennifer nodded, a very large smile creeping onto her lips. "She's gonna be okay." "Are you sure?" he asked, desperation heavy in his voice. She nodded again, biting her lip. A tear trickled down her cheek, but she kept on smiling. "She is, and she's asking for you, Pacey," she finished, releasing a heavy breath as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Pacey, however, did not smile even though ninety percent of the ache his heart had been harboring had just been set free. Instead, he stared solemnly up at Joey's bedroom window. The curtains were drawn closed like always. "I told her you were here," Jennifer said, sensing what Pacey might be thinking. "That you've been here every day." Pacey sat silently contemplating everything he'd just heard. Jennifer stood by quietly, supporting the boy that she knew was in love with her friend, though she was quite sure he had yet to truly realize this himself. "I want to see her," he said finally. Jennifer shrugged. "Then you see her." "They won't let me." "Have you thought about asking Judge Potter?" "I never see him." "That's because he leaves in the mornings to go to the courthouse and comes home, oh after you leave in the evenings." "But I was here over the weekend, and I didn't see him." "He was inside with Joey then." "What exactly are you getting at?" "Stay until the judge gets home. He might be able to help you." Pacey considered this. The old man seemed to be a little softer than his wife that night, but he'd been so scared for Joey, Pacey wasn't sure if he'd just let his defenses down at that moment. He eyed Jennifer skeptically. "Are you sure about this?" "Couldn't hurt. And Pacey?" "She wants to be with you." "Why am I not happier to hear that?" "Because you're afraid. Don't worry, we all get that way sometimes." "Thanks, Jen." "If you'll excuse me, I have to go help my grams with dinner. It's starting to get dark." Jennifer winked at him before heading down the tree-lined street and around the corner. It wasn't too long before he saw Judge Potter's 1936 burgundy Cadillac Sedan pulling in front of the house. The old man climbed out of the driver's side and went around to gather a few things from the passenger seat. It was now or never, thought Pacey, picking up his legs and moving quickly across the street. "Judge Potter," he said a bit too urgently as he approached him. The old man looked up after stuffing his arm full of files and pulling his briefcase from below the seat. "Mr. Witter, isn't it?" "Yes," started Pacey nervously, going over quickly to help the judge close the car door. "I, uh…. I was wondering," he said after the door had been firmly shut. He looked around, trying to get his tongue to cooperate. He had to ask just right. "What is it, dear boy? Speak." "Well, Joey," Pacey sputtered out a ragged breath, "She, uh, the doctor says she's going to be okay." The judge placed his unoccupied hand over his heart, his eyes slipping shut for a moment. "Thank goodness. Have you been to see her today?" he asked curiously as he made his way up the front walk, briefcase still firmly in hand. "No, I was hoping that maybe, if it would be all right…" The judge nodded. "If you agree to share a few minutes of her time with an old man." "Yes." Pacey gulped, his heartbeat suddenly quickening. He didn't think it would be this easy. Had he known… He shook his head. This was no time for internal battles with his inner psyche. "Come along then. You can help me carry these files in." "Of course, sir." Pacey relieved the judge of the bulky papers and followed close behind him. He was known in the community for being fair-minded but stern. He was liked by most, but Pacey had not been in contact with him directly since his father had been killed, excluding the night of the storm. "Come on, son, put those down on the table there and let's go see our girl." Pacey looked at him quizzically. Our girl? Surely, he had not meant to say that to him. Joey wasn't his girl. She was just someone who he admired very much, someone who made his heart tickle and flutter, someone who was a damn good kisser. He felt heat rise up his neck, fearing that he might have thought that out loud. The judge may have been a fair man, but Pacey doubted that he would want to hear some lousy orphan had been in a lip-lock with his granddaughter. When they'd made it upstairs, Pacey noticed the door to Joey's room was wide open, unlike it had been that night Mrs. Potter had tossed him out on his ear. He began to panic, that old woman would be inside, wouldn't she? What would she say to him? Would she railroad her husband into throwing him out before he even got a chance to speak to Joey? But she was right there, so close. The desire to see her overwhelmed him. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest. He had to be with her, even if it was only for a moment. And dammit, for some reason the hallway seemed to stretch much longer than it had that night he'd carried Joey up to her room. Finally, he'd reached the end of it and as he stepped over the threshold into her room he was greeted with the most amazing sight in the world – Joey Potter's beautiful lopsided grin. From her place on her bed, she held out her hand to him. Instinctively, he slid to his knees and brought her hand to his cheek then quickly placed soft kiss on her palm. He'd missed her so much. She was going to be okay. His mind was racing as he looked at her, forgetting for a very long wonderful moment that they were not alone in that old Victorian-style bedroom. Unfortunately, they were not alone at all. ********************* Reading is Righteously Rockin'. Feedback is Funkily Fabulous. Writing is Wonderfully Wicked. I Advocate All of the Above! |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 78 (10/5/03 11:44 am) Reply |
Re: PART VI:A Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, don't stop there *sobs* My heart was beating faster and faster as he was getting closer to her room and then you stopped It's so tragic.... they're so desperately and hopelessly in love with one another - I wish that wicked old woman would just drop down dead.. I really do! She's a meanie. *sighs* Joey wants to be with him, he adores her... why can't things go their way for once? *sniffle* I'm loving this as you know sweetie - and absolutely can't wait for more. When will that beeeeeeee? *smooch* |
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EviePJlvr
Posts: 217 (10/25/03 2:29 am) Reply |
For Suz again! 6B and epilogue... VERY LONG! Hey Suz, you get two parts in one today. It's the last chapter AND the epilogue. Neither are short... sooo... you're in for a good ride. Book II is next! Eyes shining with tears that were quite uncommon for the normally steely teenage boy, Pacey cradled Joey’s hand carefully between his two large ones. The room was stuffy but the soft sent of lilacs hovered in the air. It smelled like Joey. This wasn't a dream. "I’m so glad you came," she lent him a bright smile. The sight of it caused the butterflies lying dormant in his stomach to begin a fitful game of tug of war. Unable to stop himself, he pressed her fingers to his lips again. "I’ve been trying, Joey. I've been trying but-" "Ahem," a throat cleared haughtily behind them, slicing roughly through their reverie. Startled, Pacey was on his feet and would have leapt across the room had Joey not defiantly kept hold of one of his hands. He was surprised when his eyes came in contact, not with the long thin face of the gray-haired Potter woman he'd been expecting, but with the round sour countenance of the Widow Olsen. "Mrs. Olsen, have you met Pacey Witter?" Joey said, looking the disapproving woman in the eye without shame. "I can't say I've had the pleasure," she said nastily. Judge Potter, who'd been standing in the doorway behind Pacey, chose that moment to speak up, knowing just how vicious and unjust the Widow Olsen could be. "Well," he started with a bit too much exuberance, causing the woman to turn her eyes on the judge sharply. He took her hand and led her around Joey's bed. "By all means I've only just properly met him myself," he went on. "Very nice young man." They stopped a couple of feet away from Pacey, who wore a mildly temperate look of shock and confusion. What was Mrs. Olsen doing there? He'd been expecting to face the household witch not the Medusa of Capeside. Mrs. Olsen looked Pacey up and down then sniffed, "Well, Judge Potter, I really don't think that it is proper-" The old gentleman cut off her rapidly rising tone with a gentler one. "Mrs. Miranda Olsen, this is Pacey Witter." Pacey, not seeing any way around it without being rude, held his right hand out to her in greeting. Mrs. Olsen, however, was more interested in the boy's left hand, which was still threaded with Joey's. "Young lady, your grandmother would highly disapprove of this. I can't believe even you, Judge Potter, don't find it indecent." The judge shrugged calmly. "I see nothing wrong here." He would have normally been concerned about his granddaughter's obvious affection for a boy she hardly knew and was so filled with troubles, but at the moment, he was too happy about her recovery. That, and the boy's presence seemed to bring out a glow in her the old man had thought was lost long ago. Pacey shifted uncomfortably and tried to drop Joey's hand to try and ease some of the tension in the room, but she wouldn't let him. As for Mrs. Olsen, she was starting to turn purple, looking a bit like a grape with hair. She wagged her finger at Pacey then turned away from him and spoke to Judge Potter as if he were no longer in the room. "This boy is… is… improper. You know very well that he is not… And his family. Surely, you don't want others reminded of that blight you've had to endure due to your son." "I will decide what is proper in my house and what I care to be reminded of, Mrs. Olsen." "Well!" Mrs. Olsen dramatically held her hand up to her chest. "I'm certainly glad that I'll be on the train to Boston tomorrow to stay with my sister. I most certainly was not a welcome guest in this house." "Miranda, I never said such a thing. I only-" "And this boy! You take his side over mine. Well, I will just see what your wife has to say about this. Thankfully, my Nelly is in more suitable company at the moment," she added with a huff as she flounced out of the bedroom toward the kitchen where Elizabeth Potter was standing over Winnie while she prepared the Olsens' farewell dinner. The judge chuckled as she departed then turned to his granddaughter. "Where is Nelly?" "Over at Virginia Larchmont's for some going away tea or some nonsense," said Joey grinning. To Pacey's surprise she dropped his hand easily and held out her arms to her grandfather. Had she only been holding his hand for show to get under Mrs. Olsen's skin? The judge gave his granddaughter a quick squeeze before sitting on the edge of her bed. "I'm so glad my girl is going to be all right." Joey rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I've been telling you that all week." "I know, but it's nice when the doctor says so too." Joey returned her grandfather's warm smile before focusing on Pacey. He nervously shuffled his feet back and forth with his hands stuck in his pockets. "Pace, don't worry about her." He only shrugged. "Please, come sit next to me." Pacey's eyes immediately went to Joey's grandfather. "It's all right. I think I can trust you when I'm in the room." The old man chuckled. "Grandpa, do you think we could um… just for a minute?" "Now Josephine, I don't know. Your grandmother will not like it. Actually, I don't think that it would be a very good idea." "Please?" Joey poked out her lip. Pacey would have laughed at the expression had he not been so terrified at the moment. "All right, but I'll be right outside of the door." Judge Potter brought one of the small chairs from the corner of Joey's room into the hallway and left her door cracked. When he was gone, Joey tugged on Pacey's fingers. "You can sit, if you want. The doctor says I'm not contagious any more." She suddenly remembered her earlier worry. "I didn't make you sick the other night did I?" "Nah, just a little cough." Pacey awkwardly perched himself on the edge of the bed beside her. "So, I get pneumonia and all you get is a little cough?" Joey teased twisting her face into a false scowl. "It happens," he shrugged. Joey narrowed her eyes at him, trying to think of some way to retaliate, when he startled her with a soft request. "Can I have a hug?" he asked, wanting a kiss to accompany it but didn't dare to ask because she still looked a little weak. Joey blinked slowly, watching his anxious expression. Her heart felt like it would absolutely burst at that moment. She nodded, slowly opening her arms to him, allowing Pacey to gather her close. They both sighed. "Elizabeth, calm down!" They heard the judge saying as Joey's bedroom door burst open and Pacey scrambled off of the bed. "Young man, you will leave right now!" "We weren't doing anything wrong!" Joey shouted from her bed. "Josephine, please keep calm. You're still weak," said Mrs. Potter before rounding on Pacey. "You see what you're doing? You're making her sick." "With all do respect, Mrs. Potter, Joey didn't get upset until you walked in the room." "How dare you speak to me that way in my own house? I-" "Elizabeth, please, I think it's all right if Joey makes a new friend." "Why this boy?" The old woman's eyes grew a half a size. "You said it yourself. She needs to relax, so, please, let's just leave her be." Mrs. Potter looked at Joey who was still very pale and ashen from sickness and felt her resolve weaken a little. She looked to Pacey. That boy. This was his fault, but Joey was still weak and he was already here. So she looked Joey in the eye and held up her hand. "Five minutes." She turned sharply on her heel and left the room. Joey's grandfather followed quietly and returned to his seat outside of Joey's bedroom after telling Pacey he was welcome to visit tomorrow and to ignore his wife. Pacey chuckled as he reclaimed his spot beside Joey. "I like your grandfather." "Grandpa's sweet but it's my grandmother who… well…." "I know, the woman rules the home and hearth around here." Joey shrugged, not wanting that statement to be true and hating that Pacey was dead on target by saying it. "I see where you get your fire." Joey's mouth dropped open as she indignantly folded her arms beneath her chest. "I am nothing like her." "Not outwardly, you express your passion differently." Joey continued to scowl. She really did not want to be compared to her grandmother, especially when she was still so angry with her. Pacey smiled and brushed a piece of her hair over her ear. "I better leave." "What? No," she protested, forgetting her annoyance. Pacey smiled and bent to kiss her forehead. "It's okay. I'll be back tomorrow." Joey sighed. He was right. There was no need to start another fight with her grandmother. "Okay." *********************** The next morning, Pacey woke up a little later than usual to someone pulling his big toe. "I've got a letter for you," a somewhat familiar young boy's voice filtered through his foggy morning haze, not even trying to whisper. Pacey stayed up most of the night thinking about Joey, mostly good things but some not so good. He couldn't stop a nagging worry from occasionaly creeping into the back of his mind, telling him viciously that things were not going to last with them. But then he'd think of the way she'd kissed him or the look on her face when she'd seen him yesterday and his heart nearly floated out of his chest, letting all thoughts of worry disappear. Prying first his left eye open then his right, Pacey tiredly focused on a ten-year-old freckly-face. "Pete, you are the most irritating kid in this place," he groaned with sleep heavy in his voice. "That's what they tell me." Pete chuckled then grinned wryly. "It's not from Paris this time. It's from California again." He tossed the long off-white envelope at Pacey as he sat up. The room was empty and Pacey figured he probably missed breakfast again. He looked down at the envelope. "It's from my brother," he muttered as he tore it open. Pete sat down roughly on Pacey's bed. "You know, Pacey, that girl you like so much?" "Mind your business, Pete." Pete ignored him and continued with a tone that was half teasing and half admiring. "She's got to be a real knock-out for you to get all mushy like you have been doing." Pacey shook his head. "I haven't been all mushy, kid." "Sure you have. Buzz said so too, all the guys." "Well, that's because you have nothing better to do." Pete grinned because Pacey was right. They didn't have anything better to do. Especially now that Miss Pinchley had started going on about classes beginning on Monday. He thought after the storm they'd have to help out around town a little longer, but no such luck. It was nearly October, and she said their brains would turn into pumpkins for Halloween if they didn't get back to their studies soon. So, the boys tried to keep their minds on more interesting things, hoping to forget about times tables and Shakespeare for the time being. "So… have you kissed her yet?" "That is not your business," Pacey said quickly. "Ha!" the boy hooted triumphantly. "You have kissed her. How many does that make this, Pacey?" Pacey shook his head unable to keep the smirk off of his face before finally pulling his legs from beneath the covers and pushing Pete off of his bed. "Now, get outta here and let me read my letter." "Fine, but you gotta give me the details sooner or later." Pete scurried toward the door. "I choose later." "Better than nuttin'!" he called from the hall before whistling his way down the stairs with heavy feet. Pacey turned his attention back to his letter. Pacey- Well, little brother, I guess you could say your old decrepit brother has, well, halfway made it. I'm still working with the same guy I told you about before, but he's hired me as his personal writing assistant permanently. I've officially moved from a room over the stables to a small apartment on the property. It's not Buckingham Palace, but it'll do for our purposes, yes ours, meaning you and me, Pace. I want you to come and stay with me. There's plenty of space for you. And there's actually work here where you might be able to start earning your own living, start out right. I know you're still in school. I figure we can have Miss Pinchley send your records here and you can finish up your last year here in Monterey. This is only an invitation Pacey. I know we haven't seen each other in a long time, but I miss you and I know Dad would want me to take care of you, even if he acted like a jerk most of the time, even if I acted like a jerk most of the time, we both still thought the world of you. Well, I hate to get too mushy for ya. So, I'm going to let you go here. I've sent you a train ticket. It's good for the rest of the year. I hope you can use it. I'm glad the storm didn't get you too badly in Capeside. I heard word from an old buddy of mine about it two days ago. He said he'd seen you around town and you were helping out with the relief. I'm proud of you, Pacey. I really am. I hope to hear from you soon, even if it is to tell me to go jump in a lake for taking all of this time to "come get you." Doug Pacey sighed. It felt good to hear those words from his brother. He always sounded a lot nicer in his letters than Pacey remembered him growing up. He knew it was because Doug had been hard hit with the reality of losing the father and racked probably a lot harder by the Depression than Pacey had ever been. He'd grown up and somewhere along the line had become wretchedly human. Pacey liked that. He liked that because he too felt wretched from time to time. Still, he was happy in Capeside, happier now than he'd ever been. Stuffing the letter in his pocket, and placing the ticket into his tin box beneath is bed, Pacey decided he would write back to Doug and tell him he appreciated the offer, but he was staying right there in their hometown. He'd missed the clean up mission this morning but still had time for a shower and a stop over in town before heading to see Joey. Joey. Who was he kidding, she was the only reason he wanted to stay in Capeside. On his way through town, he stopped by a flower vendor named Sam and bought as many wildflowers he could for her with the change he had in his pocket, eyeing the very expensive roses but knowing he couldn't even afford a stem. He couldn't help but feel that Joey deserved better. He arrived at the Potters' home not too long afterwards, one hand clutched a bit nervously around the small bouquet another poised to ring the doorbell. Joey's grandfather answered the door. "Well, well, young man, let me get those a drink of water. I'll bring them up to my granddaughter's room in just a moment for you," he said, ushering Pacey through inside, explaining to him that his wife had accompanied the Olsen's to the train station and ordered him to keep watch over Joey in her haste to impress the wealthy woman. The judge chuckled and shook his head. His wife could be very predictable sometimes, so much so that she forgot about her watchdog protection of her granddaughter. Pacey found Joey in her room sitting in a corner chair reading. She brightened at his presence. "I was wondering where you were," she grinned, causing Pacey's heart to bounce a bit in his chest. "I wanted to take you up to see my attic today, but grandmother insists it's still too dusty for me right now." As Pacey pulled up a chair beside her, Joey's grandfather came in with the flowers. "Look what this nice young man has brought to cheer you up, young lady. You better tell him thank you." He winked, heading back toward the door. "And you also might want to keep this open." He pushed her door so that it stood completely open then turned to smile at the teenagers good-naturedly. "I was young once, remember that." He winked and before they could say anything he was gone. "Is he always like that?" "Pretty much," said Joey. "Well, when grandmother's not around." Pacey laughed. "Thanks for the flowers," she said, her voice softly cracking. Placing a hand on her cheek, he brushed her soft skin with the pad of his thumb. "You're welcome." Joey blushed and felt brave as she turned to kiss his finger. Doing things like that under her grandparents' roof was a lot scarier than it had been before. But Pacey smiled, like a warm blanket on a cold night, and she felt comforted. For the next hour or so, they spent time talking much like they had the night before the storm. They bantered a bit, told jokes, and revealed secrets until Joey, dying down from a fit of very uncharacteristically Potter giggles, sighed and broke through their fantastic haze of merriment. "You know, my grandmother will be home soon." "I know," Pacey replied solemnly as the smile he wore quickly disappeared. "She might let you stay," Joey said softly. "I don't want to cause trouble." "Sure you do," she laughed. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, maybe a little." "I like that you shook things up around here. It needed it." "Guess I did more damage than that hurricane." Joey shrugged. "I wouldn't call it damage." "Then what would you call it?" She thought for a moment. What would she call it? "I don't think I could put it into words." Pacey pushed his forehead into wrinkles. "Sure that's not a cop out, Miss Potter?" "I'm sure," she said, finishing it with a very large yawn. She placed the back of her hand against her mouth as a second took over. She blinked her teary eyes, trying to get control over her drowsing senses. "Maybe you should get back in bed," Pacey said, concern lacing his voice. "I'm fine, Pacey, I just-" she was cut off by her third mouth-stretching sleep alert. "Okay, I guess you're right." Joey pushed herself out of her chair and climbed into bed again. She hated this sickly thing, but, oh, she was so tired. "Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked sleepily. "You can count on it," Pacey said softly, leaning over her bed to kiss the top of her head as he had yesterday. Joey smiled and closed her eyes contentedly. "See you tomorrow." Pacey gently closed the bedroom door as he left. "Hello, Mr. Witter." Funny how that icy voice had become so familiar to him in the last few days. He turned to Joey's grandmother and smiled politely. "Hello, Mrs. Potter." "Did you have a nice visit with my granddaughter today?" "I did." "I'm glad you did. Actually, Mr. Witter, I think it might be nice if we had tea together some time. Get to know one another a little better." Pacey eyed her skeptically. Why was she being… nice? Still if this meant that maybe she would accept Pacey as Joey's friend, then maybe he should agree. "All right." "Another day then. Right now I have some things to attend to." "Okay." "Goodbye, Mr. Witter." ********************************* Days passed, leaving Pacey wondering why it was that he never ran into Dawson, not that he wanted to, or why Mrs. Potter who had seen frequently over the last few days, had not mentioned their eminent tea date. That he definitely could have lived without. It didn't matter though. He was happy. He was able to see Joey. That was all that mattered. Cheerfully, he bounded up the steps to Joey's room. Sam, the flower vendor, had given him a rose for Joey today, saying to him. "I've never seen such a grin on a Witter. She must be something special." She was special, almost too special. When he got to the end of the upstairs hall, he found Joey's bedroom door partially shut, like it usually was. Before he had a chance to wrap a soft warning on the wood paneling, his eyes landed on Dawson Leery. The blond boy sat beside Joey on her bed, the afternoon light filtering through the bedroom window, and he framed her face between his hands and whispered softly to her. It was as if someone squeezed Pacey's windpipe shut. He slammed his eyes shut and shook his head. An ocean of confusion, protectiveness, betrayal, and disappointment washed over him. In short, a horrible sense of reality set in. He'd played the game. Let himself forget those last few days, concentrated on those two nights they'd shared under the stars and in that cold old lighthouse. He let himself believe that she could maybe, if he prayed really hard, be his. But she wasn't? Was she? Pacey turned to walk silently down the hall. Maybe he should give her a chance to explain, let him tell her he'd seen it all wrong, let her propel him back into his fantasy world. "Mr. Witter," Mrs. Potter's sharp voice startled him as he reached the landing. She stood in the middle of the staircase with one hand holding the banister. "We never did get to have that our tea. Why don't we have a bit now?" "I, uh –" "Please," she raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Pacey's assent. When she received it, her false smile broadened, causing Pacey to shudder a bit. Still he nodded and chose to follow her into the drawing room where a table was already set for two. Guess she's been planning this, thought Pacey. "One lump or two?" she asked after they'd both taken their seats. "Whatever is fine," he answered, carefully keeping Joey's flower in his lap. He bounced his left leg a little, attempting to quell his nerves that had suddenly decided to do the jitterbug in the pit of his stomach. He knew this was no ordinary friendly chat. "Two lumps, I should think," said Mrs. Potter, dropping two small cubes into the brown liquid meant for Pacey. Maybe she was going to try and poison him, he thought wryly. "Uh, thanks," he thought to respond before delving into images of gangster movies and strychnine. "You're very fond of my granddaughter," Elizabeth Potter began gently, still smiling that insincere smile. "That much is clear." "Yes." "And she seems to enjoy your company." "I don't know," shrugged Pacey. "She seems to." "But, my dear boy, you must understand this cannot go on much longer." And there the bomb fell. "I don't understand," he said, hating that he really and truly did. "I'm sure you do, Mr. Witter. Despite all of the things you are not, you seem to be a rather intelligent young man. My Josephine is very impressionable and she allows herself to become very lonely. Her attachment to you is at best, a fleeting one. And while it may give her comfort now, it will only turn into pain if it continues much longer." Pacey, who'd been sitting with his head bowed thus far, clamped his eyes on the old woman. "I would never hurt her, ever," he stressed the last word emphatically. "You may not intend to, but you will. It's inevitable." "I mean no disrespect, Mrs. Potter, but I think you're wrong." "I'm sure you do, Mr. Witter, but I have a few more years of life experience than you, and I've known Josephine much longer than you have." "Mrs. Potter-" "My son hurt your family. I'm aware of that. He hurt ours as well. I do not pretend to think that we had to withstand the type of pain you were forced to endure at such a young age, but you have to realize that because of who you are, you and Joey cannot be friends or anything of the kind. Do you want her to be stigmatized forever?" "People forget things." "They may stop talking, but they never forget. When Joey's mother died, I vowed that I would take care of her. That I would make sure she became a strong decent woman, but most of all I wanted her to be safe. You are not safe, Mr. Witter, and you never will be. If you want to do what's best for my granddaughter. You will stay out of her life." Pacey stood up, feeling defiance rising in his heart, though his head continued to flood with doubt. "Don't you think she should be the one to decide who she wants to be friends with?" "No, I don't. Josephine is a child, a child of fifteen. She's spent most of her life sheltered. She doesn't know." "Sheltered? She's only lived here for four years. What about her life before that? She remembers it. She told me all about it." "This is precisely the reason I don't want you around my granddaughter. Those things are better left in the past. She needs to move on to happier, more productive ways to improve her life. You will only hold her back." "I'm sorry, but I don't think that Joey sees it that way." At least he hoped she didn't. Damn, you stupid old woman, his mind cursed as streams of insecurity began to wash over him. Unable to take any more, Pacey stormed out of the room, he would just talk to Joey. As he approached the stairs, he bowed, he ran straight into Dawson. Images from earlier flooded his mind. He'd nearly forgotten. Dawson and Joey. Was he what she wanted? No, that didn't matter right now, he needed to talk to Joey; he just needed to see her. Unfortunately, Dawson did not think this was a good idea as he stopped Pacey with a forceful hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing here?" "Visiting Joey." "She didn't mention anything about a visit from you." This statement stung Pacey for some reason, but he continued to shoot daggers at his former friend. "Didn't know you were the one handing out invitations." Pacey sighed, "Look, just get out of my way. I wanna see, Joey." "I really don't think that's a good idea." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" "You know what I'm talking about. It's your fault that she was sick in the first place. It would only upset her-" "Funny, how she didn't seem so upset when I was by here yesterday," he shot back. "She's a polite girl." "You know full well that if she didn't want me around, she'd say so." "She feels guilty." "About what?" "You know what about." Pacey pushed away the whoever it was on his shoulder whispering in his ear, telling him that Dawson was right, that old lady Potter was right, that he himself had known it all along and spat, "This is getting boring. Just let me by." But Dawson went right for him, knowing just how to touch his insecurities. "You're from two different worlds, Pacey. She may find your rough charms appealing now, but she'll grow out of that, believe me. And then what are you going to do? Embarrass her and yourself by still going after her? Be realistic. You have nothing to offer her. You'd only tie her down." Pacey said nothing as he stood there seething from Dawson's words, feeling every inch of him overcome with emotion. He needed her; didn't they understand that? "Look," Dawson's combative expression softened into one that resembled pity, "I like you, Pacey. But you have to be realistic. Let her go. Do her this one favor, and let her go." "I can't," he breathed, staring up the stairs. "Try. For her sake." Pacey stepped around Dawson and looked from the staircase to the rose he still held clutched in his hand. Tears welled in his eyes, but he shook them away. He tossed the rose onto the table beside the steps. "Tell her I said… no, don't tell her anything." Pacey started toward the door then turned back to Dawson. "Watch over her for me." "I always have." Mrs. Potter, who'd been quietly watching the exchange between the two boys, put her hand on Dawson's shoulder. "I know he was your friend, and I'm sure he's a very nice boy, but…" "Look," Dawson sighed tiredly, "I have to go. Tell Joey, I'll be by tomorrow." ************************ They were right. They were both right. He'd known it all along. The feelings he had for her were crazy and stupid and childish. He tried talking himself into thinking they meant something more than what was fitting and proper. He thought it meant more than social status and family squabbles. All right squabble probably wasn't the best word to describe the trouble between the Potters and the Witters, but thought that maybe he and Joey could pretend it away, be other people. But Dawson was right. They were young. Things would change. He was so stupid for thinking otherwise. A deep growl unforeseenly ripped from his lips and Pacey broke into blind a run. Before he knew it, he was at Old Leo, climbing up its fat branches as night fell over Capeside. He slammed his eyes shut, as his back hit the thick trunk of the oak tree. His fingers gripped the loose material of his pant legs in some fitful attempt to control his raging emotions. Fury and self-hatred bubbled inside of him. He was a nothing. He didn't deserve Joey. How could she ever accept him truly when he didn't even accept himself. There was one thing, however, he did know, one thing that might save him. He had to leave Capeside. He had to get out. He would go to California; he'd go to his brother. Maybe out there, it wouldn't hurt so badly. Maybe out there, he could do something right. That night, Pacey gathered up all of his belongings, which consisted of a tied up blanket, he made into a sack, three pairs of pants, four shirts, a few pairs of socks, some underwear, a toothbrush, and his box made out of tin. He then crept slowly down the steps of the orphanage, stopping only for a moment so that he could slip a hastily written letter of thanks to Miss Pinchley beneath her door. He'd already divided his baseball collection between a few of the boys, leaving the bulk of it to Buzz and Pete. They would understand his leaving. After a while, all of the boys left anyway. As Pacey made his way through town, his mind drifted to the last night he and Joey spent at the lighthouse. It was a magic night. It was magic because she was there, like a shining angel that allowed him warmth and acceptance. He should have known then it could not last. He should have known. Still, Pacey could not help but want to venture there one last time. When he pushed open the door, he realized that no one had been there since he had trudged down the hill with Joey the day of the storm. It was dry now, but much chillier than the night they had spent there together. Pacey sighed heavily. He wanted to sleep there, revel in the memories of her, but he had to be on the 11:15 train that night. He knew if he waited until morning, he'd chicken out or run into someone who might try and change his mind, and he had to do this. He had to go. Just as he was about to turn and walk out, his eyes fell on a shiny object wedged behind the bench he and Joey had shared, not the day of the storm, but the night before. It was beneath an old picture of a couple, smiling in each other's arms, that was embedded into the wall close to the lookout room. The night before the storm, the spot seemed cozier than most as it sat mostly behind the stairwell with a comforting shadow cast over it. During the storm, however, Pacey kept Joey as close to the front of the lighthouse as much as possible because it was warmer and drier. He'd also slept near the door. But this object, he recognized it immediately and wondered how he could have missed it. Joey's ring. Their ring. He crouched down and pulled it free. Had this been what she was looking for? Had this been the reason she'd gotten caught up in the storm? A nail dug right through Pacey's heart and jammed it to the floor. Any lingering doubts about Joey were gone. She would have never been here had it not been for him. He was bad for her. They were right. Stuffing the ring into his pocket, Pacey left the lighthouse and soon Capeside. It was the first time he'd ever left. He found that odd considering his entire family was gone. It was no longer his home. He had no home. He'd known that for a long time. ************************* Joey worried her lip as she stared out at the night sky from her bedroom window. Pacey was supposed to come by and see her today, but he never did. She thought she may have heard him downstairs at one point but when she asked her grandmother about it she told her it was only she and Dawson speaking. Tired of being cooped up entirely on the upstairs floor, Joey quietly ventured out of her room and downstairs. She smiled to herself at a very inviting idea that entered her mind. She would make herself a cup of hot tea and sneak into her attic. Maybe she would write a letter to her sister and ask how she was then tomorrow she could ask Pacey to mail it for her, if he ever showed up. Joey crept to the kitchen to brew her tea as quietly as she could without waking her grandparents. She felt good, better than she had in a long time. She'd be heading to Miss Porters in a little over two weeks and not sooner. The doctor felt it was important for her to rest and recover at home with as little stress as possible. Which was okay, because the school would only be opening a week before Joey arrived due to unforseen storm damage. So, Joey grinned at the thought, that meant more time with Pacey. Images of him filled her head, the way he smiled at her, brushed the hair so gently out of her eyes, and kissed her forehead tenderly. He could make her laugh like no ever could. She was happy, so happy. And to top it all off, her grandmother actually had let him come to visit her. When she finally got to Miss Porters, she would write to him every day if she could, and she wouldn't have to worry about getting caught because it was all okay now. The teakettle made a bit of a whistle and Joey rushed to move it off of its burner before it got too loud. After she'd cleaned up behind herself, she took her steaming mug mixed with tea, milk, and sugar, and began again toward the staircase. Her eyes fell on to red rose on top of the foyer table. Her heart leapt. Why was this here? Her grandmother would never have left it there on purpose if it was meant to be put in water or had it been a gift from her grandfather. Her pulse began to thump rapidly. Had he been here? She carefully picked up the delicate rose and lifted it to her nose. He had been there and he left this for her without so much as a word. But she'd specifically asked her grandmother if he had come. Tears began to prick the surface of her eyes. Was this some sort of goodbye? Or had her grandmother thrown him out again? Her heart dropped. What happened? What happened? Without notice, Joey's cup of tea slipped from her fingers and crashed on the floor, causing her to jump. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she surveyed the mess around her feet. This was it. Her life. Shattered warmth soaking into a Persian rug and warping the wood floor around it. "Josephine, are you all right?" her grandfather's voice whipped down from the top of the staircase. "We heard a crash," her grandmother followed as the pair of them came to her side as quickly as their old bones would allow. "Josephine!" her grandmother snapped immediately, having nearly stepped into the tea. Joey's mind was focused on other things. "Did you send Pacey away today?" she accused, holding the rose up as evidence. "Josephine, this is not the time-" "Answer me!" Her grandmother looked flustered and tried to keep her attention on the mess while avoiding Joey's eyes. "I'll get some rags from the broom closet," she muttered. "Answer me, grandmother!" Joey stomped her foot. "I'll go," the judge said and eased himself out of the room. This was between Joey and her grandmother. Mrs. Potter crossed her arms, pointing her chin up. "If you must know, he left on his own." "Was that before or after you ripped him apart with your acidic tongue?" Mrs. Potter's arms untwisted and landed at her sides. "Where do you get such talk, young lady? This is just the reason I did not want you around that boy." "I have my own mind, grandmother! I've only been friends with Pacey for a few weeks! I think I learned to speak before then." Mrs. Potter snuffed. "You never raised your voice before." "I have to." "Well, you would do better to learn some discipline." "So, that's it?" Joey's throat hitched. "You're just going to ship me away without another word? I love Pacey!" "You don't know what you are talking about." "I love him, and I think he loves me. He won't give me up that easily." A tear slipped down her cheek, and she made no move to wipe it away because for some reason, her heart was squeezing with sadness. Her grandmother's expression softened, but her position did not change. "I think you're wrong, Josephine. I think you're wrong." Joey shook her head, still clutching Pacey's rose in her hand. "I don't care what you think. I just…." She just what? She just hurt. She was just afraid, just sick and tired of everyone and everything. Sighing heavily, she waved her hand over the mess. "I'll clean up then I'm going to bed." "No, go on up. We'll take care of this." Without any strength left to argue, Joey nodded dejectedly and headed back to her room, not completely understanding why it was her heart had shattered right along with her cup of milk and tea. The judge emerged from the kitchen with a hand full of rags and a broom. "You think I'm doing this all wrong, don't you?" his wife asked him. The judge dropped the rags onto the floor. "She has to start making her own decisions." "I just want to keep her safe." "Maybe Josephine isn't the one you're trying to keep safe, Elizabeth." *~*~*~*~*~* Book I: Epilogue December 16th, 1938 Farmington, Connecticut The Head Student was named Virginia Larson, a girl of seventeen who acted every bit like she was a woman of fifty. She was a stern as a nun, contrasting most of the feeling Joey got from her surprisingly comforting days at Miss Porter's also known as Farmington to the girls who lived there. Virginia's long dark hair hung straight down her back, pinned up only slightly at the sides, reminding Joey of a nun's habit. She wore her skirts just longer than they needed to be as if to emphasize her position as the most proper and well-groomed young lady at the school. Right now the stringent girl sat behind a long brown table like she did every day after lunch, handing out mail like drill sergeant. "Liddell, Audrey," Virginia's voice rang out over the whispering girls who were crowded together in the front hall. "Oh, hold these, Joey. I'm expecting a package today." The tall blonde named Audrey stuffed her books into Joey's arms and pushed her way to the front of the crowd. "She's probably getting another gift from Randall," Laura Chadwick, a mousy girl with light-brown hair and freckles across her nose, said beside Joey. They stood in their usual spot near the large white double doors that led outside. It was cold, so they were closed and most of the girls still wore their coats from their trek up from the dining hall. "Could be Christopher this time," Joey drawled with a snort. Laura giggled, then slumped against the wall with a sigh. "I wish I had just one boy writing to me and sending me gifts." Of course, Laura hadn't received a scrap of mail for weeks. Her parents weren't exactly the overprotective types and boys, well… she was just a little shy around them. "What about Henry?" Joey asked with a knowing smirk, causing Laura to blush. "Oh, he's too handsome for me. Besides, any boy I'm interested in always seems to be more interested in my older sister's charms rather than my non-charms." Laura's sister, Jeanne, was an actress, to the chagrin of her parents, engaged to a famous Broadway producer, who'd only graduated from Miss Porter's a year before. She was the talk of all of the girls as well as any boys who visited the school. They joked about her in ways that Joey didn't think the former debutant would have appreciated had she heard them. "Try asking him to dance with you tonight," Joey suggested, referring to the winter formal that was taking place that evening. "I don't think so," said Laura, shaking her head as if even the thought of such a thing could mean sudden death. Joey shrugged. She didn't feel like talking about boys right now. She was done with them after all. Unfortunately, she was not going to get her wish as Audrey approached them holding a rectangular box in one hand. "Well?" Joey smirked with a raise of an eyebrow. Laura was a bit more enthusiastic with her inquiry, "Is it from Christopher or Randall?" "Paul," Audrey said quickly. "But it's not as big as I was hoping. Well, you know what they say about smaller gifts." "Paul? Who's Paul?" Laura asked wide-eyed. "Hotchkiss boy. He's rather cute, I suppose. He'll be here tonight," she said with a flippant wave of her hand. "Bunny, I saw you've got a couple of packages waiting for you up there. Do you want me to run back up to the room and put this down so I can help you?" The house they roomed in was just across the snow-speckled lawn. "No, I think I can manage." "I'll help her," said Laura. "Good. I still have to do finish that essay for History." "It's due in twenty-five minutes!" Joey admonished. "Huh, guess I better get started, huh?" Audrey said already dashing from the building. Joey rolled her eyes. "Some roommate." "At least you don't room with Bertha the Bull," Laura glowered. Joey laughed as she thought of the rotund field hockey captain and her brutish attitude. To say she was a contrast to the bookish giggly Laura, would be an understatement. Joey found her nice enough, but Laura was scared to death of her and spent most her time in Joey and Audrey's room. Audrey was also quite different from Laura, but as Laura pointed out Audrey was like her sister Jeanne. Boy crazy and glamorous. Those types of contrasts she was used to. "Potter, Josephine," Virginia boomed, causing Joey and Laura to quickly gather their things and head for the table. There were three midsize parcels waiting for her. "Thanks," she muttered, placing one under her arm and another on top of her books. "My grandmother is crazy. We have one more week before the holidays. What is the point of all of this?" Laura grabbed the last package for her and noticed a red envelope with Joey's name on it that was propped beside it fall to the floor. "Hey, Joey, don't forget your letter." "What letter?" "This." Laura held up the red envelope only to realize that Joey couldn't see in front of her for all she was carrying. "Oh, it looks like a Christmas card or something. I'll keep it for you," she said, guiding Joey through the crowd so she wouldn't drop anything. When they reached Joey's room, they haphazardly dropped everything onto her bed, books and all. Audrey sat scribbling furiously on a pad of paper at the edge of her bed. Her desk was too cluttered with pictures of boys and decorations for practical use. "Wow, perfect timing ladies," she smirked without looking up. "I'm just about done. I'm guessing one of those packages contains goodies prepared by a certain housekeeper extraordinaire named Winnie, Miss Josephine." "My grandmother exploits her. She works for another family too and doesn't have time to waste baking stuff I'm never going to eat just because my grandmother feels guilty." "Hmm, well, I'm happy she does it. What did she send this time?" Audrey asked, looking up with hopeful eyes. Joey opened a box and found several pairs of socks inside. Audrey tossed her essay aside and went to sit next to her roommate. "Hmm, nothing. Okay next box," she said, putting the socks behind them and handing Joey another parcel. In it, were pictures of the family, several of them. "Aw, is that you, Joey?" asked Audrey grabbing one of the framed photographs from the box. "You were too adorable." "Oh, you were. Who's this?" asked Laura, scrunching in beside Audrey and pointing at the picture. "My sister Bessie." Joey's brow furrowed. Why would her grandmother send her a picture with Bessie in it? She hadn't seen one in plain sight of their house since before she moved in. "Okay, bunny," Audrey sing-songed, holding the remaining box in her lap, "open this up before we have to go to class." Joey put the pictures aside and ripped through the third and final package. "Kippy! Oatmeal raisin! That woman is a goddess," Audrey said, grabbing one of the large cookies and taking a bite. "Mm, well, time for class." "Did you get it done?" "Yep. It's a little over a page." "It's supposed to be three," Joey snorted. Audrey shrugged. "I'll say I had a stomach ache." "I'm sure she'll believe that," Joey rolled her eyes, watching Audrey stuffing the last bit of cookie into her mouth before grabbing another. "What? I didn't have much at lunch." Laura laughed and Joey shook her head, glancing at her watch. They had three minutes to make it across campus. She pushed her friends out of the door and they hightailed it to their lesson. That night Joey and Audrey and the rest of the girls were pinned, primed and polished for the big night. Several boys' schools would be attending which left Joey wondering just what type of juggling Audrey would have to do in order to keep her men away from each other. She was actually wearing the necklace that Paul had sent her that day. A brazen move, but Audrey didn't bat an eye as she headed down early for her planning committee duties, leaving Joey with a very anxious Laura. "I don't think I look nice," she said, inspecting her face in the round mirror that hung over Audrey's dresser. "You look nice," Joey replied as her eye caught something sticking out from under her bed, a red envelope. It must have slipped when they'd tossed the packages down earlier. She carefully kneeled down to pick it up. "Oh," said Laura as she noticed what Joey now held in her hand. "Sorry, I must have dropped it. Is it from your sister?" "No," Joey gulped inspecting the writing on the front of it. "It's from California." "Oh? I didn't know you knew anyone from California...besides Audrey." Joey had failed to tell the girls the reason she was so angry with her grandmother, though she'd mentioned the sentiment on several occasions. Audrey had hounded her for nearly a month before finally giving up. Laura, on the other hand, would quietly offer her support and an ear any time Joey's face took on that familiar slump. "I…" Joey's heart was in her throat. It was from him. She'd never dreamed she'd ever hear from him again and now when she was on her way to a dance, a dance she'd told herself she'd try and mingle and meet other boys. She'd shrugged them off at the autumn dance and didn't speak a word to one member of the opposite sex when they'd traveled to Avon, the nearest boys' school, to one of their weekend get-togethers. She was too hurt, always thinking of him. She didn't understand why he left without a word to her. She knew her grandmother must have said something awful to him to make him do such a thing, but at least he could have left word with Jen, at least he could have done that. But no. He chose to leave and take her heart with him. She cried for over a week, much to her doctor's dismay. "If you're going to go to school, Josephine, you're going to have to take better care of yourself," he'd said. But Joey didn't care. She told them she didn't want to go. She said she didn't care about studying or meeting new people or anything like that. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and forget. Her grandmother tried persuading her out of her cocoon any way she could think of. She offered to buy her a new wardrobe, which caused Joey to laugh hysterically for the first time in days. Joey could have cared less about clothes. It just showed her how little grandmother really knew about her. Eventually, she came to her senses, well, a realization that going away might help her forget Pacey. That and she couldn't stand to look her grandmother in the eye for too much longer. So, that left her here. Months later, staring at a red envelope with barely legible handwriting scratched in black ink. Miss Josephine Potter. Her eyes darted up to the upper left corner. P. Witter. No address. "Who's P. Witter?" Joey practically jumped out of her skin. She'd forgotten Laura was still in the room. "Does this have anything to do with…?" Laura began but stopped herself not wanting to pry. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me." "No, I… I don't know if I want to open it." Her stomach was in knots. "Well, you can wait until after the dance," Laura offered. "Or I can go back to my room and leave you alone with it." "No! I mean. Stay here with me while I open it." Laura nodded, smoothing down her dress as she leaned against Audrey's dresser. Slowly, Joey tore the seal open. Laura stared with a furrowed brow at her friend. She looked petrified of that letter. Who on earth was P. Witter? Joey pulled a white card with a strikingly beautiful green print of Christmas holly on its cover and peeled it open. A sob escaped her lips as her eyes scanned the contents of the card where an obviously very long note was written inside. Laura lurched from her station to Joey's side, seeing tears slipping down her friend's cheeks. "What is it? What's the matter?" Joey shoved the card at her friend and collapsed onto her bed, ignoring the rational voice in her head that told her to remain calm. Laura's eyes quickly read the words written by a boy she'd never met. Dear Joey, I'm sorry I never got a chance to say goodbye. I just couldn't. It took me this long to even write to you. I started and stopped a million times since that day, but I always chickened out. Maybe I was afraid of what you'd say. I don't know really. I do know that I'm sorry I ruined things for you. I never meant to. I knew from the start that things between us could never work. We were too different and our families. Well, your family. I only have Doug, and he really had no say in what I did or who I saw. I guess it really came down to you Joey. You're so beautiful and so refined and I'm rough and not good enough for you. I don't want to take back the days we spent together. They were some of the best damn days in my life. I know, I know, don't swear, right? But they were. I'll always remember them. I hope you do too. I'm not sending you my address for two reasons. First, I don't want you to feel like you need to write me back, and second, I'll be leaving here in a few days anyway. My brother has a new job and we're moving again. Doesn't really matter anyway. I haven't made any real friends here yet. I hope the same does not go for you, Joey. I hope you are having a good time and making friends. I have a feeling once we make it to wherever we're headed, I will too. You're going to do great at school, Joey. I know you will. You'll do great things with your life. I'm proud to have known you, Joey Potter, and I promise never to forget you. Always, Pacey PS Merry Christmas. "Oh, Joey," Laura said sympathetically. "Was he your boy?" Joey shook her head, keeping it buried in her pillow. Laura spoke in a softer voice, "It sounds like he was." Joey whipped her red face up and pinned Laura with a furious gaze. "He wasn't! He's not. He won't ever be." She fell back into the pillow and continued to cry uncontrollably. She felt out of control. She hated being out of control. She felt lost. She hated that too. But that was her permanent existence right? She was an orphan too, like Pacey. He was supposed to understand her. He was supposed to care, but he didn't. He didn't care. He didn't. "Why don't we just stay here tonight? We don't have to go to the dance." Joey sat up. "No, we are going. We're going," she said firmly. "But don't you want to talk about it?" "There's nothing to talk about, Laura." Laura shook her head, knowing full well there was plenty for them to talk about, but chose to let Joey handle herself in whatever way she saw fit at the moment. She crossed the room and placed the card on Joey's dresser before moving toward the door. "I'll get a wash rag for your face then. I'll be back," she said, slipping quietly outside. Joey rose on wobbly knees and picked up the letter. She very much considered ripping it in half as anger mingled with feelings of sadness and rejection. How dare he do this to her? How dare he not give her a say in the matter? Or was that it at all? Maybe this was just an excuse to get away from her. But she knew had that been true he would have never sent the card in the first place. Against her better judgment, her eyes drifted back to his words. And once again, they ripped at her heart. Things between us could never work. I'm proud to have known you, Joey Potter, and I promise never to forget you. Her nose stung and tears pricked her eyes, and she barely heard Laura's return. "Joey," she gasped, seeing tears flowing down the brunette's face as she leaned against her dresser, shaking. "We're staying here," Laura decided firmly. "No," Joey straightened up and wiped at her face, sniffling. "I want to go." "That's too bad," Laura said more forcefully than Joey had ever heard her speak. "You're going to get this all out of your system." "But…" Joey tried to argue, but she silenced her with her hand. "They'll be other dances, Joey. Plenty of them." Joey sighed plopping down on her bed then took a deep breath. Who was she trying to fool? She didn't want to go. Not now, but Laura, she wanted to go. Her boy was just downstairs, probably already dancing with someone else. Joey's forehead wrinkled, trying to forget her heartache for a moment, and asked, "What about Henry?" Laura shrugged, suddenly finding the view outside of Joey's window interesting. "I told you, he doesn't even know I'm alive." "Don't you want to see him anyway?" Joey asked in a wise but still rather nasally voice thick from crying. "I'd rather keep my friend company." Joey nodded sadly, trying to keep her tears at bay, at least for the moment. "Okay." Laura was right. She needed to get this out of her system. She didn't have Jen around to talk to anymore. She missed her friend, but unfortunately for her, she missed Pacey even more. "So, cookies and eggnog instead? That is after we change out of these clothes," Laura smiled brightly. Maybe she wouldn't offer sage words of wisdom in the fashion of Jennifer Lindley, but she seemed like a good listener. And that was what Joey needed right now, a listener and a friend. ********************************* Monterey, California "I hate that we're leaving so behind schedule," Doug said as he lifted a heavy trunk into the back of his dusty old pickup. "I'll drive if it bothers you so much, Dougie," Pacey said, throwing a couple of duffle bags in beside it. The wind whipped around them on the first rain free evening they'd had in days. It was chilly, but nothing compared to their Decembers in Capeside. "No thanks," Doug shuddered as he thought of Pacey's newly acquired driving skills, and he used the term skill loosely. "Then stop complaining, Dougie. We're headed to Hollywood. You're going to be makin' dough! Finally." "This from the boy with the perpetual scowl imprinted on his face." They both climbed into the car once everything had been packed. Doug pulled the truck onto the gravelly road as Pacey marveled at this new strange world around him. Things were so different here than they were in Capeside. It was younger and held a feeling of freedom. And now they were headed to Hollywood where Doug had signed a contract to write for MGM. Pacey had never dreamed his life would take such a turn. Things might start finally going his way. He could do anything. Be anyone. Anyone, that is, but the one person he wanted to be, the person he could never be - the man who got to be with his Joey Potter. He'd give it all away for a chance to be that man. But it could never happen. He was who he was and she was who she was. Nothing would ever change that. He reached into his pocket and felt the ring he'd kept close to him ever since the day he'd left. He'd been careful not to lose it and planned on sending it to her whenever he mustered up the courage to write to her. But when he finally did find the guts, he faltered at the idea of returning the ring to her. It didn't seem right. In his mind, he should never have given it to her in the first place. It wasn't that he thought the feelings that led him to do it were fleeting. No, he knew better than that. It just wasn't right for her. He should have just left her alone. The sun began to set over the horizon, and the road turned into an empty highway. At the end of that highway was his new life, and he was going to try like hell to be happy…even if it killed him. ************************** Stay tuned for Book II [/center] Edited by: EviePJlvr at: 10/25/03 2:46 am |
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SnoozyC
Posts: 81 (10/25/03 2:34 am) Reply |
Re: For Suz again! 6B and epilogue... VERY LONG! Oh god *sobs* I'm actually crying so hard right now that I can't actually form a proper reply  I need a cuppa tea and a lie down and then I'll be back *bawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwls* |
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Pacephine
 Posts: 42 (7/12/05 3:59 am) Reply |
Re: For Suz again! 6B and epilogue... VERY LONG! I miss your writing. *sniffles*
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