Chapter Text
Joey could picture Dana on the other end of the line in the New York office, her heels propped up on the corner of her desk as she filed her nails, head tilted to balance her phone against her shoulder—cord stretched taut. Joey had watched her do this many times from her desk, equal parts impressed and envious of her supervisor’s confidence. Dana was a natural red head who wore her hair long and flat ironed. Partial to charcoal pantsuits with gem colored blouses, she was the youngest supervising editor on their team—a fierce protector of Joey’s time and energy. Fresh from a decade of therapy and several weekends of leadership training, Dana was always one to shoot straight. Even though she had experienced this no-nonsense demeanor for years, Joey still startled whenever she was the subject of it.
“Josephine,” Dana said sternly, stopping Joey in her tracks. She had been giving a rambling, apologetic explanation of why she needed more time in Capeside. “One of your best friends just died. And she has a little baby. You’ve got shit to deal with. End of story.”
Joey let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding, loosening her grip on her cell phone and turning her eyes skyward. The sun was beginning its descent. She only gave herself a moment to clock this, however, because Dana was barreling onward, saying something about her paid time off.
“I can check with HR and see what can be done. See if we can maybe stretch the bereavement policy a bit? Your mother’s already dead, is that correct?”
Joey’s jaw dropped, heart skipping a beat, but before she could react, a new voice could be heard in the distance on the other end of the line. Dana responded. It sounded like she was speaking to someone in her office. “No, we don’t need to check in about that now.”
Like a weathervane, Joey turned slowly on her heels. She was standing in the front walkway to the Ice House, empty tables to her left and right. It was quiet around her, as the restaurant had been kept closed for the private event earlier that day. She listened as her boss spoke to whoever had interrupted the call. She didn’t recognize the other voice, and wondered if it was the new editorial assistant she had heard about through the grapevine. How odd that regular life was still happening all around, while she and nearly everyone close to her had been in the hospital, saying goodbye to a dear friend.
She saw Jen’s face in a flash, but squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her thoughts instead on what this new editorial assistant might be like. Dawn didn’t sound like she was being stern with her. Did she wear the same sort of ill-fitting pencil skirt every day, as Joey had, when she started on their team several years ago? Joey started biting a nail, waiting for her turn to speak. She ached for the normalcy of packing up at the end of a work day, swinging her purse over her shoulder as she switched gears to think about dinner plans. There was a time when her biggest problem was how she would simulate a moment of solitude during her commute home, before opening her apartment door and discovering what combination of roommates and roommates’ friends she’d be forced to make small talk with before seeking refuge in her room.
Joey was still idly rotating on her heels when something shifted in her weight. She caught herself before anything embarrassing could happen, planting both feet squarely to face the front steps of the restaurant. She barely registered what she was looking at until she saw Pacey through the glass of the front doors beneath the awning. He was moving around inside with his back to her, putting up chairs and closing up.
She thought of her conversation with Dawson back at his house, before she grabbed a ride back downtown with Gail. At last, they had found some sort of peace with one another. Soul mates. But it was a different love. It had shaped her childhood and past, and also who she was today. As much as she hated to admit it, their talk by the creek did make her braver for whatever would come next with Pacey.
“It’s past six, get out of here!” Dana’s voice brought her back to the phone call.
“I lost track of the time,” she said reflexively, as if Dana had been speaking to her. “If you want me to call you tomorrow morning–”
“Yes, I do actually, but I was talking to Marcy, the new EA,” Dana said brightly. “We’re going to be okay here, and you’ve got a life to get back to... Listen, If you get me a number, we can fax the new Giovonello manuscript over to you. Her agent handles things old school. Refuses to send a manuscript via email for whatever infuriating reason. But it’s a light one, likely all you’ll be able to handle right now. Marcy has been great, by the way. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s much better than the other EA who left. What was her name? The one who kept getting overwhelmed by the copy machine and tried to microwave tin foil?”
“Um…” Joey couldn’t seem to recall much of anything outside of the recent events at Capeside. Her life in New York somehow seemed like a lifetime ago already. It didn’t seem to matter that she couldn’t remember the name, however, because she could hear the unmistakable sounds of Dana packing up for the day.
“If you could just get me a number, we’ll send it over tomorrow. I can cover for you for a week, maybe two, but I’ll let you know.”
A smile spread across Joey’s face as she glanced reflexively back up and through the restaurant doors. It fell a bit when she realized that Pacey had disappeared from view. More time was the greatest gift she could possibly receive at this moment. She turned to face the street again, ducking her head to fight the sting of tears in her eyes. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“It’ll be fine,” Dana said, sounding distracted. “I’m heading out now, but I’ll work on this tomorrow. As long as Summers is over in the London office, no one will notice your notes are coming from the Cape rather than New York. Everyone’s swamped from the recent streamlining…” There was acid in her tone. “The delay won’t matter. One day, mark my words… I have a feeling we’ll all be working away from this depressing city of cubicles. Maybe you can ‘Lewis and Clark’ this and report back. Tell us of your travels through the wilderness. And Joey…” Dana trailed off, her voice dropping low.
“Yeah?”
“I’m so sorry…” There was a long pause. A deep inhale and exhale came from the other end of the line, and Joey couldn’t help but follow suit. Her head began to pound. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. “I only spoke with her briefly a few times, here and there over the years,” Dana murmured. “And I remember her bringing her tiny baby in once. From the way she spoke to you, and the way you always seemed so happy and settled when you were together… I could tell you loved each other deeply. I remember thinking she spoke like someone who had lived a lot of lives.”
The tears Joey had been fighting to hold back suddenly broke free, and she found herself crying and gasping for air, embarrassed yet relieved. What was she feeling exactly? Was this the joy of having known Jen Lindley? Or was this fury at the universe for ripping her away?
“I’m sorry…” She heard her own voice as if from far away. “I don’t know what to say…” she forced out a sheepish laugh through her tears. “God, I feel crazy. I’m so grateful for you. I hate that this is hap–”
“You’re such a rock star, Joey,” Dana said, intentionally interrupting. Joey knew it was an act of kindness. Dana was going to hang up soon to let her break down in private. “I want you to take the time you need. You said you’re staying with your sister? Take care of yourself and call me. Call me tomorrow morning with a fax number.”
“Fax number. Got it,” Joey sniffled, determined to hang on to that important instruction. The one scrap of normalcy she could cling on to. Tomorrow she would get a manuscript, and she could pretend at least for a little while that the world wasn’t turning completely upside down because Jen Lindley was gone. Joey shut her flip phone and stared out at the water across from her. Not everyone knew or cared about Jen. Why was that? It didn’t seem right. She sat at an empty table facing the water, turning her phone over in her hand, lost in thought.
It took a while to register that a group of teenagers were coming around from the boardwalk on the other side of the restaurant. Her eyes fell on them, taking in their giant smiles. They certainly had no idea that Jen was dead. As they came closer, she clocked two boys and two girls. The air of invincibility was something she recognized. It made her smile, despite everything. Beneath the sound of their chatter and laughter, she heard slow footsteps descend the stairs behind her. From the corner of her eyes, a pair of brown, slip-resistant Oxfords appeared on the walkway beside her. She felt something shift in the air. Pacey was standing beside her, hands in his pockets. His eyes were following the teens downtown as if they were birds silhouetted against the setting sun.
She had spent so many years alongside this man and yet his sudden presence never failed to send a jolt up her spine. So many years of being near him, and she was still struck by the rare moments of silence when he allowed things to just be. As she watched him, she realized ruefully that she had spent half of her life wishing he would stop talking so much, and the other half desperate to know what he was thinking. The teens were long gone by the time Pacey took what seemed like a fortifying breath, scratching his chin absentmindedly before turning his gaze to her. It was steady and unflinching, with only a hint of weariness from the day’s events. The glance drew her up, and she stood slowly. His eyes followed her up, flicking down just once to clock that she was putting her phone in her back pocket.
“I saw you on the phone earlier. New York?” he asked casually, touching his thumb to his nose in a nervous tic. She had just started to say his name, but stopped.
He pressed his lips together, wincing at the interruption.
“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.
He spun away abruptly with an exasperated laugh. Even in near silence, they had trouble letting the other get a word in edgewise. Joey brought a hand to her hair in disbelief, suddenly feeling shy and fifteen all over again.
“What is it about us and timing?!” he shouted into the air.
She laughed as he took a few steps away from her, shaking off the tension and collecting himself. She was glad for the momentary break, nervously fluffing her hair with a hand as she waited for him to turn back to face her. He put a hand to his mouth, and she knew the wheels were spinning wildly in his head. She fought the urge to say his name again, in case he spoke. She knew it was going to come out in an avalanche soon.
He turned on his heel with sudden conviction, stepping just one foot forward, palms pressed firmly together. “Josephine Potter, everyone has finally gone. The restaurant’s closed for the rest of the day and I’m exhausted. Now, I could lock those doors and drive you to the Potter B & B but I have a feeling you came back just now to talk to me. And besides, my car is a mess right now. It’s absolutely filthy, because I haven’t had a minute to breathe since this place opened its doors years ago, and I don’t want that to be your most recent impression of me, the man you just confessed to being in love with.” He paused to put a mock-humble hand on his chest and flash her a charming grin. “I don’t want you to get the false impression that my life is that much of a disaster because it’s actually not… Well, I guess it’s all kind of a disaster right now because Jen is gone and she’s left a baby for us all to raise. Let’s face it, Jack is a baby himself and he’s got this really great job and we’ve actually all got jobs and I don’t know how any of this is going to work…” Joey had flashed a smile to match his at the allusion to their earlier conversation, but at the mention of Jen, she felt her body fill with lead. He was right. This was all a mess, and it was all so much bigger than the two of them. “But he’ll do it. And we’ll do it. For Jen. We can’t figure out the particulars right now of how we can all support, because everyone’s gone and I’m exhausted. And I also have this horrible feeling in my stomach that, if we step anywhere away from this place, it’s very likely that Dawson, or Dougie, or Bessie, or Audrey, or hell maybe even the ghost of Abby Morgan will be right around the corner, and I don’t want that. So…”
He took another tentative step forward, glancing around theatrically as if expecting any of the aforementioned people to materialize. Joey pressed her lips together in a grim smile, bracing for what was next as he took a deep, settling breath. “What if… instead of all that… we go back in there?” He pointed toward the Ice House, and Joey took a tentative breath. “Inside, there is a bottle of wine that I’ve set aside because it has just enough left for the two of us. A small glass each, I mean,” he amended, as she felt a blush creep up her face. He was starting to ramble, getting fidgety. “Let’s not get too crazy here. That’s my livelihood in there–”
“Pacey,” Joey said, stepping forward.
Saying his name was enough to ground him, and he took a breath, his eyes earnest. “Do you want to have a drink with me? Please say yes. We can go in there, lock those doors, and sit out back by the water and just…” He opened his arms wide and shrugged, finally at a loss for words.
She took a breath, studying his face. He looked hopeful, but slightly guarded. Her heart softened. “Pretend we’re somewhere else?” she suggested lightly, shrugging her shoulders to mirror his own uncertain posture. “Just for a little while?”
She watched relief wash over his face, and the broadest of his smiles appeared. He wagged a finger at her, pointing like she was onto something revelatory. He closed the gap between them and held out his hand, which she took.
As they walked toward the front steps together, Joey couldn’t help but realize that this was their first time touching since their exchange in the kitchen. She was thankful for the silence, however loaded, as they walked up the steps. He pushed a door open for her, stepping back to let her through. He dropped her hand and rested his on the small of her back. It was just for the briefest of moments, but it made her take an involuntary breath in. She needed a minute to steady herself. Her heart was racing as she stepped back into the dimly lit restaurant. As her eyes began to adjust, she realized she felt lightheaded. She focused on the floor beneath her feet to steady herself, waiting by the host stand. She glanced up at the sound of the doors locking.
He turned the locks with an exaggerated flourish and a smirk, shoving a hand in his pocket as he motioned with the other to draw her attention to the bottle of red and two stemless glasses waiting for them on the bar.
Grateful for something to do, she hurried forward. “I’ll get the glasses.”
“And I’ll get the bottle,” he said unnecessarily, following close behind.
“I can’t remember the last time I sat out by the water like this,” she mused aloud, as they made their way to the outdoor seating off to the side of the restaurant. “It all seems like so long ago…” she set a glass down, offering the other one for him to fill. “How does it feel, being back?”
Pacey seemed to consider this as he tilted the bottle. She blinked with concern at his healthy pour, predicting that the second glass would not be so lucky. She had distracted him with the sudden question, and she grimaced apologetically as he pressed his lips together, tilting his head in defeat as a sad, single splash hit the bottom of the other glass.
Before she could think too much about it, she offered up some of her own, sending a small and hasty splatter to the floor.
“There. Even,” she said quickly, choosing to ignore the spill and stealing a glance at his face, just enough to catch the flicker of surprise, then gratitude at her impulsive move.
He chuckled with appreciation, reaching to pick it up. He held it up in silent cheers. They clinked glasses and took their sips, grinning nervously at each other.
Joey set her glass down and sat down, feeling too aware of her every move. She needed to relax. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back and slouched down in her chair, trying to empty her mind so that she could be present. She couldn’t succumb to exhaustion now. Clearing her mind never came easily to her, but a weary fog was creeping in through the silence. But then she listened to the ocean, and heard a gull’s cry overhead. She felt her body relax, ever so slightly.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Pacey watching her quietly, as if waiting for the right moment. She pressed her lips together in a grim smile. “I’m here now,” she whispered.
He nodded, satisfied. “It felt strange at first, realizing I was back.” He spoke as if they were mid-conversation, and his energy gave her a boost. She felt herself sit up a bit as he continued. “Back for good. Not just passing through. But then…” he tilted his head slowly to the left, then the right, as if helping the correct words fall out. “My decisions started to make more sense… The future seemed a little more clear…”
He sat back, seeming satisfied. Joey had missed the sound of his voice. She took a sip of the wine, turning his words over in her head as the warmth of the drink enveloped her heart. She looked out at the water and thought aloud. “What about out there? Do you miss it?”
She heard him inhale deeply, and glanced over quickly to make sure he was okay. To her relief, his expression remained steady. His eyes, which she’d seen darken many times before, were instead warm and bright with distant nostalgia.
“Yes and no,” he said simply.
She let this statement be. They sat in silence for a while, and it was comfortable. After a while, he leaned forward, elbows on the table. He spoke as if he had never stopped, and she found herself leaning in as well. “The restaurant’s very similar in a way. There’s so much to do, and always something to figure out. Some unexpected chaos that forces you to address it head on, with very little time to overthink anything.”
“It suits you,” Joey said, folding her arms on the table and tucking her chin in with a smile. “You were always better with a project.”
He nodded with a knowing smile, breaking eye contact to chuckle down into his glass before knocking it all back.
Joey let the weight of the silence settle over her like a blanket. She let the wine dull the edges of everything. Wearily, she figured it was only a matter of time until their conversation would drift to their shared revelation in the kitchen earlier in the day. All that had yet to be unpacked and hashed out. She wasn’t ready for all that. Not in light of everything else. The profound absence of Jen Lindley.
“Well, what about you and your projects? I imagine you’ll need to get back soon.” His tone was light, but his eyes were watching hers carefully.
“I was actually on the phone with my boss,” she replied quickly. She was surprised at her own forthcoming tone. They were falling into a comfortable rhythm. She recounted how she might have been granted a week, maybe more, so they could all figure out what was next. Life after.
“Hold on,” Joey said abruptly, reaching out to grab his wrist. Her brain had been comfortably fuzzy, but realization struck like a lightning bolt. Pacey clocked the sudden contact with perplexed amusement. “Do you have a fax machine?” She asked. “I need access to one to keep up with work.”
“I mean the office is still outfitted like it’s the 90s, so actually… yes.” His concern softened in relief. “It’s a little ornery, but it should work just fine. Is your publishing house run by dinosaurs or something?”
“It’s the agent this writer uses,” Joey said offhandedly, leaning back with relief at having checked something off her list with little effort. “I’m so happy to have Dana as a boss. They’re not all like that. The editors at the house, I mean. I got lucky with her. You’d like her, if you met her. She’d fit right in with us.” His eyes crinkled, and she couldn’t stop talking. There were years of her life that he had missed out on. Years of his that she could only speculate about, until he told her. She heard her voice as if from far away as she gushed on. “Although now that I think about it, she’s ten years older than us, so I guess it might be like having a second Bessie around… But she said the nicest things at the end of the call. I got so worked up.”
The last statement brought her back to earth. She stopped abruptly, hugging herself tight. He blinked patiently at her, spinning his empty glass on the table. His tone was gentle. “Well, what did she say?”
It was hard to say her name, but his look made her brave. “Jen… She had dropped by the office a few times, to see how the sausage was made,” Joey laughed, smiling at the memory. “Her words, not mine,” she added, noticing his nose wrinkle at the phrase. “And well… you know how Jen is… was. She left an impression and Dana reflected it back to me.”
Pacey smiled, leaning back and looking over at the clouds. He was facing the orange and pink sky, but his eyes were narrowed as if he were gazing inward. “I’m trying to picture you and Jen in a maze of desks and cubicles. After your short-lived stint in my office back in Boston, I’m imagining absolute chaos.” He chuckled wickedly, stealing a look in her direction. “But… I don’t think publishing houses are quite like that hell hole.”
“It can be quiet,” she admitted. “Like pin drop quiet. But everyone’s got their headphones in. And everyone’s busy. And I didn’t need to be an editorial assistant for very long, thank god. Dana took a liking to me right away and claimed me as her own.” She sat a little taller as she said this, and Pacey beamed. “I don’t know what I’d do without her. It’s hard to get a junior editor role. Plus with the economy…” Joey deflated a little. “Well, I mean you’ve heard it on the news. There’s always talk of restructuring. Layoffs. She’s been a fierce defender of us all.”
What had been an open and amused expression on Pacey’s face shifted to something more solemn as Joey continued to talk of work. He took a measured breath, tapping the table with his fingers. “It sounds like you’ve got a good situation in New York. Despite the overall uncertainty of the world, that is.”
“It’s what I dreamed of, back in Worthington,” she affirmed with a shrug. “And yet… when I’m here… After everything. I don’t know. It all already feels like a lifetime ago? She never once let on, Pacey.” Joey raised her voice involuntarily. “I mean am I crazy and selfish to be feeling mad at her about that? We only talked about Amy, after she was born. This all happened so fast. I’m just sitting here, thinking about that life in New York. That was when Jen was alive. And now she’s not, and we’re here, and—”
“It’s not fair,” Pacey shook his head. He glanced at her, belatedly asking permission to interrupt.
Joey shrugged listlessly, relieved to have her anxieties interrupted. She could hear the tension rising in her voice as she spoke, and she was too tired to let herself get wound up. She rolled her shoulders down with effort, and took a beat to stretch some tension out of her neck.
“When she and I spoke in the hospital, I promised her I’d spend Saturday mornings with Amy,” he said, eyes on the table, picking at the wood beneath his fingers.
Joey stared at the spot he was picking at, unseeing. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears, and feel the pressure building behind her eyes. “That’s so generous, and so good of you, Pace. That poor baby. At least I have memories of my mom. Amy’s just a baby.”
“She’ll have us,” Pacey said confidently, his eyes once again flashing over to her as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. She lifted her head, eyes widening. Her chest tightened. Were they doing this now?
He cleared his throat. “All of us, I mean,” he amended, gesturing around as if to include all of Capeside. “Jack will have custody, Dougie will be here. So will I. And before this becomes too Three Men and a Baby, there’s also Mrs. Leery or, I guess Gail now. Bessie and Bodie. I can’t imagine Grams having to move again, but I’m sure she’ll want to be close to Amy.”
“Which just leaves me,” Joey said with finality. Once again, she found herself laughing instead of crying. She recognized it now as rueful disbelief. So many years of wanting to be anywhere but Capeside, and yet here they were again.
Joey looked at Pacey, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He looked instead at a point somewhere off into the horizon. His mouth was fixed in a determined line, waiting. They had told each other the truth, not more than a few hours ago. They loved each other, but what would come next? When the silence became too much, and it was apparent she had no more words, Pacey stood and walked closer toward the boardwalk, beyond the boundary of the restaurant. He was bouncing restlessly on his feet.
“I can’t afford to keep the restaurant closed for much longer,” he said, putting a hand on the rope dividing the outdoor seating from the public boardwalk. “The staff’s been so understanding, but they can only hold out for so long. I don’t want to waste time looking for a whole new band of misfits. We’ll need to open for service tomorrow.”
Joey nodded, registering the shift in tone and energy. He was going to start pacing back and forth, any moment now. She was so tired, but forced herself to sit upright, watching him wind up.
“I headed back to the creek for a while,” she said, attempting a new path of conversation. “I got a ride back in town from Gail.”
“Forget what I said earlier. I was being a tad dramatic about the mess. You’ll just have to wait while I toss some junk out of my car, but I can give you a ride back.” He swung his leg over the rope and stepped out to face the water. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, holding a hand up to show there was no pressure.
“I don’t want to go just yet,” Joey admitted, watching him cast his eyes anywhere but her direction. “There’s still so much to figure out.”
Pacey looked back over his shoulder at her. The setting sun cast him in a silhouette that made her breath catch. He held his hand out to her again, blinking slowly, patiently. This time it was an invitation. He had the same hopeful smile that appeared earlier in the afternoon when they were talking in the kitchen. It was tentative, but his chest rose with an expectant breath.
She stood to join him, carefully stepping over the rope, using his hand for extra balance. She kept her hand in his.
“We’ve got time,” he said. He lifted an arm and pointed towards downtown. “I’ve got a tiny apartment right on Elm. It takes me ten minutes to walk from this restaurant to the place where I shower, sleep, and then come back here and do it all over again.”
He smiled. His voice was grim but his eyes danced with energy. “That’s what I have going on in my life. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I do have room for more now. Don’t get me wrong, I loved this life. I may have made some regrettable choices in the very recent past but other than that, it’s been great. I kept the rest of the Witters besides Dougie a safe distance from everything, and I got a team to help me bring this place back to life. It feels good to see it packed. After everything, all the history here… And with the popularity of The Creek, I’m not ashamed to admit it’s hard not to feel like a living legend.”
He bowed his head as if it were an effort to remain humble.
“It’s a feeling I’m sure you hate,” Joey joked with an eye roll. He laughed, letting go of her hand suddenly and reaching to pull her in closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. His eyes were searching hers, and she felt compelled to say more. “When I came back for the wedding, I was apartment-sitting for a VP, who’s currently in our London office.”
Pacey seemed surprised at this non sequitur. He narrowed his eyes at her quizzically. “Okay…”
“You mentioned your apartment, so I just wanted to tell you about mine,” she said by way of explanation, breaking free to take some steps down the boardwalk. She hugged her arms tight around herself against the breeze. “I’ve been subletting. I wanted to give Jen more space when she was pregnant with Amy, so started just drifting from crappy apartment to apartment in New York. There was one apartment where I basically slept in the living room. Believe it or not, despite my solo trip to Paris, bohemian life is no longer my cup of tea.”
“Ah, but the food in Bohemia is unrivaled,” he said, leaning forward in deference to the chefs of New York.
“The food’s not so bad here in Capeside,” she tossed back, eliciting a conspiratorial grin from Pacey.
“So I basically have everything in storage at the B & B, which Bessie likes to remind me about every three weeks… It would take me many, many years to have a space like where I was crashing, playing house with… Nevermind,” she shrugged, catching him blinking quickly at the near mention of her ex. “It had the most beautiful view. And men at the front doors just standing there with their weird hats, waiting to let you in… But the way things are going, it honestly may never happen. Everything’s just getting so expensive, and when the economy goes down, people don’t buy books, and if book sales dip, we’re the first to go. So, I suppose Mr. VP assuages his guilt by giving us lowly editors a glimpse of what could be. It’s like winning the lottery, Pacey. You should see that place.”
His eyes glittered at her reverent tone and renewed energy. She couldn’t help herself. Miraculously, she was getting a second wind.
“He has one cat you need to feed and that’s it. You just get to pretend to live in luxury for as long as he’s gone… He’s even fine with allowing guests, as long as he knows them. When I realized… I mean… When it became clear I needed to stick around here longer than I originally planned, Dana said the team had to put numbers into a hat to make it fair.”
“Reminds me of when I was living at Brecher’s,” Pacey said, making a face as if he’d rather not dwell on those days. He shivered theatrically, making her laugh.
“Do you keep in touch with him?” Joey asked.
“He reached out when he got wind of this,” Pacey said, lifting his hand to acknowledge the restaurant. “He actually had really generous and kind words for me… The man had questionable morals, but he taught me a lot. It was nice to hear from him.”
“Unfortunately, I think the ones with questionable morals teach us the most,” Joey grumbled.
“You sound like someone with experience about this particular topic,” Pacey prompted lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He bounced again on his feet. “I’m feeling like a walk, Potter. What do you say? If and when you remember how exhausted you are, say the word and we’ll turn right around.”
She pursed her lips in thought. If she were with anyone else, she would have declined without guilt. She was nearing the end of her social battery, and she knew him enough to recognize a similar weariness in his overall demeanor. However, she also knew that she’d regret it if she ended things right now.
Whatever expression her face was making was enough to encourage him, because he pressed his hands together with a nod of decision and said, “Let me clear the table and I’ll be right back. Don’t…” he held his hands out and lowered them toward her feet, as if to compel them to remain planted on the boardwalk.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, waving him off. “I don’t think my legs will take me to New York while you’re gone.”
His face cracked open into the first unburdened smile she’d seen in a long time. She felt herself breathing in deeply at the sight of it, and it was bittersweet. How could she be so sad that Jen was gone and yet so happy to be here right now?
She watched him vault the rope and reach the table in a couple quick strides. He grabbed both glasses in one hand and snagged the empty bottle with the other. It looked like a natural fluid movement, and she wondered how many tables he helped bus alongside the rest of the staff when the restaurant was at its busiest and it was an all hands on deck situation.
He disappeared behind the door at some point as she remained lost in thought. She hardly moved a muscle, thoughts racing. She made a mental to do list. Fax number. Manuscript. Amy. Jack. Grams. New York. Pacey.
The door swung open and he froze in the doorway, staring at her.
“What?” she cried, feeling heat rise up her face.
He was moving again, laughing comfortably. “I didn’t mean not to move at all.” He strode towards her, clearing the rope once more and swinging an arm around her shoulders to propel them forward with familiar ease. He brought his face close to her ear and said in a low voice, “You did remember to breathe without me, Potter?”
Joey smiled, rolling her eyes as they walked forward. His proximity made her lightheaded again, and she felt the familiar tug between irritation and adoration.
She gave herself one reassuring squeeze, then let an arm slip around him, pressing her face into his shoulder and breathing in the scent of his shirt. It was at once familiar and different. She closed her eyes and then turned to gaze toward the horizon, allowing their feet to propel them forward.
“So I was thinking…”
“Uh oh,” she teased loudly.
“I’ll ignore that because I imagine you’d appreciate this once in a lifetime offer I’m about to give. Would you want a ride here from the B & B tomorrow? You can use my office, or a corner table, or the bar–wherever you need to work. The one caveat is that it will be early, ungodly early Potter.” He emphasized this point with a wag of his finger, and her heart swelled. She resisted the urge to kiss him. “I don’t know what sort of late nights you New Yorkers have but around here we rise with the dawn and we make sure we have enough cod and potatoes to sink a ship.”
“I missed you,” she said simply, not breaking her stride.
She felt his shoulders relax at this, and the subtle change lit a tiny pilot light of peace in her center. She felt it in her heart and gut.
The sun was setting now, and the air was getting chilly. Joey felt a shiver of anticipation run through her body, from head to toe. As she glanced up to read the victorious expression on Pacey’s face, she imagined he felt the same.