Guestroom at Dawson's House (early morning)
Joey's bed is empty, yet unmade, and the sounds of the shower running are present. Her clothes are laid out on the bed, while her suitcase is packed, yet open to the side of the bed. The shower stops running.
Downstairs, Dawson is in the kitchen, making some French toast, as well as scrambled eggs and toast. He's softly smiling to himself, deep in thought. It's Joey's last day in L.A and he wants to embarrass her by bringing her breakfast. He serves the eggs on a plate, carries them on a tray, and makes his way upstairs.
A knock sounds lightly on Joey's door. She's dressed now and towel drying her hair.
"Come in, Dawson," she invites.
Dawson enters, smirking as he places the tray of breakfast goodness onto the bedside table, sweeping aside the alarm clock. He chuckles at Joey's surprise and shyness at the effort he's made.
"Dawson," she says, "what have you done? What's all this for? What have I done to deserve it?” he laughs harder. “Dawson, I'm leaving today…you don't have to do this!" Joey ends her rant this with a grin. "But hey, I won't say no to some domestic compliments in the form of food."
Joey ties the towel around her head, and sits on the edge of the bed, taking a fork. She looks at Dawson pointedly. "I'm not eating all of this alone. I stuffed myself enough from that restaurant you took me to. Remind me to not eat for a couple of days before I go there next time, okay?" She samples the French toast; eyes closed, cherishing the cinnamon sugar. "While I go up a couple of sizes, tell me what's on your mind."
Dawson hasn't stopped smiling since he entered the room. He's been waiting for Joey to see his house, his office, and what he'd made of himself. He hasn't really acknowledged to himself how important it is for him that she sees the material by-products of the work he's been doing.
He pauses, as he always does before he's about to say something important. Something that has taken time for him to work through.
"So…I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right, Jo. Working with Spielberg has been a fantasy for me for so long. Now that there's an offer on the table, I guess…well, I guess I'm just paranoid that I'll blow it somehow, and I'll be right back where I started: a 15 year old wannabe film-maker.”
(Music of the credits starts playing)
Dawson looks down, as Joey puts down the fork. Then she pats a spot on the bed by her side and he sits there. She strokes his arm, trying to comfort him.
"That's so not gonna happen. You've got the experience you need. More than enough, in TV AND in film. Spielberg has been the one to call YOU. Don't forget that. It could be amazing. You know I'm right. I got this amazing radar for talent....beep beep beep."
Joey makes a pointing motion with her finger, reaching out to touch Dawson's nose. He laughs and takes her hand in his.
“Yeah, I guess you do,” he says.
“So… you're gonna take the job?”
“I think I might.”
A big grin soon appears on Joey's face, causing Dawson to warn her.
“I said I'm thinking about it, nothing is for sure just yet,” he says, a finger up in the air.
“I know, but still,” she replies, “I know you'll make the right decision. You always do.”
And they both smile at each other.
Cut to credits.
'The Creek' offices
"This will only take a minute, Jo. I just have to drop off some script changes. Deadlines and all that," Dawson apologizes as he leads her through the busy 'Creek' offices.
"It's okay, Dawson. I understand. Besides, it's always great seeing you in your element." She spins around and stares at "The Creek" posters all over the walls. "This is all so crazy."
"You're telling me," Dawson calls over his shoulder, turning into his office.
"I'm serious, Dawson. I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud that you found a way to make our boring lives into something so wonderful. Something people can really relate to."
"Boring? I'm not sure I would call it that-"
"Hey, Dawson. Just looking for the script changes-- oh, sorry to interrupt!" Samantha says apologetically.
"That's okay, Sammy. This is Joey, my -"
"I know who she is. Hi, I'm Samantha. No one calls me 'Sammy' except him," she mock glares at Dawson before grinning at and shaking hands with Joey.
"Oh, don't let her fool you. She loves it," he laughs.
While Sam and Dawson exchanges jokes, Joey studies the girl. Tall, thin, brown hair, brown eyes, nice smile… she looks good.
"He knows I hate it. We go through this almost every day. An old boyfriend called me 'Sammy' so I have a slight aversion to nicknames," she explains to Joey.
"That wasn't me," Dawson says as he rummages through his desk.
"Oh, so you're the -" Joey begins.
"Summer fling? Yes." Samantha smiles, holding out her hand to Dawson. He places what appears to Joey to be a script in her hand. "Thanks, boss. Now, I'd better see some Sammy/Colby goodness in here. Getting caught by his parents making out, perhaps?" Samantha grins cheekily first at Joey then Dawson.
Dawson ducks his head and become enthralled with a piece of paper on his desk. Joey walks over to the desk and pulls the paper away from him. "You didn't'!"
"I did. The pressure was on for some steamy Sammy/Colby scenes so--" Dawson shrugs, his face red. "You aren't upset, are you?"
"My life has been on display for the better part of a year now. I think I'm used to it," Joey sighs and then smiles at him. Their eyes met and for a few seconds they communicate this way. Samantha clears her throat.
"Okay, well, I've got a lot to do since the boss here has been playing hooky for the past few days," she says as she heads for the door. "Oh, a few of us from work are going out to dinner. We'd love for the two of you to join us."
"Thanks but I'm going back to New York today," Joey states, moving around the desk to stand near Dawson.
"Oh, that's too bad. Dawson, what about you? We'd love if you'd join us."
"Yeah, that sounds good. Our usual restaurant?" Dawson asks.
"Yup. 8 o'clock. It was nice to meet you, Joey," she says, waving at them both.
"It was nice to meet you, too," Joey replies, feeling childish that she feels territorial all of a sudden. Dawson is, after all, allowed to have other friends.
"Bye, you two," Samantha calls out as she rushes out of the room. Joey watches her leave. They two seem to be very close and she is resisting the urge to find some way to claim Dawson as her best friend. She hugs herself and wishes for the millionth time that she didn't have to go back to New York so soon. The past few days, her life had somehow become simple. Easy. Fun. Right.
"You okay, Jo?" Dawson watches her closely.
"I'm fine. You ready to go?" Joey replies, shaking her head and touching him gently on the arm.
"Sure," he says softly. He places his hand over hers and smiles reassuringly. She instantly feels better. How can does he do that? "Want to see this season's poster?" he asks. He is suddenly enthusiastic.
"You bet." She replies.
Dawson grins and takes her hand. As he proudly shows her the advertisement for season 2, Joey can't help the somehow sad and nostalgic smile that creeps onto her face at the picture of Sammy and Colby sitting in a swing, facing each other and staring into each other's eyes. She can't help but wish she were there for all the moments in his life, big and small, as she used to be there. She wonders if he feels the same.
"I love it, Dawson," she says honestly. He just grins at her and she reluctantly ends the moment. "We should get going. My flight leaves in a little over an hour."
He nods before opening the door for her. Before he exits, he looks over his office, seeing it today under a different light for some reason. He then notices Joey waiting for him. He turns to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he closes the door.
They walk down the hallway slowly, leaning against each other and thinking their own thoughts. No words are spoken. None are needed.
Jack's apartment
The strains of Streisand´s "The Way He Makes Me Feel" filter through Jack's open-plan living room into the kitchen, where he is seated at the table, papers spread out in front of him.
'Oh why why why why oh, why is it that every time I close my eyes he's there,' Doug sings enthusiastically as he walks down the stairs, Amy resting comfortably on his hip.
Jack looks up and the two share a warm smile before Jack slowly rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the paper work in front of him.
'I'm a bundle of confusion yet it has a strange appeal,' Doug hums more softly as he sits Amy gently down on the floor.
'You know, Babs' music is not really my thing, but you almost make it beautiful.' Jack shoots a cheeky smile at Doug.
“I can only hope that one day, one day you will be able to appreciate the magic of the diva.”
“Well, maybe if you spent more time instructing me on the magic of the diva, the day of appreciation would come sooner.” Jack pauses in his work as his tone turns serious.
“I've got you now,” Doug lunges after Amy as she crawls quickly around the chair. She dissolves into giggles as Doug lifts her high in the air.
“Sorry, Jack. What was that?”
Jack's face softens as looks at Doug grinning broadly, a flushed Amy burrowing into his broad shoulder.
“I said that maybe I could come to learn to love your taste in music if you were around more often.”
“Jack, I'm here when I can. We are both so busy and sometimes… well, sometimes I like to give you, Amy and Grams a little bit of space. You know, family time.”
“Doug. Come on. I mean, look at you with Amy. She is just so comfortable with you. She loves you. We all do. You are part of this family.”
Doug slowly sits down, Amy still in his arms.
“What exactly are you trying to say Jack?” Doug asks although he knows the answer perfectly well. It was just the other day that he brought the subject up once again, although they didn't really finished the conversation.
Jack leans across the table and covers Doug's hand with his own.
“I know we have talked about this already, but excuse me if I love you too much to stop trying." Doug eyes him with sympathy and love, and doesn't know what to say. "What I'm saying, Doug, is that I would like you to move in with me, with us, with your family.'
Doug's eyes widen and he pauses before responding.
“Look, Jack. I love you, I really do. But moving in together is not a good idea. Not just yet. Mostly because for us there are things to think about, like Amy and...'
Jack waves a hand impatiently. “Doug, we love each other. I just think that this is the obvious next step and a step I want to take. I need you with me. I WANT you with me. I've tried to be patient, but it's just not working.”
Doug shakes his head. “I don't know. It feels a bit too rushed to me.”
“Rushed? We've been together for more than a year now.”
“I'm still getting used to all of this, Jack. It's not as easy for…” Doug's voice trails away as a loud banging commences at the door, followed closely by the ring of the doorbell.
“Hold that thought,” Jack says, holding up a finger and moves through the living room to open the front door.
“Pacey. Come on in.”
“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” Pacey grins. “I did see my brother's car in the drive and oh, yes there's his god awful music.”
“Nothing that can't wait,” Jack says as he and Pacey walk into the kitchen.
“After all, I wouldn't want to rush anyone,” he finishes with a look at Doug, who sighs in defeat.
Pacey looks at his brother and then back at Jack.
“Okaaaay then…”
Jack's kitchen
“Ah, I thought I heard someone at the front door. Hello, Pacey Witter.”
Grams enters the kitchen from the side entrance, smoothing hair back from her face and giving a ready smile for the men and baby girl gathered around the table.
“GaGa,” Amy twists around on Doug's lap reaching for her great-grandmother.
“Just a minute, darling. Grams has to wash her hands first. She's been working with the pretty flowers in the garden.”
The kitchen tap sputters into life, the noise of the water briefly masking the disappointed whimper of Amy.
“Here, Gorgeous, come to Uncle Pacey.” Pacey reaches over his brother and lifts Amy out of Doug's lap. “Look in here,” he says tugging slightly at the front pocket of his shirt.
Amy, warming to the spirit of the game, pulls the pocket open and reaches in. Beaming triumphantly, she pulls out a large piece of candy.
“Nice one, Pacey.” Jack quickly opens the refrigerator door and takes out a container of fruit salad.
Pacey looks momentarily concerned. “What? What did I do wrong?”
“Here, sweetie. Look, banana. Your favourite.” Jack attempts to take the candy away from Amy offering a piece of banana at the same time.
Amy pouts slightly but reaches for the fruit and soon forgets about the candy, which is swiftly hidden in the cupboard by Jack.
“Oh, they've started you on a diet already, have they?” Pacey tickles Amy under the chin.
Doug stands up from the table. “Not a diet, little brother. Just healthy and normal food for a one-year old. Candy comes much, much later.”
“Listen to you. Anyone would think you were the Father of the Year with the amount of stuff you keep spouting about child raising.”
Doug ignores Pacey and turns to Grams. “Grams, do you need that wheelbarrow put away now?”
“Why, yes thankyou, Douglas. There are some tools that have to be put back in the shed as well, if that's not too much trouble.”
“Not a problem. I am happy to contribute in even a small way to the masterpiece that you have managed to create out of Jack's front yard.” Doug smiles and touches Grams' arm briefly as he opens the side door.
Jack looks at Amy happily smearing pieces of banana on Pacey´s shirt and Grams, humming to herself as she makes a cup of tea.
“Um, I might just give Doug a hand.” He quickly follows Doug out of the kitchen.
Pacey watches thoughtfully as Jack disappears. He soon turns his attention to Amy who has wriggled out of arms and is busy toddling around the table to get to Grams.
“Where are you going young lady? Look at this mess you've left behind.”
Grams chuckles as she reaches over to hand Pacey a napkin. “Isn't she a handful? Such a delight though and so like her mother at this age.” Her eyes mist as she picks up Amy and snuggles her on her lap.
Pacey takes a chair and clears some of Jack's paperwork at the table to make room for his elbows. “Well, then Jen must have been a beautiful baby.”
“She was. She was--' Grams is silent before she brightens and says quickly. “Well, this is nice of you to visit. I feel as though we haven't caught up in quite some time. How is your restaurant?”
Pacey takes a moment to respond. “All right. There have been a few little problems but nothing that can't be sorted out in time.”
Grams looks at Pacey shrewdly. “And?”
Pacey chuckles wryly. “No one can ever hide anything from you, can they?”
“I've been around long enough to know when there's something on a young man's mind.”
“Well, there is something and I could certainly use your advice, Mrs Ryan.”
Grams waves her hand. “I have finally convinced your brother to relax with formality and I'd appreciate it if you called me Grams as well. I've been through so many of your dramas of growing up and all you children,” Grams smiles, “sorry, young men and women were like my Jennifer's family.”
Pacey nods. “I'm touched that you think of us in that way,” he pauses, “Grams.”
Grams releases a squirming Amy onto the ground where she crawls to a collection of stacking cups. “So, what is it that is troubling you Pacey?”
“Um, I don't know if anything should be troubling me. Something really great has happened. I've been offered a job running a restaurant in New Orleans. More than running it if all goes well. There's a good chance that I could end up owning it.”
Grams eyebrows arch in surprise and her face breaks into a broad smile. “What a wonderful opportunity. I can see that New Orleans would give you some valuable experience, experience that you may not get in a small town like Capeside.”
Pacey spreads his hands eagerly. “Yes. Exactly! I'd almost be a fool not to go.”
Grams' eyes rest on Pacey. “So why do you need my advice young man?”
Los Angeles Airport
The airport bustles with noise and movement, much like it did on the day she arrived. Joey and Dawson sit silently together at the gate, waiting for the boarding call.
“So,” Joey finally says, breaking the silence. “What's up with you and Samantha?”
Dawson looks up at her, surprised. This is not really a topic he feels like getting into right before she's about to get on a plane. And why is she asking that anyway?
'Nothing,” he stammers out. “We're just friends.”
Joey senses Dawson's confusion and desire to talk about anything else and although her curiosity is piqued by Samantha, she decides to let well enough alone. “So have you finally made a decision about the job offer?”
“No pressure, huh?” he jokes. Dawson takes a good look at his best friend, taking in the hopeful expression on her face, the pros and cons swirling around in his head again.
This offer really is the job of a lifetime, but it may mean that his show has to take a backseat for a while. Which could actually be a good thing, considering the stressed days at the studio, the arguments with the writers, the tension and the tiredness at the end of each day. He fears that he's becoming to tied up in the personal nature of the show, that he needs to take a step back and try something else for a while. Might give him some creative inspiration for another project.
Then there is his family, whom he hasn't spent more than a few days with in over 3 years. His mother would relish the chance to see him more, as would Lily. She's always making him feel guilty with those big eyes of hers when he tells her he's only staying in Capeside for a few days.
Dawson looks at Joey once again, remembering their childhood days and his dreams, dreams of wanting to be like Spielberg and to rule Hollywood. As Joey told him just two days ago, he has this chance to make these dreams come true now, so why not take the job? And then there is the prospect of living in the same city as Joey again.
In the end, the decision is easy.
“Yes, I am.”
There is a squeal, and moments later Joey is in his arms. Dawson is startled at first, but then finds himself hugging her back, slightly amused at her reaction. As they pull away, the look on Joey's face tells Dawson he has definitely made the right decision.
“This is so exciting!” she tells him, grinning madly. “You have to call me this week so we can find you a place to live.”
Dawson raises on eyebrow at her, “You think I'd trust you to pick out a place for me?”
“Thanks a lot,” Joey slaps him playfully on the arm. “Well, then you at least have to let us take you out for dinner. I can't wait to show off my knowledge of obscure New York eateries to you.”
"Us?" he asks, smiling calmly at her. "Does Pacey spend a lot of time in New York?"
Joey gives Dawson a curious look, unable to decipher the strange quality in his tone of voice. Or is just her imagination? "Yeah, he comes as often as he can. He'll be stoked when he finds out you're moving to New York."
Dawson is silent for a moment, which only makes Joey feel more uneasy. What if he's not ok with this? He's known for months that Pacey and Joey were a couple, but maybe the thought of having to see them together again… maybe it makes him nervous or something?
It does. More than nervous. Dawson is afraid that maybe he is not as okay with it as he pretends to be. It's one thing to know that Pacey and Joey are together, but he know it'll be a completely different thing to actually see them together. Especially now, as adults. But Pacey is his friend, one of his best friends. Despite everything they've been through he would do anything for Pacey. In the end, he needs to put his desire to reconnect with these lost years above any personal doubts he may have about his own ability to process Pacey and Joey. Been there, done that before, anyway.
Joey sighs in relief as Dawson smiles widely at her. For a moment she'd been fearful he was upset about something. "I can't wait to spend time with you guys," Dawson tells her, happily.
Just then, a voice over the PA announces boarding beginning on Joey's flight. They both look up at the speakers to listen, then face each other again.
“Well,” Joey says, hoisting her carry on bag over her shoulder. “Time to say goodbye, I guess.”
“Why is it that we always seem to have big, painful goodbye scenes in airports?” Dawson asks with a slow smile, his dimples showing.
Joey laughs, “I don't know, but at least this one is a small, non-painful goodbye.”
“That it is,” Dawson reaches over and pulls her in for a hug. They stand together for a moment, hugging tightly, trying to delay the inevitable moment when they will have to say goodbye for real.
Eventually, they separate and Joey walks towards the gate. “I'll call you on Wednesday, I promise,” Joey calls to him as she hands the attendant her boarding pass.
Dawson smiles at her and waves, “I'll look forward to it.”
Neither of them looks away until Joey is out of sight.
Jack's Yard
Jack and Doug are in the garden together. As promised to Grams, Doug is moving the wheelbarrow when Jack approaches him. After a moment of silence where he just watches him, he starts to help him.
“So tell me once again, why don't you want to move in?” Jack asks, moving the thing along with Doug.
Doug doesn't answer for a moment, just continues to put things away. “I think we need to talk about it some more before we decide what we're doing,” he finally says.
Jack sighs and Doug begins to move the garden tools back into the shed.
“What do we need to talk about? We're a family, Doug. It's time we all lived together.”
“But that's the thing Jack. We're not a family yet. You and Amy are. I'm not part of it. And until the social workers get of your case, I don't think it's a good idea to throw me into the mix.”
Jack stares at Doug in disbelief, “I thought you wanted to raise her with me? You told me yourself you wanted us to all be together.”
“And I do, I want that more than anything,” Doug explains quickly, trying to help Jack understand what he's trying to say. “It's just that you still have a lot of legal stuff to get through before this deal is finalised and I don't want to jeopardize that in any way.” He pauses for a breath. “You know how messy these things can be, we're already had social workers calling. These people are going to examine every aspect of your life to determine if you're a suitable parent for her, and I think that will go better if we're not living together.”
“That's not going to happen,” Jack turns back to the house, starting to walk in that direction, but then he stops and turns around to face Doug again. “What happened the other night was nothing, I over reacted. Amy is going to be my daughter legally very soon, and eventually yours as well. It's what Jen wanted, she signed the papers before she died. It's what's going to happen.”
Jack looks at his boyfriend, hoping to see some hope and trust in his face.
“I hope so Jack,” Doug begins, “and I think that's all true, but there is still a chance that - ”
“Look, forget I said anything,” Jack cuts Doug off mid sentence. “If you're not ready step out of the closet entirely, then I'll just have to wait, I guess.” Jack turns on his heels and heads back inside the house.
“Jack, wait!” Doug calls after him but Jack doesn't turn or stop. He sighs, then follows Jack in the direction of the house.
Jack's kitchen
Grams takes a sip of her tea and looks at Pacey who is staring at a sheaf of Jack's papers.
“Well, what is it that is holding you back from this new job?”
Pacey looks up uncertain where to start. “New Orleans is a long way from here.”
Grams nods. “It certainly is further away than New York.”
Pacey gives a half smile. “It certainly is.”
Grams puts down her cup of tea and looks seriously at Pacey. “Pacey, you asked me for my advice and so I am going to give it. Two pieces of advice actually. First, deciding to take this job is your decision and yours alone to make.”
Pacey makes a quick movement. “But Joey –“
Grams holds up a warning finger. “Second, I want you to always remember that you can never be responsible for anther person's happiness or rely on them to make you happy. The choice for happiness is your own. You need to make yourself happy before being able to truly give to another human being.”
Pacey is momentarily stunned.
“What? Not the advice you were after Pacey Witter?”
Shaking his head slowly, Pacey replies, “No, it's just that what you said, well it's almost word for word something Jen told me just before… um, just before she died.”
Grams smiles and there is a hint of a twinkle in her eye. “Well, what do you know? That girl must have listened to something I taught her over all those years.”
Amy crawls over to Pacey´s chair and tugs on his leg.
“Pacey,” Grams says.
Pacey looks down and reaches for Amy, pulling her onto his lap. “'Sorry, honey. What have you got there?” Amy holds a tattered book in her hand and looks expectantly at Pacey. “Oh, a book. You want a story. Okay. Jimmy went to stay at Grandma's farm and what did he see?”
Amy has already lifted the flap revealing a cow and turns to Pacey awaiting the familiar sound.
“Moo. The cow says moo,” Grams supplies helpfully as Pacey continues to absent-mindedly stare at the page.
Amy clumsily turns the page to reveal a sheep, and turns again to Pacey.
“Baa baa. It's a sheep,” Grams says from across the table.
Wriggling down from Pacey´s lap, Amy walks around the furniture to Grams.
“You're right. You are absolutely right,” Pacey suddenly announces, although he is still pensive. “I know what I have to do.”
The kitchen door opens and Jack and Doug walk in, their faces solemn.
“Pacey, I'm surprised you're still here.”
Jack washes his hands at the sink and then leans against the kitchen bench.
Pacey looks at his watch.
“Oh, yeah. I'd better get going. I still need to stop by the bar before I leave.”
“What's the rush?” asks Grams.
“Joey flies in from L.A. tonight,” answers Doug drying his hands.
“Which means,” says Pacey leaning down to kiss Amy on the cheek, 'I'd better leave now if I wanna be there in time.”
Dawson's house in L.A.
Dawson's car pulls up in his driveway under a beautiful blue sky. It's evening and he just made it home after a meeting with the network heads. The door opens and Dawson steps out, grabbing a briefcase from the passenger side of the car. Pushing the car door shut behind him, he presses the central locking button on his set of keys and walks swiftly up the set of steps to the front door and inserts the house key into the lock.
Dawson enters the house and places his briefcase on a table in the hall. He walks through into the kitchen and gets a bottle from the refrigerator. Standing in the middle of the kitchen he looks around the quiet space in a different way now that he knows he is leaving soon. After a moment he tugs out his shirt he walks back across the hall to his living room.
Standing quietly, he takes in the stillness and emptiness of the house and then takes a seat on the sofa. He looks vaguely out the window, swigging occasionally from the bottle in his hands.
The shrill ring of a cell phone shatters the silence. He reaches into his top pocket, flips his phone open and holds it to his ear.
“Hello? Dawson Leery speaking. Hi Samantha. Oh, I dropped her off a few hours ago now. It was great seeing her again.” The warmth is evident in Dawson's voice.
'Yeah, I'm still up for dinner. You know there's nothing ever really edible here.” Dawson laughs. “I know. I know.” He looks at his watch. “Ok. I'll pick you up at seven. Come on, you only need minutes to make yourself look pretty.” He laughs again. “Great. Bye.”
He reaches over and puts the phone down on the side table. Taking another drink from the bottle, he notices a delicate hair clip caught on the sofa cushion next him.
Dawson pulls it gently off and looks at it, taking in the beauty of the design. He smiles and still holding it in his hand, stands up and walks past the side table and picks up the phone.
He slips the hair clip into the pocket of his trousers and deftly pressing some buttons on the phone, walks quickly up the stairs. Walking down the hall and into his room Dawson's eyes are bright and he is still smiling as he takes a shirt off a hanger in his walk-in-robe.
“Hey, Jo. It's me. Just checking in on you. Making sure you arrived safely.” He stands unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. “You just landed? Yeah, well I miss you already. How was the flight?” He shrugs off his shirt and starts putting on the fresh one. “Oh, before I forget. You left something here. Nah. Just a hair clip. Well, yes I will be able to deliver it in person soon. Thanks for reminding me. I know. It hasn't sunk in yet.”
Dawson chuckles warmly. “Your excitement is catching, Jo. I know. We haven't really lived in the same town for years. I promise you that I will embarrass you in front of all your friends.” He grins broadly. “Yeah now that you mention it, I'm sure Pacey has beaten me to it. Alright. See you, Jo. Oh, and Jo? Thanks for everything.”
Dawson flips the phone shut and slides it into his trouser pocket. Neatly buttoning his fresh shirt, he grabs a jacket from his robe, glances quickly in the mirror and runs down the steps back into the hall.
He picks up his keys lying on the hall table and the front door shuts with a bang behind him.
New York's downtown.
The interior of Pacey´s car is filled with the sounds of Elvis' Viva Las Vegas.
Pacey is singing loudly and enthusiastically, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel in rhythm to the music.
'There's a thousand pretty women waitin' out there
And they're all livin' devil may care
And I'm just the devil with love to spare
Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas.'
He continues his makeshift drumming as he pulls the car up to a red-lit intersection.
Outside his passenger window, the darkness of the night is largely dispelled by the abundance of New York City's artificial lighting.
He looks at the car's control panel, noting the time gleaming brightly on the digital display. Quickly calling a number on the car's hands-free phone kit, Pacey turns down the music.
“Hi, Sean? Yeah, it's Pacey. Listen, man. I don't think I'll be able to catch up with you this week. I'm in New York at the moment. Joey's back from L.A.” The light turns green and Pacey continues through the intersection.
“You don't know what you're talking about. She doesn't have me wrapped around her finger. I've just been busy so I haven't been able to go out with the guys. Is that a crime?” He doesn't think it is. It's true that since starting to date Joey, he hasn't been able to hang out with them as often as before. But hey, who can blame a men for wanting to spend time with his girlfriend?
“Nah, it's not that she doesn't like you-“ Now he's lying and he knows it. He knows that Joey finds them vulgar and boring. And yes, that is also part of the reason why he hasn't seen them that much.
“Hey, watch it. I'm no one's puppy dog, thanks. It's not my fault you've never been in love so you don't know how it feels, loser.” He laughs softly at something Sean says on the other side of the phone.
“With me? That I sound worried? I don't know, nothing's wrong with me, everything is okay. Well, probably a couple of days. Hey great idea. I'd love to catch a game. I'll go this time, I promise. Nah. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of the tickets. Okay. See ya.”
He presses a button on the phone ending the call and turns up the music.
'If I wind up broke up well
I'll always remember that I had a swingin' time
I'm gonna give it ev'rything I've got
Lady luck please let the dice stay hot.'
As Pacey sings these words, he enters the familiar street that leads to Joey's apartment building and the lyrics die in his mouth.
Jack and Grams' house.
After dinner, Doug is getting ready to head home for the night. He has Amy in his arms and he is talking quietly to her, making her giggle. Jack is picking up Amy's toys off of the floor, putting them into the large basket, which lives in the corner of the room.
“I'm sorry about our argument earlier, Jack,” Doug says. Jack pauses for a moment then keeps going about his task, but doesn't say anything. “I'm glad we both agree that this isn't a good time to move in together.”
Jack straightens up and looks at Doug, his expression unreadable. “We didn't agree, you agreed. I'd like to point out that I still want you to move in.” Jack goes back to picking up toys.
Doug watches him for a moment, “I know you do. It's just not the right time at the moment.” Grams enters the room and Doug hands Amy to her. “G'night Grams.” He moves over to Jack who pauses for a minute and allows Doug to kiss him in the cheek. “I'll see you tomorrow,” he tells Jack, trying to get their eyes to meet.
“Good night, Doug,” Jack says in a flat tone. Doug sighs, then makes his way out the front door.
Jack tosses a brightly colored block into the basket then collapses onto the couch. Grams comes and sits next to him, Amy climbing over her lap into Jack's. Jack cuddles her little body close to him.
“Are you and Doug fighting, Jack?” Grams asks, breaking the silence. Jack looks at her, then back at Amy.
“He doesn't want to move in with me and I'm upset about it. If you want to call that a fight, go ahead.”
Grams is silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next. She loves Jack as much as she loved her own flesh and blood grandchild and she would do anything for him. But she also has grown to love Doug in her own way and all she wants is for both of them to be happy.
“Do you remember when you first started seeing him?” she asks finally.
Jack pauses for a moment, his gaze focused on a spot on the opposite wall. “What do you mean?”
“For so long you'd tell me about how frustrated you were that he was holding back. It took him months to even admit to you his sexuality and even longer to do so to the rest of Capeside. You weren't too happy about that.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Jack says somewhat coldly. “What does that have to do with this?”
“Do you remember how happy you were when he finally came to you and told you he loved you? That he wanted to be with you?” Jack doesn't answer. “You'd given up hope of anything ever happening between the two of you but when you let things take their natural course, he came around in his own time.”
Jack fidgeted, hitching Amy high up onto his lap, still not looking at Grams. “I still don't see your point.”
“Give Doug time, Jack. He'll change his mind. Just like he did before.”
Jack sighs, “You're right, I know. But a part of me just wants us to live happily ever after and can't accept that he's more scared of this than I am.”
“You just wait, Jackers,” Grams said jovially, using the pet name she knew Jen had used for him. “Give him a few weeks and you'll both be fighting over closet space.”
Jack laughed, “Literally speaking.” They descend into silence again as Jack softly rubs Amy's back. During their conversation the little girl has started to fall asleep. Jack looks down at her head, nestled closely against his shoulder, and leans down to kiss her. Sometimes, like tonight, he can't remember what he ever did without her in his life.
“Do you think I'm doing the right thing?” he asks Grams. “Raising her with Doug.”
Grams looks at Jack with a look that is a mixture of horror and surprise. “How can you even question that, Jack. You know what Jennifer wanted for Amy. She told you herself.”
“She told me that she wanted Amy to feel loved, to know that she fitted in. She never specified what that meant.”
“Jack, you know she meant for you and Doug to raise her. She told me that you were the obvious choice because Amy was probably the only child you two would ever have. How can you question if you're doing the right thing?”
“The social workers are,” Jack said matter-of-factly.
“The social workers don't know you, Jack. They don't see you two together.” Grams watches as Jack nestles his cheek against Amy's sleeping head. “Nothing bad is going to happen to her. We won't let it happen.”
“I want to believe that Grams, I really do,” Jack lifts his head up to look at her and Grams is saddened to see tears glistening on his cheeks. “But I'm scared that in the end, I'm going to fail her. And I don't know how I'll live with that.”
Grams leans over and the three of them hug. “I think you're worrying for nothing. But, whatever happens Jack, I'll always be there for you.”
Jack only nods, unable to say anything more.