Teaser - Capeside cemetery
Fallen leaves cover the ground and a group of people walk forward, going somewhere. Slowly, they circle a headstone.
("Somewhere over the rainbow", from Finding Forrester OST starts playing in the background)
Jack is holding Amy, who is holding some pretty little flowers in her hands. Slowly, Jack gets down on one knee and holding Amy’s hand, he motions her to leave them on the grave. Amy gives a couple of tentative steps and so she does, with a serious expression on her face. Then her gaze returns to Jack, who pulls her lovingly into his embrace and kisses her forehead slowly under the gaze of the rest of the group.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dreamed of
Once in a lullaby
As he takes a step back to stand in the circle, Andie steps forward to leave some more flowers on the grave, which bares the inscription, 'Jennifer Lindley (1984 - 2008)'. She then returns to her position, by Pacey's side, with a calm but sad smile on her face. She remembers the wild girl that Jen used to be. She sees her so clearly. Short, spiky blond hair and a provocative attitude. And her big, big heart. She remembers that night they went skating with Joey - Jen racing all over the rink. And that’s the way she will always remember her... young and free.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Blue birds fly
And the dreams that you dreamed of
Dreams really do come true
By her side is Pacey. His face is somber and his mind seems to be light years away. He thinks back on the day they hopped in his boat and got caught in the storm. He remembers how scared she was and the conversation they had. He remembers Jen trying to look brave even though she was terrified. So was he. But they had helped each other get through it as they sat there, in a friendly and comfortable embrace. A slow smile curls his lips. Jen, always the brave one. Probably the only one in the group who was brave enough to live life to its full potential, with the good and the bad, till the very end. ‘Hey Jen,’ he thinks, ‘don’t forget us.’
Someday I'll wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney tops that’s where you'll find me
Standing next to him is Grams. Her face is maybe the most serene of them all. She knows that Jen is happy now and watching over them from above. She looks up to the sky as she remembers Jen’s laughter, her soft voice. She remembers Jen’s defiant ways when she arrived to Capeside. "I’ll go to church when you say penis."
Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I?
A small laugh escapes Grams’ throat but no one else notices, all of them lost in their own memories. She puts a hand over her heart and looks at the grave again with a smile lingering in her lips as another image comes to her mind when her gaze diverts to Jack and Amy: the sweet picture of her granddaughter and her newborn baby. Her flushed but radiant face, her enormous grin as she introduced Amy to her in the hospital room with tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, my darling, I miss you so…’ she thinks, tears welling in her eyes.
Well I see trees of green and
Red roses too,
I'll watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Next in the circle is Dawson. He stands with his hands in his pockets. He appears contemplative and doesn’t even notice the soft wind blowing, moving the leaves around, caressing the stone. His mind goes back to that day, years ago, when he and Jen said their goodbyes in front of her door. For some reason, this memory comes to him at that moment.
"You got five minutes?" he had asked.
"For you? Always," she had grinned.
And then they had hugged. He couldn’t help but smile. As the memory of the two them brushing their teeth in front of a mirror hits him, he puts his hands deeper in his pockets and smiles even more widely. Jen. His crazy, sweet, shameless and strong Jen. His gaze goes now from the grave to the people surrounding it. He feels she’s there with them and after noticing the breeze on his face, he suddenly knows she is.
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying, I...I love you
Joey is by his side, her hands in her pockets as well, but her eyes, unlike the rest of the people in the group, are full of tears. She seems to be about to cry. Her memories are not so much of the teenager Jen, whom she hated for a long time, but the young woman that was her friend. They met in New York quite frequently and she remembers Jen taking her all over town, laughing and showing her the New York life, introducing her to the city she loved with all of her heart. Everything she knew about New York was because of Jen. She had probably been, besides Audrey, her only true girlfriend. Given how everything had turned out, she regrets that they drifted apart so much in the past few years.
And now Jen was gone. Just then, Amy makes a noise and Joey looks over at her. She notices her blonde hair, so much like her mother’s. "I like your hair. What number is that?" She smiles while a tear rolls down her cheek. And as she watches Amy, she knows Jen is there.
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,
They'll learn much more
Than we'll know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Jack rocks Amy lightly in his arms, still looking at Jen’s grave. But Amy shifts in his arms, uneasy. He notices her pointing to something behind his back. Jack turns around and looks over his shoulder, searching for Doug, whom Amy is probably reaching for.
But he stands rooted in his spot when, instead of spotting his boyfriend, he sees a blond young woman leaning against a tree. She’s wearing jeans and a flowing yellow blouse that, combined with her blond hair, gives her an ethereal presence. She has her arms crossed over her chest and is smiling at him. He notices Amy babbling some words and reaching her arms out in the same direction. “Jen?” he breathes.
Someday I'll wish upon a star,
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top that's where you'll find me
But as quickly as she appeared, she is gone. Jack breathes slow and deep, still stunned. He sees Doug walking towards them and a slow smile curls his lips. Looking over at Amy, he sees her still gazing at the same spot as before, sucking on her thumb. Jack closes his eyes and kisses the top of her head, still smiling.
Oh, somewhere over the rainbow way up high
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I?
CREDITS
Still at the cemetery....
"You coming?" Pacey starts to back away, playing with his car keys, his eyes fixed on Dawson and Joey, who are not moving backwards but forwards, deeper into the cemetery. He can see clearly that Joey is holding Dawson’s hand behind her back. Andie and Audrey are walking back to the car, arm in arm. Jack and Doug are swinging Amy between them, heading toward their car. Grams follows quietly.
Dawson turns around to explain but Pacey already knows and Dawson doesn’t need to say a word. He puts his hand up, and smiles, understanding. "See you guys later."
Dawson just nods and Joey sends Pacey a look of gratitude. She then tugs on Dawson’s hand and they walk south past the Capeside Cemetery flower garden to where Lillian Potter and Mitch Leery are buried.
"Oh look, flowers," Joey points to her mother’s grave. Indeed, there is a bouquet of tulips lying next to the etched words. Joey guesses Bessie put them there before leaving on her honeymoon with Bodie.
"They look like flowers from Bessie’s garden," Dawson says quietly.
"Yeah," Joey smiles fondly. "She comes here once a month, at least. She has for the past…God…fifteen years."
"It's funny how fast time flies, isn’t it?" Dawson asks thoughtfully. He still remembers the night Joey’s mom died. He remembers the confused and hurt look on Joey’s face when the doctor gave them the definitive news. How she left the room practically running and how he went after her.
Joey is staring at her mother’s grave, almost mesmerized. "Thank God for photographs," she looks up at Dawson. "Otherwise I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to remember exactly what she looked like…I mainly remember what she smelled when she hugged me."
"What did she smell like?" Dawson gazes at Joey. He can see Lillian in some of Joey’s features. Although he had only been thirteen when Lillian had died, he too had pictures and a solid, though faded, memory of Joey’s mother. And even though it was Bessie that looked more like her, Joey also had her mother in her.
"Something…earthy. You know how your mom smells like musky perfume...like, Opium? My mother smelled…natural, like clean laundry or something."
Dawson smiles at her description. He then says, "Has anyone ever told you that you have your mom’s cheekbones?"
Joey is surprised by Dawson’s observation but she's pleased that he remembered, and it shows. Her face glows and her eyes light up. "Really?"
"Yeah. And her hair." He reaches out, and brushes his hand gently, gingerly over her hair, which is loosely pinned back. Strands escape and fly around her face and for a moment she is trapped in his gaze.
"Do you mind if…I talk to mom alone for a moment?" Joey then asks, shyly. She knows she shouldn’t but she feels funny talking to a gravestone in front of someone, even if that someone is Dawson.
"Of course." Dawson offers her a smile and pulls away from her, walking off to the side, towards a large maple tree. There are some other gravestones under the tree, dating back to 1809. Death is all around them. Dawson is both rapt with this thought and moved by the gentle sound of Joey talking to her mother. He turns to see her, and sees her bending over and placing a few zinnias next to the tulips, moving her hands as she speaks. He wonders what she is saying, but doesn’t want to eavesdrop. So he just leans against the tree, his hands in his pockets, just watching her. He likes seeing her face so animated and wistful.
"Your favorites," she says as she places the flowers carefully on the ground. Then she looks around her. "Today is such a beautiful day," she says, contently, before she says what she really wants to say. "Dad is back, you know? And I think this time is for real. I want to believe that it’s for real anyway," she continues.
"I’m still living in New York mom. I love it there.” She smiles sweetly “My job is great, although, I’m starting to feel the need to do something else. I want to get back to some of the things I used to enjoy. Or maybe search for something new. I don’t know. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for, I guess. I’ll know when I do. That’s how it always works, doesn’t it? And sometimes, you just realize that it had always been right there in front of you." She pauses again. "I miss you and I need you so much, Mom. I wonder so often lately how different my life would be had you not died. Would I be the mess I am? The mess I used to be?" She glances around as she ponders her thoughts.
"Bessie is a great sister but I really need your advice, mostly in this crazy thing people call love. Because I keep messing it up and hurt people in the process… and I’m so tired of doing that." She pauses for a moment, her gaze now transfixed on the headstone in front of her. "And your words keep coming back to me, Mom. Keep the ones from your childhood close to you, for no one will ever love you the way they do." She looks over her shoulder at Dawson, who is watching her pensively. "And it's true. Thank you," she finally whispers, her voice charged with emotion.
After a few more moments, Joey straightens up, brushing off her knees. She kisses her fingers and touches the headstone for a moment. She turns and breathes deeply, before smiling brilliantly at Dawson and holding her arm out. "Let’s go."
Returning her smile, they link arms and head for Mitch Leery's grave.
Downtown, The Icehouse
Mike Potter is standing in front of the building that was the property of his family years ago. The building he almost burnt down. It seemed like so long ago, yet like yesterday at the same time. Walking to the entrance, he removes his hands from the front pockets of his jacket and pushes the door open. People are filling the place, having the last drink with friends before they head home for Thanksgiving dinner. He spots Pacey behind the bar, talking to a young man, gesturing with his hands as if giving instructions. He had probably just arrived as his coat is still on. Mike walks toward him and it's then that Pacey notices he has arrived.
"Okay Lance, that’s all," Pacey says, patting the waiter’s back. "We’ll talking more later." And with that, and a nod to Mike, Lance leaves.
Pacey takes his coat off while he walks out from behind the bar. He shakes Mike’s hand. "Well, welcome, Mike. Are you ready for the big tour?" he asks brightly, leaving his jacket on the counter.
"Sure, lead the way," Mike replies, smiling at him.
"Well, this is the main dining area, as you can see," Pacey explains as he rubs his hands, walking by Mike’s side. "As you know, we also have some space outside and we utilize it when weather permits. Well, we used to at least. We're still waiting for the permit so we can renovate it," he coughs, knowing full well why they still don't have the damn permit. “Next is the kitchen."
Mike follows him, looking around the restaurant as they walk. He is met with some curious looks but he just nods his head in their direction. Very few people look away. The greatest part of them nod back. Mike knows he is being observed. The convict back in town, finally stepping out of his self-imposed isolation. He squares his shoulders though and decides not to let it bother him. It will take time for people to forget who he once was. That is, if they ever forget. But he knew all this before he came back.
"So…," Pacey is saying as he holds the kitchen door open. "This is the kitchen. I rebuilt it and added the latest equipment. It’s my pride and joy. I love spending time in here." Pacey looks around with a satisfied smile on his face. "Being a chef myself, I think it's important to have the right elements so we can offer some of the best food in town. Along with Gale’s business, of course."
"Yeah, I wanted to talk about that. How is the competition?"
"Well, this is a small town and people here are creatures of habit. It wasn’t that hard to win them back. It seems like they had been missing the Ice House, whether they had been fond of it before or not. So they came back, even if just out of curiosity. Now we have a lot of very regular clients. Plus, this is the meeting point for all the people who watch Dawson’s show and love to see their city represented on TV."
Mike chuckles. "Yeah, the posters plastered all over might have something to do with that."
"Yeah, that was Joey’s idea. So… basically that’s it," Pacey grins as they finish their tour of the kitchen and head to Pacey's office in the back. "Except… well, of course there is something you need to know before you make a decision." He coughs. "We’re having certain problems because… well, I screwed up," he blurts out. "I had an affair with a married woman and her husband, of course, wasn’t happy about it when he found out. So since then, he has been causing trouble with the business and permits because, much to my dismay, he seems to have a few contacts in town. So…"
Mike shakes his head and looks at Pacey, who seems to be waiting for his response.
"Look Pacey, I have no right to judge you. And that is not gonna change my opinion about this place. I’m gonna be honest. Since you asked me about it last week, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And after what I’ve seen now, I do want to accept your offer. About that guy, don’t worry. I know how to deal with those kind of people. Without creating more trouble, of course," he quickly adds, raising his hands when he sees Pacey's brow furrow a little with concern.
"Okay then. So…"
"So… Pacey Witter, you’ve found your man.”
Pacey breaks into a big grin as they shake hands.
Back at the Capeside cemetery...
Dawson is walking, his hands in his pockets, staring blankly at what looms closer with every step.
"It never gets easier, does it?" he asks Joey. She meets his gaze and rubs his arm. It's the first time she has gone to his father’s grave with him. She can empathize with his pain. Just as he did when he accompanied her so many years ago to her mother’s grave.
"No, it never does," she murmurs softly. Dawson just nods his head.
"I mean, there are days when you are just mad that they’re not here. Mad that they left you and mad because you want them back. Even though you know that’s not possible because they’re gone forever. But at the same time, other days, you can feel them with you and you’re happy. Does that make any sense?" he asks, looking at her.
Joey gives him a sad smile and reaches for one of his hands. "More than you know."
For a moment, their eyes lock, taking comfort from each other. Turning around, Dawson slowly starts to walk away under Joey’s gaze. Their hands still linked as he backs off, their fingers touching until the very last moment as Joey’s eyes follow him. Dawson slowly approaches his father’s grave and takes a deep breath, eyes closed, preparing himself for the inevitable pain and sadness.
After a moment, he opens his eyes and looks up. He smiles for a moment, getting his thoughts together. "Hey, Dad. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m sure part of you is hovering around the house, around us, wishing you could just sit and watch the game on television or wishing you could wrestle the carving knife away from me or Mom. Just so you know, none of us have forgotten about you and you haven’t been replaced."
There’s a brief pause as he tries to put his thoughts into words.
"It’s weird. This isn’t the first Thanksgiving and impending holiday season without you but it just doesn’t seem to get any easier. Fortunately, I have mom and Lily and… friends." When he says this, he looks gently over his shoulder where Joey is watching him, arms crossed, giving him a comforting smile as if she’s sending her support and comfort to him from afar.
"So things are going really well," Dawson stammers, losing his train of thought for a minute, closing his eyes again to regain his composure. Still feeling Joey’s eyes on him, he opens them and begins again, with another nervous smile.
"Work is good. I’m taking a break from L.A. and the show for a bit and actually working on a film with Spielberg in New York. It’s going really well so far, although it seems still like a dream. Like this fantasy that I’ll just wake up from at any moment. My life seems to be just… perfect the way it is. You know...I thought of you when I got the offer. I was wishing I could call and tell you that I got to finally live out a life-long fantasy but I knew you knew. You were there with me, cheering me on, telling me how proud you are of me." He smiles when he says this. "Life in New York is different…thank God for Joey being there to help me make the adjustment. Ever since Jen died…it’s been so amazing to reconnect with her. She’s been so great…I’m really fortunate."
"I feel like I’m at this crossroad again, Dad. My life was so monotonous for so long, just working on the show and getting the show developed. And now it’s like a whole new chapter has opened for me. Now I'm working in New York, working back in film, and working with my childhood idol. I’m nervous about what’ll happen afterwards and if I can go back to the life I had before. Not that it was bad... but that’s another topic for another day. That’s another plus to being on the east coast again. I can come visit more…if you don’t mind. " He pauses for a moment, letting the moment wash over him.
"I should get going. Joey and I have to get back. Happy Thanksgiving, Dad. I miss you and I love you…although, I’m sure you know that." With a sigh and smile, Dawson gingerly touches the headstone, saying one more private goodbye before turning and walking towards Joey.
She reaches her hand out to him and taking her hand, he leans against her. He is happy she is there with him, doing what he didn’t allow her to do when his father died: comfort and support him. She squeezes his hand and they walk out of the cemetery…both at peace.
The old Leery's House
Dinnertime is approaching and it shows in the Leery's kitchen.
"Could you check on the pie?" Gale asks Dawson, holding her hair back from her face, face flushed. She is obviously a little stressed. She just wants everything to be perfect.
"Sure," Dawson answers, hiding a grin.
"Okay, the turkey is in the oven." Gale points to the oven. "The pies are defrosting, the drinks are in the cooler and the table is set outside. It won’t be too cold, will it?" she asks Dawson anxiously.
He replies as he opens the oven to check on the pumpkin pie, which is still cooking. "It should be fine. Everyone has a jacket and the sun is out," he points out. He smiles and puts his hands on his mother’s shoulders, calmly. "It’ll be fine, Mom."
"I know. I know," Gale pats Dawson’s face warmly. "I’m so glad you here. I’ve missed your company," she adds, taking off her apron and putting it to the side. "And the Potters are coming, too, right?"
"Yeah. I asked Joey to invite Mike and Alex. Bessie and Bodie are still on their honeymoon. And don't forget Audrey," Dawson reminds Gale, leaning up against the counter languidly and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Won’t be a dull Thanksgiving, will it?" Gale is about to ask something else when Lily runs into the kitchen, her face and knees smudged with dirt. She has been playing with Alex who enters the kitchen close behind her.
"Look at you," Dawson tugs his sister’s blonde pony tale teasingly. "Been rolling in the mud?"
Lily snorts like a pig, making Gale laugh and Dawson rolls his eyes.
"We’re hungry!" Lily announces, obviously referring to herself and Alex. She tries to get a look at what her mother is cooking.
"You’ll have to wait," Dawson retorts, ruffling her hair. Lily pouts and realizing she’s not going to get any snacks, pulls Alex out of the kitchen.
"She’s a handful," Gale sighs fondly.
"So…Mom…,” Dawson pours himself and his mother a cup of hot coffee. Gale takes it gratefully. "How’s everything?"
"You mean…in general?" Gale laughs, as if the question is preposterous.
"Yeah…married life, still living in Capeside, your job, having me as a son…," Dawson adds with a wink.
"The last one I’m not so sure about sometimes," Gale teases him. "But no, I love married life. It's...its nice," Gale admits. "To have someone around, you know?"
"I do," Dawson says softly.
"I mean...," Gale lowers her voice. "No one will ever replace your father. But I think my husband is a wonderful man. And I do love him."
"Of course you do. It couldn’t have been any other way if you married him.” And there is something in his eyes that Gale can’t quiet describe or decipher. But the moment passes as Dawson speaks again.
"He’s…," Dawson searches for the right word. "Got certain attributes…"
"Oh stop!" Gale playfully hits her son with a dishrag. "My job is wonderful, too," Gale continues. Dawson cocks his head, interested. "I love managing the restaurant. It gives me energy and strength and a vitality for life that I would have otherwise lost." Gale smiles and starts to put some ingredients back into the fridge.
"That’s great, Mom," Dawson says genuinely.
"There is something that keeps bothering me, though. Not bothering, but something that makes my actual life seem to be a little displaced."
"What do you mean?" Dawson asks curious.
"If only I knew, honey. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out," she jokes and Dawson smiles at her, although he seems to be a little concerned by her comment.
"So how about you?" Gale says, changing the subject, not wanting him to get worried about her. "I mean, I’m thrilled you’re in New York. What do you think?" Gale asks.
"I love it," Dawson says simply. "I love the city. I love being close to home. I love the project,.I love working with Samantha and the whole crew I’m recruiting around the city. And I love being so close to J…to friends," he covers quickly.
"Ah!" Gale didn’t miss his slip and a victorious smile appears on her face. "So…you and Joey?" she broaches.
"Joey and I are…," Dawson starts, and then he stops, and thinks. He’s not sure after that almost kiss at Bodie and Bessie’s wedding. It didn’t happen, but… it almost did. Does that make any difference to what they are? They have been there so many times before, and it never changed what they are, did it?
"Just friends?" Gale says for him, since he is not replying.
"Yes," Dawson says decisively. "No," he adds quickly. "We’re more than that, but we’re not what you think we are. We’ve finally figured it out and we’re happy with the way things are now." He gives up. It's just not possible for him to put into words what he and Joey are.
"Right." Gale isn’t convinced.
"Mom…" Dawson warns her.
"I know, I know, I’m sorry…you hate it when I meddle. I hardly do, however. But let me say this: I saw sparks between you two at that wedding, genuine sparks." She puts emphasis on ‘sparks’ and points her dishrag at him.
"Sparks are not enough to sustain a relationship, Mom," Dawson says in a matter of fact tone. He knows it well. Natasha, Natalie, Rebecca... even Samantha, they all come to mind.
"Oh, don’t be silly. Of course they’re not. But you two have much more than that. But they’re important too, you know. And I saw them."
"Okay, I’m leaving now." Dawson backs out of the kitchen, one eyebrow raised at his mother.
Gale rolls her eyes and mutters, "I saw sparks, I did. Whether you admit it or not…”
"Are you talking to yourself?" Gale’s husband walks into the kitchen with a bag of groceries.
"No," Gale smiles brightly as she gives him a quick kiss on the lips, smiling. Then she watches him place the groceries on the shelves and she furrows her brows, pensive.
The Leery's House backyard
The Potter truck pulls up to the Leery house. Joey and Mike exit the truck, taking their time, collecting things from the car as Alexander runs to them from behind the house, followed close by Lily.
"Grandpa!" he says, taking a bag from him after a quick hug. Joey watches them and a part of her wishes she could have had that carefree relationship with her dad. For Alex it's easy to have his grandpa back in his life. For her, it's still a delicate situation. Even though she is trying to open up to him despite the risks.
"Come on Grandpa, Aunt Joey!" he calls from a far, playfully shouting at them to hurry up, looking at them over the bag while Lily is trying to drag him inside the house. With a laugh, Mike waves him on and Alex disappears into the house as Joey and Mike slowly follow him.
"So how are things with you and Pacey? I saw you two talking at your sister’s wedding," Mike asks, casting a side-glance at his daughter, who has been a bit quiet since she returned with Dawson from New York a couple of days ago.
"I haven’t really talked to him since then but you already knew that,” she laughs, giving him her trademark half smile and wondering why is he so interested in Pacey all of a sudden when his usual chant is 'Dawson this, Dawson that.’
"That’s right. So anything else new with you? Before she left, Bessie said you’ve been kind of quiet about things outside of work for a while," Mike says, trying again to start and maintain a real conversation with her. Things are better between them, but he still gets most of his info on Joey through Bessie. And since she returned to New York the day after the wedding, they really didn’t have much time to catch up, despite their good intentions.
"Not really, actually. You know about the promotion and the party," Joey says, obviously distracted a bit, but trying to meet him halfway. "Things have been a bit dull outside of that."
"Sometimes it seems as if life is all about your job, right? And everyday is just like the one before?" Mike asks, as they climb the few steps that lead to the Leery's front door.
"Yeah, something like that," Joey answers, pensive and Mike can see an inner sadness.
"Joey," he says, placing a hand in her arm. "Honey, I’m here. If you need to talk, if you need someone to talk to that is not your therapist." Joey smiles. "I’m here. Just give me a chance and I promise to listen. I know I’m not Bessie or even your mother, and my advice, to be honest, might not be the best. But I know how to listen, I really do," he says, his eyes boring into hers.
Joey’s eyes get misty and she can see he is being sincere.
"Thanks, Dad," she says, giving him a light hug. Mike is taken aback a bit at first, but he smiles widely and he savours the moment, which is unintentionally interrupted by Dawson, who comes onto porch.
"Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt," he apologizes, noticing them hugging.
"No, it’s okay. I should make sure your mother has things under control in the kitchen," Mike replies, still reeling a bit from the sign of affection from Joey. He leaves her and Dawson alone as he enters the house.
"It’s okay, Dawson, really," Joey laughs, noticing the still stricken and apologetic look on his face. Giving him a playful push, she walks inside the house and Dawson relaxes, entering the house after her. Taking her coat, which earns him a grateful smile from her, he leads her into the quiet family room.
"So...Happy Thanksgiving," Dawson jokes, pulling in for a long hug.
"You too," Joey snorts, squeezing him tightly back. "You realize they’re going to start officially playing Christmas music the minute the meal is over. They’ll push us right into Christmas, which I’m not prepared for at all, despite our lame attempt last week to start with the Christmas shopping."
"Me either, to tell truth. Hopefully this year, though, I’ll get all my shopping done before Christmas Eve and save myself the horrific costs of last minute shopping," Dawson laughs, guiding her to sit with him on the couch.
"In New York, Dawson, you have to start like tomorrow. The crowds, the lines, the nightmares," Joey sighs dramatically, gesturing with her hands, causing him to laugh a bit. "I’m not kidding."
"Well, if so, maybe we’ll have to take an entire day off and just do everything. You and me taking on Saks, FAO Schwartz, Bloomingdale’s... you name it," he says, wondering if she’s kidding about the lines, the crowds.
"Wow, you’re such a snob!" she jokes.
"Or we can go to K-Mart or something. Talk about being classy," he retorts back.
"No, that’s okay. I’ve had enough of K-Mart for a lifetime. Bloomingdales will do," she laughs. "You’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Leery." Then her eyes light up, "Or we could do some shopping, dinner and movie night on Friday and then hit the streets early Saturday for everything else," Joey suggests.
"Ouch! Talk about shaking up our usual weekend routine." Dawson gasps in fake shock. "I don’t know if I can handle breaking our long standing tradition."
"This is a special time of year, Dawson, and we should be there to help one another out through the horror of holiday shopping," Joey says, shoving him. "And if you’re lucky, I just might help you wrap gifts!"
"Oh no! Not more time together!" Dawson groans, getting another shove.
"You love it," she snaps playfully.
"Yeah…yeah, I do," he smiles, pulling in her for another hug. Resting her head on his shoulder, she looks up at him with a big grin on her face and they stay like that for a while, making plans for the upcoming days once they return to the city.
The Witter’s house
Grams, Jack and Mrs Witter are putting the plates on the big table in the living room. Andie comes from the kitchen with some drinks as Mr Witter just walks around, not knowing what to do. From time to time, he glances at Jack. It is the first official meeting the Witter’s have had with Jack and Doug as a couple and he doesn’t really know how to act. Pacey is watching from afar while keeping Amy entertained so that everyone can deal with their Thanksgiving duties.
"I think the blue one goes… here," Pacey says as Amy offers him a small blue cube that she doesn’t know how it fits in her puzzle.
His attention wanders back to the activity around him and this time he sees Jack and his dad almost collide while trying to place the napkins. His dad flinches as if he had been burned and Jack clearly notices how uncomfortable he is. He apologizes stoically and Pacey's dad just nods his head and walks in the opposite direction. Grams, who has also realized what is happening, looks concerned and her eyes wander from Mr. Witter to Jack before she sighs quietly and heads back to the kitchen to help Andie and Mrs. Witter with the food.
"What a show, huh?" Doug says quietly. Startled, Pacey realizes that he is standing at his side. Amy immediately hands him a red triangle that Doug places in the right place.
"Hey, Dougie," he says as his brother sits on the floor with the two of them. "Yeah, even a blind man could see that things are a little… tense around here," Pacey says gesturing with his chin to the table where Jack and Mr. Witter have been left alone. They are just standing there, in an awkward silence, waiting for the women to return.
"You know what? I usually was the one to stay right where you are, watching you and dad go into these awkward situations where you could hardly carry on a civilized conversation. And I gotta say that sometimes I even enjoyed them." Pacey looks at him surprised by this confession but Doug’s eyes are still fixed on the table, where it now seems as if Jack is trying to make some small conversation. "But they’re not funny at all. And now I finally know what it must have felt like to be you. Now you’re the one with a business, moving on with your life and someone that dad accepts and I’m the black sheep of the family. And I wouldn’t mind except it's not only me but also Jack that he treats this way."
"Yeah. It’s got to be hard for him, too," Pacey says, supportive. Despite all his problems with Doug in the past and his merciless jokes about his sexuality before and even after he came out of the closet, he never wished him any harm.
"He’s overwhelmed," Doug says, referring to Jack. "Because it's just not possible for me to be there every time he needs me…with the Amy’s situation, and now with this. He was always afraid of not fitting in and Dad is not helping, let me tell you. And I’m… I’m afraid this all is gonna explode at some point," he ends, with Amy leaning on him as she chews on one of the pieces of the puzzle that Doug gently takes away from her mouth, much to her frustration.
"What do you mean?" Pacey inquires.
"He’s drifting apart from me. More and more each day. I’ve been trying not to overreact, pretending that it's not happening and just being with him as we used to be. But it's not working. I know something is wrong but I don’t know what else I can do about it if he doesn’t open up to me."
"It's just something genetic for the Witter brothers.... glossing over their problems," Pacey jokes. "Well, bro, the only piece of advice I can give you is the same advice someone gave me some time ago. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel." Doug smiles at him as he can recognize his own words in Pacey's. "I only hope it turns out better for you than for me," Pacey laughs.
Just then, Mrs. Witter, Andie and Grams exit the kitchen with their hands full of food.
"Okay everybody, dinner is ready!" Mrs Witter says, trying to sound cheerful and throwing a look at the table, where her husband and Jack were waiting.
"Well, time to eat," Pacey says, picking up Amy. "And trust me, Doug, no matter what, the best thing you can do is talk to him," he says as he walks away with Amy in his arms.
Doug contemplates his words and then he stands up and joins his family at the table.