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| Chapter 6 I sit in the car as I watch the scenery go by. Made up of gray buildings, people and the occasional tree can be memorizing. I think back to this afternoon, cleaning the kitchen then going to the police station. The police station. That was the easy part, telling Pacey was hard. Telling your best friend that you screwed up. And to think that I thought leaving that hell hole was hard. I can't think about this anymore. Pacey said to act like it didn't happen and just be happy. I reach over and turn on the radio and leaned my head back against the glass as I take in the words. Sometimes I feel affected, then it all disappears, The rain and clouds above my head, then all that disappears I'd understand it, if I could grab it, Another wish on my list One more day we made it through now, got my list One more time we made it through yeah, got my list Some days I feel protected, then all that disappears We breathe as two but think as one, and it all disappears. Got My List One Line Drawing So true, the meaning of the words. That nonexistent list that exists so deep within me. That list that has so many things on it. Whether it be regrets, painful memories, good time, or just something that needs to get done, its there. I close my eyes and a single tear falls. The next thing I know, I�m home. For now its my home. "Come on Jo. Time to wake up." Pacey nudges me. I open my eyes and his face is right there, so close to mine that I can feel his breath. Mine catches as I look into his eyes. I advert them quickly and I realize that the door is open and he's already out or the car. He unbuckles my seatbelt and genteelly tugs on my arm to get me moving. Once inside the house we moved into the kitchen and sat at the little island in the center. Sitting in silence is usually comfortable, but not now. Were sitting there, staring at the yellow colored wall, not touching or facing each other, just sitting on the same side. The silence deafening, speaking volumes. We're just sitting here, afraid to speak. "You want anything to drink?" Pacey asks breaking the long silence. "Sure," I look over at him and smile. "Just as long as its not coffee." "Well that isn�t any fun now is it?" He pulls me out of the chair and slings his arm over my shoulder. We walk over to the fridge to see what�s in there. "Well, there isn�t any more cream, so we cant play with that, and" He bends over to look behind all the Tupperware containers full of leftovers. "And we appear to not have anything else either." "You don�t have anything?" I look at him with my hands on my hips. "That�s why its Saturday. And on Saturday I do my shopping, and my laundry, and the cleaning." "Wow. He even cleans too." "You�d be surprised how much marriage can change a man, my dear." "I�m sure it does, but the piles sure seem to build up for someone who cleans every week." "Its not that bad." "Sure it isn�t." I walk over to the doorway. "So do we go out for groceries, or do we clean?" "I say we get the easy stuff over with first." "This coming from the man who hated shopping." He grabs his keys as we walk back out the door. "I never hated shopping." "Yeah you did." I look over at him, giving him a knowing look. "Okay, so maybe I hated it a little." "Right, so every time we had to go shopping you never complained?" "Now, I didn�t say that I didn�t complain, I just said I hated it a little." "And I�m Gwenyth Paltrow." "Its nice to meet you Gwenyth." He puts out his hand and expects me to shake it. "I�m Pacey Witter. You look so much smaller in the movies." I laugh and he grabs me round the waist. It hurts like hell, but only for a moment. Whether it was from the laughing or Pacey's arm I do not know. Then he whispered into my ear, "You look so much better then Gwenyth." That shuts me up. Felling his breath tickling my ear, the slight brush of his lips, the sound of his voice. I, Josephine Potter, am left absolutely speechless. I turn to look at him and he hasn�t moved away from my ear. Are noses are practically touching, and were just staring, just this time its at each other instead of the wall. Looking into each others eyes, the windows to our souls, but not telling us what we're looking for. This look is new. |