Part 15
“A picnic?” Pacey stared at the checked blanket on the B&B living room floor with a blank expression. Joey continued to set paper plates down on the afghan quietly. Jen came in from the kitchen with a large plate of fried chicken. Jack followed her with a bag of potato chips between his teeth and five sodas balanced precariously in his hands. Kaylie had not arrived to the impromptu gathering yet. “Jo, it isn’t even spring yet.”
“Which is why we are inside, Pacey.” Joey threw a patient smile his way and headed back to the kitchen in search of napkins.
“Why are we going to all this trouble though? Why don’t we just get some sugary soda, order a pizza, and pop in a video?” Pacey followed Joey into the kitchen. He pounded out a drum beat against the kitchen counter. Joey looked over at him and rolled her eyes.
“I thought you’d appreciate our video boycott. Haven’t you had enough movie nights to last a lifetime?” Joey struggled to keep the bitterness out of her tone. She hadn’t invited Dawson to their get-together. And she wasn’t sorry about that at all.
Pacey stopped drumming and leaned against the counter, watching Joey closely. He had noticed something flat in her tone for the last couple days. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he resolved to ask her about it at the next available opportunity. For the moment, all he could do was not provoke her. Stepping behind her, his arms circled her waist, pulling her into his chest. Joey smiled, allowing the tension to seep away, and reached her arms behind her, clasping her hands around his neck gently. “Mmmm....Jo, you give the best backwards hugs,” Pacey whispered tenderly in her ear.
Joey laughed and turned in his arms. She brought his head down to hers with a softly leading hand. Kissing Pacey, she almost giggled as he slipped his tongue between her lips. Breaking away, she looked up into his curious gaze. “You give the best kisses, Witter.”
“I know,” Pacey replied matter of factly, mirth sparkling in the depths of his blue eyes. He swaggered away from her, grabbing a pile of napkins on his way back into the living room. Joey’s laughter rang out behind him.
The knock on the door was small and shy. Before Joey could reach it, the brass knob turned of its own accord. Attached to the other side was Dawson Leery’s hand. Behind him, an embarrassed Kaylie stood back, her mouth half opened. Joey and Pacey’s jaws dropped simultaneously when Dawson turned and offered Kaylie an outstretched palm, which she took tentatively. She stepped into the B&B, her fingers entwined with Dawson’s. Pacey darted a glance Joey’s way in time to see her eyes narrow on their joined hands, in time to see her grit her teeth together and clench her jaw shut. Pacey jammed a fisted hand into his jean’s pocket. He smiled tersely and called out “Hey Kaylie.”
“Pacey.” Kaylie’s voice was a wisp of air.
Jack and Jen looked up from the checked cloth they had been intently arranging dishes on in time to notice with some surprise that Dawson looked different. Worried and concerned and happy. All at once. He tapped his index finger against his pant leg. He avoided Joey’s pointed stare completely. He darted glances over at Kaylie, his eyes softening under her gaze. Jack wasn’t sure if Kaylie was smiling at all.
Kaylie wasn’t sure why she’d let Dawson convince her to come here, why she’d bothered to plan what she was wearing so carefully. She’d spent all afternoon pulling her closet apart to find the soft rose sweater, her most comfortable pair of black corduroy jeans. She’d spent nearly twenty minutes arranging her hair in a long french braid, small tendrils escaping and framing her face with soft curls. She wasn’t sure why she’d snuck into her parents’ room to dab her mother’s perfume on her pulse points. She wasn’t sure why it mattered what she looked like tonight. She was focusing on the details. Anything to get through telling her friends about Tamara. Think about a dozen stupid things and she could pretend the big thing wasn’t happening. She glanced around the room skittishly. Joey was in the kitchen gazing into a cabinet intently. Pacey was looking from Kaylie to Dawson to Joey and back again with a expression of extreme discomfort. Jack and Jen were setting up a picnic on the living room floor, studiously avoiding the rising tension in the room. Dawson was smiling supportively her way.
“Pacey will understand,” he’d said. That was after he’d seen Tamara the other night. Right after he’d flipped out. Dawson had accused her of lying, of having a hidden agenda. He’d said Ms. Jacobs couldn’t be Kaylie’s mom.
“I’d like to think that too, Dawson,” she’d admitted tiredly. Dawson stared at her and back in the direction Tamara had retreated to. He’d paced anxiously, flipping his hair over his fingers. Kaylie had watched for a moment, then walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She scanned the shelves absentmindedly, pulling a bunch of grapes out finally. She pulled a plate out of the dishwasher, wiped the condensation onto her shirt, and set the fruit down on top of it. She removed a few grapes flattened by the force at which she had set them down. She turned and headed to another cupboard and opened it with the tip of her index finger. She watched the wooden door swing a little and then stared at its contents dumbly. She couldn’t even remember why she’d opened it. Kaylie leaned a hand against the door. She took a deep breath. Running her tongue along her teeth, she ran through the last few minutes nervously. Dawson on his hands and knees. He tasted like almonds. She shouldn’t know that. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling and wondered what Pacey tasted like. She shouldn’t want to know that. God. Maybe she could ask her mom. Damn. Dawson and her mom. Her mom and Pacey. And why couldn’t she breathe? The room wouldn’t stop spinning.
Maybe if she just turned with it?
Kaylie held her arms out, stretching them like wings and turned in circles slowly, curiously watching the changing scenery. The kitchen sink, the counter, the glimpse of Dawson in the other room, the trees in the window, the kitchen sink, the counter, Dawson sitting, head in his hands, the roses dying on the carpet, the tree leaves shaking in the wind, the kitchen sink, the grapes on the counter....Kaylie felt her eyes roll up into her head as the ground rose to meet her body. Dawson caught her before she fell. And he held on. She heard her pulse race crazily and his heart beat made for a duet.
So here they were. At the Potter Bed and Breakfast for an indoor picnic. Kaylie was going to tell Pacey the truth. She wasn’t going to think about how Pacey...she simply wasn’t. And she was bringing Dawson because she was dizzy. And she might need someone to catch her again. For when Joey decks me, she thought grimly.