Last week, on Leave It To Dawson: Pacey finds out that his boss/mentor/entre-to-the-love-that-dare-not-speak-its-name Danny is an adulterer; Jen discovers that Charlie and his abs are running around on her; Dawson pants and heaves and has panic attacks; Joey makes sympathetic faces, but the look in her eyes makes it clear that she's cold and dead inside.
Down in good old Capeside, Dawson pays a visit to his Kindly Yet Crusty family doctor for a little checkup. Doc tells the Head that his blood tests and whatnot are fine, and Dawson seems ready to leap off the examination table and skedaddle on home, but thinks better of it and mentions his panic attacks. Well, he mentions what I have diagnosed as his panic attacks. As a hypochondriac, I'm quite gifted at diagnosing my ailments and the ailments of others. Seriously, I diagnosed my roommate's appendicitis and my cube-mate's kidney infection. Then I drove them to the ER. The many years I spent reading The Mayo Clinic Health Book as a child (before my mother hid it from me, because I kept convincing myself that I had leukemia, or multiple sclerosis, or hemophilia) have finally paid off. And my skills are particularly suited to diagnosing fictional characters, because if I'm wrong, they won't actually die. Anyway, Doc listens to Dawson's symptoms, and informs him that his stress and grief over the Flash's poorly timed departure to the big ice cream truck in the sky are manifesting themselves physically. "Am I going crazy?" Dawson asks. Doc assures him that he isn't, but advises him to pay a visit to a certain psychiatrist in Boston anyway, in order to work through, you know, all the stuff that's making him break out into night sweats. Dawson protests that Boston is awfully far to travel for a doctor's appointment, and wonders if Doc could recommend someone closer to him. "Trust me, Dr. Weir is worth the trip," Doc says. I wonder if Dr. Weir is related to the Weirs in Freaks and Geeks. Actually -- hang on, let me do some math. Just a sec. One more minute. Go eat a sandwich while I add this up. One more sec. Got it! -- according to my calculations, Dr Weir could conceivably be Lindsey Weir, all grown up and in private practice. In Boston. Right? I mean, Kim Kelly's living with Joey! I'm reaching? Okay. Doc's receptionist makes Dawson an appointment with the exalted Dr. Weir for the day, at 5 PM. "Thanks," Dawson says non-thankfully.
How can Paula Cole even look at herself?
Worthington College For Low Cut Jeans And Jutting Hip Bones And, Also, Academic Achievement. It's apparently Audrey's turn to clean frantically; she's throwing clothes all over the place and dusting maniacally. "Do you want me to take you to the health center?" Joey asks, coming into the room with an armful of books. "Why?" Audrey asks. "You're cleaning," Joey cracks. Audrey makes a face. "Wow, Joey Potter made a joke. Maybe I should take you to the health center," Audrey replies. Joey actually laughs, and asks Audrey what the story is behind the "Martha Stewart routine." Audrey's cleaning for the same reason that slobs all over the world clean; her mother is coming to visit. "[The visit] ought to be fun," Joey says, then looks up and sees the distressed expression on Audrey's face. "Or not," she says. "No, Joey," Audrey begins. "Not even a distant relative of fun. In fact, probably as far down the fun family tree as you can possibly get." Joey comments that Audrey and her mother must "have issues," at which point Audrey wonders if Joey's ever seen Mommie Dearest, and comments that her own personal Joan Crawford "systematically destroyed" her self-esteem. Joey makes a face and says that Audrey "doesn't seem lacking in self-esteem." Audrey snorts and assures Joey that "this time tomorrow [Audrey will] be like a shadow of [her] former self." Joey, settling comfortably onto her bed, looks doubtful. Audrey explains that her mother, in one horrific example, used to borrow her clothes and hit on her boyfriends. She gestures wildly with her dirty laundry. "She's like a menace to society, an enemy of daughters everywhere," Audrey squeals. "Brace yourself, Jo. Something wicked this way comes." The mention of "something wicked" reminds Joey: "Dawson hasn't called, has he?" Audrey makes a face and is all, "Like I would forget to tell you." Joey purses her lips. Audrey grins and admits that, okay, she might forget, but she hasn't forgotten this time.
Pacey's Seaworthy Vessel. Hmmm -- that sounded dirty and I really don't know why. Anyway, Jen's perched in a corner, moaning about Charlie and His Lying, Cheating Ways. "She's his sister? How could I be so stupid?" she wails. Pacey offers that he thought the First Hussy actually was Charlie's sister. Jen makes a face and agrees that she probably was. But the other Hussy? Not unless she and Charlie "have some Flowers in the Attic thing going on." Hey! I made that joke! Last week! In the recaplet! "Which, at this point, I wouldn't put past him," Jen continues. "Men are such dogs." Generally, though, they aren't dogs to the point where they think it's okay to screw their sisters. Just a news brief from the real world. Pacey good-naturedly concurs that men are, in fact, pigs. "I mean it," Jen says. "Why don't they just come up to you, sniff your butt and pee on you, because they're going to do it anyway, metaphorically speaking?" That actually happened to me once. Just kidding. Mid-rant, Jen finds a necklace with a long silver chain and a charm hidden between the sofa cushions, and hands it to Pacey, who takes one look at it and pockets it, dismissing it as "a long story." Jen sighs deeply, and complains that she's "become a cliché," because there's nothing "more trite" than blaming a failed relationship on "the wayward nature of men." You said it, Jen, not me. Pacey makes more sympathetic faces, but wonders aloud if this isn't Jack's area of expertise. I guess Pacey's areas of expertise are, like, potato peeling, and charming bon mots and all things nautical. Jen dismisses Jack; she hasn't seen him for weeks, she says. He's too "busy guzzling beer with his Neander-creep frat brothers." Pacey shrugs this off, and tells Jen that she has two choices. She can get angry -- which, he points out, she's already done -- or -- and let's say it all together, kids -- she can get even. Jen looks thoughtful. I bet a million dollars that this is going to involve forced nudity in a public place.
Casa Leery. Dawson walks around the empty house and looks at the furniture. Seriously, that's all that happens here. He looks at a chair. He looks at the wall. He looks at a table. If I wanted to watch people stare at the furniture, I'd set up a closed-circuit television and watch myself.
The soundtrack cheerfully twangs us over to Liberty Hell/Civilization/Chef Danny's House Of Hussies. The staff is getting ready to open for dinner -- filling the salt cellars, folding the napkins, yada. Pacey strolls up to the soup station and helps himself to a big bowl. Then he goes over to a table and sits down and waits for Chef Danny to bring him his paycheck. Oh yeah, in between the ladling and the sitting, he does have a conversation with K-Lo (tm the forums), who -- oh, who cares? I simply can't bring myself to give a damn about anything this character says or does. Suffice it to say, she complains, he flirts, I read a magazine. Post-flirting, Pacey ambles over to a table and sits down with his bisque. Chef Danny slides into the seat to him and hands him his paycheck. In return, Pacey hands Chef Danny the necklace that Jen found on the boat. Danny slides the bauble into his pocket, saying that his wife must have left it behind the other night. And speaking of the other night, could he possibly persuade Pacey to loan him the boat again? That very evening? Pacey smiles, but turns him down; he's having a party, he says. K-Lo overhears this, and shouts to the rest of the staff that there's a massive kegger at the Witter Boat that evening. Everyone cheers. Pacey slurps his soup.
La Maison de Leery. Dawson spends another good fifteen minutes staring at his furniture before he picks up the phone and calls Joey. After exchanging basic pleasantries, he explains that he's really "had [his] hands full," which is why he hasn't called her lately. Joey, of course, tells him that she understands, and asks him how he's been. Dawson says nothing for a moment. "Fine. I guess. You know," he says. Joey starts making some "I'm here for you" noises, but Dawson interrupts to inform her that he might, in fact, be in Boston that weekend. Joey forces a smile and asks if he needs a place to stay. Dawson brushes her off, telling her that he thinks he's just going to crash with Jen and Jack. Joey looks hurt, but then comments that it's "probably just as well," what with Audrey's mother coming into town and all. The Awkward Guitar Of How Do I Deal With My Fatherless Friend twangs in the background as both Dawson and Joey stare silently at their phones. Dawson clears his throat and tells her that he'll call when he gets into town. Joey plasters a fake smile on her face and chirps her assent. They sign off and stare off into the air.
The Boston Skyline. I wish I was keeping a Skyline Count. We've got to be at, like, thirty. Dawson enters the empty waiting room of his therapist and takes a seat. Then he stares. At the furniture. Some more. And then he gets up and leaves. ["Gee, how Sopranos. Not." -- Sars]
Worthington. "Fine!" Audrey says, stepping on a scale, as Joey enters the room. "Look! Are you happy now? Is it any wonder that I hate myself?" she asks, as her mother shakes her head ruefully. Her mother is wearing leather pants, which is The International Television Signal For Mothers Who Are Trying Too Hard To Hang Onto Their Youth. Mrs. Audrey is played by Brenda Strong, who is best known (to me, anyway) as Sue-Ellen Mishkie, the Bra-Less Wonder/O'Henry Bar Heiress from Seinfeld. Sue-Ellen calls Audrey a "drama queen," and Audrey spits back that she's "Stella Adler herself." The two of them notice Joey watching their little psychodrama, and introductions are made. Sue-Ellen embraces Joey enthusiastically and squeals over her "cute little figure" and asks if she's "ever done any modeling." Behind her mother, Audrey looks around for a weapon of mass destruction. Joey smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear and tells Sue-Ellen that she's no model. Audrey explains the scale, telling Joey that her mother's convinced that she, Audrey, has gained ten pounds. Sue-Ellen waves her hands in the air and smiles. "Five, maybe," she says. Audrey wonders aloud if her mother has any idea how long it's taken Audrey to feel good about her body. Sue-Ellen bats her lashes at Joey and explains that "it's a known fact that college freshmen tend to pack on the 'ell bees.'" Joey stands by her bed, awkwardly. Sue-Ellen turns to her, and asks if, in Joey's opinion, she looks more like Audrey's mother or Audrey's sister. "Be honest," she chirps. Joey hems and haws and finally smiles widely and lies. Audrey flings herself on her bed and wraps herself in the comforter as her mother explains to Joey that she's so young and fabulous-looking because she believes that "your body is your friend, and should be treated as such." Audrey groans. "Shoot me. Shoot me now," she wails. Sue-Ellen ignores her daughter, and asks Joey to join them for dinner. Joey tries to give her regrets, but Audrey leaps off the bed and drags her into the bathroom, allegedly to inspect "a leak," which is, of course, fictional. She turns on the faucet to drown out their conversation and spits that she can't believe Joey said her mother looked like her sister! "What was I supposed to say? Besides, she does look young," Joey offers. "Yeah, thanks to her two best friends: collagen and Botox," Audrey snarks. My two best friends are Nutra-Sweet and caffeine. I wonder what that'll do to my looks over the years, actually. At least I'll be awake. Anyway. Audrey begs Joey to come to dinner with them and save her from her mother's clutches. Joey says she can't; she's waiting for a call from Dunston. "You have a cell phone," Audrey points out. Joey insists that she and Dawson are supposed to go out later. "That's later. I need you now," Audrey pleads. Joey opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. "Joey. Thank you. You're a lifesaver," Audrey tells her.
Elsewhere in Boston, Dawson lets himself into Grams's house, calling out a decidedly non-cheerful "Hello?" Jen comes scampering out of the kitchen, asking what he's doing there. Jen looks awesome, by the way. She's doing sort of a retro forties look, with a flower tucked behind her ear and very red lipstick and a really cute beige and red print skirt and a scooped-neck black top. Michelle Williams must have slipped the wardrobe and makeup people some extra coin this week. She hugs Dawson and tells him that if she knew he was coming, she would have had Grams bake him a cake. Dawson shrugs and smiles wanly and wonders if he can crash there for the weekend. Jen agrees as Jack comes bounding down the stairs. He greets Dawson gleefully, but he and Jen by and large give one another the cold shoulder. While Jack and Dawson clap each other on the back, Jen puts on a darling camel hair coat. I officially covet that entire outfit. Dawson turns and takes her in and wonders where she's off to. "Nowhere," Jen says evasively. "You look pretty smoking for nowhere," Dawson tells her. Jen smiles at him. "I'll take the compliment and subtly defer the question to a later date," she tells him, and heads out into the night. "Yeah, you 'subtly defer the question,' Jen," Jack says sarcastically, as he descends the rest of the stairs and puts on his own coat. He's going to the frat house, he says, and asks if Dawson would like to tag along. Dawson thinks that "sounds great." They head off for a night of beer and back-slapping.
Vaguely retro, vaguely pornographic music wocka-wockas on the soundtrack as Jen tips-taps down the hallway to Charlie's room in a darling pair of black backless shoes that I'd want if I didn't already own a pair. She presses her ear to the door for a moment, then knocks. Charlie wonders who it is: she tells him that it's "Jen, [his] most willing girl servant." Momentarily, Charlie opens the door an inch and wonders what she's doing there. Jen drapes herself over the doorjamb and purrs that they "had plans to rock [his] world." Charlie stutters that they were planning on rocking his world tomorrow. Jen looks confused for a brief moment. "That's right," she says finally, pushing past him and into his room. She looks around suspiciously, then twitters that she needs a Palm Pilot to "keep track of all of [her] liaisons." Charlie nervously shifts his weight from one foot to another. "Oh well," she sighs and sinks onto the bed. She's here now, she says. "What are your thoughts on getting naked?" Charlie sputters that "now is not the best time." Jen makes an overly dramatic hurt face and presses her hand to her throat. She gets up off the bed, giving the cameraman a protracted boob shot, and sniffles plaintively. "I get it," she says. "You don't want me. Do you know what that's like for a girl, Charlie, to offer oneself [sic] and be rejected? It's horrible!" Charlie doesn't know, but I hear that Joey does. Charlie explains that he has a midterm to study for. Jen sniffs that she understands, and once she gets her sweater out of his tightly closed closet, she'll be going. Charlie flings himself in front of the closet. "What sweater?" he asks. "That one that I left here that one time," Jen clarifies. Charlie makes up some story about how it's at the dry cleaners. "I had it dry cleaned," he says. "I'm really good like that." At this moment, of course, the closet door swings open to reveal Hussy Number Two, the girl in the hallway from last week. "Who are you?" Jen asks, feigning shock. "I'm Charlie's girlfriend, who are you?" she answers. "I'm Charlie's girlfriend!" Jen cries. They both affect stricken expressions and turn to the horrified looking Charlie. We're not even going to go into why Charlie's girlfriend would agree to hide in the closet from the person she would surely regard as "the other woman," because there's no sensible explanation and we know the only reason she did it was because she was in on the plan. As to why this didn't raise Charlie's suspicions, well, he's clearly not working on developing a vaccine for anthrax in between solving complex math problems, proofreading a new translation of the Inferno, and brokering peace in the Middle East.
Fraternity: Drinking. Chugging. Backslapping. I have to admit, Drunk Dawson is almost likeable. And he can really down a pitcher of beer, a talent I find admirable in a man.
The Other Restaurant in Boston. Sue-Ellen Mishkie sits between Joey and Audrey, both of whom are picking listlessly at their meals. Sue-Ellen spends the majority of the meal berating her daughter in the same cheerful tone she utilized to such great effect in her first scene. She criticizes Audrey about the cream sauce on her meal, about not working out, about her tone of voice. Joey moves her food around her plate and looks enormously uncomfortable. Audrey looks as though she'd like to crawl under her chair and stay there until she dies of embarrassment or old age, whichever comes first. Joey finally breaks through the litany of criticism (Audrey's "uptalking" makes her sound "like a California blonde") and excuses herself to call Dawson.
Joey settles into a blue chair near the restaurant's bar and dials Dawson's cell phone. Over at the frat, he hears his phone ringing and flips it open to look at the display. The LED screen reads "Joey." He looks at it for a moment, then snaps it closed.
Charlie's Pleasure Palace. I notice that the set designers have changed the mural behind his bed; in the first few episodes of the season, it was a large photograph of the New York skyline, complete with Twin Towers. It's now an aerial shot of Hawaii. Oh, yes: the confrontation. Jen's all hands-on-hips-y, wondering how Charlie thought he'd "get away" with this. "Get away with what?" he asks. "Having your cake and eating it too," is the response. ""Hmmm, why is that so arousing to me?" Charlie asks. "Shut up, Charlie," Jen and I say in unison. "Glib makes me mad, glib makes me want to smash your precious vinyl," she says, reaching for one of his records and holding it over her head. Charlie grabs the record from Jen's hands and sputters that they'd never had the commitment talk. None of them! In any of their countless permutations! "Come on, guys, this is college, you know how it is," he pleads. Nora -- for that is Hussy Number Two's name -- asks him to tell them how, exactly, it is. Charlie babbles something about meeting new people and having new experiences and how he never planned this and blah blah blah. He slides between them, sitting on the bed, and informs them that he's truly sorry, and he never wanted to hurt them, and he'd like to make a suggestion. "We can't go back to the way things were. But we can go forward," he says. Jen wonders what he means. "Look at the facts, all right?" Charlie asks. "I mean, I like you. And I like you. And once upon a time, you both liked me. So I propose -- tell me if I'm crazy -- that we all like each other at the same time." He grins. The girls stare at him, and at each other. Charlie is one class act.
At dinner, Audrey announces to her mother that she's thinking about auditioning for Worthington's production of The Seagull. Sue-Ellen approves, and exposits that Audrey acted as a child. "Do you miss it?" she asks. Audrey shakes her head. "No," she says, "I can think of better ways to feel bad about myself." Sue-Ellen spears a vegetable and muses that she misses it. She explains to Joey that she was a "model/actress/whatever" back in the day. Audrey chimes in that her mother was "the Giselle of her time," although Sue-Ellen dismisses this claim, and tells Joey that what she really wanted to do was act. Audrey twists her mouth up as Sue-Ellen tells Joey that she was "up for a role in a Scorsese movie" when she discovered that she was pregnant with Audrey. "I ruined her career," Audrey says. Sue-Ellen sort of shakes her head and explains that she wasn't very good, "not like Audrey." Audrey rolls her eyes. "I sucked!" she scoffs. Sue-Ellen purses her lips and tells her daughter that she didn't suck, she just lacked discipline. Audrey disagrees. "Audrey, please!" Sue-Ellen says. "Since you were a little girl, flitting from one thing to the : toys, boys, schools. Do you have any idea how many private schools Audrey's been to in the last four years?" Sue-Ellen asks, turning to a horrified-looking Joey. Audrey is beet red. "Six in four years," Sue-Ellen says. "That must be some kind of record." Audrey manages to squeak out that Sue-Ellen is embarrassing her in front of Joey. "Oh, I'm embarrassing you?" Sue-Ellen asks, arching a brow. "I'm so sorry, Audrey, but I don't think you know what it's like to be embarrassed. Not until you have shell out a six-figure donation to some hoity-toity New England college just so they'll consider your daughter, whose academic record is the very definition of embarrassing. The fact that you're here at Worthington at all is a miracle, Audrey. You might learn to appreciate it." There's a moment of silence as Joey watches Audrey die before her eyes. She looks at Sue-Ellen for a moment, then opens her mouth. "I've sat here this entire meal and listened to you do nothing but cut down your daughter," Joey begins. "And I don't know if you're just upset with her because she's not what you want her to be or because she's eighteen and you're not. Audrey may be dramatic, but at least she's never boring. And she may be interested in a lot of different things, but that just makes her well-rounded. And as far as discipline goes, she obviously has a great deal, because no matter what you seem to say to her, she somehow manages to grin and bear it. As you can see, I don't really have that kind of discipline." She throws down her napkin. "Audrey, let's go. There's a party." Audrey grins slyly at Joey, before standing up and following her out of the restaurant. Sue-Ellen just looks down at her coffee cup, a little stunned. Hey, I think that was Old Joey right there. Hey, Old Joey, come back! Old Joey? Wait! Hello? Hello? Aw, shit.
Charlie's Maison de Menage a Trois. Charlie is playing right into Jen's hands. And not the way he hopes. "So, what do you say, Nora?" Jen asks, eyeing her former rival pseudo-seductively. "I'm game if you are, Jen," Nora coos in response. "All right! So, what do you say we get this party started?" Charlie asks. Oh, ew. Anyone who uses the phrase "let's get this party started" in an unironic way deserves whatever they get. Jen tells him to go stand near the door. Charlie fairly scampers into the corner. "So, what now?" he asks. "Strip," Jen replies. Nora shoots her a surprised glance. "You first," Charlie demands. Jen says something about having to leave, and Charlie flutters and sputters and takes off his shirt. Jen and Nora ooh and ahh and giggle flirtatiously. "Oh, don't stop there," Jen tells him, batting her lashes. She slides her hand up Nora's thigh, and Charlie's eyes almost fall out of his skull and onto the floor. He drops his pants and stands before them in his boxers. Poor Chad Michael Murray; he's such a sex object on this show. He's just a piece of meat for the producers. I really have no problem with that. "I believe you have one garment left," Nora tells him. Charlie's practically jumping up and down and squealing and clapping his hands like a twelve-year-old at an *NSYNC concert. He tells the girls that it's their turn to get nekkid. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, Charlie," Jen tells him. "This is not tit for tat. Make no mistake; we're holding the cards. Shut up. And get naked." Ah, that so reminds me of my youth. Anyway. Charlie doesn't need much arm-twisting. He drops trou. "It's not something both you girls ain't seen before," he says, tossing his boxers across the room. "Oh, yes!" Jen exclaims. "You ready?" he asks. "You bet," she tells him, and asks him to close his eyes. "Why?" Charlie asks. Jen twitters that it's their turn to get naked, and they're "shy." "This is so cool," Charlie breathes, as Nora, behind him, opens his door. Jen and Nora exchange a smirk and back Charlie into the doorjamb. You think he'd feel a draft. Then they shove him, naked, into the hallway and, following him, slam the door shut. Charlie's eyes snap open. He yelps. Jen and Nora snicker, and run away. All of Charlie's floormates stare and point. He grabs a flyer off the wall and holds it over his goodies. "Hey, come on!" he yells at the spectators. "Move it along, nothing to see here!"
Nora and Jen walk away from the dorm together, chortling. Nora is so glad Jen "talked [her] into that." They chuckle over Charlie and his awkward attempt to wrangle them into a threesome. Jen muses that he's going to be very upset when he discovers that his "autographed copy of Pinkerton" is missing. She holds up said CD, and tosses it into a nearby trashcan! Um, hello? Sell that on eBay! Or send it to me. Christ. Nora chuckles, and reveals that she pocketed his art history notes. "His midterm is Wednesday," she says, tearing them up and throwing them after the Weezer CD. When did they have time to steal all this stuff? It's not like they were doing it while Charlie had his eyes closed; that was all door opening and shoving. Jen pulls Charlie's favorite shirt out of her coat and waves it in Nora's face. "He loves that shirt," Nora says. "And when I get home, I'm going to clean my toilet with it," Jen grins. Blah blah men are pigs blah blah too good to be true blah blah come to the party with me blah blah I'm too depressed blah blah blah blah unrealistic hug. Cheating bastards: bringing women together everywhere. Sigh. I'm glad Jen is getting a plot and all, but does it have to be so predictable? Come on: naked humiliation of cheating man? Been there, done that. Not personally. Well, not on a regular basis.
Ain't no party like a Pacey Witter Dock Party. Everyone mills around the True Love II, wrapped in coats and trying not to lose any of their extremities to hypothermia. Pacey hands Audrey a bottled water, and she grins and tells him that his boat "kicks serious ass." Pacey thanks her and comments that he hopes to own one just like it one day. "In the meantime, it must be quite the chick magnet," Audrey tells him. "You know, I resent that," Pacey says. "Can't a man just love all things nautical?" Audrey cracks up, and wonders if "this latter-day Hemingway thing" is really working for him. Here's hoping it isn't, as Hemingway ended up shooting himself in the head. ["And could they please stop with the Hemingway references on this show? Feh." -- Sars]
Joey strolls over to her roommate and former red-hot lover, wondering idly, "What's up?" Pacey grins and tells her that Audrey is hitting on him. Audrey squeals that she is not! Pacey squeals that she is! "I just call 'em like I see 'em, lady," he tells her. Audrey makes a mock-angry face and tells Pacey he better watch it. "I might have to put a hole in your boat later or something," she says, walking off. Pacey chuckles as she goes. "I have no words," he says. Joey grins. She has no words, either. I wish that was really true. It would make my life so much easier. Pacey wonders if Joey's spoken to Dawson. She says she hasn't, and that he was supposed to call her when he got to town. Pacey frowns and tells her that he called Dawson about the party and never heard back from him. Joey makes her worried face, but Pacey looks up just in time to see Dawson make his entrance, flanked by the Frat Rats. "Hey, speak of the devil," Pacey drawls as Dawson scampers over to him and hugs him. "Hey, guess what? I'm in Boston," he slurs. Pacey grins indulgently as Dawson introduces him to the Frat Rats as "[his] oldest friend." Hey, that got a teeny little "aw" out of me and my heart of stone. Audrey skips up to Dawson, and they embrace. Pacey grabs Jack's arm, and hugs him. It's a real hug-athon. But, see, Pacey isn't just spreading the love; he wants to talk to Jack. "You got him drunk?" he asks. Jack's all, he had a few drinks. "I thought the object was to make him feel better sober," Pacey tells him. "I thought the object was to make him feel better, period," Jack sasses. They turn and watch Dawson yukking it up with Audrey. "I'd say he's feeling better," Jack points out. "I'd say he's hardly feeling anything," Pacey muses. "Hey, whatever works," Jack says. Pacey shrugs.
Across the dock, Dawson is telling Audrey how he misses her and he never gets to see her, and did he mention that he misses her, when Joey ambles up to him. Dawson grins sheepishly at her. "I was supposed to call!" he cries. She smiles, and agrees that he was. Audrey slips off, leaving them to chat, as Dawson takes out his cell phone. "I'm going to rectify this. Have no fear, Dawson is here," Dawson says, dialing her number. "Calling you right now. Come on Joey, pick up. Joey, hey, it's Dawson! I'm at a party on Pacey's boat! I wish you were here! You're not here! It sucks that you're not here! I was supposed to call you! And I'm so sorry I didn't call you. I meant to and I was really going to, but you know what? I couldn't. I just couldn't. I couldn't call you. Does that make any sense? Am I making any sense, or am just rambling on like a drunken idiot on your machine? That's what I'm doing. But that's okay. Because you left me a drunken message. And if you hadn't, I probably would have gone back to LA. Actually, I bet, I would probably still be there now, and maybe my dad would still be alive, so thank you Joey, I appreciate it. Okay! Call me! Goodbye." He hangs up and grins. Joey looks stunned and hurt and shocked and, you know, horrified. A frat rat grabs Dawson's arm and pulls him away. Hang on a second: Did Dawson just accuse Joey of KILLING HIS DAD? Because that is awesome. It also makes no sense, because she was calling to tell him that she didn't want to have anything to do -- oh, I get it. If Joey hadn't decided she didn't want him, Dawson wouldn't have decided that he was all in love with her again, and he wouldn't have quit school and therefore he wouldn't have gone home to tell his parents that he was dropping out of USC because Joey might not be pining for him anymore and that just won't do, and then the Flash wouldn't have had a powerful craving for vanilla, and he'd still be alive today, rubbing Fast-Tan on his pecs and main-lining Jolt.
Twue Wuv: II. The Morning After. Dawson's sleeping out on the deck in a sweater and jeans, covered only by a thin blanket. Now, I'm not real familiar with East Coast weather patterns, but from what my sources tell me, it's way too cold in Boston in November to sleep outside, in a sweater, on the water. Especially, I would imagine, if you fell asleep drunk. Maybe Pacey is trying to kill Dawson off by letting him "accidentally" freeze to death. Speaking of Pacey, he's hovering over Dawson with a glass of cloudy liquid. "Rise and shine," he says. Dawson sleepily peels open his eyelids. "Come on, drink up," Pacey says, gesturing with the glass. Dawson slowly sits up, and asks what's in the glass. Pacey tells him it's "sauerkraut juice, honey, and a splash of Tabasco." Dawson makes a face, and Pacey promises that the guys at the restaurant swear by it as a cure for hangovers. My own personal cure for hangovers is a large Diet Coke and a Breakfast Jack from Jack in the Box. Just enough caffeine to kill your headache, and enough grease to coat your stomach without making you vomit. And then three Advils and a glass of water. Make a note of it. Dawson groans. "Please tell me how my head feels is no reflection on how I acted," he moans. "How your head feels is no reflection on how you acted," Pacey parrots. Dawson grimaces. "You're not a very good liar," he says. Pacey shrugs and tells Dawson that he "had a lot of stuff bottled up inside. Combine that what a couple, twelve beers, it's bound to happen." Dawson shakes his head slowly. "I'm afraid I said something really terrible to Joey," he says. Pacey frowns. "Yeah, be afraid. Be very afraid," Pacey tells him. "You put on quite a show last night. If it's any consolation to you I think Joey's going to forgive you a lot sooner than you forgive yourself." Dawson looks pained. Pacey hands him the glass. "It will make you feel better," he promises. Dawson sniffs the concoction tentatively and wrinkles his nose.
Worthington College, Where Six Figures Can Buy You Both An Education And Years Of Nagging From Your Mom. This scene between Audrey and her mother is so nauseating on so many levels. It's all blah I love you blah blah I miss you blah blah hurt blah blah I say some of the things I say to you out of love blah blah blah blah. "You know what was missing from that speech?" Audrey asks. All the verbs? Oh, that's just my version. "An apology to me. Let's just not do this anymore, okay?" she asks, as The Piano Music Of Estranged Daughters tinkles in the background. "Let's just…let's just try to be good to each other," Audrey offers. "And I know I might be a spoiled brat, but, quite frankly, I'm the only one you've got. And you might be a raging psychotic, but you're my raging psychotic. You know what I mean?" Sue-Ellen nods, tearfully. "I'm sorry, Audrey," she says. The music swells. "Me, too," Audrey sniffs. They hug. God, Busy Philipps almost pulled that scene off. "Take care, honey," Sue-Ellen tells her daughter. "You, too, bunny," Audrey says. She watches her mother go, swallows her tears, and goes back into her room. Joey Potter: bringing mothers and daughters together. And why? Because she knows the value of the mother/daughter bond. Because her mother is dead! Dead! Dead as doornail! Joey's a motherless child!
Audrey enters the room, where Joey sits cross-legged on her own bed and reads. "She's gone," Audrey announces. "You're still in one piece," Joey smiles. "Thanks to you," Audrey says, sitting on the edge of Joey's bed. Joey half-smiles, and asks what she did. "You defended my honor, Joey. That, and you took me to a party. For once I didn't have to invite myself along." Joey shrugs, and dubs it "nothing." Audrey shakes her head. "No, it was something," she says. "You made me feel good about myself. Trust me, that's something. And you know all that stuff that she said? I hope you don't think less of me, or something." Joey rolls her eyes. "Please," she says, "I'm just glad I could help." They smile at each other, and Audrey vows to return the favor one day. Joey grins. It's nice to see Joey with a friend who's entirely divorced from the whole Dawson/Joey/Pacey Triangle Of Terror.
Grams's. Dawson's just getting in, as Jen sits down with a big breakfast. She offers him a bite of her eggs and pancakes, and he bangs his head on the table. Dude, that's not going to help your hangover. "Is your dire need for comfort food because…" he begins. "He who shall remain nameless, yes," Jen tells him. Jen's been dallying with Lord Voldemort? No wonder she's in trouble. Sorry, a little Harry Potter humor there. Dawson wonders why Jen missed Pacey's party. "Wasn't feeling very festive," Jen says. "How was your Frat Pack experience?" Dawson makes a face. "Yeah, I can't picture you hanging out with guys who consider the high five an acceptable form of greeting," Jen says. First of all, Dawson seemed to be enjoying the Frat Rats at the time. Second, there's nothing wrong with the high five as a form of greeting. I open all my business meetings with a series of high fives around the conference table. Dawson shrugs and admits that he was just grateful to spend some time with people who weren't constantly walking on eggshells around him. Jen takes a bite of breakfast and looks at him sympathetically. "Every one is trying their best," she offers. Dawson knows that. "I'm a lucky guy," he says. "I've got some pretty kick-ass friends." Jen grins. "Don't you forget it," she tells him. He lays his aching head down on the table and closes his eyes. Jen smirks, and pats him on the arm.
Pacey. K-Lo. Necklace of Shame. "I thought I lost it the other night. My mother would not have been pleased," Karen says, after Pacey mentions the pretty, pretty bauble around her neck. Pacey can imagine. "You okay?" "Fine." Sour face. Sad expression. Whatever.
Dawson and Joey walk down the street toward the train station. He's sort of trying to apologize, but admits that he doesn't know how. Try: "I'm sorry I accused you of killing my dad." He flares his nostrils, and tells her that "it's like English is [his] second language." Joey says something about being "beyond the need for apologies," but as far as I am concerned, no one is ever beyond the need for apologies. A sincere "I'm sorry" will always go a long way. She grins at him. "I mean, besides, you were such a jerk last night, I bet you're feeling all kinds of stupid." Dawson looks ashamed, and admits that this is true. The two of them chat awkwardly about the local two-dollar movie house, and Dawson whines about not being able to get into the movies anymore, and my cerebral cortex shuts down when he mentions the word "movie," so I really couldn't tell you what he said. He tells Joey that he "doesn't know what to do with [himself]." Joey tells him to "let [himself] heal."
Train station. Dawson turns to Joey and tells her that he came to Boston to see "a grief specialist," but he couldn't go through with it. He flaked. And he doesn't know why. Joey furrows her brow, confused. "Nothing makes sense to me these days," he says. "Can I tell you something? Even if it has the potential to make you sad?" Joey, naturally, says that he can tell her anything. "Joey, when I made the decision not to go back to LA, all I could do was daydream about this one thing -- kissing you." Joey smiles. I stab myself with a cruller, which does nothing other than cover my sweatshirt with sugar. "I was so looking forward to this day, when it would finally feel right for you and me to give it another try, you know? And for the first time in forever, it seemed so possible. Like it was just around the corner. And then he died. And it just went away. I was living in this fuzzy world of daydreams and I just got yanked out of it. And…I have no idea how to get back there. And what scares me most is, maybe I never will." He looks sad. I hate to say it, but the Beek did a decent job with that speech. Joey looks at him, and leans in, and kisses him. "You'll find your way back," she tells him. "And in the meantime, I'll daydream for the both of us." She smiles sadly, mostly because she knows she just doomed herself to years of pity sex, all because she killed Dawson's dad. Dawson has no expression on his face at all. His train is announced. "That's you," Joey tells him. Dawson picks up his bags. Stare. The Sad Piano Of Dead Dads gives way to The Hopeless Piano Of Misguided Soulmates. Stare. Stare. Piano. Stare. Piano. Tiny smile. Stare. Violins. Stare. Piano. Argh.