Cre8iveFlare

Chapter 3
Before Breakfast

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and buttermilk pancakes wafted into my room and woke me from my slumber. I quickly dressed and fixed my hair, contemplating but dismissing the urge to mess around with makeup. Dawson was already in the kitchen with Joey and Pacey, by the time I emerged.

My perpetually jovial brother was in a.groove flipping pancakes. There was already a large stack of them on a plate beside the stove. Joey was pouring fresh beans into the coffee maker ready to brew a second batch of coffee. As her arm was raised I noticed the bump where a baby Witter was almost formed. For the first time, I a long time I felt a wave of pure joy wash over me, brought on by the prospect of being an aunt again, only this time to my brother's first child.

“Hey Jo, let me take over here.” I offered.

“Thanks, but I can still make coffee,” she refused. Her voice softened from her usual determined tone. “Besides you’re a guest.”

“Behold a Potter with a sense of obligation to do it all on her own, without accepting help from anyone.” Dawson teased.

“Spoken like a man who knows me too well, Dawson,” Joey retorted.

“I'm also family, Joey, not a paying guest. Let me help out in some way, please?” I pleaded, shooting Dawson a quick smile.

“Hey big sis, if you're looking to be the first Witter ever to earn their keep here, by all means, you can take this stack to the dining room.” I took the plate from Pacey and started out of the kitchen.

In the dining room, Alex was setting the table. His eyes barely met mine as he shot me a quick greeting.

“Wow this looks great in here!” I exclaimed a little too enthusiastically.

“Thanks.” He muttered. “We aim to please here at the BnB.”

“I can't believe this is the first time I've stayed here. You guys have created a wonderful place.” I gushed.

“Yeah, when I was a kid Mom and Aunt Joey turned out home into what it is now.” Alex explained. “They always said it's what Grandma Lillian would've wanted, but never got to see.”
“Yeah my brother told me.” I said. “She would be proud of this place, I'm sure, and of you. Your Mom would be too.”

“Yeah…” He busied himself with opening a fresh pack of napkins and setting them down around the table at every place before placing the rest in the centre.

“It must be hard, not having your Mom.” I said.

“I don't wanna talk about it.” He said quickly.

“Sure, I get it. When my dad passed, it took me a while to comprehend he was gone. For ages I couldn't talk about him.” A wave of sadness washed over me as we continued setting the table in silence.

John Witter was a hard man, the hardest of all on Pacey and me. It almost destroyed Pacey growing up, but the day I left for college was the first time I'd ever him him utter the words “I'm proud of you,” in my direction. Naturally he expressed his bitter disappointment when I returned from college a year out from my graduation year to take the year off and sort my head out. He even went so far as to say how he thought I'd drop out sooner before wasting anymore of his hard earned money from years of policing the town.

Mom always went along with it. “Well someone's gotta serve the drinks and wait on tables,” she would say.

It was just like when she corrected Pacey when he talked about being a veterinarian. “Dog grooming groomer, Pace,” she'd say, stamping out any possibility of my brother aiming higher in life. “Someone has to be be the dog groomer.” Looking back, it was amazing that my brother finished his GED and was on the next boat out of Capeside, considering the two people he needed in his corner expected nothing more of him than to fail.

Our brother of course reveled in being the good son, the favourite of the Witter clan. The then Deputy Doug tormented and belittled Pacey every chance he got and growing up it took all the resistance I had not to slap the smugness right out of him. Pacey put it down to unhappiness that Dougie had to hide behind a hetero sexual facade.

Then when Doug finally came out Pacey became Dad's favourite. Dad never hid his disappointment ever with any of us and he was not about to start hiding the disappointment he felt about Doug, who he'd always seen as his shining star among the chaos that surrounded the rest of us Witters, from me abandoned college, and Pacey blowing all his money on Stepotek and everyone else's, including Dawson's.

When Pacey showed the truly determined character he was and solicited the money Dawson needed to finance his first Hollywood film through donations from local businesses, my Dad could not be prouder. Seeing Pacey's name in the credits of Dawson's remake of Creek Days filled my father with so much pride he conveniently forgot everything he originally said about Pacey being the family screw up.

Doug hated not being the favourite for the first time in his life, but he too came around to being a friend to Pacey, after Jack McPhee moved back to Capeside to teach English at the local high school and coach the Minutemen, and a friendship blossomed between them. I think somewhere along the way, losing Dad and both believing they had failed him, brought Pacey and Doug closer. I guess it made them both realise that they needed each other more that they ever thought. Doug had never felt more alone in dealing with his sexiality and Pacey's friendship with Dawson never fully recovered from the blow of Joey finally choosing between Pacey and Dawson.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice Alex had left the dining room.momentarily and was now returning, armed with condiments and with Dawson in tow. He took a place at the table and I took that as my cue to also sit.

“So how are you coping with being back?” I asked.

“I couldn't be happier to be here. They are so great together aren't they?” He said, staring back into the kitchen.

“They are.” I agreed. “You know despite everything with Bessie, they really look genuinely happy.”

“I never thought I would ever see Joey happy here in Capeside. She was always so intent on leaving here and seeing the world.” Dawson mused.

I nodded. “I guess Thomas Wolfe was wrong. You can go home again.” Another wave of nostalgia washed over me as I uttered those words. “So what are your plans this morning Dawson?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Well my little sister has been bugging me to come spend some time with her and of course I should see Gail too.” Dawson said.

I nodded. “Be sure to say hi to your Mom for me.”

“Why don't you come with me!” He suggested.

“I couldn't intrude.” I interjected.

“Believe me it wouldn't be an intrusion.” Dawson insisted.

Thinking there was nothing needed of me that morning until later, I agreed. “Sure, why not.”