Pacey reads a book on board the True Love II. I can't really see the title, but I think it's Fending Off Irritating Co-Workers For Dummies, or perhaps Soulmates: Break Them Up Once and For All. Joey strides up the dock, and calls his name. She looks troubled, and keeps rubbing her right arm. "What's with the furrowed brow?" Pacey asks, getting up to greet her. Joey sadly informs him that she has some bad news. Pacey groans. "Why don't you look like you're kidding?" he asks. Joey ignores him, and says that Deputy Doug's been trying to get in touch with him for the last three days. Pacey smiles ruefully and admits that he's been dodging Doug's calls. "What's going on?" he asks. "It's Mitch. Um. He's dead," Joey says. Way to break it to him gently, Joey. Pacey just looks blank. "What? Wuh -- how?" he asks. "It was a car accident," Joey says. Pacey, shaken, asks if "everybody else is…?" Joey shakes her head. "They're all fine. It's just Mitch. He was alone," she tells him. Pacey continues to look gobsmacked, as Joey tells him that it all went down a couple of nights ago. "How's Dawson doing?" Pacey asks, rubbing his brow. "Well, he's not so good. His father's dead," Joey points out, quite irritably. Pacey looks down and admits that was a pretty stupid question. "No, don't worry about it," Joey tells him. "Believe me, I've said about eight hundred stupid things to him over the last couple of days." The two of them stare at each other for a moment, before Joey asks Pacey if he's ready to come with her. Pacey blinks and wonders if he really should. "What are you talking about?" Joey asks. Pacey looks thoughtful, and points out that maybe Dawson wouldn't want to see him. Joey, frustrated, points out that if Pacey's father died tomorrow, and he looked up at the funeral and saw that Dawson was there…. "Just give me five minutes," Pacey says, and heads below deck to get his things together.

Potter Bed and Breakfast. Bessie and Grams are in the kitchen, making muffins. Enjoy that one shot of Bessie, because that's all we get. At the kitchen table, Jack and his flippy mullet wrap casseroles and plates of cookies in Saran Wrap, because when someone dies, the rest of us cook. It's genetically programmed into humans, I think. When I was fourteen, and my grandmother died, I made cookies. When I was twenty-two and my great-grandmother, to whom I was very close, died, I made almost an entire Thanksgiving dinner. Jen ambles over to the kitchen table and sits down and stares glumly at Jack. She needs his help, she says. She's nervous about seeing Dawson because she doesn't know what to say to him about, you know, the whole Dad Dying In A Tragic Ice-Cream-Related Disaster thing. Jack snarks that Dawson doesn't expect her to give a speech. Jen complains that she was wide awake all night, tossing and turning and trying to figure out what to say and how to act. Jack sighs, and tells her that people never know exactly what to say, that people said all kinds of crazy things to him when his brother Tim died. "The thing is, no matter what you say or what you do, Dawson is alone in this," he says. Jen sits at the table and looks sad. "You just have to figure out your own way of being there for him," Jack tells her. "Okay," Jen says quietly.