The Leery House For Widows And Orphans. Jack, Jen, and Pacey stand around the living room, drinking coffee and talking to each other. Dawson sits on the stairs, holding his sister. Grams approaches him, and offers to take Lily for a bit. Dawson refuses, explaining that as long as he's holding the baby, people don't come up to him and "offer their platitudes." Grams smiles knowingly and plunks down on the steps next to him. She asks about Gale. "She's upstairs. She won't come down," Dawson explains. Grams nods, sadly. "So, what's yours?" Dawson asks her. "My what?" she wonders. "Your platitude," Dawson explains. Grams looks thoughtful for a moment, then tells him that she's fresh out of platitudes. Dawson is surprised. "I thought for sure you'd whip out 'the Lord works in mysterious ways,'" he says. "The Lord and I, we aren't on speaking terms this week," Grams tells him sadly, and hugs him, baby and all.
Outside in the front yard, Joey's doing that thing where she stares at the landscape all moonily while the camera twirls around. It sort of makes me sick. Physically sick, I mean. Finally, she turns and heads back to the house, stopping and staring at the section of wall where the ladder to Dawson's room used to rest. Cue Flashback, Part The Second: The Flash rests that hallowed ladder against the house and turns to Joey, telling her that he doesn't want her climbing up the trellis anymore. "It's dangerous. You could get hurt," he tells her. "If that happened, I don't think my son would ever forgive me." Joey twists up her mouth. "Yeah, right," she responds, sarcastically. The Flash smiles and assures her that, eventually, Dawson will "pull his head out of the sand. He'll figure it out. Maybe not as soon as you'd like, though. Boys are stupid like that." Joey smiles wryly, as the Flash kisses her on the forehead and goes. Joey makes a sad face, and looks up at the now ladder-less window. She blinks back her tears and heads for the house.
Leery Kitchen Of The Bereaved. Dawson's staring blankly at the inside of the fridge. "Whatcha doing?" Jen asks, behind him. "Trying to decide between a glass of orange juice and a bottle of wine. What do you think?" Dawson responds. "Well, wine is fine, but whiskey's quicker," she says. Dawson smiles at the inside of the icebox. "What about narcotics?" he asks. "Oh, even better," Jen says. Dawson tells her that "times like these" make him wish he was "more of a drug person, but starting up seems like such a hassle." Jen nods. "Yeah," she agrees. "Plus, you really can't score any good dope in Capeside." Dawson nods. "Good point. Orange juice it is," he says, and takes the carton out of the fridge. Jen watches him pour, and tells him that she's not exactly sure what she's supposed to say to him. She feels terrible, helpless, and she can't imagine what he's going through. She's out of her league, she says. "So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give you a hug, and I'm not going to let go for a really long time. I'm going to tell you that I love you, which is actually a pretty good deal, because it means that I'll do anything on the off chance that it'll make you a little less sad," she tells him. Dawson tells her that "sounds good to him," and they embrace. Call me crazy, but I don't think giving Dawson a blank check like that is a very good idea. What if he asks Jen to let him snort coke off her bare ass or something?