What inspires Pam when she's painting?
1. Composition is key. by Skedundie
2. Maintain perspective. by Skedundie
3. Keep a strong contrast. by Skedundie
4. Watch the negative space. by Skedundie
5. Honesty, Courage by Skedundie
I don't own anything. Thanks to my beta, Sharky! I'm new at this so I would say "Thank you muchly!" to any and all feedback.
“1. Composition is key.”
composition [kom-puh-zish-uhn] -noun1. the organization or grouping of the different parts of a work of art so as to achieve a unified whole.
2. a settlement by mutual agreement.
Many people have a fear of the blank canvas. You have to decide what you want before you can begin. Of course, there’s room for change and improvement, but you have to make a mistake first before you can paint over it.
Pam stared at the blank canvas in front of her. Her professor had given her a list of things to remember whenever she’d paint. Mistakes she’d made last time. She didn’t want to make the same mistakes again.
The list was clipped to the top of her easel. The first one read “Composition is key.” Composition is a beginning. She knew she should be thinking about her work, but instead she thought about Jim. Lately when she painted, he was all she could think of.
She and Jim had a beginning, too. She remembered it well. There was something about that first lunch with him. She was just too inexperienced to realize how special it was. Too blind to identify it.
She started to mix her paints and her mind drifted.
***
It was the new guy’s first day, and she had noticed him right away. She was the first person he saw when he came in, and he put out his hand for her to shake it. His name was Jim. He was sweet, seemed very polite, and smiled a lot.
When one o’ clock rolled around, she set the phone to automatic voicemail, sent out one more fax, and got up to go to lunch. She hadn’t noticed him watching her like a hawk, waiting for her to get up so he could ask her if she‘d like to have lunch with him. He suggested they go down the street to Cugino’s. He said he’d seen it driving into work. She agreed, meaning to tell him that she had actually brought her lunch with her, but she didn’t. It looked like her turkey sandwich was going to stay in the fridge until tomorrow. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.
He held the door for her as she got into his car, held the door for her at the restaurant, and pulled her chair out when she sat down. Roy hadn’t done that in... she honestly couldn’t remember if he had ever pulled her chair out. She was starting to wonder if this guy was just super polite or if he had a little crush on her.
Nah... no one ever got a crush on Pam.
He sat across from her and started to look at the menu. They made a little small talk and the waiter came by and quickly took their orders. The restaurant was surprisingly quiet for a lunch hour.
“So. Pam.”
“And you’re... Jim.”
He smiled at her. She immediately thought he was cute. She didn’t feel guilty; no one had to know.
“How long have you been at Dunder Mifflin?” he asked.
She made a face, raised an eyebrow. “Too long.”
He laughed. Easily, comfortably. “Not what you want to tell the new guy.”
“I know, I shouldn’t,” she said. “But I’ve never had the luxury of being able to warn someone before.”
He took a sip of his Coke. She took one of her Diet. They talked and talked, falling into a rhythm that Pam had never taken part in. She didn’t really recognize it, but she knew she and this Jim would get along just fine. There wasn’t anyone else at work she ever really talked to. This might be nice.
“So what do you like to do when you’re not answering the phone, and... filing?” Jim kept asking questions about her. He seemed so interested in her, and seemed to really listen when she answered.
“Well... I do like to draw.”
“Really? That’s awesome! What do you draw?”
Pam looked at the little pile of ketchup next to her fries. She always got a little shy when talking about her artwork. “Um, well... I like drawing landscapes, and I’ve taken some figure drawing, and sometimes I like to do portraits.”
“Well, you’re definitely going to draw me something right now.” Jim reached over to the next empty table and plucked up a napkin. He moved her plate aside and set it in front of her, handing her a pen, and sat back, looking expectantly at her and smiling.
Pam’s mom always did this whenever they were around new people, and she usually hated doing it. But for some reason she took the pen and shrugged. “What do you want me to draw?”
“Surprise me.”
They were silent for the next three minutes as Pam started sketching. She kept looking up at him, and he realized when she was done that she had drawn his face.
She nervously handed it to him, and closely watched his reaction.
“Wow.” He looked at it closely. “This is great.” She could tell he meant it. She didn’t necessarily think it was; the lines were too thick and she had made his hair a little too fluffy. But he gazed at it, and then at her, and said “You are one talented little receptionist, Beesley.”
It was the first time, ever, that he had called her that. She remembered it.
He folded the napkin once, careful not to fold over the drawing, and put it in his shirt pocket. “I’m going to save it, so when you’re rich and famous I can say I knew you when.”
She’d heard this from everyone she’d drawn for in front of her mom. This was the first time she believed it. He probably would keep it. He seemed so genuine, she found it hard not to believe him.
She tried not to blush, and failed.
As they were walking back to his car, she unconsciously used a “we” while talking.
“Wait a sec... who is ‘we?’” Jim asked.
“Oh! My fiancee, Roy.”
In the split second she looked down to negotiate the stairs, she missed his face drop ever so slightly.
“He actually works at Dunder Mifflin, too.”
“Ah,” Jim replied.
For the rest of the day, he didn’t smile.
***
Pam hadn’t recalled the memory of her first day with Jim in a while. She found it ironic, in retrospect, that the day she met him was the day she had dropped her engagement ring off at the jewelers for repair. One of the baguettes was a little loose.
She wondered if he still had that napkin. Knowing Jim, he probably did. But she didn’t feel like she knew him anymore.
She looked again at the canvas. She had covered it with blues. In her mind’s eye she knew exactly what she wanted it to look like. She hoped she could make it that way. If it turned out to be a mistake... well, she’d fix it. She’d change it.
She plunged her paintbrush into her water jar, and the clear water was pierced by a dark blue serpentine swirl. Soon the whole jar was murky.
“2. Maintain perspective.”
perspective
[per-spek-tiv] -noun1. a technique of depicting volumes and spatial relationships on a flat surface.
2. the faculty of seeing all the relevant data in a meaningful relationship.
Pam looked at the next rule on her list.
Perspective. The illusion of depth. Kind of like her relationship with Roy had been.
She didn’t have enough perspective when it came her relationship history. She’d been with Roy for so long, her entire adult life, that she had no idea he wasn’t what she needed. She had no idea that what she needed was someone who saw her for who she was. Someone who knew who she was.
She now knew that person was Jim.
Too late. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. She almost laughed at the irony. Talk about perspective, she thought.
She knew she was supposed to be thinking about horizon lines and vanishing points, but again her mind wandered.
***
For nearly three years, work seemed to fly by. For the first time since she started at Dunder Mifflin, she looked forward to going every day. It was just... more fun with Jim around.
Sure, there were days he wasn‘t there. He always called her when he’d call in sick, even though he was supposed to call Michael. Even when he sounded incredibly sick, he would always think up some clever prank to pull on Dwight, and she’d always call him at 5:05 to tell him how it went.
Over three years, together they had played 619 pranks on Dwight. Pam had eaten 726 Mixed Berry yogurts, Jim had 726 ham and cheese sandwiches. 700 of those they had eaten together. (She was so bored one day and staring at the back of his neck had made her start to wonder, so she took out the calendar and had estimated. )They had shared too many laughs to count. Pam had cried in front of him exactly twice. Once because she cut herself on a staple, and it hurt a lot more than it looked. The second time she had had a huge fight with Roy.
Both times Jim had made her feel better.
They were building an incredible friendship, one that she never realized would come crashing down into a million pieces.
It was the night of the Dundie Awards. Roy had taken off, bored with Michael’s show. Pam didn’t want him to go; as much as she hated the Dundie awards she felt a strong camaraderie with her work buddies. And the look on Michael’s face when she was leaving made her feel bad.
But he left anyway, and she returned. Jim was alone at a table, his usual amused look when watching Michael’s antics just looked kind of bored and a little depressed.
He saw Pam sit down and lit up. “Hey! I thought you left.”
“No, I decided to stay. I’ll just get a ride home with Angela.”
Jim watched her reach across the table and take a sip of his beer. Actually, she kind of took his beer. He didn’t seem to mind, he looked amused.
One of Jim’s beers and three cocktails later, she was feeling pretty good. After she and Jim had steered the awards ceremony back on course after some hecklers interfered, she was thrilled to be receiving the “Whitest Sneakers Award” from Michael.
“Pam Beesley, ladies and gentlemen!” Michael announced. For a minute she absolutely adored him. He had given her the “World’s Longest Engagement” award for two years and she was dreading a third. She bounded up to claim her award, and read it just to make sure she hadn’t heard him wrong.
She went through some thanks. “...Finally, I want to thank God, because God gave me this Dundie.” She was holding the Dundie in her left hand. She fanned out her fingers, eyeing her engagement ring. It suddenly seemed like a joke. The one time Roy wasn’t there, she wasn’t feeling ashamed and insignificant. She felt like she could do anything she wanted. “And I feel God in this Chili’s tonight.” She looked at Jim. He looked as proud as one can look after watching someone receive an award based on their tennis shoes.
She let out a triumphant yell, and everyone clapped. She hugged Michael and gave him a peck on the cheek. She really was thankful he had decided to spare her this year.
Then she ran up to Jim and hugged him. She wasn't sure if it was the booze or if it was that he just smelled so good or if she just plain wasn't thinking at all, but she planted a kiss right on his lips in front of everybody. She was fully aware she was doing it and she sat down before she could see his surprised reaction, thinking more about her Dundie in that moment than anything else.
Later, she and Jim were sitting alone outside Chili’s on a bench, waiting for Angela to pull her car around. Pam was a little dizzy and wanted to sit down. She was feeling a little sick, and was not looking forward to the hangover she knew she’d suffer tomorrow, but she hadn’t felt so elated in a long time.
“Did you say something to Michael?” she asked him.
“About what?”
“You know what I mean. About the Dundie.” Jim knew she hated getting that damn “Longest Engagement” award. He knew that was the real reason she hated going to the Dundies.
“Um... guilty,” he grinned.
“Ha! I knew it.” She smiled down at her shoes, unsure of what to say next.
“So, Whitest Sneakers, huh?” Jim said, taking the award and checking it out.
“Yup. That’s right, Tallest in the Office.”
Jim chuckled. “I know, right? I think Michael just gave up on me. That ‘Hottest in the Office’ had my name on it, and Ryan just swooped in there.”
Pam smiled. She took her Dundie back from him. She thought he was Hottest in the Office, but even in her drunken haze she felt she had already crossed enough lines tonight to tell him that.
Instead, she changed the subject. “I feel bad for writing that stuff about Michael on the bathroom wall.”
“No, you don’t,” Jim said. They shared a laugh.
Angela arrived and Jim helped Pam up off the bench, leading her to the car door. He was being so sweet, waiting with her, and helping her to the car. And talking to Michael about not embarrassing her this year. And... well, there were lots of things. She had wondered before, but she wondered again... maybe he did have a little crush on her.
She stopped a second, glancing at Angela in the car. Angela was paying more attention to checking all her mirrors than to anything else. Pam turned to Jim, suddenly wanting to know. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot,” Jim smiled. He stepped closer to her and waited.
Pam noticed one of those camera guys hiding in the bushes, filming their every move. Now wasn’t the time.
“I just wanted to say thanks.” For being you. For being Jim. For actually caring about me.
“It’s not really a question,” he laughed. “Okay. Let’s get you home, drunk.”
She smiled. He wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe she’d ask him some other time. When it was right.
She tried to come up with a reason she kissed him the entire ride home.
***
It was easy to look back on it now and know she should have asked him, then and there, ‘What is this thing going on between us?’
Hindsight is twenty twenty.
Still don't own anything. Wish I did. Thanks to my betas, Sharky and xoxoxo!
Thanks so much for reading, guys! I'm enjoying writing this one a lot.
“3. Keep a strong contrast.”
contrast [kon-trast] -noun, verb1.opposition or juxtaposition of different forms, lines, or colors in a work of art to intensify each element's properties and produce a more dynamic expressiveness.
2. to compare in order to show unlikeness or differences; note the opposite natures, purposes, etc., of.
Pam never had the luxury of contrasting Roy and Jim before she knew how Jim felt. She never compared them; she didn’t feel the need to. They were two separate entities in her life: Roy was her lover. Jim was her friend.
If only she’d realized earlier that “friend” and “lover” could be one and the same.
The painting was beginning to take shape. Her darks were dark and her lights were light. She was starting to see what the end result could look like.
***
“We watched a video on our changing bodies.” Pam giggled.
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Did you really?”
“No.” She laughed. “Almost.”
He put his hands in his pockets and smiled at her.
She suddenly had an urge to tell him. “But.. hey. Something kinda cool... there’s this internship in graphic design that Jan was telling us about. She made it sound... like, really great.” Pam played with her necklace while she told him. It was a nervous tic, and talking about her art made her a little nervous.
“Nice! What’s it all about? I think you should do it.” He grinned at her. It was so easy to talk to him about these things. “That’s great!”
“It’s really cool.” She handed him the pamphlet Jan had given her and told him about the details. He hung on every word.
“Well, you know I’m your number one fan, Beesley.” He handed the pamphlet back to her. “I know you’ll do great. It’s about time you got out there!”
Pam thought about it all day. She could definitely make it work, as long as she was willing to give it the time and effort. And she was, because it sounded fantastic. She couldn’t wait to tell Roy about it.
It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be.
“Come on, Pammy. If you do this, what am I going to do on the weekends? I’ll practically never see you anymore.”
She sighed. “I know, Roy, I thought about that too. But it’s only for six months, and it could be great, you know? It could be really good for me.”
His frustration was evident. “Didn’t you already take classes in college for this stuff? And it didn’t get you anywhere.”
The words stung a bit. It was true. She’d always been a little too afraid to show her portfolio anywhere. For some reason, lately, she had been feeling different lately.
“Babe, I really want to try this,” she said. It hadn’t occurred to her she might have to sell him on it.
“I don’t want you doing it. It doesn’t guarantee anything’s going to happen, and in the end it’s only going to wind up being a huge waste of time.”
She bit her lip and looked down. She hated to admit it to herself, but he was probably right.
“Don’t worry, Pammy. Someday you’ll have all the time in the world to paint and do all that crap.”
When?
He gave her back the pamphlet and walked out of the room.
The enthusiasm and excitement she was feeling earlier had completely disappeared. She knew she wouldn’t convince Roy this opportunity was worthwhile. And she couldn’t fully commit to it without his support.
She trudged back over to her desk, tossing the pamphlet into the trash can. Jim noticed and looked up at her. They exchanged a brief glance, and she knew he knew exactly what had happened.
She suddenly felt uncomfortable with him looking at her like that. Like he knew what she was feeling and thinking. It was unnerving.
He followed three minutes behind her into the break room to “get some coffee.” She was sitting alone at a table and looked up at him.
He looked disappointed in her. She didn’t like it. “So, you’re not doing it.” It wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement.
“How did you know?”
He wasn’t going to explain he had practically overheard everything. “Why not?” he almost whispered.
“Just- no big reason. Just a bunch of little reasons.” She was hedging.
He set down the coffee pot and turned to lock eyes with her. He was imploring her not to B.S. him. “Come on.”
She couldn’t lie to Jim. “Roy’s right. There’s no guarantee that it’s gonna lead to anything anyway.” Her voice was sad.
“Roy said that.” Again, it was more of a statement than a question.
She felt that discomfort again. As if he was seeing directly into her. “What? You have something you want to say?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it.
“You gotta take a chance on something sometime, Pam.” He was being serious. Jim was rarely serious, so she knew he meant it. “I mean, do you want to be a receptionist here, always?”
She knew he didn’t mean to hurt her, but she flinched. Her eyes widened. It hurt because it was true, and she was embarrassed Jim knew her own secret fear.
So she got defensive. “Oh, excuse me. I’m fine with my choices,” she declared with such false conviction she almost believed it herself.
Jim took her in. “You are?”
“Yeah.” She was mad at him. How dare he ask her that.
He looked at her for a minute. She set her jaw and looked away. She had nothing more to say to him.
“Okay.” He stirred his coffee and tossed the stick into the trash. He walked out the door, his eyes never leaving her.
She wanted to follow him out and apologize for being so defensive. He always seemed to have her best interests at heart and she wasn’t sure why she felt such irrational anger. She wanted to, but she didn’t.
There are always a million reasons not to do something.
She picked up her mixed berry yogurt and angrily stirred it. The lid promised there would be no fruit on the bottom, but there it was again. Fruit on the bottom. I‘m trying a different brand next time, she thought.
She knew she wouldn’t.
***
The memory made her hungry for a yogurt. She grabbed one out of the fridge and peeled the lid off. She sat back at the easel and looked at her unfinished painting. She realized she had no idea what to do next. She had forgotten the original composition.
She got to the bottom and found those damn chunks of strawberry. She didn’t want to deal with them, so she pushed them aside and ate around them.
“4. Watch the negative space.”
space [spays] -noun1. emptiness, the area around an object or form
2. linear distance, separation or physical distance
It was always a tough challenge for Pam to know when not to paint something.
Negative space implied emptiness. She seemed to feel so empty these days. Jim was around, but he wasn’t present in her life anymore. He was just... there.
***
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Jim smiled. She couldn’t help but smile, too. His kiss had literally made her brain stop working. She knew there was a reason she shouldn’t be kissing him...
“Me too,” she was being honest. She gazed up at him. She had thought about what it would be like to kiss Jim before, several times. Usually when Roy was being a dick.
Roy.
“I think we’re just drunk,” she said. She was lying to him. But it worked the last time they kissed, so what the hell?
His eyes changed. “I’m not drunk. Are you drunk?” She could tell he knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t get anything past him. Except, apparently, the way she really felt about him.
“No.” She couldn’t lie to Jim twice in five seconds. Her eyes softened, and he was leaning in to kiss her again.
“Jim.” She stared at him, dumbfounded. He backed off and looked at her. There were a hundred emotions within her but the one at the forefront was her fight or flight response. She chose flight.
He knew it. “You’re really going to marry him?” He looked positively heartbroken. Her entire body went numb. She couldn’t speak anymore, so she gave the most non-committal response she could, which was a nod. She was nodding, and he was saying “okay,” and she was feeling him slip away, physically and figuratively, and she still couldn’t speak. Before she even knew what she had done, he was gone.
She stood alone in front of his desk. She wanted to go after him, even in that moment, and explain to him that something in her brain had actually exploded and she couldn’t think straight. She needed time to process everything he was saying to her with that kiss... that he loved her, more than just a friend, and he wanted to be with her, and her alone.
Did she want to be with Roy? God, she didn’t even know anymore. There was suddenly another option on the table, and that had never happened to her before. Roy had always been her only option.
Didn’t Jim understand that? Didn’t he realize that, with those words he had said to her in the parking lot, he had turned her world upside down? Couldn’t he tell she did love him by the way she kissed him back? That she’d probably rather lose anything in the world than him?
She looked at the clock on Jim’s desk. It was 11:53. She had noticed the clock said 11:21 when she hung up with her mom. She didn’t know if they had been kissing that long or if she’d been standing here alone that long. Everything was a blur.
She felt sick. She wanted to get home to Roy, suddenly felt the need to be reassured she had made the right decision. If she had made one at all.
She had asked Jim earlier to give her a ride home when Roy told her he wanted to leave. “Keep an eye on her, Halpert,” Roy had said. Jim had effectively stranded her here, but she wasn’t mad at him. How could she be?
She got a ride from Ryan and Kelly. She was dead silent in the back seat, trying to keep it together. Kelly, of course, wouldn’t shut up, so for once she was grateful to be in the same car as her. Kelly’s hand was on the back of Ryan’s neck, her fingers twirling in his hair. Pam closed her eyes because it made her think of her hands in Jim’s hair. In spite of herself, she let her imagination wander. Not ten seconds had gone by when she admitted to herself that she wanted him. She wanted him badly.
It didn’t matter that Roy was his usual just-barely-good-enough self. Pam picked up the phone and set it down at least a dozen times over the weekend. She wanted to talk to Jim, since she knew he was hurting. But she didn’t want to call him. She wanted to be able to see him, to look into his eyes when she told him that yes, she loved him too, and she would rather be his.
Monday morning she got into work at 9 am. Michael was already in his office, and he looked busy (she could hardly believe it) so she didn’t disturb him. 9:15 rolled around and Jim still hadn’t come into work. 9:45. 10:00. At 10:30 the curiosity was killing her. Did he think it would be so awkward he called in sick? She certainly hadn’t heard from him that morning.
She knocked on Michael’s door.
“Come in!” She walked in and saw Michael at his desk. He looked a little frazzled, but in good spirits. “Pam-a-lam-a-ding-dong! Good morning!”
“Hi, Michael. Did you have a good weekend?”
“Ha! Yes, indeed, Pam, I had an absolutely phenomenal weekend. Carol came back to my place after the Casino thing, and we-”
“Oh, no no no. No, Michael.” Pam made a face. “That’s okay, I believe you. Um... do you by any chance know where Jim is?”
Michael looked at her. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Pam suddenly knew something was wrong.
“He is gonzo, outta here! Left us in the lurch, my lady.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently he was promoted and transferred to the Stamford branch.”
“How long have you known about this?” Pam could feel herself breaking a bit, but she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.
“Well, Pam, I just found out this morning. Jan called me, and apparently he’s had this set up for a week.”
She couldn’t feel her body anymore.
“A week?”
“I’m totally bummed. I’m surprised he didn’t tell me.” Michael got that faux-serious look in his eye, when he thought he was saying something poignant. “Maybe he just... didn’t want to believe it was real.“
Pam was speechless.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” Michael kept hitting her where it hurt. “Aren’t you guys good friends?”
She choked on her words. “Maybe... he thought it would be too hard...” she was grasping at words because she wanted to leave Michael’s office. Now.
“That’s what she said,” she could hear Michael screaming after her as she briskly walked to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and collapsed against it, sobbing. She was too late. He had left her.
***
Pam stepped away from her easel and looked at the painting. She took another step back. And another.
There was something wrong. She was tempted to just walk away from it, get some space, and then maybe she’d figure it out.
Then she looked at the last instruction on her list.
Taking a deep breath, she approached her masterpiece. It was finally coming into focus.
This is the last chapter! Hope you guys like it. NBC owns all these characters, not me.
Thanks again to my betas, sharky and xoxoxo. Sorry this took so long to get up! (TWSS) I've just gone back to work this week. Enough excuses, on with the story!
“Honesty, Courage”
honesty [on- uh- stee]
1. truthfulness, sincerity, or frankness.
courage [kuhr-ij]
1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
She had handwritten the last item on the list herself. Just two words that had burned into her brain ever since she had overheard them at her art show. “Those were never really Pam’s strong points,” Oscar had said. Honesty. Courage.
She wasn’t being honest with Jim. If she were, he would know she wasn’t okay every day she sat at her desk. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him, so she hid. She stared at the back of his neck, some days longer than others, remembering how soft his hair was and how lucky she had been to touch him, even though it was just once.
Karen caught her looking one time. She quickly drew her attention back to Solitaire, and felt the all-too familiar twinge of jealousy creep up her spine. It was unbearable.
Pam looked at the painting. It was almost done, but she had hit a wall. She wanted to finish it, but leaving it incomplete seemed more attractive. She was safe not knowing what the finished piece would look like. Maybe she wouldn’t finish it. Maybe she could just leave it on the easel.
Stop it, Pam. You’ve got to stop being so scared. Maybe that’s what Oscar meant by “courage.” She was terrified at the prospect of Jim rejecting her. Terrified he had found someone else who knew what she had when she had it.
Pam hadn’t known.
She put her brush to the canvas and painted.
***
“...Hey, Jim.” She was sitting in her usual spot at reception. Jim was on the way out the door with Karen.
“I won an art contest today.” She was smiling, but a little unsure of what his reaction would be.
“No way!” He was grinning from ear to ear. She hadn’t seen him grin like that in... well, since he’d gotten back to Scranton months ago. She was happy to know she could still make him smile. “All right, Pam! Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” she said as he slapped her a high-five. He started to ask her about the award.
“You ready, Jim?” Karen bitched from the doorway. Pam was taken a little off-guard, but Jim seemed to handle it.
“Yeah.” He started to back out of the room, still looking at Pam. “Can I see it when I get back?”
“Yeah.” Pam waved him out, as he turned back to congratulate her again. And again.
He was gone from the room, but Pam felt surrounded by his encouragement. “Big deal!” he had happily exclaimed. The art contest wasn’t that big of a deal, it really wasn’t. But it meant something to her, and he made her feel valuable. He was the only one all day who had made her feel as if she had accomplished something. And it made her love him even more.
An hour later, Jim and Karen came back from their coffee break. Jim shot Pam a quick look that she couldn’t identify, and then went straight to his desk. She had already loaded the page online so Jim could see her painting, and she wondered why he hadn’t even asked her about it.
She wasn't an expert at reading the back of Jim's neck, but right now it seemed to say “Don’t ask me about anything.” So she didn’t.
5:00 rolled around, and Pam wasn’t quite ready to shut her computer down and pack in in for the night. She was still holding out hope that Jim hadn’t completely forgotten about her and would come ask to see her painting.
She watched Karen turn off her computer, grab her purse and lean against Jim’s desk.
“You ready to go?” she asked him.
Jim drew a breath. “I’ve still got about 45 minutes of work to do. I’ve got to organize Dwight’s clients for redistribution tomorrow.”
“Then, shouldn’t you be at... Dwight’s desk?” she asked.
“Well, yeah. I was just about to move.” It wasn’t like Jim was lying. Michael had given him that last-minute assignment after Dwight had abruptly quit. (Pam remembered because she overheard Michael asking Jim if keeping him late was going to ruin their friendship.)
Pam wondered why Karen sounded so... suspicious. Had something happened while they were at coffee?
“I’ll come over when I’m finished, okay?” Jim said.
“Okay.” Karen started to go. Her hair had thankfully flattened a little from Phyllis’ awful makeover, and she had removed most of the makeup.
“Have a nice night, Pam,” she said as she walked past reception. Pam noticed the slightest hint of frostiness in her tone.
“You too, Karen.”
Stanley, Toby, and Michael were the last to leave. Even the camera crew had called it a night. Pam and Jim were the only two remaining in the office. Jim was now at Dwight’s desk, facing her. He was hard at work on Dwight’s computer. Pam looked at him for a minute, then decided she really couldn’t drag this out any longer without making it obvious she was hanging around for him. She turned off her computer and got up to leave.
“I told Karen about us, so... that’s why she’s being weird.” When Jim spoke it was so unexpected that Pam practically jumped.
“Oh.” She suddenly got a chill. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was the first time since his first day back that he had acknowledged anything had ever happened between them. “What did you say?”
“Just, you know, that there was a little bit of history between us. I didn’t go into any detail or anything.” He was still sort of plucking away at the keyboard, half-interested in whatever he was working on and half-interested in what he was saying. Or at least pretending to be.
“Wow. That must have been uncomfortable,” Pam said, because she couldn‘t think of anything else to say. “Why... did... I mean, did you...?” She trailed off. She wanted to know how on earth that conversation came into existence.
“I don‘t know, exactly. I sure didn’t bring it up.” He was still looking at the computer screen.
Pam wondered how Karen found out. Did she maybe pick up on something? Was it Michael? She definitely wouldn’t be surprised. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. She walked over to Jim’s desk and plopped down across from him, her arms wrapped in her coat and scarf in front of her. She looked him dead in the eyes.
“I didn’t say anything to her, if that’s what you think.” She didn’t say it angrily. It was in a small voice, smaller than her regular voice.
He finally looked at her. He sized her up. “I didn‘t think you did.” She could tell he hadn’t known until just then. But he believed her.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Pam’s mind was on the two of them, right here, not so long ago, in a very different situation. Her eyes flickered over to Jim’s old desk just for a moment, but long enough for him to see it. Was he thinking about the same thing?
She didn’t want to know yet, so she didn’t ask him. He was probably thinking about Karen instead of her. How she was waiting at home for him to pick her up, and how no matter what Pam was thinking about in that moment it wouldn’t stop Jim from carrying on his life the way he wanted to.
So she broke the gaze and got up, starting to head out.
So much for courage.
“Pam.”
She turned around. “Yeah?”
“You said you’d show me your painting. You know, the one that won the contest.”
She had forgotten all about it. “Oh, yeah!” She went over to where he sat at Dwight’s desk. She told him what web address to type in. The web page was a little complicated so she reached for the mouse.
She gave him a moment to decide to move his hand, and when he didn’t, she put hers over his and guided the mouse to the proper link. What a cliche, she thought. But she didn’t mind at all.
The page loaded up and Jim looked at the painting. “Wow, Beesley.” It was exactly like when they had first met three years ago and he was looking at her artwork for the very first time. She wasn’t surprised at his reaction. Jim had loved everything she’d ever drawn. He didn’t say anything for a minute.
She realized her hand was still on his, that neither of them had moved even though there were plenty of reasons they should. Pam couldn’t describe the feeling. It was as if they were both willing participants in some ilicit affair, and all they were doing was viewing a web page.
He decided to slide his hand out first. Using the painting as an excuse, he pointed at part of it and asked Pam a question. She answered it, and the feeling was gone.
After a bit of small talk about her painting, he changed the subject. “Well, I’d kind of like to get out of here sometime tonight, so I should probably finish this stuff.”
“All right.” Pam started to leave. “Have a good night, Jim.” She didn’t want to think about what he’d be doing.
“’Night, Beesley.”
She walked out without another word.
***
That moment when she touched his hand had been the highlight of the past couple months. It had been nice being back together with Roy, and even for a short time feeling like there was someone there who cared about her. But those moments hadn’t even come close to the way she had felt standing so close to Jim, with her hand on his.
Now it was even over with Roy. She didn’t have anybody anymore.
It was a good thing, Pam realized, that she had given Roy a second chance. Even if things weren’t going to work out with Jim, at the time she had called off their wedding she wondered if it had been a mistake. Now she knew, for sure, that she had made the right decision.
It didn’t make work any easier, though. Jim still came in with Karen, and left with Karen.
Pam put her paints away and went to bed. Tomorrow was Monday... another week of torture.
When she got into work, there was a note from Roy taped to her computer. It simply asked her to meet him downstairs, in the warehouse. For a brief moment she was a little apprehensive, but it quickly disappeared. As angry as Roy had gotten last night, she knew deep down that he would never deliberately hurt her.
She was a little concerned about Jim, however.
She descended the stairs and saw Roy right away. His face was indescribable. He looked completely worn out, but there was still a trace of anger left in his features She knew him long enough to know that much.
They wordlessly walked into one of the storage aisles where they wouldn’t be seen or overheard, hopefully, by the nosy cameras. Pam wasn’t going to speak first.
“I’m so sorry about last night,” Roy started.
“Roy, I don’t think-”
“No, no, I know. It’s over. I get it.” He put his hand to his forehead and grimaced, like he had a headache. “I just... want to clear the air, you know?”
Pam nodded. “I’d like that, too.”
“So, why don’t you tell me. Whatever you want. And I promise I’ll listen.”
She hesitated. What possible reason could she have to tell Roy anything anymore? It wasn’t as if anything was going to happen with Jim, not at this point. Then she looked into his eyes for a moment, and knew he knew it was really over. She couldn’t believe how... sad his eyes were. He tried to appear angry and frustrated, but after ten years she knew him better than she cared to admit anymore.
“Okay,” she said. “The truth is, I really wanted you and me to work. I really did.”
Roy looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept to his word and let her talk.
“I told you about Jim because it’s been eating me alive for months. But even if you hadn’t reacted the way you did, I think we still would have wasted another three years and then broken up again.”
“‘Wasted?’” he asked.
Pam didn’t want to hurt Roy. She just wanted everything to be over. She was so tired of it all.
“Roy, I love you. Part of me always will.” She took his hand. “But it took me three years to realize I’ve been falling for Jim ever since I met him.”
Roy winced at the sound of Jim’s name and looked away from her. The anger was back.
“Please, Roy,” she pleaded. “Don’t be like this. Nothing happened before that one night. You have to believe me. I didn’t even know Jim had feelings, real feelings for me until that night.”
“Is he why you called off our wedding?” His eyes were glistening. She’d never seen Roy cry once in ten years. Pam looked down.
“I thought he was.” She really did at the time. Jim’s confession had made her question her relationship with Roy, really question it for the first time since they’d been together. She didn’t know if things would ever be right again with Jim, but she knew for a fact things were wrong with Roy. “But I realize now that I want something else. Something more. Someone who can give me more.”
“You mean you want Jim Halpert.”
Roy looked into her eyes and she saw pain. She’d seen it before, but this time she could see something else that she had certainly never seen: defeat.
“I‘m so sorry, Pam.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I should have been able to give you what you wanted, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
She wrapped her arms around him. It wasn’t like this the first time they broke up. He didn’t throw glass then, but there was anger, and confusion, and humiliation. Not sadness, or this bittersweet feeling. Roy had been her whole world, and it had taken her ten years to find life outside him.
“Do you still love him?” he murmured into her hair.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I do.”
He was quiet for a minute, and she could feel his heart beating. He was silently sobbing, and she knew what he was feeling. He was losing her. She knew that loss only too well.
“I do care about you, Pam. I really just want you to be happy, you know that, right?” he asked her. His voice was gruff, but she could hear the tears he was trying to hold back.
Pam nodded. He had never been like this, ever, and she knew she’d never see it again. She felt an overwhelming desire to stay there with him for a moment.
“I want you to be happy, too.”
“And I don’t want you to be with me if you’re just pretending.” He was returning to normal again. Not angry, but not heartbroken. Just Roy.
“I know,” she said. “I don’t want to have to pretend.”
“Then this really is over.” He stepped back and looked at her. “Pam, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And I hope whatever guy you wind up with lets you know what you mean to him before it’s too late.”
Pam smiled. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her fingers barely touching his chest. “Thank you, Roy.”
It was hard to believe she'd finally gathered the strength to be honest with Roy for the first time in months. It felt good. She felt free.
She left him and headed back upstairs. She realized she hadn’t asked him if he planned on pummeling Jim, but all suspicions of that seemed put to rest.
She stopped in the bathroom and composed herself before returning to work. When she got back and sat down, she noticed Jim was watching her curiously. After a few minutes, she realized practically everyone was stealing glances at her. The she remembered that most of them had witnessed the scene last night and all possibility of getting through this day with dignity was probably shot to hell.
Jim got up and walked over to her desk. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” she looked up at him.
“Are you... okay?” he looked genuinely concerned.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, I heard... something happened last night.”
“Something did happen last night. Roy and I broke up.”
“Yeah... that‘s kind of what I heard. I‘m sorry, Pam.”
“Are you?” The words were out of her mouth before she even had time to know what she was saying.
He seemed taken aback momentarily. He lowered his voice a bit. “Um... well, if you really are fine, which you seem to be, then I gotta tell you... not really.” He grinned. “You really deserve more than him, Pam. You do.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant it in any way besides that of a supportive friend. But she’d take it; at this point, just talking to him was already taking away the sting of the morning. So she smiled back at him.
She decided to whisper, since they were in earshot of several people. “I know that now. I wish I’d known it sooner.”
Their eyes spoke volumes to each other. In that moment, everything was understood. Just left unsaid.
He tapped the counter a couple times and took a deep breath, turning around to sit back at his desk. Pam saw that Karen was engrossed in her work and wasn’t really paying any attention to them anymore. Maybe, Pam hoped, Karen had given up. Maybe Karen realized Jim could never love her the way she deserved, just like Pam knew Roy couldn’t for her.
Maybe.
Later that afternoon, Jim spun around in his chair and stole a glance at Pam. He stood up and walked over to her desk. Without a word, and without his eyes leaving hers, he took his wallet out of his pocket, opened it up, pulled a piece of paper out of it and dropped it into her inbox.
Confused, Pam reached for it. It wasn’t a piece of paper.
She was looking into a familiar face. It was the napkin she had drawn on for him over three years ago. He had saved it, after all. Even though she had broken his heart. Even though he was with someone else. Even though their friendship had suffered so many trials.
She looked up at him and he smiled. A nice smile. The way he used to smile at her.
She turned the napkin over.
It was written in red sharpie.
You’re amazing in so many ways, Beesley. No matter what happens, I’ll always be your #1 fan. -Jim
She was so engrossed in her napkin, by the time she looked up again he was back to work. She gazed at the back of his neck. This time she knew for sure what it was saying.
Save for a couple necessary folds, the napkin was still in perfect condition. Overwhelmed, she put it in her desk drawer and shut it gently.
She couldn’t wait to get home and finish her painting. She now knew exactly what it was going to look like. She wasn’t going to blow it this time. She was going to get it right.