Have you ever thought about

What protects our hearts

Just a cage of rib bone and some other various parts.

So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess

And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable

Girls and boys

You fasten my seatbelt because it is the law.

In your two ton death trap I finally saw

A piece of love in your face that bathed me in regret.

Then you drove me to places I'll never forget.

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable

Girls and boys

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable girls...

Breakable, breakable, breakable girls...

Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys...

 

The mechanics of cutting meat was pretty funny when you thought about it. Especially when someone did it the wrong way. Well not the wrong way - just a different way than people typically did it. Typically people used their dominant hand to do the cutting, and their less dominant hand to do the holding down part - the part that made it so the meat wouldn't slide off the plate.

 

Pam did it differently. Pam used her dominant hand to hold the meat down and her less dominant hand for cutting. She also tied her shoes differently than most people. Why these things - in this moment - caused my mouth to quirk upwards in a grin, I didn't know. Perhaps it was easier than focusing on what was really going on.

 

Collecting mundane little details about Pam was my hobby...but since we'd arrived here - at her parents house - at this time, it'd become more of a business for me. Nay, an obsession...What would Pam do? Would she sit down or stand when she entered a room? Would she get up and make coffee for everyone? If so would she suddenly decide to use only half a scoop for 5 people or pile enough coffee in the filter for a small army?

 

Unfinished sentences, half eaten snacks...she was a walking cliffhanger this week, and I found myself a little bit afraid of the next episode.

 

Tonight, she was cutting entire steak into the smallest little pieces I'd ever seen. Then she finally tasted it. The expression on her face never changed...it was like she hadn't tasted anything at all.

 

"So what did Janice have to say?"

 

I looked up, at the sound of Allison's voice. Hearing it sent a warm feeling through me. Pam's mom's voice sounded like Pam's sometimes and it seemed like eons since I had heard Pam's voice.

 

"She and Shaun and the kids...they may not be able to make it down until a couple of days after Thanksgiving...sounds like they're snowed in. Also Shaun's arthritis is acting up. Doctor Ferguson's got him on some treatment...He's gotta go in for these injections once a month...Janice says he's gonna have to use his sick leave. The guy's already used, what? Four days of it now?..."

 

Pam's father paused mid sentence, in an effort to catch his breath. He glanced around the table, from his son Frank Jr., his wife Allison, to myself, and then finally landed on Pam.

 

"God who am I gonna will all this useless information in my head to: Shaun's doctor's name, the frequency in which he needs to be treated for his arthritis...Can I leave it to you Pam, do you want it?"

 

Pam smiled softly as she looked up at her father. "I'll take it."

 

Thank you. I wasn't sure who I was thanking, but I was thankful none the less for the sounds that had come out of her mouth...for the smile.

 

Frank glanced at Allison and she held up one palm. "Lord knows I don't want it...Pam can have it."

 

"Frankie? Taker?"

 

"No thanks," Frankie said, scooping some more mashed potatoes on to his plate. I suspected that Frankie wasn't much of a talker under the best of circumstances. Pam's little brother wasn't exactly verbose.

 

"Jim? You want a piece of the action?"

 

I sat my fork down and toyed with the linen napkin on my lap; flashed Pam a smile from across the table before glancing back at her father. "No sir...I think I've got probably about the same amount of useless information in my own head...but thank you though, I appreciate the offer."

 

"That true Pamela?"

 

"He's got all kinds of knowledge. Some of it not so useless," she said with a slight quirk of her mouth.

 

There you go...come on out to play. I know it's crazy but...

 

She averted her eyes. I took a sip of the red wine in front of me, careful not to spill. Pam's mom was a master at the art of housekeeping. The table pristine, the settings spectacular...crystal and china.

 

I felt like I had to be extra careful not to break anything.

 

The dreaded silence settled in again and I searched for words. It wasn't usually this damn difficult.

 

"Your sister lives where again?"

 

"Missouri," Allison said, piping in for Frank before he had a chance to answer my question. I wondered why she kept doing that. The man wasn't eating much...the least he could do was submit to an interview. "And they can't make it until after Thanksgiving, huh?" Allison said, this time turning to her husband.

 

He shrugged. "That's what she said."

 

Allison just nodded and speared the next piece of her steak with a bit more force than was probably necessary.

 

"Allison, it's fine."

 

At that, her fork clattered to the fine china beneath it, and she glanced up at her husband with an expression that could only mean that it was anything but ‘fine.'

Wow...

 

Pam looked up, her eyes wide. "Mom..."

 

Allison tossed her napkin down on the food in front of her. "Excuse me."

 

I sat mesmerized by the way a small spot of brown from the steak began to spread over the white linen. The whoosh of the kitchen door swinging closed behind Allison quickly brought me out of the details and back to the whole thing...the whole overwhelming...thing.

 

I licked my lips nervously, noticing for the first time that they were really, really chapped.

 

"What the hell difference does it make when they get here?" Frank asked, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "I'm just as likely to be dead tonight as I am the day after Thanksgiving...What - they'll be here in time for the leftovers."

 

Wow...bad, BAD timing -

 

Pam glared at her father for a moment and then there was another whoosh of the kitchen door as she disappeared in after her mother.

 

Frank Jr. glanced at me. "You want a beer?"

 

"Um...yes please."

 

~~~~~~~

 

 

I watched as she pulled her night shirt and a pair of socks from our shared suitcase and bundled them into her arms...for the third time. When she turned around, our eyes caught for a moment and she smiled.

 

"Sorry for earlier...at dinner. My mom's still...I don't know..."

 

"No - Pam...it's totally ok. I mean...under the circumstances -

 

"And I'm sorry for not," she gestured towards the bed I was perched on the end of; the guest bed that I would be sleeping in alone. "I don't know it just feels weird to sleep together....in my parent's house. I know it's crazy...I know we're adults, and they obviously know that we -

 

"No, don't worry about," I heard myself say.

 

I was unbelievably unselfish this week. Look at me being a grown up.

 

She smiled again and started collecting things out of the suitcase. She sat her nightshirt and socks down again...apparently she couldn't commit to what she wanted...

 

What would she do next?

 

I knew what she wouldn't do. What she would not do was turn to me with tears in her eyes and yell about how unfair it was that her father was dying. Scream that because of the terrible cancer that was eating away at him, this would be their last Thanksgiving together here on this earth. Pam wasn't going to do that - of that I was 98.5% sure.

 

The ‘this isn't fair' phase had lasted all of an evening for Pam, after she'd first found out a few months back. There'd been tears at first...but even those had been abnormally subdued.

 

It was a cruel thought...it wasn't that I wanted her to feel pain. But I did want to shake her! Everything in me wanted to stand up, cross the foot between us, put my hands on her shoulders and shake her until she came out of this...this place - wherever it was that I couldn't fully access her.

 

Because if I hadn't been able to get through to her before, it'd been even harder since we'd gotten to this house yesterday. Since yesterday the fence around her had turned from wooden to steel.

 

And now I felt guilty because all of those thoughts lead back to one conclusion...she needed to be something else - for me.

"You ok?" Stupid, stupid question. Of course she's not ok.

 

She frowned a bit and nodded quickly, bending back down to rummage through her toiletries. "Totally...I just need...have you seen my tooth brush?"

 

I stood up and grabbed my own bag, quickly pushed the contents aside. "No...but this is yours," I said grinning, as I held up the round pink compact of her birth control pills.

 

And NOW I'm thinking about sex again...God what is WRONG with me?

 

"Oh weird...maybe my tooth brush is in there then?"

 

We'd packed quickly, our things getting tumbled all together. It wasn't entirely impossible that she'd left her toothbrush lying on her bed back home.

 

"Yeah, I don't see it."

 

Pam sighed heavily. "That's......I guess I'll go buy one...the drug store's still open I think."

 

She was getting ready for bed. She'd already taken off all her make-up, her eyes were heavy with the fatigue...and she wanted to go the store? For a tooth brush?

 

"Here, just use mine..." I said holding it up.

 

She found my eyes. "No...I think I'm just gonna go -

 

"Pam, I'm pretty sure if I was gonna give you cooties you would have gotten them by now..."

 

I chuckled at the close of that sentence, because she looked as if I'd stricken her.

 

"No, I..." Shook her head...I watched in silent horror as her eyes started to fill with tears. Crap.

"I know," I said grinning like an idiot. "I have a great idea...Why don't we just go to the store?"

 

So maybe I wasn't as eager for her to cry as I thought.

 

~~~~~~

 

 

The store was too damn bright. Everything that was wrong with the world was illuminated. Racks and racks of celebrity gossip about who was too fat, too strung out, or just far too rich for their own good.

 

It illuminated other things too...the dark circles under Pam's eyes as she perused the shelf of toothpaste and brushes. Seriously?...There were this many kinds of toothbrushes? How had I never noticed this?

 

"I used to work here."

 

The comment was off-hand. She hadn't even looked up when she'd said it, but I made a grab for it anyway!

 

"No way ...I can not believe that the Pam Beesly employee magic was first displayed here...."

 

"Yep," she said smiling up at me. "High school...I loved it."

 

I didn't mind seeing that smile under bright lights. I licked my lips and remembered that I needed chapstick.

 

"Why on earth did you love it?"

 

She shrugged. "I don't know...the orderliness? Is that a word?..."

 

"I think so."

 

"Just...everything had its place, you know? I'm probably the only person on the planet that loves doing inventory."

 

I smiled at her and reached out to stroke her hair - because that was something else that the bright light of the store made spectacular and I felt literally compelled to touch it -- but then she was bending down again. Out of reach...crouching down in front of that lowest shelf of toothbrushes.

 

I put my hands back in my pockets.

 

"Pammy?...Pammy is that you?"

 

We both turned at the sound of his voice.

 

"Oh my God...hey..." Roy said coming down the aisle. His smile died when he saw me..."Halpert?"

 

"Hey...Roy," I said, returning the enthusiasm of his greeting. I shoved my hands even deeper inside my pockets.

 

I watched as Pam smiled and stood to her full height. The smile...well the smile met her eyes. She wasn't just trying to smile, or trying to be amused or grateful...she was actually just - smiling.

 

"Hey," she said, and Roy reached out to hug her.

 

I averted my eyes...searched for a toothbrush that might be to her liking... maybe I'd get a toothbrush too. Or maybe not...maybe I'd just use my old cooties infected one.

 

They were whispering. They probably didn't mean to whisper...but they were - whispering.

 

"Hey...I'm really sorry, Pammy.".....

"It's ok..."

.... "I'm gonna stop by on Thanksgiving."

 

Oh that's so awesome...So glad Roy's going to be able to spend Thanksgiving with us. That'll be just......great.

"How's your mom holding up?"...

"Ok. Not so good."....

"Yeah...you?"....

He was rubbing her back then. That was nice...that was thoughtful......Asshole.

 

"I'm doing ok - you know."...

"Yeah, call me if you need anything - anything ok? Really."...

"Yeah...thanks.....God, when was the last time I saw you here?"....

"I know total déjà vu feeling right?...I don't know - probably my last day?"

 

Oh cute...lots of smiles...Old times. You worked here together? Oh...that's...

 

"I remember you always loved doing the shelves...so weird. You would have rather done the shelves than ring somebody up in a heartbeat..."

"Right...right......Jim?"

 

I looked up because someone was addressing me. Could quite literally feel my eyebrows rise up into the stratosphere. "Yep?"

 

"I was just...I think this is the one I wanted," she said tapping a brush against her palm.

 

I nodded...and thought about perhaps manually pulling my eyebrows down. "Ok."

 

"Ok," Pam said, glancing at Roy. "We're gonna just..."

 

"Sure," Roy said, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow then at some point."

 

"Ok...yeah...bye..."

 

She asked me if I was ready as she walked towards me, slipping her hand into mine. It took me a moment...I actually hesitated before squeezing her fingers. It's like I suddenly wasn't sure what to do...what not to do.

 

I recognized the feeling then - all of a sudden it was like being thrust back in time. A time back before I knew what my role was.

 

"Jim?"

 

"Yeah...let's go."

 

 

 

By the time I fell asleep that night in a bed that wasn't familiar, without a body that was more familiar than my own, lying next to me - it was time to get up. The smell of turkey woke me, making me jolt upright in bed. In that instant, I was certain that I'd slept right through the day and now it was dinner time.

 

Pam's going to kill me!

 

I glanced over my shoulder at the alarm.

Thank God.

 

It was still early....Apparently the Beesly's started Thanksgiving festivities earlier than the Halperts did.

 

My parents had been really understanding when I'd called to say I wouldn't be making it this year. So, understanding in fact that thinking about our conversation even now made me feel guilty.

 

It being my first official Thanksgiving with Pam...there are certain expectations that I'd had. Most of which involved showing her off to my family and friends back home. I know...it sounds horrible even thinking about it...but I'd talked about her so much! For years! I wanted to prove once and for all that she actually existed...that I hadn't made her up, and that she was as wonderful as I'd described...and that I was finally, finally happy. But of course being with her family had taken priority.

 

"No...you do what you need to do," my mom had said encouragingly. "I'll muddle through somehow."

 

"Mom -

 

"I'm kidding. Are you the only one allowed a sense of humor?...Honestly, Jim...her father is dying. Of course you're going to spend the holiday with them. Your father and I understand. We actually prefer your sister and brother anyway."

 

"Thank you...so much."

 

"Anytime...give her a kiss from us."

 

"Will do."

 

When we'd hung up, something had clicked for me though. It may have been the first time I'd realized how monumental this relationship had become. My own mother had said ‘of course' you're going to spend the holiday with her - her father is dying. ‘Of course.'

 

I was a part of something bigger now. It wasn't just - ‘what am I doing for the holidays' anymore. It wasn't just assumed that I'd be at my parent's house. I'd been welcomed to adulthood - real adulthood - in that instant. I was now a member of a committee that made decisions that had nothing at all to do with myself or my own comfort or well-being. I was a part of the Pam and Jim committee.

 

I liked it.

 

And even though the circumstances were horrible - her father was dying - when I'd gotten off of the phone with my mom that day...I'd been certain of one thing: this was it...this was my life - with Pam.

It was that thought that pushed me beneath the stream of hot water to wake myself up and got me dressed and down the stairs as quickly as I could even though someone was dying. I needed to be there for Pam.

 

A football game was playing in the family room...

 

"Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about!"

 

I stopped cold on the bottom step. You have GOT to be kidding me.

 

Roy.

 

He'd said he'd stop by. Did stop by mean this early? Did stop by mean insinuate yourself into the living room, on the couch next to Pam's father with a beer in your hand....

 

Jeez.

 

"Good morning Jim."

 

"Good morning Frank," I said, swallowing hard against rising bile in my stomach. Suddenly my palms were sweaty.

 

Ridiculous.

 

Frank Jr. who everyone lovingly referred to as Frankie, lifted his own beer in silent salute, before Roy turned to me and gestured towards the seat next to Frankie.

 

"Hey Halpert...take a seat, we're just watching the game here."

 

Thank you so much for inviting me in...

"Nah...not y- ...I'm gonna go see Pa -

 

"She ran to the store real quick. She'll be back."

 

I forced my tongue to stay exactly where it was and nodded silently before taking the spot next to Frankie on the other couch.

 

"You want a beer?"

 

It wasn't even noon yet. "No, I'm good...thanks though Frankie."

 

"We ran out of cranberry sauce. My mom makes this cranberry rum cider..."

 

"Oh...that sounds good."

 

"Girls could you stop talking about your recipes?...We're watching a game here, right?" Roy said shaking his head before taking another swig of his beer. "Frank? You want another one man?"

 

Pam's father nodded and Roy got up quickly, headed for the kitchen. Maybe he'd fall on something on his way there...maybe he'd trip and...puncture...something.

 

I looked at my hands and forced myself to stop clenching my fingers. One by one I laid them flat against my jeans. I glanced at the game and then back at Frankie, "Who you for?"

 

"Nobody...I hate football."

 

There was something I really liked about Pam's younger brother. It was really the first time I'd hung out with the guy for longer than an evening. Something about how incredibly honest he was though, drew me in. He was honest to a fault sometimes...but honest none the less. I admired that.

 

Frankie was in that strange kind of limbo that I remembered really well. Being home on break during his second year of college and feeling like he wasn't quite a member of his own family anymore. You might look exactly the same and sound exactly the same, but when it came right down to it, you were in a completely foreign land.

 

The culture had changed. The things you used to find completely acceptable no longer were and the things you now found interesting weren't interesting to anybody else.

 

I was figuring out a little about Frankie. It was Frank senior that I still couldn't quite figure out, and was scared to death that I wouldn't have the time to. Scarier than that - was the thought that even if I was miraculously given time - I still wouldn't know him.

 

The older man sighed, and shifted his socked feet on the foot rest that extended from the couch. His breath rattled eerily when he did it.

 

"You doing ok today Frank?" Dear God. What's wrong with me? Why do I keep asking everyone that stupid question? This guy is actively DYING and you ask him if he's doing ok...idiot.

"Peachy," Frank said, with a quirk of his lips. "You?"

 

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Excited for some turkey...it smells really good."

 

"Jim. My wife's turkey is really good...I don't even like turkey - it's that good."

 

"Wow," I said smiling. "Does she know that?"

 

"I think I told her once when we were first married...it was bad timing though."

 

"Oh really?"

 

"Yeah...she was fumbling around with the damn thing...trying to get it out of the sink. I told her I didn't like turkey and before I could get the rest of the words out of my mouth -

 

"She hauled off and threw it at you."

 

"Hey! Thank you sir...thank you for ruining my story!" Frank Sr. said to Frank Jr. "And that's not how the story goes...she said "oh really?" then dropped the turkey on the floor and stormed out of the room.......I finished making the turkey that night and it was horrible."

 

I wasn't sure what the moral of that story was, but I found myself with tears in my eyes anyway as I laughed. Something about the image of perfect Allison Beesly, dropping the turkey on the floor...it felt familiar.

 

"God, she's just like her mother, my Pamela...All quiet and then suddenly BAM!...You suddenly know you made a big mistake."

 

Frank was the only person on earth who called Pam, Pamela.

 

I smiled. "No idea what you're talking about."

 

Frank grinned back. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't."

 

"Would you look at that! Score!" Roy cried, coming back into the living room. He handed Frank a beer, and plopped down next to him.

 

"Nothing until you came back in here."

 

"That's because I'm a lucky charm Frank...Just call me Lucky Charm - Roy."

 

That was funny. I had a list of things I called Roy in my head...and Lucky Charm wasn't one of them.

 

"That what happened?" Frank said grinning back at Roy.

 

The mood had shifted once again. Things had been going well between Frank and I . I'd finally felt like I was getting somewhere! And then there was Roy again.

 

Roy who felt like maybe he was a well-worn part of the upholstery here in the Beesly household. While I felt...I felt like a brand new piece of furniture that they'd picked - that they liked even...but they were still getting used to it. They still weren't sure it was quite as comfortable as their old furniture. Weren't sure it quite meshed with all the rest of the knick-knacks.

 

I wanted to mesh. I really, really wanted to mesh. More than I ever wanted to mesh with any group of people in my life.

 

"Hey Frank...remember that time Pammy and I broke that window?" Roy asked, pointing at the window behind the television.

 

Frank rolled his eyes and coughed a loud hacking kind of scary cough. Roy turned positively white - in that moment he looked sicker than Frank did.

 

Next to me, Frankie tensed. "Dad -

 

"Y-yeah......yeah....I remember," Frank said then, his eyes seemingly permanently bloodshot from the hacking. "Why you wanted to teach my girl football I'll never know..."

 

"'Cuz Frank Jr. caught like a girl!"

 

Roy, back to your old self...nice to see you buddy.

 

Frankie flipped Roy the bird and turned again towards the game that he hated.

 

I really liked Frankie.

 

"Pammy was pretty good at football actually...it was just that one day," Roy said, barely able to get the words out over his own laughter.

 

Frank started laughing too. "I remember she came in here in tears...trying to take the blame for you...didn't want me to make you pay for the window."

 

"But you did!"

 

"Of course I did! I knew who'd thrown it...Wasn't gonna let you off the hook that easy."

 

"Man, you never let me off the hook....always bustin' my balls..." Roy's voice trailed off as if he'd thought about something else just then. Like he wasn't in the memory at all anymore.

 

"Somebody needed to...." Frank said before taking another long drag from his beer.

 

I tried to focus on the game, while keeping one ear peeled for the sound of the garage door opening. I could only take so much of memory lane.

 

"I remember having to work every weekend just to pay for that new window..."

 

Frank cackled. "What the drug store wasn't paying you enough? Even after I pulled all those strings to get you that job?"

 

Soooo....Roy had worked with Pam in a drugstore. The same drugstore where Frank Beesly had helped Roy get a job. Aww...this Beesly-Andersen history lesson was really, really informative and special.

"My minimum wage ass couldn't afford shit back then...God..."

 

"How's the new job," Frank asked then. "They treatin' you right?"

 

Yeah are they providing you with boxing gloves for when you go on the attack with office staff?...What the hell! Shouldn't he have been asking ME those questions? Uh, I was pretty much his daughter's fiancé - the new one! Well...not quite. We weren't...I hadn't...

Jeez...

 

"No, real good Frank...real good. I think I'm actually gonna land the promotion. The boss pretty much guaranteed it when we talked last week. My friends back in Scranton are gonna flip out when I tell ‘em I'm the foreman."

 

"Congratulations," Frank said, and I listened as their beer bottles clinked.

 

"Yeah...thanks. It's good. It's real good."

 

I thought I'd been wishing so hard, that I imagined the garage door opening, but then I heard keys in the door and I quite literally sprang out of my seat.

 

"Hey," I said pulling the door open. I took Pam's grocery bags from her, and leaned around to kiss her cheek. Her poor cheek felt like ice, and I instantly wanted to take her in my arms, warm her up...

 

She moved past me, "Hey."

 

I followed her into the kitchen, dumping the bags I'd taken from her on the island in the middle of the room.

 

"You ok?"

 

What the HELL, Halpert?

 

"Yeah...um, do you mind helping my mom? She's got more bags than I do...apparently we needed more than just cranberry sauce," Pam added, an obvious edge in her voice as she rolled her eyes.

 

So shopping with mom hadn't been the best of girl-time...

 

"Oh yeah?" I said grinning.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Ok..." I said, realizing she hadn't intended on elaborating. I followed the draft outside, because the draft inside seemed even colder.

 

Allison struggled with some of the bags as she pulled them out of the trunk. Her SUV parked only halfway in the driveway.

 

"Need some help?"

 

"Oh...Hey, Jim. Yes....thank you. What's my husband doing?"

 

"Um...on the couch with Frankie and Roy...watching the game."

 

"Drinking?....Yeah, I can tell by your face that he is. Damn it...You know, I'm not sure how many doctors have to tell him to..." she shook her head. "It's ok...whatever...Can you take this please?" She said blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

 

The action reminded me so much of Pam that it made me stop for a moment.

 

She's inside you idiot...How can you miss her so much when she's just inside?

 

"Oh uh...yeah sure," I said leaning down to heft a ham off the ground. There was enough food to feed an army. Even though I was pretty sure it was just going to be the 5 of us tonight. "Wow...Allison you got a lot of stuff."

 

"Well...Roy's here. He eats a lot. Actually would you ask him to come out here please? I have a couple of things from his mother, and I want him to put them in his truck before I forget."

 

I licked my lips. Ow...fucking chapstick....If I'd known she was going to the store...

 

"Uh...yep. Sure."

 

Right as I was about to force my feet to move towards Roy, Allison sighed heavily and I stopped.

 

"Do - do you need me to do anything else?"

 

She shook her head tiredly. "No Jim...thank you though. You're such a big help."

 

The words sounded so heartfelt, that I had to wonder what the hell she was seeing that I wasn't. I wasn't helping at all.

Her grief had clearly addled her ability to think rationally.

 

Frankie was walking outside, rubbing his hands together to stave off the cold. "Jeez mom...what the hell? Are you feeding everybody in the county? This doesn't make any sense."

 

"Oh please don't start with me...Who's the one who's going to be raiding the refrigerator tonight and crying when he doesn't have enough to make a ham sandwich? Just...make yourself useful, ok?"

 

I started back towards the house as Frankie muttered, "Ham sandwich my ass...God forbid Roy shouldn't have enough for a care package."

 

Yeah...like Frankie more and more by the minute.

~~~~~~

 

Once all the groceries were put away or in use in some sauce or casserole, there was a moment...a moment in time when it felt normal. It felt like maybe I might be able to catch a minute with Pam that wasn't skewed by the facts that we were in her parents house, that it was Thanksgiving, or that her father was dying, or that Roy was here...

 

A split second to capture us...

 

"Hey," I said grabbing her hand when her mom left the kitchen for a moment. "I was thinking...Do you wanna go for a walk or something?"

 

And just then...just then something flickered behind her eyes. Something that unequivocally said, ‘Please...yes...please take me away from here.'

 

"It's gonna be awhile before we eat right? You could show me that house...The one you were talking about with the ter-

 

"I can't."

 

The words were out before I could even finish my sentence.

 

She looked down, "I just...I need to keep..." She shook her head...

 

Standing so closely in the kitchen...our one quiet moment, I found myself once more fixated by the colors in her hair. I pressed my lips to the very top of her head, letting them linger there for a moment...When I went to wrap my arms around her, she pulled back, sidestepping the embrace.

 

"Pam -

 

"My mom...she's gonna need help. I have to be here. Maybe we could go out later though?...

 

"I really think -

 

"Frankie!" she called loudly, turning her back to me. She leaned against the island and shot her voice towards the stairs. "Frankie!"

 

"He's taking -

 

"What Pam!" Frankie called emerging from his bedroom at the top of the stairs. "Jeez, I'm taking a nap!"

 

"Well I'm sorry to bother you, but I need your help getting the Christmas tree down!"

 

I sighed, "Pam I can -

 

"What?!" Frankie called back.

 

"I know! It's..." her voice trailed off and she looked at me and grinned shakily. The volume of her voice was for me now, "My mom wants to put up the Christmas tree tonight after dinner...I know - crazy..."

 

I swallowed around the sudden lump in my throat. I knew I wasn't imagining the very real touch of hysteria in her voice.

 

"That's fucking crazy!" Frankie called back.

 

"Hey!" Pam shouted back at Frankie. "Watch your language!"

 

"Ok, I'll watch my fucking language! I don't know where the Christmas tree is!"

 

Was this really happening? Seriously?

 

"I didn't ask if you knew where the Christmas tree was, I asked you to help me get it down!"

"For God's sake what's all the yelling about?" Frank Senior said, rounding the corner, Roy hot on his heels.

 

Jeez...

 

"Nothing Daddy," Pam said walking over to him. She rubbed his back slowly. "Do you need something?"

 

"I need you stop waking the dead - They're my future bffs and they don't wish to be disturbed.

 

I hung my head and shook it back and forth. Timing...man...timing of the jokes...NOT optimum.

 

Frankie came bounding down the steps, yanking earbuds out of his ears. "Pam where is it?...Jeez."

 

"In the garage."

 

I touched her arm, "Pam let's just -

 

"Want me to help Pammy?"

 

No she doesn't want you to FUCKING HELP - back off!.....Wait - who was I thinking about? Me or him? Who's help didn't she want?

 

Pam sighed in frustration. "Sure...whatever, just...Frankie get the ladder. I also need all the boxes of decorations."

 

Oh.

 

Frankie was shaking his head as he walked out of the house. Roy followed.

 

Roy...Roy was helping.

 

The door slammed behind the three of them, leaving Frank Senior and myself in the kitchen staring after them.

 

"Wow," Frank said. "And here I thought we were only going to get to enjoy the festivities of one family holiday..."

 

I only nodded. He really needed to stop trying to be funny.

 

 

Thanksgiving dinner was an even more solemn affair than dinner the night before...well for me it was. Everyone else seemed to be having at least an ‘ok' time if not a ‘good' one. Jokes and family stories flowed. Roy and Frank Sr. providing commentary on Thanksgiving's past. Even Allison laughed as Roy brought up more household items broken and high school football games won and lost.

 

The thing was though...there was always that sickening lull after the laughter.

 

Conversational lulls were the worst even under the best of circumstances. First dates, job interviews...all full of conversational lulls. But these kinds of lulls...lulls because everyone was scouring the very deepest corners of their minds for something - anything to fill the silence...they weren't just awkward - they were scary.

 

I took a look around the table, during one particular lull and decided to take my chances. "This turkey is fantastic Allison."

 

Allison smiled and smirked at Frank. "You tell him the story, Frank?"

 

He grinned. "What story?"

 

"Allison where's your sausage stuffing?" Roy asked around a mouthful of cornbread stuffing...because apparently he had to.

 

It seemed Roy had to interject himself into every single conversation there was. He was physically incapable of quiet.

 

"Oh honey I'm sorry, not this year. I always have to drive all the way to Stamford to that specialty store for that sausage...and it just wasn't going to happen this year."

 

"Oh man...I coulda gotten it for you. You shoulda told me!"

 

"...Don't you like the cornbread stuffing?"

 

"No...totally. Yeah....of course."

 

Yeah Allison ‘of course'...moron.

 

"...It's just not the same as your sausage one...that's all."

 

I turned to glare at Roy, but he didn't exactly pick up on the cue to shut up. Nor would he have taken the cue even if he'd noticed it.

 

Allison looked particularly tired and in that moment I wanted to kick his ass. By my count it was the 132nd moment of the day that Roy deserved an ass kicking. But of course what would we have done without Roy? Who would have gotten down Christmas trees and decorations? Who would have kept Frank company while everyone else prepared enough food for a small country?

 

"Well...I'm sorry," Allison said finally.

 

Roy got all sheepish at her apology and of course, another glare - this one from Pam. "No...no, apology necessary Allison...this is delicious."

 

Pam smiled her approval at Roy then before turning to Frank and I wanted to scream at her. What...what was going on? What was with all the Roy love? It was never-ending. It was non-stop, Roy smiles...

 

And I know my thoughts were that of a 10 year old but I didn't care. At that moment, I did not care.

"Daddy do you want extra potatoes?" Her hand was already on the ladle.

 

"No sweetheart, I'm fine....thank you," he said.

 

Frank's voice seemed even quieter than usual. I watched as he slipped his hand atop the table and threaded them through Allison's. She never looked at him, she just lifted a glass of wine in her other hand and sipped. The glass trembled...

 

Pam was rattling off dessert options. "There's pumpkin pie, cheese cake, and those little pecan tassies that you love so much Daddy..."

 

"Great," Frank said, nodding.

 

The enthusiasm in her voice...literally broke my heart.

 

The guy couldn't eat. He'd forced himself to eat the minimal amount of food he'd actually put on his plate. Pam either wasn't noticing...or couldn't notice. I expected the latter.

 

I spoke up quickly, desperate for her not to see. I was turning into a bigger contradiction than she was this week. Look at what's going on around you Pam...No, no for the love of God, don't look.

"Allison I'll deny this if you ever repeat it...but your turkey is actually better than my mom's..."

 

Allison's eyes grew wide. "Well...thank you Jim."

 

"Seriously..."

 

"Pammy, remember when you were on that vegetarian kick senior year? You swore up and down you weren't eating turkey that Thanksgiving and then by the time the turkey was almost gone, you almost dove for it! You couldn't stand it..."

 

Everyone laughed. I guess it had been a better redirection than mine...

 

"I thought poor Frankie was going down when you yanked that piece out of his hand!"

 

An uproar of laughter. Even from Frankie.

 

Suddenly, as good as the turkey was - I'd lost my appetite, completely. I laid my fork down against the plate and when I looked up, Frank was watching me. Our eyes connected for a moment, before he looked away - smiling at Pam.

 

"I know...I know," she was saying. "My stint as a vegetarian didn't last very long."

 

"Sure didn't. You like burgers more than any girl I know..." Roy said laughing mostly on his own then.

 

Allison drained the remaining drops of her red wine and stood. "Pam will you help me clear the table?"

 

"Sure," Pam said standing up quickly.

 

I started to stand as well. "Oh honey, you don't have to help," Allison said. "You're a guest. You just stay where you are...we'll be right out with dessert."

 

Right...Guest.

 

Frankie cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go get some air."

 

I sat down and watched as Frankie left the dining room and listened as the front door shut behind him.

 

Alone with Frank and Roy...wonderful.

 

"Hope it wasn't something I said," Roy said.

 

Frank leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He looked up at the ceiling and seemed to blink a few times as if to clear his head. "Oh, I'm sure it wasn't."

 

"So whadya say Frank...video games tonight? Me and you? Halpert you in?"

 

"Oh, uh I...I don't know. I think we're going to be -

 

"We're going to be decorating the tree...That's what we'll be doing," Frank said finishing my sentence. There was a sense of finality in his voice that I hadn't ever heard before. As if he was daring anyone to argue with him.

 

He wouldn't get any from me.

 

"Oh...yeah..." Roy said a bit bashfully. "We'll have time though afterwards...decorating's not gonna take all night, right?"

 

"Yeah..." the man said curtly. "It might."

 

It was the first time I'd read pure annoyance on Frank's face and in his voice...and for some reason I felt like maybe I didn't need to be around if it was directed at Roy.

 

It was the weirdest thing. If Roy was gonna get reamed why the hell wouldn't I stay? It'd been what I was wishing and hoping for...A Christmas gift come early!

 

I lifted myself out of my chair. "I think I'm gonna go out and get some air too...I'll be back in a little bit..."

 

I walked out without another word, desperate for the space and the freedom of the cold, frosty air just outside. I hadn't been at all prepared for a smoking, crying Frankie on the front stoop.

 

Jeez...

 

"Oh man, I'm - ...I'm sorry...I just thought I'd get some air or..." I started to turn around. "I'll just - "

 

"It's fine," he said sniffling. He took a long drag from his cigarette and dragged the back of his hand beneath his nose; used the heel of his hand to swipe at his eyes. "It's fine...just...sit down - you must be going crazy in there..."

 

I shook my head, felt myself make a face as if he were crazy. "I'm ok."

 

Frankie shook his head. "My dad's dying...it's the only reason I'm here this year. Your reason isn't nearly as good."

 

"Well...I'm with Pam...so..."

 

Frankie looked at me like I was some kind of alien life form for a moment. "Hmph."

 

I had no idea what that sound meant...wasn't sure that I wanted to. But I sat down on the cold front porch, a couple of feet from Frankie anyway. We were silent for a few moments before he spoke again. I imagined it was less because he had nothing to say and more because he needed to get himself together before he could say anything.

 

Oddly enough the silence was...comfortable.

 

"I'm glad you're with her," he said finally as a puff of smoke whitened the night sky.

 

I nodded. "Me too."...What else was I supposed to say to that?

 

"I gotta tell you though...I'm a little pissed that you're with her, and I'm still having to share my Thanksgiving with that asshole in there. I thought you meant the end of all that."

 

You and me both, buddy.

 

"What? Oh you mean -

 

"Yeah Roy...I'm obviously not a member of the Roy fanclub. Never have been...well, maybe for one shining moment when my sister brought home a boy for me to play with....but I figured out soon enough that he wasn't here to be anybody's big brother."

 

I made a face, "Oh come on...you mean he didn't take you under his wing and show you the key to being a man?"

 

Frankie smiled, "God...my parents loved that guy."

 

I swallowed. Don't you mean LOVE - as in present tense? Where is the shrine exactly? Have the 8x10 glossies been stowed under my guest bed? I'll look later on...

 

"I mean I think they knew some of the shit that was going on...but they never really - I don't know...as long as Pam was happy. She was a freaking moody ass teenager and Roy made her happy at least 35% of the time...the other 65% of the time was like an episode of the Guiding Light...but she was even less happy when she was with us as a family, so...I guessed they split the difference."

 

I desperately wanted to know what ‘some of the shit that was going on' meant, but was too afraid to ask. It was stuff that Pam would have told me if she wanted me to know...and so far - she didn't want me to know it.

 

"You wouldn't know it...but Pam's actually really good at covert shit."

 

Oh. It looks like I'm gonna find out some stuff anyway. Maybe I should -

 

"She would sneak in during the dead of night...never ever fucking got caught. But so many times she'd come in crying...like all the time. It was ridiculous. I remember asking her once in my naviete why Roy made her cry all the time...God, I think I was like 9 or 10 years old, she told me I was too young to understand relationships."

 

As irritating as that was to hear, it wasn't exactly news.

 

I stood up...I didn't really want to hear about Roy and Pam. I'd come out here to escape that. "I think I'm gonna take a walk around the block."

 

"Ok," Frankie said, lighting up another cigarette. "Thanks for skipping the lecture by the way..." he said gesturing towards his bad habit. A habit I would have thought would have been extinguished (forgive the pun) by his time here this week.

 

I shrugged. "...Not my place."

 

Frankie smiled. It was one of those weird smiles where you knew the person was thinking of something else but they weren't going to tell you. I guess you'd call it an ‘All-Knowing' smile.

 

"Hey, listen..." Frankie began as I stepped onto the path towards the sidewalk. "It's just...memories...You know that right?"

 

"What?"

 

"They're just...it's just memories in there. That's all they want. It's all they have room for right now...They're not stupid. They'll snap out of it...She will too."

 

I had no idea what that meant and didn't really feel like thinking about it. I was sick and tired of memories myself.

 

"Ok...see you in a bit."

 

"Yeah...don't forget we have to deck the halls."

 

I wandered farther than I should have. It was too cold to have walked this far without gloves on and my hands and they were throbbing. I made fists inside of my pockets and thought about what things had been like the first time I'd had dinner with her parents...before the bad news.

 

They'd been lovely. Really, truly lovely. Things had been awkward of course, but that had quickly worn off. Her mother had laughed at all my jokes to the point that she'd nearly cried - which is always my goal. And Pam's dad had shaken his head good naturedly at my stories. We had the same taste in sports teams, felt the same way about certain players...Agreed that certain publications oughtta be shut down for their opinions on such players, and both of us had the same passion for Pam's art.

 

It had been great.

 

When Pam and I had gotten back to her apartment that night, we'd barely made it through the front door before she'd pushed me up against the wall and tore into me like nothing I'd ever experienced before....

 

Take this off - right now...No...not my room...here...

I'm not a complainer...that night will rank up there with the best nights of my life...but it was certainly unexpected and our love making had been crazed. Frenzied to the point of chaos (we'd broken a lamp).

 

Afterwards she'd clung to me like a vine on a wall as we lay on her living room floor, the summer heat surrounding us...I'd decided right then and there that I wanted to spend as much time with her parents as possible. They were a very good influence on her.

 

This visit however, was decidedly different.

 

And of course it was. Her father was dying. Of course she didn't have time to spend with me - hand hold through the awkwardness. Of course she didn't!

So why couldn't I reconcile that? Why did I find myself watching from a far and wishing she'd just look at me? Just...look.

 

Because I couldn't remember the last time our eyes had held for longer than a passing second; and a second that had been a mistake, judging by her quick aversion.

 

So then what, Halpert? I asked myself. You two lock eyes and then what...the real world melts away? She stops hearing the death knell and comes running into your arms? You decide to hell with it all, go home and pull a prank on Dwight just for old times' sake?

Grow the FUCK up.

I sighed and pulled my hand out of my pocket just long enough to glance at my watch. I'd been gone for almost 40 minutes...shit. I'd undoubtedly missed dessert.

 

I started walking back in the direction I'd come as quickly as I could. But that was when I saw it...

 

~~~~~~~

 

The warmth of the house felt so good I almost passed out when by the time I made it over the threshold. The home smelled of cinnamon and sweets. Christmas music floated towards the entrance and I followed it back towards the family room.

 

The tree had been decked with twinkly little white lights, and apparently the cranberry cider that Frankie had told me about was flowing.

 

Everyone was smiling.

 

"Hey there..." Pam said grinning up at me, as I came nearer. Her smile the softest I'd seen in what seemed like so long...

In that very instant, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.

 

I pulled off my jacket, suddenly feeling even warmer. She took it from me and laid it on the couch next to her dad. "We're gonna need you for the star..."

 

"Sure thing."

 

"You're cold though...You should go warm up by the fire."

 

Ok she HAD noticed I was gone.

"You should come with me," I said, leaning down towards her ear. Before it came out of my mouth I imagined it being an incredibly sexy thing to say...but then my voice cracked like maybe I was still in the 7th grade...so...

 

"Oh goodness...Frank do you remember when Pam came home with this?" Allison said, lifting up an angel ornament out the cardboard box nearest her feet. The ornament had clearly been hand-made, but hand-made well.

 

Frank nodded. "Third grade?"

 

"Second," Pam corrected. "Mrs. Harrison's class."

 

"Mrs. Harrison was a beyotch."

 

"Hey..." Pam said, her glare turning into a smile when she looked at her brother. "She was very nice to me."

 

"That's cuz you were a suck up," Frank said and the words came out sing-songy...

 

Apparently the rum in that cider was the best rum on the planet. The entire mood in the house had shifted. Even Roy was uncharacteristically quiet on his side of the couch with Frankie.

Pam giggled and leaned into me. I quickly took the moment to wrap my arm around her waist, under the guise of steadying her...God, she felt good.

 

"That was when I knew," Frank said staring at the ornament that Allison still held in her hands...still marveling at it as if it happened yesterday. "That's when I knew we had a little artist on our hands. It was about a thousand times better than any other kid in the class."

 

Pam smiled and let her head fall against my shoulder. I turned my nose towards her hair, and inhaled deeply...desperate for all I could get of her in front of her parents. I could literally feel the muscles in her side, loosen beneath my hand. My fingertips moved on their own...rubbing her there just a bit.

 

When I started to steer her towards the fireplace, she pulled away. "Mom...do you want to use the red balls or the silver ones this year?"

 

"I think Jim might be partial to the blue..."

 

"What?" Pam asked blankly and I threw a glare at Frankie. Come on...seriously? I mean you're right...but seriously?

 

Allison hadn't heard or was choosing to ignore the exchange, as did everyone else. Even Roy was too fixated with his cup of cider to acknowledge a comment that was right up his alley.

 

"Why don't we use all of them?"

 

"Mom...that's gonna look terrible," Pam said. "We can't use all the decorations at once...Daddy tell her."

 

"I think that we should," Allison said, drinking. I noticed for the first time that her words were slightly slurred.

 

Frank senior was barely paying attention, his eyes drifting closed on the sofa.

 

Allison got up and sat next to him. "No, no...you have to stay awake. You can't get out of an argument by falling asleep."

 

"This is not an argument," he said quietly. "It's about decorations. You and Pamela decide...I'm gonna take a little nap."

 

"No. Stay. Up." The words had more edge than she probably intended and sounded more like a command than anything else.

 

Frank stared at her for a moment and then nodded silently. She pursed her lips together and I knew it was in an effort not to cry. It was the same face I'd seen Pam make a handful of times since I'd known her.

 

I averted my eyes. It was too intimate of a moment, and an expression I hadn't learned how to stomach anyway.

 

"I think I'm going to bed," Frankie said lifting himself from the couch.

 

"Frankie, no..." Pam said, scowling as she turned her attention on him. "Just...sit."

 

The clock above the mantel said it was nearing midnight.

 

"YOU just sit. I'm going to bed...I'm tired and Christmas isn't for another month...I'm sure I won't be late."

"God you can be such a selfish ass you know that?"

 

"Shut up," Frank Senior said with much more energy than I imagined he still had left in him. "You," he said directing his attention to Frankie. "Either sit down or help your mother and your sister decorate - and You," he said directing his attention to Pam this time. "Stop being a bossy Nelly."

 

Pam smirked a little at that and I watched a blush creep up her neck.

 

"Bossy Nelly?" I asked, glancing at her.

 

"Stop."

 

"No, I'm just wondering who Bossy Nelly is...that's all. Oh - oh is that your nickname?"

 

"No."

 

"It's absolutely her nick-name," Frank senior said stoicly.

 

"God...really? How - how did you come by that nick-name?"

 

"I hate y-

 

"For busting balls," Roy said finally piping up from his spot on the couch. He looked a little out of it. A little wobbly, even sitting down. How much had he had to drink exactly?

 

Frank senior, put a hand on Roy's shoulder. "And ...you...Why don't you go on and get out of here? Go home...You worked the night shift last night - it's been a long day for you."

 

"Nah...nah, I'm good. I'm good."

 

"Really, Roy I've already put together a care package for you," Allison said, softly. "I'm sure your parents want to actually see you before Thanksgiving is over...you probably shouldn't drive though..."

 

"I'm fine," Roy said standing up. His stumbling did everything to prove that point.

 

I glanced at Pam and knew the words that were on the tip of her tongue. She was going to volunteer to drive him home...which was unacceptable.

 

Sorry. I'm not a Neanderthal...but there are certain things that just aren't done...Pam driving a more than slightly intoxicated Roy home - was on the list.

I quite literally swallowed my pride...that had to be the disgusting taste on my tongue as I said, "I'll drive you home Roy."

 

Roy looked up. "Thanks Halpert...that's...fanfuckingtastic."

 

"Oh...great," I said, and then commenced the saga of getting Roy home.

 

I say saga only because it took another 20 minutes to get Roy into the car. Between the initial hugs and kisses and Roy's constant need to go back into the house to get something....I sat in the car idling, freezing my ass off.

 

During his last foray into the house, Pam came out with him, walking him to the car. Shocker that their hug seemed to take the longest. Roy's arms tightened around her, and she seemed to almost disappear between them.

 

She didn't pull away.

 

When he finally broke away and stumbled backwards, she reached out to right him and smiled.

 

Roy seemed to fall into the car and slammed the passenger side door. "A Saab. Huh, Halpert?...Nice."

 

"Yeah no...we like it."

 

‘We' like it. Jeez...I was a little sick of myself.

 

"I fucking love that family."

 

"Yeah no...I can see that."

 

"Can you?"

 

I licked my lips and kept my eyes on the road as I backed out of the driveway. "Where to?"

 

"Just...just when you hit the second intersection make a left...It's about 3 miles up the road."

 

"Great."

 

Silence fell between us as I hit the second intersection and prayed that 3 miles would feel like 3 seconds.

 

"Gonna have to come back tomorrow for my truck."

 

"Yeah."

 

"I'm not even that drunk...that family though - always lookin' out for me."

 

"Yeah, they're great."

 

"You don't need it do you, Halpert? Looking after I mean...all your shit - it's together, right?"

 

"Pretty sure that wasn't a compliment...Let's...can we not do this?"

 

"Do what? I haven't seen you in a long time...just thought we could you know...shoot the breeze."

 

"I've actually met my quota of breeze shooting so...no need."

 

"Halpert with the one-liners."

 

Eyes on the road...eyes on the road....

 

"Hey - you know what Halpert? I have every right to still be in that house right now," he said jerking his head back, gesturing towards the Beesly home.

 

A disbelieving sound that I wasn't sure I'd heard myself make before came out of my throat.

 

"Oh...what? You don't think so? You think you have more of a right to be there because you're with Pam?"

 

"Uh...yeah, actually I do."

 

"Well fuck that."

 

"That's...descriptive."

 

"Don't fucking condescend to me Halpert."

 

I almost started to pull over. "Oh...I have an idea...how about you walk -

 

"No, how about you get over yourself. That family is my family. I'm not even talking about Pam...I know that's what you're thinking. I get it, ok? Pam's moved on. Pam and me...I don't work for Pam anymore. I got that - loud and clear I got that. But that family is as much mine as it is hers."

 

I just frowned. What the fuck...

 

"That guy...that guy that's..." Roy had to swallow for a moment. "He's like a dad to me. More of a dad than mine ever, ever was. So if it's his last freaking week on earth...I'm gonna be there. I don't care who else is there. I don't care if it hurts your feelings."

 

"Doesn't hurt my feelings."

 

Yeah it did.

 

"Good. I'm glad."

 

They were the last words either of us spoke, before Roy pointed in the direction of his parent's house. I slammed the car into park, and he jumped out.

 

Shit.

It was past midnight when I let myself back into the house. The front door left unlocked for me and a post-it note stuck too the wood. It read simply:

 

Thank you.

 

Love,

Pam

 

I stood for a moment in the quiet, re-reading those four words as if they held the key to life.  Thank you...Love Pam.

 

"You're welcome," I whispered to nobody as I toed off my shoes and shook my head. The only thing to be heard was the ticking clock on the mantel in the family room.

 

Shit...So now I wasn't sure what to do.  I now felt sorry for Roy. Sorry......for Roy .  They were three words that I never would have strung together before tonight.  Quite frankly, I never ever wanted to feel anything for Roy other than hatred...at best, extreme dislike.

 

I had an aversion to people who treated Pam badly or people who were bullies.  To my thinking Roy fulfilled both of those qualifications and he had since I'd met him.

 

I was comfortable with that. But this new sense of maybe there being more to his being here than just making my life miserable....that thought made me completely uncomfortable.

 

The twinkling white lights of the Christmas tree brought me closer to the family room, where I stopped suddenly at the entrance. Somebody was crying. It was too dark to see at first, but when I got closer my eyes adjusted and made out the two forms on the couch.

 

Crying...

 

Lying there in the darkness, with nothing but the light of the holiday still a month away, shining on them; Pam was spooned up behind her mother, holding her as she cried.  She couldn't see me, but I could see her...and she wasn't crying. She was just busy doing another job - holding her mother, rocking her as she cried for her dying husband.

 

Absolutely rooted to the spot, I stood there for a moment...even when everything in me wanted to turn tail and run up the steps. This was who she was...

 

This is who she is...

 

That phrase rang out in my ears so loudly that it was a little disconcerting. As if someone else had said it. When I felt my throat start to close and tears burn the backs of my eyes, I did turn around. I lifted my shoes from the floor, letting them dangle from my fingertips as I made my way up the stairs. Going quietly so as not to have the floorboards creak beneath my feet.

 

Once in my room I blinked hard against my tears, feeling as if my breath was stuck somewhere in the middle of my chest burning a spot right in the center. All this time I'd felt like I'd needed to do something, but I realized in that very moment, that there was nothing that I could do to take Pam's pain away.  I could try and take her on long walks, try and hold her in the middle of the kitchen...but none of that would take it away, and what Pam wanted more than anything...was for it to go away. What Pam wanted more than anything was to wake up to a world where her father wasn't dying, her mom wasn't lying in her arms crying, and her brother wasn't excusing himself to nap, chain smoke, zone out to his iPod or any combination thereof.

 

All the shared memories...the renewed fondness for Roy...all of it....All of it was an effort to bring back something that couldn't be brought back.  It wasn't nostalgia for nostalgia's sake. It was an effort to survive.

 

And I'd been pissed to high heaven because her survival tactics made me uncomfortable. They forced me to deal with the fact that I couldn't fix it.  

 

Ok...ok, I got it...I can't fix it... So what the hell do I do? Well...there I go again...But there's gotta be something...

 

I couldn't stop her father from dying. I couldn't take away her pain with jokes or long walks. All I could do was let her know that I was here - waiting...All I could do was be here when she decided it was time to take care of herself...all I could do was take care of her in ways that maybe she couldn't see.

 

Maybe...maybe all I could do was everything I was already doing - I just needed to do it on purpose now. I needed to do it without thinking she didn't love me or need me. Without thinking she'd forgotten about me.

 

Because the truth was...this wasn't about me.

 

I read the words again: Thank you...Love Pam.

 

I grabbed a pen and some of the stationary in the guest bedroom desk and started to write.

 

 

Dear Pam,

 

You're welcome. 

 

Hey, I realized that I didn't get a chance to tell you what I was thankful for today...so I wanted to do that before you went to bed.  Technically it's already the day after Thanksgiving, but it was also our first one together...so I think that gives me some allowances for extra time.  You're with me on that, right?

 

First things first...I am so thankful that I met you.  I am so thankful for the person you are. I am thankful for your parents, because they made you. Not just physically (which I'm sure you don't want to think about) - but they had a hand in making you who you are...which is just...incredible. You are an incredible, incredible human being...Do you know that?

 

In these last three days I have learned a few things about you that I either knew on some level (but didn't know the HALF of)  or simply didn't know at all...

 

You are so kind and so warm.  I've always loved that about you...but watching you with your mom and dad (and even your brother sometimes) and even Roy...I don't think I've ever been as selfless as you are. I used to pride myself on a bit of selflessness...back when I loved you in secret.  I was so extremely selfless that I didn't interrupt your relationship with Roy by telling you how I really felt...but in all honesty, I think looking back on that time, my ‘selflessness' was a little more cowardly. I'm not beating myself up. It was what I needed to do at the time...but, I'm just saying. I'm just saying you're teaching me - this week - what selflessness really looks like.  I'm thankful for that.

 

You're so strong. Honestly, I don't know how I'd handle this if our roles were reversed. The way you hold up your mom is amazing, Pam.  I aspire to be as strong as you are - it's my new life ambition - other than loving you, that's the only ambition I've ever been definite about.  So this is getting really mushy right?

 

Since I'm on a roll...

 

I don't know if I deserve the person that you are, but I'm thankful that you've given me the chance to find out. I'm thankful that you're making me into the man I want to be.

 

I'm thankful for getting to spend more time with your dad. Please hear this, Pam: the view from where he is...it's incredible. It's one of a family that loves him passionately and would do anything for him. Pam, as sad as you are...this man has everything. Everything he could ever want is right here in this house. The love of his life...kids that adore him. There's nothing else he wants for. I watch him watch you...Your sheer existence is his happiness.  He smiles when you smile. He's complete and he's whole - know that. Please know that...he couldn't have lived a better life.

 

I am thankful and humbled that I got to be a part of this family this week. I am thankful for your love.

 

I'm here...whenever you need me. I love you.

 

Jim

 

Folding up the stationary, I wrote, ‘Good night' on the top and walked down the hall to her bedroom, leaving it on top of her comforter.

~~~~~~~

 

 

I thought I was dreaming at first, but then I realized that I had never heard bedsprings in any dream or fantasy before.  Also...in my fantasies the bed was always bigger...lots of room to maneuver.

 

When I started to drown in that all too familiar softness, I knew it was real...I opened my eyes to meet hers for the most fleeting of moments before she lay her head against my chest. She slid her arm around my waist and melted against me. Her skin completely naked against mine...

 

My hands came around her instantly. "Hey..."

 

"Hey...I just..."

 

There was a shuddering that seemed to move through her entire body, so I pulled the covers up around us. "You're cold...do you want my shirt?"

 

I felt her swallow and shake her head. "No...just...warm me up...please...I just...Promise me you'll let me go first."

 

It took me a moment. I didn't understand at first what she meant. I came close to asking for clarification before it hit me...

 

I pursed my lips, because my chin started to tremble. Jeez...

 

I combed my fingers through her hair. "I can't promise that. But you should feel really good...because I'm pretty sure you just nailed the one thing that I won't promise you.  So...feel free to ask me anything else- anything. You're set for the rest of your life."

 

She took a deep breath and then she just...went. Sounds that I'd never heard come out of her...never ever wanted to hear come out of her. God...

 

I wound my arms around her as tightly as I possibly could without hurting her...and even then she pulled them tighter. Somewhere buried deep between the sobs came a ridiculous sounding apology about not wanting this to happen...about never being able to stop...

 

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere then..." I whispered.

 

And I wasn't going anywhere, because this...this I could do.

Have you ever thought about

What protects our hearts

Just a cage of rib bone and some other various parts.

So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess

And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable

Girls and boys

You fasten my seatbelt because it is the law.

In your two ton death trap I finally saw

A piece of love in your face that bathed me in regret.

Then you drove me to places I'll never forget.

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable

Girls and boys

We are so fragile

And our cracking bones make noise

And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable girls...

Breakable, breakable, breakable girls...

Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys...

 

 

She'd fallen asleep sometime around 3a.m. It had been that dead kind of sleep...I'd had to shift around in order to keep my extremities from numbing out and falling off.

 

Even though we'd both gone to bed extremely late, she still woke up with the sun. I gave fleeting thought to the day when she'd walk into her apartment and crash for 12 hours. I hoped that day came sooner rather than later, but for now I woke up with the sun as well and followed her into the guest shower.

 

In an effort to remove the astronomically large knots in her shoulders, I gave her a massage as the water rained down on us. After the massage I did some other things to help her release some of her tension. It sounds crazy, but in that moment it was less about the pleasure of the actions and more about making my self feel useful.

 

Afterward when she'd melted boneless against me in the shower, I knew that for at least a few minutes of her day...I had helped.

 

We made it downstairs in time to find Frankie staring up at the ceiling in the kitchen while he hovered over a skillet full of bacon.

 

"Toast should pop up any minute," he said jutting his chin towards the toaster.

 

I felt Pam tense up as she looked around. It was more and more obvious by the second that no one had come downstairs yet. Frankie being the sole member of the family awake wasn't a good sign.

 

"Where's mom?"

 

"Upstairs with dad. He doesn't feel like coming down today."

 

"Oh," she said glancing upstairs. "Ok...Can I help?"

 

"No," Frankie said shaking his head. He glanced at me, and then back to Pam. "Why don't you get out of here for awhile?...I think he's asleep anyway."

 

"But mom -

 

"Hey! You're not the only one around here who can make a meal or hold a hand, ok? Would you just.....I mean it's not frittata but it's something...Dad likes bacon."

 

Pam smiled softly. "Dad really likes bacon."

 

"Yeah...so...these six strips are for him...they'll be ready when he wakes up."

 

Pam walked around the island in the middle of the kitchen and very deliberately closed the distance between her and her brother, kissing him on the cheek.

 

"You wanna go for a walk?" She asked turning towards me.

 

I felt myself smile. Seriously? "Absolutely."

 

I grabbed her coat off of the rack by the door and helped her into it, turning slightly to mouth the words ‘thank you' to Frankie, over my shoulder. Of course, in true Frankie fashion, he only shrugged. No big deal, of course.

 

As Pam and I walked outside into the nippy November morning, she leaned into me and slipped both of her hands into mine. The gesture was so...young and free that it took me completely by surprise. I gazed down at her...

 

Wow. I wasn't completely sure what had happened...but whatever it was, I wanted to hold onto it for at least another 60 years.

 

Suddenly she was pointing to a very large oak tree a few yards away. "When I was in the fourth grade, I climbed that tree right up there...I fell out and had to get 17 stitches right above this elbow."

 

I glanced at her covered arm and remembered having noticed a miniscule scar there once, but at the time I'd been too distracted by all of her various parts to ask about it. "It's healed very nicely."

 

She smiled. "I had a good doctor."

 

"I am thankful for your doctor, Pam."

 

She grinned back at me. "I'm thankful for you."

 

Silence fell between us for a few moments and it was the absolute best silence I could remember having experienced in days. I kicked at a bunch of colored fall leaves and she did the same.

 

"I used to collect these with my best friend Mary Jane in the third grade...she lived right there," she said pointing across the street. "Her dad was in the military though and they moved by the time we were in the 5th."

 

"Aw..."

 

"I know...we exchanged our favorite leaves with each other though and promised we'd keep in touch...we didn't."

 

I slipped my arm around her shoulders and turned to kiss her forehead. "Fickle, fickle leaf friends."

 

"Fickle, fickle, foliage friends...alliteration."

 

"How do you do that?"

 

"I don't know," she said grinning.

 

Wow...seriously? I couldn't get over all the smiles. The situation was just the same as it had been the day before. Her father was still dying...it seemed unreal. I had to do my best to keep this sudden mood shift going...If I could.

 

"So guess what..." I said, licking my lips.

 

"What?"

 

"During my walk last night...on my way back, I saw something that I'm pretty sure is what you wanted me to see last time we visited, but then we got really busy..."

 

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

 

I pointed in the distance. "Down the street....second house on the left...from the end...Terrace?" I asked, squinting a bit. "That's the one, right?"

 

Pam stopped in her tracks. "How did you know?"

 

She. Was. Beautiful in the fall.. Her hair the color of fallen leaves as it blew away from her face in the breeze. She was just as beautiful in the summer...the winter...the spring...

 

"You told me....Remember? The story..."

 

"No, I know I told you about the story...

 

"And then you told me they were starting to build a few houses in the newer part of the neighborhood...like the one you read about......and that one," I looked at it again. "That one feels like you."

 

"What about it feels like me?"

 

I shrugged, "Something about the ironwork...I don't know." I knew exactly, but to tell her would be the cheesiest thing I'd ever said to her. Iron was strong, but all the curly cues worked into it...it'd been made to look fragile...delicate. "I just see you there...I see you painting, having a cup of tea, holding a baby, planting flowers..."

 

"What?"

 

"Planting flowers."

 

"No...the thing before..."

 

"Cup of tea?" I said feigning innocence.

 

"No...the thing in the middle..."

 

"Oh holding a baby? That?...Yeah a baby duckling."

 

She smiled up at me with tears in her eyes. "You wanna have a baby with me, Jim?"

 

"No."

 

"Oh good," she said, putting her forehead against my chest. When she looked up at me, I brushed her hair out of her eyes and leaned down to kiss her.

 

"Glad we're on the same page about that Beesly."

~~~~~~~

 

When we came back to the house, it was absolutely still. No Frankie in the kitchen...no one downstairs at all. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest as I followed Pam up the stairs. She let go of my hand at one point, and I took it back. Not sure if the gesture was more for her comfort or my own.

 

She knocked lightly and we both exhaled when it was her father's voice that said ‘come in.'

 

He lay in bed, with Allison perched beside him and Frankie in the wing chair by the window, staring out of it. Bacon left uneaten on the night stand next to him.

 

"Hey, Daddy," Pam said walking swiftly over to the bed. I found a wall to blend into. "Feeling tired today?"

 

"Yeah, sweetheart," Frank said, fingering the very ends of Pam's hair when she leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Pamela...Would you please tell your mother to go and eat something? She's not listening to me."

 

Allison's eyes were red, clearly she'd been crying. "Oh for the love of God. Frankie pass me the damn toast and bacon. I'll eat the entire plate!" She said forcing her hand out towards Frankie.

 

"That's my bacon...I said go eat something, I didn't say to eat my bacon."

 

I chuckled from my place against the wall and the family turned in my direction all at once. I swallowed.

 

"See...Jim thinks I'm funny. Thank God somebody around here still has a sense of humor....Pamela, I want you to take your mother and brother downstairs...I'm sure she's missing General Hospital or something."

 

"I swear..." Allison muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

 

"Come on everybody," Pam said reluctantly. "Daddy wants some space..."

 

"I didn't say everybody...Jim can stay."

 

Pam turned to me. A slow smile spread across her lips. "Ok...everybody else."

 

I watched in horror as everyone filtered out the room, my heart once again hammering away in my chest. I'd been both dying for and dreading this moment. A moment when Pam's father and I finally got some time to talk without Roy around. I half expected Roy to pop out of the closet or something. I think I actually glanced behind me just to check...

 

"You want to talk to me, sir?"

 

"Really? Come on...you haven't called me sir...ever. Why start now? Respect for the dead?"

 

I grinned and sat in the chair Frankie had just vacated, "What the hell do you want Frank?"

 

"Oh that's good," Frank said grinning. "Tell me how you are, Jim."

 

I licked my lips. "I'm good...I'm good."

 

"Good," he said and then proceeded to fix his eyes on the ceiling, as if searching for something he wanted to say. His breathing became shallow and I started to sweat in places I didn't realize I could sweat.

 

Please don't...not with just me...here.

 

When he spoke again, he was quieter. "You know Jim, my daughter is doing a lot more painting lately."

 

"I know."

 

"She went a few years without showing me anything new. Anything... It was crazy. I couldn't understand it at all...I mean...I understood where it was coming from - I did. But the thing I couldn't understand was how somebody who loved something so much could just...let it go.......But anyway...now she's painting again - I'm very happy about that."

 

"Me too."

 

"I know you are............You know, my son thinks her mother and I don't know about all the problems with Roy. He thinks we were always blind to it....Not that I have to justify myself, but I want you to know that we weren't Jim. We had our concerns, but Pamela...it's hard to see her unhappy - even when you know what she's doing ultimately won't make her happy...I don't know - it doesn't make any sense. It won't make any sense until you have your own kids."

 

I didn't say it out loud, but it already made sense.

 

Instead I just nodded. "That...that's actually funny you say that because...um...Frank there's something I wanted to ask you..."

 

He turned to me expectantly, and my voice lodged somewhere deep inside my throat. I cleared it and continued. "D - do you already know what I'm gonna ask?"

 

"Of course I already know what you're gonna ask...Jim I was hearing about you, before I was ‘hearing' about you, if you know what I mean...ask your question - I've been waiting for this conversation."

 

Really? Ok...um - wow. I grinned. "Well, sir - it feels like there should be a sir here..."

 

"Yeah, you're right...it's got a nice ring to it in this kind of a conversation, doesn't it?"

 

"Yes.....Well, sir...I was wondering - I was hoping that I could have your permission...your blessing to have your daughter's hand in marriage."

 

Frank looked up at the ceiling and started to laugh...loudly.

 

"Ok..." I said, shaking my head. "Really? That's your reaction?...It's not...it's not that funny."

 

"It is when somebody says ‘hand in marriage...'....God, even I didn't phrase it that way, and I'm old."

 

"Wow."

 

"No, no...I'm sorry," Frank said near tears he'd been laughing so hard.

 

He gasped for breath...and for a few short moments I felt bad that I'd made him laugh, it was so hard for him to get his breathing back under control. When Frank spoke again, his voice was weak.

 

"I'm sorry...listen, you remind me so much of myself when I was your age...."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Absolutely...I guess it's true what they say about girls marrying guys like their fathers."

 

I made a disbelieving sound. "Well then there's Roy...and I don't think he and I are anything alike..."

 

"I said it's true what they say about girls marrying guys like their fathers."

 

I was silenced. He smiled, pleased with himself for getting me to shut up.

 

"Also...I'm not naive enough to think that there's nothing going on...but I do appreciate you not shacking up with her first."

 

I laughed out loud...my first real out and out laughter in days.

 

We might as well have been ‘shacking up' for all the time we spent at each other's residences, but it was true we weren't officially living together. And a dying man's gratefulness would make sure we never would...the guy was a genius.

 

"Roy was a shacker....Don't get me wrong. I love the kid. Always have...he's not perfect. Not at all...and he wasn't right for my daughter. But you're..." His eyes found mine. "She paints more now."

 

"She does....and she will."

 

"I'm countin' on that."

 

I only nodded.

 

"You have a ring picked out?"

 

"Picked out and bought...in the sock drawer."

 

"How long you had it?"

 

"Too long to admit to without becoming extremely embarrassed."

 

Frank grinned. "You're in....permission granted."

 

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~

 

Years from now when I looked back on this day, I knew I'd remember it as one of the most emotionally taxing of my life. I'd gotten permission to marry the girl I loved from a man who would die only eight hours later.

 

Frank Beesly died in his own home, with his family surrounding his bed, each of them getting a few last moments with him and then time with him as a family. Even I had gotten those few perfect minutes with him, when I finally knew that he not only liked me, but thought I was good for his daughter. He knew that I loved her.

 

There wasn't anymore I could have asked for.

 

I'd gone in and out of the room the entire day and into the evening, bringing random things that they'd asked for and things they hadn't: coffee, tea, a cordless phone, tissue, throw blankets, pillows, left over turkey sandwiches, photo albums...anything I could think of to give Pam as many minutes in that room as possible.

 

There'd been a moment, just a couple of hours before Frank's death, that I'd emerged from the bathroom to find Allison sitting on the stairs, getting herself together before returning to the bedroom.

 

She'd looked me in the eye and without any tears, had point blank said, "It's gonna be your job to help me, Jim. With Pam...with my Frankie. It's gonna be your job."

 

I found myself nodding, looking her in the eye, as if, it was a given that I would do so. God, I wasn't even sure what she meant...but whatever it was - the answer was yes. Whatever it was, it meant being a part of this family...and that's who I was.

 

She only nodded back at me (a silent agreement) before lifting herself up from the bottom of those stairs and taking herself back into that bedroom.

 

Later that evening, as Pam sat curled up in my lap watching the sunset from her father's bedroom window, Frank went quietly away. Without any fanfare or drama, Frank moved peacefully into the next phase of his life.

 

And without fanfare...and just a little drama, I moved into the next phase of mine.