"Mr. Halpert...please...just...please..."     

"What are you saying?"    

"Mr. Halpert-"    

"NO. W-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!"

"We're never going to get this nursery straight at this rate," Pam huffed, blowing hair out of her face and looking at up at Jim from her position on the floor. Piles of soft pinks, yellows, and pastel green surrounding her. Her milky legs crossed, tucked under a rounded belly that her tank top couldn't quite cover completely. She looked absolutely adorable.

"We? Who's this infamous 'we'? I believe only one of us is doing all the heavy lifting," he smirked, pushing the newly assembled changing table against the wall.

"You're right. It's a hard job but someone has to do it. And that person...is me," she cheekily replied, reaching out and wiggling expectant fingers at Jim. He knew very well what that meant.

He snorted in agreement, and went over to her, pulling her up to a standing position gently. She smiled up at him and he kissed her forehead, brushing aside some of her fly away curls. "We'll get the room finished. I promise."

"Baby suite."

"I'm sorry but...what was that?" He looked down at her as she looked in deep thought.

"In the magazine, they call it a baby suite."

"Really?"

She nodded and began ticking off which of the magazines she had read that in. He just lifted one curious brow at her and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not calling it that."

"Yeah, you will."

Jim shrugged, winking at his beautiful expectant wife. "No, I will not."

No one told them a nursery would be so time consuming. Jim figured if they had known they would have gotten started on it earlier, like before she conceived. But that was neither here nor there. Pam was having their baby in three more weeks and he would finally get to meet his daughter face to face. They were finally becoming adults responsible for raising a human being. Wow. Surreal.

Two years ago, he was in New York interviewing for a job to get away from her and whatever it was their friendship had mutated into. Two years ago, he was with another woman, trying to build a relationship on a shaky foundation. Jim saw no children in that future. He saw no future in that relationship. All he ever knew was that he loved Pam. And now, after so many missteps and misunderstandings, they were here. Putting together a nursery for their new arrival. He still marveled at it sometimes, how things came to pass. How life fell into place when it seemed shattered beyond repair for so long. Sometimes, he would look at her when she was something as simple as washing dishes, and he just felt his heart leap into his throat. They were meant to be. He kind of always knew that.

A baby, of course, makes three. It was absolutely the best news ever. It wasn't like they planned it honestly. Not so soon into their marriage. After all, it had only been five months since their wedding, and no way no how were they done with the honeymoon stage of things. But Pam was more moody than usual and achy all over. He believed she suspected it long before she decided to buy a test and let him in on the secret. The way her lips curved up nervously as they both hovered over the pregnancy test stick, Jim fumbling with the instructions. That little plus sign changed everything.

They were initially nervous about being pregnant. After all, neither of them had ever done it before. The longest Jim held a baby was when his nephew was born, twenty minutes tops. The moment the kid started crying he happily handed him off to his sister in law. Jim was pretty good with older kids, the ones who knew how to talk. But Pam was a nervous wreck about motherhood in general. She fretted constantly that their daughter would hate her. Jim tried to console her but she made up in her mind that once the umbilical cord was cut, the baby would instantly hate her.

They even waited for awhile before telling anyone. Especially people at work. Something ominous about Angela's stare or Michael's hands fondling Pam's belly made them keep the pregnancy to themselves for a little while. Of course the moment Pam started showing, they had to let the cat out of the bag. And sure enough, the reaction was just as expected. Angela smirked and accused Pam of being pregnant before they got married. Kelly squealed and then cried and then recovered quickly enough to ask could she name the baby. Oscar, Stanley, Meredith and Phyllis congratulated them properly. Kevin giggled and pointed out that meant they were having sex. Dwight accused Jim of having a weak and ineffective gene pool and Pam should pray that her child is at least able to tie her own shoe or write her own name. Andy made veiled references that had Tuna not cock blocked, Pam might be pregnant with his baby. Toby took a half a day after the news. Creed asked when Jim married Meredith.

So the baby was already offering them so much with the insanity of their life.

"Okay, so what else do we need to get?" Pam replied, as she stood in the middle of the room-nursery-baby suite.

He leaned against the door frame, surveying the delicately colored hues on the wall and the beautiful lace window treatments Pam insisted he put up. This room was perfect. His daughter would come to a home that loved her. That alone made him feel so much warmth inside.

"Jim?"

"Well...we don't need anymore diapers, at least I don't think. The two closets full of them should be enough."

Pam sighed. "I think we're almost ready."

Jim could only smile back. "I think we've been ready. Now we're just overcompensating..."

"Jim?"

In his sleep induced haze, Dwight, who was oddly enough dressed like Abraham Lincoln and holding a goat, shook his shoulder to wake him.

"Dammit, Jim. Wake up."

He jolted forward, sitting straight up in bed before his eyes landed on Pam's face.

"Jim. It's time...I think."

Before she could finish the sentence, he leaped out of bed and grabbed his sweatpants. They had a drill before, a routine all mapped out. One that was seemingly hard to remember as he frantically darted across the room gathering things they knew they needed. In his head he ticked off the most important things, like her overnight bag, her insurance card. A teddy bear he got her at a carnival on their third date.

He grabbed all these things in his arms and turned to help lead her down the stairs when he saw how pale her face looked.

"Pam?"

She looked up slowly, dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept a wink. She tried to give a weak smile, but the corners of her mouth only twitched slightly before she took a deep breath.

"Contractions? How far apart are they? Should I time them?" he asked, quietly.

She shook her head. "We have time. It's just...it feels worse than I thought."

Jim could tell she was extremely unnerved by this whole thing. But he would make it his mission to ensure that she would deliver this baby comfortably. "Are you ready to go? Or do you need a minute?"

She touched her stomach as if it burned and then she sighed deeply. "I think we should go now. We can call the folks in the car."

He nodded and helped her stand, then gathered the items again and moved downstairs to start the car. She didn't look good. She looked in pain. And the whole time he was calling her doctor while driving to the hospital she looked even worse. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she seemed ill, but she didn't say much. He called their parents and each set said they were on their way to the hospital as well to be there.

Every now and again, he would reach over to touch her hand and she would give him one of the weakest smiles. And he was afraid then. Something was wrong. Something was off and he had no idea what. By the time they reached Mercy Hospital, she was nearly slumped over.

"Pam? You gotta talk to me. You're not okay. What's wrong?"

"It's just the contractions or something," she muttered, her head in between her legs. "I'm pretty sure labor is supposed to hurt."

"But-"

"I'm fine, seriously. Just...get a wheelchair or something."

He unbuckled himself reluctantly and walked over to get alert the attendant and they got Pam out of the car and into the wheelchair. A valet was kind enough to park the car, and Jim walked inside with his wife, still not convinced that she wasn't in more pain. Thank god they pre-registered, he thought as the nurse asked a few more questions before they were wheeled to one of the labor and delivery rooms. There, two nurses attended to Pam, taking her blood pressure and talking to her as Jim stood helplessly by with all the crap he walked out of the house with.

He had no idea what his role was in this. Whether he should get the ice chips or massage her back or what.  The nurses placed Pam on the bed and began to put IVs in her arm, relaying information the entire time. Jim was nervous. He had no idea what to do or say. They were supposed to take the stupid Lamaze classes this Friday. Too late for that.

Finally one of the nurses noticed him standing in the corner. She smiled gingerly. "We're going to examine your wife to see if she's dilated yet. You can stay if you'd like."

He swallowed the dry lump forming in his throat and moved slightly as they pulled the curtain and began to check Pam.

"She's dilated. About ten."

"Really?" the other nurse replied, concerned.

Pam oddly looked uninterested in the whole thing.

"Okay, page Dr. Kronowitz. I'll prep her."

Jim watched the nurses part ways and the nurse that approached him before approached him again. "Your wife is nearly dilated. We're getting the doctor and then we're going to have her push, okay?"

He nodded and the nurse smiled. "I'm going to give you some scrubs to wear, okay?"

"Sure, they're like professional pajamas," Jim joked.

"Exactly," she smiled back, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out the scrubs. "You can slip them over your clothes."

He went to work on that, also trying to focus on the task at hand and not think of college funds or birthday parties, or the boys he would have to threaten when they come around his daughter. Jim tried to think of how small she would be. What features she would take from them both. The doctor walked in them, acknowledging Jim and then checking Pam.

Dr. Kronowitz asked Pam a series of questions, which she barely answered. Jim looked over to see her looking extremely pale and the doctor began to rattle off orders to the anxious nurses.

"Get her prepped. We have to do a C-Section. Call in Dr. Cowans. Now!"

Jim fumbled with his scrubs as he watched the nurses dart in and out and then Pam's monitor began to go haywire.

Before he could get over to her, a nurse pulled him. "Mr. Halpert, we need you to step outside for a moment."

"No. Wait...Pam?"

"Sir...we need you to step out for a moment."

"What's wrong with her? What's happening to her?"

"Sir-"

"NO! What's happening to her?!"

It took three nurses to push him out of the room. A frantic Jim paced back and forth, angry and worried out of his mind, because no one was giving him answers and his wife was in that room. He knew he had to give them space to work, to make Pam better, but he wanted to know...needed to know what the fuck was happening. Tears sprang forth and his face burned hot. Jim slumped against the wall directly across from the room, running his hands through his hair.

Pam would be okay. She's Pam. She has to be okay. It's probably just a precaution. Probably. Maybe...

Suddenly the door flung open and they were pulling her bed out into the hall, shouting orders at each other. He jumped up and went to ask but they whisked past him quickly.

"Pam?! HEY! That's my wife! What's happening?" He gripped his head in his hands, panic all over him, devastation. Please don't let it be the baby, please don't let it be Pam. Take him, God. Take him instead.

Another nurse approached, her face grave. "Mr. Halpert, your wife is experiencing shortness of breath, and extreme discomfort. We believe it's amniotic fluid embolism. It's very rare, but some amniotic fluid has gotten into your wife's blood stream and she's having an allergic reaction to it. We must get the baby out. Now."

He nearly died right then himself. He could barely choke out. "A-Are they going to be okay?"

"I don't know. We have to wait and see. This is so rare, it's a surprise our OB-GYN encountered it once before. But the good news is she's only three weeks premature, the baby's lungs might have developed enough. We have an excellent neo-natal division."

"Please...um..." At this point, Jim let the tears flow openly and he put his lip to try to maintain some kind of composure. "Please take care of them. They're all I have."

The nurse nodded. "I'm sure they will get the best of care. I can walk you to the waiting area. Perhaps your family is waiting there."

They walked in dead silence into the waiting area, Jim reeling and spinning within himself. As soon as he reached the room, he saw his parents and Pam's parents sitting there, smiling expectantly.

One look at his face and their faces fell.

"Jim?" Pam's mom, Ellen whimpered out nervously. Her father, Ron took a step forward, his face in complete confusion.

Jim's parents Kenneth and Larissa stood close together, Kenneth grabbing his wife's hand, bracing for the bad news.

"Um..." Jim looked down at his feet, noticing he still had the scrubs slips on. "Pam...um...Pam is suffering from amniotic fluid embolism...where like the fluid got into her blood and now she's reacting to it. They have to do an..." he gasped and he struggled to keep himself together. "A C-Section."

"Is she okay?" Ellen yelped, and then covered her mouth, tears springing to her own eyes.

"I-I don't know," was all Jim could reply.

For the next hour, Jim sat in the waiting room, his head in-between his legs as he struggled to breathe. Nothing could happen. He couldn't think of the possibility of them losing this baby. He didn't even want to fathom it. And just to think, earlier today, he was so happy, so anxious. So nervous about being a father. Now it was all he wanted to be and he prayed he would be able to experience that. Pam's parents paced the floors, and Jim's parents tried to comfort him to no avail. Tom and his wife Nancy showed up and they were filled in. Everyone was so scared. They patted Jim on his back and tried to make him think positively but he couldn't. Not until he could hold his baby and look at Pam. He was biting absently on his thumb nail when the doors opened and the doctor stepped into the room, with another doctor.

"Mr. Halpert?"

Everyone stood up then. "Yes?"

The doctor looked absolutely pained and Jim just knew. He just knew then. Something had gone terribly wrong.

"What is it? Is Pam okay? The baby?"

"Mr. Halpert...I'm so sorry..."

The words floated through the air and covered the room like a dark storm cloud. At first he didn't think he heard them right. His body felt every sharp pain, like he'd been hit by a train. This wasn't happening. They were supposed to come here and have a baby and leave out a few days later, happy and with a new person to call their own. They were supposed to buy a dog. Vacation in Nags Head.  They had so many plans, they probably couldn't do them all, but when Pam got better...she'd be better and they'd do them all, right? A cry broke out of Ellen's lips and she fell against her ex-husband as he gripped her and cried as well. Jim realized that they were telling him either his wife or child was dead.

"No..." he shook his head in disbelief and growled out. "No. Don't you dare come in here and tell me that."

"Mr. Halpert...please...just...please..." They were taken aback by the anger in his voice.

"What are you saying?"

"Mr. Halpert-"

"NO. W-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!"

"Unfortunately, we were unable to save Pam. Her reaction was swift and by time we performed the c-section, her blood was unable to clot."

Jim's eyes slammed shut and he begged for all this to be a nightmare of some sort. He exhaled deeply and opened his eyes to see the doctor look at him, sad for him. "I...she was fine earlier. No. There's got to be..."

"We tried everything we could to save her. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"You...no. This..." he couldn't even speak anymore. All he heard was the sounds of disbelieving cries from his family. Ellen was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner, practically screaming. His own mother was breaking down and Tom was wiping tears out of his eyes. "I...what about...My baby too?"

"We were able to save your daughter. She's healthy and on her way upstairs. It's just a precaution."

"She's okay?"

"She's fine. She's six pounds and six ounces. She's nineteen inches long."

Ellen sniffed. "Can we see her? Can we see them both?"

"I want to be with my wife." Jim huffed out, completely destroyed. "I want my little girl and I want to be with Pam."

The doctors nodded. "Whatever you need, Mr. Halpert. You can be with Pam and then we'll take you to see your daughter."

"I want to see her. She...she shouldn't be alone. I shouldn't have left her alone."

"Oh Jim, honey," Larissa hugged him tighter.

"We'll give you a moment and then we'll take you to see her, okay?"

He didn't know how to deal with that many emotions. Denial, anger, grief, hate, loss, fear, and relief. He slumped back down into the chair and all the tears shook his body. And as his mother and father tried to comfort him, there was no comfort in the world that could make this better. Nothing. He wanted to die. He never felt so empty than right now. He felt like someone had ripped his heart out and burned it beyond repair.

"I just want to be with her..." he whimpered.

"Shhhhhh..." she chastised, pushing him back against a large bucket of some sort. He couldn't see; the maintenance closet was too dark.

"Can I just say one last thing?" Jim suppressed a chuckle at her intensity, wishing he could see her annoyed face right now.

"What is it?" He could hear the irritation dripping off of her tone; so again, he tried to stop the laugh coming from his throat.

He snorted, "The quickie took like ten minutes. It's going on fifteen minutes to get out of this closet."

The swish of her gown alerted him that she decided to ignore his mocking, and she turned her attention back to the crack in the door. She opened it only slightly, the yellow glow illuminating only the tip of her button nose. She was watching, trying to find a way for them to sneak back into their wedding reception without anyone catching onto the fact they snuck away to have sex in the hotel maintenance closet. Jim didn't care much. It was his wedding night and he was sure everyone pretty much figured after the cake was cut that they were going to sneak off somewhere and have sex. Anyone with eyes must've seen the way Jim was practically foaming at the mouth to get her alone.

But Pam was more cautious. He figured she didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, no matter how right it really was. However, leaving the closet seemed to be a problem. People were parading in and out the reception hall, either to go for a smoke or to go to the restroom, so they couldn't sneak back in unnoticed.

"Hey...I have an idea," he whispered, standing close behind her, his large hands grabbing hold of the lace wrapping around her hips.

"Your idea is what got us stuck in this closet in the first place," she whispered back, keeping her eye trained on the crack in the door.

"Well, we could just...walk out. I mean, they probably already figured us out Pam. We've been gone for awhile."

"I will not be caught tumbling out of a supply closet in my custom made wedding dress. My nana is in there! I have some common decency!"

Jim smirked, "I'd say a few moments ago, neither one of us were decent."

She elbowed him in the stomach as a warning and he laughed. "Okay, okay. Blame my loose morals on the open bar you insisted on having."

"Me? I was against it, because no way did I want Meredith to get near it and then we'd be fishing her out the fountain outside. But no, no one wanted to listen to me."

"She's not dancing in the fountain, now is she?"

Pam elbowed him again. "That's because she's been passed out in the lobby for the last hour, Jim. Uncle Herby and Fred had to carry her out."

"But that's still better than the fountain dancing."

"Shut up. Hey, I think we can make a break for it!" she replied suddenly, yanking open the door and walking out briskly. Jim gingerly followed her, both scanning the hall and hearing the thumping music from the DJ. It seemed like their guests were having a great time. Jim sure was. Pam stood in front of him, a vision in white, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, and trying to tame the errant curls that escaped her upswept hair do during their closet activities. Her lips were swollen from the intense kissing, and she was forming a small hickey near her clavicle. He wasn't going to tell her, because she would freak out. She looked up at him and smiled.

"What?"

Jim shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Nothing. You just...you're absolutely stunning."

"In this ole thing?" she replied cheekily, spinning around for him. "I wear this all the time."

"Oh I love the dress, but I meant, you're just stunning in general," he smiled, leaning in and kissing her lips softly.

Her eyes lit up at his compliment and she blushed all over. Or maybe her skin was already crimson from the barrage of kisses he laid upon it earlier. He was definitely a fan of strapless dresses. "We should get back."

"We should. Your mom has probably assembled a search team by now."

"Dad probably has made flyers, offered an award for any information on our whereabouts."

"My dad's probably cashing in on my insurance policy because he's given up all hope of our safe return," Jim joked, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Pam leaned into him, sighing. "This is the best day ever."

"One of many, I'm sure. Definitely my top five."

"Five? What's your other four?"

They walked towards the reception hall, the lighting low, and candles adorning the tables, as everyone turned to watch them enter. Some waved, some smiled, and some gave knowing winks. Pam blushed more.

"Oh god, they know."

"They do not. How could they possibly know?" Jim shrugged. He scanned the crowd as well, searching for accusing stares.

Pam stopped suddenly, and looked at him for a moment, her eyes traveling down to his pants. "Your fly...is open."

His eyes widened in terror. "Oh shit! Seriously?!"

He looked down to see the zipper of his tuxedo pants was indeed closed. Jim glared at Pam. "Not cool."

"Neither was giving me this hickey and not even telling me," she smirked. "I have eyes, you know."

"Only for me," Jim replied back, as they sat down at their table. People continued to congratulate them all night and even their co workers (minus Meredith) were on their best behaviors.

Michael was actually acting like a normal human being since he had gotten back together with Holly. Toby didn't come at all, and Jim pretty much figured out why. Kelly cried and told Pam even though she looked hot in her dress, Kelly's wedding dress would be way hotter. Phyllis and Bob Vance were gone, probably having their own quickie in a bathroom somewhere. Dwight alerted Jim that after some investigating, the crab meat was imitation and his superior taste buds could practically feel the artificiality of it. Kevin was harassing the DJ for tips on booking weddings, and Angela remained stone faced at her table while Andy hit on all the bridesmaids. Stanley and his wife had to leave early but not before telling Jim and Pam they had a toaster with their name on it for a long time.

Nothing could ruin Jim's night. Everything in his eyes was perfect. It was the day he had been waiting for, for years. He looked over at his blushing bride as she rocked her shoulders to the music and sipped her champagne. She turned and smiled back at him.

"Hey."

"Hi."

She leaned closer to him. "Your tie is crooked."

"I don't care," was all he replied as he buried his nose in her hair.

The doctor told him he could sit with her. It might have sounded morbid, but Jim didn't give a shit. He hadn't been able to say goodbye to her, and it didn't seem real until he laid his eyes on her still form covered on top of the OR table.

The doctor ushered Pam's parents in there as well, but it proved too much for Pam's mom, as Ellen screamed out, "Oh god! I can't, Ron! I can't see her like that! My baby! Not my daughter! Why my daughter?!"

Ron held her in the doorway, proving that estranged on not, Pam was such a strong connection between them. He rocked his ex wife back and forth, and soothed her, while training his eyes on his son in-law. Jim had been too frozen to walk further in the room when he saw the sheet covering her. It was like his body wasn't his anymore, and he wasn't even really in that OR. Like he was walking in slow motion and his brain had disconnected. He swallowed hard, and walked up to her, as a nurse laid the sheet away from Pam's face.

Her eyes were closed. She looked asleep. And right there, was the moment he felt he died too. He didn't feel anything other than intense emptiness. And he sat beside her for awhile, holding her hand that was only slightly warm. And he buried his face in her hair and whispered how much he loved her and how he didn't want her to leave him, as if she would just wake up like this was some prank. Jim began to beg her to come back, just come back, he needed her, and the baby needed her.

"Don't go like this, please. Wake up, Pam. Just...we have to go home and we have to get...there's more stuff we need to get right? You want to remodel the kitchen, remember and...then we're supposed to...the studio and...Come on. Please. Just...God, I love you. I love you so much. So very much. So you have to wake... "

Jim dropped his head and banged it repeatedly against the cold metal on the bed. He couldn't even finish what he was saying because soon all the words stopped coming and he was dry heaving painful cries from the depth of his body. It pained him so badly, he'd never sobbed so hard before that he almost lost consciousness. He would have stayed with her forever, because he didn't want to think about where she was going next. Only until a couple of nurses approached the family, did he realize how long he had been with her in the OR room. He refused to leave at first until they reminded him that he still needed to see his daughter. Their daughter.

He kissed her hand. It was now cold. Then her forehead, lingering and closing his eyes because he literally ached right now. He whispered "I love you" at least a hundred times.  As the nurses led them back out, Jim turned back one more time to see her.

A flurry of pink arms and legs. That's what he saw. Her face was turned away inside the incubator but she was naked with tubes and a knitted cap on and he couldn't see her face but he knew she was beautiful.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the pediatrician said sincerely, and Jim gave barely a nod to acknowledge it.

"How is she doing?"

"She's doing well. Very healthy, all her vitals were good."

"So why is she in an incubator?"

The doctor smiled. "Precaution. She'll be out in the nursery tomorrow. We just want to make sure nothing changes over night. She'll be watched very closely. But I don't think we have anything to worry about."

He pressed his head up against the cool glass, his eyes never leaving her. His voice broke slightly as he asked, "C-can I hold her?"

The doctor nodded, "Of course, let me get a nurse and you can hold her."

A nurse in pink scrubs with ducks came in the room and instructed Jim on washing his hands and putting on fresh scrubs. They all seemed to be aware he was the man who just lost his wife. His daughter was without her mother for the first moments of her life. She led him into the room, and he sat down in a rocking chair beside the incubator. He was nervous. She seemed so fragile, so tiny. What if he dropped her or squeezed her too tight or she didn't know him? Then the small buddle was in his arms and he saw her face then. He was wrong. She wasn't just beautiful. She was perfect. Dark hair peeked from under her cap and her eyes were open only by a fraction. Her little pink lips were puckered and her cheeks were rosy. She had Pam's nose, thank god...a bet that they had wagered for months. Pam lost the bet. But he couldn't tell her that...because she was dead.

He held the baby closer to his chest to try to make the pain go away. It wouldn't. And tears fell down his face as he looked at her, rocked her in the chair. He leaned his face towards hers, the warmth of her fresh skin breaking the coolness in his face. She was alive. He felt guilty feeling happy that at least she was okay. His nose rubbed against her temple as he whispered, "You're everything we wanted, you know that, right? And...and...I'm so sorry she couldn't see you, sweetheart. So sorry."

The baby flinched and he choked a bitter laugh in his throat. "We're going to try to be okay. I promise."

He rocked her some more and looked up to see his parents watching him through the window. They gave him a sad smile but he couldn't smile back.

"Your tie is crooked."

He wasn't even paying attention until Tom said something about his tie. He looked up and into the mirror ahead of him, the black suit fitting over his shoulders and the black tie slightly tied to the left. Too bad he didn't give a shit how he looked. The suit was new, courtesy of his mother. He guessed she didn't want him opening up the closet where all his clothes lived with Pam's clothes. She didn't want to see her son breaking down again, like he did in the kitchen, or the living room, or the driveway...around anything that reminded him of her.

Except, everything did. Absolutely everything. There was no escaping her memory not even for a second, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. Hell he wouldn't even be worrying about tying this stupid fucking tie right now if Tom hadn't come into the darkened bedroom and told him the limo was on its way and he had to get dressed now. He would still have his face buried in her pillow, trying to recall her scent, if Tom hadn't interrupted him.

Jim yanked the tie off his neck bitterly. He shouldn't be dressing for Pam's funeral anyway. He shouldn't be playing the part of a widower at thirty one years old. None of this should be happening anyway.

"Here, let me..." Tom said quietly, stepping in front of his clearly distraught brother.

"I know how to tie a tie, Tom," Jim sighed, but Tom already had the tie looped around his neck. It reminded him when they were younger and Tom would help him get ready for church.  A time so much more innocent than now. His brother concentrated on the tie as Jim tried his best not to break down in front of him again. He bit his quivering lip and looked up at the ceiling.

"There, that's straight I think," Tom replied, stepping back and letting Jim look at himself in the mirror. He was an absolute mess. His eyes were blood red from crying, while under them, dark circles had formed. His hair, he didn't even care to do anything with at all, and he looked a bit pale. The last three days had been absolute hell and he saw no end in sight. His daughter was still in the hospital and he was here, getting ready to put the love of his life in the ground.

Pete walked in the room suddenly, carrying a plate of eggs, bacon and toast, and a glass of orange juice. "Mom wants you to eat something before we leave."

Jim rolled his eyes. His family had been constant around him the whole time. Practically camping out at his house. His mother, especially. And since they used to live in the house, it wasn't many places he could hide from her. "I'm not hungry."

Tom frowned at him, "You haven't eaten in days, Jim."

"Wonder why?" he said sarcastically. He knew he was being a dick, and his brothers were just concerned, but he had no appetite. He would only throw it up anyway. Jim chuckled angrily, not even caring to watch his own dark morbid thoughts anymore. " Maybe I'll starve. Maybe I'll die. I wish it was me."

"Don't talk like that!" Pete almost shouted and Tom slumped down on the bed. "Don't ever say things like that."

"What? Like I wish I died instead of my wife, Pete? Because I do!"

"Jim, you have a beautiful little girl who needs you. She only has you now. Come on, don't say things like that," Pete was trying his best to reason. "I can't imagine how you feel right now--"

"Then don't," Jim swallowed his anger back and gritted his teeth. "Don't try to fix this. You can't. No one can. Stop trying to force me to eat when I can barely breathe right now."

"When the baby gets here, you're going to need your strength," Tom tried to explain.

Jim's stone face stayed constant. His baby would be home soon. To a house that was now broken. He would be bringing her to a house that lacked the one thing she needed, her mother. He suddenly had no desire to do that, it was so unfair to her. But he had to take care of her, because he couldn't lose her too. "Fine, I shove some toast in my mouth, okay? Is that alright by every -damn- body?"

"All I'm asking," Pete said, dropping his head to avoid the icy glare from Jim.

Nancy knocked at the door, and peeked in. "The limo's here."

Tom turned to Jim, as Jim wiped at invisible lint on his new suit that was purchased to attend Pam's funeral.

"You ready to go?" Tom asked softly.

Jim shook his head, "I'll never be ready for this."

The water cascaded down her back and he watched her curls loosen and fall wet between her shoulder blades from his position behind her in the shower. She was humming some song he'd barely recognized and washing her hair.  He should have been helping, but he was mesmerized by her entire body being in view and being outlined by steam and water. In his mind, he had to practically scream that he wasn't dreaming anymore, that the vision of her naked was real, and the idea that she was his was indeed a fact. But instead, Jim leaned back against the cool tile of their small shower and simply watched her.

They were married now. Married. He recalled all the horror stories his brothers told him about marriage, how as soon as the "I do's" were exchanged, all passion and romance flies out the nearest window, only to be seen on rare occasions like birthdays or anniversaries. He begged to differ. If anything, he found even her simple routines even more alluring, and he was probably worse off now than he was when they first started dating. Jim had no intention of letting passion fly out of the window at all. He waited so long to be with her, to know her in this way, he felt like the idea of the rest of their lifetime seemed too short for him to relish in her.

"Argh! Jim?!"

He blinked back to reality and looked her flailing her arms turning towards him, her face covered in shampoo. "I got soap in my eyes! I need a towel!"

The sight of her had him chuckle inwardly, "Hold on."

"Stupid shampoo! Hurry!"

 Quickly his hands reached outside the shower curtain, felt for the towel rack, and grabbed a towel. "Come here."

He stepped close to her, the water only hitting his waist now, and held her face gently as he dabbed at her closed eyes with the towel. She was sputtering and rubbing them, but he playfully smacked away her hands and gently wiped her eyelids. "Better?"

"I think I'm going blind," she blinked rapidly, still fanning her face.

 He wanted to laugh at her over-dramatization. But instead, something else stirred in him. The need to touch her, the need to feel her. He reached towards her face and moved the wet curls behind her ears, watching the water from the shower create a path down her clavicle and the valley of her breasts.

"This is why I suggest we always shower together. You obviously can't be left to your own devices," he smirked.

"Shut up. Maybe if someone was helping me wash my hair, instead of...why were you just standing there? Isn't it cold back there?"

He shrugged, "Since you're a water hog, I figured if I got a few drops on my leg, I'd be lucky."

"I am not a water hog."

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" he threw his hands up.

She feigned annoyance. "Fine. No more showering together."

With that she went to turn around, but he caught her arms and turned her back towards him, pulling her wet body closer to his responding one. "No need to get hasty. This is about going green."

"Anything for the environment," her skin turned a shade of red, and it wasn't from the water. She had to feel his muscles tighten as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting circles along shoulder.  "Say I'm not a water hog, and I'll forgive you."

He flicked his tongue against the wet skin of her shoulder, tracing the shape of it as he whispered back, "Then I'd be lying."

Jim liked this game. He loved spending time like this exploring the points of her body that was denied to him for so long. That would certainly never happen again. He could feel the coolness of her wedding band against his skin as she ran her hands up and down his back.  So he continued kissing her upper body, across the slick skin of the shoulder and up the soft skin of the neck, towards her earlobe that he dragged his teeth against. His lips were so closer to her ear, his breath tickling, "Hey."

"Hi," she moaned out, her eyes closed.

"How are your eyes?"

She sighed in content, his kisses everywhere. "Who cares about eyes right now?"

He laughed huskily into her ear as he pressed her back against the side of the shower stall, his hands traveling over her slick flat stomach and down over her thighs.

"Eyes are important. You need them to see."

"Hmmmm..." she purred, responding to his touch. "Seeing is overrated."

He loved to know he could make her feel like this now. He loved to know it was him who pushed her body to the limits and it was him who could claim her over and over again. He'd never get tired of feeling her against him.

"Oh yeah? Well...I want you to open your eyes for me."

She fluttered her eyes open, but they were still heavy with desire as she looked toward his face, watching him as he kissed over from her ear slowly to her lips. "Keep them open."

All she could do was breath out, as he claimed her mouth with his.  Four months. They had been married for four whole months, engaged for a year and he couldn't get enough of her. He'd made love to her a hundred different ways and he swore each way was a new experience and he still had so many he hadn't done. How many times had they had sex in the shower? Countless. But each time felt like the first time, or better. And he didn't even care how high their water bill would be. With every kiss, he deepened it, taking it to a level farther than before, his hands exploring everywhere, gliding with the water. She snaked one leg up his calf and he nearly buckled as he ground up against her, his hardness pressed against her stomach.

"Jim..." she moaned, her own hands pulling at his wet hair now. He gripped her hips, pushing her flush against the tile and then slid his hands under her thigh, lifting one leg up and over his own hip.

Pam obliged and her hands traveled to his shoulders and her arms wrapped around his neck as he picked her up and with his other hand, guided himself into her. She let her head roll back against the tiles, and almost closed her eyes as he entered her, but he reminded her, "Uh ah, keep ‘em open for me."

She nodded and he began to drive into her, slowly at first, feeling the warm heat of her around him, and the slash of the hot water hitting their sides. She groaned in front of him and her lids were almost closed again when he found a particular spot that made her gasp out and pull at his hair.

"Ah!" she hissed, and he kept repeating that move enough to feel her tighten all around him in preparation.

He didn't say anything, he couldn't speak; he just gritted his teeth and concentrated on the task which was trying to bring her over the brink of no return as he continued to thrust into her. He couldn't even reprimand her for slamming her eyes shut as she came, because his did the same thing when he came a few moments after her, her waves bringing him to his conclusion. And as they both tried to catch their breath as if they had run a marathon, he slowly released her legs and she slipped down the slippery tile and back onto the shower floor, her breasts still flushed against his rising and falling chest.

"Damn."

"I love shampoo," he wheezed out, and she laughed, laying her head against his chest. "Showers are awesome. Water conservation is the way."

"The water's cold," she replied and he reached over and turned it off with one hand, while she reached for towels and handed him his.

Pam stepped out the tub and went over to the sink to retrieve something, he thinks now it might have been her birth control pills but he was already ready for round two and spun her around and pushed her against the sink, and kissed her hungrily again, and she was thoroughly distracted. They then collapsed on the bed, and spent the day doing absolutely nothing but making love and teasing each other. That was a lazy Halpert Sunday. That was the day he was convinced they made their daughter.

The last funeral he attended was his uncle Sal's. His death was expected as he was sixty-eight years old and had prostate cancer. It rained during his uncle's funeral. This was a different kind of animal as he was burying his young wife on such a beautiful day. Jim thought that was so unfair. To have the birds chirp happily, not a cloud in the sky, warm sun brightly beaming down on his back as he lived through some of the worst moments in his life.

He stepped out of the limo and walked over with the rest of the family towards her cemetery plot where everyone seemed to be waiting. He didn't want to be here. Part of him wanted to run away, to just leave. He had no desire to watch them lower her into the ground, with absolutely no chance of her getting back up. His eyes remained partly closed behind his sunglasses, walked through the attendants, briefly seeing faces amongst the various family members and friends. Oscar was standing morosely nearby and he  felt as Phyllis grabbed his hand for a brief moment as he walked by. He saw Michael, standing next to her, holding a rose, looking even more lost than Jim did. Jim sat next to his mother and her mother under the tent, both women linking their arms in his, crying.

Jim did not cry. And not because he didn't want to, but because he no longer could. His tear ducks were already swollen and worn out, his eyes now a constant hue of red and his head still felt cloudy from days of nothing but crying and mourning. Now he just felt like a zombie, dead to the world. Probably more deader than her.  The reverend started to say something, but he didn't listen, because he kept trying to control his own emotions. To check himself, before he swiped all the flower arrangements off of her coffin and demand they open it and let him crawl in there with her.

Ellen patted at her cheeks and then patted his arm to comfort him but he didn't feel like he had the right be to comforted. Jim didn't want to be okay. He was inconsolable and that was fine by him. What else can one be, when he loses a part of his self, a part of who he is? He wanted it to be all over for him too, if she couldn't be here. His father's strong hand rested on his shoulder as the reverend stated, "...ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

It was all too much and he leaned forward and put his head between his knees and let go a painful breath. He felt hands rub his back, probably Ellen's or his own mother, Larissa's. People were crying. Everyone was crying. But no one could possibly feel as empty as he. Maybe Ellen and her father, they were her parents after all. The lowering of the casket proved to be too much, as he heard the wheels turn and he pushed back suddenly, gasping for air, and then he had to leave, he had to walk away.

"Jim?"

He heard people calling his name as he moved from his chair to the limo in quick strides, but they weren't going to stop him. He wasn't going to watch them do that to her. It made it too permanent and his mind could not handle that yet. The limo driver shuffled to open the door and he slumped into the seat and closed the door himself, locking it from the inside as he rocked back and forth, and finally feeling agonizing hot tears burn down his cheeks as he let his anguish continue to it him like hit like a ton of bricks.

After the ceremony was over, and his family got into the limo, quietly, all concerned for him.

"Are you okay? We can call everything off. Let you go home and rest?" Pete asked as the limo drove off.

"No. No, I'm fine."

They went back to Jim's house for the repast after the funeral. He had no desire to be there either. Amongst all of her things, her pictures, her clothes, her paintings and drawings. Not today, not now. His mother insisted he go take a nap upstairs, that people would understand, but he hadn't slept in days and didn't care to start now.

Jim walked through the crowd that had gathered in his living room, everyone casting awkward glances his way. Kelly nearly attacked him with hugs near the foyer, until Angela chastised her and pulled her off of him. He could only stand there and let it happen, because he felt numb. Mark patted his back and continued to talk with some of their poker buddies from college. Her friends from Pratt even attended; Alex gave his deepest condolences.  His eyes landed on Roy, standing alone in a corner, nursing some punch, looking absolutely devastated. Ron was speaking to him, but Roy didn't seem to be listening at all, just staring at the Jim and Pam's engagement photo on the mantle nearby.

If anyone had any feeling how Jim felt, he was guessing Roy might.

Before he knew it, he found himself standing in front of the punch bowl, and decided he'd have something to drink. His throat was raw and the punch slid down tasteless.  So he held the ladle and poured himself some more when he overheard the conversation by two of Pam's distant aunts.

"What is he going to do now? He has that poor little girl. She's just a baby."

"Maybe Ellen will take her and raise her for him. He's so young; he probably has no idea how to care for a baby."

"Look at him. No don't look directly at him, but look at how devastated he is. He's in no state to raise that child."

"I can only hope Ellen offers to take that child. Or even his parents. Pam would want her to have a stable home. She would have wanted that."

Jim slammed the ladle back into the bowl and turned wild eyed and furious to them. "You have NO idea what Pam wanted. NO ONE IS TAKING MY DAUGHTER FROM ME. EVER. GOT IT?!"

A hush fell over the gathering, as everyone watched Jim's outburst and he stormed off towards the kitchen.

"Jim?" Larissa called for him as he stomped past her. A tray of devil eggs were forgotten on the counter as she turned to Ellen. "What happened?"

"I have no idea!" Ellen replied, covering her mouth in shock.

He heard his name again but the sound of the storm door leading to the backyard slamming against the frame drowned it out. Jim paced the backyard angrily, muttering curses. How dare they say the baby wouldn't be safe with him? How dare anyone try to take away the last thing he had that was his? He was bringing her home tomorrow after all, in the midst of all this loss and confusion, he was bringing her home finally.

The fact is, the thought did occur to him he wasn't suited without Pam. He needed her more than anything now. To tell him what to do, to tell him it was okay. He had no idea how he would raise the baby by himself, but everyone said they would help. People do it every day; no way would he be different. If anything, he'd do whatever it took to keep his daughter happy and safe and with him. She was all he had left of Pam and no one...no one would take that away from him.

Jim slumped down on the old swing he used to play on when he was younger. He sat there and looked out into nothing, trying to control the various emotions raging through his worn body. Why'd this have to happen? Why did life even allow him to meet her, to know her, if all it was, was a brief moment? How messed up is the world to allow someone to experience that kind of love, only to yank it abruptly away from them permanently?

He closed his eyes and rocked gently, wishing the day away. Wishing this lifetime away. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind him. Irritated, he turned to see Michael, standing there meekly.

"It was getting stuffy in there and I've been looking for you. Tom told me you went to the store; Pete said you went to take a nap. I think they were trying to keep me away from you."

Jim gave a sad smile. "Or maybe they were stalling because they had no idea where I was."

"That could be it," Michael returned the sad smile. "Do you mind?"

"Um....no. Go ahead," Jim replied, gesturing to the other swing.

Michael sat down and began to push with his feet, his weight a bit too heavy to do anything but rock. "I always asked my mom to get me a swing. But...she had a thing about me and trees, so it never happened."

Jim didn't respond. He had nothing to say.

"Whatever time you need Jim. You take it. Don't worry. I....I want you to be okay. I want the baby to be okay. Toby filed the paperwork but beyond that, I'll give you whatever time you need. David said I could. I'm going to take some...time myself. Holly said its not post traumatic stress disorder, but it's me being in mourning. I looked it up on Web MD. I think she's wrong."

Jim didn't respond, he just rocked back and forth.

"She is such a beautiful...was a beautiful woman. I don't think this should have happened to her. She had so much talent and she was so...you know she used to tell me some of the best advice? I always felt close to her."

He shut his eyes and listened to Michael talk. He had nothing to say because it was too painful to talk about her in the past tense.

"Anyway, we're all a family. And we're here for you in any way you need. I mean it..." Michael looked down at his shoes. "We'll help you with the baby too. You can bring her to work. She can learn about paper. See where her mother....met her father. How I did a love connection. That'd be cool."

Silence was all that lingered between the men for a few moments.

"What's her name?"

"Whose?" Jim asked quietly.

"The baby?"

He took a deep breath. "Amanda. Amanda Morgan Halpert. She's absolutely gorgeous. Just...like her mother."

Michael was quiet for a moment, as he let that settle on him. Like a child with ADHD, he suddenly replied."I like that. The name. I dated an Amanda once. She never called back though. Hey, unrelated topic, but did you hear about the Red Stockings? Won the World Series, isn't that awesome? Totally didn't hear about that big news with everything going on."

Jim looked up and over at him confused.  "You mean the Boston Red Sox? Yeah....um, after a long streak of losing since 1918, they won in 2004. They won again in 2007. Like a few years ago. Not recently...thought. But a lot has been going on, I can see how that confused you."

"Socks? That's a silly name!" Michael replied, his face lighting up as Jim let out the first real laugh he had in days. Something about it just...made him feel human.  "Who names their teams the ‘Socks'?"

"The Red Sox. The White Sox. So on and so forth," Jim mused.

Michael looked confused. "Maybe there's a team called the ‘Pants'? Or the Tie? Ya know. That would be cool. I need to confirm that on Wikipedia."

Both men swung and laughed before settling back into a subdued quiet, because nothing changed. Pam was still gone.

Jim needed to lie down. He just needed lie still for a moment, to get a grip because he felt himself slipping. No one protested as he climbed the stairs to their-his bedroom, with guests still lingering from the funeral repass. There in the quiet of his space, he took off his tie and jacket, unbuttoned his shirt slowly, almost in a trance and then laid down on the comforter, begging his body to just give into the fatigue.

But he proved restless, as he tried to remember how she smelled, felt, tasted.  He swore he felt her soft curls between his fingers. He could feel the warmth of her skin brushing up against his, her breath tickling his face.

"Jim."

As he laid in the dark of their...their bedroom, he felt her.

"I love you."

Pam's lips would have been soft against his, pressed against his bottom lip and applying the perfect amount of sweet pressure. He imagined her hands would have touched him and made every cell in his body explode from the simple contact. She would have reached out and touched his face, traced her fingers across his brow and his jaw line, as she looked at him with such deep love in her eyes.

"It's okay," she would have whispered.

"No it's not; it's never going to be okay again. I'm never going to be okay. Not without you," he whimpered out into the nothing.  And now he was resorting to talking to himself.  How fucking crazy was he becoming?

"Sure it is, because then the ice melts and it's like ‘second drink!"

The tired lids of his eyes fluttered open; Jim's eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, and landed on her empty side of the bed. Her pillow was there, but she wasn't, and he reached over and clutched the pillow against his chest and closed his eyes again.

"I have a question for you- Are you going to Angela's cat party on Sunday?

"Come back," he pleaded. "This is so fucking unfair."

"Ah, yeah. We haven't told anybody, but it's going really great. Right?"

His imminent bawling stopped anything else his warped mind could torture him with. Funny thing was, Jim was actually aware she wasn't really laying beside him. His body was aware that the space is unoccupied and devoid of her. Everything around him was. His body was aching because he couldn't handle the loss at all, he was practically empty now. As well as the fact his eyes were beyond bloodshot, like he'd been drinking, smoking, and punched in the face. He'd rather do any of those things than feel the way he does.

His mother seemed concerned, wondering how he was going to function on such little sleep with a newborn baby. Of course, she teamed up with Ellen, and they both decided to stay with him over the next few weeks. They would both stay the first few nights, then Ellen would stay the rest of the week, and then his mother would stay the second. Jim didn't have the energy to protest.

He knew he needed rest. Amanda was going to be home tomorrow, and she was going to need someone to be there for her. Because she had no idea what shit storm was happening all around her, she was just coming into the world and trying to do what's instinctive, live. Amanda's alive, he thought. She's alive, and healthy and his. Theirs. And she's going to need him, need him to explain to her why her mommy can't be here. Need him to explain to her that he's so sorry daddy is one huge fucking mess right now. She's going to wonder what her mother was like. How a beautiful young artistic, vivacious woman created her in love and wanted her so badly.

Jim wondered what memories he could give her, because he had countless. Yet he was so afraid that if he did tell her, they would somehow leave his mind and be forever lost. And part of him felt guilty; guilty he was offering her a poor substitute for the real thing. No way could stories, memories, or pictures ever replace what Pam would have been to her.

Jim laid sprawled across his bed, inhaling her faint scent on her pillow and then releasing the deep agonizing breath he was holding in. It was becoming a chore now to hold in his sobs, but with all his family practically camping out at the house, he had no choice but to let his sorrow remain internal. Perhaps it was apart of him that wanted to suffer, wanted to feel tortured. Because now that he thinks about it, he feel like it's his entire fault anyway.

*****************

In celebration of his new found ethnic identity, Michael called for a party. According to Genealogy.com, Michael was 5% Italian based on his mother's side. Of course, he ran with it and decided the entire office needed to celebrate. Pam was saddled with the job of ordering pizza, spaghetti, lasagna, Italian subs, and other things he felt represented him. Right before the party he called a meeting in the conference room.

"As you know, I have just made a huge self discovery. One that I wish all of you could have by finding out who you are through your past. I have just found out I am a member of one of the most bad ass groups ever. From this group, hails fan favorites such as The Sopranos, The Gotti's, The Corleones, the Kardashians-"

Oscar crossed his arms. "Is there a point to all of this? We have work to do."

"Ya know Oscar, in Italy, they don't work. They drink wine all day and make love," Michael quipped.

"That is true. They make love to anyone. And you don't have to pay," Creed agreed.

Michael clapped his hands. "And that's what's so great about the Italians. Which makes me proud to announce, that according to Genealogy.com, I am in fact, part Italian.  Now, I know what you're thinking, and no, I'm not going to get any of my mobster relatives to harm any of you, because we'll be too busy making lasagna and making love to beautiful women- yes, Jim?" Michael acknowledged Jim's raised hand.

"That's kind of stereotypical don't you think? The mobster references and things of that nature?"

"I agree, that's a big stereotype Michael," Pam replied, nodding along with Jim.

Michael sighed. "It's okay if I say it because I'm one of them now. It's not like I'm saying I'm black or anything."

"Why? Are you?" Stanley rolled his eyes and then went back to his crossword puzzle.

"No, what I called you in here for is a celebration. Of life, culture, and finding my true identity.  My born identity, like Jason Bourne-"

"-Jack Bauer would own him," Dwight interrupted.

Michael continued, ignoring Dwight completely. "I want to celebrate it by having a feast. A feast that my people have prepared, home-style real Italian food. Courtesy of Olive Garden..."

And so they celebrated Michael's way because it gave everyone free lunch.  It was while they were eating, Pam looked a little nauseous as Michael piled Chicken Parmesan on her plate. As she sat at her desk, she only pushed the food back and forth across her plate, but never towards her mouth.

"Not hungry?" he asked, standing over her counter, polishing off his plate.

"No, I ate my sandwich earlier," she replied, dropping the plate into the trash can. She didn't seem too enthused about even talking to him.

"Must have been a delicious sandwich. Want me to get you something to drink?"

"Um...yeah a coke would be great."

Jim went to walk away to retrieve a drink but spun on his heels and looked at her, "Pam?"

"Yeah?"

"Everything okay?"

She gave him a thumbs up and a sad excuse for a smile, and he tried not to push her any further.

****************

"What?" he asked, turning his head slightly to look at her as she stared intensely at him from the passenger seat. They were on their way home from work, and he was cruising the streets of Scranton when he noticed how she was staring at him.

"Nothing, just...looking," she smiled playfully.

"Oh yeah?" Jim couldn't help but smile, he loved when she talked like that. "Nice view? Prime real estate?"

"Yeah."

"Like what you see?"

"Very much so."

He smirked and stared back at the road in front of him, "Good. There's more, if you're interested."

"Eh...maybe. If the offer's good," she laughed.

Her hand treaded through the back of his hair, her arm reaching across the console between them and in front of his headrest.  He relished the contact of her skin against him, the way she touched him still sent shivers down his spine. She wasn't going to talk about it. Whatever was bothering her, she was going to hold it in, he was pretty sure of that. It didn't matter that she probably knew he already figured out something was up; sometimes Pam still had problems communicating. He learned not to push, that eventually, she would come out and say it on her own.

"Hey Jim?"

 "Yeah?" he answered, settling at a stoplight, looking at her full on.

"Do you ever think of moments?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Pam sighed, and looked down playing with her wedding ring. "Like when would be the perfect moment for something? Or when would be a bad moment to do something and totally fuck up everything?"

Now Jim was definitely confused. "Um...well...you are talking to the guy who told you he loved you a few weeks before you were going to marry another guy. And let me add, one who proposed to you at a gas station."

Pam smiled warmly at him, and moved her hand back to touch his hair. His male brain wasn't quick to catch on, until her smile slowly faded and she looked up at him with the most sincerely honest face he'd ever seen.

"Pam, what's wrong?" he asked, completely ignoring the honking horns behind him as the light had changed to green.

"Um...this is the moment I tell you I think I'm pregnant."

***************

She was so small.

So tiny and yet she had the ability to reduce him to tears. He stood in the mirror of his bathroom, wiping the remnants of another crying session away because he didn't want to have to deal with everyone thinking poor pitiful Jim can't even be around his own baby. He wiped his face with a washcloth and looked up at the mirror. He hadn't shaved since yesterday for Pam's funeral and he really did look like shit.  His body was going to force him to sleep and he was going to have to find an appetite from somewhere because if he lost any weight, he'd look even lankier.

Downstairs, his family was crowded around Amanda's bassinet like it was the manger for the Baby Jesus. She commanded everyone's attention and she was lavished with it. Jim made sure he brought her home in the pink gingham outfit Pam personally picked out for her.  It was weird to dress her all alone (well the nurse was there, but whatever), and then placing her tiny body in the carrier. Let's not even discuss the fact he drove ten miles and hour the whole ride home. Everyone was there waiting for him, standing on the front stoop with bated breath. A birth announcement stork he had ordered a month ago adorned his lawn and Jim tried not to rip it down when he saw it had "Congrats Jim and Pam!" on it. It wasn't the stork's fault.

One might say he was a bit of a fanatic over how people handled Amanda. He sat out a huge bottle of hand sanitizer and a roll of paper towels in the bathroom too. His sister in-law Nancy was impressed while Tom made fun of him to get him to at least crack a smile.

"Geez, I'm not going to give her Ebola, Jim," Tom cracked.

Jim glared at him and squirted more sanitizer on his hand. At least he wouldn't have to deal with this alone. Larissa and Ellen practically moved into the guest room and living room area, so he had to look forward to two women watching his every move with her.  That was understandable, given the fact he had virtually no experience with newborn babies or babies in general but he hoped they wouldn't hover. Bonding with Amanda was important now. She needed to know her daddy was here, and she was okay. They would be okay together somehow and everyday he'd tell her how much her mother loves-loved her.

Jim finally pulled himself together enough to go downstairs and Ellen was coming out of the kitchen. "Good timing. She's hungry."

"The nurse fed her before we left the hospital and Mom fed her awhile ago."

"She'll eat every two hours, Jim."

"Yeah...I'm sorry I'm new at this."

"It's okay. You'll get the hang of it. Before you know it, you're be feeding her, washing the dishes, and doing expense reports all at the same time!" Ellen chuckled.

He wondered how she did it. How she seemed to be so much more stable in her mourning than him. He knew she was just as devastated as him, but he could sense that just like Pam, Ellen would be a rock when she needed to be. She would still her own storm to calm others.

He took the bottle and nodded at her, walking into the family room, where Ron was holding her and smiling as she fussed a bit.  Jim adjusted the burping cloth over his shoulder as Ron looked so amused at his grandbaby, "She's definitely cranky when she's hungry!"

"Yeah," Jim said quietly as Ron lifted her into Jim's arms. He held her close to him, rocking her a bit as he settled back in a comfortable arm chair. Everyone was watching him, looking. Look at the poor widower bastard trying to take care of the baby. Okay maybe he was paranoid. They were definitely looking at Amanda.

"So...I know you're tired so we're going to head out," Tom replied and Nancy smiled, patting Jim on the shoulder.

"She's beautiful. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Nancy."

"She looks just like Pam," Nancy said sadly, before turning and leaving.

Jim just nodded and said goodbye and that seemed to start a trend as people started filtering out. He didn't even realize it was dark outside. He looked down at her perfect pink face, with her adorable little nose and rosy cheeks. God, she looked like Pam. He touched her soft skin with his finger and adjusted her to get them both comfortable. She sucked on her bottle, her eyes only partially open and he sat back and just watched her in amazement. This is what Pam meant. This is what Pam needed to be here to see. How absolutely wonderful Amanda turned out to be.

Jim could hear Larissa and Ellen preparing bottles in the kitchen, the television as on but it was background noise. He looked down and smiled as his daughter seemed to have abandoned her bottle and fallen asleep. Slowly, he slipped the bottle out of her mouth and rocked her gently for a moment, when her eyes jerked open slightly and she made a big snore. Beside them, someone had moved Jim and Pam's engagement photo to the end table. He stared at it, for a long time, trying to contain his emotions. His wife was dead for five days now. His daughter was five days old. He's lost so much and yet he was holding his everything right now.

He had no idea why that filled that empty space up so suddenly. He let out a strangled laugh as tears filled his eyes. "Hey, you. Hey. Hello. Hi."

She looked at him and then her eye lids dropped back down. Her tiny finger wrapped around his, her grip strong, holding onto her father, and he couldn't fight the smile that snuck onto his face.

The next two months seemed to go by slowly for Jim. Everyday was harder than the next as the reality of everything settled and he was left in its wake with Pam gone. And everyday that passed he wanted to curl up and disappear, because the ache stayed right in the pit of his stomach, but he knew he couldn't. He felt ripped in two most days. Part of him willing for some unseen force to take him to Pam, the other part determined to be the best father Amanda could have. One day he would feel relatively fine, able to get up and get dressed and face the world. The next day he'd stay curled up in his bed, sobbing until he heard Amanda cry into her monitor.

There were times he had dark thoughts. Jim never told anyone about them for fear they would take Amanda from him. He would stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, the steam from the running shower that was forgotten rising around him. And he would look at his wrists, and his razor and wonder if it would be like slipping into a deep dark. But it was always Amanda that pulled him back in. She always called him back, and that's another reason in a list of reasons why he loved her so much.

Ellen and Larissa were right; he was getting pretty good at juggling the responsibilities of fatherhood. He had no choice actually. So Jim dedicated himself to the act full time, learning every thing he could to make Amanda's life easier. His life a little more bearable too, just a little though. It helped that he had 10 weeks off from Dunder-Mifflin, so he took that opportunity to bond with his daughter and reflect on how the hell he was going to make it as a single parent. It was hard to not wish Pam was beside him, laughing as he bathed Amanda. Or Pam rocking in the chair she was so amped to buy as she soothed Amanda's cries.

At the beginning, he was afraid to leave her in her crib at night, afraid if he rested, that's when something would happen to her. So he literally stood watch over her at night. Those thoughts attacked him frequently, and Pam's father Ron was concerned. He suggested Jim go see a therapist to help him get through everything. It took all his strength not to tell Pam's father to go to hell. Jim wasn't crazy...much. He wasn't out of his mind. Death had waged some kind of war with Jim and checkmated him by taking Pam. He'd be damned if they got Amanda too.

Amanda was getting so big so fast. Her brown hair had a slight curl to it, like her mother's and she was awake more. Very aware of her surroundings and the people involved in raising her. Larissa picked up the slack when Jim had to run errands and Ellen came down every other weekend to check on her. 

She was sitting in her bouncy seat, sporting a pink and white onesie, pink socks, and an "I Love My Daddy" bib on, watching Jim parade around the kitchen fixing her bottle. It was a nightly ritual, close to her dinner time (well one of them anyway), and he whistled as he warmed up one the many prepared bottles in the fridge.

Her large green eyes darted around, trying to keep up with his urgent pace, as her father moved from the refrigerator to the stove, to the sink, and to the counter. Finally he stood in front of her, smiling his big grin, holding up a bottle.

"Would you like to see the wine list?" he cooed to her, and she yawned. "Wow. Is that how you feel about my joke? It bores you, literally? Okay, fine, I got that from Three Men and a Baby. Sue me."

Jim sat down at the table and fed her the bottle with one hand while he flipped through a newspaper with his other hand looking for competent day care providers. He was going back to work soon, and he'd need someone to take care of her. He wasn't at all comfortable with allowing some stranger to care for her while he was at work. After all, how did he know any of these people were legit, and were fully capable of giving his daughter all the attention she needs? Larissa couldn't watch her full time because she was long term substituting at a middle school. Ellen still lived an hour and a half away.

He looked up to see she had fallen asleep in the middle of eating, so he pulled the bottle gently out of her mouth, grabbed the burping cloth, and gently picked her up to burp her. His large hand softly stroked her small back; his palm was basically the size of her entire body.  The baby squirmed and fussed, and he chuckled, because this is a ritual he went through with her every day. 

"Stop falling asleep during dinner. It's rude, and it's embarrassing," he whispered into her tiny ear and she burped right in his as a response. "Now that was just uncalled for."

Amanda had to be the most beautiful baby on the planet. No one could convince him otherwise. He cherished the moments he could just watch her, like when she napped, pin pointing parts of her that reminded him so much of her mother. And then, that ache would grow and hang there, but he'd always push through it, for Amanda.

Just then the door bell rang and Jim looked up confused. It was about 9:00pm and no one in their right mind would show up this late at night. Amanda snuggled into his arms as he moved cautiously towards the living room and checked the window. The parked car in front of his house was familiar.

He walked over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Open the door douche bag."

Jim bit his lip and shook his head as he unlocked the front door and Mark walked in.

"Hey!!" Mark exclaimed, pointing to Amanda.

Jim shushed him, whispering harshly, "Not so loud. I'm trying to put her to bed."

Mark nodded and shut the door behind him. "Sorry. Wow, she's getting bigger every time I see her. What the hell are you feeding her?"

"First off dude, watch your mouth in front of the innocent and pure baby," Jim frowned, walking towards the living room. "What's with the late night visit? You forget how to use a phone?"

"It's only 9 o'clock. Are you serious?" Mark replied, checking his watch and falling back onto the couch. He began to move the pile of toys and blankets scattered there to the side.

"Well, I'm about to put the baby to bed and probably go to sleep myself, so..."

"It's only nine o'clock, Jim."

"Yeah, I know. It's getting late."

Mark looked at him oddly and then shook his head. "Um...okay. Whatever. Why don't you get her to bed, and then come back down here, I want to talk to you. Night Night Amanda!"

Jim rolled his eyes and walked up the stairs towards Amanda's nursery. He removed her bib and her socks, laid her down gently. After turning on the monitor, and kissing her little forehead, he went back downstairs.

"What?" Jim grumbled out as he watched Mark play with one of Amanda's toys.

"Is that how you greet a friend?"

"Oh, sorry about that.  What I meant was, what do you want in the middle of the night?" Jim replied, attaching his monitor to his hip.

"Wow, nothing sexier than a man with a baby monitor and baby vomit on his shirt," Mark sighed. "And middle of the night? Dude...it's now 9:05!"

"I sleep when the baby sleeps. She's asleep now and you're cutting into my sleep. So now, I'm getting cranky. I love you Mark, but I am not above kicking your ass out so I can catch some rest."

Mark sighed. "I just...haven't heard from you in awhile and the guys were wondering when you were going to come hang out and play some ball with us. Probably all go get matching tattoos or something too. But mostly...we just want to hang out with you."

Jim shook his head as he began to pick up the mess all around them.  "You know I can't. I mean, look at this place. I just...can't."

"Sure you can! Ellen or Larissa will probably be here. They want you to go out at least once in awhile. No one can be a hermit forever. Newman is killing me with his awful lay ups and half court shots that aren't anywhere close to the basket. I'm losing a lot of money and I'm getting pissed. I need you!"

"Sounds rough. Good luck with that."

"Why do you hate us? You can't stay in here forever," Mark countered.  He just didn't get it. He didn't think it was healthy for Jim to sit in the house all day. Even women needed time with friends after having baby. "I mean, I just feel like you need to get back in the gist of things. I don't think playing ball is too much to ask."

"I have way too much to do around here. I'm going back to work soon and the weekends will be all I have with her. Then there's laundry, shopping, fixing her bottles, paying bills. I don't have time for games anymore."

"You can do all that, after an hour of ball. Seriously, Jim.  All we're asking for is an hour."

Jim was irritated. He knew Mark was being genuine and really missed having him around, but what was he supposed to do?  "Well...been kind of busy and all with the whole ‘wife dying and having a baby to raise' thing."

Mark didn't like where this was going. He could tell Jim was getting defensive.  "Look man, I didn't mean it like that. I know everything is still settling, and I never expected you to just...I never wanted any of this to happen to you. You're like my brother, and I...I just know I want to do my part and help you in some way."

Jim sat on the arm of the recliner. "Thanks. That means a lot, Mark. I'm grateful for you even trying. But right now, it's too soon. It's way too soon..."

Both men were quiet for a moment before Jim continued, "I don't know if I can do this. I'm still trying to figure it out. So...I don't know if I can ever be okay with...any of this. All I know is that Amanda is my focus. One hundred percent right now because that's the only thing, the only thing keeping me from drowning."

Mark looked as Jim closed his eyes like he was in deep pain. "I'm sorry, Jim. I thought....I thought I would be helping you if I dragged you out by your hair to hang with us. I can't imagine what you're going through. I know...I know Pam was your everything."

Jim opened his eyes and leveled a sad look at his friend. "Now Amanda is. I just need to..."

Mark nodded knowingly as Jim's voice faded into nothing, "I know."

Their night wasn't supposed to be this way. They were supposed to be happy after telling their parents about the news over an expensive dinner. "You're expecting a grandchild" was supposed to be more than Pam's mother in the restroom crying because her father Ron stupidly brought a date with him to the dinner. It was supposed to be more than Pam running off to comfort her mother, or the awkwardness of Jim and his parents sitting with Ron and a girl who was pretty damn close to Pam's age. The night was supposed to be more than Jim being upset that his father in law had become a douchebag of sorts, his mother-in-law was a nervous wreck, his beautiful wife was upset and frustrated, and his parents were bewildered about the whole situation.

But like everything that was thrown their way, every obstacle or dramatic event, Jim and Pam always came through it together. He knew tonight was important for them, and of course, that's why it couldn't have gone right. The moment he watched her come out of the restaurant's bathroom, her eyes red from crying, her arms wrapped around herself protectively, all he wanted to do was scoop her up and take her and their child back home where everything was safe and okay.

It was like a scene out of a soap opera. Jim and Pam arrived at the restaurant, where Jim's parents and Pam's mom were already waiting. They agreed to be seated, even though Ron hadn't showed yet. Jim and Pam were trying to hold out for Ron, trying not to let anything slip before hand. The conversation at the table was light hearted and pleasant, until Pam's mother Ellen stopped talking in mid sentence and her jaw dropped. Slowly everyone's eyes followed her glare, landing on Ron entering the restaurant...with a young woman. He seemed oblivious to the fact Ellen, and Pam at this point, was still glaring at him as he made his introductions.

"And this is my favorite son in law, Jim," Ron said, clapping Jim on the back, as Jim took a huge gulp of water. Jim looked over to Pam, who couldn't stop burning laser eyes at her father. The young woman seemed completely unmindful of the stares she was receiving. She sat down and took a roll...even asked Jim for some butter. And before anyone knew, Ellen jumped up and shouted about Ron being an unimaginable bastard, before running towards the restroom.

"Mom's still in there," Pam replied. They stood in the alcove entry way to the restrooms. She had been in the restroom trying to console her mother for about fifteen minutes now.

Jim simply nodded, his eyes focused on her.  He had left his parents still sitting at the table, probably ordering more wine to lessen the awkwardness of the night's events.  What was he supposed to say? Sorry your father fucked up our baby announcement and made your mom cry with his pompous childish behavior? That wouldn't be a good idea.

Instead he settled for a softly spoken, "How is she?"

"Not...good. God, Jim! Can you believe him?! How could he do this to her?" Pam exclaimed, before settling back, her hand resting on her forehead.

"I know, it's crazy right?"

"I don't understand what's going on in his head. How he can throw thirty years of marriage back in her face like that?!"

Jim looked down at his own wedding ring. "I have no idea. It's...it was very insensitive and really stupid."

Pam frowned. "It was worse than that! That was a total asshole move! And I just called my own father an asshole, Jim. An asshole!"

Pam's exclamation gained stares from passers by. Jim sighed and whispered, "Yes. It was...very asshole like. Ya know, maybe we should stop saying that word."

"I just...agh! He ruined it, Jim. And does he hate my mom so much it doesn't bother him in the slightest that bringing a date might not be a good idea? Or the fact that he has a date at all! The ink isn't even dry on their divorce papers and he's dating! And on top of that, I swear that girl was in my eleventh grade English class!"

"I was thinking your gym course, but yeah...she does look about our age. But Pam...you can't...you can't be upset right now. It's not healthy for you or the baby."

"Upset?! Jim...my father is a humongous asshole. That is just a fact of the situation right now. And I'm allowed to be upset. He ruined our night. He ruined it with his selfish behavior. I can't believe him!" Pam's cheeks were flushed, and she flared her arms about for emphasis. Jim put his finger to her lips to quiet her before the restaurant kicked the Halpert-Beesly party out for making one too many scenes.

Pam hushed as Jim dropped his finger from her lips and he leaned in to kiss her gently instead. "I know you're upset. But we need to handle this appropriately before this becomes another Chili's incident. I'm so sorry this happened, Pam.  I don't know how your father could have done this, to either of you."

She looked up at him, tears brimming her eyes and she whispered out. "I just...I want to get her home and I want to go home now."

His hands slipped into hers and her pulled her to him, holding her head against his chest and kissing the top of her head as he nodded, "We're going home."

Three weeks had passed since the disaster of an announcement dinner, and Jim and Pam had opted to simply tell their parents over the phone. To their relief, their parents seemed happy for them and no one harassed them about the rushed time line. Pam was initially uneasy about revealing the news over the phone, but after much thought, she realized it was the best idea.

Lately, she had been experiencing morning sickness even more than before, and it was getting harder for her to hide the news from their co workers. Plus, Pam felt absolutely miserable in general, and kept repeating the mantra that she was going to suck as a parent and she couldn't do this. Jim spent most of his time swearing ten ways ‘til Sunday that they were ready for this.  He calmly tried to ease her doubts, to be her sounding board when listening to how angry she was that Angela told her she was getting fat and how Kevin agreed.

"They aren't even supposed to know, Jim. And here I am, swelling from every extremity. It's so obvious. I swear, Angela knows. "

"Well," he said coyly, looking directly at her chest. "The swelling is awesome if you ask me."

"Which I didn't," she glared.

"Point taken. And Angela doesn't know. Now Dwight...is a different story. He like, tracks all the menstrual cycles in the office. That's who worries me."

That didn't comfort her at all. Jim even put up with the intense need for her to Febreeze everything to her liking.  He'd do anything to make her comfortable and happy, as long as the end result was them being together, holding their baby.

"PAM! I forgot to tell you we got...a card from your Dad!" Jim yelled as he stomped up the steps, almost choking on the mouthful of ham and cheese sandwich he was devouring.

Jim walked to the doorway, the last bit of sandwich shoved in his cheeks. He went to enter the room, but paused when he saw her standing in her underwear, looking in the mirror. She brushed her curls away from her shoulders, running her hands over the slight bump formed where her once flat abs used to be. Just the sight of that caused a grin to spread across Jim's face, and suddenly he forgot about everything else, what he was coming to tell her in the first place; he wanted to capture that image in his head.

He knocked, even though it was his room as well so not to startle her, a satisfied smile on his face. "Hey..."

Pam turned around, a little blushed like she had been caught doing something naughty. "Oh...hey."

They stood there and stared at each other for a moment, before he shook out of his trance and looked down at the card in his hand. "Um, your dad...he sent a card."

She walked over, rolling her eyes and sighing. "Probably an apology card for being selfish. You think they have card for that at Hallmark?"

 "Yep. Right beside the ‘Sorry I hit your dog' section," Jim replied, his eyes following her as she sat on the bed and slipped on her nightgown.

"Thing is...I'm not even mad anymore. Just...disappointed. And a little afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Jim asked, walking over to sit beside her on the bed.

"Afraid that that will be us one day. I don't ever want that to be us."

"I can pretty much promise you that will never happen. Like...ever. I took that whole ‘death do us part thing seriously. And even then...I'll most likely haunt you," he smirked and she laughed, playfully elbowing him.

"I know...it's just... sometimes I feel like I'm not ready. Like maybe this is too soon. I mean, we just got married a few months ago. I mean, we've barely had time to enjoy each other and now we're bringing a baby into the situation. I just...it doesn't seem fair. Does that make me a bad person?" she asked, dropping her eyes to twisting hands.

Jim sighed and tried to reassure her. "Of course not."  

"I wanted to enjoy us first. To travel. To...make love all day. Just us."

"What am I? A machine?" Jim joked but he could sense she was not in a joking manner.

Jim looked at her, honestly looked at her face. It was etched with worry and fear. He turned to her and took her hands in his. "I don't think we've rushed anything. We've waited so long to be together, Pam, I really don't think anything we do can be considered ‘too fast'.  Years. This should have happened years ago as far as I am concerned. You are...I knew ever since I met you, you were supposed to be with me. And just because we're having a baby doesn't mean we can't still enjoy each other. You have no idea how much I want you, do you?"

He saw a blush creep up her cheeks as she looked over to him. Jim decided to take that opportunity to kiss her and his hand drifted down to her stomach, and her hand came over his hand. "I love you, so much. I love that we've made this baby together. Don't you ever be scared of that, do you hear me?"

His lips gently brushed against hers and she reciprocated back with a deeper push of her lips. Reluctantly, Jim pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. "We're not your parents, Pam. We're us, and we're going to make it. And we're going to make more babies. And each time...it'll get easier, I promise."

Pam closed her eyes and laughed as she said, "Ugh...what am I? A machine?"

He didn't have time to answer, because her mouth was on his again.

It was Jim's first day back at Dunder -Mifflin after two months or so. He stood awkwardly in the parking lot, not sure if he was ready for this. He didn't think he was, but he knew he had to get back to work, he had to support Amanda, and then there were bills he was responsible for.  She worked there too. She worked there and her stuff was probably still there, because he was pretty sure Michael would have refused to have her things packed away. It was too much, too fast, too soon. The wave of anxiety hit him hard and he could barely breath, could barely make his legs move as he walked to the elevator and on his way to the office.

The door felt heavier than he remembered, and everything seemed to feel like he wasn't even in his own body as he walked over the threshold and into the very place that gave him his soul mate. Everyone looked up at him as he walked in, and it was a bit intense to feel their eyes on him as he walked to his desk. Phyllis gave him a sad smile, Stanley too. Kevin raised a fist in the air until Angela hissed at him to put his arm down. Oscar nodded in kind, and Meredith winked. Creed was asleep and Andy's "Tunnnnaaa" was barely a whisper. The only person ignoring him was Dwight, who was staring at his spreadsheet.

Jim sat his bag down and slipped in his chair, switching on his computer. Dwight still said nothing, still didn't even look at him. Jim didn't even care. He was trying hard not to look at Pam's desk. Not to notice it. Not to be completely dismantled by the fact it existed.  His eyes drifted to the pictured of her that cluttered his desk. She looked so beautiful, her smile bright and lively. And that ache that settled in his stomach began to rise up like bile in his throat. He turned away quickly, tears threatening to come out, and instead, focused on accessing his email.

"Jimbo?! Is that you?" Michael's voice yelped through the air, and before Jim could turn around, he felt Michael's arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight.

"Michael!" Jim wheezed as Michael clung to him.

"Oh my god! I'm so glad you're back!"

"Michael let go of him," Phyllis chastised.

"You're hurting me Michael!" Jim coughed and Michael released him. Jim sputtered and sat forward to catch his breath.

"We're so glad you're back, Jim."

Once Jim caught his breath he sat back and looked at Michael. "Thanks. It's only half days for about a week and then I'll go back to forty hours."

"Of course. Whatever you need. And if Toby gives you any trouble, I will personally punch him the face."

Jim frowned. "Um...not at all necessary. But, thanks?"

"Anything for you, Jimbo. How's Amanda?"

Jim turned back around to check his emails. He could talk about Amanda all day, but he didn't want Michael to say anything to spark something about Pam. "She's fine. She's with a sitter. I should call and check on her."

"Okay."

Jim grabbed his phone receiver for emphasis. "Okay."

"Good to have you back," Michael replied and smacked him on the back. "We missed you buddy. Both...of you."

He wasn't just using the call as an excuse to get rid of Michael, even though it worked.  He really was going to call every hour on the hour until he left because he was worried sick about leaving her with some strange sitter. What if she was confused? Or scared? What if they didn't hold her enough? What if she wanted him and he wasn't there? He punched the numbers in and listened anxiously for someone to pick up.

"Rainbow-kins Childcare, Melissa speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm...Jim Halpert. Today was my two month old daughter's first day. Her name is Amanda Halpert. I called early. I just wanted to know how she was doing."

"Let me transfer you to the infant playroom. Hold please."

He waited, his knee bouncing as the phone rang. He turned to look at Dwight, who was scowling at him.

Sneeringly, Dwight snorted, "You put her in a daycare facility? That's the worst thing you could do. Have you never heard of a wet nurse? God, you're an idiot. Learn to use the yellow pages, Jim. My parents hired a wet nurse for us, and it was the best experience of our lives. So nurturing..."

Jim stared at him, still waiting for the other end to pick up. "First off...hello Dwight. And secondly...what? A wet nurse? Seriously? What century is this?"

Dwight frowned, "Don't turn you nose up at it, Jim. The fondest memories I had was nestling in Karina's arms. Then she weaned me off to make time for my brother. It was traumatizing. You just don't do that to a seven year old without giving him notice. I was devastated."

"Hold that thought...hello, yes, it's Jim Halpert, just calling again to um...check on Amanda..." Jim was so happy when the play room picked up, because no one should be having this type of conversation.

He got a good report on Amanda's progress, and hung up the phone satisfied. The daycare was probably annoyed with his obsessive calling but he didn't care. Amanda was all he had. Some days he was sure he needed her more than she needed him. He glanced up to see his co workers staring at him, before they all embarrassingly tried to act as if they weren't. Annoyed, his eyes fell back to Pam's smiling picture. 

He sadly smiled back at it and tried his damnedest to concentrate on work.

Jim turned off the ignition, and sighed heavily. The rain pounded on the roof of the car and the world outside of his Subaru seemed vengeful and angry. He didn't want Amanda to be apart of that. Unfortunately for him, Michael forced him to participate in Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, and had made it nearly impossible to give an excuse why Amanda would be better off at her day care. Jim was subjected to Michael's whining for a whole week prior. So he relented, and told Michael the most he could do was bring her in for half a day.  The office loved when Amanda visited. Something about her just made everyone light up like Christmas trees. Jim's desk was covered in pictures of Amanda, and slowly, everyone had some sort of picture of her on their desk. Everyone but Creed. Jim just wasn't sure giving him one was the best idea. She was the light of his life and her light was so bright, it even brightened everyone else's.

Jim turned in the back seat where she sat in her car seat, looking wide eyed to the world outside. Amanda was only ten months old, yet so aware. Her brown curls peeked from under the yellow hat and raincoat. Jim smiled at her as she looked out of the window in amazement.

"Hey Amanda, look at Daddy. Hey there, pretty girl. Ready to go inside?" he asked, reaching behind him and holding her small hand. Amanda just looked at him, giggled and then put one chubby hand in her mouth. "I know what you're thinking. Daddy, why do you keep subjecting me to ‘the Dwight'? And Michael...and...Angela... I don't mean to, sweetie. Don't hold that against me. And if you feel like you have to burp in his face, I totally support that. That makes Daddy a bad person, but I'm only human."

She just stared at him, with her big green eyes and he stroked her soft cheek before getting out in the rain to take her inside the building.

Jim stepped off the elevator, struggling to carry Amanda, her diaper bag, and her bouncy seat. He was literally soaked, the umbrella was useless. As soon as he stepped into the office, he stopped and noticed Becky, the new receptionist, did not put up a banner for the day. Not only that, the office was quiet. There were no children. At all.  Stanley's daughter might have been too old, and Meredith's, but Sasha was still a good age and Becky had twins, and... Everyone was typing away at their desks, like any other day. Jim's eyes scanned the room, and slowly he came to the realization. Michael lied. There was no sign, there weren't even any other kids commemorating Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. Michael tricked him.

"Jimbo! Mandy!" Michael's shrieking voice assaulted the air."Look everyone! It's Amanda!"

He rushed out of his office towards Jim, who was glaring at his boss.

Dwight looked up from his paper work stoically, and over at Jim. "This isn't Daddy Day Care. This is not a kid friendly environment."

"Tell me something I don't know, Dwight," Jim leveled an intense scowl in Michael's direction as he walked over to his desk and placed the bags down, while still holding Amanda. "This place isn't safe. For children or adults."

Dwight snorted. "I feel totally safe. I have my potato gun strapped under my desk."

"Not what I was talking about," Jim sighed, and looked over at Michael, who was making faces at Amanda. "It really wasn't Bring Your Daughter to Work Day...was it?"

Michael didn't even have the decency to hide the truth. "No."

"Oh, Michael....shame on you," Phyllis shook her head and Stanley rolled his eyes.

Jim was unsnapping Amanda's coat as he coldly asked, "And you lied when you said it was the last one we would ever have, and that Amanda just had to be here for her first and last one. Right?"

Michael nodded pathetically.

Jim sat down, playing with the baby's fingers, as he swiveled in his chair to lecture Michael. She sat in his lap and also looked up at Michael.  "Why do you do these things? It's a torrential rain storm outside, and I had to lug a diaper bag, a bouncy seat, and a baby up here...by myself."

Everyone had turned in their chairs to listen to Michael's excuses. Oscar and Kevin lingered by the copier.

"I just missed Amanda. She's a great and beautiful little girl. You know how much I love little girls- I mean, I love playing with other people's children- I mean...anyway, since you said I couldn't come to your house anymore..."

"No, I said you couldn't come unless you call, Michael. And it's at a decent hour. And you can't talk about your sex life in front of Amanda."

"Same difference."

"No, it's completely different. This isn't a joke. I still have to pay the sitter a whole day's fee. And again...it's raining! This was so not cool," Jim sighed out, and then dropped his lips to kiss Amanda's head.

"I'm sorry. I just...we love her, okay? She'll have fun today. I swear," Michael replied eagerly. "Hey...tell you what? I'm going to go to the nearest toy store and buy her a toy-"

"No, Michael. You really don't need to do that," Jim sighed.

"Yes! Yes, I do!" Michael yelped, grabbing his coat. "What does she like? Wubbzy? Ollie's Sing Along? Dora?"

"Michael-"Jim went to ask how he even knew that, and that he shouldn't worry about it, but he was too late.

"I'll be right back!" And with that Michael ran out of the office.

Jim just turned around in his chair, to see Phyllis and Kelly standing there, bouncing on their heels. "Can we hold her?"

"You promise not to put lip gloss on her this time, Kelly?"

Kelly frowned. "Fine. But just for the record, she liked it."

Jim sighed and nodded, handing Amanda gently off to an excited Phyllis and a really giddy Kelly as they walked towards the break room. He turned back towards his computer and opened his email.

"Tuna?"

Jim looked over at Andy, a bit annoyed by the morning so far.

"Little Tuna is absolutely adorable. Seriously. I would look into baby pageants. Get her all dolled up. My mom did that to me. It made a huge impact on my life," Andy gave a thumbs up and then looked morose. "Until that whole scandal."

Jim turned back to his computer, confused. He knew the office loved Amanda. They were extremely supportive after...after. Phyllis loved to sit for Jim when he had to run errands and his mother wasn't around. Michael, as stated, always popped up randomly to visit them. Toby didn't give him a hard time when he had to take off because Amanda had an ear infection. They rallied about Jim and Amanda.

After awhile, Amanda became fussy with Phyllis, and Jim had to soothe her. He sat at his desk, tickling her and cooing to her. Phyllis was turned slightly in her seat, watching happily and Stanley chuckled at the little girl's squeals. Andy was humming a nursery rhyme that caught her attention. Dwight had even cracked a smile, when the door opened and Charles walked in. He grumbled a greeting to Becky and stopped short when he saw Jim holding Amanda.

"Well...who do we have here?"

Jim felt a tension settle in his neck and his spine stiffened as he turned towards Charles. Everyone turned to their screens, trying to act busy. The very tone of Charles' voice let him know he wasn't very approving of the scene.

"Hey, Charles. This is my daughter, Amanda."

"Oh, wow. She's very cute, Jim," Charles replied, removing his gloves and bending down to look at her. "Hello little one. How old is she?"

"Ten months. But she always lies about her age, tries to tell people she's a year old already," Jim replied, immediately chastising himself for making a joke. Charles was not amused. He never was amused by Jim.

"Well, this little cutey is going to be a heart breaker," Charles replied, standing back to full height. "Can I see you in the conference room? Perhaps, um...Phyllis can watch her for you."

Jim looked over at a nervous Phyllis. "Um...sure. Phyllis do you mind? Just...she probably needs a nap...or something."

Phyllis nodded her head and he handed her the baby, then walked behind Charles into the conference room. After the door was closed, Charles gestured that Jim should sit in front of him.

"Such a cute baby you have there. Jim, Jim, Jim."

"Thank you."

"Again, let me extend my condolences regarding Pam. I didn't know her well, but she was an asset to this company."

Jim didn't say anything, he just looked down at his wedding ring, still shiny and not even two years old on his finger.

Charles continued, spreading papers in front of him, "Dunder-Mifflin has been very supportive since your loss, wouldn't you say?"

Jim scratched his chin, the gears in his head turning as he struggled to figure out what this conversation would be about. "Yes, the company has been very great about everything."

"Good. So, when I say this, it's because I think the company has done a lot to understand your situation. But the fact that you think you can bring your daughter to work with you, whenever you feel-"

Jim sat straight and scowled. "Um...that's not-"

"I mean, I get that you are doing the best you can, given your situation but I can't look away when you decide that you'd rather spend company time playing with your daughter."

"That's not...no, see Michael-"

Charles chuckled bitterly, "So you're going to blame it on Michael?"

"No. I--You have it all wrong. Michael told me today was Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, and it wasn't. So now I have to keep her until the sitter is available this afternoon. I did not just bring her to work like it's show and tell."

"Jim, you really expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, because that's what happened,"Jim stated firmly.

"I have a hard time believing you couldn't simply check the corporate calendar."

Jim shook his head; he could feel anger building in his gut, rising in his throat. "I was tricked, and this is not something I do or plan to do very often.  I could have checked the calendar, but I wasn't expecting to be lied to. And no one's upset she's here, it doesn't affect my work, or the work atmosphere out there. Everyone loves Amanda."

Charles cocked his head to the side, and snidely remarked. "We can't change policy just because the office loves your daughter. That's a bit exploitative of your situation, don't you think?"

It felt like a train ran through his skull, the loudness of it was deafening. Exploitative?  This guy honestly thought Jim would take advantage of people's kindness after Pam's death? This guy really thought this about him? If only he knew, if only Charles knew how Jim wished everyone would fucking stop looking at him like a lost puppy, how tired he was of the sympathetic looks or treatment, because that only made things worse.

As the acid flowed onto Jim's tongue and he felt himself ready to spew some pretty nasty remarks to Charles, Michael abruptly entered the conference room, holding a bag full of toys he just purchased. "Hey, Jim! So I got-Charles?"

Michael looked from Jim to Charles and back to Jim, who was barely able to push down the rage he wanted to unleash on Charles. "Jim, Amanda needs you. Kevin keeps trying to feed her M&Ms."

Jim's eyes was staring daggers into Charles, but the sound of Amanda's name pulled him out of that haze and he slowly stood up and walked wordlessly out of the conference room, not even seeing Michael shutting the door behind him and closing the blinds.  Jim walked slowly to the break room, where Phyllis sat with her, smiling as Meredith played Patty-cake with her.

"You okay, Jim?" Meredith asked.

"Yeah, was she any trouble?" he asked, sitting beside them, reaching a hand out to slightly touch the baby's cheek. Amanda reached for him, and he took her, holding her in his lap and kissing her forehead. She was his calm, she was his light. If anything, this proved it, because he totally just felt the urge to deck Charles. Phyllis and Meredith excused themselves back to their desks, and Jim just sat there, holding Amanda, taking in her soft smell, her soft skin, her innocence. Not that long ago, it was Pam who would have calmed him, loved him, settled him.

Michael walked in a few moments later, holding a Wubbzy stuffed animal. "Look what I got, Amanda! A Woobzer or whatever! The guy at the Toy Store was no help. Teenagers. Not so long ago, they were playing with these. HEY THERE AMANDA!"

Her cherub cheeks turned red and she grinned wide at Michael's exaggerated movements and he teased her a bit, before looking up at Jim. "By the way, Jim, Charles won't be a problem. You can bring Amanda whenever you want. I got David's approval, and he pretty much told Charles to back off."

"Really?" Jim said, half smiling. "David told him to back off?"

"Yep, wiped that smug look off his face. David and I are like besties, and he kind of likes you too so, the choice was obvious," Michael replied, teasing Amanda again, before giving her the toy. "She's family, and no one messes with my family."

The only sounds that could be heard in the office was the hum of the copier, the sound of typing fingers and the soft snoring coming from Pam's desk.

Jim looked over his computer monitor, seeing her chin drop to her chest, her eyes closed, and her mouth slightly agape. And even if she did have some drool coming out of her mouth, he thought she looked absolutely gorgeous. He could stare at her for hours. But as it were, he had to wake her.  He cleared his throat and then said very loudly, "Pam?! Pam?! Do you have the reference list for the card stock? I lost mine."

She jerked awake, her head snapping up and her jaw slamming shut. She turned, bewildered and wide eyes to him, just as Dwight lifted his eyes from his monitor and glared at her. "Um...yeah, yeah...I think..."

Dwight shook his head. "Dammit, Jim. You lost the product catalogue, the memo Toby sent, and now the reference list? All in what? Four hours? How irresponsible. But then again, that's the type of person you are."

"I also need the portfolio review template."

"Why do you even come to work? You are useless. Here...thank goodness I made eight back ups to the back up copy that I made in case I lost my 1st copy. Here, just...take it."

He handed Jim the binder with the templates, and Jim smirked.

Jim clicked open his IM as he watched Pam wipe her mouth and try to look as if she had been working.

 Jim9334: Whew, close one.

Receptionitis:  How long was I out for this time?

Jim9334:  A few minutes. Maybe ten. I tried to let you get in some rest. You looked too adorable to wake up. Drool and all.

Receptionitis:  I hate you. Next time, you're incubating the baby.

With that, Pam pushed her chair back and stood her belly a little more evident than usual. Everyday she was getting bigger, and everyday they were expecting someone in the office to catch on. She walked towards the kitchen and Jim scanned the office to see if anyone noticed her. Apparently, everyone was caught up in their own world, in their own insanity; no one noticed Pam was expanding like the Good Year blimp. This was fine by them, because Jim and Pam pretty much agreed they weren't ready to share it just yet.

They always waited with bated breath for Michael to make mention of Pam's boobs being huge, or Kevin asking about her developing beer gut. But no one ever really said anything, and it was almost disappointing. Maybe no one cared as much as Jim and Pam assumed they would. But in the end, they agreed to still not unveil the information just yet. They were enjoying the first months by themselves, and Pam was finally getting over the first hump and finally getting over the morning sickness that plagued her.

He remembered a month ago, she was leaning over the toilet, hacking up the Thai food they had that night for dinner. He held her curls gently with his fingers, and rubbed her back lovingly, as she whimpered, "Why do they call it morning sickness? When it's ten o'clock at night and I'm still hurling?"

"I don't know. Because they suck. What did the Baby Bible say?"

He was referring to her favorite book nowadays, What to Expect When You're Expecting. Pam carried that book everywhere Jim relentlessly teased her about it.

"I don't know. Where is it? Is there a chapter on spewing forth all of your internal organs? "

"Um...that's gross and very graphic. It's by the bed. I'm not leaving you to go get that book, Pam. So don't even suggest it. How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?" she asked, smiling sadly and pathetically up at him. He smoothed the wild curls from her face and smiled.

"Beautiful," he whispered, because she truly did look beautiful to him, always has, always will.

"Liar."

"You need to brush your teeth."

"Thank you," she sighed, laying her head on his plaid pajama clad lap. He kept massaging her neck as she lay halfway on the bathroom floor and he sat on the ledge of the bathtub.

"You're welcome. But um...what are you thanking me for? You're the one doing everything."

"Being awesome."

"Well...it's a hard job and all..."

"Jim?"

"Still here," he replied, noting that this would probably continue well until midnight, but hoping she had puked out everything she could already.

"Did you ever think we'd be having a baby together? That we'd be married, ya know, all those...years ago when we first started?"

He wondered why she brought that up so suddenly. But in a way, he had to laugh because--"Yeah, I always thought we'd be doing just this. You'd be vomiting, and I'd be right here, holding your hair."

"Seriously-"

"I am serious. I always knew this is where we were supposed to be. I never saw anything else so clearly in my future," Jim said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. She looked up at him.

"Our future," she smirked.

"Yeah, our very bright future."

She was about to respond but suddenly she scrambled and leaned over the toilet again, heaving. And Jim moved back to his original position, holding her hair back. And despite the vomit, despite the chuckage...he never wanted to be anywhere else.

Amanda's small arms were wrapped securely around his neck and he had one of her pony tails flopping in and out of his face as they made their way up to the front steps of the Halpert summer lodge. Behind them, Jim pulled a suitcase with a Dora backpack strapped it. It was the annual Fourth of July Halpert shindig, and the family would meet up at the beautiful cabin in the Poconos and enjoy the four day weekend. Last year, Jim didn't make it up there, seeing as he had way too much happening, and he wasn't ready to hear the condolences from all his cousins and distant relatives that weren't able to make it to Pam's funeral. But this year, he was ready to enjoy himself, to try to live in some semblance of normalcy, and to show off two year old Amanda.

Her brown hair was longer now, curler, and she allowed him for once to actually style it with two ponytails. Of course, Jim had to bribe her by promising her he'd put long ribbons on them and tie them into bows like Grandma Ellen does most times.   It was amazing how girly she was, considering her influences were primary all Jim. Her pretty gingham printed short set and tiny new white keds were picked especially for the occasion, big family fun; another big milestone for Amanda. And as they were preparing to come up to the cabin, Jim was still unsure whether this year was a good year to go. Amanda was still pretty shy around new surroundings, and while she'd been around his immediate family most every other weekend, she'd never met the distant cousins or been to a place with "tall-tall trees"( as she called them on the drive up). He wanted her to experience this, like he had so many summers as a child. He wanted her to have her innocence and good memories considering her life started out in tragedy.

She clung to Jim when he took her out of her car seat.  He'd seen her be clingy before (daycare, and occasional moody day), but she was genuinely uncomfortable with their new surroundings. She didn't know this place and wasn't allowing him to put her down for even a second.  So Jim carried her, and all their stuff to the door, and as he rang the doorbell, Jim turned to her and gave her a big sloppy kiss on her cherub cheeks.  

"It's going to be so much fun!" he exclaimed and she gave him smile back. She was a total daddy's girl. Her smile was like her mother's, it lit up his whole inside. The door opened, and she tightened her arms possessively around his neck, her father a security blanket as Auntie Nancy peeked from the other side.

"Amanda!! Hey, everyone, look! It's Amanda!!" Nancy announced, and family scattered from all parts of the house and gathered into the front foyer.

The little girl clung to her Daddy, but smiled at her Auntie, not knowing why there were so many excited people to see her. Her eyes scanned the crowd, confused, bewildered. Jim stepped over the threshold and snorted.

"Wow. No ‘Hi Jim'? Nothing? Am I even invited?" he asked, noticing the stiffness in his daughter's posture. He leaned into her ear. "Hey, you see Auntie Nancy? Want to give her a hug? And there's Nana Rissa, and Uncle Tommy, and Uncle Petey."

He pointed to each person and her big green eyes landed on them. Pete waved and Tom winked at her. Larissa smiled at her warmly and Jim could feel her becoming less overwhelmed. A few of the cousins were touching her little shoes, or stroking her arm, but she wasn't off put by it.

"I'm sure Pop Pop is around here somewhere..." Jim said and he felt her arms loosen from their strangle hold as Nancy reached over and took Amanda out of his arms.

"Hey there," Larissa said, kissing Amanda's cheek and then Jim's.

"She's so big already!" Nancy replied, hugging the little girl. "Hey Amanda, you want to go in the play room with Vanessa, Cody, and the rest of the kids?"

Amanda gave a nod and Vanessa, Jim's fourteen year old niece appeared and took Amanda from Nancy.

Jim winked at Vanessa as she soothed Amanda, who was trying to reach for Jim again. "Watch her closely. And don't go teaching her craps or anything."

Vanessa smiled and walked away, talking to the little toddler. Amanda turned her face to Jim and he waved, hoping that she got used to her cousins because it would be a long weekend if she kept up the shy act.

The family dispersed after everyone said their greetings, leaving Jim's immediate family standing there. Larissa smiled at Jim as he placed his suitcase near the wall until room assignments. "Everyone kept wondering when you would get here. Pete wanted to start grilling without you. Thankfully Tom reminded him of the great grill fire of 1998."

Pete snorted as he approached and patted his brother's shoulder. "Can you believe the over exaggeration?"

"You burned down the deck. How is that for an over exaggeration?" Jim shrugged and was met with a playful punch to the shoulder. "I just hope Amanda has fun, you know?"

"She'll be fine," Nancy assured him.

The family moved into the kitchen and the back deck, where those in charge were setting up for the evening cook out. Jim moved from person to person, absently sipping on a light beer and trying to keep a light conversation.  He hadn't seen some of them in years, and now it's been at least two, so he'd figure there was some catching up to do. It proved a little difficult to navigate around the obvious. Every once in a while, someone would say "We're so sorry about Pam."

He still didn't know how to handle when someone said that. So he'd close his eyes, nod, and take a gulp of his beer, and then ask them did they need a refilling on their drinks. Anything to step away. Anything to get away from that because he had no desire to discuss the emptiness he'd been spending two years dealing with.  And in the back of his mind, he tried to squelch the thoughts that were bubbling up to the surface. Pam should be here with us. Pam should be sitting here, leaning against me, looking out on the lake. Pam should be holding Amanda, trying to get her to eat potato salad. Pam should be here. It was so tiring to be the one everyone pitied, to be the one everyone knew was broken. And he was broken, permanently, but some of him still worked--the part that Amanda needed worked, anyway.

Jim looked out toward the back yard as Vanessa pushed a giggling Amanda on the swing set, and he waved at them, holding his second beer of the day in his hand just for show.  He wasn't much of a drinker, but it was moments like these, he willed himself...forbid himself to let go and just drink because he knew if he did, he would learn to self medicate himself into cirrhosis of the liver.  He watched his daughter, so full of life, yet so guarded like her mother was.

She had most of Pam's mannerisms, which amazed him, seeing as they never got to meet. The way she was so delicate, yet so spunky with him was something that amazed him every day. He'd see her little face and the way her eyes lit up, or her tiny chin pointed up at him defiantly when he denied her something. The way she called him Daddy, words that melted him ever since the first time she spoke them.  He loved her with everything he had in him, and he poured himself into creating this protective and stable life for her. Everything was about Amanda.

Tom walked up at that moment, pointing a spatula. "Hamburger or hot dog?"

Jim turned to him, before pouring out the contents of his beer bottle on the ground. "Steak."

"Please tell me you didn't just pour out the domestic beer I brought for us all to enjoy," Tom's eyebrow raised.

Jim  turned the bottle upside down. "Yep. I did. I just...I didn't want to drink...anymore. But seriously, I'd like my rib eye cooked medium well, rubbed and-"

"We do this every year. You can learn to cooperate, or you will starve," Tom said with a bit of authority, which only egged Jim on more.

"Threats, nice... tough words from the guy in the funny chef's hat and the ‘Emeril is my Homeboy' apron."

"Hamburger...or hot dog?"

"The poached salmon please," Jim smirked as Tom rolled his eyes and muttered "You'll eat a damn hot dog and you'll like it."

He felt at ease around his brothers, who had been so supportive of him throughout all of this.  Tom and Pete were usually dicks any other time, but they had learned to let Jim deal with the pain, learned to support him, to help him, to love him. Dinner went off without a hitch, memories were shared, updates, laughter. Jim really didn't participate like he used to, he felt like he had nothing new to contribute, and he didn't feel like racking his brain for memories. He just laughed at the appropriate times, and focused on Amanda shoving cut up pieces of hot dog in her mouth and the mustard smeared across her face.

After dinner, they all moved back to the deck or in the living room, Nancy offered to bathe Amanda and call Jim before it was time to put her bed. He sat on the back deck with his two brothers, listening to the sounds of the crickets.

Pete and Tom were mocking a few of their family that was out of earshot, and Jim just leaned back on against the bench and gave a small smile. He felt kind of peaceful for once, kind of human. Nothing would ever relieve his ache for Pam, but occasionally, he would feel like himself again. Maybe this weekend was a good idea after all. Amanda was having a great time, everyone was so happy to see them both. He started to feel relaxed, until...

"Jim, hey, so tomorrow, one of Nancy's friends, Becky, is going to come up and go out with us on the lake," Tom said, smiling from behind his beer can as he took a sip.

Jim nodded absently, wondering why that information was being shared with him. "Cool."

"She's a nice girl," Tom replied, wagging his eyebrows and smiling.

"Good to know," Jim stated and eyed his brother, hoping he wasn't trying to do what Jim thought he was trying to do.

"She works in Human Resources, a pretty nice girl. Never married. She's about your age. Brunette," his brother continued and Jim's eyes  scanned between Tom and Pete as he came to a realization.  "Pretty sexy, funny."

"Wait...Are you...trying to set me up?" Pete and Tom looked a little guilty as Jim sat straight up and leveled a menacing glare at them. "Well, are you?"

"Not ‘set up' per say, but I want you to meet her. Jim, it's just...it's been two years and-"

"What the hell?" Jim reacted, his face turning into a scowl.

"It's been two years, and I thought it'd be nice for you to make friends."

"Right, Pete, it's been just two years since my wife DIED. Not went on vacation. Not divorced, DIED. I can't believe you!" Jim ran his hands through his hair. The bitterness was again rising in his throat. "This is bullshit."

Jim's exclamation caught the attention of Larissa and several other family members, so his brothers tried to diffuse the situation. Tom swallowed, not knowing why his brother was having such a violent reaction. "She's a nice girl and I thought you'd get along."

"I'm not ready to date, man. You should have asked me."

"I'm sorry. I just thought...How long, Jim? How long do you think you can go alone?"

"Go alone? I have family. Meddling, out of order family, but I have you guys. I don't need anyone romantically. I have Amanda, and she deserves my full attention right now-"

Tom looked down at his beer and back up at his annoyed brother. " Jim, you know we all loved Pam. And in no way are we trying to replace her-"

"You can never replace her. No one can. So just quit trying to, all right? Of all the stupid things to do, you do this?!" Jim hissed out, infuriated. "Ambush me with this?"

"That's not what we were doing..." Pete muttered out but Jim's eyes silenced him.

Tom frowned. "How is it such a bad thing that we want you to move on and be happy? To find love again?"

Jim rocked back and forth, trying to ease his anger before looking at Tom. "Move on? Move on? HA!  I can barely move at all. As long as it takes me to not to feel like I'd be cheating every time a woman looks in my direction. Because that would be how I felt. It's not just unfair to me, its unfair to the woman you invited. Only I can say when and if I'm ready. I'm in love with my wife, on earth and in heaven. And as much as I know you mean well, you guys were dead wrong to do this."

Jim stood to walk inside, but Tom touched his arm. "Jim, look-"

Jim shook his head. His eyes were brimming in tears and he knew he was overreacting but he didn't get this. Pam wasn't some woman he cared for. He loved her, every cell in his body did. And two years without her doesn't erase that. And no one else in the world could ever compare to what she meant to him. Ever, he was certain of that.

"I'm not mad. I'm just...I need to go check on Amanda, and just...I'm not ready. I might never be. I can't...you don't get it because you've never lost the love of your life. Nancy's upstairs and she's here for you to hold and tell her you love her. I lost everything. I lost my soul mate. And for you guys to think that I could possibly move on from that...I can't."

Tom nodded and looked down defeated and ashamed. "I'm sorry, little bro. I was trying to help."

Jim tapped the heel on his palm on his own forehead, trying to get himself together before he went to see Amanda. She didn't need to see him upset. "It's...it's okay. You were just looking out. I get it. Good night."

And with that he slide the glass door open and went into the house.

"You do realize, once the baby is here, there will be no more of this?" she panted out, his hands rounding the slick skin on curve of her hips, and down her outer thigh.

He wasn't really listening to the words she was saying, but instead he focused on the sounds she was making as he touched her everywhere. Her body was changing so rapidly, and where there once was a flat taunt valley of muscle, now there was a rounded smooth belly. Jim spooned her from behind, her head tossed back, giving him direct access to her neck, which he lavished with great attention from his tongue. Something about Pam being pregnant with his baby made him even hornier than before, he literally couldn't get enough of her. Touching every part of her became more than a fantasy...it became a fetish, an obsession, and he barely made it through the day, waiting out for moments to touch her everywhere.

"We'll be so...tired," she whimpered out as he sucked on a patch of skin near her shoulder. She reached up and gently fisted his hair, tugging it. "Between bottles,  changing...and **gasp** burping..."

"We'll take vitamins. Sleep in shifts," he muttered, his hands traveling up to the soft mounds of her breasts, kneading them gently until his nimble fingers.

"They said I probably won't feel sexy after the baby born," she replied softly, and it sounded as if she believed or feared that might be true. "I'll still have baby weight and all that..."

Jim knew she read a lot of baby books lately, they both did and it became a chore to figure out all the myths and theories behind pregnancies and parenthood. She always got to this point, the self doubt, the concern over motherhood, and being his wife. It was something that endeared him and drove him mad, because of her lack of esteem. Deep down he wanted to declare that she would be the best mother ever, and she'll see once the baby was born. And everything he felt and wanted of her before would be stronger even after the baby was born. This was for life, as far as he was concerned.

Jim stopped his ministrations long enough to tilt her head, and whispered against her lips, "You are, without a doubt the sexiest pregnant woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"How many pregnant women do you meet?"

"Thousands. Mobs, really. All kinds," He smiled, pecking her lips. She leaned back against him and sighed contently.

He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. It was quiet times like this he enjoyed the most, the silent moments of listening to each other breathe, holding each other.  

"Shana?"

"No."

"Cooper?"

"Maybe..." he smiled into her hair.

"Lilith?"

"Seriously?"

"Well," she replied snorting, "You aren't giving any suggestions. This baby is going to be unnamed and teased mercilessly in school."

"I'll have Dwight teach them how to defend themselves."

"I wonder if it's a girl or a boy," she mused, as his hand ran down her hip and came to rest on the bump. Her hand laid over his. "What do you want?"

"For it to be mine. That's a big requirement," he laughed as her elbow hit his side as punishment. "Okay, okay...I just want it to be healthy. I have no preference."

"I want a girl," Pam said, turning to face him, her face hopeful and honest.

"Scarlet?" he asked, looking at her adoringly. "Oh I know...Beyonce Miley Jonas Halpert."

Pam s laughter echoed off the walls. "Kelly already suggested that! But more so for all the imaginary babies she's going to have with Ryan when they get back together again."

"Damn. She called dibs on the best name I had."

The were quiet for a moment again, sleep starting to overtake them as the sounds of the night traffic filtered into their room.

"Jim?"

His lids were heavy but he opened them to look at her. Pam turned towards him fully and wrapped her arms around him. "We're going to be awesome parents, aren't we?"

A lazy grin spread across his face and he tightened his hold on her. "Hell yeah."

Jim patted his pockets and realized, as with his wallet earlier, he now misplaced his keys. He was already late, which honestly he didn't care much about, considering this was a forced date he was conned into by Mark. After his initial meltdown about dating, Jim sort of softened towards the idea when his penis became generally frustrated with its lack of attention. He was only a man after all, human, and his urges were still there. However, he never took the date past dinner and a walk to the front step, because his heart would trump his penis and all he could think about was Pam and Amanda.

There had been three blind dates all together, none leading to a second or third date, and Jim was absolutely damn sure this one wouldn't go far either. As attractive as these women were, none of them could ever compare, and it was almost a ridiculous farce to believe that any of them would ever develop into anything. As far as he was concerned that would never happen.

Maybe he shouldn't go out at all, but part of him knew he had to get some kind of human interaction besides the office and family. He wondered sometimes if Pam saw him in heaven and hated him? Did she feel cheated on? Or did she see him struggling through this devastation blindly? He hoped to a high power she always knew there would never be anyone else for him. Ever. That he had pretty much faced the fact of staying single, focusing on raising their child, dying alone, and seeing her again finally when it was his turn.

He would be honest with each of the women, he would talk about his love story with Pam, and they would listen, mesmerized sometimes. And at the end, after he told them how she slipped so suddenly away from him, they would ask:

"Do you see yourself moving on?"

"How tragic. Do you ever think you can love again?"

Their eyes would hold hope of a future, the possibility of fixing him, of learning to mother his child. But Jim knew that his eyes said something different than theirs. There was no room for them in his heart. The answer would sit on his tongue, thick and honest, and he would  sip his wine, and with the deepest regret for wasting their time, answer, "No, I don‘t."

The mechanics of dating had fallen stale to Jim, and even though he dressed the part, and combed his hair and smiled through conversations, he never led them on. He wasn't that cruel. He would eventually discuss his loss, talk about the joys of Amanda, and simply shut down any implications that a relationship could become of the date. Maybe it was cruel actually.

But as for now, the missing car keys kept him from meeting Joanna, who was a friend of Mark's girlfriend and who was the owner of four Travis concert tickets. He had to go see her, if he wanted to see the band play, and well...he really did want to see Travis. Jim roamed around the house, checking various places he could have thrown his keys, when he heard a small clearing of Amanda's throat.

She stood coyly in the doorway, dressed in her princess pajamas, clutching her favorite Bratz doll, and eyeing him mischievously.  Her curly brown hair flowed down her back and her little painted toes (courtesy of Kelly) bounced her heels off the ground.

At that moment, she looked exactly like her mother, and he just wanted to skip whole thing and spend the evening at home with his little girl. Mark might be disappointed, but honestly Jim didn't give a shit. He'd have to pay his baby sitter Shannon for the night and take her home for wasting her time. For wasting everyone's time, really. He would never love any of these women. Not the right way. Not the way he loved before. He knew that. Nothing would change that. And looking into the eyes of his daughter he created with the only love of his life cemented that tonight, once again, and forever more, he would just be going through the motions.

But he didn't want to break plans. That was just rude. And he had an idea that even four year old Amanda knew where he was going, and what he was doing, and she was trying to save him from bullshitting through another pointless date by hiding his keys. Or maybe she was just being a four year old and just being silly.

Slowly a smile stretched across his face and he bent down to the level of the four year old.

"You have my keys, don't you?"

She just smiled even wider and he stepped to her, fingers ready for tickling. "You know, you're going to make me late. But not before I make you laugh!"

His fingers tickled her sides and she giggled and twisted away, until he heard his keys drop onto the floor of the living room.

"Ah ha!" he said triumphantly grabbing the keys, looking to smile at her. "Ready for bed?"

"Don't go, Daddy!" she exclaimed and threw herself into his arms, and he let her melt into him as he picked her small body off the ground and held her.

"I'll be back in a few hours. I promise. You know I'm never away from you for long."

He felt her bury her nose into his neck and he held her closer, a hand running over her small back.

"Why do you hafta go?"

"Because Uncle Mark and I really like the guys who sing these songs. But I promise, I'm coming straight home to you."

She leaned back and kissed the tip of his nose, smiling, and now he definitely didn't want to go. "I'm tired."

"I already knew that," he rubbed noses with her, not setting her down just yet.

"Daddy?"

"Yeppers?" he asked, carrying her into the living room to let Shannon put her bed.

"Are you tryin' to get a new mommy?"

Jim paused, and his heart sped up slightly at the question. Amanda knew all about Pam. Every morning and night, they both kissed her picture that was beside Amanda's bed and he often told Amanda stories about Pam. She spent plenty of time with Ellen and Ron, and knew her mommy wanted to meet her so much. But this never came up before. He looked at his little girl as she wiped her eyes and yawned, not realizing how serious her question was. Jim walked her over to the couch, and sat down with her in his lap. Fuck the concert. Mark would just have to be pissed.

"No, Daddy could never replace Mommy. She'll always be your mother. Even though she's not with us."

"But I need a mommy?"

"You have one."

"But she's gone!"

"I know. But I know she misses you. And I know she's watching over you like an angel. Remember I said Mommy was with the angels."

"She has wings."

"Yep, beautiful , beautiful wings. And she sees you getting so big and strong and....by the way, you're so adorable," he said, tickling her a bit.

She giggled and squirmed in his arms and then she leaned against him. The were both quiet for a moment, as Amanda got even sleepier as she laid against his chest. Shannon walked in to gather her for bed, but Jim waved the baby sitter off.  This is a moment he needed with her.

He barely heard the little girl whisper out, "My mommy's a pretty angel."

Jim leaned his cheek against the top of her head and sighed, "The absolute prettiest."

"At your service..."

"Mommy's in heaven? Can we see her?"

Jim nodded solemnly. "We will one day."

"But you hafta die?"

"Um...who told you that?" Jim choked. Someone in the office must have said that to her. He'd have to find to find out and give them a talking to. She was too little to have such deep thoughts.

"I don‘t wanna!"

"No, we won't. Not..." the sandwich got stuck in his throat. He sipped his water and coughed trying to regain his composure. Amanda watched him with wide eyes.

He thought to all those moments he wished death would take him to Pam. That if it was going to take her, it needed to take him. But then he thought about how horrible those thoughts were. That he would see Pam when it was his time, not a moment sooner, not a moment later. And his reunion with her will be what its meant to be. And he didn't want Amanda scared of it either. He felt horrible for all the times he wished for his own death because in his own selfishness, that wish would take him from his daughter. And as much as he missed Pam with every fiber in his being, he could never ever leave his daughter. Heaven, and Pam, could wait. They would have to.

"We'll see Mommy one day. But not anytime soon. And that's okay. Mommy knows we miss her."

Amanda smiled softly at him,  and chewed more of her sandwich. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's deer jerky?"

Jim paused in eating his sandwich when he remembered. Oh that's right, she spent time with Dwight today too. Way too much exposure for one day. Wow.

"Five years ago-" she was saying something. He should probably listen.

"Yes..."

"Shutup and let me talk!"

"Right now?" Jim lifted his head from sucking on that spot of her neck. He was a bit confused.

"Yes, right now!"

"Wait, you're serious?" He searched her face, as she rolled her eyes and lightly pushed him off.

"Yes!"

"I...can't?" Wood. Really. Now was not a good time.

"Roll over and let me sit up."

"How serious are you about finishing this story?"

"Jim..."

He rolled off his wife and sat up reluctantly against the headboard as she sat up as well turning on the light.

They were in the middle of...or so he thought, each whispering times they just wanted to rip each other's clothes off before. He thought the game was cute, dirty, flirty enough, but would end quickly once he actually DID rip off her clothes but Pam had other plans. Hormones were so weird.

Pam smiled, turning to him. "Okay, so five years ago...there was this one time you came to work in this gorgeous blue shirt and seriously the way your eyes popped in it just made me..."

"Horny? Me too. So let's do this."

"Jim, I am being serious."

He sat back again. "Okay."

"I wanted you so bad. But I messed it up," Pam's smiled dissolved into a small grimace. "And you were with Karen."

He frowned at the change in mood and leaned forward, taking her hand in his. "Hey. None of that matters now. I am with you. Forever and always. Even then."

"Oh I know. I just...."

"Don't even think about that again. It's me, you, and baby. Forever. Okay?"

"I know. It's silly. Look at me, mood killer."

He ran his hands in her hair. "Well... it wasn't as kinky as I hoped."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he replied, his lips finding her. "It's fine."

Sometimes he had to mentally chant that in his head, even when doing the most mundane things like laundry.

He was...able to get up in the morning (barely), tie his tie, do a pretty good French braid for Amanda, cook an egg, and drive to work.

He was....able to go to the mall and see couples holding hands and not want to run screaming to his car.

He was...functional.

And that's fine, right?

They were doing fine.

Life had gone on, no matter how unfair he thought it was, life, continued to move without Pam. Amanda was growing everyday and she was turning five soon, which amazed him. He had to hold himself together because she was such big girl, no longer able to safely fit in his arms. He told himself when he looked at her, that the sadness wasn't so bad, the loneliness wasn't all that important. When she smiled at him, he could smile back and that was enough for him.

He'd take her tiny hand and hold as they approach the edge of the lake and look out at the ducks and she'd squeal as they throw bread at the ducks. For a brief moment, he feels normal. He feels like he could simply look back over his shoulder and see Pam smiling and waving at them as they played with the ducks.

You're doing fine.

People always wondered how he was doing. They always saw Amanda and asked how everything was without saying her name. Without mentioning, "...you know, since Pam died." He would nod his head and mentally watch them torture themselves not to bring up Pam. He kind of dared them to. Maybe they were afraid of his reaction, regardless of the fact his answer was always "I'm doing well."

Well, maybe not that well.

Everything is fine.

That was bullshit. He had come to that conclusion the day he sat in the limo, bawling uncontrollably as they lowered Pam's casket into the ground, his family watching him concerned, it would never be fine. It will never be okay. There was no explanation for it and he didn't care for anyone to attempt to give him one. Jim recognized he had two selves.  Before Pam and After Pam. Before Pam, he hadn't experienced that kind of love and happiness, that kind of belief in a soul mate. After Pam, he knew nothing would ever measure up to what she had given him.  It wasn't fine. It wasn't that he wanted to die (anymore) or live in depression. No, that wasn't it. He just wanted to feel more. He wanted to feel the way he felt the day she stepped into his life. Amanda had given some of that back to him, but Amanda couldn't replace the different kind of love he had with Pam.

It'll all turn out fine.

He wasn't so sure.

He felt a push in his back and his eyes flew open, turning slowly to see Pam asleep on her side of the bed, drooling a bit, her belly pressed against his back. And then he felt it again.

The baby was kicking him. Wow.

Jim turned over completely, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and making out the features in his wife's face as the baby moved under his finger tips as he lightly laid his hand on her belly. She didn't stir. This was amazing. It was so National Geographic like, but amazing nevertheless. Almost as amazing as Pam's drooling and light snore. She was utterly exhausted lately over the smallest feat. Like earlier, she made her way down the drive way to the mail box only to come back and look completely winded.

He knew some might think watching their sleeping pregnant wife drool was a bit...creepy, but he didn't care. He loved this woman. Sometimes, it warranted watching her while she snored.

He wondered what the baby would look like. He wondered how much Pam would rock at being a mother. He wondered if he could be a good father.

A few years ago if someone told him he'd be married to this woman, and expecting a baby by her he would think of them as cruel and malicious to taunt him with his dreams. But yes, Jim Halpert, dreams do come true. Yes, he was cheesy.

Jim wondered after this one, how soon they could start on another one. Even for the practice. He was sure he wanted a whole litter of kids, all with curly brown hair and button noses. He could see them in five years, with their daughter running around, chasing her brother.

It's 2:30 in the morning and he should be sleeping. Instead he's fantasizing about making babies with Pam. Not such a bad thing.

Pam growled in her sleep, bringing him out of his reverie. She grabbed his hand and yanked his arm to wrap around her waist as she turned the other way. He laughed, snuggling in behind her, closing her eyes as he again laid his hand over her growing and kicking belly.

He couldn't wait. Everything would be perfect, everything would be fine.

She was five. That's all he could muster as he felt splashes of cold water hit his face, and strong hands hold his chin.

She was five.

Five years.

"Wake up, dammit," the gruff voice mutter and more water hit his face. "Jim! Wake up!"

He shook his head weakly, and turned it to the side, coughing and his throat felt like sand, dry, burning, harsh gulps of air. He shook his head again, and heard Tom's voice.

"Good, he's awake."

"Shit, Jim? Jim?" Pete was standing over him frowning. "Hey, can you stand? You need to stand."

The hand left his face and he felt out with his own and his palms wrapped around the edge of the cold porcelain sink. The bathroom light burned his eyes and he blinked again before leaning forward into the running faucet. Tom stood above him as he dry heaved and patted his back sympathetically.

Jim couldn't breathe. He couldn't catch his breath and he was confused to where and what was going on.

"Ok, can you move to your bed?" Tom's voice again. Jim nodded and his legs felt heavy as he plopped the few feet over to his unmade bed, slamming his lean body down and groaning. His brothers stood over him, with despondent faces. Judging faces.

"What the hell?" Jim sputtered and closed his eyes as Tom yanked open the curtains and let the blinding sunlight in.

"Yeah, I've been asking myself the same damn thing," Tom replied bitterly, walking back to stand near an irritated Pete. "So this is how you want to remember this day? Like this?"

Jim's mouth was dry and he licked his lips and rolled over to a slump with his feet on the floor. Dizziness hit him, but opened his eyes slowly and  squinted at them both. "What?"

"You drop Amanda off at my house two days ago and tell me you just need some time. You call me at 3 am and you're so fucking wasted you can't even talk without crying. You're still wearing the same clothes. You reek of alcohol. Come on, Jim! It's been five years, and you still want to do this?" Tom waved his hands around, angrily. "Pull yourself together, man!"

Five years. Pam was dead, for five years.

And no matter how much time had passed, it seemed like a grave injustice. And the feeling begin to hit him like a tidal wave, that apparently had been hitting him for the last few days, hell years, his wife was dead.  And he began to sob as he buried his head into the palms of his sweaty hands as Tom sat down beside him and rubbed his back.

"Two days ago?"

"Two fucking days," Pete spat out, his arms crossed.

Jim shook his head again. "No...I...it's only been a few hours maybe. Look...I'm sorry."

"Try again." Tom said, miffed. Jim grunted, and wiped at his face as Tom continued. "I can't even fathom how hard this has been for you and Amanda..."

"Amanda," Jim sighed, his little girl's smile flashing in his mind, breaking his already broken heart even more. "Is she...Oh my god..."

"She's fine, she's at the house, eating pancakes, watching cartoons, wearing her princess dress," Tom went to chuckle but cleared his throat. "She's asking for you."

"Jesus, what kind of father am I?" Jim frowned and he clapped his hands together, bringing the them to his forehead, trying to draw his emotions back in. "She gave me Amanda and look at what I-"

"Stop it. You're a great dad, she adores you. In fact, that's why we came over here. All she wants is her daddy. But not like this, Jimmy."

"No..." Jim whispered, as he rubbed his red eyes. "No, not like this."

He was sure it was partly the alcohol that made him feel so broken, but probably not. Every year, no matter what time of year, he felt broken, he just hid it better. But around Amanda's birthday and that...day...he couldn't...

"Jim, you've got to stop this. You have gone through so much. And you created a good life for Amanda in spite of it..." Pete started.

Jim cut his eyes at his brother, even though he knew his brothers were only trying to help. "A good life? You have no idea how hard it for me to do this..."

"I do. But you've been fine? Right? So far, you seemed okay.  Look bro, you can't keep going back to this dark place every year."

"Why?" Jim composed himself enough, a sob stuck in his throat as he gave Tom a steely glare. "I go through everything about that day in my head. Why didn't I see she was in pain? Why didn't I know? Why didn't she tell me? I wonder what *I* did wrong. Because Pam didn't do anything. She just...wanted to be a mother."

"Jim..." Tom said sadly, tears forming in his own eyes. "Stop."

"We did everything right. We didn't smoke. We didn't drink much. We wore our fucking seatbelts, for fuck's sake!" he shouted, his face red. Tom looked at the carpet. "I read all the pregnancy books and none of them said ‘Hey man, you might lose your wife to some un-fucking-believable condition that no one anticipates!' No one said that TO ME!"

He went to stand, wobbling. "I know, I know, everyone else can move on, can remember her and smile, but I remember her and my chest caves in. I see Amanda do something Pam would do and I don't think it's cute, it devastates me. But I must act like it doesn't or people will believe I'm being irrational. ‘Poor poor widower Jim!'"

"I didn't say that!" Tom frowned.

Jim pointed at him sternly. "You didn't have to. I see how you and everyone looks at me. Hell, I can't even say it's not true! It is. I am devastated. It's that simple. I. will.not.get.over.it. Can you imagine what it's like? Can you ever imagine?"

Tom shook his head. "No...I can't."

For four years, he was able to compose himself enough to celebrate Amanda's birth, the brightest spot in his life. And later, he would retreat into himself and have the breakdown he needed. But this year, he felt the darkness creeping up on him earlier, months earlier before Amanda's birthday as she began to ask about her party and what she wanted for her birthday.

It wasn't her fault. But in the back his mind, where the dark and angry rage lives, he felt it bubbling up. It was her fault. And then the whole part of him that was a father fought to beat that notion down to nothing.

Don't you ever blame her! She's the best thing that ever happened to you.

And that's where the sadness also lingered. What kind of father looks at his beautiful daughter and feels sad? What kind of man was he?

"I'm not supposed to be without her, Tom," he whispered, more composed now. "I remember that day, in this very room, you had to help me get dressed to watch them bury her. No one can fathom how empty  I felt, knowing that she was going back into the ground. I felt so much nothing. But everyday...every day after, I tried to put on a face for everyone because I felt as if I only had so much grieving time. I mean, it gets old right? It's been five years. Five.

"Jim...I...jesus" his brother choked on his own emotion. "I...don't know what to say."

"We're supposed to be here together, planning Amanda's birthday," he turned his head to look at his brothers. Both of them. His face, honest, and raw.

"But you still...Jim, you have to get yourself together for her party today. She can't see you like this."

"You're...right. She can't. Nope. I can't see me like this..." Jim replied, his voice raspy.

He never thought of himself as the kind of man who think such horrible unspeakable thoughts. Occasional thoughts of suicide, rage, bitterness, unrest all building in him, not getting better. Sure to everyone else, it had been five years, and he should have been able to regain some semblance of a life, but little did they understand without her, life was impossible. It was impossible to live a life that was supposed to, meant to, include her.  He remembered so much about the plans they made, the life they talked about. About Amanda, and other siblings that would never be, and the house, and a dog....all these beautiful and never existing images rushed his mind.

Five fucking years. She's been in the ground.

His brother was hesitant before saying. "Maybe you need some help. Like...talk to someone."

"Sure..." Jim said slowly, bitterly as he rubbed his palms on his dirty jeans before slapping his knees. "Maybe. I don't know. We'll see. But I have to get ready for my daughter's birthday party."

"Yeah, you should. It might help." Pete replied. "Promise me, you'll see someone."

Jim walked over to the bathroom and before he shut the door he replied with a sigh, "Maybe."