Disclaimer: I wrote this chapter on lined paper with my Dwight Schrute pen before I typed it up. That is all the ownership I will ever claim to have.

Of Jellybeans and Dollar Bills

Pam stood up from her chair, glancing back at the chair that used to be Jim’s. She made her way quickly out the door, replaying the pleasant parts of the conversation with Jim in her head. It was so good to hear his voice but at the same time it was a bit heartbreaking. Pam couldn’t help but recall how hurt she felt when Michael made the announcement that Jim had transferred. He walked in just before close that day to gather his things, without saying a single word to her.

She could remember the way he looked at her as he carried his belongings out the front door. He made eye contact with her for a brief moment, as if he wanted to say something. The look in his eyes nearly killed her. Pam knew that Jim hadn’t yet recovered from their discussion at the casino party, but she hadn’t anticipated seeing him like that. In that fleeting second of eye contact, she noticed the bags under his eyes and the exhausted look on his face. She had never seen him so unhappy. She recalled opening her mouth to say something, but before the words came out, he turned away, walking out the door for the last time.

It seemed like things went downhill from there. Pam watched in horror as Ryan took over Jim’s desk, rearranging all of Jim’s paperwork. She found herself giggling slightly as Ryan tried in vain to figure out Jim’s filing system, but it broke her heart when she realized that Ryan wouldn’t be putting them back in Jim’s preferred order. For a long time, she looked up from her desk, expecting Jim to be looking back and smiling. She had to get used to the idea that she would no longer need to set aside Jim’s favorite jelly beans or exchange Jim’s wrinkled dollar bills for crisper ones that would work in the vending machines. The plethora of blue jelly beans that sat in a Ziploc baggie in her desk and the abundance of pristine dollar bills in her wallet were constant reminders of how much she missed him.

As she drove home, something in her told her to reach for her phone again. Her thumb hovered over speed dial number two, threatening to push it and start another slightly awkward conversation. She let out a heavy sigh and placed it back in the cup holder in front of her as the stoplight turned green. Pam knew that she would take what she could get. A nice, pleasant, slightly awkward conversation with Jim was better than one ending in tears.

Pam arrived home, taking off her coat and tossing it on the arm of the couch. She placed her purse on the table, next to the plastic Blockbuster DVD box containing the non Sandra Bullock movie she had watched the night before. She picked it up and sat on the couch, popping the box open and closed as she tried to remember what day it was due. Her thoughts floated back to Jim and their earlier conversation before she finally let go of the box and walked into her kitchen.

She picked the phone up from the cradle on the counter and started to dial Jim’s number. She stopped for a moment, almost hesitating before she dialed the final number. Had Jim changed his cell phone number? His home phone number had definitely changed, she was positive of that. But a small part of her worried about how she would react if when she finished dialing, the voice on the other end wasn’t his.

The option of calling him was always there. Pam had started to a few times, mostly when something reminded her of him and she wanted to share it. Sometimes she’d get as close as the last four digits before hanging up and changing her mind. The idea of not getting Jim Halpert on the other line seemed all too final for her, and she wasn’t ready to take that chance.

Until now.

She pressed the last button and paced impatiently around her living room, listening to the ringing on the other end. Her heart beat faster and faster as she counted each ring. On the fourth ring, she jumped, startled to hear a voice on the other end.

“Beesly?”

She smiled for a moment, enjoying hearing the sound of her nickname once again. “Hey, Jim. Look, I, uh, wanted to call and uh…”

Pam paused, sitting on the couch as she searched for the words. Why was she calling, exactly? Other than to hear his voice and grasp at the remaining pieces of the friendship they used to have, that is. The silence got the better of her and she started talking once again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was shutting you out today. Ryan came back into the office, and he looked kind of upset. Then he started leaving, and I said goodbye, and I—”

She trailed off again, recalling where their earlier conversation went sour. She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit how much she missed Jim, at least not to him. She didn’t want to sound desperate or like she was faking it. She wanted to sound sincere and honest and open to more conversation.

“I didn’t want you to think that, you know, I didn’t want to talk to you,” she finally finished, breathing a silent sigh of relief when she got the words off her chest.

“Why would I think that?” he asked, using a tone that was almost too casual for Pam at this point in their relationship.

Why would he think that? It was a valid question, sure, but her mind couldn’t come up with any answers. The question lingered in her mind, though, and for whatever it was worth, she needed to put that to rest and start fresh. “I don’t know,” she said, moving the remote control out of her way. “It’s just that we haven’t talked in… forever, and I wouldn’t want you to feel like I didn’t… care?”

“Okay,” Jim replied hesitantly, almost as though he was waiting for more of an explanation from her.

She had no other explanation for him. At least not one that she was willing to admit quite yet. Not one that wouldn’t cause some sort of disagreement or argument or… rehashing of what happened the last time they spoke. Before the conversation at Dunder Mifflin, of course. But maybe admitting that she missed him was a good idea. Maybe it would make things less weird between them. Finally, she found the words in her head for how she was feeling.

“I just feel like I owed you more of a real conversation than we had earlier,” Pam started. “I mean, we talked and everything, but we didn’t really, uh, talk?”

“You do realize that you’re not making any sense, right, Beesly?” Jim teased.

Slightly frustrated and slightly amused, Pam put her head in her hand, rubbing her forehead and attempting to start over again. “Sorry,” she said. “Does this whole thing make sense to you?”

“This whole thing? What do you mean?”

“You leaving Scranton and us just… cutting off all communication?”

The tension in the conversation became more obvious as she heard Jim sigh on the other end. “No, I guess it doesn’t,” he admitted. “I guess I just wanted to give you space.”

“Space? What do you mean?”

Jim cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I figured maybe we both needed some space…”

Pam could hear pots and pans clanging in the background. He was probably attempting to cook himself some ravioli. He very rarely dug through his pots and pans unless he wanted ravioli. “Ravioli?” she asked, almost avoiding the topic they were approaching.

Jim laughed softly. “Stalker,” he teased in a low voice, sending a tingle down Pam’s spine. “How’d you know?”

“You only dig through your pots and pans for two reasons. Macaroni and cheese and ravioli. And you dug so deep that it made a really loud clangy sound. You wanted the bigger pot, which means ravioli. Bigger noodles.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Oh, my God,” Pam said, blushing as she tried not to laugh.

“We’re having a serious conversation, Pam, and you really felt the need to make an inappropriate sexual joke at such an inappropriate time?” he teased.

“I wasn’t the one who said ‘That’s what she said,’” Pam pointed out.

“You’re right. We should probably get back to the serious stuff.”

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“I just figured that after what we’d been through maybe we needed some time to think things out. At the time it seemed logical. Maybe it was the easy way out, but… it felt like it was the right thing to do, you know?”

Pam nodded, twisting the button on her pink pea coat that lay next to her on the couch. “Yeah. I mean… I know I said… and I know you, uh… were you ever going to call me?”

“Was I ever going to call you?”

“Yeah. How long did you think we needed to sort things out? How much space did you think we needed?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Pam was convinced that Jim had hung up the phone. But she heard the water running, so she stayed on the line, hoping he wouldn’t be angry at her inquiry. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “I wanted to call you. A lot, actually. I just… I wasn’t sure where we stood. And where you stood with Roy and… it just got easier after awhile to avoid it, I guess. I know that probably makes me sound like a terrible person.”

“That’s not so terrible,” Pam insisted. “I wanted to call you too. I kinda felt the same way, you know? At least with the idea that I wasn’t sure where you stood.”

“So, now would probably be a good time to know where we stand, so we don’t have to have these types of awkward and embarrassing conversations,” Jim suggested. “Where do you stand?”

“I miss you,” Pam blurted. “I know that sounds really dorky, and I’m sure that doesn’t help. I mean, when you kissed me in the office that night, it didn’t help things, but me telling you I miss you… that can’t make you do a click your heels together type of dance of joy. I just… when you left, I felt really hurt that you didn’t tell me you were leaving. You didn’t say anything, you just left. And I guess maybe I didn’t deserve it after what I did, but I still wanted some sort of explanation. I mean, I saw Ryan going through your files, trying to figure out how you had them set up, and when he couldn’t, I wanted to go to Stamford and find you, because it was almost like he was defiling your stuff. And that’s kind of ridiculous to think or to consider, because you left, and we weren’t really on good terms. But I still missed you, and it was still weird. And I still miss you now, and it’s still weird.” She stopped, realizing how much she had divulged in one breath. “So that’s where I stand.”

“It’s a pretty simple filing system,” Jim joked. “From least annoying client to most annoying client. It’s not difficult once you catch on.”

“Jim, please,” Pam said, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. She needed to know where he stood. She needed to know that someday, things could be set in stone between them, one way or another, so she could move on from living her life in limbo and figure out where to go from here.

“Pam,” he replied. “I miss you too. I just… I needed space, like I said. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And it’s been really great catching up with you. It’s weird to have to sit in my seat all day without a jelly belly break.”

“I have a bag of blue ones in my desk for you,” Pam interrupted.

“Wow, saving them for a rainy day?” he teased.

She sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just habit. I don’t let anyone have the blue ones but you.”

“But I’m not in Scranton anymore,” Jim pointed out.

Pam bit her lip. Of course he wasn’t in Scranton. That fact was painfully obvious. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if he were still in Scranton. To stop her mind from wandering even more, she turned her attention back to the conversation. “We can’t stay in one place with this conversation,” she said.

“There’s probably a reason for it. It’s not a great conversation to have.”

“I’m sorry,” Pam started, “I probably shouldn’t have called.”

“No, I’m glad you called. We probably needed to start to talk things through.”

“You think we could do that sometime?” Pam asked.

“I’d like that,” Jim agreed.

“It’s okay for me to call?”

“Yeah, absolutely, call anytime. I’m okay with that.”

“Okay. Well, I should return this movie. I think it’s due back by seven, and if I don’t get started now, they’re going to charge me a late fee on a movie I didn’t want in the first place,” Pam said, picking up the movie.

“Yeah, you should probably let someone who really wants to see it enjoy it.”

Pam giggled. “So, uh, I guess we can talk later?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Well, uh, it was nice talking to you, Jim, and I hope we can uh…”

“Pam?” Jim interjected.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll figure out where we stand eventually.”

“I’d like that,” Pam replied. “See ya.”

“Later, Beesly.”

With that, Pam hung up the phone. She slipped her coat on and grabbed her purse, walking out toward her car. She was definitely happy she called, but she was nervous about where the conversation ended up. It seemed so indefinite to her. It was like they were both staying as far away from the idea of seriously talking about their relationship as possible.

She’d give him a call in a few days if she didn’t hear from him she decided as she backed out of her parking space and started toward the nearest Blockbuster. She hoped that Jim’s promise of eventually would turn out to be sooner rather than later, because she wasn’t sure how much more waiting she could really handle.

To be continued...

Disclaimer: I almost bought the Office legal pads at Target yesterday. But I couldn't even afford those. Needless to say, if I can't afford paper, I can't afford anything relating to ownership of this show.



Of Herr's Chips and Lost Drivers

She wasn’t lying. At least not completely. It was hot in that gymnasium. She also had a sweater on. Between all that and the dancing she was doing, she was definitely burning up. It was just that she also knew that the hallway had better reception to send text messages.

The only gray area seemed to be whether she was telling the truth about the person she was texting. It wasn’t like Angela needed to know anyway. Sure, she sent a text to Jim. But a little part of her was also hoping for a telephone call. She initiated the last one, so it was his turn, right? Calling him made her look anxious, and that was… entirely true. But Jim would be the last person on Earth to know that.

Her text was short and simple. Funny story for you. Call when you can. It wasn’t overly formal, but it wasn’t overly friendly either. She fought the urge to use an emoticon, deciding that it would probably be best to keep it straightforward for now.

For the rest of the night, Pam held the phone in her hands, checking often to make sure her battery hadn’t died spontaneously or to see how many bars she had. Finally, she settled on putting the phone on vibrate and concentrating on the Diwali party until Jim called back.

After an almost kiss from Michael, and an excruciatingly long trip to drop him off at his condo, the temptation was becoming even greater to make the move all on her own. Regardless of where things left off with Jim, they were still friends. And she needed to talk to a friend like Jim after a night like this.

She turned the up higher on her phone and placed it in her cup holder as she started the drive to her apartment. Determined to forget about the phone call, Pam’s mind wandered from subject to subject.

Okay, think. Art. That’s a good subject. I need new charcoal pencils. Maybe I’ll go to AC Moore tomorrow. But they’re kind of expensive sometimes. Isn’t there a craft store in Dickson City? Do I want to go that far? What store is it? Maybe I got coupons in the newspaper flier. What store… what is it? That’s going to bug me now! Michael’s! That’s it! Michael’s. Oh, no, Michael. That was horrifying. I have to tell Jim—

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her mind was racing. She needed the radio. Or something to distract her. Stopping at the next red light, she popped open the center console and reached for the first CD she found. She opened the case and inserted the CD, tossing the case back in the console.

She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, turning the volume up so she could hear the music a little better. The light turned green and she got halfway through the intersection before her thoughts began to wander again.

I forgot where this CD went! I should organize the center console, see if there are any other good CDs in there. I need to be more organized with my CDs. I don’t know where half of them are. Ooh, I haven’t looked in that top drawer where I thought my DVDs were the other day. I really should start unpacking and cleaning my place. I still have so much junk in the closet in random boxes.

Pam pressed the ‘next’ button, curious as to what other songs were waiting for her on the CD she nearly forgot existed.

Who sings this song? Do I even know this song? It sounds familiar. I think I’ve heard it before. I obviously listened to the CD in the car before this, so I’ve most definitely heard it before. This sounds like a song that Jim—

It suddenly hit Pam. This was why the CD was buried in the console. Jim made it for her.

She let out a sigh and pressed the ‘eject’ button on her CD player. She was almost home; she could stand to be alone with her thoughts for a little while longer. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d manage. She reached over to roll down the window.

It’s hot in this car. I need to get my air conditioning fixed. Although it is almost winter. There’s really no point. Winter. I need a shovel. A new shovel to scrape off the stairs. Salt. Do I need to put down salt? Ugh, I so need a male opinion on this. I’m such a nerd. I’ve lived in Scranton all my life, I should know these things. Have I ever really paid any attention? What did Roy use? Jim would know—

Great. Here we go again. Do not call him. Let him be.

At that moment, Pam arrived at her apartment. She quickly put the car in park, grabbed her purse, and went inside. She plopped herself unceremoniously on the couch, reaching for the remote to find some mindless TV to watch so she wouldn’t have to think about what was going on. After a few Friends reruns, and several internal battles of whether or not to check her phone, Pam turned her phone on silent and placed it on her night table. It was time to give up for the night.

She took a shower and crawled into bed, trying to get comfortable as her thoughts ran wild once again. Pam tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she finally started to drift off to sleep. She was barely awake when she saw the light from her phone flash. Without lifting her head from the pillow, she opened her eyes to check the caller ID.

Jim Cell.

Quickly, Pam opened the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Beeeeeeeslyyyyyy,” Jim moaned in response. “Oh, shit. I feel dizzy.”

Pam raised her eyebrows. “Jim? Are you okay?”

“Okay, sitting up wasn’t so smart. You there, Beesly? Ugh, my head hurts. I can’t really hear you.”

“What happened? Jim, are you okay?” Pam asked, concerned.

“I’m so drunk,” Jim mumbled.

The worry she had for Jim lessened as she listened to him trying to hold back a fit of laughter. Pam heard a muffled voice on the other end, having a conversation with Jim. “Jim? You there?” she asked, making sure she had his attention.

“Yeah, sorry. I got your text, Beesly, I didn’t read it though. I just figured I’d call you back.” He paused for a moment before giving vague directions to someone who was with him.

Pam shifted uncomfortably in her bed. “Who are you talking to?”

“Who am I talking to? That’s Karen. She’s driving me home. She got us lost. Er, maybe I did.” He paused for a moment to shout ‘it’s Pam’ to Karen, before returning his attention to his phone. “We turned out of the parking lot and I told her to make a left. But what I really meant was to take a right. So I sat up and looked around, and I said ‘What are you doing?’ and she said ‘Taking you home’. Then I said ‘But that’s not where I live!’”

“Karen?” Pam asked, sitting up and turning on the lamp that sat on her bedside table. “Who’s Karen?”

“Karen sits behind me. She likes Herr’s chips. The other day, she was supposed to be working…” he paused for a moment, laughing as he shouted to Karen again. “No, Karen. Take a right. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten us pulled over yet.”

Pam strained to hear Karen’s response. She heard something about not being drunk, Andy, shots and the trash can, but the main message was garbled. “Jim?”

“You still there, Beesly?”

Pam sighed, realizing that she was losing her patience. She was trying to get an idea of who this Karen person was. She felt a little twinge of jealousy in the pit of her stomach, but brushed it off. After all, she didn’t know who Karen was, so there wasn’t any use in being jealous. It was jumping the gun. He was also in Stamford, and it wasn’t like she owned him. She shook her head, focusing in on Jim once again. “Yeah, I’m still here. You said Karen sits behind you. Does she work with you in Stamford?” she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“Yeah, she does. Oh, right, I was telling you about the chips!” he said with a low chuckle. “So Josh asked Karen to do something, and he told me to make sure she was doing whatever she was supposed to. She got mad…”

Pam heard a distinct “I was not mad,” on the other end.

“You were pissed. The look you gave me at the vending machine was a classic Karen Filipelli death glare. Ow! Don’t turn that fast, I hit my head on the door. Pam?”

“I’m still here,” Pam said, picking at the corner of her comforter, only half listening now.

Jim let out another yelp in pain. “Are you trying to kill me?” he moaned. “Oh, crap, I forget what I was talking to you about.”

“The chips,” Pam replied tersely.

“Oh, yeah,” Jim said, drawing out the last syllable of each word. “So I pretended to be a guy from a store when I called looking for her chips. We couldn’t find them anywhere. Karen called Canada. I didn’t know she could speak French.”

“Why is Karen driving you home? And why are you so drunk?” She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answers to those questions. He sounded very comfortable around Karen. Sure, he was drunk, but if he’d had experiences like the search for the elusive chips, they had to get along at least a little.

“Oh, we were doing some work stuff and we had to stay late. Andy brought alcohol. Anyway, I brought my bike into work today. Josh rides his bike to work. I was all sweaty. Whatever. So I didn’t bring my car, and I didn’t want to sleep on the twin bed with Andy,” Jim explained.

“Okay, Jim, you’re totally confusing me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jim snorted. “I’m peachy keen. So what did you text about?”

Pam was unsure whether she should be angry, jealous, upset, or worried. Or a combination of all three. “Um, I think this is a conversation we should save for when you’re sober.”

“I’ll sober up pretty fast. Karen, what the hell is on your ceiling? Do you call the top part of the car a ceiling? The roof?”

“Are you talking to me or Karen?” Pam asked, her tone becoming less patient and more frustrated.

“Both,” Jim replied.

“Maybe I should talk to you later,” Pam suggested.

“No, no, it’s okay, I’m listening.”

“Will you even remember this tomorrow?” she countered.

“Bits and pieces,” he laughed, lowering his voice.

Pam heard the slamming of the car door on the other end. She listened as Karen tried to assist Jim in the process of exiting her car. She only heard chunks of the conversation, but she could clearly hear giggling from Karen and drunken laughs from Jim. “Jim? Are you there?” she asked once again.

“Hang on, Pam, I can’t talk and walk at the same time,” Jim slurred.

“Okay, Jim, I know you’re drunk, but you can’t lean on me like that or I’m going to fall,” Karen said with a laugh.

Pam shook her head. “Okay, Jim, I have to go.” She hadn’t felt this frustrated or angry in a long time. It was almost as though she could feel the abrupt change in her mood. Her shoulders were tense, her head was starting to hurt, and she was balling the sheets up in her fist.

“Okay. We’ll talk soon,” Jim said, not bothering to wait for an answer before asking Karen to assist him in putting his phone in his messenger bag.

Jim’s request was the last thing Pam heard before hanging up the cell phone. She slid the phone across her night table, watching it skid across the surface and fall to the carpet below. She jerked the chain on the lamp beside her and threw herself down onto the pillows, turning over to the other side.

Her heart was beating faster now, and she was wide awake. She slid her hand underneath the pillow behind her head and crunched it up, grabbing the top part with her hand. She wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation in her head for awhile.

She’d seen Jim drunk once. It was after a night at Poor Richard’s with their co-workers. They hadn’t known each other long. It was the night Pam told Jim she was engaged to Roy. The more she thought about it, the better she was able to put two and two together and link up the series of events. As guilty as she felt about it, she was amused by drunken Jim.

Drunk Jim wasn’t all that different from normal Jim. He was a little more happy go lucky, a little less steady on his feet, and a little less cynical. But for the most part, he was still Jim. He wasn’t a stupid drunk, or a violent drunk. He was just… funny. Something about the way he was able to let loose in front of his co-workers and not completely embarrass himself was intriguing to her.

She turned onto her back and put her feet flat on the mattress, allowing her knees to make two mountains under the sheets. If she was going to get any sleep tonight, it was time for her to get comfortable and clear her mind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

If drunk Jim is basically like normal Jim… no. That’s not fair, I wasn’t there. I can’t judge how he feels about her by snippets of a drunken conversation.

It was then that Pam realized that the teasing tone Jim used in his banter with Karen was strikingly similar to the tone he used to use with her.

to be continued