Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended




Jim Halpert sat in the back of the classroom with a dozen other fathers, his knees bent up awkwardly in front of his chest. Apparently, first grade rooms only had chairs that fit first graders, and as a result, he was pretty sure he looked like some sort of strange grasshopper. But the uncomfortable seating wasn't the reason for his fidgeting.

One knee bobbed rapidly, and he repeatedly adjusted the plain blue tie he wore over his blue dress shirt. This is ridiculous he thought to himself, but the moisture he felt on his upper lip was real. He should not feel this way before talking to first graders. But there Jenny Greer’s dad stood in front of the class in bona fide firefighters gear, complete with a big hard yellow hat. And the entire class gazed upon him in wide eyed and open admiration. So, yes, he was nervous.

As Mr. Greer concluded his brief talk on what he did for a living, Jim’s stomach did an actual flipflop. Oh, so this guy runs into buildings to save small children and puppies? No big deal, kids. I sell paper. Jim levered himself up out of the tiny chair, certain that now it was his alphabetic misfortune to follow the firefighter.

Mrs. Avery, the teacher, thanked Mr. Greer and as the children clapped enthusiastically, Jim straightened his tie one more time, awaiting his introduction. That was when the unthinkable happened.

“Please sit quietly children, while I call in our next father from the hall. He has a special surprise for us.”

The children, who not two minutes ago had been in awe of the fireman, were now focused on a tall, smiling man who appeared in the front doorway. He was clad in khaki from head to toe, and he was pulling a rolling metal cart full of cages with one arm. On his other shoulder sat an enormous blue and gold macaw. As if this wasn’t enough, a tiny goatlike creature walked behind the cart, tethered to its handle.

Jim sank slowly back down into his undersized chair as the man began, “Hi. I’m Dr. Hacker, I’m Hannah’s dad and I’m a veterinarian at Claws and Paws.” Claws and Paws was the Scranton wild animal park – their version of a zoo. This, Jim decided, was simply not fair. He watched in misery as the children got to pet the minigoat thing and touch the snake’s scaly hide. He listened to their squeals of delight as the macaw repeated, “Pete’s an awesome bird. Pete’s an awesome bird.” Jim dropped his head and stared down into his tote at the origami animals Pam had folded for him.

He’d been grumping around the house last night, wondering how he was going to make selling paper exciting to six year olds, when Pam had offered to help. He was grateful for her origami idea, and prior to the last two dads’ presentations, he’d figured he had a fighting chance at distinguishing himself in front of his daughter’s class.

Ironically, the origami parrot was sitting right there on top in his tote, silently mocking him. Stupid paper salesman. Stupid paper salesman He swiped a hand over his face and let out a deep, defeated sigh. So loud that the dad next to him actually nodded his head in commiseration.

Face it Halpert – what you do all day is boring. You used to know that, he silently chastised himself.

The uproarious cheering and applause for Dr. Hacker startled Jim up and out of his chair, and as the Croc Hunter of Scranton exited with his menagerie, Mrs. Avery’s eyes fell upon Jim. He imagined he saw a tinge of pity in her smile as she announced, “And next we have CeCe Halpert’s father – please welcome Mr. Halpert, children.”

He took a deep breath, walked briskly up front and gave it his best shot. It wasn’t a complete disaster. Three of the boys were interested in the paper airplanes. There were only a couple of kids he lost entirely, and a few who whispered intermittently while he spoke. He glanced frequently at CeCe, who at least didn’t look embarrassed, and thankfully gave him her full attention.

She was so…perfect…his daughter. Cute, bright, funny. He had the best little girl in the universe, and he’d wanted so much to charm her class and make her proud of him. Instead, he’d gotten a reality check and painful reminder that he’d never been much of a go getter, career wise. As he returned to the back of the room to polite “Mrs. Avery warned us to clap for everybody” applause, he noticed several of the other dads looking morose as well. He wasn’t the only one who’d been badly outdone today.

Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better at all.

Eventually all the fathers had taken their turns and were dismissed with thanks from the teacher and lots of applause from the children. He walked out to the car with CeCe’s friend Caroline’s father – he was a tax accountant. Neither of them said a word, but they shook hands before getting into their cars, eyes meeting in shared acknowledgement of humiliation.

Jim took his time getting back to Dunder Mifflin, driving around stewing and fretting, and by the time he got to work, Pam was gone for the day. Since Daniel was born three years ago, she’d only worked mornings. It was great for the kids, but it sure made his afternoons longer, and he wished she was going to be at work with him this afternoon in particular.

You know, on second thought, he decided it was best she wasn’t. She was surely happier at home with the kids rather than spending time consoling a two bit boring paper salesman. Dwight was insufferable all afternoon, and by the time five o’clock rolled around, Jim was in a funk of epic proportions. He snapped goodbyes to his colleagues as he left, leaving them with puzzled stares, and then climbed into his Outback and slammed the door closed.

He hesitated before he turned the key. For the first time in his life, Jim Halpert dreaded going home.






.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.




Jim walked in the front door to…nothing. His declaration of “I’m home!” echoed through the quiet house. He glanced in the kitchen and saw pots simmering on the stove - but no Pam, no kids - so he continued on to the family room. He sat the tote on the corner desk where it promptly tipped over, spilling a flock of paper animals onto the desktop. Jim looked around. Nobody here either. Maybe his children had decided to go live with a less boring, better dad, he brooded.

As he lifted his messenger bag from his shoulder, he heard muted sounds from the laundry room and then a loud ”twhack!”

“Pam?!”

“Yeah, in here, the laundry!”

On his way to the laundry room, he heard, “Crap!” and then another “twhack.” He made it to the door just in time to see Pam hitting the dryer door with the heel of her hand. After administering one more blow, she immediately punched the button on the control panel, and the machine lurched to life, tumbling the laundry round and round.

“What are you doing?”

“Darn door isn’t making a good connection. You gotta to smack it.” Pam pulled a stray wisp of hair from her face, lifted her chin triumphantly, and flashed a satisfied smile.

“Why don’t we just..um..call somebody and get it fixed?” he asked, placing a hand on the door frame above.

“Didn’t we agree that we’d try to put off expenses so maybe we can actually get to the beach with the kids this summer?” The wisp of hair fell back over her face but this time she just pursed her lips and blew it to one side.

“Yeah, we did, but…”

“Besides,” she interrupted, “I don’t think they can fix it and we’ll just be out a lot of money for a new dryer.” Now she lowered her chin as if to look over glasses that weren’t there. “Instead. Whap!” she said, delivering an imaginary blow into the air and grinning. God she was cute, he thought in spite of his mood.

“So, how’d it go?” Pam asked, and walked abruptly past him toward the kitchen. “Can we talk on the move, I have stuff on the stove – dinner’s almost ready.” She continued without waiting for him to answer. “Must have gone okay, because the kids have been out back for a couple of hours playing ‘zoo.’ You must really have sold those paper animals,” she said as she shot him an admiring glance.

Oh no. Does she think it’s from the paper animals? he groaned to himself. Better clear this up right now. “Pam, they’re…” But before he could tell her the unfortunate truth, their conversation was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream from the backyard.

Pam glanced quickly toward the simmering pots and Jim took his cue – “Got it” he said, and quickly disappeared out the back door. In a few minutes, he appeared in the kitchen toting Daniel with one arm, his little cheeks still red and wet from crying. CeCe gripped her dad’s other hand possessively.

“You okay, big guy? “ Pam asked. Daniel drug his sleeve across his face to wipe his nose and nodded, still sniffling. “Dinner’s ready,” Pam said, adding for Daniel’s benefit. “We’re having macaroni and cheese! Your favorite.” His eyes brightened immediately and he wiggled down out of Jim’s grasp to the floor, heading to the table at a run.

“Hey, walk - walk young man,” cautioned Jim, but Daniel was already climbing into his booster chair. Jim turned back to Pam. “I rescued the dog from the playhouse,” he said wryly.

“He was our wolf,” corrected CeCe, and then continued, “Daddy, Mommy said I couldn’t have any Verona Arizona tennis shoes because they cost too much, but I really want them. Hannah has some. So does Grace. Please!”

“They’re twice the price of the regular ones,” Pam explained, “ and the only difference is the name stamped on them, Cecelia.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, maybe we could swing it, sweetie. We’ll see,” Jim contradicted his wife, earning him an angry glare that promised they’d talk about THIS later.

“What was the problem out back?” asked Pam, changing the subject for now. She filled the kids’ glasses with milk as Jim and CeCe took their chairs.

“CeCe said I was a monkey and I had to be in a cage,” accused an incensed Daniel, scrunching his nose at his sister.

CeCe’s head tiled back matter-of-factly, and she stated coolly, “Well, he was acting like one.” Sometimes his little girl was seven going on thirty seven, or so it seemed to Jim.

“Enough, you two!” Pam said decisively, and sat down at her own place. “Let’s eat.” She started the bowl of peas around the table.

“So how did the presentations go at school?” Pam directed the question to CeCe as Jim helped her spoon peas onto her plate. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you after school because Daniel cried all the way home.” Pam turned briefly to Daniel to say, “I know that booboo hurt, sweetie,” and then turned back to her daughter, “You and Anne were so busy talking. I guess Daddy was a big hit, eh?” she added, clearly expecting CeCe to gush about her father.

Jim’s heart sank. Yup, Pam definitely assumed that his presentation had prompted the kids’ new interest in zoo animals. Could his day slide any farther downhill?

CeCe forced a smile and said, “Dad was great!” She would not be getting an Oscar any time soon, Jim thought. She was trying to spare his feelings, which on one hand was very sweet, but on the other hand…well…

Pam had always been good at reading him, and now she was clearly aware that all was not as she had imagined. She frowned and turned her head slightly to the side, but said nothing, waiting for more explanation.

Time to get it over with. “Hannah’s dad is a veterinarian at Claws and Paws, didya know that, Pam?” Bitterness crept into his chortle. “He brought rabbits and snakes and some kind of a goat thing…”

“A baby ibex” CeCe corrected.

“Sorry, an ibex. And a macaw. That talked,” he emphasized.

Pam’s demeanor softened as she took in this news, but the well intentioned pity he saw in her eyes only made it worse. Pam must have sensed this, because she quickly turned to help Daniel’s plate with the mac and cheese.

“Nooooo!” the three year old protested loudly.

“What, Daniel? It’s mac and cheese,” she said, bewildered at this outburst.

“It’s the squiggawy kind. I want the other kind. I don’t wike this kind, “ he started to cry again.

Pam shrugged at Jim. “It’s the Rite Aid brand – it was cheaper.”

“I don’t wi-i-i-i-ke it!” he wailed, and tried to push the bowl away.

“Really, Pam, “ Jim scolded. “Surely we can afford a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.” He wondered at his own harshness even as the words left his mouth, but somehow not being able to provide your toddler son the kind of mac and cheese he wanted was the last straw in his humiliating day.

His wife did not take this well. “Jim, we agreed,” Pam retorted huffily, “ to save money on stuff like this.” She was obviously trying not to cause a scene in front of the kids, but her brow was furrowed in that…that mad way. “Here Daniel, you like hot dogs, have one of these.” She successfully quieted his protests by giving him the entire squeeze bottle of ketchup so he could “do it himself,” and then she attempted to get the dinner conversation back on track.

“Well, CeCe, tell us about the presentations then,” Pam said, shooting Jim a warning look not to intervene this time. Don’t worry Pam, Jim thought as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms sullenly. I’ll just sit here and be useless. I can’t seem to do anything right anyway. On some level he knew he was being petulant, but right now he couldn’t control his own childish reactions.

Their seven year old proceeded to give an amazingly accurate rundown of all the presentations, and Jim’s awe and pride in his daughter almost pulled a smile from him. Almost. He took some comfort in her description of his presentation as “interesting,” but it was obvious that the vet stole the show. She ended her summation with “Thanks for coming, Dad.” That should be worth something, right? Jim stuffed a forkful of macaroni into his mouth. Daniel was right - the RiteAid brand wasn’t very good.

The meal conversation progressed to other things and soon the kids asked to be excused. They were allowed a half hour of cartoons in the evening, and they scampered off together to the family room to watch, their pre-dinner squabbles long forgotten.

When they were gone, Jim stared down at his half eaten plate of food. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he was. For snapping at her, for contradicting her statements to the kids, for…being such a disappointment. He toyed with the uneaten macaroni on his plate with his fork. For a lot of things.

“It’s okay, hon, I get it now,” she said sympathetically. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Nobody could compete with live animals.”

“Let’s face it Pam, I have a boring job.” He began to line up the spirals of macaroni end to end around the edge of his plate.

“Maybe so, but your children adore you.”

“Right,” he agreed sarcastically as he herded the peas into the semicircle of macaroni pieces.

“Oh Jim, you know they do.”

He lifted his head to look at her and smiled a melancholy half smile. If anybody could make him feel better it was Pam. But tonight, her words weren’t quite enough.

“Hey, I’ll clean up tonight. You go watch cartoons with the kids.”

Jim sat, unmoving, so Pam walked over and gave him a gentle nudge. “Go on,” she nodded toward the family room.

He slowly rose and shuffled into the other room, shoulders drooped. He took a seat on the couch between Daniel and CeCe, and they immediately snuggled into either side of him. He didn’t see the tears well in Pam’s eyes as she paused in the door, watching for a moment before returning to the kitchen.

forty five minutes later

“Horrible, hairy hogs hurrying homewards on heavily harnesses horses,” Jim read, emphasizing the “h” sounds . The kids were curled on either side of him, focused intently on the book in his lap – Animalia. He looked up as Pam entered the room. “All done?" he asked her. "Heard you working on that dryer again.”

She nodded and looked pointedly at each child, and then at him. He nodded back, smiling begrudgingly.

“Daddy, this is the page where we belong.”

“What CeCe?” Jim turned his full attention back to his children. Pam was right, he guessed. They did seem to enjoy his company.

“Halperts. We belong on this page. We’re all Halperts.”

He chuckled. “Right, I guess we do.” The impulse to ask suddenly overwhelmed him. “It would be really cool to have a veterinarian for a dad, wouldn’t it?” he ventured the question.

“I guess.”

“I bet Hannah has a really cool time with her dad.”

“Not really,” she answered, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

Daniel’s voice interrupted, “Daddy, I found aww these. Nest page!” he demanded.

“OK.” Jim flipped the page and read the “I’s” in a high falsetto voice. “Ingenious iguanas improvising an intricate impromptu on impossibly impractical instruments.” Both children giggled.

Jim switched back to his normal voice and pressed CeCe with a “Why not?” while Daniel rattled off things he saw on the page.

“Hannah doesn’t see her dad much.”

“Why’s that?”

“She mostly lives with her mom and she only lives with her dad and her dad’s new wife every other weekend. Her real mom hates his new wife and they’re always yelling at each other.”

“Um.” Wow. He had not anticipated this answer.

“I’m glad you and mommy still love each other,” she added, snuggling a little closer.

“Me, too.” Jim murmured.

“Ice cream, there’s ice cream!” Daniel exclaimed – he seemed oblivious to Jim and CeCe’s conversation. He pointed to the tiny cone in the intricate drawing.

CeCe ignored her brother. “I like that you read us books every night. Animals are cool, but I don’t care what you do when you’re at work ‘cause I’m not there. I like that you play with us every day and that you coach my tee ball team and you’re funny.” CeCe hugged his arm. “You’re the best dad ever.”

Jim closed his eyes and felt a warm glow course through his entire body. When he opened them, he saw Pam smiling at him from across the room. ‘I told you so,’ her expression mocked him. And she had, he conceded with a nod.

“Thanks, CeCe. You’re the best daughter ever,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss over the top of her head.

At this point, it became apparent that Daniel had been taking in their dialogue after all. Not to be outdone, he boasted in that piercing three year old voice, “I want to be just like you, Daddy.” Jim smiled, but Daniel wasn’t through. “I don’t want to be anybody ‘portant,” the little boy stated confidently.

The child’s statement hung in the air for a long moment, allowing its gravity to settle heavily upon Jim. The warmth he’d felt only seconds ago turned to an ache. He could feel Pam’s eyes on him, but he continued to stare down at the book.

“Next page!” Daniel prompted, oblivious to the effect his words had on his dad.

Jim turned the page and began reading, his voice wooden. “Jovial jackals…” Though he knew she was still there, he couldn’t make himself look up at Pam.

Somewhere about the “P’s”, he heard her walk out of the room.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Big "Tanks" to Vampiric Blood and her magic red pen.







Later that evening

Jim pulled the quilt up over his son, tucking it gently under his chin. “Good night, Daniel, he said softly.

As the boy’s heavy eyelids dropped shut, he murmured, “Nite, Daddy.”

Jim flipped off the light and made his way out of the darkened room, pausing at the door to look back at his sleeping son. If he had to pick the favorite moments of his day, this would definitely be in the top three. There was something so satisfying about seeing your child drift off to sleep, happy and secure. He savored the sight for a few more seconds - he knew this wouldn’t last. Already Cece often chose to continue reading on her own for a few minutes after she’d been tucked in. His little girl was growing up, and soon, so would Daniel.

As if on cue, Cece came bouncing down the hall from the bathroom, dressed in her favorite fuzzy green pajamas, her damp curls flopping wildly. She took one look at Jim closing Daniel’s door and screeched down the stairs, “Mom!”

He and Pam alternated getting the kids to bed – the bath, the reading, the tuck in – and tonight it had been Jim’s turn for Daniel. Consequently, it was Pam’s turn to read to Cece, who had recently decided she could take her own baths. They heard Pam’s footsteps on the stairs, and Jim stooped down to give his little girl a hug. “Night, punkin’.”

“G’night, Daddy,” she cooed. He loved that grin with both front teeth missing. “Thanks for coming to school today,” she added, more seriously.

Mrs. Avery was a good teacher, he mused. He could picture her standing in front of the class this afternoon, wagging her finger, reminding the kids to “be sure and thank your dad for coming in to talk today.” It was nice to hear though, he admitted, and he accepted his role in the game. “You’re welcome, sweetie. It was fun.” And this is how we teach our children to lie…he observed to himself.


Just then, Pam arrived at the stop of the stairs and his two favorite girls disappeared into Cece’s room.

Jim ambled downstairs to complete his duties – whoever put Daniel to bed was supposed to put the dog in the garage for the night. Pam had turned off the first floor lights, but the moon was nearly full, and he could see well enough to avoid the stray toys on the floor. He made his way to the back door where the dog sat, waiting patiently, flopping his tail. The pooch trotted willingly into the garage, and Jim gave his head a little pat, “Good boy, Matic.”

Jim returned to the house through the back door, and as he pulled it to, he automatically lifted it slightly so it would lock. He shook his head – he’d been lifting this door up for twenty years. And man, he recalled, had his mother ever hated this door.

Jim’s thoughts travelled back to when he was ten or so. Their old wooden back door had warped beyond repair, and needed to be replaced. His dad had insisted on doing it himself - over his mother’s protests - because he said it was cheaper. And so his dad had installed the door. But it had never closed quite right and had to be lifted to lock properly ever since the first day it was put in.

One evening shortly after his dad hung the new door, Jim had happened into the room, only to find his mother sitting on the floor with her back against the door. Her head was bowed, but he could tell she was crying. She immediately jumped up and tried to cover the fact that she was upset, drying her eyes quickly, but she knew he’d seen her. Jim had innocently asked his mother what was the matter.

She’d looked at him and hesitated, but ultimately told him the truth. “Jimmy, I hate this door. It’s…hard to lock…and cheap..and…” Then she’d sniffled loudly and let it all out. “I wish your dad had taken that job in Philadelphia last month. I know Tom and Pete didn’t want to change schools, but it was a good job, and meant so much more money, and then maybe we would have…” she gave the door a hateful little kick ”…a back door that works.”

Jim had just stood there, shocked and silent. He’d never seen his mother like that - she was perpetually upbeat, cheerful, and...in control. She’d composed herself quickly after her outburst, and proceeded to pull the door upward and lock it. Afterward, she turned back to him, looking more like the mom he knew, and said, “Not a word of this to your father. He works hard and does his best for all of us. I’m just having a bad day, sweetie. Our secret?” She’d crossed her heart, and motioned for him to take the oath.

He’d nodded and crossed his heart. And he’d kept his word. He’d never told a soul. But now it made him curious about what other things his mother might have been unhappy with. Which led him to the nagging question: Did Pam ever have similar feelings that she kept to herself?

Pam would be with CeCe a while longer, so Jim pondered these questions as he meandered through the rooms of their house. The moonlight cast strange shadows, making his familiar little world seem foreign and new. Overhead he heard the murmur of Pam’s voice. He couldn’t make out which book she was reading.

They had always made reading a priority with the kids. In a parenting book they’d bought, the author had championed the importance of reading to your children, and also the importance of having your kids see you read. “Kids learn more from what you do, than by what you say,” was the message. Children learn by example, he’d stressed over and over. Yes, they do, Jim thought, as he entered the family room.

He plopped down heavily into the desk chair, deep in introspection. Is that what I learned from my dad? he contemplated. Family is more important than your job. Did I learn it too well? Is that why I’ve never included a career in my dreams?

He was so absorbed in his reflections, sitting there in the moonlit room, that he didn’t hear Pam walk up behind him.

“Jim?” her voice startled him and he jumped slightly.

“Um..hmm.” he replied, without looking at her.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was sincere and concerned. She didn’t mention Daniel’s comments, but Jim knew what she was thinking.

“Yeah, I’m fine, “ he nodded quietly, still not turning to face her. “Just doing a little thinking.”

“Come to bed?” she asked, putting her hand lightly on his shoulder.

“A little later,” he said simply. He knew she was tired. “You go ahead.”

“Jim…” her voice trailed off.

“I’m okay.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, faking a reassuring smile. “Go on - I’m going to stay up for a little while.”

“I love you, “ she said, but there was defeat in her voice. She couldn’t make this better and she knew it.

He focused on the paper animals Pam had created for the presentation - they were scattered on the desk in front of him, spilling out of the overturned tote. “Love you, too, Pam,” he answered in a whisper. “G’night.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then moved softly toward the stairs.

He stared at the animals for a long time – he wasn’t sure how long – and thought. Will my lack of ambition limit what my children might try to be? Will they have the drive to pursue a career they might have dreams about? The negative possibilities haunted him. Children learn by example - the truth of that statement stuck like a thorn in any rationalization he tried to make. Will the time I spend with them offset that effect? Will it make it worse? The uncertainties rolled over and over in his head.

He sighed heavily and began to toy with the little paper parrot. It was damp, stained with some sort of dark liquid, and the desk underneath it was sticky. Daniel’s grape juice, most likely, Jim realized.

He lifted the parrot to face level and pitched it into the wastebasket beside the desk. “Two!” he thought absently. Then he repeated the process with a similarly dampened swan, and with the nearly juice logged elephant, hitting the basket with each shot.

And that was when it dawned upon him. Of course!

He rose suddenly, strode purposefully to the kitchen and fetched both wet and dry paper towels. He dumped the tote of remaining animals upside down into the wastebasket and wiped the desk clean and dry. Then, he grabbed his laptop from the nearby messenger bag, opened it, and with an intent expression, started typing furiously.

Four o’clock in the morning

This time he was keenly aware of her presence, as Pam walked up behind him. He didn’t look around immediately, but held up one finger to say, “Just a minute.” He finished typing the last two sentences and then turned to her, his face sporting a wide, triumphant grin.

“What,” she asked, blinking her eyes, “are you doing?” She was puzzled.

“Look!” he beamed, full of excitement. He motioned toward his computer screen.

“Huh?” asked a still sleepy Pam. She rubbed her eyes open and tried to focus on the monitor. She read out loud, first as a question. “Full Court Press?” But then her tone changed to amazement. “A Sports Blog, by Jim Halpert.”

“Oh my! Jim?” She was definitely awake now, and she had to remember to quiet herself so as not to awaken the kids. “The design is great, but,” her eyes roved over the page, “you could use some graphics right here…” she pointed at the left side of the screen.

“I was hoping you would help me with that,” he said eagerly. “I’m going to write this, and maybe after some time, if it’s something people want to read, I’ll go to the newspaper and see if I can maybe cover some local games for them,” he said hopefully. “It may not go anywhere, and” - he feigned solemn concern - “…of course I won’t get as many mines swept at work, but…” He grinned at Pam like a fool.

She stood, silent for a moment – and then said simply, “I love it…”but her voice trailed off.

“What?” He lowered his chin slightly, willing her to finish her statement.

“Jim.” Pam's head turned sideways, and she looked at him with earnest sympathy in her eyes. “You know you’re somebody to us, don’t you? You don’t have to do or be anything else.”

“Yeah, I do, “ he assured her. “But I’m hoping the kids will see how you can go after something you enjoy, even if it’s not being president or” - an edge crept into his voice - “a zoo vet. Or whatever. That you can still put family first and do…something. Does that make sense? Besides, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

“Yeah,“ she answered, a smile spreading over her face. “It does.” Pam leaned down to give him a kiss. Their lips met softly at first, but the kiss deepened rapidly. Jim embraced his wife, easing her into this lap. She responded eagerly, and soon he pulled back to catch his breath and ask, “What time is it?”

“Four,” she whispered, her voice urgent as she began to unbutton his shirt.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Jim reached awkwardly to the side, closing the laptop. He kissed her again, with purpose, and then breathed into her ear, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

“The laptop?” she smirked.

“Hell no,” he growled and pulled her body tightly against his. After another long kiss, they reluctantly pulled away from each other, and he followed Pam up the stairs toward their bedroom. Her hips swayed magnetically in the moonlight, and Jim noted that this was one of his other favorite moments of the day – watching Pam walk into their bedroom. Yes, yes, definitely in the top three, he chuckled to himself, as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Four years later

Jim entered the kitchen to see Pam sitting at the table, staring at her laptop. Neat little stacks of papers lay all around her, and she was looking back and forth from a one of the papers to the computer intently. He walked up behind her and planted a kiss on her head. “Bills paid?”

She nodded, “Almost done,” and motioned for Jim to sit down beside her. He obliged and waited patiently. In just a few seconds, she sighed, placed a paper into one of the stacks, and focused her attention on him.

“Annie did not want to go to bed tonight,” he observed wryly. “I swear I don’t think she’d ever sleep if we didn’t make her.

“She sleeps less than Daniel or CeCe did,” Pam agreed, “that’s for sure.”

“But, she’s down now,” he said, relieved. “Daniel’s reading and CeCe’s doing homework.”

“Before I forget to ask you,” Pam changed the subject, “what time is the tournament game you’re covering tomorrow?”

“Seven. I’m sure Daniel will want to go. Maybe CeCe, too? Guess I should ask her.”

Pam snorted. “Oh yeah, CeCe definitely wants to go to the West Scranton game. She mentioned that she was going to try and get you to introduce her to Cory Wagner – that star forward they have?” Pam wiggled her eyebrows.

“He’s a freaking junior in high school,” Jim exclaimed in disbelief.

“Yup.” Pam smiled, unamused, as she looked over her glasses at him. “She said, and I quote – Cory’s sooooo dreamy.”

“God.” Jim said, a pained look on his face. “So, I guess we should go ahead and get that cage in the garage fixed right up for her – when can we let her out? Eighteen? No, was it twenty one?”

“And she’s not even a teenager yet, Jim.”

They laughed together, but exchanged looks of genuine fear.

“Well,” Jim said, rising, “I’m going to go finish up that article that’s due tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Pam stopped him. “Wait a minute. You’ll want to see this.” She handed him a piece of notebook paper. It was covered with Daniel’s handwriting and there was a red “smiley face” in the top right hand corner.

At the beginning was a typed prompt: Who is your hero? Jim read what his seven year old son had painstakingly printed in response:

My dad. Cause he rites about sports games for are paper and everbody reads what he rites. He goes to lots of big hi skool ball games and he has a speshal pass that gets him in for free. He got me won to and I can show it to the tiket man and he lets me in. it says PRESS. He sells paper to. He sells it to the skool so I may be riting on paper he sells. I want to be like him and he is cool. I love my dad.

Jim’s eyes filled as he instinctively held the paper to his chest for a moment.

He cleared his throat and met Pam’s eyes. “It won’t last, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? He’s proud of you now,” she noted, smiling softly.

“Nope. Doesn’t matter at all. It’s just...” He paused. “Can I keep this?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to keep it in my desk at work.”

“Thought so,” she was grinning now. “Along with your cape, Superman?”

“Really Pam?” he admonished her, a little embarrassed now.

“Damn you look good in spandex,” she teased.

His face flushed as he turned his head sharply sideways. “Not nice.”

“Why don’t you fly up there and get the rest of your kids to bed?” she continued, unfazed, and then her teasing tone turned suggestive. “Maybe we’ll see if you’re made of steel tonight.”

His flustered demeanor disappeared quickly, and his eyes widened under raised eyebrows. “You are so bad, Beesly.” He shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m feeling very bad.” Her voice was sultry now, a half smile on her face. “Very, very bad.”

He opened his mouth to say something else and thought better of it. Jim put his hands in out in front of him, made a swooshing noise, and bounded up the stairs in three giant strides.





The end.

I can't get the end notes to work properly, so I'll just say thanks for reading and if you can spare a moment, any comments would be appreciated.