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Fifteen Months



May, 2007



To say that it was one of the most exciting, best weeks of her life would be an understatement – the understatement of the year. One week ago to this very day, he came back. Asked her on a date, to which she accepted. A week ago today she sat in her bedroom after work, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear – her peach colored dress she had bought but never wore. She fixed her hair in bigger curls, added a bit more make up, and went out to dinner with her best friend Jim. That night, when they split appetizers and dessert and got back into one another’s lives, ending the evening with a light, almost playful chaste kiss by his car, she thought she would permanently wear a grin for the rest of her days.

And later that night when she lay in bed, the ghost of his kiss still on her lips, she couldn’t have had a more restful sleep. Because things could have gone a whole other way – he could have taken the job and moved away forever. Had the unthinkable happened, well, that night would have been completely different for her– filled with anger, resentment, self loathing and despair. That Pam didn’t have to worry about that now – now that he was officially back at his old desk and back in her life for good made her feel invincible.

She knew the happy, giddy, bubbly new relationship feeling would wear off eventually and they would become comfortable, familiar and settled – in a good way.

She just didn’t realize that it would happen so soon. At least that’s what she was currently pondering as she sat at her desk, eying the side of his face – his line of sight unmoving from his computer screen. His back hunched, almost looking as if he were trying to block the monitor from other peoples view. Pam wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much that he hadn’t looked her way once since he walked into the office an hour ago, other than to say good morning when he hung up his coat. But for some reason, some sort of slightly frustrated curiosity began to percolate to the surface.

Pam tried to concentrate on tasks at hand – filing, faxing, copying, taking memos for Michael and answering the phone. Turns out though, with each lull came her lingering glance back to his direction. And normally – back before things changed and then went back to the way they were – he would just know she was looking at him. He would instinctively know that she was bored. He’d look up, smile at her and then casually walk over and pretend to check messages.

That he wasn’t doing any of those things right now sort of annoyed her. Not to the point where she became irate. It was more so that she was curious as to what had his attention on that computer screen that he couldn’t look up for ten seconds.

She did what any normal girl would do in her situation. Be passive aggressive about the whole thing. She took her pink honey comb tea mug with her to make him think she was going for tea and ‘just so happened to stop by and say hi to him.’ The brilliance of that idea made her bite her lip to keep from giggling in delight.

He didn’t move a muscle when she stood up. She took three steps toward him – he didn’t budge. Two steps later, she was a hairline away from his desk when his head shot up and he clicked his mouse furiously.

He looked up at her with a half dazed, half guilty expression. “Hey. Time for tea?”

She tilted her head to the side and nodded. “Yep. Care to join?”

“Oh, I would love to. But I’ve got this thing I’m doing and you know how it goes. Can’t get away.” He laughed lightly, a hint of color on his cheeks.

“Okay,” she said, playfully pouting. “We’re still having lunch today?”

“Oh … uh, I sort of have a client to see during lunch,” he said, smiling with squinted eyes.

She shrugged and smiled. “Okay. I’ll save your half of the cross word for when you get back. You’re doing the across today.”

“You got it.” He grinned and concealed a wink that made her stomach flutter a bit.

She walked toward the kitchen and turned around to look out the door window the second she stepped in, trying to get a view of his computer monitor. But his entire upper back was literally blocking her line of sight.

She let out a frustrated sigh and made her tea.

Her suspicions grew when she walked out of the kitchen and he instantly minimized what he had been looking at and started moving paper around his desk. The fact that he completely avoided making any form of eye contact with her as she walked past him made her feel slightly deflated.

That small innocuous feeling of disappointment in not talking to him before he left for his client lunch made her stab at her yogurt as she ate it. And while doing the crossword puzzle she sat with her hand on her cheek.

When he walked back in almost three hours after lunch with a nod and a “Hey,” before he walked back to his desk, she twisted her fingers together. And started to worry.

She wracked her brain to try and remember if she’d said or done something that would make him act this weird. They’d been getting along so incredibly well, got back to their usual banter and had managed to get past all of the ‘why didn’t you’ and ‘why did you’ questions. Just last night, they were situated on her sofa and making out like horny teenagers. Things got heated as their hands began exploring slivers of skin.

And then he stopped suddenly, she remembers he had that deer in the headlights look on his face when he pulled back. The way he stared at her felt like his eyes were looking into the depths of her soul – which only made her want him more.

Much to her and the ache between her thighs chagrin, he sat up, rubbed his hands over his face, took a sip of his soda and then said, “It’s getting late. I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow though, okay?” He said it gently, with warmth and happiness exuding his words.

But now, as she sent her end of day faxes she worried. Maybe she had done something wrong and that’s why he stopped?

She tried filling in the blanks, but each time she tried to she came up with the same answer. Everything was fine yesterday.

She quietly wondered what the hell happened when he went home last night.

With a shrug of her shoulders she smiled and accepted her coat from his hands and they walked toward the elevator.

Once the elevator doors closed, his arm wound its way around her shoulder. “Everything okay?” he asked, kissing her temple.

The air in her lungs became a bit cooler and the knot in her neck loosened. “Yeah. So, you’re coming over tonight?”

“Yup. Just have to go to my place for a minute. I’ll pick up Chinese food?” he asked, his arm slipping back to his side as they walked out into the lobby. He looked around to make sure they were not within anyone’s line of sight, and he bent down quickly to brush a kiss over her lips.

She grinned. “Yeah, pick me up some soup.”

“Really? You eat soup in the spring.”

“Yep, I’m mixing it up.” She winked.

“Oh, are you now?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “Well, live it up, Pam.”

“Oh, I will.” She giggled. “We’re so weird, aren’t we?”

He shrugged, “Eh, what can ya do. Hey, I’ll see you in a half hour.”

“Okay.”


**


“Oh my god, how much food did you buy?” she asked, standing in the doorway. Jim stood in front with two bags in his hands.

He shrugged, grinned at her and looked at his hands, lifting the bags. “We can always have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow,” he affirmed, walking to her kitchen.

It had only been a week, she marveled, and already he was walking around her space like he had done it a thousand times.

“Hey, didn’t you go home? Why are you still wearing your work clothes?” she asked, taking the soup container from the bag.

“Oh, yeah I did, but I forgot to change.” He shrugged.

“Oo-kay, weirdo.” She laughed lightly. “Hey, you okay? You seem a little … something today. You’re not mad at me are you?”

He shook his head and puckered his lips. “Nope, I am definitely not mad at you.”

She nodded. “Okay, good. You’d tell me though, if it was something, right?” As she asked, she lifted the lid from the soup container, spilling some on her hand. “Ouch!” she yelped.

Jim quickly took the container from her, and walked her over to the sink, holding her hand in his as he ran it under cool water. “You’re okay.” He soothed, kissing her head.

He stood behind her with his arms around her waist as she dried her hand with a towel.

“Thanks,” she said with her head bowed down.

His head dipped down lower, his mouth near her ear. “You’re going to have to be more careful with my girlfriend.”

All she could do was stifle the teenage girl inside of her brain – the one who wanted to squeal at the mention of the G-word. “I’ll … I’ll make sure I do that.”

“You’re blushing,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

She giggled and closed her eyes at the sensation of his breath crossing under her chin. She turned in his arms and put her arms around his neck. “Thanks, for saving me.”

He kissed her lightly. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“Oh. Good,” she stammered, her heart beat quickening at the smoldering serious look he had on his face. And when he leaned closer to her, kissing her cheek before he held her in a tight hug, she wasn’t sure her legs would be able to sustain her weight any longer.

“This is nice,” he whispered, his hands rubbing her back gently.

Her response to that was a sigh and a nod.

He pulled back, his arms still around her waist. His cheeks were pinker than normal and his expression was a mixture of apprehension and confidence, mixed with joy. With his eyelids lowered and a grin on his face, he laughed lightly before saying, “I love you.”

The instant excitement within her could only show itself in one way in that instant as she let a small happy laugh escape and tightened her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheeks in rapid succession, moved her lips to his forehead, down his nose and then saying against his lips, “I love you, too.”

Once they’d thoroughly sealed their words with a feverish make out session that included accidentally knocking over eggrolls and wonton noodles, they were seated on the couch enjoying their meal and some television.

“So, I think I answered your question from before by the way.”

She giggled. “Yeah.”

“How’s your hand?”

She wiggled her fingers and opened and closed her hand. “I think I’ll survive.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“How’d your sales call go? Did you close the deal?”

He laughed at that. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Cool.”

He put his arm around her shoulder after setting his plate on the coffee table. As she put her head on his chest, she completely forgot what she was so worried about.

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Fifteen Months


June 2007


“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Jim said, switching the phone to his right ear. “What’s the big deal if I come over while you’re cleaning?”

Pam laughed. “It’s one of life’s little mysteries, Jim.”

“Sort of like why is Starbucks more environmentally conscious than Dunkin Donuts.”

The line was silent for a moment before she retorted, “You know, only you could come up with some kind of warped comparison like that. And, what does that even mean?”

“It means you can’t recycle a Dunkin Donuts cup unless it’s a small, a latte, or an iced coffee. Their medium and large hot cups are Styrofoam.”

“What… what does that have to do with me cleaning, exactly?”

“Oh, nothing, but can you come answer your door? I bought Starbucks.”

He counted to ten, and there she appeared, swinging the door open, her hands covered with yellow cleaning gloves, one fist on her hip and her head tilted. He grinned and lifted the carrier tray.

A smile sprouted onto her face quickly as she waved him inside.

He handed her a cup, kissed her forehead and said, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” she mumbled into her coffee cup. “Why are you so quippy today?”

“Well,” he paused for dramatic effect. “It’s Saturday, the first one of the summer. It’s really nice outside. My hair’s growing back as you requested. And it’s cleaning day. Followed by something outdoorsy.”

She quirked an eyebrow incredulously asking, “Yeah, I’m sure you’re going to enjoy Sport Center while I scrub my toilet,” she laughed.

“Your sarcasm is so … what’s the word I’m looking for? Ah, yes. Unappreciated.”

“Sorry.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “I just didn’t think you … you know, cleaned.”

He shook his head with a playful grin on his face. “No, the magical Leprechauns come and wash the sink and vacuum the floor for me.”

“Touché.” She giggled and stepped forward, putting an arm around his waist and gazing upward. “Fine, but you can’t distract me,” she said playfully.

“Um, I’m sorry, but who’s arm’s around who here?” he muttered, holding up both hands in the air while bending down and kissing her lips lightly.

Pam giggled, her lips lingering on his for a moment before she pulled back and grinned. “So, what kind of outdoors things did you have in mind?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought we could just drive around. See where my Saab takes us.”

“Okay, that sounds like fun,” she agreed with a nod. “Let’s go.”

“I thought you wanted to clean?”

She rolled her eyes playfully and said coyly, “I can’t find my motivation anymore.”

“Darn it,” he whispered, brushing a kiss over her lips.

“Yep.”


**

“What kind of sandwich do you want?” Jim asked, standing at the deli counter at the grocery store.

“Hmm… how about tuna?” she giggled.

“Have I not mentioned my lifetime ban on tuna sandwiches? With ever bite I take, it’s like Andy’s singing falsetto in my ear. It’s disturbing.”

She smiled. “Okay, but I’m eating it, not you.”

He pouted. “You’re not gonna share?”

“Turkey’s fine,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That’s much better.” He nodded appreciatively.

“How old are you?” she snorted.

Jim puckered his lips and set them to the side. “Twelve.”

“Apparently,” she joked.

He pursed his lips. “Whatever. So, have you ever been to Prompton State Park?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”

“Wanna go?”

“Sure,” she agreed happily. “I’ll go get some waters. Meet you at the checkout counter.”

“You got it.”


**


“So, Andy emotionally scarred you for life, huh?” Pam asked as they made their way toward the car.

“Yep, pretty much. But hey, it’s the weekend. No work talk.”

“I like that rule.”

“Good,” he nodded, directing his car to highway. “I can’t believe you’ve never been to Prompton. My parents would take us there all the time.”

“Yeah, my dad’s kind of … loopy. He never really did that whole taking us to parks when we were little.”

“Well, after today you can tell everyone that your awesome boyfriend took you to the most gorgeous park in the Northeast.”

“Oh, the self flattery,” she joked. “It can’t be nicer than Central Park.”

“Please, a park in the middle of a city with cars driving through the middle of it is not a park. What you’re about to see in less than twenty minutes is a real park.”

“Noted.”

“Brace yourself.”

“Bracing,” she laughed.


**


“Wow, this is really nice,” Pam said, holding Jim’s hand as they walked along a trail that led to Lake Prompton. “It’s so peaceful.”

“It really is. I loved coming here. We’d always had lunch, relax for the afternoon. Then afterward, we would stop for dinner and ice cream.”

“That’s really cute.”

“Yeah, it was. Haven’t been here in ages though,” he said, setting the bag of food on a wooden table.

“It’s pretty. So much nicer than Lake Scranton,” she said, handing him half of her sandwich.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said with a grin.


**

They ambled along a path that wound around the lake hand in hand, quietly taking in the beauty of nature before them.

“When I was about ten years old, I walked this trail by myself. And when I got back around, I thought my mom was going to kill me.”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “You were a roamer, huh?”

“I’d like to call myself an explorer. Roamer sounds too … I don’t know. Dirty.”

She threw her head back in laughter. “You’re crazy.”

“Eh. So, did you do anything that made your parents almost beat the daylights out of you?”

“Hmm, “ she paused for a moment, tapping her finger on her chin. “One day, I think I was like five years old. My dad was doing something underneath the car. I somehow was inside the car, standing on the driver’s seat, sort of playing with the buttons and stuff. And apparently, I put the car in reverse and almost ran him over.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said incredulously.

“Yep. I thought I would never see the light of day ever again,” she laughed.

He clicked his tongue and sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Menace to society. How’d they stop the car?”

“Our neighbor jumped in the car and pulled the emergency brake. I guess that’s why now you can’t move the gear shift unless you put your foot on the brake first.” She shrugged.

“Wow. That’s frightening,” he said, rubbing his head. “Let’s make sure the doors to the car are always locked. You know, just in case.”

She giggled. “Yeah, good idea.”

“What other havoc did you wreak?” he asked.

“Um… well, when I was … four? Five maybe? I drew on the living room wall with a fudge pop.”

“No you didn’t,” he turned to look at her with his mouth agape.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “My mom tells everyone this story. She says it’s how she knew I’d be an artist. She keeps saying they filmed it but I have yet to see the footage.”

“Okay, I have to see it. I’m definitely going to have to see that,” he said with adoration.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said, barely above a whisper, bending over slightly in laughter.

“What? You couldn’t even say it with a straight face,” he laughed loudly, covering his mouth.

She held her side, inhaling loudly, her face red. “In my defense,” she said between breaths, “it was supposed to not sound like that.”

“Oh, but it did,” he said with a wide grin.

“Okay, sorry. Anyway,” she shook her head quickly and dried her eye. “What kind of menacing did you make your mother go through?”

“Well, if you compare me to my brothers, I’m pretty much a saint.”

“Yeah, and you just somehow automatically started pranking Dwight without any formal training,” she said sarcastically.

Jim sighed, picked up a small twig from the ground and studied it. “When I was twelve, my brother Tom blamed me for throwing rocks at the car. I was standing there, in the driveway just playing basketball. I told him mom was going to yell if he didn’t stop, that he was making dents in the door. But he just kept going. So as I’m walking over and picking up rocks, out walks my mother, screaming my name. And I turn around and there’s Tom, standing to the side, pointing his finger at me. And Pete, son of a bitch that he is, comes out of nowhere and tells my mom that he told me to stop but I wouldn’t listen.”

“Wow. That’s … and you retaliated, how?” she asked.

“Did you ever watch Growing Pains?”

“Yep, I did.”

“Okay, remember the episode where the little brother glues himself to the coffee table?”

“That’s probably one of the only funny episodes,” she said with a nod.

“Oh, completely with you there. So… one day, Tom was in his room, studying for this big biology test. So, I snuck out to the garage and grabbed my dad’s superglue. Then, I asked Larissa to call Tom downstairs for me.”

“Wow, nice sister.”

“Thanks. It cost me ten dollars to get her to do it for me.”

Pam snorted. “Okay, well. If I were her I’d have a price too. Continue.”

“So, she calls Tom downstairs, asks him if he can make her a sandwich. I put the glue on his chair.”

“Oh boy,” she sighed, covering her mouth and laughing.

“To this day, the guy has no idea how he got glue on his chair.”

“Wow. See, now that’s masterful. That he has no idea that you did it. And I’m the only one who now knows you did it. Hmmm…”

He stopped walking, turned to face her and wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, you’re the only one who knows.” He inched his head closer to hers. “Name your price.”

She tapped her lips, stood on her toes and puckered. He wrapped one arm around her waist and one hand cradled the back of her head as he kissed her softly and slowly.

He pulled back and gazed into her eyes with a small grin. “That’s totally worth giving up a story I was going to take to the grave.”

She shoved his shoulder slightly. “Don’t say that word. I’m honored, by the way. But don’t say that word.”

“No? Why not?” he whispered, kissing her lip lightly once more.

“Because,” she purred, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh. Good.” He sighed and captured her lips with his again.


**

“Today was fun,” Pam said, walking into her living room.

“Yeah, definitely.” He stretched his arms up and yawned. “Okay, I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She said, walking over to him and putting her arms around his waist. “It’s only eight. Sit,” she said, pointing to the couch.

“I’m not a dog, Pam.” He laughed.

She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Want a drink?”

He shrugged. “Water’s good.” He nodded and moved to sit on Pam’s couch.

Pam walked in a moment later with two bottles of water in the crook of her arm and a half eaten pint of Ben and Jerry’s in her hand. “Want some ice cream?”

He smiled, his eyes lit up. “That sounds great.”

“Cool,” she said, placing the waters and the ice cream on the end table. She paused for a moment, taking in the smitten expression that wrote itself all over Jim’s face. She perched herself on his lap, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his jaw.

He enveloped her in his arms and rested his cheek next to hers. “This is nice,” he said airily.

She kissed the spot below his earlobe and whispered, “I love you,” into his ear.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, his hands running gently over her back.

“What do you wanna do tomorrow?” she asked.

He smiled and kissed her shoulder. “Anything you want.”

“I need new shoes,” she said, resting her head on his chest, her hand brushing over his bicep.

“Okay,” he said in agreement. He lifted her chin and kissed her lightly at first, deepening the kiss when her fingers made their way through his hair.

.

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July 2007



Jim thought he had seen them all, each and every one of Pam’s expressions – from happy to sad to enamored to annoyed, he could read them all. The one she wore at this precise moment, however, was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He stood next to his father, who spoke endlessly about his troubles with his golf swing – but Jim’s mind was about ten feet to the right, his sun ray induced squinted eyes were focused on Pam speaking animatedly with his grandmother. Pam’s jaw was slack, her lips almost in a grin and he wished that he could see her eyes behind her sunglasses.

His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on his shoulder courtesy of his father. “You’re a lucky man, Jim.”

Jim shook himself out of his train of thought and asked, “What?”

His father pointed the top of his beer bottle toward where the women were seated, now joined by his mother and Larissa. “She’s a great person. She fits right in.”

Jim took a sip of beer to swallow the sudden burst of giddiness that came to the surface. “Yeah, she’s pretty great.” He looked around awkwardly, his smile uncontainable as he watched Pam gracefully nod, smile and talk to the other important women in his life.

“Well, I’ll go start the grill. Why don’t you show Pam around the neighborhood,” his father suggested.

“Will do,” he nodded, striding through the grass, placing his hand on Pam’s shoulder. “Excuse me, sorry to break up all the fun.”

“Oh, we were just talking about you,” Pam said with a wide smile.

“That’s perfect,” he looked at his mother sarcastically tilting his head.

“I would never say a bad word about you Jimmy,” his grandmother said in a strained tone of voice. “He’s always been my favorite.” She held her hand to her chest as she nodded at the group.

“Thank you, Nana,” he said, bending down to kiss her cheek. “Hey, um, may I steal Pam away from you? I thought I’d show her around the neighborhood a bit. Dad’s starting to barbeque.”

“Can I come?” Larissa chimed in. “I want to hear more about your art classes,” she said pleadingly.

Pam smiled and tugged Jim’s arm. “Sure, that sounds fun.”

“We’ll be back in a few,” Jim said, taking Pam’s hand in one hand and putting his other hand on Larissa’s shoulder.

“Pam was telling us about this guy that yelled at you in a Laundromat? What did you do this time, Jim?”

Jim rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Thanks, Riss, automatically blaming me? Nice.”

“Well,” Pam chimed in with a facetious grin. “You did sort of take his clothes out of the drier.”

“In my defense, it was the only drier that could potentially be available. And we had dinner reservations.”

“He has an answer for everything,” Larissa laughed. “How do you put up with him, Pam?”

Pam smiled, glancing sideways up to meet Jim’s eyes. “I have no idea,” she joked, squeezing his hand.

“See, I knew the two of you hanging out together could only lead to snarky comments,” Jim said with a sigh. “So, how’s school, Riss?”

“Eh, only two more years to go,” Larissa said with a shrug. “Pam’s animation class sounds way cooler than stupid math.”

“Animation? That’s awesome, Pam,” Jim said happily, grasping her fingers tighter. “When do you start?”

“The end of September. I wasn’t totally sure if I was going to do it, but your grandma is kind of persuasive.”

“Nana always gets her way,” Larissa laughed. “Hey, I’m gonna go back to the house and see if Mom needs anything. See you guys in there?”

“Yep, no problem. Hope it wasn’t something I said,” Jim said with a laugh.

“It’s always something you said, Ace.” Larissa tapped Jim’s arm as she turned and walked back to the house.

“So, sorry I didn’t tell you about the class,” Pam said instantly, “I really wasn’t going to take it but your grandmother asked me what I was waiting for. And clearly my shrugging did not equal a good answer for her. So…” She looked at Jim with a nervous smile.

“Yeah, she’s a pretty pushy old lady. So, when’s the class?”

“Wednesday night after work.”

“Cool. We can go supply shopping after we get you a new washer-drier.”

Suddenly Pam’s arms were around his waist and a muffled, “Thank you,” was mumbled into his t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around her as they stood under a big oak tree and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

The sound of a firecracker made both of them jump about half a foot in the air. “Happy Fourth of July,” Pam said, holding her hand over her heart.

“Yes, Happy Independence Day.”

“So, this is where you grew up, huh?” she asked quietly, her arms around his waist and her chin rest on his chest.

“Yep, this is it. This is where I learned how to ride a bike, drive a car and disassemble my brothers’ bikes and cars.”

“You can’t take apart a car.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at the things I can do a good set of man tools.”

“Why does that sound so wrong,” she laughed.

“Someone has a dirty mind, that’s why,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“We should go back in, before they get mad. I don’t want your grandma getting the wrong ideas.”

“Oh, and what ideas would those be?” he laughed.

“You know, impure ones.”

“Well, lucky for you, my Nana thinks I’m a saint.”

“Oh, if she only knew,” Pam giggled.

“Okay smartass. Move it,” he said sarcastically, motioning his head toward the house.

“Whatever you say, Ace,” she said, grinning proudly.

“Oh good, you too.” He rolled his eyes and put his arm around her, holding onto her bicep as they walked.


**

They had a system, a system Jim knew by heart by now. Unless they ordered the exact same meal, everything was split down the middle. Today, in his parent’s backyard during the Fourth of July – slash – Pam meets Jim’s family barbeque, was no different. Jim carefully cut his hamburger down the middle, Pam sliced through her chicken sandwich and they placed the identical halves into the other’s plate. He scooped potato salad into her plate; she scooped macaroni salad into his. All was done without fuss and was carefully executed as if they had been doing this for years. Though, Jim thought, they really had been doing this for years. Just not officially as a couple, not when he was really and truly allowed to look at her for longer than a second before forcing himself to look away.

As Jim took a bite of his hamburger, he glanced up and saw his mother and sister staring at him with mocking grins on their faces.

“What?” he asked with a mouthful of food.

His mother laughed, “Nothing, it’s just like watching a show, the way you two eat.”

Jim watched the color rise in Pam’s cheeks as she giggled lightly. “Sorry, it’s just a thing we do apparently.”

“It’s so cute, it sort of makes me want to go brush my teeth,” Larissa said, rolling her eyes.

“Larissa, it’s not nice to speak to Jimmy like that,” Nana said, her shaky finger pointed at the youngest Halpert.

“Thank you, Nana.” Jim smirked at Larissa.

“Okay, the two of you stop before your play fighting turns into real fighting,” Betsy said. “It happens all the time, Pam. These two start out with the playful jabs and then someone,” she tilted her head toward Larissa, “Ends up in the bathroom crying,” she said, glaring at Jim.

“Thanks, Mom. I always hoped one day you’d yell at me in front of my girlfriend.” Jim drew in his lips and tilted his head.

Nana waved her hand, saying, “Oh, please, Pam’s one of us now, right Pam?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Pam spoke quietly, seemingly caught off guard. “Definitely.” She turned her head down and Jim watched as she bit her lip before she ate a forkful of potato salad.

Without any thought to where they were, Jim put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly as he placed a kiss to the side of her head. He silently nodded and took another bite of his hamburger. He looked up briefly to find his parent’s both smiling at one another and his sister trying to hide a smile as she rolled her eyes.


**

It was as close to tradition as his family had – every year, after their backyard barbeque, whoever attended would all pile into their respective cars and drive over to Nay Aug Park for the big fireworks display. This year, Jim noted, would be no different, as he and Pam helped clean up as quickly as possible from dessert so they wouldn’t miss the good viewing spots that filled up rapidly as the sun set.

As he and Pam drove the short distance to the park, she asked, “Why the beach blanket?”

“Oh, in case you want to sit? I figure, it rained last night, the grass might be wet.”

“You think of everything, Ace.”

“Okay, that has to be old by now.”

“Oh, come on, your sister gets to call you Ace, I should too.”

“Do you know why she calls me Ace?”

“Yep, she told me because no matter how much of an ass Tom and Pete were to you, you’d always get the upper hand. She was your accomplice every time you pulled one over on them.”

“Girls really do share everything, don’t they?”

“We really do,” Pam said with a laugh. “So, I get to call you Ace. Because I’m your accomplice now.”

“Oh, are you?” he smirked, glancing at her sideways as he parked the car.

Pam smirked and tilted her head. “Yep.”

“Okay,” he said softly, reaching over to hold her cheek. He inched closer, slowly, reminding him of the slowness of their first kiss two months ago on their first date. But unlike that first chaste and lightning fast kiss, this lingered as hands grasped lightly into hair and soft moans escaped their throats as their tongues met.

He was a millisecond away from breaking the kiss long enough to suggest they go back to his place, when a light tapping on his window snapped both of them to attention. Jim looked up to find his entire family standing outside his car, waving and smiling like they’d never seen two people making out in a car before. He groaned.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to skip fireworks, but now, that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.”

“It’s okay,” she said, taking off her seatbelt and fixing her hair. “I love fireworks. And I’m really, oddly excited about getting to watch them with you.”

“Me too,” he said with a nod, stepping out of the car.

Jim purposefully went in the opposite direction of his family, catching his mother’s eye briefly as he led Pam toward a quiet spot away from the crowd. He set the blanket on the grass, inhaling the thick humid air that surrounded them as they sat. Pam snaked her arm around his and rest her head on his shoulder, his resistance null as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

They watched, oohed and ahhed at the twenty minute fireworks display, but he knew – knew that if he were pressed to describe the fireworks that popped and dazzled in the dark night sky, all he would be able to talk about were two things. The way Pam’s eyes followed the lines of light up into the sky – her smile radiant and her eyes wide. And the feeling of her leaning into his side, the texture of her hair under his cheek as he lay his head gently on hers, the way her fingers brushed the material of his t-shirt, how her finger scratched the hem of the sleeve and the skin underneath.

He could feel himself dazed, the entire day culminating in such wonder to his brain that he thought he would wake up any moment and the past two months would disappear.

The slow pace they were taking things was starting to take its toll on him, though he would never say it out loud - how increasingly difficult it was becoming to just drop her off at her apartment and drive home to his and how he had to remind himself each morning that they were together even though she did not occupy the other half of his bed.

As they said their goodbyes to his family and made their way to Pam’s apartment, he geared himself up for another night at his place, alone and pent up.

So, to say he was shocked when Pam wordlessly unlocked her door, took his hand in hers and pulled him into her apartment, locking the door behind them before continuing to lead him toward her bedroom – well, shock would be one of the things he felt.

He instantly admonished himself for stopping midstride and tugging at her hand. “Hey,” he said, trailing off.

She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his t-shirt covered chest. “I just wanted to show you how incredibly happy I am,” she paused, shaking her head as her eyes glistened. “How incredibly happy I am that you came back.” She bit her bottom lip, her upper lip drawn inward. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” she said, burrowing her head in the crook of his arm, kissing the exposed skin below his shirt sleeve.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, nuzzling his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her – somewhere between barbeque, humidity and some light remnants of something fruity.

“Don’t go home tonight,” she asked, gazing upward.

“Okay,” he said before slowly bending down to capture her lips with his, his hands cradling her head and waist as Pam walked backward the rest of the way to her bedroom.

They stood in front of one another, their hands shaking, their eyes locked. He stepped closer to her as she stood at the foot of her bed, his thumb brushed her cheek. His lips whispered close to hers, almost not touching at first, the kiss deepening when her hands slid behind his head, urging him forward. His fingers skimmed the side of her breast, his hands swallowing up their shape.

He thought of this moment many times before, in convolution and imagination.

She was nothing like any of his dreams.

She was so much more.

.

.

Fifteen Months


August 2007


The only sound that could be heard was the heavy downpour of rain pattering against her living room window. It figures, she thought, the one cool day in two months and it rains – thus the need to keep the window closed. It was for the best though, she figured, since she most definitely would not want anyone hearing the small misunderstanding they were working through.

Pam tried, with all of her effort, not to use the phrase ‘but you said,’ knowing that it would just start it all over again, deciding instead to maintain her stance – sitting crossed legged, curled up on one end of the couch, hovering on the armrest so intensely she thought for a moment that she might just crush it.

She eyed Jim, trying against her will to keep from narrowing her eyes as she glared while he sat on the floor - at the opposite end of her living room, resting his head on the cushion of her loveseat. The sound of his breathing was getting on her nerves, as was the fact that every few seconds he would twitch his upper lip. Most annoying was the fact that he had a scowl on his lips and his arms were folded across his chest.

It had been a full five minutes since he said, “Are we still talking about this?” and all she wanted to do was throw something at him for ending the spat. And the more she thought about how angry she was the more the desire to crawl over to him and tell him she was wrong, that she was sorry, and that she would always remember to call him if she needed him.

That’s how it all started. She had been trying all day to get rid of that overwhelming, over dramatic ‘time of the month’ mood where all she wanted to do was cry for hours on end over nothing – or just the simple fact that her DVR didn’t record The Apprentice and could anything go right in her life? And just let it snowball from there – alone. But when he arrived for lunch, seeing her red eyed and completely blubbering, he immediately thought she needed him – and why didn’t she call, and why would she want to go through whatever it was, alone.

He didn’t get it. She wanted to be alone. And when she told him that, instantly regretting it as soon as the words left her tongue, she knew she insulted him.

A pleasant afternoon they would spend watching movies and eating takeout had now turned into both of them staring aimlessly at her television, in what others would describe as a silent standoff.

The longer she stared at him not looking in her direction, not even flinching as she huffed every now and again, the more annoyed she became – which ultimately led to her also wanting to laugh at how ridiculous they were both being.

As she fought the itch she had to crack a smile, the air in the room became lighter. His shoulders seemed to sense the quick shift as they lowered to normal levels. All it took for burst of giggles to bubble up in her throat, burning her nose as she tried to hold them back – he raised his eyebrows and drew his lips into a circle – amazed by some infomercial.

Then, something she had never experienced before happened – her aggravation dissolved into thin air. Just like that, all it took was for him to point to the television, slowly turn to face her and smile.

“That’s so cool, we should totally get you one” he said, his voice wavered and cracked with laughter.

Pam tried to keep her stoic expression on her face, only able to hold the smile from her lips for a millisecond before she burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, you can’t be serious. I’m not buying a Snuggie.”

And just like that it was as if nothing had happened, he got up from the floor and sat next to her, assuring her, “We’ll get you one of those and a TiVo. How’s that sound?”

She tilted her head and smirked, “Jim, first of all, the Snuggie is just a bathrobe that you wear backwards.”

“Come on, you know you want one.”

She sighed and laughed, “You’re insane.”

“Hmm… same could be said about you,” he winked.

Pam rolled her eyes, “I know, I know. Sorry,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Friends again?”

He put his arm around her. “The best.”

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, his scent calming her, for reasons she was sure were borderline unhealthy. “So should we order lunch? Hungry?”

“What if we go get something at the diner, and then swing by Best Buy for a TiVo?”

“Jim, seriously, I don’t need a TiVo,” she said, hugging her arms around his torso and running her thumb over his elbow. “The DVR is fine.”

“Pam,” he said, shaking his head, “Apparently it’s not fine – or am I the only one that remembers a very recent epic meltdown because, as you put it, that goddamn thing is a piece of crap, and I’m going to call the cable company and tell them where to shove it.”

She nodded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Good memory.”

“I’m pretty great with current events,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, the TiVo has a hard drive, it can store tons more than a regular DVR. Trust me.”

She nodded, her head now pressed into his chest, the thudding of his heart beat and the vibration of his vocal chords sending a small shiver down her spine. She gazed up to meet his eyes. “Okay, but no Snuggie.”

He laughed, throwing his head back a bit, “That’s a fair deal. But, before we leave the premises, I’m adding another rule. Where’s the list?”

“On the fridge.”

He shuffled his bare feet along the floor as he strode the small distance to her kitchen, taking the list from underneath its magnet and scrawling something on the loose – leaf sized paper. Once he finished, he walked back toward Pam, who was in the midst of sweeping her hair up into a ponytail.

There were three simple rules to their relationship – she could not call him Jimmy, he could not call her Pammy, and neither one would mention their co-workers outside of the confines of the Scranton Business Park.

And on the bottom of the three rules was now a fourth – no one leaves during or after an argument without kissing and making up first.

Pam grinned as she read his latest addition and reached her arms up, placing them around his neck as he bent down and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek and hugging her close.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her lips pressed into his neck.

“Me too,” he said, pulling back to look into her eyes, lightly brushing a kiss across her lips before nodding. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

She nodded slowly, a sudden urge to cry welled up inside of her – this time because her brain – still being over dramatic, she knew – kept telling her how utterly perfect he was. And when her mind questioned her as to how she ever lived without him, she had to force herself to swallow, to slide on her flip flops and not think of that.

As if on cue, he looked down to her with a confused expression. “Seriously, Pam, are you okay? You look so miserable every ten seconds.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she hesitated for a moment before finally telling him, “It’s just one of those days women have… you know.”

“Oh,” he said, letting the word flow out of his mouth as if he had come to some grand realization. “See, I knew you got along with my mom and Larissa for a reason. My dad apparently knows what he’s talking about.” He shook his head and pursed his lips, “Hmm, next time I’ll just shut my mouth and bring you chocolate. Four weeks, right?” he asked as they walked out of the apartment.

Pam laughed at that, stepping quickly into the car to avoid the fat rain drops that seemed to pick up intensity the second they stepped out of her apartment. “Yeah, just bring me chocolate every four weeks.”

He nodded, “That sounds like a good rule.”

“That sounds like a great rule,” she said with a grin.



**


During her most irrational days, when she was in a different relationship, she would be ignored – she remembered that clearly still to this day. Roy’s motto was always ‘head for the hills when Pam’s in a bad mood.’

She couldn’t help notice that all through lunch and through the aisles of Best Buy, Jim acted as if she were completely fine, completely normal and completely herself. He wasn’t coddling or being passive-aggressive, or holding a grudge from earlier. He was just being him. Then, she realized something. It was absolutely something she had never known was possible.

She loved him ten times more than she did when she woke up earlier in the day.

All because he stood in front of several units and closely examined each one before explaining the benefits of each and what she would be getting for the money.

They returned to her apartment with what he deemed ‘the best TiVo for the best price,’ and he set himself in her living room, instantly combing through the instruction manual.

She strode to her bathroom to remove her irritating contact lenses and put on her glasses before returning to the living room.

The roller coaster of her emotions raised up another notch, as her heart filled with more love than she thought she could possibly muster for the man sitting on her living room carpet. His legs were crossed ‘Indian Style’ and he held two wires in his hands. His lips were twisted and his brow was creased in the center as his slightly narrowed eyes studied the instructions before him.

As her thoughts ran between wanting to tackle him to the ground with kisses and trying to decide if she should offer to help – would he want help, would he get angry if she so much as insinuated that he looked like he needed help – he caught her staring at him, the sound of his vocal chords clearing his throat taking her out of her head.

“Hey, stalker.”

“Sorry, I um,” she stammered, feeling flustered. “I was going to ask if you wanted help? Or if you wanted me to make dinner? Or um,” she trailed off, scratching the top of her left foot with the toes on her right foot.

“Or um what?” he laughed. “You weren’t going to say anything now were you?” he asked facetiously.

“Something like that,” she said with embarrassment. “I um. You just look so cute looking over those instructions. And then I was wondering if you wanted my help. Then I thought maybe you’d get … I don’t know. Mad? If I asked you if you needed help. So… that’s what I was… thinking. And yeah, I’ll shut up now.” She covered her face with her hands, not completely sure why she felt so flustered suddenly.

She felt his hands pulling her forearms, taking her hands away from her face and said, “Hey, I could use the help. But you’re not feeling your best, so why not just go take a quick nap and I’ll come and get you when I’m ready to order pizza.”

“Let me at least cook for you, it’s the least I can do after everything today.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and hers were instantly drawn around his neck, embracing him in a tight hug. “You don’t owe me anything,” he assured her.

“I know,” she said, pulling her head back and meeting his eye. “I just, I’ve never cooked for you before and we keep eating out or eating take out.”

He shook his head, his tone serious, “I don’t want you to cook for me. I want you to make a meal for us. I think that sounds better.”

“Wow,” she admired, “You’re so full of wisdom today.”

“It’s the rain, it brings out the best in me,” he said, kissing her nose.

“Okay,” she agreed. “What can I make us?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll definitely let you know after your nap. I promise, once this is done and set up,” he pointed to the box on the floor, “I’ll come and get you.”

“If you insist,” she agreed with a grin. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”


**


She wasn’t completely sure how long she had been sleeping – suffering through parts of different but equally disturbing dreams. One, she was driving her car up a hill so fast she soared into the air – her eyes flying open as the car began to freefall through the night sky. And the other, more frightening and far more real feeling – it was Jim, just walking away from her and never turning. She tried to scream his name but the harder she tried to get the words out the more insistent her mouth and eyes were of remaining closed.

Luckily for her, apparently she had not had such a problem of not getting the words out of her mouth in reality as she began to feel herself wake at the nudging and calling of her name.

“Pam, hey wake up,” she heard him say as her eyes opened wide. She could feel her heart racing through her chest.

“Wow.” Was all she could muster as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked into his worried eyes and felt hers fill with tears for what she thought was the seventy fifth time today.

He rubbed her back as he embraced her, she felt his lips on the crook of her neck and her body began to relax its muscles.

“Bad dream?”

She nodded, whispering, “Yeah, two of ‘em.”

She ran her hand over the top of his head, pressing her palm into his scalp as he rocked her slightly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just a bad dream, it’s not real.”

She took a gasp of air as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Promise?” she asked.

“I do. Whatever it was, it’s not real,” he assured her.

“Will you lay with me?”

“Of course.”

She moved to the side to allow him room and as he went to put his arms around her she interrupted, asking, “Is it okay if I maybe … just hold you?”

He gave her a concerned and confused look as he moved himself so his head rest on her arm. She placed a kiss in his hair, letting her lips stay near his hairline as she closed her eyes.

She was silent, the sound of the rain still resonating through the quiet stillness of her bedroom, as question after question popped in and out of her mind. The one that kept re-introducing itself to her forced its way out of her mouth after a few minutes of debating it’s phrasing.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I mean… even though I’m sort of … we can’t do stuff?”

He lifted his head, utter confusion etched across his face. “Of course, why wouldn’t I? I mean… it is Saturday night. Wait. You... Do you think that I would only stay here if we have sex?”

She shrugged and closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t just start another argument – their second in one day, and second for their entire young three month relationship. “I don’t know.”

“That is so not what this,” he gestured between them, “is about. You have to know that.”

“I don’t know, I know you’re right, but it’s … anytime you stay here or I come by you, we’ve always done that before we go to sleep.”

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, I’m incredibly attracted to you, and if I could spend every waking moment naked and in bed with you, I would. But Pam, what we’re doing isn’t just about that – as amazing as it is. Look, I don’t go TiVo shopping or make macaroni and cheese from scratch for just anybody.”

“You made macaroni and cheese?”

“I did. And we should go eat it before the cheese re-forms itself.”

“How do you do that? How do you always know what to say to me?”

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. And I know that it’s almost not possible, but if you could stop crying today that’d be awesome.”

“I’ll try,” she smiled, drying her eyes before kissing him softly.

“Come, you have to see what your new gadget can do.”

They walked hand in hand into the living room – her eyes instantly falling on the two bowls of the meal he prepared sitting on the coffee table with placemats underneath, and identical glasses of red wine sitting in front of their plates.

In grand fashion, he clicked the television on and sat back with his bowl.

“Hey, um, Jim,” she said between bites of macaroni and cheese, “how come there’s no audio?”

“Umm,” he stammered, setting his bowl down. “Let me see.” He walked to the television, pressed a few buttons, jiggled a few wires, all to no avail.

He slowly turned to face her, his hands flying to his hair as he gritted his teeth and smiled - the bones of his neck protruding. “Sorry?” he said through his clenched jaw.

“Hmm?” she asked with a smile.

“We’re missing a plug that I sort of forgot we needed. I can go out now and get it,” he said in a near panic.

She shook her head and patted the couch cushion. “Just come sit, we’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“You sure?” he asked, gingerly walking back, sitting down and bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”

She kissed his cheek and said, “Thanks for making us dinner.”

“You’re okay with the TV?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll manage to make the best of it.”

He nodded. “We always do.”

.

Fifteen Months



September 2007



They managed to get through the entire summer without one single co-worker catching them as anything other than ‘just friends.’ Minus, of course, the few times Kevin would come by his desk and make a comment of which he only half listened to, or the time Kelly burst into the break room after another fight with Ryan, to find he and Pam staring at one another for a second longer than co-worker friends acceptable, questioning them briefly before folding herself back into her own world of woe – is – me.

The cameras were due back in a week to capture their every move once again – though, each year, after the first few days, Jim barely noticed their existence any longer. They were ready, rehearsed exactly what they’d say when, without a doubt, they would be hit with twenty questions about what happened after he walked into the conference room almost four months ago. Since then, they knew how they would act – the same way they had been all summer. But now with the cameras on their way, he reminded her they had to be more careful – he even promising himself he would limit his visits to her desk to only work related things.

Things were light, airy and easy between them. They smiled, laughed and joked around during their work days and became experts on measuring their glances and words. He actually thought nothing could be better than his life right now. He was steadily increasing his sales numbers – his goals drastically changing the day he bought the closely guarded engagement ring that he never went anywhere without. He knew he was being insane by not just leaving it in a safe place in his apartment, but he kept it with him daily for two reasons – she spent a lot of time at his place - a lot. And second, it was a good reminder of the future he hoped to have with her during the work day when things got tedious, tenuous and tiresome.

But sometimes, he figured, when you’re at your most happy and things are going better than you thought they ever would – something has to happen to even it all out. Because, he reasoned, the universe can’t have too much happy. It was just a general rule he had learned in years ago in college – get a good grade, get caught in a downpour without an umbrella. Get out of class early; get a flat tire on the way home. Get a good job offer – fall in love with a woman who’s engaged. Sometimes, indeed he thought, things just had to even out.

Knowing that truth, he shouldn’t have been surprised when in the middle of the work day Pam transferred a phone call to him that he’d not soon forget. He should have been bracing himself for the wind to be kicked out of his metaphorical sails.

In the time it took for Pam to transfer the call and for him to pick up the receiver, Pam was standing next to his desk, her face filled with concern when he looked up at her as he spoke his name, alarm bells going off in his head before he could finish his surname.

“It’s me.”

“Riss? You okay?”

“No,” she said, sounding tearful and out of breath. “Jim, daddy’s in the hospital.”

If he tried, he wouldn’t have been able to repeat any of the words that followed his sister’s statement. He rose from his chair, almost in a fog, grabbed his bag and walked out the door. He didn’t notice that Pam had followed close behind as he ran down the stairs, his legs feeling like they were about to give out on him once he made it to the lobby.

“Jim?” Pam asked, the sound of her heels clicking on the tile floor in double time as she tried to keep up with him. “Hey,” she said, reaching his car door as he tried to get inside.

“I have to go, just tell Michael I may not be in tomorrow,” he said, turning the car on and preparing to pull out.

“Will you wait a minute? What happened?” she asked, leaning her hands on his halfway opened window.

“My dad’s in the hospital. I’ll… I have to go, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait two minutes and I’ll come with you.”

He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I’ll call you later. I gotta go.”

“Which hospital is he in?” she asked, backing away from the car as he reversed slightly.

“Mercy. I’ll talk to you later.”

As he pulled away, glancing in his rearview mirror and seeing Pam standing there in disbelief, he knew he should have waited the two minutes.

Half way around the corner his common sense kicked in. He picked up his phone and dialed the main office line.

“I’m sorry,” he said, without even waiting for her full greeting. “I know, I’m an ass.”

“I would pick a different body part. We can talk about it another time.”

“You’re mad.”

“No, I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m just … you know what, you should drive. Not talk on a cell.”

“Okay, just promise me you’re not mad.”

“I promise.”

“I can hear your eyes rolling.”

“Shut up and drive. I have another call to answer.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

“Yep.”


**

His mother stood in front of him, explaining in detail what happened to his father, nurses poked their heads into the waiting area to talk to other patients. The PA system announced doctor’s pages, and people paced around the drearily painted and duly decorated waiting area. And the only thing that Jim could focus on was the fact that now that he was here, with his weeping sister and equally shaken mother, he realized he shouldn’t be here alone.

That led him to question the merit of leaving behind the one person who knew him well enough to tell him to shut up when he needed to be told to do such. The person who, just last night as they lay facing one another, whispering things they would shy away from saying during daylight, told him that she could never imagine a life in which he didn’t exist. That she couldn’t see her future without him in it.

As his sister held tight to his hand as she sniffled, all he could think about was that he was scared to death of losing his father, and that the simple act of not waiting the one hundred and twenty seconds Pam asked him to wait could have made him lose her too.

He reached into his pocket to take out his cell, and it was as if he had committed some sort of Federal offense as two nurses turned to him and said in unison, “No cell phones allowed, sir.”

Great, he thought, he couldn’t leave the area, couldn’t leave his mother and his sister while the doctors ran tests to see why exactly his father’s arm went numb and his heart started pounding out of his chest.

He told himself he wasn’t going to over think things, that he did what he had to do, that he had to get here as soon as he could, to be with his family.

His family. He mocked himself as he thought of the ring and the question he would ask Pam one day. How could he even think of doing such when he had just treated her like she didn’t matter?

At that very moment, as he looked at the clock on the wall for the twentieth time in seven minutes, he wished he could turn back that big hand one hour and tell her to get in the car, buckle up and hope for the best.

As if his life didn’t contain enough irony, two people entered the waiting area at the same exact moment. His sister and his mother both standing to greet the doctor, and Jim’s attention focused solely on the other person – Pam. He watched as she took a step backward and instantly brought his hand out, pulling her over to join them as the doctor spoke.

He listened to the doctor speak, for the first time in an hour, he actually heard someone at full volume as he held tight to Pam’s hand. She held his wrist with her other hand, paying close attention to what was being said along with them.

“Mr. Halpert,” the doctor continued, “suffered a mild heart attack. We ran some tests and discovered a blockage. My team and I are awaiting an operating room, and as soon as one becomes available we will clean out the blockage by placing a stent into the clogged artery. Surgery should take some time, my team and I are confident that he will make a complete and full recovery in due time.”

“Can we see him?” Betsy asked.

“He’s being prepped for surgery, I apologize but there aren’t any visitors allowed inside. I’ll be back in a few hours.” And with that, the doctor turned and walked out of the waiting area.

“What a jerk,” Larissa muttered.

“Hey, Larissa, why don’t you and I grab some coffee for everyone?” Pam asked.

“Okay, sure.”

Pam squeezed his hand once before walking away with his sister, leaving him and his mother standing in the middle of the room.


**


“So,” Larissa asked the pair entered the elevator. “You really like my brother, huh?”

She pushed away what she would have said had Larissa been her friend Isabel – or her sister in law, and answered with an affirmative nod.

“Okay, but you know, I wouldn’t put up with him for what he pulled today.”

Pam shook her head in shock, “What?”

“Yeah, I asked him when he got here where you were and he said he told you not to come. He’s a douche. It runs in the family. He’s got less of that gene mutation than my other brothers, but still, sometimes Jim can be a complete ass-hat.”

“Oh,” Pam said, taken aback completely. “I um, yeah well, he’s concerned about your dad so, I totally understand.”

“Wow, you’re actually defending him. That’s impressive.”

“There’s nothing to defend, really. I’m not mad,” Pam assured.

Larissa scoffed, and in that moment Pam saw Jim’s personality come out in his sister. She was momentarily fascinated as she listened to Larissa list all of Jim’s faults.

“Oh,” Pam interrupted Larissa’s rant as they poured four cups of coffee, “He’s not that bad. He’s actually a pretty decent boyfriend, so far.”

“You’ve got blinders on. But, when he’s not being a jerk, he is pretty awesome.”

“Absolutely agreed,” Pam nodded.

“I’m sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous. I’m just worried about my dad. What if something bad happens?”

“He’ll be fine. My dad had the same surgery last summer.”

“Really? What happened?”

“It’s a long story. Basically I gave him some news that he wasn’t completely happy with. The stress of that, combined with years of never watching what he ate caused it. I um… I felt pretty guilty about it for a while. It took the doctor telling me it would have happened with or without my news. I’m still not so sure.”

“What was your news? I know, I’m nosey.”

“You get that from Jim,” Pam laughed. “I um, I called off a three year engagement to this guy I had been dating since high school. My dad didn’t take it all that well. But, the point I was trying to make is that my father is fine now. Yours will be too.”

“Thanks, Pam.”

She wasn’t sure what she was being thanked for, but she decided a polite, “You’re welcome,” would suffice.

“Would it be okay if I called you some time? I mean, I can talk to my mom, but she’s not good with guy stuff. You know?”

“Oh, believe me. I know. Definitely call me any time, day or night.”

“Maybe we could even go shopping.”

“That, my friend, is my favorite hobby,” Pam laughed.

They walked back to the waiting area; Pam couldn’t help but feel an instant fondness for Larissa. She thought maybe, despite the age difference, they could become great friends.

If she hadn’t already forgiven him on the drive to the hospital, the expression he wore on his face when she and Larissa walked into the waiting area – apologetic mixed with happiness mixed with confusion – would have done enough to erase the lingering hard feelings.

“Hey,” he said, reaching his hand out to take the cup she held toward him. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she nodded. “Any word yet?”

“Not yet. Can we maybe go for a walk?” he asked, hushing his voice, “I could use some air.”

“Yeah. Sure,” she agreed quietly.

“We’ll be back in a few, mom. Just call me if anything,” he said, holding his cell phone in the air. “We’re not going far. Just outside.”

“Okay,” Betsy said, before turning her focus toward Larissa.

Pam smiled at each before she and Jim walked down the corridor toward the main entrance.

“You know,” she began as they ambled toward a bench and took a seat. “I was just telling Larissa, my dad had this surgery last summer. He’s perfectly fine now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you sorry, exactly?”

“I don’t know. Cause I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been?

“That’s a non issue, Jim.”

“Yeah,” he sighed and shrugged. “I just keep thinking all afternoon, about how I just keep messing everything up. There are about a thousand things I’d change right now about the past and my dad and me. Literally thousands of times I could have done stuff with him but chose not to. All the times he asked me to go fishing with him, but I wanted to just hang out with my friends. And then, I just can’t stop wondering when I’m going to stop this whole life in reverse thing, stop wishing I would have done things differently. And it’s not just about my dad, it’s about you too. I should have been there last summer. I should have done it all different. And I’m just waiting for the day when I can just stop regretting things. Like today, my god, I was such an asshole to you, and here you are and I know you’re mad and you have every right to be.”

She put her arm on his shoulder, pressing her fingertips into his shirt before tapping it a few times. She leaned closer to him and said, “Sweetie, I’m not mad at you.”

He smiled weakly with tired eyes, “No? Cause I’m pretty much done with myself.”

“Seriously. I’m not. You did what you needed to do.”

He took a deep breath before saying, “I’ll make it up to you. Maybe not this weekend, but maybe in a week or two we can go see that Flea Market you wanted to go to before it closes for the summer, and then we could go mountain biking.”

“I’d like that, but not because I’m mad at you, just so we’re clear.”

“Okay,” he turned to face her, placing a kiss on her cheek. “You’re pretty freaking awesome, you know that?”

“I do now. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, sipping coffee before he asked, “So, did Larissa torture you?”

“Nope. She’s really cool. She asked me if we could have a girl’s day some time. I gave her my cell number.”

“You know she’s going to text you twenty five times a day now, right?”

“I’m okay with it,” she said with a grin, rubbing her hand over the back of his neck.

He grinned and stared at a spot on the ground, shaking his head slightly, “So, we’re good.”

“Yeah, we are. Let’s go see how your dad’s doing,” she said, motioning to the doorway. Before she rose from the bench, she said, “One more thing. No more life in reverse.”

He nodded, “You’re right. Moving forward.”

She held out her hand, “Together.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, taking her hand in his as they began walking back inside.


**

He hadn’t noticed the exact length of time, but from what he could tell from his numb rear and stiff neck, it had been a while since they had heard anything from his father’s doctor.

He’d been observing for a while – how Pam spoke with Larissa, how polite she was when talking with his mother, how she tried to keep their spirits uplifted and their minds moving.

The level of certainty and uncertainty blended and disappeared the moment the doctor finally walked through the door. At the doctor’s words, “The surgery was a success, he is resting comfortably in recovery,” Jim felt every weight lift from his shoulders.

He didn’t question if Pam was sure she wanted to stay around until they all went home for the night – taking her hand in his as they strode down the hallway to the recovery waiting room.

There were a lot of things he no longer had to ask of Pam, four months into their relationship.

Only one real question remained. And, as they walked into his father’s hospital room in groups of two – Pam with his sister and he with his mother, he had a feeling he knew the answer.
.

.




Fifteen Months


October 2007



“When I was seventeen, I was hanging out with this girl, just you know, walking around the neighborhood,” he said, passing the orange juice to Pam.

“Do I really need to hear this?” she lolled her head backward slightly.

“Just listen. So I’m walking with this girl, Trisha. And all of a sudden, Tom, jackass extraordinaire, jumps in front of us out of nowhere and says, loud enough for the entire street of people to hear, ‘Mom wants you in the house now, she found the magazines.”

Her hands instantly covered her mouth, she laughed, “Oh, no.”

“Yes,” he nodded seriously.

“Poor you.”

“Yeah, laugh it up. But can you see now why I don’t want to spend today, of all days, with my brothers?”

“Whine about it,” she said between spoonfuls of cereal. “It’s your birthday. Of course they’ll be there.”

“That’s the point. It’s my birthday. You think my parents would respect that and the fact that we,” he motioned between them, “have only been dating for five months.”

She shrugged, clearly unaffected, “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Pam, they’re horrible.”

“You don’t say?” she said mockingly.

“I’m just saying, watch your back.”

“Okay, Jim, how old are you?”

He glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink, “I’ll be twenty nine in an hour and fourteen minutes.”

“Couldn’t tell.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go running in the opposite direction like that girl Trisha did when they start spreading their seeds of terror.”

“Seeds of terror? They’re married with children, for Pete’s sake,” she shook her head and stood, placing her bowl in the sink.

“Hey, that’s my brother you’re talking about, watch it,” he jokingly warned with a finger point.

“Cute. Anyway, you’re over-reacting just a … what’s more than a smidgeon?”

“I don’t know. But seriously, you can back out. I swear I won’t hold it against you.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, standing against the counter. “We are going to your parent’s house, we’re going to sing happy birthday to you, we’re going to have cake and open presents and then come back here.”

“Yeah, and that’s when you say, Jim, this isn’t working out for me, I think we should see other people.”

“First, that’s never going to happen. And second, why are you so grouchy? It’s your birthday. It’s Saturday. It’s nice outside. You were in a better mood when we went to Dwight’s farm.”

“That’s different. That’s … well, it’s different because … well okay it’s not that different. But still, I’d rather go back there and spend my day with Mose.”

“Come here,” she opened her arms, waving her hand inward, embracing him when he stepped closer. “It was different. It was fun and kind of romantic and despite the noise, it was a great time. But I know that there’s no way you like Dwight better than your own brothers. What happened?” she asked softly.

He shrugged, his hands resting by her sides on the countertop as she hugged him around his waist. “My dad’s been home for a month, and neither one stopped by for more than a few hours. Once. They went over there one time. How’s that right?” he mumbled, letting her rub his back as he held his arms around her shoulders.

“I know. But they do live far away. Cut them some slack.”

“I should. And I totally would if they weren’t such…”

“I know,” she said, kissing his shoulder. “I know. You’ll feel better after you see your niece and nephew. And, your mom’s making chocolate cake.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, his lips grazing lightly at her collar bone. “Can’t we just stay here and do this?”

She shook her head, “As much as I’d like to, no. Larissa won’t be happy. She’s home from school this weekend, and I sort of wanted to see her.”

“Yeah? You two are almost inseparable lately. It’s cute.”

“She’s nice, I like her.”

“’Kay, let’s go. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I know,” she coddled. “I know. Sometimes we have to act like grownups.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“Sorry.”

“On my birthday.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Yeah, you will.”

“I’ll wait an hour.”

“It’s all I ask.”

She grinned and stretched her neck, lifting her face upward and whispered, “Happy birthday, you goofy boy.”

He drew his face closer to hers, sweeping a soft kiss across her lips and said, “Thank you.”

“Can I give you your gift now?”

“You mean you’re not it?”

“You’re so weird,” she laughed as his fingers grazed her sides. “Stop, that tickles,” she mumbled, leaning her head on his chest.

“I’m not convinced you really mean that,” he said, taking her face in his hands, he kissed her, groaning almost instantly as they both held onto one another, deepening the kiss.

They pulled back, she breathlessly gazed up with a smile, and playfully said, “You think you can just grab my face and kiss me whenever you want, huh?” she tilted her head to the side and giggled.

He squinted his eyes and quirked his lips, “Mm-hmm, I do.”

“Let me give you your gift. Then we should get ready, we’ll be late,” she said, nudging him lightly.

He gave a nonchalant shrug and pressed closer to her, “I was a week late, my mom’s used to waiting for me,” he muttered before capturing her lips once again.

She tapped his shoulder and spoke between kisses, “Gift,” she said, trailing a few kisses along his cheek when he nuzzled his face in her neck.

“You’re such a tease,” he grumbled, “Fine, gift now. Please.”

“Okay,” she said, squeezing his arm, “First though, I have to tell you, I know it doesn’t look like much.”

“Way to sell it, Pam,” he laughed, following her into his living room as she searched through her overnight bag.

“I know, I have a lot to learn if I ever want to get into sales,” she smiled and handed him a card. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he grinned. “You know, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

She sighed as she sat next to him, winding her arm into the crook of his elbow and leaned her cheek on his arm. “Just open it.”

“Okay,” he laughed and opened the envelope. He read the card first, holding a folded piece of paper in his hand. His smile widened as he read.

Dear Jim,

Happy birthday to the best person I know. Guess where we’ll be ringing in the New Year? That’s right! Your gift from me – a week in Vermont. You, me and some sort of fun in the snowy mountains.

Oh, and if you’re keeping score of which one of us has planned nights away, it’s Pam – 2, Jim – 0. Step it up, mister.

I love you so much.

Love, Pam.


“Well,” she began as his eyes roamed over the paper, “I wasn’t sure what to get you. And the more I thought about it the more I wanted it to be something that you’d enjoy. And, not to sound you know, full of myself, I wanted it to be something we could do together. I thought maybe you’d like that.”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Though, after today, I might be there by myself. On your dime.”

“Stop that,” she chided, swatting his arm.

“I’m just saying. Look before you sit down anywhere.”

She giggled, “I always do, Jim. I am dating you, after all.”

“Smart ass.”

“Hi, pot, meet kettle.”

“You’re such a goofball.”

“I know. It’s why you love me,” she leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Is it?”

She shook her head, her lips fighting a smile. “We should get ready.”

He sighed, “Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit.”


**


He felt a guilty sort of relief when they arrived at his parent’s house to find that his brothers were not there yet. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t want Pam to meet Pete and Tom. He knew she could handle them, and handle herself. The worry was inexplicable, and as he stepped into the living room to chat with his dad while his mom and sister spent time in the kitchen with Pam, he tried to calm his nerves.

“So, dad, how are you feeling, really?” he spoke low, an indication that his father should tell him the truth.

“I’m okay, still ticking,” Gerald said, tapping his chest. “How are things with Pam?”

Jim couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his lips when he nodded. “They’re good. Better than good. She planned a week away for the end of December for us.”

“Great, glad to hear it, Jimmy. You know, I have a good feeling about this one.”

“Thanks, dad. That means a lot. I do too.”

“Need any advice?” Gerald asked.

“Actually, things are going really good, I think I’m okay for now.”

“Jimmy,” Gerald said, leaning forward, “That’s bull. Everyone needs advice. I still need it. And I’ve been married for forty years.”

Jim nodded, his hands clasped together across his thighs. “Okay, there is one thing.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“How do I get her to pursue something she loves without making her feel like what she is now isn’t good enough?”

Gerald quirked his eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, two weeks ago, she did this animation thing for an ad our boss wanted to make. The ad wasn’t approved, but dad. She worked all night on that little thing, wound up sleeping at her desk for the night. I was so proud of her; she was so dedicated to it. And honestly, I don’t know how to encourage her without making her feel like I don’t think she’s good as is.”

Gerald sat back against the couch and rubbed his hand over his chin, letting out a thoughtful, “Hmm,” before clearing his throat. “You just have to encourage her without telling her what to do exactly. Support her and when she’s ready to take that chance, she’ll already knows you’re in her corner. Don’t push her to it; let her get there by herself.

Jim nodded thoughtfully, “Thanks. I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“Looks like you’re doing pretty good so far,” Gerald affirmed.

Jim grinned, “Yeah. I think so. Thanks.”

“She’s it.”

“She is, dad.”

“Good. We like her,” Gerald said, switching the television volume on. “Eagles?”

“Sounds good.”


**


She hadn’t been anxious all day, despite Jim’s hesitance over her reaction to his brothers, she felt at ease most of the time she spent with Betsy and Larissa as they prepared dinner. They exchanged pleasantries and caught up on celebrity gossip.

But there was a moment, as Pam folded napkins and placed forks and knives onto the dining room table, where she wished for invisibility or at the very least, wished that her cheeks would not automatically flush anytime she felt a hint of embarrassment.

“It’s so nice to be able to do this again for Jim,” Betsy began. “Last year he wouldn’t even come over for a cup of coffee on his birthday.”

Harmless enough as it may have been, Pam couldn’t help feel that pang again. She forgot how breathtaking it could be; since the five months they had been together had done so many things to get rid of that feeling. And now that it was back, she wasn’t sure how to make it go away this time, surrounded by people she was supposed to be making an impression on, trying to fit in, trying to be one of them.

She quietly sighed as she mentally added one more thing to her list – try not to imagine what it was like to be Jim this time last year in Stamford. She decided then that if she was going to let her mind drift, she’d at least hope that he wasn’t celebrating with Karen last year. Though, the more she thought, she also didn’t want to think of him being alone on his birthday. As she mulled, images of Jim sitting on a sofa in an empty apartment in a different city drifted in and out of her mind, along with images of him with Karen.

Her mind wasn’t a good place to be at that very moment as she cringed at her minds eye.

“Pam? Did you hear what I said?” Betsy asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Pam said, realizing that her thoughts made her stand stock still next to the table. “I was um… just thinking.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Betsy laughed. “I was wondering if you wanted to do the honors?” she handed Pam a blue and gold colored, cone shaped party hat. “For the birthday boy.”

Pam took the hat, nodding and weakly smiling before walking toward the living room. She found Jim sitting alone watching television, and went to sit next to him. She rubbed his shoulder lightly and kissed his cheek before placing the party hat on his head, wrapping the elastic underneath his chin carefully.

“Okay,” he laughed, adjusting the elastic, “You’re the first and only person to manage to get this on my head.”

She laughed lightly, running her finger over his ear as she leaned on his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to hold her smile, her jaw clenching as she swallowed, “I’m good.”

“Liar,” he said, putting his arm around her. “Tell me.”

The doorbell sounded, stopping their conversation cold as his nephew ran into the living room and into Jim’s lap.

“Hey buddy, can you say hi to Pam?”

“Hi, Pam,” Tyler said shaking Pam’s hand. “Are you Larissa’s friend?”

“No, she’s my girlfriend,” Jim corrected. “Pam, this is Tyler.”

Pam smiled, “How old are you, Tyler?”

“I’m six,” Tyler nodded. “I’m in first grade.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Pam said with a broad smile.

For the next few hours, she became an observer.

She watched Tyler hit Jim in the leg with a plastic bat, watched Jim laugh at the child, and watched him toss Tyler in the air – all with a grin on his face.

She noted how happy Jim was to introduce her to his brothers – she noted that Pete may just be the nicer one, by a hair. That is until they hovered around, showing something secretive to Jim before walking over to the kitchen. Shorty after, the sounds of Betsy shrieking and running after two full grown men with a wooden spoon filled the home.

His niece Vanessa seemed shy, almost introverted, and while Jim tried to keep up with his brothers and Tyler, and Betsy talked to her daughter and daughters-in-law in the kitchen, Pam went to sit with Vanessa on the sofa.

“Hi,” Pam said quietly. “I like your bracelet, it’s really pretty.”

“Thanks,” Vanessa’s face brightened as she toyed with the simple silver x’s and o’s bracelet. “My parents gave it to me. I only wear it on special occasions though.” Vanessa leaned over to whisper, “It’s really something that a boy gives a girl, but I didn’t want to hurt their feelings.”

Pam nodded, “It’s really nice. So, your uncle Jim tells me you play the trumpet?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Right now we’re getting ready for our winter concert.”

“That’s really cool.”

“I really like it. I think I want to do something with music when I grow up.”

“You should definitely do that.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Hey girls,” Larissa said, waving her hands to call them over, “Come upstairs, I have to show you something on Facebook.”

Pam shook her head, “Oh you two go, I’ll stay here and see if your mom needs anything.”

“She’s fine,” Larissa sighed, “We won’t be too long.”

“Yeah, Pam. Come on. You could be like the cool aunt.”

“Hey!” Larissa exclaimed. “What am I?”

“You’re cool too,” Vanessa laughed as they made their way through the living room.

As they walked up the steps, Vanessa turned around and said, “Aunt Joan isn’t very fun.”

Pam shook her head as she climbed the stairs, catching Jim’s eye for a moment, winking at him before he was out of sight.

“Pam, do you have a Facebook?” Vanessa asked.

“Oh, um, no. I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s this really cool website where you post pictures and messages and stuff to your friends. You should sign up. Oh, let’s sign you up now.” Larissa said excitedly. “Then we can be Facebook friends. And you can tell me when I need to kick my brother’s ass.”

“Uh… I don’t know about that,” Pam hesitated. “Not really sure what I’d do with one of these things.”

“I’ll teach you,” Larissa said, offering Pam the seat in front of her computer.

“Okay. You win,” Pam laughed as she gave in. “Really quickly though. I don’t want people wondering where I went off too, you know? I’m sort of new around here.”

“No worries, Pam. My mom loves you. She won’t care. Now here, what’s your email address?”

She couldn’t hold back her smile, even if she wanted to as she filled in her information and created her profile, much to the delight of Vanessa and Larissa, both who immediately became her friends.

And, as she looked between both of them, she couldn’t have been any happier.


**


Dinner happened in some sort of coordinated chaos she had never experienced before.

Tom yelled at Tyler to sit right in his chair.

Joan spilled red wine all over the table cloth, bursting into tears instantly.

Pete then, felt the need to make fun of his wife who turned around and slugged him.

Betsy tried to yell over everyone to make sure that Pam was eating enough.

Gerald tried to make give a toast, muttering that he’d, “wait until the holidays,” when no one would quiet down.

Jim leaned in to whisper in her ear, apologizing for the disaster his family was causing.

She just laughed and shook her head as she thought, if she could choose her family, pick it out of a lineup like you can pick out a car, this is the family she would choose, hands down, every time.

She just hoped, for his sake that Jim didn’t wind up with a face full of chocolate cake once they reached dessert – with so many arms and hands across the table, it became a very real concern.

They managed to survive dinner, dessert and gift giving without injury or any other major disasters.

As they left for the night, Betsy hugged Pam and said, “We hope to see you soon, dear.”

“Yeah,” Jim chimed in, “We were thinking of coming by next week to help dad close up the garden before it gets cold.”

“That sounds great,” Gerald agreed, shaking Jim’s hand. “Pam, I guess we’ll see you next week.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Let me know if I can bring anything.”

“How about that wonderful casserole you brought us last week?”

“Oh, great, I’ll do that,” Pam grinned and waved goodnight.


**

She had so much to say, but during the ten minute drive from his parent’s house to his apartment, she sat and stared out the window, collecting her thoughts.

All of them good.

They walked into his apartment, changing into pajamas and settled themselves on his couch.

“So, you’re kind of quiet. Everything okay? No one bugged you, right?” he asked, slight concern laced his voice.

“No, everything was really perfect. Your niece is so sweet. I didn’t even notice your brothers, and their wives are nice.”

“Eh, Marcy’s okay. Joan is kind of a chore.”

“I like them.”

“Okay,” he said. “But hey, what was with you before they got there?”

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

“Okay, it’s either nothing or I don’t have to worry.”

She shrugged, overwhelmed by a need to cry and a need to not cry. “I um … your mom said something and I just …”

“What did she say?” he asked protectively.

“Nothing bad… I mean it was just something she said in passing that just made me think. About last year on your birthday, you didn’t come home.”

“Hey, I thought we were done with that? It’s in the past, remember?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I know. I just had this image of you all alone on your birthday. And then another image of you not so much alone on your birthday. And either way, not such good images in my head.”

“Hey, come here,” he said, pulling her into his lap. He caught a stray tear from her cheek as she laid her head on his shoulder. “Last year sucked. It did. Big time. But you have to know by now, that this, right now, the two of us here right now. It’s everything I could ever have wanted or dreamed of. That was just one birthday last year. And I completely forgot about it already.”

She sighed and plucked at his t-shirt, “I wish I was there.”

“Me too, trust me.”

“Happy birthday,” she said, kissing the hollow of his throat, “I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I love you too,” he whispered before capturing her lips with his.

The only thing she had left to wish for was that this would last a lifetime.

.

.




DISCLAIMER: Nothing’s mine, as always.




Fifteen Months


November 2007



As the early morning light etched its way into the bedroom, mixing with the darkness of the room to create shadows, she held her gaze on him as the light slowly illuminated his features. She wondered, as she lay still, enjoying the serenity of the moment, if she was doing enough for him.

Does he know how happy he’s had made her, for the past six months and the times before when they skated along the edges of friendship? Did he realize that she thinks about him exactly thirty times an hour, every hour of every day?

Could he sense how safe she felt, nestled each night in the crook of his arm, the sound of his heart beat lulling her to a peaceful sleep? Could he hear his own voice in her head, encouraging her? That while she was in her class, and doubts seeped into her consciousness, she heard his voice telling her she could do this – no matter if it was a little class in a little community college.

She wondered if he knew that every single time he looked at her, touched her, kissed her and made love to her, that the butterflies in her stomach went into overdrive, that she truly loved him, valued him and everything that he is. And, she loved him just as much as he loved her.

She hoped that he felt her passion for him, felt that with every breath she took, with every sigh, laugh and tear that she was his, he was hers and they were in this game called life, together.

There were things about him that drove her insane – how he would leave a cup in the sink for days, how he was a little too selfless sometimes and sometimes a little too childish. But the things that she loved about him far outweighed any of the other things. Like how he brought her tomato soup the day she got sick a few weeks ago. Or how he’ll call her on the nights they don’t spend together, just to say hi and then end up watching television together while on the phone. And how he was still the same person she met, five years ago, still her best friend, still the one person that she had the most fun with.

They were still learning how to not get in one another’s way. They were figuring out how to be independent in a relationship, while being involved completely in the other’s life.

She vowed, six months ago, hours before he came back into her life with a smile and a question, that if she were ever lucky enough to be in the position she found herself currently in, in his bed, his home and his arms, she would make sure he knew how much he meant to her.

As he began to wake, she wondered if she was doing it right, if he knew how high on a pedestal he really stood in her mind.

And as his eyes opened, his chest rose as he inhaled, his arms went around her in a tight hug, she hoped she could find new words to express what she felt for him, so he would know, without a doubt, that he was meant to spend the rest of his life with her.

She brushed her hand over his shoulder, kissed his cheek and smiled. “Good morning,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. She adjusted herself so her head rest next to his and she placed a kiss to his temple, lingering there for a moment.

“Morning,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

She shivered slightly at the depth of his voice, loving the way it sounded, so rich and raspy in the early morning. She smiled, lifted her head and gazed at him as she drew her finger across his forehead, her grin stretching when he closed his eyes and sighed.

“What?” he quietly asked, his eyes still closed, his lips still set in a smile.

“You changed my life,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, her palm touching on the other. “Six months ago, today.”

The sun fully illuminated his bedroom now; she could feel the warmth of the rays against her closed eyes, the heat of his touch as he hovered over her, kissing her excruciatingly slowly, molding her to him and holding her face when he kissed her lips. She could hear the love in his breath next to her ear as he moved within her. With each gasp and moan, she fell more completely in love with who he was, and who he would be in her future.

**

She laid her head on his chest, her leg encircling his underneath the blankets and her fingers ran small circles on his ribcage.

He brushed her hair with his hands and kissed the top of her head, taking a deep breath before saying, “You’ve changed mine too.”

They weren’t the most nostalgic couple, she knew. The beginning of their relationship was filled with rehashing things and clearing the waters between them. But this morning as they lay quietly in his bed, taking their time starting their day, she couldn’t help but reminisce to herself of how far they had come and what came before, as they held one another.

“We should probably get ready,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.

“Ready?”

He laughed, “Yeah, you know. Shower, get dressed, see the world.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, leaning into him more. “Maybe we can stay here. I’ll cook something for us and we can just stay in today.”

“Ah,” he said, clearing his throat, “see that sounds amazing. But, we have somewhere to be in a few hours.”

“Where’re we going?” she asked, nipping her teeth on his earlobe.

“That’s a secret.”

“You have to tell me.”

“Technically, the only thing you need to know is that we’re leaving here at three, you need a toothbrush and an overnight bag.”

“You’re telling me this now,” she peered at the nightstand clock. “Five hours before we have to leave?”

“Yeah, well. I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said quietly. “I thought it’d be really fun to go on one of those dinner cruises.”

She stared at him with wide surprised eyes and a slack jaw. She tried fruitlessly to speak, but the only thing she could manage was to shake her head as he continued.

“The closest one is in Philly, so we’ll be going on the Spirit of Philadelphia. Dinner. Dancing. Wine. And they promise an incredible view.”

“Really?” she asked, feeling the excitement inside her bubble up. “A dinner cruise?”

“I think that’s what I just said, yes,” he quipped. “And I didn’t know if you wanted to make the two hour drive back home afterward, so I reserved a room at a nearby hotel.”

“Oh my god,” she instantly put her arms around him and put her lips to his. “Oh my god you’re so … there are no words for what you are.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I can’t wait,” she grinned, kissing him once more before hitting his shoulder with her hand. “What am I going to wear?”

He rolled his eyes and laughed, “Whatever you have is fine.”

“No… no I have to go get something nice.”

“Well,” he said, staring at her frozen expression, “You’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t move.”

“Oh, now you’re rushing me,” she chided, playfully grazing his arm with her hand as she nestled her head next to his.

“No, just observing that the panic in your ‘I need something to wear’ is a direct contradiction to your position right now,” he laughed, lifting her hand and kissing it lightly.

“You’re so incredible,” she said, her voice thick, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. “I wish there was another way to say I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her hand once more, “so much.”


**

“And, seriously, don’t forget your toothbrush. I’m not sharing mine,” he said as she gathered her overnight bag and made her way to the door.

“Really? You’ll kiss me, but you won’t share a toothbrush.”

“It’s a mental thing.”

She laughed and shook her head before stepping into his embrace. “See you in a few hours.”

“Yeah, if we get there early enough we can check into the room before we go to the dock.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she nodded, pressing her head into his chest as her arms tightened around his waist.

“Okay,” he laughed, giving her arms a squeeze. “It’s only a few hours.”

“I know, I know. I’ll miss you,” she said, smiling and resting her chin on his chest.

“I’ll miss you too,” he said before kissing her lightly.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He took her bag and walked her to her car. Once she was behind the driver’s seat, he poked his head through the opened window and kissed her cheek as she started the car. “Careful driving.”

“I will. See you in a little bit.”

As she drove away, she watched briefly as he walked to his door, stopped at his doorway, raised his arms up to the top of the door and tapped it a few times before walking back inside.


**

She hadn’t noticed that she was still smiling as she walked quickly through the evening dresses section of Boscov’s, until her cheeks started aching. The entire fifteen minute drive to the mall, she drew up in her head exactly what she wanted to wear. She even stopped at the hair salon, making an appointment for them to do her nails, hair and makeup done, figuring it would save time since she’d already showered before she left his place.

A realization occurred to her as she rifled through the racks of dresses. She had been in a relationship before, done the whole marking special occasions thing – for the first few years at least. But she never felt the way she currently did. She never put in this much effort, never took the time to stop and do the little things, like get her hair done and have her nails painted or pick out the perfect dress and a little something extra for later.

She realized how much she changed, but she also reminded herself of the things that stayed the same. She still had her wit, her personality and her ways.

There was just one glaring difference between then and now. She was genuinely happy. And, as she paid for the items she picked up, she reveled in it.

And when her cell phone chimed with a text message from him, saying, “I can’t wait to see you again,” she had to take a moment and catch her breath from the giddiness that tidal waved within her.

Happiness, she thought, was the best feeling, ever.

She enjoyed her pampering, completely thrilled with her hair, makeup and manicure – something she’d never done all at once before, and made her way back to her place, changing quickly into her new dress.

Before she noticed the time, he was standing at her door with a bouquet of red roses in his hand. But that’s not what astounded her into open mouthed silence as she stood with her hand on the door.

“Close your mouth. A fly’s gonna get in there,” he said as he placed his hand under her chin. “You look so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her lightly.

She shook her head and brushed her hand over his suit jacket. “You too,” she managed to say.

“Thanks. It is just your average dark blue suit. Matches the tie you bought me.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, which she noted was easier in the higher than usual heels she chose to wear.

“Hmm,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss, “I should wear this color more often, if that’s the reaction I get.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, still enamored by how stunning he looked. She kept her arms around his neck and kissed his chin.

“You have seen me before,” he chuckled, “like four hours ago.”

“I know, shut up.”

“It’ll be a really boring car ride if I do that,” he scratched his chin. “And it’ll get in the way of the games we’re going to play on drive.”

“What games?” she asked, taking the flowers from his hand and bringing them to the kitchen, placing them in a vase of water.

“’Twenty questions’ is probably the easiest. Can’t play truth or dare in a car.”

“Or can you?” she said coyly.

“What did you do with my sweet innocent girlfriend?”

“Oh she’s here, looking at her incredibly hot boyfriend,” she said, running her hands over his suit jacket.

“Well,” his cheeks became pinker, “thank you. And you’re way hotter than I am,” he said, eyeing her from her half pinned up hair with big curls, to the black dress that fell just above her knees.

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek. “Shall we then? I have questions, and they need answers.”

“After you,” he grinned, raising his arm to the side, letting her lead them out of the apartment and to his car.


**


“Okay,” he began as he navigated the car toward the highway. “First question. What one thing can you not live without?”

“You,” she answered instantly.

“I’m not a thing. I said thing,” he laughed. “That’s sweet though, thanks.”

“Whatever,” she said, yanking her hand back before he could kiss it. “Fine. The thing I can’t live without would be … your voice.”

“Well played.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, next question.”

She cut him off, “Nuh-uh, you have to answer your own question.”

“See? This is what happens when you don’t define the rules before you play. Okay. I can’t live without your hand cream.”

“What now?”

“It reminds me of you. And you’ve managed to get its smell everywhere. Couch cushions, pillow cases, my pajama pants.”

“Want me to leave a bottle in your bathroom? You know, for the one night we don’t spend together?”

“Could you? That’d be great,” he laughed. “Okay, your turn. Ask me anything.”

“Why is your blinker still on?”

“Whoops,” he laughed, “Thanks.”

“Okay you go.”

“Cheater.”

“Never,” she said, swatting her hand over his wrist. “It was a valid question.”

“You win. I’ll go again.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” she grinned, scratching her nose lightly as she watched the scenery pass by.

“So, do you think you’d settle down in Scranton? Or would you move somewhere else?”

“Honestly? I love Scranton. I mean, if we decided to you know, move somewhere else then fine, but at the moment, I can honestly say I’d like to stay put.”

“Cool.” She watched him lick his lips to cover a grin. “Me too. Grew up there so it’ll always be home.”

She hadn’t thought the next question all the way through as it spilled across her lips. “How many kids do you want?”

“Two. A girl and a boy,” he answered seemingly without thinking.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Nice. What would you name them?”

“Oh wow. I don’t know. I mean… I think I’d name the boy after his daddy.”

“That’s overrated.”

“Oh hush. I’m sure, though, that I’d name the girl after my great aunt that I was really close with. She passed away a week before my fourteenth birthday.”

“What was her name?”

“Cecelia.”

“That’s pretty,” he said thoughtfully. “What was she like?”

“She was my favorite; she was sweet, really open about everything, very calm about things and a super great person. Anytime we went over to her house, she always had something for us. A toy, a fresh baked cookie, something. And she babysat us a lot. She was the only aunt I had that really took an interest in spending time with us. She took me to art galleries and she helped me paint. She was really cool.”

“Wow. So she gave you your love for art.”

“Yeah, without her I wouldn’t even know the difference between cyan and blue.”

“I’m sorry she’s not here for you anymore.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Do you see yourself doing more with art?”

“We’ll see where the classes take me. I mean, you hear me complain all the time that these teachers aren’t really showing me much about graphic design. I may not waste the money anymore.”

“You could always try some other school, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Maybe after the holidays and the semester ends.”

“Whatever you want, you can do,” he said, his eyes moving quickly again from the road, to her and then back to the road.

“Thanks.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “Which day is bigger in your family, Christmas eve or Christmas day?”

“Christmas day. You?”

“Same thing.”

“Hmm. Well, we could split it, half the day by my parents, the other half by yours and they can just deal,” he shrugged.

“They really can just deal,” she giggled. “Or we could visit one the day before and spend the whole day with the other the next day.”

“Sounds fair. So… what else don’t I know about you?”

“Eh … a few things, but I think we can skip them for now.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Just, irrelevant stuff that we can talk about another time.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded.



**


From the moment they stepped onto the boat, she felt like she walked into a scene from an epic romance movie. White cloths sat atop round tables, each table seated two people, candles in the center of the tables flickered between wine glasses. Lush drapery hung around the bandstand, and waiters wore tuxedos, white gloves, and carried a white cloth on their arm.

They were seated and instantly greeted by their waiter, who handed them menus and a wine list.

She saw the look that ran across his face as he scanned over the names of wines and she knew it was coming, instantly covering her mouth as she waited for it.

And there it was. He turned to the waiter and very seriously asked, “Do you have any wine made from beets?”

She held the laughter in as best she could, feeling her cheeks warming as she tried to avert her eyes from the shocked look that the waiter wore on his face.

“Sir,” the waiter cleared his throat, “we only have the wines featured on this list.”

“Ah, well, bring us your best white,” Jim said in a proper tone, “unless the lady would like a red to match her pretty cheeks.”

She widened her eyes, managing to swallow the laugh that was caught in her throat.

“White wine it is. Thank you, sir.” Jim nodded as the waiter walked away shaking his head.

“You’re horrible,” she gasped, wiping her eyes. “He’s probably going to do bad things to our food now.”

He shrugged, “These things just come to me, I don’t plan ‘em,” he grinned broadly.

“This is really nice,” she said softly, her eyes surveying the room full of couples leaning on one another on the dance floor. She was sure she should know what melody the band played, but sadly she also knew she wasn’t as cultured as she should be.

“Nice music,” he said, “though, I couldn’t tell you what song it is.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling relief set in, “good, I don’t either. I was just thinking that actually. Do you read minds?”

“Just yours,” he smiled and gestured toward the dance floor. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, placing her napkin back atop the table and taking his hand, noting that it shook under her palm slightly. “Nervous?” she asked, leaning into his side as they walked.

“It’s just,” he bent down to whisper, “it’s our first dance, ever. Don’t want to disappoint.”

“There’s no way that could ever happen.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling as he snaked one arm around her waist, holding her hand in his close to his chest.

She whispered, “Yeah,” as she closed the distance between them, letting him lead her around slowly, his head lowered, touching the side of her temple with his. She moved her arm around the back of his neck and lightly brushed the edges of his hair. And when she inhaled and lowered her eyelids, capturing his scent and listening to the music, she felt as if they were the only two people in the room.

They ate their dinner, dancing some more in between courses. Before dessert, he escorted her outside so they could capture the view of the city lights. She held onto the railing, he stood behind her with his arms surrounding her waist and his head nestled next to hers once again. She knew she could never be any happier than she was in that exact moment.

A cool fall breeze lightly wisped around them, making her shiver slightly. He rubbed his hands over her arms before taking his suit jacket off and placing it around her shoulders, gliding his hand over her arms once more before wrapping her up, pressing himself close to her. She felt his lips lightly brush her neck before he rested his chin over her shoulder.

“This is,” she said, breaking the calm silence, her voice choking a bit, “incredible. Thank you.”

“Thank you too,” he held her tighter and said, “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Her mind reached for something to say, a group of words stung together all encompassing, that could accurately describe just what he meant to her, and that she was his, forever.

Then it occurred to her that it didn’t need to be a great ovation, just because they were being extravagant this evening, it couldn’t take away from their truer simplicity.

She spoke into the cool night air before her. “You know, this whole day has been wonderful. I really love all of it,” she turned in his arms and looked at his bright smiling face. “I think though, in May, maybe we can do something more low key.”

He hummed a laugh, “You mean, like Chinese takeout and some DVD’s?”

“Exactly. I think that would be perfect.”

“Hmm,” he muttered, kissing her forehead. “Perfect, indeed.”

.

.



Fifteen Months


December 2007




A ritual, she called it. He distinctly remembers her saying earlier in the week, “Jim, don’t worry. We’ll start our own ritual,” when neither set of parents would bend and have their Christmas dinner the day before. So they decided that they would be visiting the Beesly’s for dinner and then seeing the Halpert’s for dessert time. The endless driving, the gifts, the large volumes of food, that was something the both looked forward to and dreaded at the same time.

But all of that would happen in some sort of coordinated chaos tomorrow.

Today, they woke up early, put on their boots, hats and coats and trudged through the snow to buy a Christmas tree for his apartment.

Finding a dry one in all of the snow – that was a challenge, and one they took very seriously. Because, he pointed out as they drove from one place to another, neither one would want a sopping puddle of melted snow to clean up.

He also distinctly remembers asking her, “Hey, Pam, do we need anything else before we go back home?” and he clearly heard her say, “No, we’re good.”

With the driest tree they could find firmly planted in its stand and sitting in his living room, he sat on his couch and changed his socks to ones that weren’t soaked.

That’s when she walked out of his bathroom and said, “So, where are your ornaments?”

“I don’t have any, why?”

“We can’t have a naked tree, Jim. We need ornaments.”

“I just said do we need anything else? And you said no,” he said flatly.

“I thought you meant like milk or something.”

“Naked tree it is. Or… I could look around for some paper. We could cut out shapes and just tape them to the tree.”

“Put your boots back on, we’re going to Target.”

“But I just,” he pointed to his feet and sighed loudly. “Let’s be different. Let’s defy the laws of Christmas and not put ornaments on the tree. We’ll call it our very own organic Christmas. Because there weren’t ornaments on a tree in a manger.”

“But,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “What’re we gonna tell … people, years from now, when we point out ornaments, and they’re like oh, what was your first Christmas like. And we tell them well our first Christmas we didn’t have ornaments on our tree.”

“What people might these be?” he asked, bending down to put on his boots, grimacing as the moisture inside seeped into his socks.

“Little … people. The point is no naked tree. We need something sentimental.”

“What’re we going to find at Target that’s sentimental.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, “It’s not sentimental now. It will be,” she clenched her jaw, “ten years from now.”

He tilted his head, trying to hide his amusement with pursed lips. “Well, then you better make sure that our ki – small people…”

“Little people.”

“Sorry, little people. Just make sure that they know that you made their… tall…person, go out twice, in the snow, when I specifically said, hey Pam, do we need anything else.”

“Oh my god, say it one more time. I’ll go myself.”

“No way are you driving in this weather.”

“Oh good, you still love me.”

“Yeah, lucky for you,” he motioned toward the door. “Let’s go. And when we’re sitting by the fireplace reminiscing with these … little people, can I be the greatest person who ever walked the planet?”

“Of course. Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her cheek as they walked gingerly through the snow to his car. “I love your sarcasm. It suits you. Goes with your hoity scarf.”

“Hey, be nice to me. I told you it’s not a hoity scarf, it’s from the Gap.”

“I so am being nice. I was complimenting you and your wardrobe,” he grinned, flinching as her hand landed in the middle of his coat covered stomach.


**


“Now, you realize we’re about to walk into a store on Christmas Eve, right?” he asked as they drove into the fuller than normal parking lot.

“What’s your point?”

He paused and pursed his lips before saying, “That’s generally … my point.”

She rolled her eyes, “I know, I know. I’m not insane, I swear,” she laughed, getting out of the car, almost slipping on some slush.

“Pam,” he laughed, putting his arm around her as they started walking, “Pam, Pam, Pam. I know my girlfriend is insane. Who else would spend years torturing a co-worker, and then want to willingly stay on said co-worker’s beet farm.”

“That’s totally different, it doesn’t count,” she shook her head and went to get a shopping cart.

“Oh, my dear, it so, so counts. You’re certifiable. It’s one of the reasons I won’t let you walk with a scissor. That, and you fall a lot.”

She grinned, “Okay quippy, let’s shop.”

They walked with purpose toward the holiday section and began looking carefully at the items that were left on the shelves. “Slim pickins, here,” he said, holding a small candy cane ornament.

“Yeah, but we can make the most of it,” she said, holding a box of green and red ball ornaments, “we could draw on these, jazz them up a bit. We just need some glue and sparkles.”

“That, ma’dear, is a great idea. I could turn one of them into a baseball.”

“Okay, cool. See? We can be sentimental.”

“For the little people,” he winked as he put the box in the cart.

“Exactly.”

He shook his head lightly and laughed as he turned to the other side of the aisle. “You know, this stuff is pretty cute.”

“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that. They’ll revoke your man card.”

“Oh, believe me, men decorate.”

“Oo-kay, if you say so. I mean, I’m impressed that I even got you to come here. So you do get bonus points. But I know you’re just doing it to make me happy and have no interest in this whatsoever.”

“Words hurt, Pam,” he pouted. “I’ll have you know, I’m looking forward to taking these things home and decorating our asses off for the rest of the day. And then, we’re going to build a snowman, make hot chocolate, sing Christmas carols and dance in the living room.”

She gawked at him with her mouth opened and her eyes wide. “You can’t seriously actually want to do all of that.”

“Why not?”

“Cause … I … never mind.”

“Oh, you underestimate me, my young lass.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a bet,” he said, placing some other ornaments into the cart. “We’ll divide the tree in half and see which one of us is better at decorating.”

“That’s subjective.”

“Fine, my sister can be the judge then. She’s impartial. She likes us both. We’ll take a picture and ask her tomorrow.”

“Okay, you’re on,” she putting her hand in the air. “May the best half tree win.”

“You are so much fun,” he said, lifting his hand to high five hers, “I love it.”

“So are you,” she smiled. “Should this whole decorating half a tree business be a yearly thing?”

“Sure. I think the little people are gonna love it.”

“Okay,” she said, trailing behind a step as he wheeled the cart down the aisle.

“No cheating though. You can’t butter them up with your home made cookies and cupcakes,” he said, not turning around.

“Yeah,” she said airily, biting her lip and grinning, “yeah.”


**


He watched her with something close to awe while she placed the last raisin on the snowman, completing its smiling mouth.

“Did you get twigs?” she asked, glancing up as he stood next to her while she knelt in front of their creation.

“Yeah, here,” he said, kneeling next to her and carefully putting the twigs on the sides, giving their snowman arms. “We did well.”

“Yep, we did.”

They stood, arms seemingly instinctively folded around the others waist as they smiled at one another.

A light snow started to fall once again, flakes falling and melting on her nose and glazing his hat. He felt her shiver and pulled her closer to him, kissing her warmly. “We should go in. Before you get pneumonia and we have to cancel our trip to Vermont.”

She sighed and tilted her head toward the snowman. “He needs a name.”

“Hmm… how about … Frostzilla?”

“Oh my god,” she laughed loudly, “what is that?”

“Well, he’s small, hence the name that is the direct opposite. And he’s a snowman. Like Frosty.”

“The inner workings of your mind fascinate me,” she gawked.

“Oh, believe me. There’s more up here that you still haven’t seen.”

“Uh-huh. Like what? Oh,” she said, shaking him slightly, “Like that card you keep saying you don’t have but I know you do?”

He rolled his eyes, “You won’t let that one go, will you.”

“Not until you show it to me.”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, motioning his head toward the door. “We’ll see. I want hot chocolate. And you’re freezing. Your nose is all red.”

He took her hand, shaking the snow off of her glove with his own and led her inside. Once they had changed into drier, warmer clothes, they put up water for hot chocolate and began taking ornaments out of boxes, dividing them equally. They situated themselves in the living room with their decorative supplies and steaming mugs and he turned on his laptop, choosing his holiday themed playlist.

“I did this holiday song playlist,” he said, pointing and clicking, “a few days ago.”

She smiled, “Aw, you’re like almost a girl.”

“Why must you mock me?”

“It’s who I am.” She widened her eyes guiltily at his pout, “Oh come on, I was kidding. It’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m not giving you your gift now. Forget it.”

She crawled the short distance and put her arms around him, “You don’t mean that,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his jaw line. “I love you,” she said.

“Blah blah blah, get to work,” he laughed, “We have a naked tree here.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, punctuating her words with a kiss to his cheek before moving back to her pile.

He shook his head, grinned and muttered, “I love you too, and your mean streak.” That earned him a Christmas ball thrown at him. He held it up and retorted, “Case in point,” before tossing it back to her.

When she picked up another ornament, rearing her hand back, she shrieked as he leapt forward and all but tackled her to the carpeted floor, both laughing wildly as he landed on his back with her head falling into his chest.

Her arms wrapped tighter around his waist as she hoisted herself to rest more completely on him, her body shaking with laughter. “This,” she said between gasps, “can’t be a yearly thing.”

“You started it, I might add.”

“You called me mean.”

“Aw,” he laughed, running his hand over the side of her face, “you’re not mean.” His voice became serious, “It’s just fun. Bonus points for the throw. You should coach little league.”

She put her head on his shoulder, placing another kiss under his earlobe.

After a few quiet moments, with nothing but the sound of holiday music filling the room, mixing with the sound of their light kisses, she said, “Thank you.”

“Hmm? For what?” he asked.

She placed a kiss to his nose, her eyes lined up with his. “For making this a day I’ll never forget. Ever.”

“It’s definitely something to share with those little people, huh?”

“Yeah, minus the whole making out on the living room floor.”


**


It took an hour to decorate their sides of the tree, humming along to music and sharing glue and sparkles almost effortlessly. They shared Christmas stories from years past, of when they were children and he got his first bicycle and she received her first art set.

As they stood back, admiring their work, he held one final ornament in his hand and instructed her to close her eyes as he walked toward the tree.

She obliged and shared one final story as she held her hands over her face. “Last Christmas I didn’t do anything. My parents wanted me to come over, but I just couldn’t do it.”

He placed the ornament in the center of the tree and walked over to stand in front of her, gently taking her hands away from her face and placing his over her cheeks. His eyes roamed her face, suddenly saddened by her reminiscence. “That,” he said softly, “is never going to happen, ever again,” he said, punctuating his words with a sweet kiss to her lips. “Look,” he moved to the side and pointed to the ornament.

He was sure the glowing smile on her face could light up a room as she stepped closer to the tree, running her finger lightly over the words he had written in glue and covered with sparkles.

“Our first Christmas, 2007,” she read, her voice filled with emotion. She turned to him, wiped a tear from her cheek and hugged him around his waist, gazing up to him. “It’s perfect,” she smiled. “Perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He kissed her once more before she could finish her protest.

Taking her hand in his, he wound his other arm around her waist, and they began dancing slowly in the center of his carpet in their sock covered feet, beaming at one another..

“I think we’ve done everything on your checklist,” she said as he twirled her around.

“Yes, I think we did. Should we do gifts now?”

“Yeah,” she said excitedly.

“Okay, you open yours first.”

“No, you go first,” she said, squeezing him in a hug before letting his hand go. She walked toward her overnight bag. “Here,” she said, handing him a neatly wrapped, two box gift.

He moved to sit on the couch and tore off the wrapping paper so quickly she let out a giggle as she sat next to him. “One would’ve been more than enough.”

“Shush,” she waved her hand.

From the top box, he took out a black baseball cap with ‘Callaway Golf’ written across the front.

“See? Now you’ll fit in, whenever you finally schedule that Golf sales call with that big potential client.”

“This is so great,” he said, grinning wide. “Thank you so much,” he put the cap on. “How’s it look?”

“So cute,” she nodded. “I love it on you.”

“Thanks,” he said, hugging her.

“There’s more.”

He opened the second box, pulling out a dark and light blue striped polo shirt. He took it out and held it up on his chest. “Looks good, thanks,” he said genuinely.

“It’s your best color.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that at some point,” he laughed. “Thanks, a lot, this is perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Okay, your turn.” He took his gift with him, grinning as he walked toward his room. Less than a minute later, he returned with his own neatly wrapped box. “Before you open the gift though, there’s something I need to give you. But you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

She looked at him in confusion, “Why would I get mad?”

“Well, because. Here,” he said, handing her a card, “read this.”

She lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out a card. On the front was a picture of a snowman, and scrawled underneath, the words Merry Christmas. She could feel the goose bumps covering her arms as she opened the card.

Christmas 2005

Dear Pam,

Merry Christmas. I hope you have a great holiday and I hope you like the things I’ve put in your teapot.

I know this is going to sound out of the blue. Or maybe it won’t. Maybe you see it too. Or maybe you don’t, maybe I’ve done such a good job of denying it to myself that you don’t know.
But just so we’re on the same page. Because you’re my best friend and I can’t keep things from you.

I’m in love with you, with everything you are and I’d never change a thing about you. I wish I could put into words all that you mean to me, but just know that I love every single thing about you.

I hope that you feel the same way. I also hope that, if you don’t, if we can still be friends.

Because I want you in my life, either way. I just hope it can be more.

Love always,
Jim.

A million thoughts swirled in her mind, but the only constant was the voice telling her to stand up and hug him until her arms went numb – which she did, once her legs stopped shaking. And she wasn’t completely sure why she was so taken aback by the card. She had always thought it said something big. But this, for some reason, shook her a bit. And as she buried her face into his shirt, reveling in the feeling of his hands running over her back, she couldn’t think of one thing to say to him that could equally measure what the card simply said.

She looked up at his apprehensive face, brushed her hand over his cheek and stood taller on her tip toes for him to kiss her.

They had kissed an inordinate amount of times, this she knew. But this kiss was different than any other one they had shared. She’d never felt his arms around her so strongly before, nor had she ever felt the fire in her belly burn instantly the second their lips met. And as they melted to the floor as gracefully as possible as their hands flew over the others body, discarding articles of clothing faster than they ever had, she knew one thing. She would forever save that card, and show it to their children every year. So they could learn from their parents mistakes.


**

They lay wrapped in a blanket on his couch, she laying across his body while he ran his fingers over the curve of her spine.

She laughed, kissed his shoulder and whispered, “This definitely should be a ritual.”

“Yeah. Definitely can’t tell the kids about this one, though.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes, muffling a laugh in the hollow of his throat as she kissed him there. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he said, his voice strained, “Hey, you didn’t open your gift.”

“It’s okay,” she said, cuddling further into his body,” All I need is you.”

“So cheesy,” he reached to kiss her cheek, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, resting her head next to his, she closed her eyes as they both drifted off to sleep, with the music still playing softly in the background and the snow lightly falling outside of his window.

No matter what came after this, what the unforeseeable future brought for them, and no matter how many children they eventually had, he knew in this very moment that this day would always be his favorite day of any week, month or year.



.

.




Fifteen Months


January 2008



It started out as a moment that froze itself in time. She sat next to her bedroom window, watching each distinct flake pass by on its way to the ground below. She sketched. Dark limbs of trees etched on her page, smudged, highlighted by snow on the yellow paper. It was days like today, when she knew from the moment she woke that it would be a day to remember, to steal it all away in her mind for safe keeping.

He inched closer, his solidness greeting her back, his arms winding their way around her waist, his moist, soft lips leaving feather light kisses on her neck. It was enough to make her drop her sketch pad, colored pencils falling to the floor in a rainbow of color that matched the lights behind her eyes as she kissed him.

With every pass of his hand over the small of her back, it felt as if it were the first time they’d touched. When he stared at he, she could see the desire he had for her, the hope he had for them, and the little fragile soul that begged her silently to love him, always and forever.

These were moments, often occurring in the stillness of the early morning, that she would remember on harder days, like yesterday. They were moments that kept her from falling apart at the judgment her distant relatives belittled her with last night, at her second cousin’s wedding reception. Scornful looks and whispered gossip filled her ears as she held firm to his hand and his suit jacket as they danced.

She paid no attention to any of it, concentrated on his eyes, his lips and his hands, remembered how he touched her, how he loved her. Reminded herself that those people were unsupportive, would never understand the depths of which she loved the man that stood next to her.

She was well aware that he heard them too, that he felt some slight, not at her, but slight at the mention of events in her life that were two years old – long over and dealt with.

And now, as he stared down to her, his fingers toying with the edge of her nightshirt, she held his gaze and placed her palm on his cheek, kissing him solidly, meaningfully, and effortlessly.

She whispered, her eyes stinging slightly, “Those people don’t know how you make me feel.”

“How do I make you feel?”

“Like I’m precious to you. Like I matter. They’ll never understand.”

“I don’t care what they think,” he buried his head next to her, his breath tickling her ear.

“I can’t go back,” she swallowed the sob that threatened to escape. “I’ll never be able to do this without you.”

“You’ll never need to,” he uttered, his cheek pressed against hers.

It was in that moment that the last bit of the bad parts left from the past five years melted with the snow that trickled down her window – taking last night’s cruelness with it.

Her trains of thought were blurred as he carefully and slowly loved each inch of her body, almost methodically, and far more intensely than he ever had before.



As they lay together, arms and legs entwined and foreheads joined, they both rested their eyes and listened to the snowflakes tap on her window.

The feeling came to her as he brushed light kisses to her lips – an overwhelming sense to take care of him, to do more than she had been doing already. It was a feeling that, in all the years she had been in another relationship, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she never felt before. She absolutely had to make sure he was taken care of. That his needs were met, that he knew that he mattered more to her than anything else in the world. To be more than his girlfriend.

To be someone he would someday call his wife. His life partner. The mother of his children. The person he would wake up with every morning and fall asleep with every night.

She knew she wanted to be that person to him long ago. And she wasn’t sure why that inclination grew within her tenfold right this very morning. But she vowed to herself that she would see to it that she was everything he needed her to be.

“Because you’re everything I ever wanted,” she whispered aloud, her eyes still closed.

“Had most of that conversation in your head, didn’t you,” he laughed lightly, shaking the bed.

She nodded and opened her eyes. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, whatever it was, I like the way it ended.”

“Good. I mean it.”

“Sounds great to me,” he smiled.

“I know it’s snowing, but let’s go get some grocery. I want to make us dinner tonight.”

“Okay.”

“You’re very agreeable,” she purred, snuggling herself closer to him.

“Only for you.”

“I’m privileged.”

“You are. And so am I. Because I get to do this,” he grinned wickedly before grabbing her around her waist and pulling her to lay on him. “I love you, you beautiful, wonderful woman.”

“I love you too,” she said, lowering her lips to his, her skin once again on fire under his touch.



**


Hours later, once they had thoroughly enjoyed their extended morning in bed, they made their way through the snowy Scranton streets to Wegman’s, scanning aisles for just the right thing to make for dinner and dessert.

“What do you think about lasagna?” she asked, reading the side panel of the box of noodles she held. “Looks simple enough.”

He poked his head over her shoulder and read along. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Okay. We just need … everything on this box and we’ll be good,” she placed the box in their cart and he rolled it down the aisle as they both eyed the products on either side. “We should get some broccoli too,” she motioned toward the fruit and vegetable aisle.

He curled his upper lip in disgust, “No.”

“We should start eating like adults,” she rolled her eyes.

“I choose to be an adult who doesn’t eat broccoli.”

She huffed and laughed, “Fine, we’ll get spinach.”

“That’s worse.”

“Fine. What vegetable will you eat?”

“Uh… potato.”

“Potato it is,” she said, picking up and inspecting the bag of potatoes. “But no fries. Either mashed or baked.”

“Okay, killjoy, when you suggested cooking and eating in, you never mentioned we had to eat healthy.”

She swatted his arm, “Well, I’d like to not kill us prematurely so, we’re eating healthy.”

“Lasagna isn’t healthy, in case you were wondering.”

“It will be when I pick up fat free mozzarella and fat free ricotta.”

“That’s… gross.”

She turned to face him with her hand on her hip and her mouth wide opened. “Did you just call the masterpiece we’ll be making this evening gross?”

“No,” he shook his head innocently, “I said close.”

“Yeah, sure you did.”

“You look so cute right now,” he grinned.

“Uh-huh,” she muttered and turned to walk toward the bagged salad. “You’ll pay for that when we get home.”

“Yeah, she’s crazy, but I’m stuck with her,” she heard him say. She quickly turned to see him laughing along with another shopper.

She tilted her head to the side, pursed her lips and widened her eyes. He walked over instantly, his smile faded instantly as fear crossed his eyes. “Totally kidding, babe,” he leaned over to kiss her cheek, “I’m happily stuck with you.”

“Digging your own hole, Jimmy.”

“Hey,” he pointed, “rule violation.”

She smirked, “You’re too much today.”

“Yeah, you know you like it,” he mumbled in her ear before taking the cart and walking quickly out of the way of her swinging arm.

“Can’t live without it, Jimmy.”

“Okay, truce.”

She giggled. “Fine.”


**

“So,” he said as he chopped garlic, “Valentine’s Day is midweek this year. Should we go away?” Make it special.”

She bumped her hip to his side gently as she stirred tomato sauce. “We’ll make it special. I have an idea,” she smiled.

“Oh. Do tell.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” she said slyly.

“Such a tease.”

“Yeah, you know you like it,” her voice broke into laughter as she said it.

“I vaguely recall saying that a few hours ago. Though, I didn’t turn red as I said it.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

“Just take those days off from work, and leave the rest to me. Detailed instructions will follow.”

“Now I need to know.”

She sighed, “Well, what if we have a four day, clothing optional weekend right here in my apartment.”

“That,” he kissed her temple, “is the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?”

“Without a doubt. I love your beautiful mind,” he said, squeezing her side.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, no. Thank you.” He inhaled, his face hovering over the pot of sauce that started to slowly bubble. “Where did you learn how to make pasta sauce from scratch?”

“My grandmother taught me, years ago when she would stay at our house for one of her visits. It’s a family recipe. So she needed to share it with me and made me promise I’d share it with my kids.”

“Oh, nice. Smells incredible,” he said, inhaling the aroma once more before beginning to layer lasagna noodles in a white rectangle pan. “I’m doing this right, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s a wrong way to do it, as long as everything gets in there,” she pointed to the pan.

They began alternating noodles, meat, sauce and cheese and soon their dinner was in the oven and they were sipping their first glass of wine. Minutes later, the cheese melted and they were seated at the kitchen table. The lighting was dimmed, lit candles sat in the middle of the table, flickering and slowly melting. He poured wine and she spooned out their dinner.

The happiness and serenity she felt within herself must have been magnified through her, as his grin widened, pausing for a second with a small shake of his head before he began to eat.

Savoring his first bite with closed eyes, he said seriously, “This is the best lasagna I’ve ever had.”

“Thanks. The box gets most of the credit.”

“No, this is like secret family recipe good.”

“Well, it’s probably Ronzoni’s family recipe.”

He shook his head. “No, this is our family recipe now. Add it in with your grandma’s sauce.”

She beamed, her eyes shining. “Thanks.”

He lifted his wine glass, the deep red glinting in the candle light. “To you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, to you. The greatest friend I could ever ask for and the best girlfriend in the world. You are awesome. And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, dabbing the corner of her eye.

He lifted his glass higher and touched the edge to her raised glass before he took a sip. They set their glasses down and stood. She walked into his opened arms, her hands gliding into his hair as they kissed.


**


“What’s on tonight?” she asked, tapping the guide button on the remote. “If nothing looks good, we can put in a DVD.”

“Anything in mind?”

“I sort of can’t get the Wizard of Oz song out of my head.”

“Ah. Somewhere Over the Rainbow?”

“Yep. Tiny lemon drops are melting high above the chimney top, every fifteen seconds in my head,” she laughed.

“How’d that happen?”

“Oh, it’s a very corny and cheesy reason.”

“Okay, well now again, you need to tell me.”

“Well,” she exhaled, “It was last night, with everything that those well… morons were whispering about, I just couldn’t stop thinking all of that darkness is behind me. And that sort of spurred the lyrics… and the more I thought about it again today the more they popped in. So now I’ve got the entire song playing in my ears. And I’m off key and off tempo.”

“Ah, noted. So, put it on.”

“I don’t have it.”

He looked at her in mock horror, “You mean you don’t have a classic like Wizard of Oz in your DVD collection.”

“Nope.”

“Huh,” he said, rubbing his chin, “Maybe I’ll get it for you, for your birthday.”

“Now you ruined the surprise.”

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not the only thing you’re getting,” he said, his voice bouncing off the edges of the nearly empty wine glass.

“Okay you have to tell me what it is now.”

He shook his head and laughed, “No way. I don’t cave so easily.”

She eyed him incredulously, wiggling her eyebrows as her eyes moved over him. “I’ll get it out of you, one way or another.”

“We’ll see,” he winked.

“Come on, I told you my stuff.”

“That’s different. Those were thoughts and stuff. This is a gift.”

“Touché.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She nestled her head onto his shoulder and draped her arm across his waist as he went through the guide. The scrolling slowed as their light brushes of their hands grew in intensity.

The remote long since forgotten, she slowly made her way to straddle his hips as their hands searched one another for what felt like agonizing hours on end.

Breathlessly red faced and disheveled, she slowly pulled back to look at him, her hands cupping his cheeks, making his lips pucker. She moved her head from side to side slowly as she studied his features.

“I know,” he whispered.

“So much.”

“Me too.”

She gracefully stood, shut the television, took his hand in hers and walked to her bedroom. There wouldn’t need to be anymore talking until tomorrow, she decided as they undressed one another slowly, once again tangling themselves in the bed sheets.

.
.

.




Fifteen Months



February 2008



If there really were such a thing as Cloud Nine, he was sure, most definitely positive that he now resided on Cloud Ten. He had never in his entire life been as happy to just be with someone, just sit around sharing the same air space with someone as he was right in this moment, sitting in her kitchen eating cereal on their very first Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t fathom a time where she looked more beautiful – her hair in a messy ponytail, her glasses sliding down her nose and her raggedy robe wrapped loosely around her, the sleeves almost engulfing her hands.

There was never a time in all of their nine months together and close to six years of the best friendship he had ever known, that he didn’t want to propose. But in this moment, that feeling, the deep desire to get down on one knee and promise her forever and a day, to tell her that she was the most important person in his life was more prevalent than it ever had been right in this moment.

But he also knew he needed to wait. He needed her to come to her own realizations with her God given talent. He wanted so much for her to accomplish her goal, to stop holding herself back and really tackle her dreams.

Because, he thought, the only way for him to accomplish his dream of one day adding wife and mother of his children to the things she is to him, the only way he could do that, was for her to grasp her own dreams first. There would be no other way for him to know that she wasn’t short changing herself, or letting him hold her back. The prospect of marriage and commitment held her back once, and he refused to let himself be the second person to do that to her.

He wanted her to be all that she could and wanted to be. He needed her to know that he would be by her side, wherever she may want to go. But he was also well aware that when pushing her too hard wouldn’t make her move forward, it could only make her fall backward.

All he had to do was seize an opportunity to nudge her, to get her mind’s wheels turning, to get her to see that she could be all that she wished for and be a part of his life all in the same turn.

As he thought of a way to move her in the right direction, he felt her bare toe tap his calf.

“Hmm?”

“I was just saying … are you okay? You’re like a mile away.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. Just sort of spaced out there.”

“I can tell,” she eyed him suspiciously. “I was saying, since we’re not doing too much today, and we have these days off from work, I was thinking of maybe working on this project I have to do for class.”

“Oh, yeah,” he enthused, “definitely.”

“Okay,” she grinned, “it won’t be for too long, I just wanted to give something a try.”

“No, take as long as you need. I’m here.”

“You know, you don’t have to do that. You can go buddy up with your friends or something.”

He scoffed, “No way. This is our four-day Valentine’s Day weekend spectacular.”

She giggled, “Nice title.”

“Thanks. I’m trade-marking it.”

“Do that,” she laughed.

“You know I will. I’m sort of attached to you besides the fact that it’s our weekend, so …”

“Oh,” she held her hand to her chest, “You’re so adorably cheesy. I’ve got a cavity.”

“Zip it,” he rose from his chair and kissed her forehead before placing his bowl in the sink. “I’m going to shower.”

“Okay, your stuff is in the cabinet under the sink.”

“You moved it?”

“Yeah, I had to when my mom came over last Sunday. I didn’t need her seeing your Men’s Speed Stick, shaving cream, razor, toothbrush and your very manly body wash.”

“It’s soap, not body wash.”

“It comes out of a squeeze bottle, therefore it is body wash.”

She yelped as he grabbed her robe and pulled her toward him, her stomach bumping into his, “Say it again and I start using regular bar soap.”

“No,” she whined, “I like the way it smells.”

“Then don’t mock it,” he said, his voice low, his face inches away from hers.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, kissing her nose, “you know you will.”

“Yeah, probably,” she tilted her head to the side as his lips captured hers. “You’re my favorite.”

“You’re mine too,” he said, holding his arms around her waist and gazing down to her smiling face.

“Happy first Valentine’s Day,” she said delicately, her eyes shining.

He grinned and laughed lightly, almost disbelievingly, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”


**


When he stepped out of her bathroom after his shower, he fully expected to find her hard at work on her laptop, designing away. He watched as she sat on her couch, feet planted firmly on the coffee table, a cup of tea in one hand and her laptop balanced on her legs – staring intently at a website. He shifted his feet quietly; his eyes squinted, trying to focus on the screen as she moved the page up slowly, her head tilted to the left like she always did when she was deep in thought.

Even though he couldn’t see the detail, it was the prettiest dress he had ever seen, white and wonderful and everything he ever imagined she would wear. His mind fast forwarded itself, picturing her walking toward him in the dress that was displayed on the screen, colorful flower petals scattered on a white runner, family and friends flanking her on either side of the aisle. He knew it would be perfect, he always thought that, even before. Now, witnessing her doing this, something he hadn’t seen her do in years - when it wasn’t him, and she wasn’t his – it made him feel weightless.

As he stood, watching her point and click as she examined the dress more closely, he had to remind himself of his mission. It would happen, one day soon, when his goal to make her achieve her dreams of artistry were accomplished. He planned to do it in grand fashion, something sentimental, something that would tie their past, present and future together with one question.

He walked backward, toward the bathroom, his conscience slugging him in the gut for what could be termed as spying on his girlfriend. He cleared his throat and walked back toward the living room and asked, “Hey so should I put that stuff back under the sink? In case your mom comes by again?”

She instantly closed the website and the lid to her laptop and turned her head toward him. “Uh, it’s okay. I don’t think she’s coming by this weekend. And if she does, you’ll be here, so…”

“The cat will be effectively out of the bag, huh?”

“Pretty much. I know, it’s dumb but … you know. It’s like how you never want to think of your parents as doing anything other than coexisting together? That’s pretty much how I feel about her finding out that you and I do more than coexist. If that makes any sense.”

He mulled her words, his eyes lifted toward the ceiling as he thought. He nodded after a quiet moment, “Yeah, I think I got it. You don’t want her to know that we’re sleeping together.”

“Yes, I could have phrased it like that,” she winked. “I was trying to be lady like.”

“Too late for that,” he tapped her legs that were still propped on the coffee table and sat next to her. “So, how’s the project?”

“Oh, I um… haven’t started it yet. I was replying to an email from Larissa and I got sidetracked.”

“Ah, the drama of a college junior is intense.”

“Stop,” she rolled her eyes, “she was just telling me about this guy…”

“Nope,” he shook his head and held his hands to his ears, “I do not want to know anything about any guy and my sister. Nope.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh yes, I’m serious,” he widened his eyes. “What’d she say?”

“You just said you didn’t want to know.”

“Curiosity.”

“Yeah,” she said dryly, “it killed the cat. I’m not telling you now,” she said indignantly, opening her laptop once again and starting up her project.

“You have to tell me. Because I need to know who’s ass to kick for touching my little sister.”

“Aw,” she muttered, her eyes trained on her computer, “you’re adorable when you’re over protective.”

“Yeah, well. It’s my job.”

“You’re the man.”

“I’m the man,” he laughed.

“She’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

You’re really not telling me?”

“No, I’m not,” she smiled at him before turning back to the computer.

“Fine. What’s the project all about?”

“The professor didn’t really explain it too well, so I’m sort of flying by the seat of my pajamas,” she said, pulling at her pajama pants.

“Okay, blank canvas is always nice.”

“Yeah, except that I’m half getting it and half not getting it. I don’t know,” she paused.

“Well, is it something you want to do as a career? Graphic design?”

“I think so? I don’t know. It’s fun sometimes. But it’s a really competitive field. I don’t think I’m getting what I need from this certificate program to compete with that.”

“So, see how the rest of the semester goes, and if you’re still feeling like it’s not enough then we can look into other schools.”

“We can?”

“Yes,” he held his arm around her shoulder, “we can.”

She kissed his cheek warmly, her lips lingering there as her hand brushed over his hair before turning her attention back to her project.


**

She wasn’t sure what she expected him to be while she worked. Tired, listless, bored, maybe a yawn? Sure, that would have been completely the ‘guy thing’ to do.

But the longer she worked – promising herself that it wouldn’t go over two hours – the more intently he stared at what she was doing, silently, every once in a while he would ask a, “why did you do that, how did you do that,” and her favorite, “would you look at how awesome that is.”

No television played, no music blared. The only sound was of her programs digital pen clicking the digital pad that was connected to her laptop. As she worked, she realized that this was indeed the first time he had ever watched her in her element, doing her thing, creating some tangible thing that may or may not get her anywhere.

The fact that this entire thing could be a pointless journey was stuck to the back of her mind like a post it note. But with each point and click, and with every smile and nod from him, the edges of the sticky parts of the post it started folding downward.

“You know,” she said slowly, her words coming slowly as she rounded an edge carefully on the fake store logo she was trying to create. “I think I’m going to clone you into a miniature Jim. Carry you around with me so you can cheer me on.”

He laughed, his chin brushing her shoulder. “Well, since I’m the only version of me you’re getting, I’ll just have to tell you a thousand more times a day how incredible you are.”

“Stop it,” she murmured, “you’re too much.”

“But you just said you wanted to clone me.”

“I know. Terrible habit of deflecting.”

“Yep, you women do it all the time when you don’t want to seem cocky.”

“Exactly.”

“Hey, so, I know you wanted to hibernate this entire weekend, but what if we go out for dinner tonight?”

She shrugged happily, “Yeah, okay. Where?”

“Hmm… what’re you in the mood for?”

“Honestly, I know we’re supposed to be fancy adults who dine at nice places. But I’m really having a craving for cheese fries and a vanilla milk shake.”

“You seriously would be okay with going to the Glider? On Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Because of the reason I just mentioned?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, before I go along with this,” he eyed her skeptically, “is it an it doesn’t matter because I’m hungry? Or is it an it doesn’t matter because I’m going to pay for not having something better planned from like weeks ago?”

She inhaled and stretched her neck to the side, leaning it on the edge of his shoulder. “It’s I don’t care where we go as long as we’re going somewhere together. Plus, you won’t need to leave to go change clothes, and I can wear yoga pants and a sweatshirt.”

“We’re so classy.”

“Yes, very classy,” she nodded, rubbing her forehead onto the material of his sweatshirt.


**

“You know,” he started fiddling with the edge of the menu as they awaited their waitress, “at some point, you’re going to have to let me take you out for something fancier than a cheeseburger deluxe.”

“Cheese fries and a milk shake,” she corrected. “And no, you don’t need to do that.”

He waved his hand dismissively as the waitress approached. As Chrystal, according to her nametag, spoke, Pam couldn’t help but feel instantly annoyed. It wasn’t the dark brown hair or the clear blue eyes, or her other remarkable resemblance to Karen. It was the fact that Chrystal kept ‘eyeing’ Jim.

As he pointed to what he wanted, some sort of steak with gravy, she hadn’t heard, she watched Chrystal lean in slightly closer than she really needed to. Her smile was plastered on her lips, and her shirt was leaving little to the imagination.

To his credit, his eyes never left his menu. And if they did, he looked directly toward Pam.

So she did what any normal woman would do. She cleared her throat and said, “Honey, did you remember to leave the phone number list with the sitter?”

Ironically, both the waitress and Jim stared at Pam with the same dumbfounded expression. Quickly, Chrystal turned toward Pam and took her order before walking away, promising them their drink orders “as soon as possible,” before scurrying off.

“Wow,” he chuckled, “that, that was pretty awesome.”

“Thank you,” she said dryly.

“What’s the sitter’s name and how much is she charging? Oh… and what’s she watching?”

She tilted her head to the side and smirked. “It was either that or claw her eyes out.”

“Why would you do that? She was perfectly pleasant.”

“Did you see the way she was looking at you? Like you were some piece of meat. Well, nuh-uh, you’re already taken. Lean in closer,” she said, holding herself over the table. When he moved closer, she took his head in her hands and kissed him with every ounce of energy she had.

They ignored the gawking onlookers as they began sipping their newly arrived milk shakes. He lifted his shake cup to hers, metal tapping metal, and said, “Who’s apartment is the sitter in? Mine or yours?”

“Shut up,” she grinned around her straw.

“Bossy and territorial with an excellent imagination.”

“Mm-hmm.”


**


“I can’t believe you haven’t asked for your gift yet,” he said while taking off his coat and shoes.

“I don’t usually ask for gifts.”

“Uh… I guess you don’t remember two years ago then. Phyllis got all those gifts and you got mad at Roy because he didn’t get you anything.”

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

He shook his head as he reached into his overnight bag. “It’s not even like a wall separates our desks. I can hear most, if not all of your conversations.”

“Stalker.”

“Whatever you say. I’m just saying, there are rules to this day and I’m abiding by them.”

“But my birthday’s next month. It was just Christmas. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s just a little something. Here,” he said, handing her a card. “I just wanted you to have this.”

She unfolded it gently and gaped at the paper before her. “What is this?” she asked as she scanned the paper.

“I know we never talked about it but that is my ticket to Australia. Well, it was my ticket. I cancelled the trip, and the fine people at United are giving me until next year to use it.”

“So wait, I don’t get it.

“I know, it’s late. You’re digesting,” he laughed, taking the paper and pointing to the amount of money the ticket cost. “This is how much we can spend, or put towards another flight somewhere else. It just has to be somewhere that United Airlines flies. And it has to be used by the end of next year.”

“So…”

“So, we could use this for something.

“Okay,” she nodded, her mind’s eye seeing what he wasn’t saying. She shook her head and kissed him solidly on the lips. “We should go somewhere warm and tropical.”

“Where ever you want,” he put his arm around her shoulder as they settled in to watch television.

Later during the night, as she watched him sleep, the moonlight lighting up his features, she wanted to ask him so many things. Why he didn’t go to Australia, what he did instead, and what made him want to go there in the first place. As she fell asleep, she decided she didn’t want to know the real answer to those questions, and instead thought about how much she appreciated everything that he was becoming to her.

.
.

A/N—portions of this chapter had to be re-written.



Fifteen Months




March 2008



She wasn’t superstitious, not completely anyway. She wasn’t the type of person to read much into the credo the more you say something untrue, the more it will become the truth, or whatever the correct phrasing was. But for some reason, Jim telling Michael that he was sick, in an effort to once again dodge dinner with he and Jan, made her feel uneasy yesterday.

When he woke up at six this morning, coughing and sneezing and doing something very close to whining, she knew that she hadn’t been over reacting when she stopped by Rite Aid yesterday afternoon to pick up some cold medicine.

She had gotten out of bed much earlier than normal for a Saturday morning and made him tea, toast and a small fruit cup. Quietly impressed with herself for not spilling anything as she balanced the silver tray in her hands while walking to his bedroom, she set it down on the night stand and went to wake him. Her concern grew as she ran her hand over his forehead, grimacing at the heat that radiated from him. She pressed her lips to where her fingers had just grazed and let out an unsatisfied groan.

“Hey,” he mumbled and opened his puffed and swollen eyes.

“You’re hot,” she whispered, running her thumb over his wrist.

“Thank you.”

“Nice. I mean you feel hot. Do you have a thermometer?”

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” she grumbled, “I’ll get you Tylenol anyway.”

“I don’t have that either.”

“I figured as much,” she said over her shoulder as she walked toward her overnight bag, “I got some yesterday. I also got Dayquil and Nyquil, and some cough drops.”

“When did you… get that?” he asked dumbfounded.

“I went to the store after lunch. Something about you sneezing right after you lied to Michael about being sick just didn’t seem right to me.”

Whatever his response would have been was swallowed up in a coughing fit complete with his face turning bright red and his eyes tearing.

“Oh boy,” she sighed as she stood next to the bed, taking pills out of boxes. “That sounds pretty bad. Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

He shook his head no, grunting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I think you should.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said breathlessly. “Plus, you’ve got like half of a pharmacy on my bed right now.”

“It’s like three things. Here,” she handed him Dayquil and Tylenol, “take this.”

“Are you sure I should take both?”

“Are you going to argue with me?”

“No, mom.”

“Oh, Jim,” she kissed his forehead and grinned sardonically. “When you get better, I’m going to kill you for saying that.”

“No you won’t. Because you love me.”

“Mm-hmm,” she muttered, handing him his cup of tea, “take them.”

“I’m fine, really,” he said, rubbing his chin as he swallowed, “we can still go out.”

“You don’t really believe that,” she handed him some toast and set a napkin on his lap.

“I do too.”

“You rubbed your chin. Which means, you’re lying.”

“I’d never lie to you, Pam, really.”

“Then why’d you rub your chin?”

“So you mean,” he bit his toast, crumbs hanging to the corner of his mouth, “there’s some sort of connection to me rubbing my chin, like this,” he demonstrated, “and my speaking the truth.”

“Yeah, that, and your nose is running, you have a fever and you sound like Darth Vader.”

He pouted, “But the suns out. We had plans.”

“I know. But I personally would like you to get better instead of forcing yourself to go out when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” he coughed.

“Really?”

“Really,” he coughed again and took a breath, putting his head back against the pillows. “Really not doing too good. Oh my God my head’s pounding. Make it stop.”

“Aw,” she frowned, crawling next to him. She put her arm around his shoulder, his head instantly resting on her chest. “I know.”

“You shouldn’t,” he coughed once more, setting the remnants of his toast to the side. “You’ll get sick. You don’t have to stay.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t want you catching this,” he sniffled.

She kissed the top of his head. “I’ll make you chicken soup later, and if you feel better this afternoon we can play Play Station, watch some movies, whatever you want.”

“I’m totally ruining your day.”

“No you’re not. Just stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.”

“Thanks.”

“Shh, get some sleep,” she hugged him and ran her hand over his back, feeling the congestion rumble under her fingertips. “You’ll feel better soon.”


**

She spent the afternoon quickly running to the supermarket and returning to his apartment, chopping and sautéing and simmering vegetables and chicken. She’d seen her mother and grandmother make this soup so many times, it had become second nature to her. She quietly moved about his apartment, straightening up his living room and cleaning up the bathroom as the soup boiled away.

Giving the soup a final stir, she took a ladle from the draw and bowls from the cupboard, setting them on the counter. The corner of her eye caught him, standing there with his hair in twelve different directions and a tissue in his hand and a look of shock on his face.

She smiled quickly in his direction, turning her attention back to the stove. “Oh, you’re up. I was just about to check on you.”

“I was thirsty. I thought you’d left.”

“Nope, just made some chicken soup.”

“You made this?” he gaped, peering into the pot.

“I went to the store while you were sleeping and got the ingredients.”

“When you said you were going to make chicken soup, I figured, you know, you’d open a can of Campbell’s.”

“Nope,” she shook her head, ladling soup into shallow bowls.

“You even put in those little meat balls like my mom does.”

“Yeah, it’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

“Wow,” he said after slurping a spoonful of broth. “This is so good.”

“I bought crackers too, if you want. Probably should have some actually,” she stood and walked to the kitchen. “You need something solid in your stomach with all that medicine.”

“Thanks,” he watched her walk back into the living room with wide eyes. “You know, you’re setting a precedent. Next time I get sick I’ll expect the same treatment.”

“Well,” she shrugged running her hand over his back as he sat. “I sort of always imagined doing this,” she kissed his shoulder.

“What?”

“Okay, I know. This’ll sound insane. But… okay, remember that time a few years ago when you called in sick?”

He looked at her in confusion and shook his head. “Huh?”

“It was right after we went on that cruise thing with everyone at work, that end of year thing Michael forced everyone to go to. You called in sick that next Monday, and call me insane, or a horrible person, or whatever. But all I kept thinking about was if you were okay and how I sort of really wished I could take care of you. I remember I literally had to stop myself from leaving work and driving to your place.”

“How am I just finding out about this now?” he gawked, his mouth hanging open.

“Well, you know… I just … I guess there’s no point in talking about it,” she shook her head, her face feeling warmed with embarrassment. “Anyway, what movie did you want to watch?”

He sniffled and wiped his nose, clearing his throat, “You can’t just blow past that, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she deflected.

“Nope. If I have to listen to you boss me around with pharmaceutical company propaganda, I’m going to sit here and listen to you tell me why you didn’t come over that time.”

“It’s not propaganda, it’s called medicine. And, it was a long time ago.”

“I want to hear all about it. I’ve got the time. My girlfriend won’t let me leave my apartment.”

“Very funny,” she said, finishing up her soup. “You don’t want to hear about all the times I wish I would’ve opened my stupid mouth and told you how I felt.”

“I really do, Pam. I really, really do.”

“You’re delirious.”

“I’m most definitely not. I’m going to lie here,” he bent his head down to the head rest, “and you’re going to tell me all about every one of those times.”

“I told you,” she said, setting her bowl down and moving herself to lie next to him, wrapping the blanket around both of them, her head resting next to his. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do. I’m not going anywhere on your orders, so I also happen to have loads of time on my hands. It’ll be nice to know.”

“Fine, but you can’t hate me.”

“Pam, how could I ever do that? You just made me chicken soup. No other woman that I’ve ever dated has taken such amazing care of me the way you do. Now, talk.”

“But I’m supposed to be making you feel better.”

“Oh, it will make me feel better.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“The mind wants what it wants.”

“You’re insane,” she said, feeling his forehead with her hand, “and you’re still warm. I can’t believe I forgot to get a thermometer. I’ll go do that,” she said, moving to get up.

“Nope,” he grasped her before she could move an inch. “I’m good. Don’t leave.”

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes and grinned slightly, sniffling lightly. As she stared at him, gearing herself up for reminiscing she hadn’t let herself do in some time, she couldn’t get over how small he looked. How adorable he was just resting on his couch with his legs in an impossibly uncomfortable stance bent at the knee, his ankles resting on the opposite arm of the couch.

“Do you want to go back to your bed?” she asked.

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“Your cough is getting better.”

“Yeah, we can save the meds for tomorrow, when you get this.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, knowing that the scratchy feeling in her throat was a warning sign of things to come.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he frowned.

“Well, if it’ll make you feel better,” she chided lightly.

“It will,” he grinned. “Come on, it’s meaningless now. You know that.”

“Okay, well there was that time like I said, you were sick and I saw so clearly in my head how I could take care of you. The thing was I still thought you were with that girl, Katy, and I mean … I just agreed to marry someone else, again. So, I mean. It would’ve looked pretty bad. So I stopped myself from even thinking about you that day. And the funny thing is … the more I tried to not think about you, the more I thought about you.”

“Wow. Well, I had the same problem back then, so we’re pretty even,” he said, rubbing his stuffed nose. “What else?”

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “there are a lot of other times. Like the day we went ice skating? I faked not being able to ice skate just so I could hold your hand.”

“I knew it,” his eyes brightened. “I was so going to call you on it, too.”

She laughed, “Yeah. I guess I didn’t do a good job of hiding it, huh.”

“Sometimes you did.”

“I remember too, that take your daughter to work day, you were so good with all the kids and I was terrible. I secretly wondered for like a second, what it’d be like …”

He inhaled as she trailed off, closed his eyes and sighed as he said, “It’s going to be amazing.”

She grinned and nodded slowly. “It really is.”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“I think you need some more medicine. You sound stuffy again.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Maybe some tea.”

“Okay, sounds good,” she kissed his forehead, frowning once again, “Tylenol at least.”

“Fair deal.”

“Go back to bed. I’ll get you a bottle of water.”

“Okay,” he said, staring at her with tired eyes, trailing his finger along her hairline. “You were wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“You’re going to be the best mom ever.”

She grinned, closed her eyes and sighed. She kissed his forehead and slowly lifted herself from the couch. “I’ll be right in.”

“Okay,” he nodded, shuffling his feet back to his bedroom.

She walked in to his bedroom a few moments later, her arms filled with DVD’s and his promised bottle of water.

“Take this,” she said, handing him the pills once she placed the DVD’s on the foot of the bed.

“What’s all that?”

“Movies.”

“Obviously,” he laughed and coughed. “What’re you doing with them?”

“We’re going to watch a few.”

“Really?”

She turned, fixed him with a smirk. “Yes. Why are you doubting me?”

“No, I’m not. I just feel bad, I’m totally destroying your birthday.”

“You’re not. Now please lay back, relax and enjoy the magical wonder of Jerry McGuire.”

“I don’t own Jerry McGuire.”

“I know you don’t, it’s my copy.”

“Ah, noted. Please make sure that it leaves with you. You’ll ruin my rep.”

She laughed at him, the way she always does when she thinks he’s utterly ridiculous. “Wouldn’t want to do that.”

“Exactly,” he said, bringing the covers over his chest.

She pressed play on the remote, nestling herself next to him, his arm folding around her shoulder.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling and kissing his chin.

“I promise we’ll go out tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is perfect.”

“But I’m sick.”

“I know, sweetie. Shh,” she shushed him, rubbing the palm of her hand over his chest, her eyes fixed on the television.

“I have your gift,” he said with a yawn.

“Later, after dinner.”

“M’kay,” he mumbled, his cheek resting on her head. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She closed her eyes, listened to the sound of his congested breathing, frowning as her eyes drifted closed. When they opened, she saw the DVD screen saver bouncing on the screen, the only light illuminating the night darkened room.

Gently, she moved herself off of the bed, cleared the nightstand free of the dirty tissues with a clean one, and headed toward the kitchen, taking out the ingredients for the dinner she had planned. She cleared her throat a few times and felt her own slight congestion running through her lungs as she inhaled.

The amazing thing about it was she didn’t care that she’d caught his cold or missed out on a big birthday celebration. All she cared about was helping him get better, now that she finally could.

.

.


DISCLAIMER: Don’t own a thing.





Fifteen Months



April 2008



He hadn’t been this nervous since the last time he stood at her doorstep and presented her with flowers. That time, they were supposed to erase the past, mark a new beginning and break the ice a little bit. To let her know he messed up too and that he was sorry for everything that they went through to get to that first date.

This time, eleven months and a day later, he stood in just about the same spot, choosing not to use his key, instead waiting for her to answer her door.

Ten minutes later, he was still outside, still clutching a bouquet of tulips in his left hand with the apology right on the tip of his tongue. Now if she’d just open the door.

He knew she was mad. Obviously. He was only joking, a point he tried to make several times last night on the drive home from their nightmare of being stuck in the office parking lot waiting for the security guy to come by and unlock the gate. He hoped she’d realize things just got out of hand, leading to him saying more things that he most definitely shouldn’t have. But he thought she would at least be willing to let him inside so they could talk it out.

Maybe she didn’t want to talk it out though, he thought, his head bowing down as he mulled the outcome of leaving her alone for now. Maybe she wanted to cool off some more and think about things. There was certainly a lot to think about.

He took one step toward his car, it struck him that walking away now would be even dumber than the fight they had last night. No good could come from her thinking about things anymore than she probably already had been. With a resigned sigh and a shake of his head, he took his key out of his pocket and unlocked her door, noting how completely silent it was.

“Pam?” he said calmly, clicking the door closed lightly and locking it. He took his shoes off and shuffled forward down the small hallway, peeking into the bathroom before he heard sniffles coming from her bedroom.

Opening the door completely, he instantly frowned at the sight of her, curled onto her side, facing away from him, a pile of used tissues surrounding her nightstand.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning over with a tentative hand, stutter tapping her arm before laying his hand completely on her shoulder. He took the fact that she didn’t flinch as a good sign.

“Can we talk?” he asked. Her posture stiffened when he moved closer. “I know, you have every right to be mad at me.”

She shook her head and cleared her throat, “its okay. You were right last night.”

“No, I’m wrong.” he brought the bouquet around to her field of vision. “Really really wrong, Pam. It was a stupid joke and it … it just … I never meant for it to sound like I was putting down your job.”

“You’re right though, who would lock the door if it weren’t for the little old receptionist?”

“I swear, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that. I’d never ever intentionally imply anything like that.”

“It’s okay, really. I get it. Receptionist forever with no potential to do anything else.”

“Okay, honestly, that’s a little over dramatic,” he said, moving her hair from her neck and kissing the spot below her ear. “I’d never ever tell you that you have no potential.”

“Mm-hmm,” she muttered, inhaling with her eyes closed as his lips rest on her jaw line. “I think … you’re right. I’m totally kidding myself. I’m just going to be a receptionist forever with no back bone and these stupid classes I’m taking are getting me nowhere.”

“Pam, listen to me. I never said that specifically. You know that, you’re blowing it out of proportion. Last night? It was a bad night. Everyone wanted to kill me for getting us locked in. I could be the one beating myself up about being a complete idiot that ruined the entire office’s Friday night. And then, there’s that whole Toby touching you … just, I was stupid, I was in a bad mood, and there’s no excuse I can even come up with for ever saying if you had just not locked the door like the good old receptionist you are. I never meant for it to sound like I was demeaning or anything. You have to believe me. Come on, please?”

She turned over slowly to face him, blinking her puffy eyes, “I believe you. I over reacted.”

He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. “I did too. I really can see now why Michael hates Toby. I mean, the sight of his hand on you? What the hell is with that guy? I know, you said it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. To me at least. And last night it just seemed like you were just brushing it off too much. So that’s why I said you need to be less passive about stuff.”

She shook her head and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s just something you said made me think.”

“Like what?” he asked, kissing the top of her head as she rested her head under his chin. He moved his hand over her arm slowly.

“Like maybe … maybe you deserve something better than a receptionist?”

He shook his head quickly, “That’s… no seriously? Pam, come on. That couldn’t be more of the opposite of the truth.”

“Yeah…” she trialed off, clearing her throat again and swiping at a tear. “I just want you to be proud of me.”

“I am,” he said, the ‘m’ sound lingering.

“I sort of think I’m not though. I went to school to be this art teacher, and I’m not even close to doing anything with art whatsoever. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Every time I think I’m doing something good, it ends up blowing up in my face.”

“Wow, okay, again, that’s just a tad bit over the top. You’re still young. We both are.”

“I know. We are. But… there’s that whole … you know. Moving forward thing.”

“Yeah, we are. One thing doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other though, Pam.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Look at me. I went to school for communications. I thought I’d be running a television studio or working at some sports network by now. I’m not though. I’m pushing paper on people who don’t even use it. Talk about loser.”

She laughed and rubbed her cheek over the material of his shirt. “Who’s trying to make who feel better here?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and moving herself closer. “So I guess we’re both in need of a change, huh?”

“Actually,” he inhaled the almost musty smell of her room, “I’m really okay with where I am, job wise. The money’s good, the commission is great. I mean … last year, I tried. I tried to be something I’m not. I’m not the guy with the power suits and big important lunch meetings. Down the road, if I need something where I’m making more money to support our family, then yeah. I’ll make it my business to get something better. All I care about is making a decent living so we can live our life together. I’m the guy who wants to earn his paycheck and come home to his gorgeous wife and play with his kids and watch sports. As long as I’m doing that well, I don’t really need to change anything right now.”

“Yeah…” she said airily. “Until you realize your gorgeous wife is just some dumb woman who couldn’t get her act together.”

“I thought you knew by now, Pam. I don’t care what you do for a living.”

“I don’t know,” she said, a hint of coyness in her voice.

“I wouldn’t care if you delivered the local paper, or if you were a circus clown, or were vice president of some multinational corporation.”

“Really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and turning her chin upward. She ran her hand down his stomach to his belt buckle, inching his shirt up to reveal a sliver of skin. “I just want you to be proud of me.”

He laughed, clenched his jaw as he felt himself stiffen under her palm. “Well,” he gasped as she lowered his zipper. “I … oh god,” he closed his eyes and inhaled as her lips grazed his neck. “So proud of you,” he groaned, taking her face in his hands and rolling her over onto her back as he kissed her hungrily.

“Just want you to love me,” she whispered, her breath inches from his nose.

He brought his hand up her rib cage, taking her t-shirt with him, lifting it over her head. “Love you, more than life,” he said before placing his lips to her breast, his tongue swirling around her hard nipple, making her moan his name. He felt himself stiffen and pulse as he took hold of the top edge of her underwear, dipping his fingers inside. He ran his finger through her wetness, rubbing her opening as she writhed and moaned, her body moving in time with his hands.

He watched her face contorting, her mouth hung open and her eyes squeezed closed, she began to squeeze her breasts, turning the nipples around between her fingers. He’d never seen her do that before, in all of the months that they’d been having sex. He never saw her openly touch herself, as she did now, one hand clutching her breast, the other joining his hand at her clit, running her hand along with his, grunting approval as she rubbed faster. The part of his brain that could still process real thoughts knew she was trying to prove something, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself at the sight of her pleasuring herself as he dipped his fingers into her core.

“So … oh Jim, so close,” she purred, taking a fistful of his hair in her hand as his hot lips worked their way from her breasts to her belly button.

He grunted, pushing himself up to take his shirt off, her hands instantly drawn to his skin, soft and delicate, pulling and urging, grabbing at his pants and pulling them as far down as she could. She sat up and wrapped her hand around his hardness and licked her lips as he knelt before her. His boxers barely around his hips, she took him in her mouth and sucked hard, making him throw his head back and curse as he grew harder at the touch of her tongue swirling around the tip. Her head bobbed as she moved her lips from the base to the tip, her fingers rubbing circles around her clit as his hands molded her breasts. He pushed them together, letting them overflow in his hands.

He pushed her shoulders so she lay back down, her hair fanning on her pillow, the look of pleasure on her face as he replaced her fingers with his own, pinching her spot before slamming his fingers into her, making her yell for more. Her arms reached for him, the look of begging on her face, her moans and cries made him take her hips in his hands, rub her clit once more before he pumped himself inside of her, grunting and thrusting and sweating, his lips all over her face and breasts as she lifted her hips to meet his.

She whined, “you feel so good… don’t stop, oh god don’t stop!”

He pulled out, and almost instinctually, she got on her hands and knees, her head turned to look at him behind her as he stroked himself, giving her a searing look before taking her hips in his hands and slamming himself into her. He bent over, his stomach slick on her back as he took her breasts into his hands once again, grazing his teeth over her hot skin as he pumped hard, grunting and swearing and pinching her nipples. He called her name as he felt himself start to unravel, the sensation of her coming around him too much for him to take as he emptied himself inside of her as she rode out her own orgasm while she pushed herself into him.

She collapsed onto her stomach, her body rising and falling quickly as she breathed loudly. He ran his hands through his sweaty hair; a smile he thought would never leave on his face as he moved to lie next to her. He ran his hand over her back while their breathing evened out.

“Wow,” he breathed, kissing shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said, her eyes shining in amazement. “That was new.”

“You started it.”

“So unlike me,” she turned onto her side with a devilish smile.

“Oh,” he widened his eyes and kissed her cheek. “I’m not complaining. I could definitely get used to that.”

“We’re so good.”

“We so are. Let’s try that again in an hour,” he winked.

“Thirty minutes,” she purred, nibbling at his earlobe.

.
.

.
.

A/N: Parts of this chapter had to be re-written.

Fifteen Months


May, 2008


She has a month, maybe six weeks, to get herself organized and ready for a new chapter in her life.

Unfortunately, becoming engaged is not that life changing thing. But the week since that night when they slept in their own apartments, neither saying what they wanted to say, she’s gotten better at accepting the fact that sometimes, things don’t go the way she thinks they will.

Once in her life though, she’d like something to go exactly as she intended. As much as she wants to do this art thing she’s embarking on in July to take off for her, she wants, more than anything else, to pledge and solidify and commit to him.

Aside from all of that, her lease on her apartment is up in two weeks. She had hoped that they would be packing boxes this weekend and getting her things combined with his. She had it all planned, they would be engaged and ready to take the leap, he would be his perfect Jim self, as he always is, and they would move in together and start planning their wedding. Yes, she knows there’s Pratt to consider, buckling down and getting her graphic design certificate is just as important as walking down the aisle to the soft chords of a pipe organ toward the one person that means more to her than anything else in her world.

That she’s hesitated on bringing it up all week is resulting in some minor hair loss and a small twinge in her right side.

The inner workings of her mind – more specifically, the whining going on inside of it, make her feel like a cross between a petulant child and the woman on the verge of giving the ultimate ultimatum.

She has calmed some from the overwhelming depression she felt that night, after that going away party for Toby. She blamed the tears on PMS, rationalizing with herself that just because she was on the pill didn’t mean she couldn’t be overly hormonal.

The fact of the matter, though, for her, is that it wouldn’t be so damn near irritated that he didn’t ask during a seemingly perfect moment – them huddled together under the stars and fireworks, reminiscent of his family’s July Fourth celebration – if he hadn’t teased her about it endlessly for a month.

“Why are men such jerks,” she lamented over coffee with her friend Isabel earlier in the week.

“They just are,” Isabel shrugged. “They all are. It just depends on what level of bullshit you’re willing to put up with.”

Pam nodded, “Yeah, whatever,” she muttered, stabbing the coffee cake with her fork and taking a bite.

“I take it the all perfect boyfriend has screwed up something.”

“Yep, sure did,” she said, crumbs falling from her lips as she chewed.

“What?”

“I just,” Pam sighed, “I thought he was going to propose the other night. And he didn’t. I guess I’m so completely un-marriable that he…” she trailed off with a head shake, the rest of her sentence stuck in her head, making her eyes sting.

“Okay. I have to tell you something.” Isabel asked, leaning in. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone. And also, know that I’m only telling you this because of what you just said, so you don’t go throwing yourself off a building.”

Pam tilted her head to the side and smirked. “I’m not that unstable.”

“Well, whatever. Anyway, I heard from a reliable source that he is going to propose.”

“Yeah, that’s what he keeps telling me,” she lifted her left hand in the air and pointed toward her ring finger. “Still bare, though.”

“Stop,” Isabel waved her hand in front of her. “You’re being over dramatic. Trust me. He’s going to ask.”

“How can you be so sure,” Pam asked skeptically.

“Well, I can’t say specifically. But trust me. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Pam nodded slowly. “We’ll see.”

“So when do you start Pratt?”

“I’m supposed to start the first week of August, they want us all moved into the dorms by mid-July. I was hoping, stupid me, that I’d be moved into his place first. But that’s not happening.”

“Did he break up with you?”

“No.”

“Then shut up,” Isabel rolled her eyes dramatically, “and enjoy the last month you have with him before you leave for school.”

“Yeah,” Pam agreed with a frown. “You make it sound like I’m never coming back when you say it like that.”

“You never know,” Isabel prodded.

“Oh, no,” Pam shook her head adamantly. “I’m coming back. This is just something to just see if I’m good enough.”

“What if you are?”

“That’s good enough for me. If I get the certificate, I’ll come back here, touch base with that computer guy I met at this job fair that my boss dragged me to and take it from there. I’m not a New Yorker.”

“If you say so,” Isabel said with a smirk.

“Oh, I say so.”

“Why would you come back to Scranton?” Isabel asked, scrunching her nose in disdain.

“Because, I love it here. It’s where I grew up. And I want my kids to grow up here too. It’s quiet. It’s nice. It’s a small town. I like it here.”

“If Jim weren’t here, would you bother coming back?”

“Okay,” Pam said, her head ticking to the side in slight annoyance. “The inquisition can stop now.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I just never want to think about Jim never being here. It’s a sore subject.”

“Why?”

“Oh shut up, you know why,” Pam said with widened eyes.

“I know,” Isabel grinned slyly, holding her cup to her lips. “It’s just fun to hear you talk about it.”

“Whatever,” Pam laughed, taking a sip from her coffee cup.

“Shake it off, sister,” Isabel demanded.

Pam grinned, “Shaking.”

Later that day, Pam found herself in her kitchen, pots, lids and bowls everywhere as she moved between sifting flower, peeling potatoes and simmering onions. She baked, cooked, and divided each meal into Ziploc containers and froze them.

Now, as she stands at his door, she forgot all of the reasons she had been angry, just by seeing his face light up when he opened the door.

“What’s all that?” he asked, pointing to the box.

“Oh, it’s just um, some stuff.”

“Pam,” he said, taking the box from her, he ushered her in with a head tilt, peeking into the box once he set it on his kitchen table. “This is like, enough food for a month. Maybe more. How hungry are you?” he laughed, examining the now thawing containers.

“It’s for you. For when I’m at school. I want to make sure you eat.”

“But you don’t leave for another six weeks,” he asked, confused.

“I know. But I wanted to do it. You can freeze them. The containers are good quality. Won’t get too much freezer burn.”

“Wow,” he said, placing the container he had been holding back inside the box and walked over to her, reached for her face and held it in his hands. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she grinned, hopping on her feet a bit.

“So,” he inhaled, running his hands over her arms. “I sort of wanted to talk to you about something, before we head over to the picnic.”

“Sure. Let’s put that stuff away though. Before it defrosts.”

“It can wait,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the living room.

“Okay,” she nodded wearily.

“So,” he said, sitting on the sofa, his body angled toward hers next to him. “I know things sort of got weird this week since you know, Toby’s thing.”

“Oh, did they?” she said, trying to sound oblivious.

“Pam,” he said, fixing his gaze as if to say he wasn’t buying what she was selling. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out when you’re mad at me.”

“Well,” she shrugged. “Let’s not go there.”

“Yeah, I know. The whole year since I came back from Stamford in November until last May, I was a douche.”

“That’s not,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “Never mind. Continue.”

“You have every right to be defensive,” he said, looking down at their joined hands. “I messed up. And … that’s not something I never wanted to do. Especially not with you.”

She nodded, her voice caught in between her lungs and her throat as she tried stop the quivering lip she could feel starting to curl.

“I’m an idiot,” he continued. “I … I paid for those fireworks, and it was supposed to remind you of the time we went to that park last year with my family, when we watched the fireworks, and then I stayed over that night. I know … most guys wouldn’t remember that. But it’s different for me. That was one of the greatest nights of my life, you with my family and then afterward. It still means … anyway,” he sighed, swallowed audibly and looked into her eyes. “I wanted the night that I asked you to marry me to be just as special. Just as memorable. And then that jackass we work with went and ruined it. I couldn’t do it then. I couldn’t have what he did be a part of our memory.”

She sniffled and nodded, dabbing at her teary eyes. “I know,” she squeaked out.

“Hey,” he leaned over, running his thumb underneath her eye. “See, I can’t do it now either because you’re crying.”

She shook her head and tried to find her voice, “Don’t.”

He nodded and creased his eyebrows, “What?”

“No, no… I… It’s just. I was thinking, I mean, I’m going to be gone for three months. And I mean, I know I don’t want to be apart from my fiancé for that long, you know?”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “we can wait.”

He pulled her into a tight hug, her head resting sideways on his shoulder as her hands grasped his t-shirt. “I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffled. “I made you enough food for a month to make up for it.”

“Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”

“Nope,” she pulled back and kissed his lips. “It’s my way of saying I’m sorry I was so bitchy this past week.”

“Totally deserved it,” he said with a smile as he kissed her forehead.

She shook her head and reached up to kiss his lips. “No you didn’t.”

He hugged her, his hand running over her back. “Move in with me.”

“Okay,” she answered without hesitation.

He grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her slowly, kissing her eye lids and her forehead before hugging her again, sighing loudly in her ear.

“Let’s go now,” he said, took her hand and lead her toward the door.

“Now? It’s going to take longer than one afternoon.”

“Just take what you need, we’ll get the rest over the week.”

“What about my furniture?” she asked, sliding her shoes on.

“We’ll find somewhere to store it, save it for when we get a house.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You really did think of everything, didn’t you.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since the beginning of time.”

“Okay now you’re exaggerating,” she laughed, walking toward his car.

“I’m not,” he said, stopping and standing next to her before he unlocked the door. He bent down to kiss her cheek. “I’m serious. This is almost exactly like I wanted everything.”

“Me too,” she agreed, hugging her arms around his waist. “Oh, I have to stop in and tell my land lady that I won’t be signing a new lease.”

“Look at that good timing,” he grinned.

“More or less, yeah.”


The afternoon flew by, packing and unpacking her took more time than he thought it would, and they decided to stand in her living room and create two piles of things- essential and not immediately necessary. The former pile was loaded into his car and unpacked with little fuss; he gave her half of his closet, her own row of drawers in his dresser, her own spot for her loofah and bath products in the bathroom.

They sat on the couch in his apartment, Chinese food containers on the coffee table, her boxes lined up against a wall. He filled their glasses with champagne, lifting his glass in the air, she following suit.

“You have made this year the most amazing year of my life, Pam. I don’t ever want to let you down again. I love you so much, you’re so important to me and I really can’t wait to start our life together.”

“Me too,” she said, her chin dimpling. “Happy anniversary.”

He shook his head, smiled an astonished sort of smile and laughed lightly. “Happy anniversary.”

.

.
Fifteen Months


June, 2008


There was one day throughout their entire relationship, that Pam would always remember above all other days – that one Sunday, the day before she left for Pratt. Despite the cloud of her leaving for three months, the day turned out to be extraordinary.

She had been almost completely moved into the dorm room, minus a few sundries, and they both made the most of their last full weekend together without the stress of being two hours away from one another.

Her eyes slowly crept open that Sunday morning to find him lying on his side, his head propped on his hand, the look in his eyes of both longing and pride.

“Good morning,” he whispered, licking his lips.

“Hi,” she purred, her voice vibrating. She moved to her side to face him, covered his cheek with her palm and kissed him softly.

“You know, I realized something.”

“What,” she grinned, her lids still heavy with sleep.

“Every time you’re about to wake up, it’s like … something like Christmas morning for me.”

“Oh my God,” she laughed, folding her arms around his neck, pushing him onto his back. “That’s so, so cheesy,” she rolled her eyes and kissed his chin.

“Yeah, well,” he said, almost embarrassedly, “if I can’t be cheesy with you in the privacy of our bedroom, when can I be?”

“Good point,” she agreed, wiggling her eyebrows. She nuzzled her head on his shoulder, her fingers drawing circles on his chest. “I like it.”

“Good.”

“I’m really going to miss you,” she whispered. “Like, I know I want to do this, and I need to do this. But … I … I wish I could take you with me.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to her palm. “I wish I could come with you too,” he said, his voice breaking. “I was sort of going to wait until later, but,” he said, gently nudging her to move before he rose from the bed. “I have something for you.”

She sat up and adjusted the pillows on the headboard, resting her back against it.

He crawled back on the bed, a black velvet box with a big red bow in his hand. “This is for you,” he said, handing her the box and kissing her cheek. He mimicked her position and watched her open the gift, her eyes lighting up at the sight instantly.

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a bright smile, holding the silver heart shaped pendant between her fingers, the silver chain dangling over her hand. “It’s … I … I love it, thank you,” she grinned and leaned over to kiss him languidly.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, running his thumb over her cheek. “May I?” he asked, taking it from her hand and fastening it around her neck. He pressed his finger into the center of the pendant gently. “Perfect fit,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah,” she agreed, touching her fingers to the pendant, dipping her head down to gaze at it for a moment.

“I wanted to have something engraved on it, but I didn’t know what. So, you know, maybe once we do that whole making an honest woman out of you thing, maybe we can have that date put on the back.”

“Okay,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Oh my god, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he said, resting his head next to hers, moving his hand over her back.

“How am I going to do this without you there?”

“Hey,” he said, holding her face in his hands, “I’m right there, phone, email, IM, text, and video chat. If worse comes to worse, I’ll drive there to see you.”

“Promise?” she asked, her eyes tearing.

He pressed his index finger into her nose gently and nodded, “With all my heart. You’re not doing this alone.”

She looked down, her hand covering the pendant and smiled as she looked back up to him. His hands cupped her cheeks and they sunk back down onto the bed, whiling away the rest of the early morning between the bed sheets.


**

“You keep looking at it,” he remarked. “You keep doing this,” he quipped, bending his head dramatically, his mouth agape as he held his eyes to his chest, his head moving from side to side.

“You’re such a goof,” she laughed, gliding a French fry through some ketchup repeatedly. “I just really love it. And I want to see it.”

“I could put it on… you know, so you can stare at it,” he smiled.

She tilted her head to the side and laughed, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I have a few ideas,” he said, winking at her as he at a bite of his burger.

“We’re in a family diner, Jim. Keep it G rated,” she mocked lightly.

“So,” he pointed to her mostly uneaten food. “Not good?” he asked with a scrunched nose.

“I don’t know. I’m just all … bundle of nerves.”

“Twenty minutes ago, you shoved me out of bed because you were starving.”

“I know,” she sighed. “These nerves just … popped up.”

“Well, you should eat. At least have half,” he said seriously.

“You’re such a worry wart.”

“Only about you,” he said, motioning his head toward her plate. “Eat.”

“Wow,” she said, eating another fry. “Very impressive dad impression.”

He grinned sarcastically, “Thank you. What’s bugging you?”

She sighed, “I’m just … I’m probably going to be the oldest person in class. I probably won’t make any friends. What if I don’t get it? Like, what if I don’t get what the teachers are teaching? What if I get like … randomly mugged in the city? What if I get lost? … What if,” she trailed off, letting out a long breath.

“Let’s pretend you didn’t say anything about being mugged or lost, okay? You know, for my own sanity,” he said, his eyes wide. She nodded and he continued. “Look. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. I do know that I believe in you. I know that people are going to want to be your friend, no matter if you’re older than them or not.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, quirking her lip in uncertainty.

“Come on. Didn’t you tell me once, you could live your life on what if’s, or you could just live? I think it was a day after my dad was rushed to the hospital. Pam, you’re going to be so great. Okay?”

She nodded, forced a small smile and said, “I know, you’re right.”

“Oh my god, okay. See, you just said I’m right. We have to document this.”

“Shut up,” she smiled, brighter this time. “You’re such a pain sometimes.”

“I am aware of this fact. Not sure who I heard it from,” he mused.

“Hah-hah. Okay I promise, I’ll stop.”

“Good, let’s just enjoy this moment.”

“We’re at the Glider eating lunch and splitting cheese fries. Super special moment.”

“Oh, I’m still reveling in the whole being right thing.”

“Good, cause it probably won’t happen again,” she said sarcastically.

“Which is why,” he drew a circle around himself with his index finger, “I’m reveling.”

“Enjoy it,” she smirked, shaking her head, her cheeks reddening as she held in laughter.

“Oh, I am.”


**

“So, you’d really come to the office for a few hours tomorrow before you leave?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, linking her arm with his as they strolled through the park, the sun setting ahead of them. She leaned her head on his bicep, “I want to get ever minute I can with you.”

“Aw,” he said, stopping their gait, pulling her into a tight hug. “Me too.”

“And when I come back?” she asked, looking up to him with a question in her eyes.

He moved his head slowly to the side, inched his face close to hers, and whispered a kiss across her lips. “When you come back, we’re going to figure out where and when, and we’re going to do it.”

“Maybe by this time next year we’ll be…” she spoke slowly, her eyes glistening.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You’re sure you want to stay in Scranton.”

“As long as you’re here, so am I.”

“Okay,” his arms slid down to her waist and he pulled her into a tight hug once again.

The ambled toward a quiet clearing in the park, a perfect view of the sunset in front of them and they stood and watched, he behind her, his arms around her shoulders, her hands holding to his forearms.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“It is,” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver slightly.

She loved the peacefulness of him, the calm that he brought to her psyche that eased her tension and made her feel alive. Anytime he brushed his hand over any inch of her skin, she instantly felt her blood pressure drop and her heart rate speed up, the great oxymoron’s that ran through her mind. It was a true feeling that made her believe anything was possible.

They laid a blanket down on a patch of grass, chips and soda between them, along with a shared turkey and cheese sandwich.

He raised his soda cup, stared into her eyes as the colors faded around them with the sun, and the moon cast shadows through the trees. “I want nothing more for you than everything you ever want. Here’s to the beginning of your journey tomorrow.”

“I want you,” she said, placing her red plastic cup next to his as they leaned in and pressed their lips to one another.

“I’m all yours,” he smiled, happiness radiated through his eyes.

“This has been such an amazing day,” she said, peeling crust from her sandwich.

“Yeah, we didn’t do much, but this is pretty cool,” he intoned, pointing to the darkening sky.

“No, I know, but it’s… just spending a quiet day with you, it’s just perfect.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he agreed. “Any day I get to spend with you though, is pretty much perfect,” he said, touching his finger to the pendant.

“I wish I had something to give you,” she said, glancing at him sideways before taking his hand in hers.

He shook his head, smiled and let out a small laugh, “You have definitely given me enough. Have you seen our freezer? I have enough food in there to last for at least six months.”

“Yeah, well. It’s my job to take care of you,” she affirmed. “I just want you to know,” she looked into his eyes, shook her head slightly, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

He snaked his arm around her shoulder, held her cheeks with his hands and kissed her with an intensity she never felt before.

They snuggled together on their blanket, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist, their heads connected at the temple.

Both pointing to the sky in unison toward the first twinkling star, they both whispered, “Make a wish.”

Gazing into one another’s eyes, she knew her wish was about to come true.


**

Holding a checklist in her hand, she marked off items as she placed them in the box. Most of her things were already in the dorm, save for a few things she needed from home and from the office.

She held up a few DVD’s, turning to him as he worked on the new laptop they had bought for her. “So, we’re going to watch Cranford, right?”

“What?” he looked up, his lip upturned. “No, nope.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’ve never seen it before,” he said flatly.

“So, you’ll get a chance to now.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Nope.”

“Fine, what do you want to watch?”

“Battlestar Galactica.”

“Oh my God,” she scoffed. “No way, I’m not watching that. I won’t.”

“Okay, fine. So, you have an hours worth of down time per night for the next three months. We have to fill that time with good solid television discussion.”

“Exactly, so…” she trailed off.

“West Wing,” he said, reaching for the DVD set. “Intrigue, politics. And the plastic casing is still wrapped around it. Shame to waste good money.”

“You have a deal, sir,” she said, extending her hand for him to shake.

“Okay, so, here,” he pointed to her computer. “You should be good to go. You can set up video chat when you get there.”

“Sounds good,” she said, marking the last thing from her list and setting it on the end table. She crossed over to him, sat herself on his lap and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He smiled, wordlessly and kissed her lips, pulling her closer to him as his hands ran up her sides and up her back. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

She nodded, held her hand to the back of his head and melted into him as they sat quietly for a while, eventually falling asleep on the sofa holding onto one another, their cheeks fused together.

Fifteen Months


July, 2008



They say it only takes three weeks to make or break a habit. He’s not entirely sure who they are, but for him it only took one weekend to get into the habit of spending every weekend for the past fourteen months together. This one though, would be their very first one apart since that very first one. She had a group project to work on, and after much deliberation he decided to let her do her thing on her own instead of intruding and inevitably feeling awkward and out of place with her art friends.

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss her every second since he woke up this morning. He planned on going for a run, or maybe going to see his parents, something to get him moving. So far, though, all he had been able to do was pour himself a bowl of cereal, sit on the couch and watch Sports Center, eyeballing his cell phone ever three and a half minutes.

He did not want to be the guy who called his girlfriend twenty times a day. Not for nothing though, just hearing the sound of her voice gave him the small spark of energy he needed to get through a day. At some point in his life he slightly remembers being able to get through a day without her. But now, knowing what it’s like to have his life entwined with hers, he can do nothing except miss her. It’s not more than he ever thought possible. He fully expected it to happen, once she moved in, he knew then that her moving away for three months would be at the very least, difficult to get through.

He shrugged, mentally slapped himself for being ridiculous, inhaled and chalked up his self proclaimed pathos to the early morning hour and tried to focus on the scores on his television screen. And as he rolled his eyes as the announcers proclaimed the Yankees done for the year, he couldn’t contain the wide grin that splayed across his face when his cell phone rang.

“Good morning,” her sleep laden voice sounded in his ear.

“Hi, good morning,” he replied, muting the television.

“Sports Center and Frosted Flakes too important for you to call your girlfriend?” she joked.

“You know me so well,” he laughed, setting his emptied bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, don’t put your dirty bowl on the coffee table. You’ll leave a mark on the wood.”

“Okay, where are you and how are you doing this?” he laughed, looking around the room as he brought his bowl to the sink.

“It’s what I do, Jim.”

“Right you are. So, what are you doing? Ready for your big group date?”

“It’s not a date. It’s a group project that has to be done. I can’t even believe you called it a date. I’m a little mad,” she said flatly.

“Yeah, you sound mad,” he chuckled.

“Mm-hmm, yep. What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know. Maybe go see my parents. Spend some time with Larissa.”

“Oh,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “Trade places with you.”

“Doubt it. I’ll probably be subjected to a hundred questions of how you are, followed by some sort of lecture on something from my parents. Or something like that. Or maybe I’ll just sit here and do nothing,” he said while he walked into the bedroom and stared at the inside of his closet.

“We’re pathetic. You realize that, right?”

“Hey, speak for yourself there, woman. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just coming down with something,” he shrugged. “Hey, question for you. What’s in these boxes?”

“Which boxes?”

“The one’s on the bottom of our bedroom closet.”

“Oh, I totally forgot about those, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, no big deal. I’m just looking for something to do.”

“Okay if you’re that bored, go ahead and unpack them.”

“Yeah? You’re not worried I’ll find something horribly embarrassing in there and mock you for it for days.”

“Eh, I already know you will. Plus, you know you love me.”

“More than you know. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, call me when you’re back. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he said, frowning somberly as he flipped the phone shut.


**

Trying to muster some semblance of guilt – knowing he shouldn’t be looking through her things with such detailed attention, especially when it was filled with things from years before, he tried not to linger too much on the things before him. Things that he hadn’t seen in years, and couldn’t believe she had kept. Things that proved once again, that he meant just as much to her as she did to him for all of the years they’d known one another. He knew all of that, of course. She told him as much over a year ago, when they spent their first hours together over dinner. The feeling that he was invading her personal belongings never came though. Instead he sat on the bed and pulled out items one by one, holding and weighing them in his hands.

A picture of them at their first Dunder Mifflin Christmas party, much younger faces, wearing silly Santa hats and cheesy grins, old movie ticket stubs from-it looked like every single movie they had ever gone to see together, as friends of course. Back when he could only imagine that they’d do this forever. He pulled out drawings she had done, little light sketches of things from their office, a set of colored pencils untouched next to them. He remembers giving them to her as a gift for her birthday.

He sat for a moment, leafing through the other items inside, fondly recalling only the good moments of their friendship with a grin. He lifted an unsealed envelope, quirking his eyebrow at his own name staring back at him. The wrestling match within him fought hard for ten minutes as he sat and held the envelope in his hand, flip flopping between opening it and putting it back inside. He rationalized silently that his name was indeed on the outside, clear as day. So whatever inside was for him, though she never gave it to him, whatever this thick and crinkly thing inside was.

And as curiosity got the better of him, he lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out yellow legal sized paper, her handwriting all over it. He fingered the sides of the paper, counting four sheets total, before he turned it around and read from the beginning.


May, 2007


Dear Jim,

Or should I call you Mr. Halpert now, since you’re on your way to becoming my boss? How weird is that? You never really cared about this job so much in all the time I’ve known you. Or maybe you did and you just told me you didn’t so I wouldn’t feel so bad about hating mine. I should probably scratch that out, since again, you are probably my boss by the time you get to read this. But I don’t want to erase that, I wanted to talk to you as a friend one last time, before you move on to the next phase of your life in the corporate world.

I’m happy for you. If this is what you really want, then I have to be happy for you, as a good friend. One last time anyways. I mean, who am I kidding, you’ll forget about me the minute you set foot in whatever cool hip and posh place corporate has set up for you to live in. I’m glad you found someone who can keep up with that kind of lifestyle too. I know I’d never be able to do it. I would never be able to live in such an over crowded noisy place. I like the country life too much. Or as country as Scranton is. I’ll find myself in another city soon, somewhere where I can move on too, like you have. This place has too many memories and I’m just biding my time until its official, until they say you’re the new VP.

I’m moving on. I’ve decided to go west. I’m not entirely sure where, but there are places I need to see and things I need to do. It’s taken me this year to realize that I can’t sit back and wait anymore for things to happen. That entire beach day, as much as it hurt to watch you having fun with someone else, it made me really figure out a lot of things. I’m replaceable, forgettable, or any other adjective you’d like to use. Maybe you weren’t as in love with me as you thought you were. I shouldn’t expect you to have changed your mind overnight, but I guess what you’ve told me by leaving this time, is that it’s time for me to get over you and move on. So I’m doing that. I’m sure you don’t care, but I figured I’d just let you know that.

Well, anyway. The point of this is to wish you luck. Not burden you with my life choices. So yeah, tomorrow you’ll be my boss. And your first order of business will probably be to find a new receptionist for the Scranton branch. So you won’t be my boss for too long. Just for a few weeks. So I can talk to you as a friend, just on borrowed time, because after tomorrow we won’t be friends. Not that we have been lately. But I think its better this way.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Last year, at some point once the dust settled, I started doing this crazy thing in my mind. I kept imagining what life would be like with you, to really be with you as more than a friend. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t doing it right now too. Wondering, what it would be like to just take a walk with you somewhere, to hold your hand while we watch television, or just … everything.

I know we could have had everything. And I guess this is where I should blame myself and apologize to you for not realizing all of this sooner, for letting you walk away, again, without just telling you that I love you too. Probably more than you could ever imagine.

At some point in my life, I’ll forget all of these things. I’ll forget that sometimes I picture us lying on blankets in the park, just watching the stars, or sitting on the couch watching movies. Of us spending time with one another’s families during the holidays, or us spending our first Christmas together, just us. Or buying a house and living in it together, having some kids and having a life with you.

And I know you’ll forget about me, since I’m sure you already have. And I’ll move on and find someone else. I can’t tell you where I’m planning on going, that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. It probably isn’t even fair to you to send you this letter.

But I will. Because as much as I want to move on from this, I can’t move on if I don’t at least tell you that everything you said you felt for me, I felt it too. I feel it too.

I just want you to know that I’ll always consider you one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and the only person I’ve ever loved so completely.

I wish you nothing but success in the new job, and I hope you’re very happy with Karen, I hope you have a great life with her. This letter was not intended to be manipulative, as I re- read it, it seems I’m asking you to change your mind. I’m not, not anymore. It was written with nothing but sincere wishes for the best of luck with the rest of your life. Nothing more.

It was such a privilege to be a part of your life for the short time I was in it. I’ll never forget you or what you meant to me through the years.

Thank you for always encouraging me to do what I love. To be stronger, to be better, to be what I want. And as I lose you, I’m going to take that strength with me and pursue my goal. So, thank you for that.

I wish you nothing but great things in life. I hope you have a family that loves you, a job that makes you happy and a life you always dreamed of. I’m sorry I couldn’t be part of it.

I did love you. So much. More than you’ll ever know. So much more. I guess you couldn’t read between the lines of what I was saying last week at the beach. I should have come out and said I love you right then and there. But I’ll pretend that you would have made the same decision.

Don’t forget us when you’re famous.

I hope you didn’t mind that I’ve put that inside your folder. It’s because I’m almost positive that once you read all of this, none of it will matter. So I wanted to send it to wish you a quick good luck while you are wherever you are. Doing whatever it is you’re doing.

So, that is that.

All the best,
Pam



He wasn’t exactly floored by the entire thing, but in a sense he was. He sat on their bed, his eyes scanning the bedroom, roaming over her knick knacks and photos, her perfumes and make up that lined their dresser. Lately, with her gone, the realness of not having her around made the letter hold more weight than it should in his mind.

As the thoughts flowed through his subconscious, thinking of all the things she wanted that they finally both had, he couldn’t help feel the need to get it all out of his head and out in the open in front of him. He walked with purpose to their living room, holding her letter in his hand, setting it on the couch as he powered up his laptop, opened his email and began typing.


TO: PBeesly@gmail.com
FR: JHalpert@gmail.com

Subject: Those boxes in our closet

July 25, 2008

Dear Pam,

I’m not entirely sure where to begin. There is so much I want to tell you. And most of it I’m sure you know. You know how much I love you, how completely proud and happy I am that you’re going for something you want.

I’m sitting here, on our first Saturday apart, going through that box you told me to unpack, and I found this letter. I wasn’t going to tell you about it, that I read it, but I can’t keep that from you.

It wasn’t an epiphany for me, since most of the stuff in there I already knew. Except the part about you leaving the company to move on. I guess fair is fair. I did that, so, I definitely see why you would do it.

And if you weren’t at Pratt right now getting your education, I’d be really mad at both of us for holding you back just because I didn’t take that job last year. I want you to do what makes you happy. I want you to be able to achieve whatever it is you want.

I know life isn’t made up of perfection. You’re my perfection though, even in your imperfect ways, you’re utterly fantastic. I know that sometimes, no matter how badly you want something to happen, sometimes it just doesn’t go your way. I do hope that things do go your way with this though. I really hope that you’re able to make something out of this.

If you are, then we’ll figure it out together. And if you somehow find that you slip up, and things don’t go your way, just know that I’m not holding you back, I never ever want to do that. I never want to be the guy who stops you from doing something. I’ll always be here to support you.

It struck me as I was reading, how ready you were to write me off from your life. I guess I really did deserve it at that time. I hope you’re not so willing to do that anymore, and if I’m holding you back, please let’s talk about it. I hope that when you come home, you’ll be happy with our life here. If you’re not though, just say the word and we’re out of here.

I don’t know what else to say, other than I love you. The fact that I could have lost you completely last year can’t stand in the way of you pursuing something far greater than the both of us.

Whatever it is, I want to be by your side for it. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you into this life with me when you want something else.

In the end, I know that I could never ever forget you, for as long as I live. I know you’ve told me that you do want our life together. Here. But after reading that you would have just up and left this whole town behind if I weren’t there, it sort of jolted me into this – I don’t know, panic? I don’t know. Sometimes I’m irrational when you’re not around.

I miss you more than I can even tell you right now, and I know we have ten more weeks of this.

I don’t want you freaking out over there, I know you’ll just worry about me, and you need to focus on your work.

I just had to tell you this. To make sure that you know how willing I am to do whatever you need me to do, to be where ever you need me to be.

I love you,
Jim


**

TO: JHalpert@gmail.com
FR: PBeesly@gmail.com

RE: Those boxes in our closet

Hey,

Just got in from the group project, which did go well, I might add. And now I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to reply to this.

The easiest way would be to tell you – no, you’re not holding me back, and you’re stupid for even thinking that. Do you think I would be doing this if it weren’t for you pushing me? Probably not, and last year when I was ready to leave, it was because of you, not because I had this sudden need to fulfill my calling as an artist. It was 100% because you were going to be my boss. And I could not stand the thought of that, and I know I joked about it that one time ages ago (which went over real well, if you remember). But really, Jim, I was really going to take whatever job I could get in whatever state was furthest away from you, that company we work for and … really away from any kind of paper or sales or anything that would remind me of you.

So, to rephrase, that was then and this is now, but both reasons lead back to you. I’m doing this because of you, your faith in me and your encouragement. And to be honest, I’m not even sure I’m really liking this whole graphics world. The jury is still out on that.

But, the jury is not out on how much I want you, how much I love you, and how much I need to have you in my life for every single day I’m living it. At the end of the day a job is a job. I come home to you, and that’s all that matters.

Whether I succeed or fail, it’s not because you held me back, it’s because you pushed me forward, out of my comfort zone and into something I still may or may not even enjoy doing.

Either way, when this program is over and I have my certificate, I’m coming back. To you and to our life together. Because that is what matters most to me, above all else and everything in between.

So stop being stupid. I hope you got out and did something today. Or at the very least, you went to see Tyler play tee ball. Tell your family I say hello. And promise me two things. You’ll never think that you’re holding me back ever again. And number two, I need to see you next weekend. Please clear your schedule accordingly.

I love you with every single cell in my body.

Love,
Pam

**


“Did you throw out the box?”

“Nah, you should go through it first. There’s some stuff in there that you may want to keep.”

“Okay,” she nodded, inching herself closer to the webcam. “Did you get my reply?”

“I did. I’ll be in New York this Friday no later than six.”

“I’m holding you to it.”

“I’ll be there.”

“With bells on?” she grinned widely.

He chuckled at the thought. “Yeah.”

“So, where were we?”

“Second disk, third episode.”

“Okay, bring me in the living room.”

“Want something to drink?”

“That’s never not going to be funny, Jim.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, winked at the webcam and settled himself on the sofa, turning on the television and his DVD player as they began watching television together, the miles separating them negligible once again.

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August 11, 2008


For reasons she couldn’t quite figure out, she had little to no desire to get out of bed. It could have been the tapping of the rain on her windowsill, the gray dark sky illuminating her room just enough so it looked like it was about eight in the evening instead of the morning. It could be the bits of aggravation at just how difficult it was becoming to keep in her head the terminology and techniques she was learning in class from falling out of her brain bit by bit as she stepped closer to her dorm room.

Or, it really could be the fact that a kind of day such as this-distant thunder, faint lightening and the sound of pouring rain, that made her want to turn over close her eyes and pretend she was snuggled next to her boyfriend. If she listened closely enough, she could hear his snoring, feel his warm hand on her thigh and see his face next to hers.

Unsure if calling it a ritual was the right way to think of it, she turned over, as she had each morning since she had started Pratt, lifted a framed picture of Jim in her hands, and ran her fingers over his cheek and across his smiling lips.

To say she missed him beyond reasonable measure was an understatement – the understatement of the century. The strength he had given her, the love he had shown her and the life he had made possible for her was something she would never take for granted. Each morning, before rising from the small dorm room bed, she silently thanked him for being everything she never knew she always needed.

With a smile and a whispered good morning to him, she set the photo down in its rightful place next to her alarm clock and rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes as she sat up. Going over her daily game-plan in her mind as she milled around her room, gathering her toiletries, she decided she would spend a good portion of the day before her four o’clock class with her laptop attempting to create logo’s that were due soon.

In a series of what could only be described as unfortunate incidents, she managed to stub her toe on the way to the bathroom. Once inside, she hit her elbow on the doorknob, got soap in her eye as she washed her hair and almost fell backward into the shower as she dressed. She would have felt more annoyed or at least embarrassed by the entire malady. But the only thing she could do was laugh at the thought of retelling the tale to Jim later when they spoke.

Eyeing the clock, a sudden feeling of anxiousness fluttered within her. She tried to get some of her work done, settling herself in front of her laptop. A half hour passed before she realized she had only been working on her side project, something she hoped would make him laugh – a computer image of their coworker Dwight. She tried to ignore the fact that she found more satisfaction in that finished product than she had been attaining with her class projects.

She mindlessly surfed the internet instead – looking at venues and flower arrangements and things of the sort. Part of her was mindful of the fact that she was jinxing herself, the other part of her though, the part that had done this before, felt like she had never done it all before.

The hopeful feeling soon deflated when she heard his hesitation over the phone when she asked if she would see him during the coming weekend. Hiding her agitation was fairly simple, given his quick request to move their conversation to instant messenger. Her fingers were poised to write an in-depth message detailing how they absolutely had to see one another over the weekend, stopping mid sentence when his request to meet for lunch came through. Her initial response to decline was frozen in her fingers as she read his plea to meet half way, and his guarantee that she would be back for her class later that afternoon.

Not caring that they were indeed meeting at a highway rest stop, her excitement over seeing him in less than an hour boiled over into giddiness as she grabbed her coat and keys. The memory of him covered in sticky wet soda from the time the day they intended on going to an art festival in Manhattan during last year’s summer played in her mind as she drove. She recalled how once they arrived in the small city hotel room, getting him out of his sticky clothes led to them making use out of the hotel accommodations, completely missing the festival. That day, instead of walking through exhibits, they waded in the indoor pool and hot tub.

They returned to the hotel room afterward, slowly undressing one another as languid kisses became fevered. That night, as they lay tangled within the sheets, they whispered about their future for the first time.

As she drove toward their meeting place, she smiled fondly at the memory and silently hoped that they wouldn’t have to wait much longer to bring it all to fruition.

She arrived before him, stood and waited, ignoring onlookers with quirked eyebrows. She watched him get out of his car with his suit jacket over his head as he jogged toward her. Sensing a shift, she jokingly told him he had to buy her lunch, her adrenaline coursing through her veins the instant he dropped his jacket to the ground. She wanted to tell him that he just ruined an expensive piece of clothing.

And when he knelt before her, she saw not only him, the ring with the promise attached to him and his heart. She watched the past unravel as their future played in her mind, leaving no room for any other word other than yes.

It was as close as she had ever come to an out of body experience as he held her face in his hands and kissed her, their laughter marrying together in joined harmony. She closed her eyes and saw them in a park, playing with a little girl who was equal parts her and him. She saw a grayer, more wrinkled version of the both of them, sitting in rocking chairs on a porch, waving to their children and grandchildren.

She saw them standing on the edges of the Pacific Ocean, relaxing in their bed on Sunday mornings. She saw an altar, flowers, a clergy person and the man before her, exchanging vows that would last a lifetime.

She knew, right in that instant as they sealed her acceptance with kisses as the rain fell around them, for the first time in her life that she made the best decision she ever would make before or after or anytime in between.


**


They spent the remainder of their impromptu lunch huddled in the backseat of his car, sharing chips and a turkey sandwich. Between bites his lips would find their way to her cheek, his arm wound its way around her shoulder and their fingers linked together as they shared the silence of the moment – the only sound surrounding them having been the patter of rain on his windshield.

They said goodbye with deep kisses and longing glances, promising to talk later after her class and his work day. Neither cared that they were drenched from standing in the rain as they held tight to one another before going their separate ways.

If she was distracted from her school tasks earlier that morning, she was more than distracted when she returned, quickly changing from her still sopping clothes to some dry ones before heading to class, more or less unsure of how she got there. The only thing she was certain of was the smile she wore on her lips would never fade. Her ring caught her eye quite literally every three and a half minutes as she took notes. She was sure the instructor was speaking, but the only thing she heard within the confines of her eardrums was his voice, asking her if she was free for dinner.

She dipped her head, stared at the shimmering diamond, and thanked God for giving her a second chance.

And as she walked back to her dorm room, phone in hand as she began dialing her parent’s number, she heard the rustling of plastic and the very familiar sound of someone clearing their throat. When she looked up, she all but dropped her bag of books and supplies onto the floor as she fled into his open arms.

“Hi,” she said, her voice muffled in the material of his jacket.

“Hi,” he said, tilting her chin with his fingers before he leaned down and kissed her.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Wild boars couldn’t keep me away from you tonight.”

With a wide grin as her only reply, she reached up to kiss his cheek before unlocking her door. They stepped inside, setting their bags to the corners of the room and stepped back into a tight embrace, moving from side to side as they held to one another.

He lifted her into his arms, kissing her deeply as he glided toward her bed. She never believed in fairy tales, never thought of herself as anything all that special or worthy of a prince. But as he crawled on to the bed, his gaze drifting over her frame, the love exuding from his eyes and his touch, she felt like true royalty.

He rested his head next to hers, lightly touching her cheek with his thumb as he grinned, sighed a whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, her tone rich with emotion. Her eyes once again fell to her new ring. She ran the tip of her finger over the top of the diamond as a tear fell on her pillow. “I was thinking today, about how I don’t think I can ever live my life without you. And now, I know I don’t ever have to.”

He dried the moist skin underneath her eye, his hand drifting down her side slowly, sending goose-bumps along her arms. “You’re right,” he said softly. “Before I met you, I had no idea what anyone meant when they said they found their missing piece of their life puzzle. I know it took way too long to get here, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted since the minute I met you. I would be the dumbest person on the planet if I ever let you go.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Because you’re not getting this ring back.”

“That is more than fine by me. I don’t even know where the receipt, so you’re stuck with both of us,” he said, kissing her lips lightly.

“You didn’t put it in the bag of receipts we made last Christmas?”

“Oh, I got this way before you came up with that thing.”

“You’ve had this since before Christmas?”

“Way before.”

“Now you have to tell me when you got it,” she asked curiously, sliding her arms around his waist.

“How long have we been dating?” he asked, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Hmm,” she murmured, pressing her fingers into his back as she counted. She felt him doing the same. “Is that fifteen months?”

“Mm-hmm, yep.”

“You’ve had it for that long?”

“Yeah, I bought it a week after we started dating. The day I told you I went on the sales call, and then later that night, I’ll never forget this, you asked me if I sealed the deal, and it took every ounce of self control not to ask you right then and there.”

“Wow,” she intoned, gazing up to him as her hands slid up his arms and into his hair, her lips finding his as they rolled off the bed and onto her floor with a shared groan.

“We’re buying a king size bed when we get a house,” he said, his lips drawn to the spot under her earlobe.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Can we get a dog?”

“We’ll see,” she laughed. “Let’s get down the aisle first.”

“Okay, let’s do it. You name the day, I’ll be there.”

“Alright, how about we do it in fifteen months, in honor of how long we’ve dated?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I can wait that long,” he said, inching her shirt up her rib cage. “Make it fourteen.”

“Okay.”

He lifted her shirt over her head; his mouth hot on her skin as it moved from her neck to the skin that covered her beating heart, the world fell away as they reveled in their joy, slowly and painstakingly loving one another, sighs and moans and gasps filling the small room as he caressed every inch of her body. It made her feel whole, complete and more than loved and adored as they found a rhythm to their slow pace, exploring one another as if it were their first time all over again.

They moved together, the rumbling sound of thunder and flashes of lightening creating a mystical ambiance as they found their release, her cries rivaling the sound of the storm outside her window.

As they lay wrapped in a tight embrace, their breathing slowing to normal rates, he whispered, “My beautiful, perfect wife.”

“My husband,” she said, kissing his chest.

It wouldn’t be until hours later as they shared wonton noodles and egg rolls that she realized how natural and organic it felt to call him that. A lot needed to be done within the next year, all things she had done before. This time though, she looked forward to each phone call, reservation and seating chart with elation and anticipation.

.