She knew the holidays would be hard without him. Handing out candy by herself as little kids dressed as princesses and Power Rangers knocked on her door had her sobbing as soon as she turned her porch light off. She thought being surrounded by friends on Thanksgiving might make things a little easier, keep her distracted from the soul-crushing pain of him not being around, but it turns out breaking down in front of others feels worse than when she does it in solitude. Now it’s a week before Christmas and, honestly, she isn’t sure she’s going to be able to make it to the New Year.

It’s been almost two months since Mark died. At twenty-seven years old, Pam Beesly finds herself sitting alone in a house her and her late husband once called home but now feels too big, too quiet, too much like just a house. She has considered starting over. Getting all knew furniture and knick-knacks so she can walk around her house without the constant reminder that Mark isn’t down the hall anymore. Possibly down-sizing, maybe getting an apartment a little closer to town so that way when her Jeep breaks down, she doesn’t have to walk so far for work, but she can’t. Moving means packing up all of his things, and although the sight of his razor in the shower still makes her cry and seeing his shoes next to the door nearly kills her every morning, she couldn’t part with them if her own life depended on it.

So, she still uses the same bowls that he once ate Frosted Flakes, and only Frosted Flakes, out of in the morning, the comforter that he would hold her under as they slept still lays on their bed, and she sits on the same couch that they spent 75% of their life on, from movie nights to making out like teenagers to falling asleep after a long day on the boat with their friends, barely making it through the door before passing out.

That same couch is where Pam finds herself currently, curled up with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reminiscing for the millionth time since he died how if Mark were still here, they’d be eating their Friday night take-out as they talked about their days. She stares out the window, the winter storm outside almost matching the one in her head. She places a hand on the cold glass as she watches the snow pile up, the wind blowing it in every direction. The wind picks up and she watches the tree in her front yard sway around, its branches occasionally hitting the house before getting thrown in the other direction.

She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the glass, letting herself get lost in her thoughts and the blizzard outside. She can almost feel Mark sitting behind her, telling her that he’s going to have a hell of a time shoveling the driveway tomorrow and asking her if she thinks he could bribe the Scott boys from next door with some extra cash for the holidays. The feeling is lost when the branches knocking against the house get louder, ripping her out of her daydream. It’s not until she opens her eyes and looks out the window once more that she sees the tree is bending in the opposite direction of the house and the knocking is coming from her front door.

She stands up, letting the blanket fall to the floor as she wipes the stray tears from her cheeks and runs a hand through her hair, trying to tame her curls, lest it be one of her friends and they think they need to stay. The last thing she wants is to entertain any guests at the moment. She opens the door to find a teenage boy in a heavy winter coat and a giant box in his hands. She folds her arms over her chest, trying to block out as much as the cold air as possible as she greets him.

“Hi, you’re Pam, right? Pam Beesly?”

“Yeah, I am.” She glances down at the box then back up at him, “Can I help you with something?”

“My dad told me to drop this off for you. Said it was real important, and with this storm he figured you may need it sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head, trying to recognize where she may know this kid from. “I’m sorry, your dad? Do I know him?”

“I would think so... Dwight Schrute. Your husb- or, uh, I mean Mark and him were coworkers when they were younger.”

“Oh, Dwight. Right, of course. How is he? And Angela?”

“Both doing well, getting prepared for the winter. Dad says the farm produced plenty of crops for us to get by but Mom’s not so sure.” He rolled his eyes and smiled a little before handing over the box to Pam. “Anyway, I better get back before the roads get any worse than they already are, I just wanted to make sure this got to you.”

“What is it?”

“Can’t say, just don’t shake it and keep this side up, okay? Have a good evening, Ms. Beesly, and Merry Christmas!”

He was down the porch steps and in his truck before she could even muster a reply. She shook her head and gently kicked the door closed behind her as she brings the box into the living room. She sets it down in front of the Christmas tree that she debated on getting for so long that by the time she decided to pick one up, all that were left were ones similar to what you would see in a Charlie Brown cartoon. She brought it home anyway, hoping it would make the house feel just a bit more normal if she decorated. Distractions, she has come to find out, are the only way to get through the day until she can get home and cry herself to sleep after all the distractions are gone.

She grabs the blanket off the floor and wraps it around her shoulders once more before sitting down in front of the box, wondering what it is that Dwight Schrute of all people had that was so important she had to have it tonight, in the middle of a blizzard. He seemed like a nice guy, sure, but she barely knew him. She met him once when she first moved here and again a few months later when he came into her shop for a Christmas present for his wife. Besides that, it was only friendly waves as they passed on the street and the occasional story from Mark about when they used to work together or if Mark visited their farm every now and then for some fresh vegetables. She wondered for a moment if the box was full of beets, corn, and potatoes. Wondered if Dwight thought she was so far gone that she couldn’t even provide food for herself. The box seemed too light be be that, but based off of the stories she’s heard, she wouldn’t be that surprised.

She takes a deep breath and pulls off the top, surprised to not see anything at first besides an envelope taped to the side. It wasn’t until she looked again that she saw a little brown ball camouflaged in the corner of the box.  She wasn’t sure what it was, only that it was an alive because she could see it breathing. But it was so small and huddled into a tight ball in the corner, she could only see its back and the top of its head. It seemed to be sleeping, though, so she reaches for the envelope instead. When she turns it around, the name Pam in a handwriting she knows all too well makes her head spin and her breathing stop. That handwriting has been on love notes written only for her, on messages scribbled on the whiteboard near the fridge telling her they were out of milk, on papers scattered throughout the house as he would start a project and never finish it, the only proof of it existing being those papers she always asked him to clean up, but he never did. Those papers were one of the very few things that annoyed her about Mark, but now she would do anything in order to have them back.

She stops, not allowing herself to get swallowed up by her thoughts, at least not until she figures out what it is that is sleeping in a box in her living room and why her dead husband’s handwriting is on the front of this envelope. She turns it around and lifts the flap up, taking out the piece of notebook folded up inside. She glances down at the little brown ball again before unfolding the letter, tears instantly falling down her cheeks as she reads Pammy- on the top line, the nickname only Mark called her. She takes another deep breath, trying to calm her mind and breathing all at once, before starting the letter over.

Pammy-

If you’re reading this, it means that I’m already gone. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone, but I needed to write this letter to you before it was too late. Remember that time I went to the Schrutes’, saying we were out of a few things for dinner and it was too late to go to the store? Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I did need a few things but I also talked to him about the little guy, or girl, who’s with you right now. He raises Great Dane puppies, and I always wanted one as a kid. Mom always said no, that they were too big and would eat us out of house and home, but they’re the sweetest dogs ever and when I found out that Dwight raised them, I knew I had to ask for one for you. Of course, if you don’t want it, you don’t have to keep it. Dwight said he would take it back, no problem. But if you do decide to keep it, I hope it helps you.

I know what you’re going through must be so hard. I know I would be a mess if our situation was flipped and I had a chance of losing you. I wouldn’t know how to go on with my life. But you need to, Pam. You need to get past this, live your life without fear or sadness, you need to find happiness again. Find someone who will make you happy. It may seem like that’s impossible right now, but there’s someone else out there for you. Someone who will make you smile and laugh and love life like we did with each other. Take your time, but find someone new, I need you to be happy, that’s the most important thing. Until you’re ready, though, I hope this pup will help you. I hope it gives you the love and stability you need until the world seems a little brighter again. I also hope that they are a constant reminder that I’m always there with you, even when it seems like I’m not. I promise I’m watching over you, I hope you never forget that.

 I love you so much, Pammy.

-Mark

Pam held the letter close to her chest, tears streaming down her face as she sniffled and tried to gain her composure. After a moment she laid the letter down on the floor beside her so she could look back into the box. The puppy, she now knew, was awake, looking up at her, seeming as broken, confused, and alone as she felt right now. She smiles gently and scoops it up, not knowing how this dog who is supposed to one day be as big as a small horse is now just barely bigger than the palm of her hand. She finds out that the pup is a boy, and as she pets the top of his head, he starts to whine.

“Shh, it’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise. You’re safe now.”

The dog looks up at her again, almost as if trying to decide if he should trust her or not. After a few seconds, he starts to howl again, though this time she can tell there’s no fear behind it. She chuckles and pets his head once more before cradling him close to her chest and whispering, “I think I’m going to call you Singer.”

Four years later.

Pam loved Singer, really. What she didn’t love was waking up barely able to breathe, because Singer decided she looked more comfortable than his memory foam dog bed or the unoccupied half of her queen-sized mattress. She knew Great Danes were big dogs, but she severely underestimated just how painful it was when they laid on top of you. She groans and tries to shove him off, but he only adjusts his position, squishing her further.

“Singer, off, you’re killing me.” When he doesn’t move, she rolls her eyes and shoves him once more, “I’m serious, get off. Let’s go.”

With this, Singer finally lifted his head and turned to look at her, looking perplexed, as if to say “What’s the issue? I’m trying to sleep here.” After another shove, he finally gets up, pressing his paws into her as he does so, and hops off the bed as Pam tries to breathe normally again. She looks over at him as she sits up and stretches, “You have got to stop doing that. One of these days I’m not going to wake up because of you.” She swears he rolls his eyes, as dramatic as he is, and she sighs, slipping on her glasses and walking out of the bedroom, Singer following closely behind. “C’mon, let’s get you outside.”

She opens the back door and steps outside into the warm summer air. Winters were pretty brutal in northern Pennsylvania, but the summers made it worth trudging through all the snow each year. Singer all but jumps down the five deck stairs leading to the tree lined backyard and starts his morning ritual of surveying the perimeter. She sometimes wonders how she got the one dog in the world who feels more human than she does some days.

It’s not that she’s not grateful for Singer’s human-like qualities. It made training him a breeze, he was able to learn a command after being shown how to do it only once. He seems to fully understand anything she says, and almost always responds appropriately. She’s sure her neighbors think she’s crazy when she’s ranting in the backyard over a margarita, having a full on conversation with what should be another person, but then look over and she’s actually talking to a dog who huffs and whines after each complaint, as if his life is also affected by the toilet getting clogged for the third time that week. But he has helped her in so many ways since he entered her life four and a half years ago, so if he thinks that sniffing every tree in sight will somehow help her, she’ll let him.

She steps back inside, knowing he won’t be ready to come in for at least ten minutes, and heads to the bathroom to shower before work. She glances at herself in the mirror as she undresses. Her auburn curls resemble more of a lion’s mane than she would like. She can see some remaining eyeliner smudged under her eyes, mostly hidden behind the thick frames of her glasses. And even though she still has a light imprint on her left cheek from her pillowcase, she can’t help but think that for the first time since Mark has died, she feels pretty good.

Because now she’s past the searing pain that came along anytime Mark entered her mind. The grief is gone, now replaced with a smile as she remembers their time together. Everything he did for her and what they accomplished together. She still misses him, of course, but she doesn’t cry herself to sleep anymore or break down when she sees a picture of him. Instead, she holds her memories of him close to her as she does what he asked her to do, live her life without fear and find happiness once again.

Which is why she started dating a couple of months ago. She didn’t plan to start up again right now, but then Toby came into her shop. He wasn’t the best looking guy in the world, not that she’s superficial or anything of the sort, but he seemed shy and sweet, so when he finally mustered up the courage to ask her out three weeks later, she figured why not. She knew it wouldn’t go very far, but she saw it as a good opportunity to dip her toes back into the dating pool. Turns out, one date with Toby was one too many for her. He took her out to Cugino’s, a small Italian restaurant in the middle of town, and within the first five minutes she was already dreading being there. Even the other patrons quickly caught on to her misery, and after an hour of Toby talking of nothing but HR and his horrible boss, she received far more pitiful glances than she ever did the first few weeks after Mark’s death. One more hour later, he drove her home, she let him kiss her cheek as they said their goodbyes, and she has been avoiding his calls ever since.

Then she met Alan at Cooper’s, who she thought she could actually go further with. He was an artist just like her, he laughed at all her jokes, even if they weren’t all that funny, he actually let her talk about herself every now and then. She couldn’t figure out why he was still single at 34, until their second date when he got a way too comfortable way too fast and if he wasn’t trying to outright palm her breasts, he made no secret of staring at them, even after she called him out on it… twice. Needless to say, there wasn’t a third date.

She met Brian through a mutual friend. She liked him, good looking, appreciated her career, knew about Mark and was even able to share a couple of high school stories she hadn’t heard before. But then she asked him to elaborate on his job, and when she found out exactly what he did, she knew this date would be the last. Brian, she found out, worked in the sewers. As soon as she heard that, she couldn’t help but picture the stereotypical greasy-haired, dirty, smelly man that most associate with that kind of job, even if Brian resembled none of that. She could appreciate his work and knew someone had to do it, but she knew she wouldn’t get past it, no matter how nice he was. So, she wished him a good night an hour later and then laid in bed wondering if anyone even just a little bit normal still exists out there.

And then she met Roy. He walked into her shop last week, thinking it was a souvenir store instead of an art studio, looking to buy a trinket for his mom. He ended up walking out with one of Pam’s paintings, a watercolor of the Scranton skyline, and her number, with a promise to pick her up on Sunday at six, and Pam couldn’t have been more delighted. Roy was tall and built, she found out at dinner that he did play football in high school, just like she thought. He was thoughtful, asking her as many questions as she asked him, kind, opening doors and pulling out her seat, and funny, making her laugh until there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He drove her home and asked if she would like to go out on a second date next weekend, to which she happily agreed. His grin matched hers and he opened his mouth to say something else, but then Singer started growling from the other side of the door, so he politely kissed her cheek, and then they wished each other goodnight.

That was one aspect about Singer she hadn’t quite figured out yet, his protectiveness. He was always protective of her, always keeping a close eye on new people who got a little too close for his liking, growling at those he especially didn’t like, and if he was in a particularly bratty mood, would sometimes even push Pam away from anyone he didn’t deem worthy of her time. She knew he had something against men, didn’t like them since he was a puppy. But he had been acting even more strange ever since she started dating. It was like he felt there was suddenly competition, and he was the only one who was allowed to win. The more men who dropped her off, the more Singer growled, trying to show his dominance, and Pam quickly realized that Singer is basically a giant, furry, jealous boyfriend. Which is why she told him to cut it out as she walked inside after Roy had dropped her off. He obeyed, of course, but not before giving one more dramatic huff at the door and then going into the bedroom and pouting like a toddler for the rest of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that dog.

She shakes her head and quickly finishes undressing and then hops into the shower. She lathers her hair with shampoo, trying to erase the thoughts of bad first dates and crazy dog antics. Her mother, as toxic as she was, always told her not to dwell on the past, especially if you’re only going to remember the worst of it. That’s the only bit of advice that she takes seriously from that woman. If Pam thought that she wasn’t having any luck with men, then she wouldn’t even know where to begin with her mother. It seemed like every other day she would come home from school to her mother drunk and with a new man. Growing up in the small town of Boone, North Carolina, Pam wasn’t sure how her mother kept finding new guys to drink and hook up with. For the most part she didn’t mind, though, as she would hide in her room, only coming out for the bathroom and something to eat. It wasn’t until Pam was older and her mother’s “friends” would suddenly be interested in her instead. She was able to blow the first few off, getting into her room and locking the door behind her before they even realized she left them in the middle of a conversation. Until she was 18 and one guy wouldn’t leave her alone, trying to shower her with compliments and promises of a good time to which she would roll her eyes, willing the microwave to cook her leftover spaghetti faster. Then he grabbed her wrist and wouldn’t let go, only releasing after she bit his hand hard enough to draw blood, the distraction long enough for her to leave the house, her dinner forgotten. She tried to tell her mom about it the next day, but she quickly found out that was the wrong thing to do because an hour later she was homeless with only one small suitcase full of clothes to her name.

She didn’t like living on the streets, not that she thought anyone would. During the day wasn’t too bad, she was able to stay clean enough to hang out in libraries or cafés after school without alarming anyone, but nights were scary. She never slept, too afraid that someone or something would see her alone and vulnerable. This meant a couple of detentions for falling asleep in class, but she didn’t mind, it was an extra hour she didn’t have to worry about finding a place to stay. After she graduated, she finally found a diner that would hire her full time, and she worked every shift that they would let her, trying to save up for a house, or an apartment, or a trailer, or really anything that would get her off the streets.

Two months later is when she met Mark. As a traveling salesman, he was visiting North Carolina on a business trip, driving through Boone to get to Charlotte. She had decided it was fate that he stopped in this nowhere town, choosing a small, run down, 24-hour diner to eat lunch at just as she was starting her shift. He turned to her as he pulled out his wallet in order to pay for his meal, “If I come back tomorrow, will you be here?”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. “I thought you were on your way to Charlotte?”

He smiled and put a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, double what his total had been, and stands up, “I was, but I think something more important came up.”

She couldn’t help the blush the crept up onto her cheeks as she smiled back and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

True to his word, Mark returned the next day, same time, and sat in the same stool at the counter. She was glad Thursdays were slow, so she could spend most of her time talking to him. When he found out that she wasn’t living anywhere yet, her paychecks much lower than she had hoped they would be even with all the hours she puts in, he seemed to contemplate something before taking the last bite of his sandwich and pulled out his wallet once more.

He pulled out another twenty but then also pulled out a small business card and laid both down on the counter before looking back up at her. “Unfortunately, I can’t put off this sale any longer and I’m heading to Nashville after Charlotte, so I won’t be able to come back here, but listen. I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to trust me outside of my word, but I’ll be back in Scranton in a week. If you ever find yourself up there, I can get you a job and a place to stay, if you want it. If you don’t, well, I hope I run into you again, sometime.”

Two weeks later Pam found herself in Scranton, Pennsylvania, stepping off the bus with her suitcase in one hand and Mark’s business card in the other. She was taking a risk, trusting the word of a man she had spoken to twice, hoping he would keep his promise and she wouldn’t be homeless once again, this time in a foreign city, but she couldn’t help but feel like there was something about him that she could trust. So, she goes up to the first payphone she can find and dials his number, his voice coming through on the second ring.

Just like he said in North Carolina, he met up with her less than an hour later and brought her to meet his Aunt Jolene, who Pam loved immediately. Jolene, or Jo as she insisted on being called, was older, with short, gray hair and square glasses that she wore just above the tip of her nose. She had a southern accent, stronger than Pam’s, having grown up in Florida until Mark’s mother died and she moved up to Scranton to help her brother raise two young kids. Jo owned an art studio right in the middle of town, where she hired Pam to clean brushes and sweep floors in exchange for a steady paycheck and a small apartment above the studio, which was all Pam could have ever asked for.

It wasn’t until almost six months later that her and Mark actually started dating. She had dropped hints, pretty obvious ones too, that she was interested, but it wasn’t until she talked to Jo and asked her if he even liked her that he got the hint and asked her out. Their first date was at Benihana’s, where they stayed so late that the waiters all but shoved them out the door. They continued the night walking through downtown, Mark pointing out little hidden gems that one only knows if you’ve lived there all your life. He walked her home, and she kissed him goodnight, knowing if it took him this long to ask her out, she didn’t want to know how long it would be until he kissed her, before heading inside where Jo sat, anticipating every detail of her night.

The following year with Mark was full of more dates, from take out nights at home to walks through the park to the occasional fancy restaurant where they pretended to be better people than they actually are for an hour before going back to one of their apartments, changing into sweatpants, and binging out on ice cream before falling asleep to a sitcom on TV. The year ended with Mark down on one knee and ten months later, Pam walked down the aisle. During all of this, Mark introduced Pam to his best friend Jim, Jim’s brother Danny, and Danny’s wife Karen. Pam was grateful that she fit into the friend group seamlessly, all three of them accepting her as if she had been a part of their lives for forever.

It wasn’t until five years after they got married that things took a turn for the worse. What started as headaches turned into migraines which ended up with Mark in the hospital where he was diagnosed with the tumor in his brain. It was slow growing, but the doctors warned that it could be fatal and given its position, it was too risky to surgically remove without leaving Mark with some form of brain damage. They opted for chemo instead, praying that it would be enough to remove the cancer and save him. It worked for a few months, stopping the tumor’s growth and even very slightly shrinking it, before it stopped working. Eventually the chemo got to be too much and with no success towards it shrinking the tumor, they made the hard decision to stop and wait it out, maybe try again in the future if needed.

Things seemed okay for a couple of years, Mark was on some medication which had the tumor growing very little, the doctors pleased with the size as they got it measured every couple of months. Then Mark passed out after having a seizure the summer before he died, and when Pam brought him to the hospital, they found out the tumor had almost doubled in size since he was last seen. From then on, Mark was almost constantly in the hospital, only going home for a day or two at a time when they requested and if he was healthy enough at the moment. It was only a couple months later that they knew it wouldn’t be long before he was gone, and then a couple months after that he had died.

Jo had been an angel to her throughout all of this. Of course, everyone she had met these past few years helped when they could, but Jo seemed to always be right there, exactly when and how Pam needed her most. As soon as Mark had been diagnosed, Jo had Pam start painting. Pam had always enjoyed art, and would often doodle while answering phones or watching Jo paint, but she never picked up a brush herself unless she was about to clean it. But Jo told her that art has saved her life so many times, helped her clear her head and be able to start fresh whenever she felt like it, every blank canvas a new opportunity, and maybe it’ll do the same for her. So, Pam started painting. Simple things at first, flowers, mountains, the occasional animal. With more and more practice and advice from Jo, she started painting misty forests and beaches at sunset. She would paint her and Mark on their first date or her and all of her new friends laughing around a poker table. Eventually, Jo also started paying for Pam to go to an art school a couple of towns over so she could hire Pam as an actual artist and make a decent paycheck instead of the pennies she was making currently. Pam denied at first, saying she would pay for it for herself, but Jo insisted, saying, “As long as you keep making that boy happy like you are right now, then it’s my pleasure.”

Which is how Pam is now the second best artist of Bennett Studio, which isn’t as big as a compliment as she likes to think it is, considering there’s only one other artist besides Jo who works there, but that’s beside the point.

Pam finishes getting dressed as Singer finishes his breakfast and then they’re both out the door. She almost misses the small, light blue envelope that is wedged between her mailbox and its flag, the corner of it catching her eye as she walked down her driveway. She takes it out and opens it up, seeing “I had a great time last night. I hope you did too. Talk soon? -Roy” written on a yellow post-it note inside. She smiles and slips the paper back into the envelope before turning to Singer and saying, “See? I told you he was a good guy. Now don’t you feel silly for barking up a storm last night?” Singer huffed and started walking ahead, done with this conversation. She laughed and followed him, walking to work as her Jeep is once again getting repairs. She’s about two blocks away when she hears her name being called from across the street and she grins when she turns to see Jim waving and walking towards her. Singer looks up at her, asking permission to go ahead and she nods, so he runs up, meeting Jim halfway. Jim scratches his ear and pets the top of his head as he closes the gap between him and Pam.

“Hey, your car is done, finished it up about an hour ago.”

“What was wrong with it?”

“The alternator, like I thought. You also had an oil leak, so I took care of that.”

“I had an oil leak?”

Jim chuckles, “Yeah, didn’t you see a stain on your driveway?”

She shrugs, “I guess I never looked. Well, thanks for doing that. How much do I owe you?”

“Hmm… well, my mom’s birthday is coming up. You know that painting you did for her last year? How about you paint her something to go with it and we’ll call it even.”

Pam rolls her eyes, “Jim, you know I can pay you. Like, with actual cash.”

“It’s fine. The parts were easy to get and it didn’t take that long to fix. The guy who sold me the new alternator owes me a favor, anyway.”

“Does Danny know you’re doing this?”

Jim covers his heart with his hand, acting as if he was shocked that she would ask such a thing, “Of course he knows. We’re partners. And anyway, it was his idea.”

Of course it was, she thought. Instead, she sighs, “Fine, but next time, I’m paying you. With real money. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

He grins, his voice just short of sing-songy when he says, “Yeah, okay, we’ll see.”

She rolls her eyes once more but can’t help herself from matching his lopsided smile that she has come to find out is so very Jim. She watches as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and he seems to be debating on whether or not he wants to say something when he finally asks, “How was your date last night? With… uh..”

“Roy?”

“Right, yeah, Roy. How was your date with Roy?”

“It was nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He pauses, unsure of what to say next but not wanting the conversation to end. “Uh, what did you do?”

“Just went out to eat. Had dinner, some wine, split dessert, you know. Usual date stuff.”

She made sure not to tell him about Roy kissing her on the cheek as they said goodnight or leaving her a note sometime late last night. She likes Jim, he’s her closest friend. The kind of friend who didn’t come by very often and if you were lucky enough to find someone like him, you don’t let anything happen that would make it even a little bit possible to lose him. That’s why she didn’t mind telling him about Alan or Toby or Brian, because she knew those things were short lived and he would have a ball laughing at her misfortune when it came to dating again. But now that she found someone who, for the first time since Mark had died, she could maybe see a future with, if things continued the way they are right now? She can’t get herself to tell him the details. So, she keeps her answers short and sweet, giving just enough information so he doesn’t feel like she’s blowing it off but still keeping it as private as possible. Because she doesn’t want to see him hurt. Jim is… well… he isn’t very subtle about his feelings towards her. She knows that he has a crush on her, has known that for a few years now. Knows that he may have even liked her while she was with Mark, though she hasn’t confirmed that yet. Nonetheless, she knows that Jim wants to ask her out, but she’s conflicted about it. He was Mark’s childhood best friend. They grew up together, were basically brothers. Jim was Mark’s best man at their wedding. Wouldn’t it be weird if she started dating him? Would it mean that she secretly always wanted to? She’s not sure. So, for now, she doesn’t. She keeps her dating life and friendships separate, until she can figure out what she wants.

“Sounds like you had a good time.”

“We did. We had fun.”

“I’m glad.” He lied, though he tried to sound happy for her. He hopes she bought it.

“Don’t worry, Jim. You know you’re the most important person to me, right?”

He slumps his shoulders a bit, “That’s just because I fix your car.”

“Don’t be silly, you also fixed my kitchen pipe last week.”

“And your washing machine.”

She squeezes his arm as she walks past him, walking backwards as she says, “What can I say, Jim? You’re my best friend,” before turning back around and continues walking to work, Singer following right behind her.

***

Jim watches Pam walk away for a moment before turning around and heading back to work himself. He could see Danny leaning up against the garage door frame waiting for him and inwardly sighed, not wanting to deal with his brother’s torment at the moment, but knowing it’s inevitable.

“How’d it go?”

Jim feigned confusion and hopes he sounds casual when he responds, “How did what go?”

“Her date with Roy.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business. Besides, I don’t care about her date.”

Danny chuckled, “No? So, what were you talking about?”

“I was just letting her know that her car is done.”

“Already? She just dropped it off yesterday.”

“It was just replacing the alternator and fixing an oil leak.”

“What did you charge her this time?”

Jim turns and walks past Danny, grabbing his coveralls from the hook on the wall. “A painting for Mom to go with the one she got last year.”

Danny whistles, “You’re lucky I’m the one running the numbers here. We’d be bankrupt if it were all up to you.”

He rolls his eyes, “You would have given her a discount, too.”

“Sure.”

“So, what does it matter?”

“Because I want to know how her date went.”

Jim steps into the coveralls, pulling them up over his waist and slipping his arms through the sleeves, “I already told you I didn’t ask her about it.”

Danny raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. I was just hoping to compare stories, that’s all.”

Jim pauses in the middle of zipping up his uniform and looks up at his brother, “What do you mean?”

Danny smirks and starts walking towards his office. “I was talking to Jo after church yesterday. We usually go to morning service, but Karen had a fundraiser for the school, so we went to the evening service and ran into Jo at fellowship.” He turns back to Jim, now leaning on his office door frame. “She had just gotten back from a very interesting dinner where she so happened to be able to see and hear just about everything Pam and Roy did last night. She told me most of it, but I was curious if Pam had shared any extra details with you.” He shrugs and pushes off the frame, turning around and goes into his office. “But since you don’t care about it, I won’t bore you with any stories.” He looks back over his shoulder, “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Hudson dropped off her Lincoln while you were talking to Pam, she’s hoping to get it back by the end of the day.”

With that, he closes the door behind him, leaving Jim in half-zipped coveralls, jaw slacked, and wondering how on Earth he was going to be able to get the details of Pam’s date out of Danny without him holding this over Jim’s head for the rest of eternity.

Jim had always planned on being some sort of artist growing up. While music was always on the forefront of that dream, he wasn’t against being an actor or painter or even an author if it came down to it. He did everything he had to do to achieve it, too. Took guitar classes from elementary school all throughout high school, joined choir in middle school, theatre in junior high. He worked hard in all of his art classes, even earning a spot in the hallway once or twice. He would practice all of these skills after school, Danny begging him to please shut up as the hours grew later and Jim’s voice and guitar grew louder. But he kept practicing, even to this day, believing his big break is right around the corner.

Until then, Jim found himself playing with various local bands on the weekends. It’s not ideal, and it certainly isn’t what he pictured his life being as a kid, but he’ll take what he can get. After all, Jim’s voice left a lot to be desired. Recording executives weren’t exactly knocking down his door offering record deals. He could play guitar, though, which earned him gigs with whatever local band would take him in and even the occasional solo gig if no one else could play. He could play anything from 80’s rock and roll to country. He would even dress the part, leather pants and vests to cowboy boots and hats, hoping to show everyone how serious he took this. However, every few weeks, without fail, the lead singer would pull him aside and say it wasn’t working out. After about seven bands throwing him the same spiel, Jim knew it probably wasn’t just a personality conflict that got him replaced, though he still couldn’t get himself to admit that he may just not be very good.

However, even though Jim couldn’t sing, he could fix almost anything. Whether it was a broken pipe, a computer that had seemingly died, or a roof that needed patched, there was rarely something Jim struggled to repair. And if he was a good handyman, he was a modern-day Einstein when it came to anything with four wheels and an engine. He could listen and hear other pings and clicks where no one else could, figure out the problem within a couple of minutes and usually have it fixed within a couple of hours. Which is why, when his music wasn’t getting him very far and Danny asked if he wanted to join him in opening up a garage, he took him up on it.

And Jim likes working with his brother. Danny takes care of all the papers and background work, while Jim can do something he likes, something he’s really good at.

Something he’s usually really good at, anyway. Today, however, Jim can’t stop making mistake after mistake. This repair is second nature to him, but the bolt won’t come off the engine and he’s already nicked himself twice trying to get it off.  The problem was he couldn’t stop thinking about Pam. Or, more specifically, he couldn’t stop thinking about Pam’s date. It was nice. What does that mean? We had fun. How much fun? Did they go somewhere fancy? Did Roy take her home? Did he kiss her? With that thought, Jim lost his grip and the wrench fell deep into the engine. He groans and runs a hand over his face before deciding a soda break is needed before he destroys the engine and owes the customer a new car. He leans against the back wall as he opens his grape soda and can see Danny on his computer, filling out some type of form.

He realizes that he doesn’t care that Pam didn’t tell him about her date, or whether or not Roy kissed her goodnight (okay, maybe he does care a little bit about that). What is driving him crazy, though, is that his brother knows all about it and won’t tell him, and he can’t just go in and ask. He has to find a way to be casual about it. Have Dany bring it up, maybe without even realizing it. Somehow get him to tell Jim everything he knows while thinking it was all his own idea. That he wanted to tell Jim, not the other way around. A couple of minutes later, he downs the last of his soda before setting it down and walking over to Danny’s office, hoping he can pull this off.

Danny looks up at Jim as he opens the office door and sits down across from him. He leans back in his chair, stuffing the rest of his powdered donut into his mouth as Jim crosses his legs and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“How’s the repair going?”

Jim shrugs, “It’s getting there.”

“Usually you have this kind of thing done by now.”

“I guess I’ve just been thinking about something.”

Danny looks down and pretends to shuffle some papers together in order to hide his smirk. He knew why Jim had come into his office, could see it written all over his face the moment the door opened, but he also wanted to see how Jim would go about this. “Oh yeah?” He sets the papers back down and looks back up, resting his chin on his fist, “What’s up, little brother?”

“I was thinking of going back to church with you, Karen, and the kids.”

Danny’s eyebrows rise, certainly not expecting him to go that route. “Really? You haven’t been to church since you moved out.”

“I know but I think it would be good for me. Get me out of the house on the weekend, catch up with some old friends, that kind of stuff.”

Danny nods, still not completely sure where Jim is going with this but deciding to play along anyway, “Okay, yeah, sure. Do you want us to pick you up or will you meet us there?”

Jim leans back, spreading his legs out in front of him and resting his elbows on the armrests, his hands meeting together on his lap. “Well, before we get to that, I just wanted to know a couple things first. Like, how’s the new pastor? Do people like his sermons?”

“Yeah. Some people are still hoping that Pastor Martin comes back but overall, he’s well liked, few complaints.”

“Good. That’s good. What about after the sermon? What’s that like?”

“Fellowship? Same as always. Some snacks, everyone talking to each other.”

“What do people talk about?”

“Why don’t you just wait until Sunday to find out? Service starts at nine.”

“Nine. Got it. But, I mean, just as an example, what were people talking about yesterday?”

“Hmm… I’m not really sure. I was too busy talking to Jo.”

Bingo, Jim thinks, looking down to hide his slight smile, Just as I planned. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at Danny, “Jo, huh?”

Danny nods, reaching for another donut and splitting it in half, putting the one side down before responding, “Yeah. Like I said, we usually go to different services but I’m glad I ran into her. We talked for a long time, and man, she told me some interesting stuff.” He takes a bite of the donut, chewing purposefully slow before swallowing and going back to pretending to sort out papers on his desk. “But it was all about Pam’s date and you don’t care about that kind of stuff, so I won’t bore you with the details.”

Jim’s eyes widen, his plan suddenly crumbling before him. “Uh… well, I mean…”

Danny smirks, looking back up at Jim, “What? That is what you said, isn’t it? Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Jim could feel the color draining from his face, but could do nothing more than stammer out a pathetic, “Uh…”

Danny laughs, deciding to end Jim’s torture before he passed out, even though he is thoroughly enjoying watching Jim squirm. He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and looks at Jim seriously. “Answer me this, Jim. Why do you keep pretending you don’t want to go out with Pam?”

“We’re just friends.” The answer comes out automatically, sounding almost robotic even to Jim’s ears.

Danny rolls his eyes, “Is it because of Mark?”

Jim looks down, picking at the skin on his thumb. Danny waits a moment to see if he’ll say anything and when he doesn’t, he speaks up instead. “Mark’s been gone for a long time now. It’s not like you’re trying to steal his wife.”

Jim’s eyebrows furrow and he looks up at Danny, “So why do you keep acting like I shouldn’t go out with her? Like last summer on the boat?” Jim shakes his head, trying to rid the memory of Danny spilling his beer all over Jim just before he finally got the courage to ask Pam out.

“Because she wasn’t ready last year. She wasn’t even ready six months ago. But she’s ready now.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. He also didn’t know how he was Pam’s best friend, but Danny was the one who knew when she was ready to start dating again. After a minute he finally says, “It’s not that easy.”

“I know it’s not that easy. You think it was easy for me to ask Karen out for the first time? There were so many guys who wanted to go out with her, but I knew the worst thing that could happen would be that she says no.”

“That’s different though. You two were crazy for each other even before you started dating, Karen even told me that she liked you way before you asked her out.”

“But I didn’t know that. I just had to give it my best shot.”

“But Karen wasn’t married to your best friend.”

“No, she wasn’t. But Karen and I also weren’t friends before I asked her out like you and Pam are.”

Jim sighs, “That’s part of the problem, though. What if me asking her out changes things between us?”

“Things are already changing between you two.”

“No, they aren’t. Not really.”

Danny shrugged, “Sure they are, otherwise you wouldn’t be in here right now trying to get the details about her date from me. She would have told you herself. She told you about Toby, didn’t she? And Alan?”

This time Jim shrugged and mumbled, “I guess.”

“Hey.” Danny waits for Jim to look up at him and smiles a little. “You gotta take a chance on something, sometime, Jim. Do you really want to watch her get married to someone else, never letting her know how you feel?”

Jim shakes his head and stands up as Danny nods and turns back to his computer. He walks out of the office and glances over at the art studio, knowing that Danny’s right, even if he hates to admit it.

***

Although Kelly Kapoor earned a degree in fine arts two years ago and has been working at Jo’s studio for almost a year, sometimes Pam can’t believe they hold the same job title. She seemed to take more personal days than work days, usually not even bothering to call in. When she did show up, she worked just hard enough to earn her wage, though Pam is pretty sure the only reason Jo has kept Kelly around this long is because she attracts men, who would otherwise never step foot into the studio, to leave with multiple purchases and usually Kelly’s phone number.

Kelly also had a tendency to create paintings almost identical to each other. Sure, sometimes colors were changed or maybe lines were painted on a little thicker, but both Pam and Jo both now know that when they hear an accomplished done! from across the room, they are going to see a field with flowers, specifically roses, because they’re soooo romantic. If Kelly was feeling especially creative, she may even add a sunset, but that was a special treat.

The men don’t care though. Pam’s pretty sure the paintings never see the light of day after they’ve left the studio. As long as the guys leave with Kelly’s number and a promise for a date, they’re happy and will keep coming back, as if hypnotized by Kelly’s long, dark hair and pretty smile. It’s kind of sad, really, how naïve Kelly is about men. She thinks she knows what they want, and in some ways, she is right about that, but the problems come after her dates. She doesn’t  know how to hold on to her man. It doesn’t help that the short skirts, low cut tops, and long boots she wears every day, whether it’s 90 degrees or blizzarding out, tends to attract the kind of men that don’t want to be held onto. She has no trouble scoring dates with men covered in tattoos, only drove motorcycles, and spent every night at Poor Richard’s despite never having a job, but when it comes to finding any man with standards, that’s where Kelly struggles.

That is, of course, until Kelly saw Roy. She’s pretty sure that is the first time she saw a man in a suit and wasn’t immediately turned off. She gave her best smile and flirtatiously flipped her hair over her shoulder, and yet all she got in return was a polite smile back and getting to overhear Roy ask Pam out for dinner after buying one of Pam’s more expensive paintings.

And then Jo told her all about Pam and Roy’s date this morning. How he took her to Terra Preta Prime and they both ordered steaks and a whole bottle of wine with a name she can’t even pronounce let alone buy for herself. And how he pulled Pam’s chair out for her and made a toast to our first date, and hopefully many more. Kelly thought her eyes were going to get stuck with how hard she rolled them. And even though Jo didn’t tell her this, she knows Pam didn’t spend a penny on their date last night. No, she’s sure Roy is the type of man to insist on paying, unlike Xander who Kelly went out with this weekend who conveniently forgot his wallet but didn’t realize until they were already multiple drinks in.

And then Roy called into the shop this morning, asking if Pam was in yet. Jo was in the back room talking to a client, so Kelly took her chance to possibly win Roy over. After all, him and Pam had only gone on one date, it wasn’t too late for him to change his mind. She didn’t get very far, though, as he politely excused himself after hearing that Pam hadn’t arrived yet. She pouted as she hung up the phone and wondered why Pam got so lucky. Kelly couldn’t figure it out, seeing as Pam, although pretty in her own way, was, well… plain. Usually dressed in jeans, a cardigan, and plain white keds, Kelly could tell that Pam never put much effort into her attire. And they were both right there when Roy walked in last week. Both were on break and both greeted him at the same time, yet he asked Pam to help him instead, which led to a date. Kelly frowned just thinking about it.

Singer walked through the door then, pulling Kelly out of her thoughts. Pam followed by a minute later, saying hello to Jo and Kelly as she hung up her purse and made sure Singer was situated on his bed near the front door.

“Roy called,” Kelly said, not even trying to hide her annoyance. She didn’t even bother to look up at Pam, instead focusing on filing down her nails.

“He did? What did he want?”

Kelly rolls her eyes, “I didn’t bother asking,” she snapped, “I’m not your secretary.”

Pam raises her eyebrows to Jo and Jo shakes her head in return, as if to say don’t worry about her. Pam smiles, this is why Jo has become one of Pam’s closest friends, possibly even beating out Jim if she was honest with herself. Yeah, Jo had practically saved her life all those years ago by giving her a home and a job, but she’s known her long enough now that she knows they would have been good friends even without that.

Jo tosses a treat over to Singer before turning back to Pam. “So, how did your date go?”

“To be honest, I was a little worried about you the whole time. I thought you were going to strain your neck with how far you were craning it in order to listen in.”

Jo waves her hand, “A little Tylenol and I was fine. Seriously, though. How did it go?”

Pam leans up against the front desk where Jo is sitting, “It went well, considering I just met the guy.”

“Huh. From where I was sitting, it seemed like he knew you from somewhere.”

“What makes you think that?”

Jo shrugs, “Just his expression, I guess. Or the way he was staring at you all night. The couple next to me said they thought his eyes were attached to you with an invisible string.”

Pam laughed, “Was it really that obvious?”

“Honey, he looked like he was staring at a buffet after being starved for weeks.”

“I guess I must have dazzled him.”

“I suppose so.”

Pam’s eyebrows furrowed a bit, “What? You didn’t like him?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t know the guy. I haven’t met him yet, remember? I was out the day he came into the shop and you didn’t exactly introduce us yesterday, you were too busy staring back.” Jo winked, “Besides, don’t go spreading this around town, but I’m an old romantic at heart. As long as the man listens and treats you well, looks aren’t all the important.”

“You don’t think he’d good looking?”

“You know me, doll. I prefer the guys who go after our girl Kelly over there. I like the tattoos and leather jackets.”

Pam laughs and jokingly rolls her eyes. “Don’t let her hear you, she may get offended.”

“Kelly wouldn’t know who I was talking about unless I drew her a picture.” The door swings open and a woman with two kids walks in, Pam’s first appointment of the day. Pam greets her and tells her she will be right with her before turning to start gathering the supplies she needs. As Pam does so, Jo asks, “So, are you going to go out with him again?”

“If he asks, probably.”

“Do you want him to ask?”

Pam smiles, “Yeah, I think I do,” she admits.

“What are you going to tell Toby? You just know he’s going to be heartbroken the next time he calls.”

Pam swings her art bag over her shoulder, “Maybe I’ll just tell him you’re interested.”

“I’m afraid I may be too crazy for that one.” Jo pauses and then nods towards the front window, in the direction of the garage. “How did Jim take it? I saw you two talking out there.”

Pam glances out the window before looking back at Jo and shrugging, “He took it okay.”

“He’s a good guy, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jo nods, not pushing the topic any further. She knows it won’t do any good, she’s tried multiple times in the past with Pam always saying, he’s my best friend, I don’t want to lose him, at the end before changing the topic herself. Jo watches as Pam walks into the back room with her client and then looks out the window towards the garage. No matter what Pam says, Jo thought that her and Jim would make a good couple. And she’s sure that Mark wouldn’t mind one bit. She should know, after all, she is his aunt.

Singer’s head rose from his bed as Roy walked into the studio. He growled, though the sound was muted, as if he knew he would get scolded again if Pam were to hear him. Kelly looks up from her painting and smiles when she sees who it is. “Hi, Roy. Here for another painting? I’m working on one right now that I think you might really like.”

“No, thanks, um, Carrie?”

“Kelly.”

“Right, sorry. No, thanks, Kelly. Uh, is Pam in?”

Kelly’s smile disappears and she snaps the gum she’s chewing before going back to her painting as she says, “Yeah, she’s here. She’s in the back.”

Jo walks in from the back room just then, wiping her hands off on an old rag. She smiles when she sees Roy standing near the door. “Hi, Roy, right? How are you?”

Roy brought his hands together in front of him. He recognized Jo from dinner last night, noticed how Pam kept glancing over at her, and although she seemed friendly enough, he knew he was being evaluated. Small towns were the same everywhere he’s been. He smiles politely before responding, “Fine, ma’am, how are you today?”

“Good. Pam will be out in a minute, she’s in the middle of a lesson but I’ll tell her you’re here.”

Roy nods. “Thank you.”

As Jo grabs her water then goes back into the back room, Roy can feel Kelly looking at him. He keeps his eyes casted down, though. Kelly is pretty, but he can tell she puts a lot of effort into her appearance, more of a forced beauty. He prefers women with a more wholesome look, like what Pam has.

“Roy?”

Singer stood up and went to stand by Pam, but she held a hand up and he sat back down, though he gave a final hmph and didn’t let up on his stare.

He looks up and smiles at her, “Hi, Pam.” He gestures towards Singer, “I guess he’s starting to get used to me, huh?”

Pam returns his smiles and crosses her arms over her chest, “Oh, don’t worry about him. We had a talk, I think he’ll be fine.”

“A talk?”

“Yeah, he just gets jealous.”

Roy raises an eyebrow and glances over at Singer, “Jealous?”

Pam shrugs, “You’d have to live with him to understand.”

He chuckles, “Okay.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to visit, see how you were doing.”

“I’m okay, just kind of busy. Mondays are usually swamped, I’m on my third lesson this morning. Why aren’t you at work?”

“I am, kind of. Freelance gives me a bit of downtime, and I was nearby already, so I decided to stop by.”

“Just to see me?”

“I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Pam smiles before offering, “I had a good time yesterday.”

“Me too.” He glances over at Jo and Kelly and although they both seemed to be occupied with other tasks, he knew they were trying to listen in. “Hey, could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

“I would, but I’m in the middle of a lesson.”

“Please? It will be quick, I promise. I know you’re working.”

She glances towards the back room before looking back up at him. “Okay, just give me one second while I make sure they’re okay and I’ll meet you out there.”

“Of course.”

Roy waves at Jo and Kelly before turning and walking out of the studio, leaning up against the front wall. A minute later, Pam appears, saying, “Okay, I’ve got less than two minutes before the kids realize I’m not in there again. What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all.”

She laughs a little, “But why?”

“Gee,” he says, playing innocent, “I wonder.”

Pam rolls her eyes, but keeps her smile. “I found your card this morning. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Kelly said you called this morning, were you checking to see if I found it?”

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice. Good memories and all, you know?”

“Already?”

“I was charmed.”

Pam nods, thinking, flattery is such a good way to start the day.

Roy starts to tug at his sleeve, pulling it down over his watch. “Um, actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Ah, I see how it is. You butter me all up before you spill the bad news.”

He laughs, “No, no.. just about our date. I was hoping Saturday would work for you?”

Pam frowns a little, remembering that Saturday was game night with Danny, Karen, and Jim. “I’d love to, really, but I’m supposed to meet up with some friends on Saturday. What about Friday? Or I’m usually free during the week in the evening.”

“I can’t. I got called in to go to Portland tonight and won’t be back until Saturday afternoon, and there’s a chance I’ll be called to go back next week as well. That part isn’t guaranteed but chances are I’ll have to go.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Are you sure you can’t go?”

She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, I can’t. They’re really good friends and I missed our last night out together, I can’t blow them off again.”

For a moment, an unreadable expression crosses Roy’s face, but just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. “Okay.”

“I’m really sorry.”

She frowns again when he looks past her for a second but then he looks back over at her and says, “Hey, it’s not a big deal. These things happen. Can I call you in a couple of weeks though? Maybe we can arrange something when I get back?”

A couple of weeks? Pam thinks, unsure if she wants to put her romantic life on hold for a guy she’s only gone out with once, even if she does like him. “Well.. what if you came with me? It’s just dinner, probably burgers or pizza, and some games. My friends are great, too, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.”

“No, they’re your friends. I’m not all that great at meeting new people, anyway. I’m pretty shy, I guess. But I don’t want to make you change your plans. Hang out with your friends, and if you’re still interested, I’d love to take you out once I get back.” He smiles and nods towards the studio, “Listen, I said it would be quick and I don’t want to hold you up any longer. I’ve got to get back to work too.” He gestures towards her outfit and smiles again, “You look great today, by the way.”

He turned to leave and before Pam even knew what she was doing, she called out, “Wait, Roy.”

He looked back over at her, “Yeah?”

They’d understand, wouldn’t they? Pam thought, and I can always make it up to them. It’s just one night. “If you’ll be gone for a while, I’m sure I can switch some things around, maybe hang out with them on Sunday. I’ll call Karen and explain, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to bail on your friends because of me.”

“No, really, it’s okay. We see each other all the time, they won’t miss me.”

“Are you sure?”

Pam nods, “Absolutely.”

Roy just looks at her for a second, a small smile playing on his lips, and before she realizes it, he kisses her. Not a hard kiss, and for no longer than a couple of seconds, but a kiss, nonetheless.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he pulled away from her.

Pam just stands there, trying to think of something to say, but before she can, Roy is already turning around and walking away.

***

“Did he just kiss her??” Jim asked, his jaw all but to the floor.

Jim had just finished working on The Levinsons’ car when he looked up and saw Roy walking towards the studio. He glanced at the clock and seeing it was nearing lunchtime, anyway, he hung out by the garage door to eat his sandwich. He watched Roy walk into the studio, walk back out a moment later, followed by Pam shortly after. Danny had just walked up beside him when Roy leaned down to kiss Pam.

“Looks like it.”

“They don’t even know each other.”

“Well, they do now.”

“Thanks, Danny,” Jim scoffs, “that really helps me out here.”

Danny shrugs, “Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Right now, yes, I would.”

“Okay, well… that dude sure is ugly.”

Jim groans and put his face into his hands, wondering how much more he’s going to be tortured today.

***

Pam walked back into the studio, and though Jo raised her eyebrows at Pam, Pam just smiled and went back into the back room. She’s glad to see the kids are still working on their projects, seemingly unaware that she had ever left the room. The youngest, Charlotte, looks up when the door closes, though, and immediately starts telling Pam all about her painting.

“I decided to use green for the sky instead of blue because green is my favorite color. My brother’s favorite color is red, but I don’t like red because that’s his favorite color...”

Pam nods along, trying to look interested, and although she knows Charlotte is still talking, she couldn’t concentrate on anything she was saying. Instead, she could only think about what had just happened outside. He kissed me, she thinks, wondering why it’s such a big deal. It was barely a kiss, anyway, more like a peck on the lips, but she can’t get it out of her mind. She also can’t really tell how she feels about it. Maybe it’s just because he took her by surprise. She certainly didn’t expect that she would have been kissed today when she showed up to work. But something about it threw her off.

Charlotte goes back to painting and Pam checks in on her brother before going to the sink and washing her hands. Jo walks up to her as she’s drying them off and asks in a hushed tone, “Did I see what I think I saw? Did you just kiss him?”

“Actually, he kissed me.”

Jo frowns a little, “You don’t look too happy about it.”

Pam shrugs, looking over at the table to watch the kids paint as she thinks of a response. “I guess happy isn’t the right word for it, no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It was just…”

“Unexpected?”

Pam thought about it. While she really didn’t expect him to show up and kiss her, she does like the guy. She found him attractive and kind. She agreed to go out with him again this weekend. If he had kissed her then, she knows she wouldn’t be questioning it. In fact, she may have been insulted if he didn’t kiss her after their date this weekend. So… why does it feel like he just crossed a barrier without asking her permission first?

Pam shrugs again, tossing the rag into the sink behind her. “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”

Jo studied Pam for a moment before leaning up against the sink next to her. “Well, if it’s any help, I’d say he had just as good of a time last night as you did. He’s obviously very interested in you.”

Pam nods slowly, biting her bottom lip. After a minute she says, “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“He left a card on my mailbox, I found it this morning as I was leaving for work.”

Jo raises her eyebrows and Pam looks over at her when she doesn’t respond. “You think it’s too much?”

“Not necessarily.”

“But it might be?”

Jo smiles reassuringly at Pam, “I don’t know. He might just be the type of guy who knows what he wants, and when he finds it, he goes for it with gusto. I’ve met a few men like that, married two of them.” Jo laughs which makes Pam smile. “And, hey, you are quite the catch. So, I don’t blame him.”

Pam smiles a little bigger, “Thanks, Jo.”

Jo grabs her hand and squeezes it gently before turning to walk out of the room. She reaches the door and turns back around. “Or, then again… maybe he’s just bonkers.”

Pam laughs, “Thanks a lot.”

Jo grins, “No problem. Like I tell everyone, welcome back to the wonderful world of dating. It’s never boring, is it?”

***

Roy closed the door to his car and couldn’t help the laugh that had escaped him. It had been a while since he had last laughed out loud, but he couldn’t help it. He gets jealous, Pam had said about her dog, as if she really thought he was human. Cute.

He loved going out with her last night. Her smile was so bright, and he couldn’t get enough of her laugh. He loved her resilience the most, though. She had told him about some of her past, and she had a tough deal thrown her way, one that would mark most with bitterness or resentment. But not Pam. No, she saw each day as a new opportunity to grow, bigger and stronger. He loved that about her.

She was lovely, how thoughtful and caring she was. He loved watching her get a childlike excitement as she described her job and how she struggled when deciding whether or not to skip out on her friends this weekend. He felt like he could watch her for hours and never grow tired of it.

I had a good time yesterday, she said. He was sure she had, nothing seemed to hint towards the opposite, but he had to visit her today to make sure. The mind does that to you, especially after something like a first date. He couldn’t help all the questions and concerns running through his mind after he had gotten home. Did he do this right? Should he have said that? Did he talk too much? Too little? He replayed the date in his head repeatedly, remembering Pam’s expressions and trying to figure out if she had ever hinted that he did anything wrong. He didn’t think so, but the thought wouldn’t leave his mind, not letting him sleep. It was almost four a.m. when he got up and dropped the note off at her house, hoping that would fill in any cracks he may have made during their date.

But after seeing her this morning, he shouldn’t have worried. They both had a great time, she said so herself. He was ridiculous to have even considered that there was any other outcome.

His cell phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. Philbin from work, the foreman on his current project, no doubt calling with more bad news. Someone quit, we’re behind schedule, costs are higher than predicted. It’s always bad news when Darryl calls. He lets it ring, summoning Pam’s image once again as it goes to voicemail. He smiles a little, thinking it must have been fate that made them meet. There were a thousand other things he could have done that morning. He knew he wasn’t going back home for at least a few more weeks, there was no need to go souvenir shopping just yet, but something drew him into that studio, and he was lucky that Pam was right there, as if she was waiting for him.

His cell phone rang again and after confirming it was Philbin again, he ignores it once more.

He wishes he hadn’t kissed her today. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, but he’ll admit it was a bit too much, too soon. He was just so elated that she had broke off her plans with close friends in order to see him, that it just… happened. He couldn’t help himself.

But that’s no excuse, he shouldn’t have done it. When he takes her out on Saturday, he will give her some space. Let her come to her own conclusions about him, at her pace. He likes her, a lot, and so he’ll hold back. He doesn’t want to ruin this.

His phone rings again and without even looking at it, he sends it straight to voicemail then turns off the phone altogether. He leans back in his chair and plays out his meeting with Pam today again in his mind.

Very cute.

***

Pam finds herself sitting across from Roy on Saturday evening. She looks over at him and sees a small smile playing over his lips.

“What are you smiling at?”

He smiles a little bigger and shakes his head, looking down at his plate. “Oh, nothing. I was just daydreaming for a second there.”

“Am I that boring?”

He looks up at her, “No, not at all. I’m just really glad you were able to come out with me tonight.” He takes a bite of his pasta and then dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Have I told you that you look beautiful this evening?”

“Only about a dozen times.”

“Did you want me to stop?”

She smiles and takes a sip of her wine. As she sets it back down, she says, “No. Call me crazy, but I kind of like life on a pedestal.”

Roy nods, “Well, I’ll try to keep you up there.”

She glances around the restaurant. While most guys tried to impress her with a fancy dinner on the first date, almost all of them went a little cheaper by the second. Roy seemed to do the opposite, bringing her to an even nicer restaurant than he did last weekend. Sambuca Grille, a fancy Italian restaurant near downtown, the type of restaurant where the waiters dressed in black and white and every table had roses and candles. A bottle of Chardonnay sat in a bucket of ice in the center, their waitress coming back every few minutes to check if anyone needed their glass topped off. Roy had shown up in a linen jacket and although she was wearing one of her nicer dresses, she felt like she severely paled in comparison to the other women in the room. She certainly wasn’t used to this, but she had the feeling that Roy wouldn’t think that take-out Chinese and a blockbuster movie counted as a date. She wondered if she could get used to this kind of lifestyle.

He interrupts her thoughts, clearing his throat and then saying, “So, tell me about your week. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

“You mean at work?”

“Work, home, life, whatever. I want to know it all.”

“I should probably be asking you that question.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” she says, pausing to take a sip of her wine, “I work in a small art studio in a small, boring town. Nothing exciting happens, not in my life, anyway. Besides,” she gestures towards him, “I’ve realized I don’t know that much about you.”

“Sure, you do.”

“Not really. I’m not even sure what you do exactly.”

“I told you I’m a consultant, didn’t I?”

“You did. But you didn’t go into very much detail.”

He shrugs, “That’s because my job is boring.”

She raises an eyebrow, looking skeptical and he chuckles, “Okay… what I do… well. Just look at me as the guy who works behind the scenes to make sure the bridge doesn’t collapse.”

“See? That’s not boring.”

“That’s because I just made it sound more fun that it actually is. That’s just the fancy way of saying that I work with numbers all day. Most people would probably view me as a nerd.”

She runs her eyes over him, thinking, I doubt that. “Is that what the meeting was about?”

“What meeting?”

“The one in Portland.”

“Oh, no. I have a big project coming up in Austin. Well, my company is trying to bid on that project at the moment. It’ll be huge if we get it, but until then, it’s just a bunch of boring meetings in different cities, trying to get all the paperwork and numbers sorted out. Usually I have a team of people I can send out for these meetings, but I’m a little short staffed right now.”

Pam observes him in the low light of the restaurant. The light of the candle brings out the blue of his eyes. His face, rugged and boyish at the same time, reminded her of some of the men she would see in TV commercials growing up, she had always wondered what it would be like to marry one of those men.

She looks down and takes a bite of her salad, chewing and swallowing before asking, “Do you have any hobbies? Anything you do in your spare time?”

He pushes the rigatoni around on his plate with his fork as he contemplates an answer. “Not really. Outside of work and trying to stay in shape, I don’t have much time for anything else.” He looks back up at her. “I used to do photography, though. Was pretty good at it, too. Took a few college courses, almost made it my career. But it’s difficult to make a living from it, and I didn’t want to photograph weddings or cranky kids who were dragged in by their parents, so I didn’t.”

“You became an engineer instead.”

He nodded and they both took the lull in the conversation to take a sip of wine and a few bites of dinner. After another moment, Pam asks, “So, did you grow up in Portland?”

“No, I just moved there a couple of years ago. Grew up right outside of Boston, lived there all my life until I moved to Portland. Just needed a change of scenery.”

“What did your parents do?”

“Dad worked at a chemical plant. Mom was just mom until Dad died. Took care of me, cooked meals, kept the house clean, that kind of stuff. Once Dad died, though, she became a maid. Didn’t pay much, but she kept food on the table and a roof over our heads. She worked hard, sometimes I can’t believe she was able to keep up with it all.”

Pam smiles, “She sounds incredible.”

“She was.”

“Was?”

“Is.” He looks down, starts pushing his pasta around again. “She had a stroke a couple of years ago. She doesn’t know who anyone is or where she is, and it’s only gotten worse. I had to send her to a place in Salt Lake City that specializes in her condition.”

Pam winces, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t know. But, honestly, I don’t really talk about it. Kind of brings the mood down, especially when people find out my dad died too. Makes them feel sorry for me, not having any family around. But,” he smiles a little at her, “I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”

No, she thought, I know that all too well.

“Is that why you moved to Portland?”

“That was part of it. Um, I guess now’s a good time to tell you I was married. To a woman named Penny. I left because of her, too.”

Pam was surprised, though mostly just because he had never mentioned it before, even after she had told him about Mark. But she didn’t say anything, instead just nodded a little. She gave him a moment, could feel him debating whether or not he should continue. After a minute, he did, his voice flat.

“I don’t know what went wrong. I spent so long trying to figure it out. Sometimes I still do. I could talk about it all night, trying to fit the pieces together, see which ones belonged and which ones fell out of place, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. It just… didn’t work out.”

“How long were you married?”

“Four years.” He takes a long sip of his wine before looking back over at her. “Do you really want to hear about this?”

“Not if you don’t want to tell me.”

He laughs lightly, she can tell he’s relieved she had said that. “Thank you.”

“So, do you like Portland?”

“I do. I’m not up there much, this job has me all over the east coast, but it’s nice not being in hotels every night when I am able to go home for a bit. That’s what I like about this project. I’ll be in Scranton for a while, so I was able to find a place to rent. Plus,” he smiles, “I got the chance to meet you.”

As he was talking, Pam was struck with how much they had in common. Both being only children raised by single mothers, eventually having to leave and start fresh somewhere new. Both had been married before, and although their marriages ended differently, by the way he talked, she could feel that he was the one left behind, and he felt the loss of it afterwards. Pam loved Scranton, has come to call it home, but in all of her time here, she has never met anyone else who seems to understand just how lonely it can get. She has her friends, but when the holidays roll around and Jim, Danny, and Karen leave to go visit their parents and Jo flies to Florida to visit her sister, she’s left alone. But Roy seemed to get it, she liked that about him.

The evening wore on, the sky turning bright shades of orange and pink before settling into deeper shades of purple and black. Neither Pam nor Roy rushed through dinner, keeping the conversation light, collectively deciding that they had discussed enough of the deep stuff for one night. They ordered a slice of dark chocolate cake to share, eating from opposite ends until there was only a sliver left that neither would claim.

He held the door open for her as they left the restaurant. Fall was quickly approaching, but they were thankful that they still had at least a few more weekends of warm evenings before sandals were replaced with boots and light cardigans were replaced with heavy winter coats. They walked side by side down the sidewalk, having parked down the road so they could enjoy the nice weather. She glances up at him for a moment and smiles when she sees he was already looking at her.

I like him, she thinks, I’m not crazy about him yet. I’ll be ready to say good-bye later when he has to leave Scranton. But these dates have been nice, and I like him. That’s enough for now.

They get to a crosswalk, she presses the button and looks up at him as they wait for their cue to cross. “Do you like dancing?”

“Why? Do you want to go?”

“If you’re up for it.”

He smiles a little, she can see just a hint of a blush cross his cheeks, “I don’t know. I’m not very good.”

“Me neither. But I know a great place, it’ll be fun.”

“We could go find a place to get drinks or something?”

“We’ve been sitting for the past few hours. I’m ready to move some, aren’t you? Plus, we can get some drinks there, it’s a bar too.”

“Only if you promise not to wince when I step on your feet.”

She grins, “I promise.”

He returns her smile and shakes his head a little just as their cue to cross appears. He observes her, letting her stay one step ahead as they cross the road and head towards the car.

She’s a cautious one, he noticed. Kiss her once, and she’s questioning it all. But let her lead, and the caution seems to fade away. He opens the car door for her, watches her as she settles into her seat beside him. He knows she’s trying to figure him out. Trying to match the story he’s telling to the man sitting across from her during dinner. But there was no mistaking the look of sympathy written on her face when she realized how similar they really are.

***

Poor Richard’s was the bar everyone in Scranton frequented, even if the beer was usually flat and the air smelled like cigarette smoke, even though smoking inside had been prohibited for the past fifteen years. But there was a decent sized dance floor which was seldom empty, especially when bands were playing, which was almost every night. Locals said the other bars in town didn’t have the same character. You couldn’t find tables with the initials of practically every patron that has ever walked into Poor Richard’s scratched into the surface just anywhere.

Tonight’s band was Scrantonicity, a group that only played covers of songs by Police, but the owner loved them, so they were on stage more than not. The crowd seemed to like them, too, though Jim wasn’t quite sure how many more times he could hear their version of Roxanne without going insane.

There had been so many times when Jim thought that if they would just ask him to join them, maybe he could convince them to play covers by other artists. Maybe even write an original or two with them. He thought Kevin, the drummer and one of the lead singers, was going to ask him to join a couple of weeks ago, but that was a false alarm. Kevin had just wanted Jim’s cousin’s number. That had been depressing.

But, that seemed to be all Jim’s life was nowadays. This whole evening had been depressing. Actually, this whole week had been depressing. Ever since Pam stopped by after work on Monday to grab her keys from the garage and casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all, mentioned that she would be going out with Roy on Saturday instead of hanging out with them, he’d been in a funk. Mumbling to himself as he works, even complaining a few too many times to customers, to the point where they were asking Danny if he was okay. The worst of it, though, was after that, he couldn’t face her again. He would watch as she walked past the garage each day, Singer poking his head in to get a few extra pets before realizing Jim isn’t there and quickly catching up with Pam. He’d come out of hiding from the office or the bathroom, Danny rolling his eyes at him as Jim checks to make sure she isn’t nearby.

He’s just not ready to tell her the truth yet, and he knows if she sees him, she’s going to ask him what’s wrong. She always knows when something is bothering him, even if he tries to pretend everything is okay. But watching her walk by everyday just reminds him that he has no idea how to deal with this situation.

He liked Danny and Karen. Enjoyed the time he spent with them. But when it’s just the three of them, there’s no denying that he’s the third wheel of their little group. They sit on one side of the table, holding hands and occasionally sharing a drink, he has his own beer, slowly nursing it on his side of the booth. They go off and dance with each other as he stays back and watches, hoping no one thinks he’s some creep, here by himself, just watching the dance floor.

It’s almost worse when Karen asks him to dance. He can’t say no, she won’t take that as an answer even if he tried. So, he follows her out to the dance floor, head hung low, praying that no one realizes that he’s dancing with his sister. Sister-in-law. Whatever. That didn’t matter. It still felt like your mom asked you to prom because you couldn’t find a date. Embarrassing and a little pathetic.

Pam was supposed to be here. He was supposed to dance with her, have drinks with her, joke around with her. She was supposed to be their fourth wheel. And she would have been, if it wasn’t for Roy.

He scoffs. Roy.

He hated that guy.

He didn’t know him. Didn’t want to know him. It didn’t matter if Pam told Jim every detail about him. He would still hate him. Just thinking of his name made him scowl, and he’d been scowling a lot, all evening long.

Danny comes back from the dance floor, sitting down across from Jim in the booth. Jim watches as he takes a sip from Karen’s beer, having already ordered a replacement for her, ready to be opened once she returned from the bathroom. Danny gestures the bottle towards Jim. “Might want to switch up what you’re drinking there, Jimmy. Doesn’t seem like it’s sitting well with you.”

“I’m drinking the same thing you are.”

“True,” he smirks, “but you have to realize that some men can handle their beer better than others.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“My, aren’t we in a mood this evening.”

Jim rolls his eyes, “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

“Considering the way you’ve been acting, you deserve it. C’mon. We had a great dinner, I’ve graced you with my sparkling wit all evening long, Karen has made sure you aren’t sitting here alone all night like a loser whose date just stood him up.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m just saying, you have to lighten up about this. I know it sucks, but moping isn’t going to change anything. You’re just ruining the whole night.”

“I’m trying my best, okay?”

Danny holds his hands up in fake surrender. “My bad. I guess I’ve just been imagining all the scowls and deep sighs.”

Jim rolls his eyes once more before downing the rest of his beer and signaling the bartender for another.

Danny leans across the table in order to nudge Jim on the arm, “C’mon, man, you know I’m just trying to have a little bit of fun.”

“Yeah, at my expense.”

He gestures to the rest of the booth, “You’re the only one here. Who else am I supposed to pick on?”

Jim glares at him before twisting off the cap of the beer that was just dropped off.

Danny sighs, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry, okay? But listen, just because she’s out with Roy right now doesn’t mean you’ve lost your chance forever. This should inspire you to ask her out. Show her how much better you can be than fancy, schmancy Roy.”

“I was already planning on that.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. After we talked on Monday, I knew I had to ask her out. I was going to do exactly what you said. Tonight was supposed to be the night.”

Danny studied him for a minute before smiling and patting his arm. “Good. I’m really proud of you.”

Jim waited for more but when he didn’t continue, he asked, “What? No jokes this time?”

“No need to make jokes.”

“Why? You don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you. I have to, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I’ll get to see you do it.”

“Huh?”

“The gods are with you, little brother.”

“What are you talking about?”

Danny took another sip of beer before nodding in the direction of the door. “Guess who just walked in?”

Roy stood next to Pam, just inside the doors of Poor Richard’s. He tried to hide the disgust on his face, though he was sure some of it was still peeking through. Pam was on her tiptoes, looking around for somewhere to sit. He glances around the bar, watched as patrons chugged beers, yelled at TVs, and danced to mediocre music. He raises his voice in order to be heard over all the noise, “I didn’t realize it would be so crowded in here. Are you sure you don’t want to find somewhere else?”

“It’s always like this, but it’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

Roy nodded, though if it were up to him, he would have left the second they walked through the door. He trusted her, though, so he leans down so she can hear him better, his breath warm against her ear, “Let’s get something to drink first. Before we find a place to sit.”

She smiles up at him and nods, “Lead the way, the bar is straight ahead.”

He steps in front of her, trying to maneuver through the crowd in order to reach the bar. As the crowd thickens around them, he reaches back for her hand and she grabs on to it with no hesitation. She grins when he doesn’t drop her hand once they’ve reached the bar, lifting his other hand to signal the bartender.

***

“So, that’s him, huh?” Karen says, taking a sip of her beer.

Karen, twenty-nine with hazel eyes that lit up when she smiled, had always felt like a sister to Jim since the moment he met her. She cared about him, he knew she did, it was just who she was. Everyone knew Karen in some way, she helped out anywhere she could. If she wasn’t working part time as a manager for her father’s business, she was volunteering at the kids’ school or the local pet shelter. She was always home by three p.m., though, propping her front door open with a brick so all the kids could have a place to congregate after school. And they did – their house was constantly busy with kids coming in and out until the streetlights turned on, thanking Karen for her fresh baked cookies and homemade pizzas.

But if the kids loved her, Danny adored her. He constantly told Jim how lucky he was to have married her, how happy he was that she was by his side, as if Jim hadn’t heard this countless times before. And even if he hated to admit it out loud, Jim knew that they were perfect for each other. They rarely argued, too busy laughing with or at each other. Their sarcasm was on another level, and once they got started, they fed off of each other, and you would just have to hope that you weren’t the target that night.

Unfortunately for Jim, he had been the target all week, seeing as he made sure Pam wasn’t around them. Tonight had been especially brutal, every drink seemed to make their teasing worse.

Danny nodded, “That’s him.”

Karen kept staring. “He’s really something, isn’t he?”

“I think the word Jo used was sexy.” He offered.

Karen point a finger towards Danny, validating his point. “Yes, sexy. He’s definitely sexy, in a handsome stranger kind of way, of course.”

Jim hung his head low and sunk further into the booth, wondering how this could possibly get any worse.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” They watched as Roy leaned down and whispered something into Pam’s ear, making her smile. “They do make a lovely couple,” he added.

“Hmm.. they look like a couple you’d see on TV or in a magazine.”

“People’s list of most glamourous couples, definitely.”

Jim groans, “Okay, you both can cut it out. I get it, he’s perfect, wonderful, amazing.”

They both look over at him, eyes lit with amusement. Karen reaches over and squeezes his arm. “Oh, Jim. We’re just saying he looks like those things. C’mon, we all know looks aren’t the most important thing.

Danny nudges Karen with his shoulder, “I guess you should know my little brother over here has been having a hard time with this whole Roy thing.”

“Aw, no, really?” Karen says, sounding as innocent as she can muster.

“Seriously, knock it off. You guys have been picking on me all night.”

Karen smiles, “That’s because you’re such an easy target when you act like this.”

“Danny and I have already been over this.”

Karen ignores his comment, “And anyway, we’re trying to get you out of this mood. It’s not attractive. If you keep this up, if you let Pam see you acting like this, you might as well say goodbye right now.”

Jim just blinks at her sudden honesty. He glances over at Pam and Roy before looking back to Karen. “So, what? Do I just act like I don’t care?”

“No, Jim. Act like you do care. Like you want what’s best for her.”

“How do I do that?”

“Be her friend.”

“I am her friend.”

“Not right now, you’re not. If you were, you’d be happy for her.”

“Why am I supposed to be happy that she’s with him?”

Karen rolls her eyes. “Because,” she states, as if the answer should be obvious, “it means she’s looking for the right guy. And I think we all know who that is. In the end, I highly doubt it’s going to be the guy over there.” She smiles reassuringly to him and pats his hand that’s resting on the table. “Do you really think we would be giving you such a hard time if we didn’t believe you two would eventually work out?”

As much as she teased him, Jim knew in that moment why Danny had fallen in love with Karen. Jim glances back over at the bar, can see Pam with a drink in her hand, looking out over the crowd for a place to sit. He knew Karen was right, but as Pam’s eyes catches his and she smiles and waves, he knew he was going to have a hell of a time trying to be happy for her as long as Roy was by her side.

***

Pam’s eyes light up when she sees Jim, Danny, and Karen sitting in a booth across the room. She waves at them and then turns to Roy, pulling on his hand in their direction. “Follow me, I think I see somewhere we can sit.”

She pulls him through the crowd, trying not to get bumped and spill their drinks all over themselves, though that is proving to be difficult as fellow patrons dance all around them. She steps back off of the dance floor, only having lost a few drops of her drink, and makes it over to the table with her friends.

“Hey, I thought you guys were doing game night.” Pam says as Karen stands and gives her a hug.

Karen steps back, leaning against the table and points her thumb back at Danny, “We did, but Mr. Sore Loser over here got mad that I beat him at Uno three times in a row, and wanted to get out of the house.”

“You only won because you and Jim cheated.”

Karen shrugs, then holds her hand out towards Roy. “Hey, I’m Karen, that’s my husband, Danny, and his brother, Jim. You must be Roy.”

Roy hesitates for a moment before shaking her hand with a simple, “Hello.”

Pam puts one hand on Roy’s arm and gestures towards the others with her free hand, “These are the friends I told you about, who I was going to have dinner with.” She smiles at Jim, sorry again that I ditched you guys.

She can see the smallest flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he smiles and it disappears, then he shrugs, Hey, it’s no big deal.

Their silent conversations was one of Pam’s favorite parts of being Jim’s best friend. Whether it’s a raise of an eyebrow, a small smile, or a knowing look, they somehow could communicate with no words actually being spoken aloud. It has come in handy more times than she can count.

Danny scoots over as Karen sits back down. “Why don’t you guys join us? There’s plenty of room.”

Roy shakes his head, “Oh, no, that’s okay. We don’t want to bother you.”

Karen takes a sip of her beer before gesturing towards the booth where Jim is sitting, “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re all friends here, c’mon. Join us.”

Pam looks up at Roy and smiles reassuringly to him when he seems indifferent to the situation. She scoots in next to Jim, Roy following in behind her.

“So, Roy,” Danny reaches over and steals Karen’s beer and takes a sip as she swats his arm, “tell us about yourself.”

***

Jim couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable if he tried, physically and emotionally. Roy was a pretty big dude. It’s obvious he works out regularly, but that also means that in order for him, Pam and Roy to fit in one booth, Jim might as well be merged in with the wall. So, not only was he squished between greasy drywall and the love of his life, but he was also having to listen to the love of his life’s date give such stilted answers that the whole table was growing awkward. Pam would try to lighten the mood, provide answers for him when she could or gently nudge his arm, chiding him to volunteer more information, but he stuck to his guns, only answering what was asked and saying nothing more.

And Jim tries to look interested, really. He’s taking Karen’s advice to heart and is nodding along to Roy’s (short, stagnant) answers, smiling when appropriate, even asking a couple of questions himself. Jim couldn’t believe that this was who he was up against. He knows Pam, better than anyone in this bar, and yet he can’t figure out what made her agree to go out with him. Sure, he’s a good-looking guy, and seems intelligent, and is well traveled, but he is acting to strange. Maybe Roy’s just socially awkward. Maybe he’s caught off guard. But Jim can’t help the nagging feeling in his chest that is telling him there’s something more than meets the eye.

Or maybe it’s just because Jim can tell that Roy truly likes Pam. Every time Pam talks, Roycan’t look away from her, acting like a husband waking up on the first morning of their honeymoon. It makes Jim sick. But he smiles and nods, anyways, because he’s her friend.

Eventually, Pam and Karen start catching up with each other and all the other gossip that floats around Scranton, as the boys listen on and sip their drinks. Roy swallows the rest of his beer, then asks Pam if she wants anything else from the bar, standing up when she says she’s fine.

Danny lifts up his empty bottle, “Would you mind grabbing a couple more of these while you’re up there?”

Roy nods and turns to go to the bar when Jim says, “I’ll join you, help you carry them back.”

Pam lets him out, giving him a thankful smile as he stands up and follows Roy to the bar. He thought volunteering to help would give him a chance to talk to Roy alone, get a true feeling of him, but Roy remains silent, barely glancing over at Jim as they reach the bar and signals for the bartender. Jim tries to think of a topic to bring up, something casual or maybe try to find something they have in common, but he’s pretty sure the only thing they have in common is the girl sitting across the room.

“Pam’s a great girl.”

Roy looks at him for a moment, Jim can feel himself being scrutinized as Roy quickly looks him over, then turns away again. “Yes, she is,” he states simply.

Jim looks over at Pam as Roy gives the bartender their order. She looks up and smiles before returning to her conversation with Karen. Jim shakes his head and grabs half the beers, following Roy back to the table. Pam gets out to let Jim scoot in, and Roy grabs her elbow before she can sit back down, asking her if she wants to dance. He waits until they’re lost in the crowd of people to slouch back down in his seat, taking a long swig of beer.

Karen laughs at Jim’s sudden change of mood, “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“I don’t like him.”

Danny rolls his eyes, “What a surprise.”

“It’s not because he’s dating Pam.” Jim looks over to the crowd, he can’t see the two within the sea of people, but he looks anyway, if only to not have to look at Danny and Karen for a moment. “I just don’t think I trust him.”

“Why not? He seems nice. Quiet, but polite.” Jim rolls his eyes but stays quiet, so Danny speaks up again, leaning back in the seat. “Well, get comfy, little bro.”

Jim looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “Why?”

“Well, you missed your opportunity. So, it looks like we’re gonna be here for a while.”

Jim scoffs and takes a sip of his beer, “What opportunity?”

“You said tonight was going to be the night you ask Pam out.”

“Shut up, Danny.” Jim glares as Danny and Karen laugh.

***

Jim didn’t get it. The longer he sat and thought about what had happened tonight, the more confused he gets. He’s glad that Danny and Karen went off to catch up with another couple they know, so he can finally have a moment of peace to figure out what exactly it is about Roy Anderson that he doesn’t like. Besides the fact that he’s dating Pam, of course.

But there was more. Most people would actually try to talk to their date’s friends if they met them. Sure, it might be awkward or uncomfortable at first, but that feeling never stopped with Roy. Short answers, one or two words max if he could get away with that. No matter what Danny or Karen said, Roy did not strike Jim as a very nice guy. Nice to Pam, sure. But Jim knew that Roy didn’t like him, Danny, or Karen. Him especially. He figured Roy didn’t like them when he originally declined their offer to sit with them, the feeling grew as Karen and Danny asked him questions, and it solidified after their conversation at the bar, if you could even call it that. He saw the brief look on Roy’s face after he looked Jim over. It was only there for a second, but it told Jim all he needed to know. I know how you feel about her, his expression showed, but I won. So, back off.

 But no one else seemed to see what he saw. Pam obviously likes him, Karen and Danny seem to, Kelly is apparently obsessed with him, even Jo likes him well enough, according to Danny. Why didn’t they see what is so obvious to Jim? Or maybe Jim was overanalyzing it. Trying to pinpoint every flaw so he could hold onto the hope that Pam wouldn’t keep him around. Would see that Jim is better than Roy.

He turns and scans the crowd once more. People have slowly been trickling out within the past hour, so instead of the usual mass of bodies, it’s dwindled down to maybe a couple dozen lingering about. He easily spots Pam and Roy at a small table near the doors, she’s laughing at something as Roy smiles and takes a drink from his beer. Jim allows himself to watch them for a moment, he can hear Pam’s laugh even with the music blaring and the people talking all around him. Her head is turned ever so slightly so he can’t see her full face, but he knows that she is biting the tip of her tongue, as she always does when she’s trying to stop her giggles. He forces himself to look away just as she playfully shoves his arm.

Disgusting.

He can’t help but keep glancing up, though. He doesn’t look for long, doesn’t want to be caught staring, but he can’t help himself. He feels like he’s driving past a bad accident. He shouldn’t look, but he has to, it’s almost magnetic. But as the night wore on, he felt more and more like he was in that bad accident. Felt crushed, as he sat alone and watched Pam and Roy stare into each other’s eyes with goofy grins, giggling like a couple of teenagers at prom. He could feel his chance of asking her out disappear with every smile they shared. He thought he was going to be sick.

He promises to not look up again. He’ll drink his beer and wait for Danny and Karen to come back so they can go home and he can mope in peace. But then he hears Pam laugh again and he promises that this is the last time he’ll look up. He turned, seeing Pam looking through her purse. He imagines she’s trying to find gum or a mint, since she doesn’t like the lingering taste of beer. He looks over at Roy then, and freezes when he sees him staring right back. Roy’s stare is cool and casual, an outsider wouldn’t think anything of it, would probably think he’s daydreaming as his date busies herself. But Jim can see the confidence behind Roy’s stare, the warning he seems to be screaming across the room without ever moving his lips. I know you’re staring, Jim. Cut it out.

Jim wants to look away, act as if he had never looked up in the first place, but Roy is keeping his stare and Jim can’t back down. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the hope of regaining his lost opportunity, or maybe he’s just delusional, but Jim keeps eye contact, trying so hard to prove to Roy that Jim knows he’s not everything he seems to be.

It’s not until a voice from his left snaps him out of it does he break. He looks up and sees Kevin, the lead singer of the band, standing at the end of the table. He hadn’t even noticed that the band had stopped playing, too caught up with Roy and Pam, but he greets Kevin as he sits down across from him. He glances once more over to Roy and Pam, sees they are back to smiling and laughing, Pam now chewing on a fresh stick of gum.

Jim takes the last swig of his beer before focusing on Kevin. “What’s up, man?”

“I was wondering if you had a minute, I wanted to ask you about something.”

***

Kelly was a frequent patron of Poor Richard’s. Whether she arrived with a man or the intention to leave with one, she showed up most weekday nights and every weekend. Tonight was no different, having arrived with a guy named Cobra who was more tattooed than not, had beach blonde hair, and worked at a bowling alley. At least he has a job, she thought when he had asked her out. He also promised her a great time tonight, as long as she bought the drinks.

After three shots, a beer, and a couple sips of Kelly’s Seven and Seven with eight maraschino cherries, sugar on the rim, “blended if you can, pretty please,” Kelly has decided that Cobra is not as great as she thought he was. For starters, after his second shot he confessed his real name is Ryan. Which is fine, but it’s not Cobra. Cobra is a guy with leather jackets who rides motorcycles and occasionally breaks the law. Ryan is a guy who works in an office and still lives with his mom. Not her type.

He also got more crude as the night went on. She finally had to excuse herself after he hit on the waitress for the third time, only apologizing when he would look over and remember that he was there with Kelly. She makes her way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall as she waits in the long line that never seems to move. She glances over the room and spots Roy and Pam across the bar. Kelly had seen them earlier, would look for them whenever Ryan was ignoring her. She would watch him hold her hand and make her laugh while Ryan took another shot and slapped her butt. She watches Roy lean down and whisper something in Pam’s ear before heading in her direction. Kelly quickly runs a hand through her hair and straightens her skirt as Roy comes closer.

She takes a step out of line to catch him before he reaches the men’s room. “Hey, Roy!”

He looks over at her and it takes a moment, but she can see the recognition spread over his face. “Hey. Kelly, right?”

She smiles, thinking, I knew he’d remember me. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time.”

“Don’t you love it?”

He shrugs, “No, not really.”

Kelly deflates for a second before perking back up, “Oh, well, me neither. But there’s not a lot to do around here, and Saturday nights are usually overcrowded anyway, so that ruins it a little.”

He nods, then gestures back to Pam. “Yeah. Um, it was great running into you, but I should go to the bathroom so I can get back.”

“With Pam?”

“She is my date.”

She frowns a little, “Yeah, I know.”

He starts heading back to the bathrooms as Kelly steps back into line, “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, Roy.”

She leans up against the wall again, staring at the men’s room door. She feels someone tug at her waist and she looks over to see Ryan pulling her close, only to mumble something about bodily functions and stumble off towards the bathroom himself.

As soon as the door closes behind him, she leaves the line, deciding it’s time to go. She doesn’t want Ryan ruining the feeling she had when her eyes met Roy’s.

***

Roy walks Pam up to her door, she unlocks the door before turning back to him. Frogs and crickets sing around them, a cool breeze blowing through the trees surrounding her house, the moon shining bright over their heads. Even Singer seemed to have his act together tonight. Although he was eyeing them through the window, he hadn’t made a sound. Pam almost felt as if she was in a movie scene for a moment.

“I had a really good night tonight.”

“I did too.”

“Even at Poor Richard’s?”

“As long as you had fun, I had fun.”

She smiles, “Not your kind of scene, huh?”

He shrugs, “I would have preferred somewhere a little more quiet, so we could be alone.”

“We were alone.”

“Not the whole time.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, confused, “You mean when we sat with my friends? You don’t think I did that because I wasn’t having fun, do you?”

He shrugs again and leans his shoulder against the wall next to the door. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think. I know sometimes women will use their friends as a means to escape a bad date. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“Oh, Roy, no. That wasn’t it at all. Like I said before, they were the friends I was supposed to hang out with tonight. I’m glad I went out with you, but when I saw them I just wanted to say hi. I didn’t expect to see them at all, let alone sit with them for a while.”

He looks above her at the porch light for a moment before looking down at his shoes. “Listen, I’m sorry about how I acted around your friends. I know I was a little short, I just never really know what to say.”

“You were fine. I’m sure they all liked you, Karen told me she did while you were up at the bar.”

He chuckles and looks up at her, “I’m not sure they all did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jim doesn’t like me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He was watching us all night. I kept catching him staring.”

Pam hadn’t noticed Jim looking, but she’s not surprised either. “Jim and I have been best friends for years,” she reassures him, “We just look out for each other, that’s all.”

He considers this for a moment before giving a brief smile and a simple, “Okay.”

She smiles and they’re silent for a moment, just looking at each other. Roy eventually pushes himself off the wall and takes a step towards her. She anticipates the kiss, and although she wanted him to kiss her – or at least she thinks she wants him to kiss her – she can’t help but feel a little relieved when he says goodnight and turns to leave.

There’s no rush, she thinks as he backs out of the driveway and she opens her front door, greeted by Singer’s wagging tail and sloppy kisses, If it’s right, I’ll know.

***

“There he is,” Danny said, mis mouth full with powdered donut, “right on time.”

It was Tuesday morning, Jim was working on the Martinezes’ car as Henry stood at the front of the shop, waiting for Roy to make his seemingly now daily trip towards the studio. Danny can see a small box in his hand, though he has no clue what could be inside it. But that’s not why he’s watching. Danny had told Roy where he and Jim worked when they met on Saturday, so when he saw Roy heading towards the studio yesterday, he waved, but Roy didn’t even glance in his direction. Danny’s not sure if he just didn’t see him or if he ignored him, but he kept his eyes forward and walked right past, just like he did today.

Jim comes out of the garage, wiping his hands on an old rag, watching just as Roy was reaching the studio. “Doesn’t that guy ever work?”

“Hey, you used up your yearly quota of pouting last week. Besides, you should be happy that he’s visiting her while she’s working. Would you rather him visit her when she’s home?” Danny glanced over and laughed at Jim’s expression, he clearly hadn’t thought of that before.

“Whatever.” Roy opens the door and Jim sees the box in his other hand. “Is he bringing her a present?”

“Seems so.”

“What’s the occasion? They’ve gone on two dates.”

“Maybe he just wants to impress her.”

Jim scoffs, “Well then maybe I’ll swing by with a gift of my own. I can grab lunch from the diner, ask if she wants to eat with me.”

“That’s what I like to hear, little bro. Less whining, more action. Us Halperts rise to the occasion.”

Jim smiles confidently, already planning in his head exactly what he will order for Pam. “Thanks, Danny.”

“Sure thing. But, before you go all hero on me, let me give you some advice.”

“Okay.”

“Forget the gift.”

Jim looks up at him, confused. “What?”

“You’ll look desperate. You can’t show up with presents right after he shows up with presents.”

“But I am desperate.”

“I know. But you can’t let her know that. She’ll think you’re pathetic.”

Jim huffs, and watches through the window as Pam greets Roy near the door.

***

“Roy…” Pam had opened the small box, revealing a small, heart shaped locket with a nice golden chain. “It’s beautiful.”

They were standing outside now, Roy had asked to speak to her privately after she greeted him. Neither noticed Jim and Danny watching from down the street or Jo and Singer peeking through the window blinds.  

“I love it, but why? What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I just saw it, and I liked it. Well, it’s more I saw it and knew you had to have it.”

Pam looked down at the locket. She really did like it, it was beautiful, but she could also easily tell it was expensive, and consequently, had added expectations.

Roy seemed to know what she was thinking, as he held up his hands and said, “Please, I want you to have it. If you have to, think of it as a birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t until March, though.”

He shrugs, “So, I’m a little early. Or a little late, depending on how you look at it.”

She smiles a little at him and holds the box out towards him. “Roy, it’s really sweet, and I really do love it, but I shouldn’t.”

“It’s just a locket, not an engagement ring.”

She considers this for a moment, and although she is still a bit unsure, she nods then leans up and kisses him softly, murmuring “Thank you,” as she pulled back.

Roy motioned towards the locket, “Try it on.”

Pam handed Roy the box as she took the locket, unhooked the clasp, then slipped it around her neck, rehooking it. She adjusts it at the front before looking back up at Roy, “So, how does it look?”

He stares at the locket for a moment, an odd smile on his face, as if he were thinking of something else. “It looks perfect. Exactly how I remember it.”

Pam chuckles, “Remember?”

“From the jewelry story, I mean. But it looks much better on you than the mannequin.”

“Oh. Well, thank you again. You really shouldn’t have.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, this is exactly what I should have done.”

“You know you don’t have to spoil me, right? Guys usually don’t just buy me things for no reason.”

“I know, but that’s part of the reason I like to do it. Everyone needs to be spoiled once in a while. Besides, haven’t you ever seen something in a store that you just knew would be perfect for someone you care about?”

“Of course. I just hope you don’t think I expect these types of things.”

“I know you don’t, I promise.” He smiles and takes her hand, tracing small circles with his thumb. “So, are you up for doing something Friday evening?”

“I thought you were going to be out of town this week.”

“I was, but the meeting got cancelled. Well, my part of it did, anyway, so now I’m free.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Something special, but I’d like to keep as much of it a surprise if I can.” He could tell she was hesitating, so he tries to reassure her, “You’ll love it, Pam, I know you will. Trust me on this one, okay? But you will have to get off a little early on Friday, around four.”

“Why?”

“It’s going to take a little while to get where we’re going, but it will be worth it. What do you think?”

She smiles and squeezes his hand gently. “I’ll have to ask Jo and switch my schedule around a little, but I think I can make it. Should I wear something dressy or casual?”

She hoped he wouldn’t say both, indicating that she should pack a bag. She wasn’t quite ready for a weekend away yet, so she was relieved when he said, “I’ll be wearing a suit and tie if that helps.”

“I guess I’ll do some shopping this week, then.”

“I’m sure you will look beautiful in whatever you decide to wear.”

With that he kissed her hand and then her lips, saying goodbye and leaving. Her hand was immediately drawn to the locket, She looked down and studied it closely. It really was a beautiful piece of jewelry. The heart was simple, but it had an ornate floral design engraved into it. She presses on the small button on the side, and it clicks open with ease. She was right to assume that there were places where she could place small photos, but she was surprised to see he’d already had it engraved with her initials, one on each side.

***

“This is not looking good, Jimbo,” Danny admitted after Roy had walked away and Pam was studying the locket. “I don’t care what Karen said on Saturday. If you don’t do something soon, you may never get your chance.”

Jim groans, “Thanks, Sherlock.”

“Let me give you some advice.”

“You already gave me some.”

“Well, I have more. Before you do anything, you’re going to need to come up with a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

“That’s for you to figure out. But if I were you, I’d make it a good one, and I wouldn’t waste too much time coming up with it.”

***

“It’s lovely.” Jo is inspecting the necklace now, studying the design and opening it up. “This looks like it cost a small fortune. And it’s definitely not from around here. If anything, it looks homemade.”

“You think so?”

“Positive. Plus, now you have learned something important about Mr. Roy Anderson.”

“What’s that?”

Jo winks and lets go of the necklace, letting it fall back into place on Pam, “He’s got good taste.”

Pam laughs and holds the locket herself once more, opening it up to look inside. “Now I just have to find a couple of pictures to go inside.”

Jo grins, “Well, honey, you don’t have to beg. I’d be honored to give you a picture of me to carry around with you.”

Pam rolls her eyes but can’t keep her smile from matching Jo’s. “Thanks, you were the first one I thought of, you know.”

“I expected nothing less.” Jo winked, “So, are you going to put a picture of Singer in it?”

“I’d have to stand a mile away to get a photo of that bozo that will fit.”

Jo laughs, “What is up with him lately, anyway? He’s been real clingy to you.”

“You’re telling me. I trip over him every time I turn around, he’s driving me crazy.”

“How is he with Roy? At home, I mean.”

“Same as here. He stares, but at least he doesn’t growl anymore like he did at first.”

Singer whined then, and nuzzled against Pam’s leg, as if saying, We all know you love me no matter what I do.

***

Jim wasn’t a planning kind of guy. Things happened, he adapts, and for the most part, that has worked out well for him. He didn’t need to make plans when he was able to just go with the flow and be happy. The only part of his life that he wasn’t happy about was Pam. Well, Pam and not being a famous musician yet, but Pam was more important.

So, now he needs a plan. The problem is that realizing he needs a plan is much easier than actually coming up with one. But he didn’t even know where to begin.

This wasn’t some girl he met at Poor Richard’s and had to find out her name so he could ask her out. This was his best friend, who he just so happened to also be in love with. But being her friend didn’t seem to help any. He’s fixed her car, played fetch with Singer, came over whenever she asked, held her while she cried after Mark had died. But all of that resulted in was two dates with Roy. So, last week, he tried the other side of the spectrum. Avoided her at all costs, never called just to say hi, never stopped by the studio, he’s pretty sure he only saw her twice that whole week, but not a single word was exchanged between the two. But that didn’t help any, either. In fact, if his assumptions are correct after seeing them outside, ignoring her only led to a third date with Roy.

So, now what? He can’t exactly walk over there and ask her out. He’s almost positive she’s going to go out with Roy this weekend, so why would she say yes to him? And Danny said that he had to avoid looking desperate, so he can’t beg her to give him a chance, even if that’s exactly what he wants to do.

Jim put his head in his hands, groaning to himself. He runs a hand through his hair, then leans back in his chair and realizes that plan or no plan, he just had to get Pam back, even if only as a friend.

Her dating Roy sucked. But what sucked even more was not talking to Pam like he used to. They rarely ever went a day without talking at least once, usually more. If Pam decided that Roy was the one for her, then fine. He’d eventually come to terms with it. But he can’t go any longer without just talking to her.

He missed seeing her smile and laugh at his stupid jokes. Missed watching her eyes change from an emerald green to an almost turquoise as the sun set. Listening to her complain about Kelly or her car or really anything, because it meant she trusted him enough to just listen.

So, he would go over after work and talk to her. Act as if nothing had changed between them, like he truly didn’t care that she was going out with Roy because all he wanted was for her to be happy.

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he could come up with.

Jim ran to the shop door once he saw Pam leave the studio. “Hey, Pam,” he called out, “wait up!”

Pam turned to see Jim jogging towards her, Singer immediately ran up to him, making Jim stop in his tracks halfway across the street. Jim avoids Singer’s slobbery kisses, not wanting to be drenched in dog saliva, no matter how much he loves the dog. Like Pam, Jim tended to talk to Singer like he would anyone else; he knew Singer understood more than the average dog. “Hey, Bud, have you missed me?” He pets the top of his head and then points over to Pam. “C’mon, you big lug, let’s get out of the street.”

Singer trots beside Jim, nudging Jim with his head anytime he stops petting him.

Pam smiles, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he likes you more than me.”

“C’mon. We both know he definitely likes me more than you.”

Pam laughs, and even though he knows it’s only been a little over a week since she last laughed with him, it feels like a lifetime. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you very much lately.”

He shrugs, “Good, I guess. Just busy.”

“Yeah, me too. How was the other night, with Danny and Karen?”

“It was fun. Karen and I teamed up on Danny- “

“As you always should.”

Jim smiles, “Of course. We won every game until Danny got sick of us and forced us out of the house. Wish you could have made it, but…”

He shrugs, trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, although his expression and what Roy had told her made her think otherwise. He surprised her, though, by changing the topic. “But I got some good news.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know Kevin? The lead and drummer for Scrantonicity? He caught me before we left on Saturday and asked if I could fill in for their guitarist. He has to go to a wedding or something the next time they’re supposed to play.”

“That’s awesome, Jim. When is that?”

“In a couple of weeks, end of September. I mean, it’s just a one-time thing, but it should be fun.”

“I’m really happy for you. I’ll be sure to clear my schedule that weekend.”

“Thanks, I’d love if you were able to come, actually.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jim smiles, “So, what have you been up to? I know you’ve been going out with Roy, but we haven’t been able to catch up lately. Anything new and exciting happening?”

“Not really. Singer’s been driving me up a wall lately, but that’s about it.”

Jim looks down and raises an eyebrow at Singer who looks back at him and huffs a little, What did I do? Jim shakes his head and looks back up at Pam, “What has he been doing?”

“He’s been super clingy, won’t leave me alone. Growls or stares menacingly anytime Roy’s around. He’s insane.”

Jim laughs, “Maybe he needs some Prozac or something.”

“Maybe. But if he doesn’t cut it out, I’m buying an outdoor doghouse and he can live in the backyard.”

“Well, listen, I’d be glad to take him off your hands anytime. I’ve been wanting to take one last trip to the beach before the weather gets too cold, I’ll take him with me and wear him out so much he’ll sleep for two days straight.”

She smiles, “I may just take you up on that.”

“I hope so, I miss the big guy.” Jim scratches Singer’s head for a moment before speaking again, “Any good Kelly stories?”

“She told me about her date on Saturday.”

“That guy she was with at Poor Richard’s?”

“Yeah, you saw him?”

“Yeah, he seemed like a creep with a bad dye job. I thought she hit the low mark with that guy she went out with two months ago.”

“Oh, yeah, the guy with the soul patch?”

Jim laughs, “Yes, him! Man, I feel bad for her. I wish she would go after someone who actually respected her.”

“Me too. But at least she gives us entertaining stories. Scranton is only exciting because of people like her.”

“You’re right, as always. Oh, hey, Karen wants you to call her, by the way. Or, at least that’s what Danny said.”

“Do you know what about?”

“No, probably just wants to share a recipe or whatever it is you two talk about.”

“Oh, Jim. We don’t share recipes; we talk about good stuff.”

“So, you guys gossip.”

“I like to think of it as keeping in touch.”

Jim rolls his eyes, but smiles, “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Give me a call if she spills anything good, though, okay? And then maybe we can set something up with Singer. Maybe I can take him this weekend?”

Pam smiles and nods, “You got it, Halpert.”

“See you around.”

Jim pets Singer once more before Pam tells him to get in her Jeep and he turns to head back to the garage.

He’s glad he did that. He knew he missed talking to her, but he didn’t realize just how much until they were actually talking again. And sure, it wasn’t a very deep or earth-shattering conversation, but at least now he knew that she still enjoyed talking to him. It was like nothing had ever changed, how easily they joked around and laughed at each other. That had to count for something – right?

And she was bound to call tonight. Karen always had something to say that was worth repeating, and even if she didn’t, his offer to take Singer practically guaranteed she would call him. Nothing, not even Roy and his stupid locket, could ruin his mood right now. Jim was happy for the first time since Roy entered Pam’s life, and consequently his. His good mood lasted though cleaning up the garage, his trip home, even through dinner. He was still in a good mood as he crawled into bed, turning on the evening news. It lasted until he realized it was now after midnight, and the phone hadn’t rung at all.

***

The rest of the week wasn’t any better. If anything, Jim felt worse and worse as the days went on and his phone never rang. Pam also never stopped by the garage, he would watch as she went straight to her car after work, driving past the shop without so much as slowing down. He doesn’t think she’s avoiding him or anything, but he can tell that she certainly isn’t going out of her way to talk to him.

Which feels weird, if he’s honest with himself.

He’s known Pam for over 10 years now, knows her better than anyone in this town, and she, him. He knows her work schedule, when she usually likes to take her breaks, what days she stays late so her and Jo can catch up after work. He knows this because if she isn’t spending her free time with him, she’s telling him all about it. But ever since Roy walked into town, he feels like he doesn’t know her at all anymore.

Sure, he could have called her, just like how he could have called her last week or stopped by if he wasn’t outright avoiding her. But he wanted her to be the one to reach out. To show that she still cares about him, even if only as a friend. He’d take that over this weird limbo they’re in right now. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to call while she was at home and risk Roy being there too. Or, even worse, she’s not home and he would have to sit and wonder where she is.

And just when he thought his week couldn’t get any worse, with Pam never calling or showing up or even looking in his direction, he steps out of the garage just in time to see her leaving the studio mid-afternoon that Friday. He sighs because even though he doesn’t know where she’s going, he’s pretty sure he knows why.

Roy.

He really tried not to care. He was determined not to care. He had plans for tonight, too. A beer in the fridge, Blockbuster a few doors down, pizza to be delivered around seven. Maybe he’d stay up all night, watch some movies, play a couple video games, pretend he’s in college again.

My life is pathetic, he thinks, sighing as Pam drives past the shop, not noticing Jim standing out front. Or pretending she doesn’t notice. He’s not sure which one is worse.

And despite his determination to not care, watching her car slowly drive out of view makes him realize that he truly does care. He wishes he didn’t, especially as the weekend wears on and by Sunday morning, he feels like he knows almost every detail of their date. And not from Pam, because of course not, but from practically everyone else in town. He would overhear bits and pieces, what she ate on Friday from two old women in the grocery store, what she wore from his barber on Saturday, people who Jim didn’t even know that Pam talked to had more information about her date than he did. No, sorry, dates. Because if picking her up in a limo and taking her down to Philadelphia for dinner and a live production of Les Misérables at the Merriam Theatre wasn’t enough, on Saturday, he took her to the Jersey Shore for a hot air balloon ride and a picnic on the beach.

How was he supposed to compete with that?

***

Pam woke up on Sunday morning, mind immediately filled with memories of the past two days. Now that was a weekend, she thinks as she lays in bed and reflects on everything that had happened. Her moment of reminiscing is interrupted when Singer starts to whine, so she crawls out of bed to let him outside. She steps out onto the deck, wrapping her arms around herself as the late summer air swirls around her. She watches as Singer surveys the yard, leaning up against the deck railing just as he starts towards the line of trees.

She hasn’t had a weekend like that in… well, she’s honestly never had a weekend like that. Even her nicest dates with Mark couldn’t compare to limo rides, live theatre, and an afternoon in a hot air balloon. She loved her dates with Mark, some of her favorites were the ones spent at home in sweats, but she’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t enjoy Roy spoiling her a little bit. It was different, to say the least, but she enjoyed it.

She almost felt like a completely different person the past two days. When Roy showed up at her house with a limo, she was concerned that her version of fancy severely paled in comparison to his. She could tell his suit was nice and it was tailored to fit him like a glove. Curiosity eventually got the better of her, so while they were walking into the theatre, she asked him about it.  He told her it was Armani just as she stepped inside and saw everyone else dressed in clothing she could only dream of owning. Suddenly, her clearance Nordstrom’s Rack dress, that was still more expensive and nicer than anything she has ever owned besides her wedding dress, felt like rags as she surveyed those around her.

Roy’s hand on her waist draws her back, and she smiles up at him when he pulls her closer. She lets him lead her to their seats and as the lights dim and the performance starts, she quickly forgets about Armani and fancy dresses and clearance racks. Although she was excited when Roy had told her where they were going, she had assumed that watching a play anywhere that wasn’t Broadway would be akin to a really good high school play. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

She was immediately captivated by the actors, the lighting, the orchestra, the backdrops, all of it. She almost forgot she wasn’t actually in France in 1815, smack dab in the beginnings of a revolution, until intermission is announced, and she remembers where she is. She knows Roy had asked her questions, but she doesn’t remember her answers, only counting down the minutes until the show started again.

She still has tears in her eyes when they reach the steak restaurant a few blocks away. She pulls herself together and pretends she can pronounce more than three of the dishes on the menu. She also lets herself pretend that she blends in with everyone else, cloth napkin on her lap and laughing with Roy over salmon and Kennett square mushrooms.

Once they’re alone again in the limo, she’s able to relax more, not having to compare herself to so many others. He pours her a glass of champagne and lets her tell him her favorite parts of the play. By the time they’re back in Scranton, she’s just slightly buzzed, the wine from dinner and the champagne making her feel like maybe she could get used to this kind of lifestyle. One where she spends hundreds of dollars on a date night dress and where she knows what Kennett square mushrooms actually are. She kisses him goodnight after agreeing to another day out tomorrow, then walked inside as she told Singer to stop glaring.

Saturday was just as nice, but she would also be lying if she said she wasn’t happy that things were more her speed. He agreed to take her Jeep instead of his new Lincoln, she was wearing jeans and a cardigan instead of a dress, and they were going to a beach instead of a theatre. The hot air balloon ride was more than she had bargained for, but the views of the ocean were gorgeous, so she wasn’t complaining. She tried to commit it all to memory so she could paint it later, pointing out little details to Roy, never noticing that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

After landing, they walked down the boardwalk, hand in hand. She would pose for some pictures he took and then blush when he complimented her. They walked until the crowd dispersed, until they were alone, the only noise coming from the few seagulls flying overhead. He led her down some stairs until they were on a secluded part of the beach, partially hidden by rocks and hills. He lays out a blanket and as she sits down, she relishes in the normalcy of this moment. She had gone on many picnics, Mark was a big fan of them, so being back on a checkered blanket with a woven basket and nothing else almost felt like heaven. Roy hadn’t packed subs and chips like Mark always would, but she enjoyed the cheese and cracker platter and the bottle of wine he chose to accompany it.

After they finished eating, Roy had offered to give her a foot rub. She originally declined, the thought of anyone rubbing her feet sounded cheesy and a little weird, but she couldn’t help but relax when Roy gently took one of her feet, slipping off her ankle boot and started massaging.

The feeling didn’t last long, though, as her mother’s words came to mind. Pam had been eight years old, sitting on the living room floor as her mother fixed the hem of one of her shirts. Pam had asked what happened to Isaac, one of her mother’s longer-term boyfriends and a guy Pam was actually starting to like that had suddenly stopped showing up. Her mother hummed, deliberating her answer. After a moment she simply shrugs and says, “He didn’t rock my boat. Sometimes that’s just how it is.”

Pam didn’t question it any further, even though she was wondering where this supposed boat was and why she had never seen it. It wasn’t until years later when she finally understood what her mother was saying, and although her mother is far from a good role model, she has considered these words throughout all of her relationships.

She looks over as Singer starts heading back over to her and wonders, Does Roy rock my boat?

He should, right? He’s kind, attentive, handsome, and spoils her even when she tells him not to. But something wasn’t there. Chemistry, spark, whatever it was that kept couples together, she hasn’t found it with Roy. She didn’t feel the tingles up her arm when they held hands or the dreamy feeling after a date like she did with Mark. Dates with Roy were unbelievable. She never would have pictured herself watching live theatre and being 2,000 feet above the ground within twenty-four hours of each other, it just wasn’t what she did, even if she did learn that she kind of liked it. But she couldn’t only blame it on the dates. Roy was great, he is great. He just didn’t rock her boat.

Sometimes, as her mother would say, that’s just how it is.

She can’t help but wonder though, as she walks back inside with Singer, if that’s her fault. If she was rushing things, or if she was holding back too much. She remembered that it took her and Mark a while before they had really formed their relationship. It wasn’t tingles and butterflies right away. Well, maybe there were butterflies, but she knows the tingles didn’t come until later. It helped, though that Mark knew most of her history before they started dating. He knew who she was and she knew who he was, so their dates weren’t filled with small talk and get-to-know-you’s. Her and Roy haven’t reached that stage yet.

So, maybe she needed more time. Her and Roy knew the basics of each other, but when details of their pasts came up, they both avoided the subject. She wasn’t ready to talk about how unsettling it was watching the dozens of men who came and went with her mother or how scary it was living on the streets or how hard it was when Mark died. Those were difficult memories, and she didn’t feel comfortable sharing them yet. Mark had met her while she was in the middle of that part of her life, so it was easy to let him in. Roy had met her when she was older, wiser, more settled in life and herself.

She shakes her head, trying to stop herself from comparing. It was a bad habit she had formed after she had started dating again, comparing any man that showed interest in her to Mark and sighing as she realized none of them could ever get close. But it wasn’t fair, to herself or the men she dated, to compare them to someone who she held up so high.

So, she wouldn’t compare, and maybe she will give Roy a little more time. See if that spark ignites once she lets herself open up a little more.

Singer’s bark brings her back to reality, and her eyebrows furrow as she sees him barking at the door, tail wagging. She walks over and opens the door to Karen with McDonald’s in hand. “So, what happened?” Karen demands, walking past Pam and making herself at home in the living room, “Tell me everything, don’t leave any details out.”

***

“A foot massage?!” Jim asks, not bothering to hide his disbelief.

“According to what she told Karen yesterday, yes.”

“A foot massage??”

Danny shrugs, “He has that kind of flair to him.”

Jim groans, sinking down in his seat. Foot massages were not accounted for when coming up with his plan to win over Pam. Flowers, maybe more jewelry, sure. But not foot massages.

As if his day couldn’t get any worse, Danny says, “Oh, and Dwight called. He’ll be checking on his Trans Am. That decal or whatever you promised him, I don’t know.” He starts walking back towards his office, “Oh, and Philbin will be here later for his truck. Will you have that done? I promised him it’d be done by today.”

Jim looks out of the garage door towards the studio, “Yeah, I’ll get it done.”

***

Kelly was not happy.

She was almost sick to her stomach after hearing everything that Roy had done for Pam on Friday and Saturday. A limo, champagne, watching Lame Is or whatever the heck it’s called, then a hot air balloon ride and a picnic on the beach, it sounds like a dream come true, and Pam seems so nonchalant about it. Shrugging it off, as if it’s no big deal. 

She wanted to brag about her weekend. How it was exactly like all the others she’s had recently, hanging out at Poor Richard’s on Saturday, trying to find someone to bring home. She had run into Cobra – sorry, Ryan – again, trying to fight off his advances, hoping anyone else would talk to her. How she eventually gave up and went home alone because that was better than going home with Ryan again. And then yesterday she spent all day mending her nails after losing the tips the night before. She was sure Jo and Pam would love to hear that, that they would just be boiling with jealousy over her weekend activities.

But neither had asked about her weekend. It was only “was the limo nice?” “did you let him drive the jeep?” “please tell me you’re going to paint me the view from the balloon.” Pam. Pam. Pam. It’s all about Pam. She returns to filing down her nails, having not completed the job yesterday. She huffs, not surprised that Pam and Jo don’t even glance in her direction.

This is not how things are supposed to be.

***

Roy walked into the studio, holding the door open for Pam’s client who was making her way out. He smiles up at her once the door was closed and although she smiles back, her mind is still swirling with thoughts of boat rocking, opening up, no sparks, and more time.

“You look beautiful,” he says before leaning down for a kiss. It’s quick and nice but there are no fireworks, but she can’t really expect every kiss to be magical like it had been with Mark, right?

Stop comparing.

She shakes her head and thanks him for the compliment. He nods back towards the door, “Are you free for a cup of coffee?”

Jo had gone out for an early lunch with a friend and Pam glances over at Kelly who is sitting in front of an easel, but reading Cosmo magazine instead of painting. She looks back to Roy and nods, “Yeah, I’ve got a little time. My next lesson is in half an hour, though.”

“Great,” he reaches for her hand but stops when his eyes catch the little area of skin above her shirt, his forehead wrinkling. “Where’s your locket?”

Her hand automatically gravitates to her chest, as if to confirm that she wasn’t wearing it, even though she knew she had taken it off before bed last night and purposefully didn’t put it on this morning. “Oh, yeah. It kept falling forward, almost hitting the canvases. I didn’t want it to get covered in paint.”

He had a smile on his face, but she still couldn’t quite read his expression. It seemed almost plastic, the way he was looking at her. “Why didn’t you just slip it under your shirt?”

“I did, but it kept falling out.”

“I’ll get you a shorter chain, then it won’t get in your way.”

She raises an eyebrow, “That’s okay, really. I just won’t wear it to work.” She pauses and studies his face, which hasn’t changed. “Does it really bother you that much that I don’t wear it?”

“I just thought you liked it.”

“I do. I just don’t want to wear it while I’m working.”

He seemed to consider that for a second, his expression growing more natural. “I’ll get you a shorter chain. That way you can have two and you can wear it whenever you want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He takes her hand and leads her to the door, “But I want to.”

She looks up at him as he opens the door for her and she steps past him. His smile is more genuine, his voice is lighter, and he seems to have relaxed since originally noticing she wasn’t wearing the locket. But there was still something on his face – she just couldn’t figure out what.

***

Kelly let her Cosmo magazine fall to the floor as soon as the door closed behind Roy and Pam. She leans back in her chair, no longer hiding the look of disgust on her face now that she’s alone.

Doesn’t Pam know how great she has it? How kind and giving Roy is? Not every guy just gives out hot air balloon rides and expensive lockets while not expecting anything in return. She’s pretty sure Pam hasn’t even French kissed him yet, and he still does all of these things for her. The limo ride must have cost more than all of her own dates combined in the past year. Hell, it was probably more than all of her dates earned in the past year combined.

And Pam isn’t even the least bit grateful. Why wouldn’t she want to wear the stupid locket? Even if it wasn’t Kelly’s taste, per say, she knew it was nice and she would definitely wear it if Roy had given it to her. He was obviously upset when he saw she didn’t have it on, but Pam just tried to brush it off. He offered to buy her a second chain, so she could have options, and Pam wanted none of it.

Pam didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend like she was wearing it. She had to have known Roy would be showing up. He showed up every day, always around this time, without fail. And after a weekend full of champagne and picnics and massages? What did she expect?

She felt bad for Roy, not being appreciated like he should be. If only he had asked her out instead of Pam that first day he showed up in the studio, she could show him what it was truly like to be loved like he deserved.

Roy, she decided, was the best man she had ever met. She wondered if Pam would be willing to give him up. She certainly didn’t deserve him.

***

Manipulated.

She was in the middle of her next lesson when the word manipulated crossed her mind, giving her the exact feeling she had had since Roy had gone back to work. The thought made her freeze, prompting her client to ask if she was okay. She nodded and gave her the weekly assignment early, allowing Pam to wash brushes and think about her newly discovered feelings towards Roy.

While driving to coffee, sitting in the café, and driving back to work, she constantly reminded herself to not compare, open up, take her time. But their conversation in the studio wouldn’t leave her head, no matter how hard she tried. And no matter how much she replayed the conversation, she couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with it. That is, until she was in the middle of her lesson and she almost felt lightheaded once she came to the realization.

She didn’t like feeling manipulated, especially by someone who supposedly cared about her. Promises to herself aside, she couldn’t help but think of the differences between Mark and Roy once more. Mark rarely got angry, but when he did, he didn’t try to mask it. He would let her know that he was upset and why and they would usually come to a solution before they went to bed, if not within a few minutes. She can think of only twice where they went to sleep still unhappy with each other in the almost decade they were together. But Roy really tried to act as if he wasn’t upset, wasn’t angry, as if everything was fine, when it clearly wasn’t. He was obviously distressed that she wasn’t wearing the locket.

But why?

She told him why she wasn’t wearing it, and she was telling the truth. Sure, acrylic paints would probably wash right off, but she didn’t want her oils to get stuck in the engravings, staining and ruining the necklace. A shorter chain would help make sure it didn’t get caught up in any paintings, but she also didn’t see the big deal about just wearing it after work. She liked it, she had told him that, so why was he being so particular about this locket?

She checks on her client, answering a few questions before letting her get back to work.

Manipulated.

It was as if he wanted her to feel guilty about not wearing it. It was a gift. Yes, an expensive and very nice gift, but a gift, nonetheless. Karen gave her a pair of shoes and a nice sweater for her birthday last year, but she never has asked why Pam isn’t wearing either.

The Roy who came into the studio this morning felt so different from the one she sat next to in the theatre and who she watched the ocean with while eating cheese and crackers. The way he talked, his smile, his obvious displeasure, even though he was trying to convince her otherwise. It just felt… off.

She remembers the look on his face as he dropped her back off at the studio. As long as you listen to me and we do things my way, we won’t have a problem, he seemed to imply in between his smile and his “Goodbye, Pam.”

She does a final check on her client’s work before wishing her a good rest of the day and walking her out. Once she was alone in the back room again, she sits up on the table, resting her face in her hands.

If she felt confused yesterday, then she was outright conflicted now. She feels like a broken record, telling herself over and over that she likes Roy. He’s a good guy. He just has a few flaws. Everyone has flaws. He cares about her. She likes him. Just a few flaws. He cares.

She just wishes that she didn’t have to convince herself so much that they should be together. There was a reason, even if it was subconscious, on why she saw the locket sitting on her dresser this morning and walked right past it, not giving it a second thought until Roy brought it up. After wearing it all last week, then throughout the entire weekend, why didn’t she wear it today?

She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she should listen to her mother’s advice after all. Sometimes that’s just how it is.

***

Jim was standing in the middle of the garage, next to a red Trans Am that was his customer’s pride and joy. The same customer who Jim is currently trying to not hit over the head with a wrench.

Danny had conveniently forgotten about a very important call he had to make right up until Dwight walked through the garage doors, then excused himself to his office before Dwight could announce his presence. 27 minutes later, Jim has counted, Dwight is complaining that the Batman decal he had requested be put on the hood of his car is exactly “zero-point-seven inches off center, moron.”

Truth be told, Dwight was lucky that Jim had agreed to put on the decal. It’s not usually something he offers, but Dwight is one of their biggest clients, so he made an exception. Dwight lived right outside of Scranton, but his farm provided most of the fresh vegetables for the county. He lived in a farmhouse with his wife, Angela, and in addition to growing a plentiful crop every year, he is also known to breed certain breeds of dogs, which is how Pam got Singer. Honestly, that’s the main reason he puts up with Dwight and his annoyances. Pam has a soft spot for him because of Singer, and Jim loves the dog himself, so he’ll put up with Dwight’s requests the one or two times a year he makes them, as an unspoken thank you.

Unfortunately for Jim, owning one of the biggest farms in Lackawanna County also means that losing Dwight as a customer would mean taking a major blow as a business. And Dwight knows it, too. So, even if Pam hated him and he never gave her Singer, Jim would still be forced to fake a smile and nod along as Dwight drags on about how the Batman symbol has to be exactly centered in order for him to be taken seriously.

It takes all of Jim’s self-control to not laugh out loud.

Instead, he says, “Of course,” because obviously the Batman symbol being just slightly off center is what’s going to make others not take him seriously.

Dwight must have noticed the hint of sarcasm behind Jim’s tone because he looks at him, a slight scowl hiding behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Is there a problem?”

“Nope.”

“Jim.”

“Dwight.”

Dwight does something that’s between a sigh and a scoff, and Jim can just hear the satisfying whack the wrench would make against Dwight’s thick skull. “Jim. Jim, Jim, Jim. Haven’t I been a loyal customer for the past twelve years?”

“Yes.”

“Haven’t I brought all of my cars here? And my tractors?”

“Yes.”

“So, by nine a.m. tomorrow morning, I expect this symbol to be precisely centered.”

“Precise.”

“I’m going to Comic-Con in Maryland this weekend, so I need this to be perfect. I handmade an exact replica of Batman’s suit from the original comics, so I can’t show up with a Batmobile that has an off centered logo. Got it, Grease Monkey?”

Whack. Whack. Whack. “Grease Monkey. Got it.”

Dwight starts walking out of the garage doors, talking over his shoulder, “Tomorrow, nine a.m.”

Jim finally unclenched his fists that he had hidden in his pockets as Danny slowly opens his office door. He checks to make sure the coast really is clear before walking over to Jim, standing behind him. Jim was still staring out the doors, mumbling to himself, unaware that Danny had entered the room.

“Maybe you should have made sure it was centered,” Danny offers, “The logo I mean.”

Jim glances back at him, “Shut up.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

Jim wipes his hands on his overalls before heading towards the back shelves. “Yeah, well you’re not.”

Danny follows behind him, “I’m just saying, maybe there’s something else you can do to calm him down next time.”

“Duct tape?”

“I was thinking of something a little more subtle.”

Jim turns to face him, leaning back against the shelves. “Like what?”

“Maybe a foot massage would do the trick.” He smirks at Jim’s jaw dropping before turning and heading back to his office.

Sometimes Jim really hated his brother.

Darryl had come by a few hours later to pick up his truck. He paid for the repairs with Danny before meeting Jim by the driver’s side door.

“The keys are on the seat. Oh, and I noticed the brakes were a little loose, so I tightened them, on the house. Just be prepared for that. Other than that, it’s good to go.”

Darryl Philbin, head of the construction team that Roy is a part of and one of the biggest city-slickers Jim has ever met. For someone who worked around dirt and dust all day, he dressed exceptionally well. He wore a suit that Jim was sure cost more than a week of his own salary, a Rolex on his wrist, and a pair of shoes that looked like they came straight from a Vineyard Vines catalog. Jim would have been self-conscious of his own appearance if his outfit wasn’t covered by his work overalls.

“I’ll let them know,” Darryl says, “Though, I’m not even sure why I’m here. Usually maintenance handles this stuff but,” he scoffs a little, “most of them are still down in Austin. The rest are too busy picking up their slack, so it’s up to the boss to do the in between stuff, you know?”

“Definitely.” He points his thumb to Danny’s office door, “That guy likes to think he’s the boss, but I think everyone in town knows who does the most work here.” Darryl laughs, and Jim takes his happy mood as his opportunity to maybe find out some more information on Roy. “So, uh, how many guys you’ve got working for you?”

“I don’t know, a couple hundred, maybe? But they’re spread out between a few states. Why, you looking for a job?”

“Oh, no, I just do cars.” He taps the hood of the truck with his fist, as if confirming his job title. “I had just met one of your workers the other day, one of the engineers working on the bridge across town.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Roy Anderson.”

Jim notices that Darryl’s face immediately hardens, “Oh.”

“You know him?”

He scoffs, “Yeah. I know him.”

Jim leans against the side of the truck, hoping to keep the conversation casual. “Nice guy?”

“What do you think?”

Jim hesitated, not really expecting that as an answer. “I think it sounds like the answer’s no.”

Darryl was quiet for a moment, considering Jim’s answer. Finally he looked back over at him, “What’s it to you, anyway? Is he your friend?”

“Oh, no. I just met him that one time.”

Darryl turns and opens the truck door, “Good. Keep it that way, you don’t want to know him.”

Jim’s eyebrows knitted together, “Why’s that?”

Darryl paused, and after a moment shook his head and climbed into the truck, asking if he was good to leave. Jim had tried to ask again, but Darryl ignored his question, so Jim took a step back so he could pull out. He watches as Darryl drives off, leaving Jim with even more questions than he started with.

He wasn’t able to think about it for long though, as Singer trotted into the garage a couple minutes later.

Jim lets out a small oof as Singer jumps up on him, resting a paw on each shoulder. “Hey, big guy. What are you doing over here?”

Singer whined before hopping off, walking over to where Jim usually keeps his lunch.

“Already ate, bud. No more food left for today.” He nods towards the office door though. “Danny has some though, and he left while I was talking to Darryl. Let’s go clean him out.”

Singer led the way, pushing open the door that Danny had left cracked. Jim followed behind, walking around Singer to open the bottom desk drawer, pulling out Danny’s favorite, and secret, snacks, powdered donuts and chocolate chip cookies.

He alternated between eating a couple himself and tossing the others to Singer. He knew it probably wasn’t good for him, but his tail wagged a little more with each treat. He got to spend some time with Singer, he knew Danny would be annoyed when he got back and saw that his stash was missing, and if he was lucky, Singer would stick around long enough so Pam will have to come get him. Overall, he saw this as a win-win…win.

***

Pam finished cleaning up after her last lesson of the day before walking out to the main room. She looks around, eyebrows furrowing slightly when she notices that Singer isn’t laying by the door. She turns to Jo, “Have you seen Singer?”

“I let him out about an hour ago, he was standing at the door.”

“And he hasn’t come back?”

Jo shrugs, “I think he went over to the garage.”

Pam rolls her eyes, “Alright, I’ll go find him.”

She pushes open the studio door and then glances down both sides of the street before crossing over. Once she reaches the garage, she immediately spotting Jim sitting near the doors. “Hey, Jim.”

He looks up from the puzzle he’s working on and grins when he sees her walk up, “Hi.”

She laughs when she’s close enough to see the puzzle box, “You’re still working on this one? It’s been like… three weeks.”

“I’ll have you know that this isn’t your everyday puzzle. It’s fifteen-hundred pieces.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Still, three weeks?”

“I didn’t know there was a time restraint on my hobbies. So, did you come over here for a reason, or just to tease me?”

She grins, “As much as I do love to tease you… have you seen Singer?”

“Oh, yeah,” he points to the side of the room, and she takes another step forward to see Singer lying on a blanket, snoring away, originally hidden by Dwight’s Trans Am. Jim chuckles, “I may have fed him too many treats.”

“You spoil him.” She whistles and Singer slowly brings his head up, looking over at her with droopy eyes. He gets up when he sees it’s Pam and walks over to her, circling around her as she pats his back. “I was starting to think something happened to him.”

Jim smiled, thankful that Singer hadn’t gone back to the studio.

She looks back up at him, “Thanks for keeping an eye on him. What’s going on?”

Well, Roy’s boss was just in here a little bit ago and basically told me that Roy isn’t a guy we should be hanging around, Jim thinks, but he doesn’t think Pam wants to hear about that right now. Instead, he shrugs.

“Not much, just this,” he gestures to the puzzle, “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Just fine?”

She shrugs a shoulder, “Just one of those days, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do. Especially today. I had to deal with Dwight this morning and then Danny almost died.”

“What? Danny almost died??”

“Died… killed… is there a difference?”

“Well, one of those lands you behind bars.”

Jim grins and points at her, “See, that is exactly why he’s not six feet under right now. I couldn’t think of what I would say to my parents after I ended up in jail. ‘He was teasing me’ didn’t seem like it would cut it.”

“He must have been giving you a hard time if you we’re on the brink of a murder.”

“You have no idea.”

“Poor thing, remind me to cry you a river tonight.”

He smiles, “I knew I could count on you.”

She giggles, sometimes he was just so cute, especially with that lopsided grin. “So, what did Danny say that almost got him killed?”

Jim shakes his head. He couldn’t tell her Danny’s comment, couldn’t explain why they were talking about her and Roy and foot massages. So, instead, motions over to the soda machine before he says, “Oh, you know. The same old stuff.”

She follows behind him, Singer on her heels. “Must have been pretty good if you won’t tell me.”

“Oh, it was. What about you? Anything new?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some change, dropping them into the machine for a coke for her, and then again for a grape soda for him.

She takes the coke, appreciating that he already knew what she would want. She gestures towards Singer, “Besides this guy running away, not really.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Singer. If he got hit, we both know the car would be the one who’s hurt.”

She laughs and shrugs one shoulder again, “Yeah, I don’t know. He’s just been acting weird lately.”

“You mean with Roy?”

“Roy, me, at the studio. I mean, you know him. He never runs away like this.”

Jim smiles, trying to reassure her that Singer is fine, “He just missed me, that’s all. Plus, he knows I have the good stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was still worried, though.”

“That’s because you’re a woman. Us men are built to not worry.”

Her eyebrow goes up, and she takes a sip of her coke. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Dwight.”

“Or maybe you’re not spending enough time with him.”

She laughs, “Yeah, okay.”

He hesitates, not wanting to talk about Roy, but knowing that asking her about him would make him seem like he cares, like he’s still her best friend. “So, how are things? With Roy, I mean.”

Her thoughts go back to yesterday’s and then what had happened today. How were they going? “They’re okay. This weekend was alright, but…” she trails off, unsure about how much she actually wants to tell Jim about her feelings towards Roy.

“But?”

“It’s not important.”

“Pam.”

She smiles, “Really, it’s not.”

He studied her for a moment before nodding. He certainly didn’t want to talk about Roy, so if she didn’t either, he wasn’t gonna fight her about it. “Alright. Well, you know if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m always around, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She rests a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease the tension that had built up since bringing up Roy, “You should get out more, sometimes I get worried about you, too. You could travel, take some exotic trip.”

“And ruin my consecutive streak of Star Trek marathons?”

“Exactly,” she laughs. “Anything is better than consecutive Star Trek marathons. But, hey, if travelling isn’t your thing, you could find something else. Maybe learn an instrument.”

Jim holds his hand up to his chest, letting out a low whistle. “Ouch, Beesly. That was a low blow.”

Her eyes light up, “As good as Danny’s?”

He hums, considering it. “No, his was better.”

“Darn.”

“What can I say, you’re just a rookie.”

She rolls her eyes, but then leans back against the shelf and takes a moment to evaluate him. She’s missed talking to him the past couple weeks. Almost forgot how much fun it is to just talk to him. “You know, you’re pretty easy to get along with.”

He downs the rest of his soda and then chuckles, “Why, because I’m so easy to tease?”

“No, because you’re such a good sport about it.”

“You know,” he says while pretending to scrape off some grease from under his fingernail, “it’s funny you say that because Kelly said the exact same thing to me the other day.”

Pam paused, unsure if she had heard him right. “Kelly?”

“Yeah, this past weekend, when we went out on our date.” He looks over at the clock on the wall, “Oh, shoot, that reminds me, I’m supposed to pick her up in a few minutes.”

She couldn’t have hidden the shock on her face even if she wanted to. “Wait. You and Kelly?”

“Yeah, she’s great. We had a fun time.” He starts to walk around her, “I’m really glad you stopped by, but I should get changed before picking her up.”

She grabs his wrist, pulling him back towards her. “Hold up. You and Kelly?”

He looks at her solemnly for a moment before winking, “Had you going there, didn’t I?”

She drops his wrist, crossing her arms over her chest. “No.”

“C’mon, Bees. Just a little?”

“No.”

“Admit it.”

She rolls her eyes, “Fine. A little bit.”

He grins, “Good. Now we’re even.”

***

After confirming that he really hadn’t gone out with Kelly and that he didn’t need to go pick her up, Pam said goodbye to Jim and made her way back to the studio with Singer. She opens the door to Jo’s surprised face. “What?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to come back, that’s all. Roy stopped by and asked for you, I told him you went to go get Singer from the garage. You didn’t see him?”

“No, when did he stop by?”

“Just like a minute ago, I thought he had gone to find you. But you should have seen him on your way back here.”

She frowns a little and shakes her head, “No, I didn’t. Hm, weird.”

“You could probably still catch him if you went now.”

Pam glanced back at the door, debating if she should go. A moment passed, though, making the decision for her. Jo spoke up, acting as if the previous conversation had never happened. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Everyone complained today. If it wasn’t the kids complaining about sharing, it was the parents complaining about everything else under the sun.”

“Must be a full moon or something,” Pam mutters, “Everyone is acting strange today.”

“Even Jim?”

“No, Jim’s always the same.”

Jo nods and then walks over to her desk and goes into the bottom drawer, pulling out a silver flask. “Well, I think it’s about time to shake off the cobwebs, you want to join me?”

“Yes, please. I’ll lock the door.”

By the time Pam has locked the door and turned back around, Jo is sitting on the couch near the front door. Having kicked off her shoes, her socked feet are up on the coffee table, and she’s leaning back, as if on some tropical vacation and not in a small art studio in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Pam sits down next to her, kicking off her own shoes and tucking her feet underneath her. Jo hands her the flask without opening her eyes and Pam takes a long sip before handing it back.

They sit in silence for a minute before Jo looks over at Pam. “So, how is Jim doing? He hasn’t stopped by recently.”

“He’s good. Just working, fighting with Danny, the usual stuff.” Her face lights up and she rests a hand on Jo’s arm, “Oh, did you hear that he’s going to be playing at Poor Richard’s with Scrantonicity in a few weeks?”

Jo rolls her head back, closing her eyes once again, “Hurray.”

Pam laughs, “Be nice. Scrantonicity is a pretty good band, even if they only cover The Police. Maybe it will actually lead somewhere.”

“We both know it won’t.”

“He’s not that bad.”

Jo sits up and looks at Pam, “Honey, I know he’s your best friend and all, but I’ve seen that boy naked more times than I could count. He’s family, I love him to death. But he is that bad. I hate to say it, and I know he hates to hear it, since it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, but that’s the truth. Like the good book says, “Suffer not the terrible singers, for they shall ruin the ears.”

“The good book does not say that.”

“Well, it should. And it probably would, if Jim were around back then.”

Pam shrugs, “Well, it makes him happy, so it makes me happy.”

Jo offers a small smile and reaches out to squeeze Pam’s hand. “You’re a kind soul, Pam.” She leans back again, but keeps her gaze on her. “So, how are things with you and Roy? You barely mentioned him since you got back from coffee this morning.”

“It’s going okay, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s going okay,” Pam repeated.

Jo studied Pam’s face for a moment, “So, why didn’t you go looking for him after I told you he was looking for you?”

Pam drops her gaze, suddenly transfixed with a small hole in her pantyhose. “I don’t know, I just had already seen him today.”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense.”

Pam grabs the flask out of Jo’s hand and takes another long sip, the alcohol burning her throat more than it did the first time. She looks back at Jo. She can’t talk to Jim about Roy, and she didn’t even tell Karen her full feelings on Sunday when she stopped by, but she could talk to Jo. Jo would get it, she thinks.

“You know that locket Roy gave me?”

“How could I forget, P.B.?”

She gives a small smile before sighing, “Well, the problem was that I didn’t wear it today.”

“So what?”

“That’s what I thought. But Roy was like, really upset about it. Offended, almost. He tried to pretend he wasn’t, but I could tell.”

“If he got offended over that, remind me to never offer him some of my potato salad.” When Pam doesn’t answer, she waves her hand, “Okay, so what? He got offended. Everyone’s got their quirks, maybe this is one of his. There could be worse things, believe me. You have to compare today to everything else he’s done, see the bigger picture. You’ve been on what – three dates now?”

“Four, if you count this weekend as two.”

“And you’ve said he’s been nice?”

“So far, yes.”

“Then maybe today was just a bad day. Didn’t get enough sleep or something happened at work. Who knows?”

Pam nodded, drumming her fingers against the flask. “Maybe.”

Jo takes the flask out of Pam’s hands this time and takes a sip before resting a hand on Pam’s knee. “Don’t worry about it too much, sweetie. As long as he didn’t go overboard, it’s not a big deal.”

“So just let it go?”

Jo points at her, “I didn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t completely ignore it, either. If it’s bugging you this much, then keep it in the back of your mind. But don’t let one little tantrum ruin something that could be good. You just have to follow your intuitions with these kinds of things, trust your gut.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jo smiles, “I usually am.” She offers Pam the flask again and when she shakes her head, Jo takes a final sip then closes the flask, setting it down on the table. “So, four dates, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Will there be a fifth?”

Pam shrugs, “He hasn’t asked, but I think he will.”

“That’s a strange way of answering the question.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t say what you were going to say if he asked.

Pam looked away, “No, I guess I didn’t.”

***

Roy is sitting on her porch when she pulls into the driveway. Singer gave a low growl but stops when she turns off the car and looks at him. “Stay here until I say so, okay?” She unbuckles her seatbelt and puts her hand on the door handle before looking at Singer again, “And be good.”

She steps out of the car and walks over to the porch, Roy having stood up once she was in the driveway.

“Hi, Pam.”

“Hello, Roy.” She wraps her jacket around herself a little tighter, “What are you doing here?”

He glances behind her, as if considering his answer. He looks back down at her, “I had a few minutes and thought I would drop by. I tried to catch you at the studio, but Jo said you had left.”

“I had to go get Singer, he went over to the garage with Jim.”

Roy nodded, “Jo had mentioned that, too. I couldn’t stay, though. The office is really busy right now and I had to drop off some blueprints before Philbin left for the day. I actually have to leave right after this, but I needed to see you and apologize for this morning. I was thinking about it, and I realized that I went a little overboard.” He smiled a little, though he looked genuinely guilty, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I know. No excuses, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She pushes a loose curl behind her ear, “Were you really that upset that I wasn’t wearing it?”

“No, trust me. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what was it?”

He looks away again, staring at her Jeep for a moment before looking down at his shoes. “I just had a really nice time this weekend, and I thought you had to. But then when I saw that you weren’t wearing the locket, I thought maybe you didn’t have as good of a time as I thought. I thought maybe I had let you down somehow.” He looks back up at her, “You don’t know how much I’ve enjoyed our time together. Can you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Pam thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah.”

“I knew you’d understand.” He steps down off her porch. “Well, like I said, I gotta get going.”

“Okay,” she said simply, forcing a smile.

He walked around her, and she was thankful that he didn’t try to kiss her. She waits until he starts his car before calling for Singer and heading inside.

Roy slowly makes his way to the front door of the place he temporarily calls home. The Victorian-style house sat alone, surrounded by pine trees and a little over a mile off of the main road. The only thing guiding his path is the moonlight cascading through the trees. He fights through the weeds and fallen branches that have taken over his yard, the landscaping having not been kept up with since before he had moved in. He didn’t mind, though. He enjoyed the randomness of nature, how the grass near the driveway grew slower than all the rest or how the trees in the backyard dropped more branches than the ones in the front. The randomness stops at the door, though, as he walks into his house, surveying the neatness in which he has always preferred.

Most nights, he walks into his house, pours a glass of whiskey, and settle on the tan corduroy couch that he has learned to appreciate. He had originally hated the plastic lamps with fake brass and the cheap, plain cotton curtains. It was all Scranton had to offer, though, when he went out to find just enough furniture to make his house look presentable.

But tonight, he isn’t worried about his home décor or that glass of whiskey. All he can think about is Pam and how he almost ruined everything with her… again. He pushed her too hard, the look on her face when he asked about the locket and then again just twenty minutes ago on her porch killed him. He hated seeing her question him, calling him out on his mistakes. She was stubborn, was becoming a challenge. But, if he was honest with himself, he also sort of liked that. After all, he resented weakness.

And, he has come to find out, Pam was anything but weak. Why was she living in a town like this? Pam, he thought, deserved to live in a city. Somewhere with crowded sidewalks, flashy signs, quick insults, and snarky comebacks. Scranton has nothing to offer her and everything she is capable of. She was so much more than this town, and if she stayed here, she would ultimately end up growing weak, just like his mother had. And, in time, there would be nothing to respect.

Just like his mother. The victim. Always the victim.

He remembers a time when he was only six years old. He stood on his front lawn and watched as his mother, donning a black eye and bloody lip, quickly packed the car. They had just under an hour before his father, Neville, arrives home for lunch. This was the third time his mother, Edith, had tried to leave, but she never made it past the front door the last two times. Roy was hopeful this time, since they had made it out to the car, a suitcase in the trunk and $37 worth of assorted change in her purse.

It had taken her over a year to save up even that much. Neville handled all the finances, never letting Edith near the checkbook. Any money she managed to get a hold of was the change that fell out of Neville’s pockets when he would fall asleep in front of the television. She would then save it in a detergent box on the top shelf of the laundry room, heart racing anytime Neville went in that direction.

Roy was sure she was planning on saving up some more before another attempt at escape, but after that previous night, he doesn’t blame her for leaving early.

Roy had been in bed, trying to sleep, when he heard his mother crying. Begging Neville to stop, that she was sorry she hadn’t gotten the laundry finished like he asked. He heard the crack of his father’s hand hitting his mother’s cheek, and the crash of her body against the wall a minute later. She had tried to explain that she had to take their son to the doctor’s but was only met with cursing and accusations. “He doesn’t look like me! He isn’t mine!!”

Roy hoped that was true. He didn’t want to be related to the monster who beats his mother and curses at him. The one who drinks until he can’t walk and smokes until he can only cough. It would be the best news he’d ever heard if he found out that he truly wasn’t his father’s son.

Now, his mother turns to him and tells him to run inside and grab the loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter, they’re going to be going on a picnic. “Grab your jacket, too, in case it gets cold. And hurry…” she pauses, looking down the street where his father would be coming soon to enjoy lunch at home, “we want to make sure we can find a good table at the park.”

He ran inside, knowing they don’t have much time left. Even at six years old, he knew they should have left the moment his father disappeared over the hill on his way to work. But he watched as his mother sat at the kitchen table, smoking cigarette after cigarette, her hands shaking. It wasn’t until approximately 20 minutes ago that she got up, hurrying to her room to pack a bag, muttering that she was leaving this time. Really leaving. For good. If she didn’t, he would kill her, and then her son. She couldn’t let that happen, so she had to leave. No coming back. She repeated this to herself as Roy watched from the doorway, a mantra that he knew she repeated in order to give her the strength to keep going.

He ran back out to the car, slamming the door to the Pontiac closed as he dropped the bread, peanut butter, and his jacket to the floor. He looked over at his mother, her eyes bloodshot and her smile crooked due to her swollen lip, it almost scared him. But she gripped the car key that she had quietly stolen off of his father’s key ring this morning. Neville always walked to work, but brought the jumbled and crowded key ring with him every day, making sure his wife wouldn’t be able to leave. She had managed to sneak it off while he had his morning cigarette and coffee on the back deck, hiding it in the freezer until she finished packing the suitcase.

Now that key was the only thing standing in between their present and their future. It was the key to their escape (literally), but also the key to their new lives, to new promises, to new starts. She tries to start the car but misses the ignition, her hands shaking harder than they had earlier that day. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her hands and calm her nerves. She inserts the key and turns the car over, both listening to the engine roar to life. Roy grinned up at his mother, only to watch her face fall. He followed her gaze to the dashboard, seeing the fuel gauge is on E. They wouldn’t have been able to make it out of Boston, let alone far enough to truly escape.

So, they stayed. Again.

That night, he heard his parents in their bedroom again. This time, though, their voices weren’t laced with anger, instead with laughter in between kisses. He then heard his mother’s heavy breaths and his father’s name on her lips. The next morning, after getting out of bed and going down to the kitchen, he saw his father’s hands resting on his mother’s skirt. Neville gives a sly smirk to Roy, winking as his hands slide a little further down his mother’s sides.

His mother had turned weak.

Roy snaps out of his flashback, leaning back against the front door. He shakes his head, Pam couldn’t stay here. Not if she wanted to lead the life she was meant to. He would get her out of here, make sure she got the life she deserved. She wouldn’t get it here.

He was stupid to have said anything about the locket. Stupid. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Lost in thought, he barely registered his phone ringing. He pushes off of the door and walks over to it before the machine can pick it up. He sees the Salt Lake City area code and takes a deep breath before answering.

***

Pam covers her head with her pillow, trying to block out the growl that Singer has been letting out for over an hour. Her head was pounding, allergies finally kicking in and giving her their all. Singer doesn’t care though, even after she throws a pillow at him. He ignores it, staring at her bedroom door, not getting any quieter.

“Singer, shut up. My head is killing me, and I have work in the morning, I need to sleep.”

He was determined, though, keeping his stance at the door.

“There’s nothing out there, it’s the middle of the night. I’m not getting out of bed.”

He continued to growl, not sinister or any snarling, not even the sounds he made when men came to check on the water meter or – God forbid – deliver the mail. Just a low, constant rumble that was just too loud to ignore.

She throws the pillow covering her head at him, which makes him stop growling and Pam sighs, grateful. She covers her eyes with her arm, trying to will her headache to go away so she can finally sleep. It doesn’t last long, as Singer shoves his nose into her ear and she groans, sitting up.

“Fine! That’s it!”

Singer wags his tail, looking up at her, Now we’re getting somewhere, let’s go.

Pam grudgingly follows Singer out of the bedroom, expecting him to turn towards the back door so he can investigate the line of trees. Instead, he goes to the front window, pushing the curtain aside and peeking out. Pam joins him, seeing nothing but her neighbor’s houses and a couple of lamp posts, nothing that shouldn’t be there. “See, I told you. Nothing.”

Singer huffs and goes to the front door, scratching it once. Pam raised an eyebrow at him.

“If you go out, I’m not waiting up for you. I’m going back to bed. So, if you go out, you’re staying out.”

Singer doesn’t move, so she opens the front door, expecting him to bolt out. He surprises her for the second time tonight by slowly stepping out onto the porch. Pam steps out onto the porch, crossing her arms over her chest as he barks twice before sniffing the ground. He looks out towards the street once more before looking up at her, The coast is clear, we’re safe now. You can go to bed.

“You’re joking.”

He steps around her, going back inside. She follows behind him, closing and locking the door behind her. “You really kept me up for that?” He looks up at her, What? I protected you. She rolls her eyes, and she doesn’t care if she’s acting like a toddler, she stomps around him and back upstairs. She glances back when she reaches the top of the stairs after not hearing Singer follow behind her. He’s back at the window, curtains pushed aside, staring straight ahead. “Whatever,” she mumbles, walking to the bathroom to take a Tylenol. He’s still at the window when she walks back to her bedroom, so she closes the door behind her, then picks her pillows up off the floor before getting back into bed.

When he started snarling and barking an hour later, this time in earnest, Pam didn’t hear him.

***

The next morning, Pam throws her hair up into a loose pony and grabs a pair of sunglasses. Her headache was still lingering, though she was grateful it wasn’t as blinding as it had been the night before. Singer stands beside her now as she takes out the letter from under the windshield wiper of her Jeep.

Pam,

Got called out of town due to an emergency. I won’t be able to see you for a few days, but I’ll call as soon as I can. I won’t stop thinking of you.

                                                                                                                                                                -Roy

She looks down at Singer who is looking up at her expectantly. She turns the note towards him, “This is what made you keep me up for hours last night? Roy?”

She rolls her eyes when he gets a smug look on his face, I told you someone was here.

“Don’t give me that. He didn’t even come up to the door. And besides, you know him, so you have to get over this.”

She swears he rolls his eyes right back at her before turning to stand at the back of the Jeep. She opens the back door and he jumps in. After closing the door she walks over and gets into the driver’s seat, looking in the rearview mirror to see Singer’s back turned to her. She lightly scoffs, “Yeah, well I’m mad at you, too.”

He doesn’t look at her the whole drive to work, he doesn’t even hang his head out the window like he usually does. She opens the door for him after parking and even though she calls after him, he walks around her and crosses the street, heading towards the garage.

Dogs.

Sometimes, she thought, they were just as childish as men.

***

Jo was on the phone, cancelling all of Kelly’s lessons for the day. She had decided to take another “personal day,” the fifth one this month. Jo was just glad that Kelly had at least called to let her know this time. There was no doubt Kelly would come in tomorrow with some crazy story. Her last personal day, she swore she saw Usher walking through the local Walmart. She ended up following him around all day before finally realizing it wasn’t actually him. The question of why Usher would be hanging out in a Walmart in Scranton, Pennsylvania never seemed to cross her mind.

She’s just hanging up the phone when the bell above the door jingles, and she turns to see Pam walking in. Jo reaches for her box of treats before realizing that Pam had walked in alone. “Where’s Singer?”

Pam drops her purse onto a shelf near her station. “He went to visit Jim.”

“Again?”

She shrugs, “We had a fight.”

Jo smiles, remembering Pam would hold the same tone whenever her and Mark got into a fight. Pam didn’t seem to realize how ridiculous it may sound to other people, though. “A fight, huh?”

“Yeah.” Pam washes her hands before double checking her schedule, “So I guess he’s off pouting, like he’s punishing me for having the nerve to yell at him. But he deserved it.”

“Ah,” Jo says, sitting down in her desk chair, “What was the fight about?”

Pam tells her about Roy waiting for her at her house yesterday and then Singer’s growling escapade last night.

“He left a note to apologize?”

“No, he apologized at the house, after I got home from work. He left a note on my Jeep last night, which is Singer why was growling. He’s going to be out of town for a few days and wanted to let me know.”

Jo wanted to ask more, specifically about how his apology went, but she could tell by the look on Pam’s face that she didn’t want to talk about it. She puts the box of treats back into her desk and looks over at Singer’s blanket in the corner. “Feels kind of empty without him here, like we’re missing a couch or something.”

She chuckles, “He’ll be back soon, you know how he is.”

To both of their surprise, eight hours later, Singer still hadn’t come back.

***

“I tried bringing him over a couple of times,” Jim said, looking about as perplexed as Pam felt. “But any time I went out the door, he stopped. I even tried bribing him with some beef jerky, but nothing worked. I thought about dragging him but I’m pretty sure he’s stronger than I am.”

Pam looks at Singer who is sitting next to Jim, head tilted to the side as he looks up at her. “Are you really still mad at me, Singer? Is that what all of this is about?”

“Why would he be mad at you?”

“We had a fight.”

“Oh.”

She looks back down at Singer, “Well, come on. Are you just going to sit there all day or are you going to come home?”

Singer licked his lips but didn’t move.

“Singer, come.”

He stayed beside Jim.

“Heel.”

Jim chuckled, knowing Pam had never used that command before; she must not know what else to say to get Singer to listen. He looks down at the stubborn dog and waves his hand toward her, “Go on, before you get into even more trouble.”

With that, Singer stands and, reluctantly, goes over to Pam. She raises an eyebrow at him, “So, you’re only listening to Jim now?”

“Hey, don’t blame me.” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m not blaming you. I just,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Singer looks up at her, What?

She shakes her head and looks back at Jim, “So, what did he do here all day?”

“Snored, loudly. Stole my ham sandwich when I got up to get a drink, went around back to do his business. Just kind of hung out.”

“Did he seem strange to you?”

“Nope. Besides not wanting to leave, he seemed fine. Normal Singer.”

“He didn’t seem angry?”

Jim runs a hand through his hair and glances down at Singer. He wanted to smile, but he knew how seriously Pam viewed this. “He didn’t say anything to me, but I was kind of busy today. Want me to ask Danny? Maybe they talked while I was out.”

Her eyes narrow a little, “Are you making fun of me, Halpert?”

“No, never. You know I’d never do something like that.”

“Good. After almost losing my dog to someone else, I’m not really in the jokey mood.”

“You didn’t lose him, he was with me.”

“And now he likes you better than me.”

Jim shrugs, “Maybe he just misses me. I am quite addictive, you know.”

For the first time since arriving at the garage, Pam smiles, “You are, huh?”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“It must be so hard being you.”

He quickly glances her over, her pale pink cardigan wrapped tightly around her, her white keds a deep contrast to the tan skin she had achieved over the summer, her hair starting to fall out of her ponytail. She always complained about being plain, but he never saw her that way. Even in her work clothes, she looked beautiful.

He shakes his head, “You have no idea.”

***

An hour later, Pam is standing over her sink, three towels over the now broken faucet, trying to stop the fountain that has decided to take residence in her kitchen. She grabs another towel off of the counter and adds it to the pile, tightening her grip. She manages to get the water to stop spraying upwards, but what is still spraying out turns towards her instead. She lifts her chin, trying to keep the water from hitting her face. She yells at Singer in the other room, “Can you please get my phone for me??”

A moment later, Singer comes trotting into the kitchen. She uses her free hand to take her cell out of his mouth, wiping it off on her pants before pressing the first number on her speed dial.

***

Jim had been sitting in his recliner, a bag of Cheetos in one hand, the remote in the other, and a beer wedges between his legs. He had already finished the Big Mac he picked up on his way home, so this was the remains of his dinner. Although the TV was on, he wasn’t actually paying attention to it. Instead, he was daydreaming of playing at the Staples center, tickets sold out, everyone cheering his name.

His hand slipped into the bag of Cheetos, the adoration from all of his fans washing over him.

The phone beside him suddenly blaring startles him, causing him to jolt up, Cheetos flying across the room and beer spilling in his lap. As if it would do anything, he tried to wipe the beer off, but just ended up with orange Cheeto dust all over his crotch.

“Crap,” he muttered before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jim,” Pam said, and he knew she was stressed about something just by the tone of her voice. “Are you busy?”

He shifted in his seat, hoping to get more comfortable as the beer continues to soak through his jeans. He grimaces as the beer instead worked its way to the seat of his pants. “Not really.”

“You sound distracted.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing. Just had a little accident with dinner.”

“What?”

“Nothing. What’s up?”

She sighed a little, “I need you.”

“You do?” His ego inflated, he almost forgot about his practically ruined jeans and the Cheetos now covering his living room.

“My faucet exploded.”

“Oh.” And, just like that, his ego once again deflated to its normal size. “How did that happen?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I mean, did you pull on it or something?”

“No, I just turned it on and now there’s a geyser in my house.”

He chuckles, “Was it loose before?”

“I really don’t know. Can you come over or not?”

He looks down at his lap, “Um, I’m going to have to change my pants first.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’ll be there in a bit, I have to swing by the hardware store to buy you a new faucet.”

“You won’t be long, will you? My hand is starting to go numb from holding onto these rags, and I really have to pee. If I cross my legs any harder, my knees are going to snap.”

“I’m on my way.”

He hangs up and rushes to get dressed. In his haste to get changed and out the door, coupled with the prospect of seeing Pam, he had only fallen once while trying to pull on some new jeans.

It seemed pretty reasonable to him considering the circumstances.

***

Jim opens Pam’s front door, calling out her name as he steps inside.

“In here! Something just happened, though. It stopped leaking. Maybe I ran out of water.”

He chuckled as he made his way to the kitchen, “I just shut off the water with the valve up front. You can let it go now, it should be fine.”

Jim turned the corner and was met with a soaking wet Pam. She had changed into some shorts and a T-shirt that is supposed to be big on her but is now clinging to every curve now that it’s wet. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve guessed that she had just gotten targeted by some rowdy teenagers on Spring Break whose high points in life consisted in getting wasted and constantly hitting on girls.

She turned back towards the sink, “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Seriously.” She shook the excess water from her hands before starting to unwrap the towels from the sink.

Jim barely heard her as he bent down, opening up his toolbox. He was determined not to stare. Gentlemen don’t stare. Best friends don’t stare. Singer sat beside him as he started to dig around and mumbled, “No problem.”

She started to wring out the rags one at a time, “I mean it. I hope I didn’t pull you away from something important.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She turns and looks at him, leaning back against the counter as she pulls her T-shirt away from her. “Are you okay?”

He kept his focus on finding the wrench he needed, not on how her shirt falls right back to how it was once she lets go. “I’m fine, why?”

“You just seem kind of upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You won’t even look at me.”

“I’m not staring.”

“That’s what I just said.”

He glances up at her, “Oh.”

“Jim?”

He stands up, “Here it is!” He holds out the basin wrench, as if having to prove that he did find the tool. Mostly, he was just grateful for the change in subject. “I was hoping I put it in there, I was starting to worry that I didn’t.”

Pam just looks at him, puzzled. She’s quiet for a moment before pushing off the counter, “I think I’m going to go change.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” Jim muttered once she was out of the room.

***

After changing into some leggings and a light sweatshirt, Pam made her way back to the kitchen. She sees that Jim must have went into her linen closet for some towels that are now spread across her kitchen floor. Despite them, his knees still have wet marks from where he had to kneel. She smiles when she sees Singer sticking his head under the sink to join Jim, whose torso and legs are the only readily visible to where she was standing.

“Would you stop panting?”

Singer ignored Jim’s complaint, his tail wagging.

“Seriously, dog, your breath stinks.” He sighed and then tried to scoot over but Singer was there. “And can you give me some room, please? You’re in my way.”

Pam watched as he tried to push Singer over, but to no avail. She chuckled, “How’s it going under there?”

She couldn’t help but laugh when he sits up too fast, hitting his head on the bottom of the sink. He pokes his head out from the cabinet, rubbing his forehead. “Good, I’m almost done.”

“Already?”

“It wasn’t too hard. Just gotta remove a couple nuts and it pops right off. Uh, I didn’t know what kind of faucet you would want, so I just got one that looked like your old one. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I can go back and get something new if you want, really, it’s no big deal.”

“Jim. Seriously, as long as it works, it’s perfect.”

He nods before sliding back under the sink. She hears a plink as something falls.

“Got it.”

He gets back out, standing up to take out the old faucet before handing it to her. She notices that he seems more relaxed now than he had been when he first saw her. He turns and put the new faucet into place before sliding back underneath.

“You really destroyed that thing, by the way. What did you use to turn it on? A hammer?”

“Dynamite.”

“That’ll do it. Maybe use a little less next time.”

She smiles and leans against the doorway. She watches him work for a moment, notices the veins in his arm popping out a bit as he cranks the wrench. She knew he was stronger than most people gave him credit for, his work coveralls not doing his lanky frame any favors, but she had never realized just how fit he truly was. She shakes her head, “So, do you know what happened?”

“Probably just old. I think that’s the only thing in this house that I haven’t fixed, though I should have looked at it the last time I came to fix your disposal.”

“So, you’re saying this is your fault?”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, then sure.”

She giggles and he comes back out, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Give me a sec to turn the water back on, and I’ll make sure everything is working.”

“You got it.”

She watches Singer follow Jim out the front door, only to reappear a minute later. They smile at each other as he walks past her to the sink. He turns on the faucet, double checking that there are no leaks before turning it back off and looking at her, “Looks like you’re good to go, Beesly.”

“I still think you made that look too easy. Before I called, I was wondering which plumber I was going to have to call if you couldn’t come over.”

He feigned shock, resting his hand over his heart, “After all this time, I’m offended that you would even think such a thing.”

Pam laughs as Jim squats down to start putting the things back in the cabinet that he had taken out earlier. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she walks over to him, kneeling down beside him. “I can do something.”

She helps him put everything away, and she felt his arm brush against hers more than once. She wondered why she had noticed at all, it wasn’t like never touched each other. But she was suddenly hyperaware anytime their skin touched, so she turns to gather up the wet towels on the floor instead.

After putting them in the laundry room, she walks towards the fridge. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a beer now. You want one?”

“I’d love one.”

She hands him a bottle and gestures towards the door, “Come on, let’s go sit on the porch. It’s way too nice to sit inside.”

They make their way to the front door, her hand on the handle before she looks back at him, “Oh, did you say you already ate? When I called earlier, you said you had an accident with dinner?”

“Why?”

“With everything going on, I forgot to eat. You up for sharing a pizza?”

Jim smiles, “Definitely. That sounds great.”

She calls over her shoulder as she heads back for the phone, “Sausage and peppers okay?”

“Whatever you want is fine with me.”

***

A few minutes later, they sat on the front porch, Singer laying at Pam’s feet. Jim looks over Pam’s yard, looks at the trees that surround it, hiding most of the outside world from view. Her neighbors’ houses are just barely visible between the trees, Pam had told him more than once that she comes out here when she feels like she needs to get away. He agrees, the quiet porch being only visible to the cicadas in the branches above them and the mosquitos flying around makes it the perfect hideaway. He looks over at Pam and watches the moonlight cast a faint glow across her face and he wonders if tonight will somehow break his heart.

He finishes his beer before turning to her again, “You know, this reminds me of the night we met. Do you remember that? When Jo had us all over at her place so we could meet you?”

She laughs, “How could I forget? That was one of the most terrifying nights of my life.”

“Really? Even with Mark there?”

“Especially with Mark there. I didn’t stop shaking until I finally passed out in my room afterwards.”

“Why? We’re nice people.”

She points at him, “But I didn’t know that. I knew Mark liked you guys, obviously, and Jo had assured me that I would be fine, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t even speak to Mark that night.”

“You didn’t. He told me about it the next day.”

“He did?”

Jim shrugs, “He warned us, though. That you would be kind of quiet, I think he used the word timid.”

“He did not call me timid.”

He smiles, “That was after he called you mousy.”

“Okay,” she laughs, finishing off her beer as well, “I’ve been called a lot of things, but mousy was never one of them.”

Since she wasn’t looking at him, he took the opportunity to look her over for the second time that day. She had her legs pulled up under her, her leggings and sweatshirt hugging her in ways that he really shouldn’t notice but does anyway. He hadn’t agreed with Mark’s mousy comment after first meeting Pam, and he still doesn’t.

He looks back out at the yard, “Yeah, well, I think he was just trying to keep our expectations low. Wanted to make sure we all liked you, not that he needed any excuse. If Mark and Jo liked you, then we were all positive we would, too.”

She smiles over at him before looking down at Singer. He couldn’t quite read her expression, she looked almost forlorn, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. She’s quiet for a moment, petting singer’s back with her bare foot, then looks back up. “Sometimes it’s still hard for me to believe I’m here.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, “Just the way things worked out. I mean, I had never even heard of Scranton before I met Mark, and now almost eleven years later, I’m still here.”

His eyebrows furrow a little, “It sounds like you want to leave.”

“Oh, no, not at all, actually. I thought about it, after Mark died. Thought about starting over somewhere new, but I never got around to it. Besides,” she chuckles, “where would I even go? It’s not like I wanted to live near my mom again.”

“Have you talked to her recently?”

“Not for a few months. She called around Christmas, saying she wanted to come up and visit, but I’m pretty sure she was just hoping I’d send her some money. I didn’t, so she hasn’t called since.”

“That has to be hard.”

She nods, though he thinks she’s not entirely convinced. “It is. Sometimes. But I don’t really think about it much anymore. When Mark and I first started going out, I wanted to reach out to her. Wanted to tell her that I was okay, I made it through. As disappointing as she was as a mother, I still felt like I needed her approval. Now that I look back, it’s kind of strange how much I cared about that, but it was important to me.”

“But not anymore?”

“Not so much. She didn’t show up for the wedding, then she didn’t show up for the funeral. That kind of showed me that it wasn’t worth the effort. I’m still polite when she calls, but there’s no feeling there. I might as well be talking to a stranger.”

Jim considered his next words as he looked up at the sky, watching bats fly in and out of view. “Danny drives me nuts half the time, Karen only encourages him, and my parents are just as crazy. But… I don’t know what I’d do without them. I know I can go to them for support when I need to. I don’t think I’d be able to make it out on my own like you did.”

She smiles sympathetically at him, as if he’s the one that needs cheering up. “You’d make it. Besides, I’m not completely alone. I’ve got Singer here,” she nudges the dog with her foot as she says his name and he leans over to lick her leg once before going back to sleep, “And I’ve got my friends. Danny, Karen, Jo, you.” She smiles at him and for the first time since they stepped out onto the porch, he could tell it was truly genuine. “I don’t need anyone else.”

He wanted to ask if that included Roy, but he didn’t want to ruin the night. He was finally talking to Pam again, the same way he had before Roy came to town, and he wasn’t going to risk bringing down the mood.

He doesn’t get the chance to, anyway, when she asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Whatever happened to Katy? I thought you guys were getting kind of serious, but then she just… wasn’t around anymore.”

He shifts in his seat, “Oh, you know…”

“No, not really. You never told me why it ended.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

She rolls her eyes, “That’s what you always say. But what’s the real story?”

He stayed quiet for a moment, trying to decide if he should tell her. He didn’t want the pitied looks or consoling comments, though. “You don’t want to know.”

“What’d she do? Cheat on you?”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to pick off the label of his beer bottle instead. It takes a moment, but he hears her sigh and reach over to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Jim, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. Well, I was, anyway.” He shrugs, trying to focus on their conversation and not the fact that she still had her hand on his arm. “It was some guy from work. I drove by one morning on the way to the shop, and his car was in her driveway.”

“What did you do?”

“You mean did I get angry? Of course. But to be honest, it didn’t last long. I wasn’t really the best boyfriend towards the end. I guess she felt neglected, and I don’t blame her. I think I knew it wouldn’t last, so I kind of stopped trying. I guess something was bound to happen.”

“Still sucks.”

He laughs a little, “Yeah. Still sucks.”

She moves her hand to point to his empty bottle, “You need another one?”

“Probably.”

“On it.”

He watched as she stood up, stepping over Singer before going into the house. He couldn’t help but notice how well her leggings fit her, how nice she looked tonight. He shakes his head, clearing those thoughts. He wasn’t going to ruin tonight. They were having pizza and beer, not lobster and wine. It was just a casual night, just like it used to be, before he made the mistake of falling in love with her.

He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened. He had liked her from the moment they met, but as nothing more than friends until long after Mark had passed. He wished he could pinpoint the exact moment, some time when he looked at her and just knew, but it wasn’t like that. It was gradual, like a sunrise, growing warmer and brighter as the minutes passed, and the next thing he knew it was morning and everything felt brand new.

He looks over when the door opens again and she hands him his bottle, opening hers as she sits down. She takes a small sip before saying, “Mark used to say that, too, you know.”

“What?”

“’Probably.’ Whenever I would ask if he wanted another beer, he would always say that. Did he get that from you?”

“Probably.”

She laughs and he grins, taking a swig of his beer.

“Do you still think about him?”

Jim nodded, “All the time.”

“I do, too.”

“I’m sure. He was a good guy – a great guy. You couldn’t have done better than Mark. He used to tell me that he couldn’t do any better than you, either.”

She leaned back in her seat, he noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “You’re a good guy, too.”

“Yeah, me and a million others. I’m not like Mark was.”

“Sure you are. You guys were so much alike. Both grew up in Scranton, had the same friends, liked to do the same things. Sometimes I forgot that you and Danny were the brothers and not you and Mark. Of course, Mark couldn’t have fixed the faucet; he couldn’t fix anything.”

“Danny couldn’t have fixed it either.”

“Really?”

“No, he probably could have. But he wouldn’t have wanted to. He hates getting his hands dirty.”

“That’s kind of ironic since you two own a garage.”

Jim laughs, “You’re telling me. But it’s okay, because I hate all the paperwork, so if he wants to spend his days filling out forms and printing out receipts, I’m fine with that. Plus, he’s the one that has to tell people ‘no’, I’m not very good at that.”

She giggles, and he knows he would do anything to keep her laughing, “Gee, really?”

***

The pizza arrives a few minutes later, a pimply teenager with thick glasses looks at the ticket for longer than he probably needed to before announcing their total. Jim reached for his wallet, but Pam nudged him out of the way, pocketbook in hand.

“Not a chance. This one’s on me.”

“But I’ll eat more.”

“You can eat the whole thing if you want, I’m still paying.”

He holds his hands up and takes a step back while she hands the pizza boy a couple bills and tells him to keep the change. She turns and walks past him towards the house, “Paper plates okay?”

“I only eat off of paper plates.”

She looks over her shoulder, “I know, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for you.”

After getting some plates and napkins, they go back out to the porch to enjoy their dinner. They talk about Mark a little more before switching topics to what’s been going on around town. How Dwight insisted that the batman logo was still off centered, but it would have to do. How Kelly called off, again, today, making both of them share their theories on why.

As the night went on, Pam found herself holding Jim’s gaze for just a little longer than usual. There was no reason, really, on why she was doing it. It wasn’t like he had said anything out of the ordinary since coming over. It wasn’t even that they were sitting alone on the porch, sharing pizza and stories as if this had been planned beforehand.

No, there was no reason on why she should feel differently tonight, and yet she did. But, as she watched Jim toss another crust to Singer without a break in conversation, she wasn’t sure she wanted the feeling to stop. His feet resting on the porch railing, his hair a little messed up, as always, and he just looked so comfortable here. Like he belonged. She realized how different spending time with Jim was compared to her dates with Roy. Spending weekends with Roy was fun, exciting, extravagant, but being with Jim was… normal, easy. They weren’t trying to impress each other or make sure they said the right things. It was just Jim and Pam, and she almost forgotten how much she enjoyed that.

It was what she liked most about being married to Mark. The whirl of emotions when they made love or when he would surprise her at work was always welcomed, but her favorite times were during the quiet moments. When he would bring her a cup of tea and they would read the newspaper together in bed on Sunday mornings, or when they debated on whether cherry or maple furniture would suit the house better, or when she would be inside dusting shelves and would hear Mark in the backyard, mowing the lawn. Those were the moments she felt safe, when she finally let herself believe in the impossible.

With those things in mind, Pam watched as Jim struggled with another piece of pizza. The long strands of cheese ran from his mouth to the slice and she couldn’t help her small smile. He would laugh at himself after most bites, making jokes at his own expense, not caring if he made a fool of himself or that she was there to witness it. The warm feeling she got as she watched him reminded her of the older couples her and Mark would pass by in the park, sitting on benches, some feeding birds, some just enjoying each other’s company. The warm feeling stayed with her as she followed him into the kitchen a few minutes later, watching as he grabs the plastic wrap from her drawer, not having to ask her where it is. And again when he took it upon himself to empty the garbage after noticing it was full. As he tied the bag closed, she imagined for a moment, just a moment, that this wasn’t happening right now. It was happening sometime in the future, just another ordinary evening in a long procession of evenings together.

“Well,” Jim’s voice brought her back and she looked up at him, “I think that’s about everything.”

She could feel her cheeks starting to burn a little and she was grateful that he wasn’t looking at her.

“Looks that way,” she agreed. “Thanks again for everything. The faucet, hanging out.”

“Thanks for calling me about it. Believe it or not, I’m glad you did. I had a great time tonight.”

“Me too.”

Neither spoke for a moment, and Pam could feel herself starting to retreat back into herself, suddenly very aware of all of her thoughts tonight. The mantra she has repeated for years started in her head, a relationship with Jim? No way. Not a chance.

Jim brought his hands together, interrupting her thoughts from going any further. “I should probably get going, I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Right. Yeah, me too. I didn’t get much sleep last night, either, Singer kept me up.”

“What was he doing?”

“Whining, growling, barking, doing whatever he could to make sure my headache stayed and I wouldn’t sleep.”

“That’s weird. He doesn’t normally do that, right? What’s going on?”

“Oh, it was nothing. Roy had just stopped by last night, you know how Singer is.”

It was the first time Roy had been mentioned all evening, and Pam noticed the discomfort on Jim’s face, even though he tried to mask it.

“Roy was here last night?”

“Oh, no, not like that. We didn’t go out or anything, he just dropped off a note to let me know something came up and he would be out of town for a few days.”

“Oh.”

“It was nothing, really.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the sudden need to clarify, but she did.

“So, what time was this at?”

She glances up at the clock above the stove, “Um… around two, I think. Well, that’s when Singer started anyway, But, like I said, it went on for a while. Why?”

He shrugs, “I guess I was just wondering why he didn’t wait to drop it off until the morning.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he left right away.”

Jim nodded, looking like he was debating on whether or not to say anything else. He seemed to decide to drop it, grabbing his toolbox and taking a small step towards the door. “Listen…”

“You’ve gotta go, I know.” She looks at him, “Thanks again.”

He smiles and neither can seem to look away from each other for a moment, until Jim finally nods towards the door. She follows him down the hall, her eyes trailing down his back as he walks in front of her. She was just thinking how well his jeans fit him when she hears the doorknob turn and her eyes jerk back up.

If it were any other person, any other situation, she would laugh at how absurd she is being tonight. But, strangely, she couldn’t find it in herself to do so.

She stands in the doorway after saying goodbye, watching as he heads to his car. He puts his toolbox into the back seat before sliding into the driver’s side, the light above him shining down like a halo. He grins at her and waves. She waves back, then he’s backing out, his taillights slowly fading into the distance.

She stands on the porch for another couple of minutes, trying to figure out what was going on with her tonight. It was just Jim, her best friend, her game partner, her shoulder to cry on. Just Jim. She wasn’t even sure why she was entertaining the thoughts. There was no way she could go out with him. Yes, he was nice, and funny, and cute. But Jim? She couldn’t.

The whole thing, she suddenly decided, was preposterous. A bunch of nonsense.

Wasn’t it?

Danny sets his coffee down on his desk before collapsing into his chair. “So that’s it?”

Jim leans up against the doorframe, “That’s it.”

“You just left? Nothing happened?”

“Yup.”

Danny wanted nothing more than to harp on his little brother for not using this opportunity to finally ask Pam out, but it wasn’t time for that. Instead, he leans back in his chair and takes a slow sip of coffee before turning back to Jim.

“So, let me get this straight. Philbin tells you a bunch of cryptic stuff about Roy that may or may not mean anything but definitely is pretty weird sounding, especially when he wouldn’t tell you anything more when you asked. Then you find out that Roy is hanging around Pam’s in the middle of the night for God knows how long and you thought it was a good idea to not say anything to Pam.”

“She was the one who told me that Roy stopped by, it’s not like she doesn’t know he was there.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.”

Jim sighs, “Nothing happened, Danny.”

“You still should have said something.”

“How?”

Danny rolls his eyes, “The same way I just did. Just tell her what you’re thinking. Easy.”

“Easy for you. She’s just going to think I’m jealous and I’m making things up because of how I feel for her.”

Danny leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk and forming a triangle with his fingers under his chin. His eyes narrow just a touch and he watches Jim’s eyebrow raise up at him, but he shakes his head a little; he’s being serious. “Jim, look. You’re her friend. You always have been, and you probably always will be, no matter how you two feel about each other. I’m her friend, too, and I don’t like the thought of this guy hanging around her house in the middle of the night, no matter what his excuse may be. He could have stopped by in the morning, he could have called her, he could have left a message at her work. What kind of guy gets up at two A.M., gets fully dressed, and then drives across town to leave a note? And didn’t you say that Singer kept her up for hours? What if Roy was out there the whole time he was acting up? What if Darryl was trying to warn you about him somehow? Didn’t you think of any of this?”

Jim crosses his arms over his chest, “Of course I did. I don’t like any of it either.”

“Then you should have said something.”

Danny watches Jim run a hand through his hair and then down his face. After a moment Jim looks back over at him. “You weren’t there, Danny. And besides, she didn’t seem concerned about it at all. She was just annoyed that Singer kept her up. You’re making this into something bigger than it actually is. All he did was leave a note.”

“How do you know that’s all he did?” Jim opens his mouth to respond but Danny stops him, holding a hand up. “Listen. I’m usually more than willing to let you screw up and make mistakes, okay? But this isn’t just about you right now. Like I said, Pam is my friend too. This isn’t the time to start keeping secrets from her, especially about this kind of stuff. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Roy is just an awkward guy who doesn’t know good timing for things like this. But… maybe it’s something else and I think Pam deserves to know. Does that make sense?”

He watches Jim’s eyebrows furrow in thought before his chin drops to his chest. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

***

“Sounds like you two had a good night.”

Pam nods. Organizing her desk, she slips the pens she just tested back into their cup. “We did. He’s always a lot of fun, you know that.”

Jo swivels back and forth in her chair. The studio was empty, no sessions were scheduled for another twenty minutes and Kelly left for lunch, so it was just Jo and Pam. “And your faucet is fixed?”

She stuffs some doodles into a folder before putting it in a drawer, “He put a new one in.”

“Did he make it look easy? Like you wondered why you even had to call him in the first place?”

Extra notebooks in the bottom drawer, extra brushes in the top. “Yup.”

“Don’t you hate that?”

Pam giggles while compiling the pastels that need to go into the back, “Every single time.”

Jo laughs, leaning back in her chair, “He really is something, isn’t he?”

She pauses and looks over at the picture of her, Jim, Karen, and Danny that she’s had on her desk since Jo took the picture three years ago. She knows that Jo’s question doesn’t need a response, but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking the same thing since Jim left her house last night. She wasn’t sure why Jim was suddenly always on her mind, the last person she thought about as she fell asleep last night and the first person she thought of as Singer licked her awake this morning. At first, she thought maybe it was just because she really did have a fun night. It had been a while since her and Jim hung out alone. They used to all the time, pizza on the porch wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But there was something about the moonlight streaming through the windows while he emptied her garbage and the sound of moths hitting the porch light as she waved him off. Something was different, she just didn’t know what.

She was brought back by Singer’s whine at the door, asking to be let out. Pam shakes her head and stands up to open the door for him. As she stands in the doorway, she watches Singer go to the garage, can see Jim under the hood of what seems to be the Scotts’ car. She waits until Singer is safely across the street and walking through the garage door before she finally answers Jo, “Yeah. He really is something.”

***

The sun was on the verge of setting when Pam was finally able to make her way over to the garage. She walks in to see Jim leaning up against the wall, Singer sitting beside him, neither looking her way.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that this was all some sort of plan to make sure I came over here.”

Jim looks up at her, grinning, and she can’t help her heart from fluttering just a little. She shakes her head, wondering if she had always reacted that way when he smiles at her like this. 

He shrugs, “Maybe he’s trying to tell you something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he hasn’t been getting enough attention.”

Pam laughs, “He’s spoiled rotten, don’t let him fool you. He couldn’t get more attention if he tried.”

“Maybe he just misses his best friend, then.” Jim scratches behind Singer’s ear before starting to undo the zipper on his coveralls. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. This thing has been bugging me all day and I got some transmission fluid on it a couple hours ago, so I’ve been just breathing in the fumes.”

“Getting buzzed while on the clock, huh?”

He chuckles, “No, just a headache. I’m not that lucky, Pam.”

She watches as he slips the sleeves over his arms and then uses Singer for balance as he steps out of his uniform. He balls them up and tosses them behind her into the corner and she notices that he looks younger than he is in his jeans and black t-shirt.

“Any plans for tonight?”

“Just the usual. Saving the world, feeding the hungry, fighting for world peace.”

She smiles, “It’s amazing how much someone can do if they put their mind to it.”

“So true.” He gives her another grin, more boyish this time, and this isn’t helping her figure out her feelings right now. “What about you? Anything exciting going on?”

“Unless you think cleaning and paying bills exciting, then nope, nothing. See, unlike you, I need to fix the little things before I can focus on perfecting the universe.”

“It is hard being me, you know.”

She laughs and he smiles for a second before his face drops as he looks past her. Her eyebrows knit together and she’s about to turn to see what he’s looking at when he runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat.

“Hey, um, since you aren’t busy. Can I talk to you for a few minutes? There was just something I needed to tell you.”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

He glances past her again before meeting her eyes, “Would you mind if we went somewhere else? I think I’m gonna need a beer first.”

She glances behind her only to find Danny sorting through paperwork near his door. She’s confused about what Danny may have to do with this and why Jim is suddenly serious, but she would also be lying if she said she wasn’t a little excited to be able to hang out with him for the second night in a row.

“A beer sounds great.”

***

Bratton’s was just a few stores down. Sandwiched between a laundromat and a butcher shoppe, it was about as good as it sounds. But the beer was cheap, the patrons were nice (if not a little weird), and the owner, Creed, let practically anything slide. Pam doesn't come here often, but the few times she has, she’s seen people bring in samurai swords, inflatable dates, full game systems to hook up to one of the TVs. Really, anything that was apparently considered essential for a night spent drinking.

For Pam, the only upside to Creed not caring who or what comes through that front door was that Singer could join her any time she did end up here, which is why he is now snoring at her feet as she sits across from Jim in a sticky booth. Creed gives them their beers and she takes a sip, thankful that it’s actually cold this time. She waits until Creed has walked away before turning to Jim, “This place is such a dive. I always feel like I’m going to catch something if I stay too long.”

“But, Pam, it has character.”

She rolls her eyes at the line Creed always uses when someone tries to complain. You don’t come here for fancy cocktails or that crappy modern music, he always says, you come here for the cheap booze and fun times. You come for the character. “Yeah, okay. So, what was so important you’re risking some sort of infection to tell me?”

“You’re so dramatic.” He goes from a teasing smile to looking down at the table, running a hand through his hair before tracing the grooves of the table with his fingers. “But, uh, it was something that Danny said I should do.”

"Danny?" 

“Yeah,” he glances up at her before looking back down, “He thought I should have said something to you yesterday. About Roy.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Danny wanted you to talk to me about Roy?”

“About how he dropped off that note the other night.”

“What about it?”

“Danny thought it was a little weird how he did it. Like, driving to your house in the middle of the night.”

“So, Danny was worried about me?”

“Yeah, Danny.”

“Mmm… but not you.”

His face scrunches for a second, “No.”

Pam smiles and then leans back in the booth. “Why was Danny so worried about it? It’s not like Roy was peeking through the windows, Singer would have gone through the glass if he was. I’m pretty sure Roy didn’t even come up to the house, since the note was on my car. And besides, he said it was an emergency, he may have had to leave right away.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that.” He takes a sip of his beer before looking at her, “Someone Roy works with came in the other day and said something kind of weird.”

“Like what?”

“I mean,” he shrugs, “not a lot, honestly. But that was what was so weird about it. I had mentioned meeting Roy and asked if he liked the guy, and he just said to stay away from him. I tried to get him to elaborate, but he wouldn’t. Just got in his truck and left. And then Roy was at your house in the middle of the night, and we- I mean… Danny. He just thought it was a little concerning.”

Pam couldn’t help but smile after Jim had finished telling her everything. She reached across the table and rested a hand on top of Jim’s, “That is so sweet of Danny to worry about me like that.”

Her smile only grew as Jim was seemingly trying to process her response. “Wait… you’re not mad?”

“Of course not. I’m glad I’ve got friends like him who are watching out for me.”

“But…”

“But what?” Pam gently laughed as Jim tried to stammer out a response. She squeezed his hand once before leaning back in her seat again, “C’mon, admit it. You were worried too, it wasn’t just Danny, was it?”

Jim sighs, “No.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

Her eyebrows furrow a little, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, you know…” he sighs again and runs a hand through his hair, “it’s just… you’re dating the guy. I didn’t want you to think… if it was just me saying it, I wasn’t sure…”

“You didn’t want me to think you were just saying it so I’d stop seeing him?”

“Yeah.”

She studied him as he took another swig of beer. When he looked back over at her, she smiled, but her heart felt heavy. “Do you really think that little of me? Or of our friendship?” When he doesn’t answer, she sighs and continues, “Jim, you’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone. I don’t think you could ever say anything to me that would lead me to believe you’re just doing it to hurt me. Why do you think I’ve kept you around this whole time? Certainly not because of your cooking skills.” She smiles after she managed to get a chuckle out of him, “You’re a good guy. A nice guy.”

He scoffs and looks down, tracing the lines on the table again. “Yeah, well… nice guys finish last. Isn’t that what people say?”

She sits up and grabs his hand again, but this time she doesn’t let go. She runs her thumb over his knuckles until he looks at her. “I don’t, though.”

He looks at their hands and then back up at her, “What about Roy?”

“What about him?”

“You two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

She smirks and leans forward, “James Halpert, are you jealous?”

He scoffs but doesn’t answer her question.

“Don’t be jealous. We went on a few dates and had a few laughs. It was fun, but it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like I was planning on marrying the guy.”

“You weren’t?”

Pam snorted, “You’re joking, right?” She pauses and watches as Jim swallowed and her face drops a little, “You’re not joking. Did you think I loved him?”

He shrugs, “I had no idea.”

She gives him a small smile, “I don’t. He’s a great guy, but I’m not even sure I would go out with him again. And don’t let your ego inflate too much, it’s not just because of what you just told me. Last weekend was great, I had a lot of fun. But do you remember when you were dating Brenda, and you liked her, but you didn’t like her? And how I told you what my mom told me, how sometimes they just don’t rock your boat? I was thinking about that on Sunday, and I realized it was the same thing for me and Roy. It’s just… not there. And then on Monday he was a little off, and I tried to brush it off, but I couldn’t. I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“Really?”

She nods, “Really.”

She laughs a little when he grins for a second before trying to hide it behind his beer. Creed walks up and asks if they want any refills and after declining, they watch him go change the TV from ESPN to some channel with a Spanish soap opera. Jim turns back to Pam and rolls his eyes before saying, “So, you going to see good ol’ Toby again?”

“God, I hope not.”

“He’s better than that Alan guy.”

“If Alan is where my expectations should be, then I have some pretty low standards.”

He chuckles and offers a small shrug, “Well, I’m sure someone else will come along.”

Pam holds his gaze as she rests her cheek in her free hand, slightly squeezing his hand with the one that was still holding onto it. “Maybe.”

“C’mon, you’re a catch. There must be at least a dozen guys just waiting to ask you out.”

“Maybe,” she repeats. “But… I only need one.”

“It won’t take long. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried. Now that I’ve been out a few times, I think I know what I want. A good guy. A nice guy.”

Jim nods, “You definitely deserve one.”

As much as she loved the guy, Pam can’t help but think that Jim could be as dense as a brick at times. She bit her bottom lip before trying out a different approach.

“How about you? You ever going to find someone special?”

“Who knows. No luck so far.”

“Mm… you will. You just have to look for them, sometimes they’re closer than it seems.”

He gently removes his hand from under hers, using it to tug on the front of his t-shirt a few times. She could see his face growing redder and the way he looked at her made her think he was finally going to ask her out. Her deep inhale only turned into a slow sigh, though, when he says, “I hope you’re right.”

I guess this is going to be up to me, she thinks as she nudges him under the table with her foot, making sure she has his full attention. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Oh, um, nothing. Haven’t thought about it.”

“I was thinking we might go out.”

She tries not to giggle when his eyes grow wide, “Go out?”

“Yeah. There’s this new place right next to the river that is supposed to be pretty good, and it leads right to a trail we could walk on afterwards, if you want.”

“Should I find out if Danny and Karen want to come?”

She tilts her head to the side a bit, “What if it’s just the two of us?”

“You and me?”

“Sure, I mean… unless you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to.” She smiles as he shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “I mean, yeah. I think I’ll be able to work that out.”

Pam laughed, “Gee, thanks. I appreciate that.”

***

“So, you asked her out?”

Danny was surprised that Jim was already at the garage when he arrived this morning. Although they both had a set of keys, Danny was usually the one to arrive first and get everything started for the day. Jim was rarely late, but he tended to just show up when he needed to, never early. But the lights were on and the coffee was made, so Danny knew something was up as soon as he pulled in. Jim greeted him at the front door and Danny, knowing from the look on Jim’s face that he was just dying to tell him something, took his time getting settled. Folded his coat perfectly before setting it on his shelf, made sure his coffee had just the right amount of creamer, remade his coffee when he added too much creamer. He also made sure to stop Jim anytime he tried to talk, saying he has a certain routine (he doesn’t) and if he doesn’t follow it, the garage will go down in flames (it won’t). It’s not until he’s at his desk and Jim looks like he’s about to explode that Danny finally lets him spill the news.

Jim is now leaning back against the wall, ankles crossed, hands in his pockets, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal, “Yup.”

“And you’re sure it’s a date?”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely a date.”

Danny nodded, “So, how’d you do it? You went out for drinks and…”

“It was real casual, just worked it into the conversation. And then when the moment hit, I asked her.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Mhm.” He knew his brother well enough to know that he was lying somehow, but Danny couldn’t quite figure out how. After all, it did sound like they were going to go on a real date. “What about Roy?”

Jim’s smile is a little smug, “I think that’s pretty much over now.”

“Did Pam say that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Danny studied him for a moment, trying to figure out what it was that was fishy about all of this. She is seemingly over Roy, they’re going to go to a nice restaurant, she said she just wanted it to be the two of them. Maybe it was just the fact that his brother finally got the balls to ask her out that was throwing him off.

“Well, I’m proud of you, little bro. It’s about time you two got your acts together.”

“Thanks.”

He pauses to see if Jim will say anything else, but when he doesn’t, Danny tells him to get to work. He waits until Jim closes his office door behind him before picking up his phone and calling Karen.

“Hey, babe.”

“You’re never going to believe what I just heard.”

“What?”

Danny filled her in on everything Jim had told him, listening to her hum appropriately in response while getting the kids ready for school. When he was done, she laughed a little and said, “Well, it’s about time.”

“I know, I said the same thing. But, listen, can you get Pam’s side of the story?”

Karen responds to a question their oldest asks before talking to him again, “I thought Jim told you everything.”

“He did, but he’s leaving something out. I can tell.”

“You’re not planning on ruining this, are you? Danny, they just got started, at least let them go on one date before—”

“No, no. I’m not planning anything. I just want to know what really happened.”

“Why? So, you can tease him?”

“Would I ever do something like that?” He can picture her eyebrow raising and he chuckles, “No, I just… you know how much Jim likes her. He’s taking this pretty seriously. I just want to make sure Pam is too.”

He can hear her sigh just loud enough that only he can hear it and he knows that she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. “Well, I haven’t had lunch with her in a while.”

“That’s my girl.”

***

Pam stumbles inside with a few bags of groceries and a pile of mail. Usually Singer would help her out, but he hopped out of the Jeep before she could even put it in park and then headed towards the woods in the backyard. She drops the groceries onto her dining room table, throws one of the lasagnas she bought into the microwave, and then goes upstairs and changes into shorts and a t-shirt. The microwave is still going when she gets back, so she starts flipping through the mail.

Bills, a few magazines, a letter from the art school Jo had sent her to, no doubt asking for some sort of donation. She sets the pile back down, not wanting to deal with any of it right now.

She was going to go out with Jim.

Her best friend. The one person she never thought she would go out with but is now wondering why it took her so long to give him a chance. She whispers his name out loud to see if it sounded as unbelievable as she felt right now.

Yep. It did.

The microwave beeping brings her back, and she grabs her dinner before making her way to the living room. She notices the answering machine is blinking, so she sits in the recliner next to it so she can listen while she eats. The first message is from Karen, asking her out to lunch on Friday. “If you can’t make it, call me back. Otherwise let’s meet at Alfredo’s, okay?”

Pam smiled, making sure to remember to write that down. It’s been a while since just her and Karen have gotten together, and she hadn’t realized until now just how much she was dying to tell someone about her and Jim.

The machine beeped again, and this time Roy’s voice came through. He sounded tired, she thinks he must have been working all day.

“Hey, Pam. I was just calling to check in but I guess you’re not there. Um, I’ll be busy all evening and pretty much all day tomorrow, but I’ll be home tomorrow night.” He pauses and Pam can hear him take a deep breath. “You can’t believe how much I miss you right now.”

She hears the phone click as he hangs up and then the machine is telling her to press a button to repeat, save, or delete the message, but Pam ignores it. She frowns a little down at her lasagna, not hungry anymore. She is suddenly struck with the thought that Roy isn’t going to take this very well.

***

Jim pulls up to Pam’s house the next night with a small box of chocolates and a few sunflowers, her favorite. She had told him to just be himself, that she likes him best when he’s just Jim and not trying to be someone else. But he couldn’t help but want to impress her, to show her just how much this means to him.

He cuts the engine and grabs the chocolate and flowers before getting out and starting towards the house. He had tried out about thirty different opening lines, finally settling on It was a great idea to go to the river. It’s a beautiful night. Something casual that wouldn’t make it seem like he was trying to come on too strong but complimented her all the same. He had just made it to the porch when Pam opened the door and greeted him, but he has no idea what she said because her voice coupled with the sundress that hugged her perfectly had his brain short circuiting and all he could think was wow, we are actually going on a date.

There were beautiful women everywhere; Jim knew that. There were women who would make men turn their heads even with a date on their arm. There were women who could get out of a ticket just by batting their eyelashes at the state trooper. There were women who put a lot of effort into their appearance every day and it paid off.

And then there was Pam.

He knew most people found her attractive, but he also knew most people found her attractive in the “girl-next-door” kind of way. Nothing world-shattering, but still pretty. And Jim knew there were flaws with Pam, of course – she was paler than she would like to be, her teeth were a little crooked, and her hair tended to do as it pleased more often than not. But as she walks down the porch steps to him, he had never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Jim? You okay?”

Don’t blow this. He shakes his head and looks down, remembering what he’s holding. “Oh, uh, I brought you flowers and chocolate.”

He can feel his face getting hotter as she smiles and says, “I can see that.”

Say your line. Take a deep breath and say your line. Don’t blow this. “You look beautiful at the river tonight.”

She giggles, “Thank you, but we aren’t there yet.”

He sighs and drops his chin to his chest, “Right.” He looks back up when she places a hand on his arm, she’s smiling at him and he smiles shyly back, “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Not knowing what to say. I just—” He pauses and the small smile still playing on her lips calms his nerves a little. “I’m just glad I’m here.”

He watches her bite her lip and whisper, “Me too,” and this is already the best date he’s ever been on.

With another deep breath and an extended hand, he asks, “Are you ready to go?”

She slides her hand into his and he’s amazed that despite the size difference, they seem to fit together perfectly. “Whenever you are.”

He turned to lead her to the car when he heard Singer bark and he turned back towards the house. “Is Singer not coming?”

“I didn’t think you’d want him along.”

Jim considered it. Singer may ease both of their nerves by reducing any expectations either of them might have come up with. “He can come if you want. The restaurant has a grassy area up front and he’ll love the river.”

He watched her look at the house, debating whether or not to bring Singer. She looks back at him, her eyes asking are you sure? So, he gives her a reassuring smile and a nudge towards the house, and she says, “Thank you. Here, let me bring these in while I get him, I’ll be right back.”

She lets go of his hand and grabs the flowers and chocolate from his other one before quickly walking back up the steps and disappearing inside. A minute later she reappears with Singer by her side, a big smile on both of their faces.

Singer was curled up and asleep on the grass as Jim and Pam sat above him on the second story balcony. Summer was trying to hold on, but Autumn was quickly approaching, the cool breeze causing the umbrella above them to sway and the occasional chill go through both of them. But the sky was clear, the weather was warm other than the breeze, and he had Pam sitting across from him, so he was happy.

The waiter came by for their drink orders, Pam ordered a wine while Jim went with a bottle of beer and an order of mozzarella sticks for them to share.

Jim was trying really hard to be cool and casual. To make sure Pam wouldn’t regret this. To make sure there would be a second, third, tenth, and then countless other dates. They talked about their day on the drive over, then about Jo and Kelly and Danny and Karen as they parked and waited for their table. That was easy, he could pretend that he was just giving her a lift to work or taking her home after a night at his brother’s house. But now they’re sitting in a restaurant, just the two of them, and it’s a real date.

He had been imagining this moment for the past few years, what she would wear, where they would go, what they would talk about. However, now that it was a reality, he found himself at a loss for words. Then her lips pursed as she took a sip of her wine, and he remembered that if he played his cards right, he might be able to kiss her. He had to read the entrees three times before he could push that thought out of his head, at least for the time being.

He was nervous, but he somehow managed to keep the conversation going through their drinks and as they ordered their meals. He even made her laugh a few times, which was really his main goal for the evening. By the time their dinners arrived, though, he realized that despite the front he was putting on, with all of his nerves, he couldn’t remember anything they had just talked about.

Pull yourself together, Halpert.

***

Jim wasn’t being himself.

Pam wasn’t really surprised. She knew this was going to be a little weird, it would take a bit for them both to loosen up. She had just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. She wanted tonight to go well. Even if they decided they were better off as just friends, she wanted them both to give it an honest go and not let their pasts stand in the way of who they could be. She knew that whether or not this led anywhere, Jim was going to play a major part in her future. The fact that he has also played a major part in her past complicates things, but she was ready to move past that. He knew her. He knew her strengths, her weaknesses, her insecurities, her history. Most importantly, he knew Mark.

She had thought about Mark more than once while they were eating, and she couldn’t help but compare the two. She was right in her comment the other day, how similar Jim and Mark are to each other. But even with all of their similarities, she knew Jim would never be like Mark. She doesn’t think he would ever try to be, either, which she finds heartwarming. Even throughout tonight’s awkward moments and complicated feelings, she was also reminded of the feeling she had while her and Mark were dating. She felt important, safe, and loved. And she felt sure, just like she had with Mark, that not only did Jim love her now, but there would never come a day when he didn’t.

There was a brief moment where the feeling of betrayal crawled its way to the forefront of her mind, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She was sure it was a sign that Mark was somehow watching over them, but she was also sure that he was telling her he wasn’t upset, because for the first time, the feeling of betrayal dissipated and all that was left behind was a warm sensation coursing through her.

By the time they had finished eating, the moon had risen, and the crickets were chirping. Jim smiled over at her and asked, “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“That would be great.”

She stands and straightens her dress as Jim gently grabs her waist in order to squeeze past her so he can peek over the railing and check on Singer. She could smell his cologne with him so close, and she was suddenly reminded of just how much had changed this week. He makes a comment about Singer, but Pam isn’t sure exactly what he said because when he turned back to her, the moonlight made his eyes a brighter green and casted shadows that made his face look more chiseled than it actually is. His fingers, wrapped around the wrought iron fence were stained with grease and his hair, though she could tell he tried to style it, was falling back into his face. She realized once again how different he was to the man who she had once vowed her life to.

But she liked it. She liked him. No, she wasn’t in love with Jim, but as he took her hand to lead her back inside, she remembers feeling just like this on her first date with Mark. So, maybe it was just a matter of time.

***

Although there was a walking trail only a few feet away from the river, Jim and Pam found themselves walking right on the edge. They had removed their shoes, the wind causing the river to splash up at them every now and then as Singer switched between wading through the water and sniffing the ground a few feet ahead of them.

They walked in silence for a moment. Jim had noticed that Pam had gotten more and more quiet as dinner went on, and he wanted to give her time to work through what she was feeling, but he was also starting to get a little more concerned as they walked further from the restaurant and she still didn’t say anything.

He gently nudges her shoulder with his own, “Hey, you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

“About Mark?”

She looks up at him, “How did you know?”

“I’ve seen that look on your face lots of times. You’d make a terrible poker player.” He smiles when she lightly swats his arm. “Besides, nothing gets past me, Beesly.”

And, if he was being honest, he had thought about Mark a few times tonight as well. Hoped that taking Pam out was okay, that Mark was watching and smiling down at them.

“Oh yeah? Then what was I thinking?”

“You were thinking… that you were glad you married him.”

“Now that’s a safe answer if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Was I right, though?”

“No.”

“So, what were you thinking about?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No, you just don’t want to know.”

His eyebrows knit together, “Why not?”

“It’s just kind of silly.”

“C’mon, tell me.”

“Okay, alright. I… was thinking about his fingers.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer, and he has to fight back a smile because he knows that she’s being serious. “His fingers?”

“Yeah. You have grease on your fingers. I was thinking that in all the time I was dating and then married to Mark, I never saw his fingers look like that.” She stops walking and places a hand on his arm when he shoves his hands into his pockets self-consciously. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I know you’re a mechanic, your hands are supposed to be dirty.”

“They’re not dirty, I wash them all the time. They’re just stained.”

She smiles, “Jim, I know. You don’t have to be so defensive. Besides,” she shrugs and starts playing with her own fingers, “I kind of like it.”

He’s glad that the moon is the only source of light right now so she can’t see how red his cheeks are, “You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess I have to. They come with the package.”

Jim can’t help the grin that spreads across his face and he’s happy to see that she’s smiling back up at him. They start walking again, letting the first few steps be filled with nothing but a comfortable silence and Singer treading the water next to them. After a moment, he asks, “Would you like to go out again tomorrow night? Maybe we can drive out to Brooklyn?”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Singer would probably have to stay behind this time.”

She giggled, “That’s okay. He’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

“Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“This one is all on you. I’ve done my duty.”

“And you did it well.” He snuck a look over at her and then reached for her hand, relaxing even more as she interlocks their fingers. “It was a great idea to go to the river. It’s beautiful tonight.”

She squeezes his hand, “Yes, it is.”

He was reluctant to let go of her hand even as they reached his truck, but he didn’t have a choice, so he opened the door for her and then went around to his side. He considered taking it again once he sat down, but her hands were in her lap and she was looking out the side window.

Neither said much on the way home, and although he was pretty sure she had a good evening, he wasn’t sure what she was thinking right now. He knew what he was thinking and hoped that she would too. Hoped that she would pause on the porch before saying goodnight, and she would let him kiss her.

He walks her to the door, “I had a great time tonight.”

She smiles, “Me too. What time should I be ready tomorrow?”

“How does seven sound?”

“Perfect.”

There was the pause. He looked at her and took the smallest step forward, saying, “So…”

Pam reached for his hand, but instead of pulling him closer like he thought she was going to, she just squeezed it once before dropping it again. “Goodnight, Jim. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t going to kiss him, nor let him kiss her. He started shifting his balance from one foot to the other, “Tomorrow?”

She opens her purse and starts searching for her keys, “Yeah. Our date, remember?”

“Right.”

She found her keys and slipped one into the lock, opening the door to let Singer inside. She turns back to him, “Thank you again for the nice evening.”

He nods in response as she follows Singer into the house and offers one last smile before closing the door. He waits for a moment before realizing that she isn’t coming back out, so he turns and heads back to his truck.

Maybe tomorrow.

***

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, Pam grabbed one of the magazines that was still laying in the pile of mail on the table and sat on the couch so she could flip through it as she replayed the evening.

She had a great time. It was a little awkward at first, but by the time they were walking by the river, both of them had seemed to relax and were able to be themselves a little more. She was glad that she didn’t kiss Jim on the porch, though she’s not entirely sure why. Maybe she just needs a little more time to get used to all of this. Her feelings towards him, the fact that they are going out now, how she wants to keep going out with him, everything.

There was also a small part of her that just wanted to see him squirm. When he squirmed, he was cute in a way that only Jim could be. And Danny was right, he was fun to tease.

She tossed the magazine to the side and picked up the remote instead. She turned on the TV, settling on some Lifetime movie she knew she was going to get more invested in than she should. She had missed the first few minutes, but she quickly gets sucked into the world where a young arson investigator has to find the man who is targeting her before he can cause any more damage.

Twenty minutes later, just as Detective Reena Hale is starting to figure out who the pyromaniac is, there’s a knock on the door. Singer is up and across the room before she can mute the TV, poking his head through the curtains. Pam stands up, assuming Jim had come back.

Then Singer started growling.

Her stomach dropped but she went to the door anyway and opened it. “Roy?”

“Hey, Pam.” He held out a bouquet of roses. “I picked these up at the airport on the way home. Sorry they’re not as fresh as they should be, but I didn’t have a lot of options.”

Pam stood in the doorway with Singer standing next to her. He had stopped growling when she opened the door and Roy offered an open palm. Singer sniffed it then looked up to make sure the face matched the scent, before grumbling as he walked away. She knew he wasn’t happy about Roy being here, but she was glad Singer didn’t view him as much of a threat anymore.

Pam hesitated before taking the roses, hoping he couldn’t see the sunflowers Jim had given her only a couple of hours ago. Her “Thank you” was soft, she really wishes he hadn’t of brought flowers.

“I’m sorry for coming by so late, I just missed you and wanted to see you before I went to my place.”

“It’s okay.”

“I, uh… I called earlier to let you know, but I guess you weren’t in.”

She glances back at the answering machine, “Did you leave a message?”

“No, I didn’t have time. Final boarding was being called and there was an issue with my ticket.” He shrugs, “You know how it is. I left you one yesterday, though.”

“Yeah, I got that one.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “So, were you in? Earlier, I mean.”

Pam could feel her shoulders tense and her lips pursed a little. She didn’t want to do this right now. “I was out with a friend.”

“A friend?”

“You remember Jim? We grabbed a quick dinner.”

“Right, yeah. The one that works in the garage, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I did. I haven’t seen much of him lately, so it was nice to be able to catch up.”

“Oh, good.” He glances off to the side of the porch, then down at his shoes and Pam hates this. She hasn’t gone out with a ton of guys, but she has found that breaking up never got easier. When he looks back at her, he asks, “Can I come in? I wanted to talk for a few minutes.”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of late, I was just getting ready for bed.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s okay. Can I see you tomorrow? Maybe we can grab some dinner?”

Pam blinked, holding her eyes closed for an extra second. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. Toby, at least, had a suspicion that the end was coming; Roy didn’t. “I’m sorry, I’ve already made plans.”

“With Jim?”

She could only nod.

She watched his jaw clench as he scratched the side of his face, trying to decide what this means. It took him a second, but then the realization hit. “So, this is it, then? For us?”

She bites her lip and nods again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s not that.”

“Then… what happened? Didn’t you have fun when we went out?”

“Yes, I had fun.”

“Then what is it?”

She took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, “It’s not really about you at all, honestly. It’s about Jim and me. I think…” she pauses, trying to word this correctly when she’s still figuring it out herself. “I think this thing between Jim and I has been a long time coming, it just took me a while to see it. I’m sorry that you had to be involved.”

It was a long moment before he said anything and when he did, his eyes were narrowed and his voice was rough, “Must have been an exciting few days while I was gone, huh?”

“I said I’m sorry—”

“For what, exactly? For going behind my back as soon as I left town? For using me to make Jim jealous?”

Her eyebrows furrow and she shakes her head, “What are you talking about?”

“You heard me.”

Her jaw drops a little, shocked by his accusations. “I didn’t use you—”

“No?” He interrupted her, his tone becoming angrier, “Then why are you doing this? We are still getting to know each other. I don’t understand how I could leave for a few days and suddenly Jim is the one you want to be with. You really think I’d believe that you just suddenly fell for the guy? It sure as hell sounds like you’ve planned this all along.”

“You’re a jerk.” The words had come out before she could stop them, her hand gripping the door handle tighter.

Roy just stared at her for a moment before his face softened a little, “This isn’t fair, Pam. Please, I just want to talk for a minute, okay?”

Pam couldn’t believe what was going on. She watches as tears form in Roy’s eyes and his bottom lip quivers for just a second. This man is a roller coaster of emotions, she thought as she decided on what she would say next. “Roy, look, I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry that you got involved in all of this. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. Really.” She paused, making sure he was listening to her. “But it’s late and we’re both tired. I think it’s best if you leave before we say anything else we don’t mean. Okay?”

When he doesn’t respond, Pam takes that as her cue to close the door. She takes a step back and starts to shut it when Roy reaches out for the edge of the door, stopping her. “Wait! Please, Pam… I really need to talk to you.”

In the future, when Pam remembered this moment, she would always recall with shock and amazement at how quickly Singer moved. Singer had launched towards Roy’s hand before Pam could even process that he was trying to grab the door. She stood, stunned, as Roy screamed and stumbled past the threshold, Singer snarling as he bit Roy’s hand.

“Singer!”

Roy fell to his knees as Singer shook his head from side to side.

“Stop him! Get him off of me!”

Pam quickly reached for Singer’s collar, tugging him back as hard as she could, “Let go! Singer, let go, now!”

Despite the fury of the moment, Singer did let go, stepping back only enough to show Pam that he was listening to her. He stayed in defense, though, his fangs showing and the hair on his back standing up. Roy immediately drew his hand to his chest, wrapping his other hand around it.

“Is your hand okay?”

He makes a fist a few times, only wincing a little, “I don’t think anything is broken.” He stood back up, “I didn’t even see him coming. Remind me not to hold your door again with your dog around.”

He spoke as if what just happened was almost comedic, but Pam couldn’t, wouldn’t, smile. Singer had acted instinctively to protect her, and she wasn’t about to punish him for that. She just stood there and watched as Roy continued to open and close his hand a few more times. She could see the indentations from Singer’s teeth, but he didn’t seem to draw blood.

After a moment, he finally said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped you from going inside. That was wrong of me.”

You got that right.

“And I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you earlier, either. It’s just,” he sighed, “this came at the end of a really tough week. That’s why I wanted to stop by. I know it’s no excuse, but…”

“Roy.”

He waited a moment and she wanted to shut the door again but just before she could, he spoke up and she stilled when his voice came out choked and ragged.

“My mother died this week. That’s why I had to leave. I just came from her funeral.”

***

Roy sighed. He didn’t want to have to tell her like this. He thought she would invite him inside, offer to get him a drink, and he could tell her gently why he had to leave so abruptly. He didn’t want to be standing on her front porch, hand throbbing, as he choked out his confession.

“That’s why I had to leave the note on your Jeep. The doctor had called me and said it wasn’t looking good. Suggested that I grab the first flight over because he wasn’t sure she would even last the rest of the night. I bought a ticket to the first available flight out of Wilkes-Barre and had to leave right away to make it on time.”

He was sitting on her couch now, after breaking down at her front door. He heard her say “I’m sorry” but he paid more attention to the look of sympathy that flashed across her face. He watched as she had an internal battle with herself on what to do, then finally telling him to give her a second to put Singer in the bedroom and then he can come in.

She’s now sitting across from him in the chair, listening to him explain why he left and what happened while he was gone.

“I know it doesn’t change what you said on the porch. I know that. I just… didn’t want us to end in a fight. I enjoyed our time together too much for that to be how we ended things.” He clears his throat and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “It just seemed so sudden, you know? I didn’t expect you to tell me that, hell, I didn’t expect any of what happened this week to happen. And I know I overreacted. But you can’t imagine what it was like over there. Everything…” he looks back up at her, “the way she looked, what the nurses were saying, how it smelled…”

He ran his hands over his face as he took a couple shallow, shaky breaths. “I just needed to talk to someone. Someone who would listen.”

She smiled a little, though he could tell it was at least a little forced. “We can talk. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

***

Roy rambled on for a couple of hours, bouncing from subject to subject. One moment he would be talking about his childhood, what it was like growing up with his mom, to how he felt as he held her hand in the hospital, to what it was like driving back to the hotel after she had passed. After the first hour, Pam offered him a beer and as the evening went on, he had finished three without seeming to notice. He also switched between silence, a far off look in his eyes as he stared across the room, to talking a million words a minute, everything he was saying starting to run together. But she sat and listened the whole time. She would ask the occasional question when it seemed appropriate, but that was all. She saw tears more than once, but he never let them escape after that initial breakdown.

Midnight came and went. By the time she had looked at the clock again, it was almost two in the morning. The beer and exhaustion were finally taking its toll on Roy as he began to repeat himself and his words began to slur. She stood to grab a glass of water for herself, and by the time she walked back into the living room, Roy’s eyes were closed. His head leaned back at an angle she was sure couldn’t be comfortable and his mouth hung slightly open, his breaths slow and steady.

Great.

She wanted to wake him up, but she wasn’t sure he was sober enough to drive. She thought about calling a taxi for him, she wasn’t comfortable with him staying, but she thought if she woke him up, he would want to talk more. Despite her willingness to listen if he needed her to, she was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.

“Roy,” she whispered, “You awake?”

No response.

She waited a few seconds before trying again, but he didn’t move at all. She could try shouting or nudging him awake, but it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

He’s already out, she thought, it’s not a big deal.

Pam turned out the lights, leaving Roy how he was, before going upstairs to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. Singer raised his head from where he was lying on the bed, watching as she changed into pajamas. She rolled her eyes when he looked at her curiously.

“It’s only for tonight,” she explained, more so to herself than to Singer. “I’m just tired. I’m not changing my mind.”

She woke up a few hours later, the sun shining through the curtains she had forgotten to close last night. She peeked at the clock, her alarm would be going off in about three minutes, so she rolled over to try to enjoy her bed before she needed to go back to reality.

After crawling out of bed, she cracked open her bedroom door and looked down the stairs. Roy seemed to still be asleep on the couch, so she closed the door once more and headed into the bathroom. She hopped into the shower and dressed for work, not wanting Roy to see her in her pajamas. By the time she entered the living room with Singer walking beside her, Roy was sitting up, though he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he looked up and saw her, he smiled a little, looking embarrassed.”

“Hey. I guess I conked out last night, huh? Sorry about that.”

“It was a long day.”

“Yeah, it was.” He stood, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the coffee table in front of him. “Thanks for letting me stay last night. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” She paused. “Are you going to be okay?”

He shrugs, “I guess I have to be, right? Life goes on.”

She just nods and watches as he brushes at his shirt, trying to smooth out a couple of wrinkles.

“I’m sorry again for how I acted last night. I was just… well, no. I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay. And I’m sorry if it seems out of the blue, but—”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. Jim seems like a great guy; you don’t have to explain yourself.”

She hesitated, but finally said, “He is. Thank you.”

Roy offers a small smile, “I just want you to be happy. You’re a great person, you deserve to be happy. Especially after listening to me drone on last night. No hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings.”

“Still friends?”

“Sure.”

He nods once before pocketing his wallet. He starts towards the door but before he opens it, he turns back to her. “Jim’s a lucky guy, don’t forget that.” He opened the door without looking away from her as he says, “Bye, Pam.”

It’s not until he’s backing out of the driveway that Pam feels herself start to relax. She was thankful that it had gone better than she thought it would. Well, better than last night, at least. Anything was better than last night.

But at least it’s over now.

As soon as Roy closes his front door, he heads straight for the stairs, taking two at a time until he reaches the top and enters the second room on the right. He closes the door behind him quickly, keeping the room dark save for the lamp illuminating red in the corner.  

He had set this room up first when he moved in. He had covered the windows with tarps and garbage bags using duct tape, replaced all the light bulbs with red bulbs, set up shelves for his cameras and film, a large table in the middle for developing. He usually only keeps the side lamp on, but this time he turns on the overhead light as well after grabbing the small stack of photos he had developed the other day.  

Pam stared back at him through the pictures, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She had looked so happy that weekend at the theatre and the beach. She had genuinely thanked him at the end of each day and said she had a good time as well. He couldn’t figure out what had happened between then and now to explain what had happened last night.  

But it wasn’t her fault. Roy wouldn’t blame her. She had moved so quickly from anger to empathy, letting him into her home and listening to him ramble when he probably didn’t deserve to. He was lucky to have found someone like Pam. 

He’s been learning more and more about Pam lately. She had told him that she grew up in Boone, North Carolina, which led him to do some research. She had told him about growing up with her mother, a drunk who brought home men more than she brought home a paycheck, and he found that she is still living in a trailer on the outskirts of Boone. Roy wasn’t sure if her dad was alive, Pam had never mentioned him, but he found a William Beesly living in a small town in Michigan and after a little more digging, confirmed that it was her father. Found out he’s living with another woman, after having left Pam and her mother about 25 years ago, he doubts they’ve ever spoken since then.

From there, Roy went to find out all the places Pam had lived, what schools she had attended, found out that she dropped out of school for a year in middle school before going back and graduating near the top of her class. After graduation, she started working and met Mark shortly after, following him back up to Scranton. He doesn’t understand what it was about Mark that had Pam take such a big risk, as far as he could tell Mark was nice, but bland. Boring. Nothing special. He doesn’t get it.  

He has also been learning about Jim. Turns out, buying a couple of rounds at Poor Richard’s can get you whatever information you want, if you ask the right guy. He’s in love with Pam, but Roy had figured that out just minutes after meeting the guy. Decent dude, co-owned the local mechanic shop with his brother, played basketball at the rec center a couple of times a month, got along with anyone he met.  

What Roy hadn’t known about was Katy. According to the man he had sat across from in Poor Richard’s the other day, Jim and Katy had been going out for almost two years before she cheated on him with a coworker of hers. The man had said it hurt Jim pretty bad, was pretty sure he even took a few days off of work, which apparently Jim almost never does. And although Roy had found the information about Jim interesting, he didn’t find it very important, until now. But even still, he stores it for later, when the situation is right.  

Besides that, Jim seemed very similar to Mark, which is why Roy is thinking Pam is attaching herself to him. Jim is safe, comfortable. She knows Jim, Jim knows her, she doesn’t need to go outside of her comfort zone. She doesn’t need to try to find something different than what she already had, what she had loved, if she stays with Jim. If she stays with Jim, she might as well still be with Mark, as far as Roy can tell. And he gets it. There’s safety in comfort, in the expected.  

She was so careful. She kept Singer with her whenever she could. He had noticed the miniature can of mace on her keyring. He was sure she locked the door behind her after she had gone to bed last night, leaving him downstairs on the couch. So careful.  

Not that he blamed her. She had probably done the same as a child, with her mother bringing in so many strange men night after night. Probably was always keeping guard and making sure no one could get to her. But she doesn’t need to live like that anymore. She had grown up and left the toxicity of her childhood behind, just like he had.  

Really, he found himself and Pam to be very similar. Their unfortunate pasts, their first marriages ending in the worst of ways, how strong they both are now because of it all.

He remembers vividly the day he had gotten his first camera. He was ten years old, and although Christmas was usually filled with more fighting and less money than was usual in the Anderson household, Roy remembers waking up with a gut feeling that today was going to be different. It was going to be good. And when his mother handed him his present, he had cried tears of happiness for the first time in his life.  

Photography had been his escape from life. He would borrow books from the school library, would bring them home and study the pictures so closely, his mother would find him with his nose against the pages more than once. He would ask repeatedly for a camera, but birthdays and Christmases passed, and he was lucky to get some candy in his stocking, so he was quickly losing hope.  

But they had gotten him one, finally. He used it constantly, playing with the lenses and the lighting to figure out what he liked best. As soon as the roll of film was filled, he would beg his father to get the pictures developed, and once they returned, he would study them as closely as he did the photos in the books, trying to see how he could improve.  

His mother was proud of him, would comment on his pictures, telling him what she liked and even pointing out things he might like to photograph next. His father, on the other hand, quickly grew tired of the seemingly endless rolls of film Roy would request and although at first he would compliment Roy’s pictures, his father’s comments quickly turned sarcastic and then mean.  

But Roy didn’t mind as much. He was used to his father’s rude words and uncaring demeanor. He would just wait a little longer between asking for rolls to be developed and would try to take pictures of plenty of different things, so his father couldn’t say that he was wasting film on the same thing every time. And it seemed to work, or at least Roy thought it had. The comments had lessened and his father seemed to grumble a little less when Roy asked him to bring the film to the shop, but Roy hadn’t known that his father was only a few drinks and a lost baseball game away from snapping.  

Which is how Roy found himself in his room a few days later, his camera shattered to pieces by the hand of his father. His father had yelled at Roy for wasting away their money on these stupid pictures before taking a hammer to the camera, with no way of fixing it no matter how carefully Roy tried to piece it back together. He had already disliked his father, but that day was the first time Roy felt true hatred toward Neville Anderson. That hatred lasted until his father died later that year, and if he was honest with himself, still to this day. 

He remembered that day vividly, as well -- the day his father died. Roy had been just barely eleven years old, and he had been once again trying to fix his camera when he heard his mother’s scream. He ran down to her, found her on her knees in the doorway to the garage, sobbing. He looked up and saw his father sitting in the running car, and although he didn’t get it at first, he then noticed his father’s pale, ashy skin, slacked jaw, and unmoving eyes, and he knew he was dead.  

Officers had filled their home for the next few hours. Roy refused to talk, his mother couldn’t talk, her sobs uncontrollable. When she was able to calm down, she wasn’t able to give the police any of the answers they were looking for. She knew he had gone out drinking the night before, but hadn’t heard when he got home. She didn’t know who he was with or where he had gone.

The police were suspicious, since the manual garage door had been closed. They couldn’t figure out why Mr. Anderson would keep the car running, get out to close the door, and then go back into the car and stay there. Especially after some digging through Neville’s credit card transactions and finding out where he had been and were able to talk to some of the guys who were with him that night. Everyone they had talked to called Neville Anderson a “fighter,” “he would never give up,” “something must have happened.” But when the autopsy came back and showed such high levels of alcohol in his blood, and with no further evidence, the police ruled the death as an accident; Neville was simply drunk and wasn’t thinking straight.  

The funeral was small, although Roy remembers being surprised that more than a dozen people had shown up. He kept his eyes casted downward, nodded solemnly to peoples’ condolences, would occasionally wipe his cheek, as if wiping away a tear. He listened as numerous people called Neville a great man, a wonderful husband, a fantastic father.  

Roy did his best to play the role of the devastated son who just lost his loving father, and everyone believed him. But, when the funeral was over, when everyone was driving away and his mother was putting the last of the gifted flowers into the car, Roy returned to his father’s grave.  

And then he spat on it.  

Now, he looks at Pam smiling back at him in the photo, and he’s determined. Determined to forgive her, determined to show her what she’s missing, determined to take her out of this nothing life she thinks she loves.  

He takes his favorite photo, one of Pam on the boardwalk, her back is to him but she had turned her head when he said her name, a small smile playing on her lips, and tacks it to a bulletin board on the wall. He would save her; he had to. 

*** 

Pam didn’t plan on telling Jim that Roy had stayed at her house last night. Nothing had happened, and after finding out the real story behind Jim and Katy’s breakup, she wasn’t about to ruin what had just started. She did, however, want to see Jim before going into work. Since she was already dressed once Roy had left this morning, and had left and grabbed two coffees before parking in front of the studio and walking across the street to the garage. Singer ran ahead, alerting Jim of her presence before she could even walk through the door.  

She finds Singer on his hind legs, all but tackling Jim to the ground as he licked his face. Jim was in his coveralls again, and she had seen him like this a thousand times, but it was almost like seeing someone new.  

She had been a little worried that maybe she had romanticized last night. That she loved Jim so much, cared for him so much, that she was looking through rose colored glasses and was possibly seeing things as greater than they really were. Which is part of the reason she wanted to see him this morning, to see if any of her feelings had changed overnight.  

She was glad to see they hadn’t.  

Once Jim was able to push Singer off and actually look at Pam, he smiled her favorite smile at her, and her knees went a little weak. She offered him the extra coffee once he got close enough and then leaned back against the car he was working on.  

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

She takes a sip of her coffee, “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t change your mind about tonight.” 

“Never.” 

“Good.” She watches him lift his own cup to take a drink and notices band-aids wrapped around his fingertips. “What happened there?” 

“What? Oh, nothing. Just a little sore.” 

“Why?” 

He shrugs, “I guess I scrubbed them a little too hard last night.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why would you—is it because of what I said last night?” 

“No, no, no.” He looks at her raise her eyebrow and shrugs again, “Well, maybe that was part of it.” 

She frowns a little, “Jim, I didn’t mean anything mean by it. I was just teasing you.” 

“I know, it’s fine, really.” He smiles and then leans against the car next to her, their shoulders barely touching. “Besides, it kind of worked. They’re now only a dull gray.” 

She giggled, “Well, don’t make them too clean. I really do like them.” 

He nods, “Deal.” 

She glances up at the clock on the wall and stands up, “I should get going, Jo’s going to make comments if I’m late to work and she sees me walking out of here. But I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Seven o’clock.” 

She reaches down and squeezes his hand, “Bye, Jim.” 

*** 

“So, what happened with Roy?” 

Karen sat across from her at a table in a little diner down the street from the studio. Karen asked if they could meet here instead of Alfredo’s, since it’s closer to the kids’ schools, and although Pam hasn’t been here much, it reminds her too much of the diner she was working in before she met Mark, she agreed, if only to have their fries again.  

She pops a fry into her mouth before answering, “It just... wasn’t right.” 

“From what I saw at Poor Richard’s, you guys seemed to be getting along great.” 

“Yeah, we were. He’s nice, I liked him, but I just didn’t feel anything for him, you know?” 

“It’s a shame, I wouldn’t have minded seeing him around a few more times.” 

“He is pretty cute, huh?” 

Karen steals one of Pam’s fries, “Oh, yeah. I asked Danny why he doesn’t look like that anymore and he said ‘if I didn’t know any better, I would think you just insulted me.’” 

Pam laughs, “You two are perfect for each other.” 

“I love that guy, but boy, do I want to whack him with a frying pan some days.” 

Pam giggles into her tea, spilling a little on herself. She grabs a napkin to clean it up and says, “Did I ever tell you I threw a pan at Mark once?” 

“You did?” 

“Mhm. We were fighting over something stupid, I honestly couldn’t even tell you what it was, but I grabbed a pan and threw it right at him. It missed, my aim never was very good, but I definitely had his attention after that.” 

“Man, you think you know a girl.” 

“He never let me live it down, either. Would sometimes hand me a pan himself if a fight went on for too long, which of course just made us both laugh and realize how stupid we were being. I’m actually surprised you didn’t know.” 

“Life behind closed doors is a mysterious thing, isn’t it?” 

“I guess so.” 

Karen paused, took a sip of her coffee, and then a bite of her sandwich, before asking, “So, what’s this I hear about Jim?” 

Pam knew this was coming. If there was one thing that she could count on, it was that secrets never stayed secrets for long in Scranton.  

“That depends on what you heard.”

“I heard that he asked you out and you went to dinner.” 

“Yeah. Well, kind of. I was the one who asked him out.” 

Karen smirked, “We knew something was up.” 

Pam laughed, “I don’t think he ever would have asked me, honestly. You know how he is.” 

Karen nods, “I do. Which is why I’m glad you’re finally taking a chance on him.” 

“It was a fun night.” 

“So, do you like him?” 

“Of course.” 

“No, I mean do you like him?” 

Pam bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She loved Jim, but until about a week or two ago, would have convinced herself it was the same kind of love she had for Karen or Danny or Jo. But now that she’s allowing herself to look at him as more than just her best friend, she’s not so sure the love is so platonic after all. And although she knows she’s not in love with him yet, she can be honest when she says, “Yeah. I do.” 

Karen smiles, leaning back in the booth, “Well, it’s about time.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m pretty sure all of Pennsylvania knew it was just a matter of time before you two got together.” 

“That’s pretty dramatic.” 

“Maybe, but I’m glad it’s finally happening.” 

“We’ve only been out on one date, Kare.” 

“Danny and I went out on three before we talked futures, so...”

Pam laughed, “I like Jim, but I’m not quite there yet.”

“Of course. Hey,” Karen reaches across the table and squeezes Pam’s hand, “how are you feeling with all of this? Obviously, I’m excited for you and Jim, but I know it must be hard after Mark.” 

Pam sighs, “I’m... okay. Better than I thought I would be, honestly. Jim and I talked about Mark, which helped a lot. We seem to be on the same page when it comes to him. It’s weird, but I’m okay.” 

“Good. Jim’s a good guy, but you know that. And he loves you, which is the most important thing. Like mom used to always say, find a guy who loves you more than you love him. We all know Jim does.” 

“She did not say that.” 

“She did! And it’s true. Like I said, I love Danny. Can’t live with him, but definitely could not live without him. But if I left, or God forbid, something happened to me? He wouldn’t be able to move on, I know it.” 

“And you think Jim’s the same way?” 

“Pam, that boy would die for you in a heartbeat if you asked him to.” 

By the time Pam finished work and left the studio, Karen’s comment was still nagging at her.  

“He wouldn’t be able to move on, I know it.”

She wondered if Mark would have been able to, had their roles been reversed. If he would have ever even thought of trying to find someone new. She would hope that he would have, that he wouldn’t stay alone if the only thing keeping him from finding someone else was the thought of her being upset about it. But she missed him more this afternoon than she had in a long time, so instead of turning right out of the street to head home, she turns left, pulling up in front of Cathedral Cemetery a few minutes later.  

She walks the familiar path to his headstone. For months after Mark died, she barely left the house except to visit him almost daily. A half mile walk down the main path, and then twenty-three steps to the right, right under the big oak tree. Singer stops ten steps away, as always. She’s not really sure why he refuses to come any closer, but she thinks he knows that she needs the time alone.  

She gently runs her fingers across the top of the grave, and then over the etching of his name. She sits cross-legged on the ground in front of it, and she waits for the tears to come, but they don’t. She feels sad, feels the loss that she usually does when she visits him and remembers their life together, but the heaviness in her chest that she had become so accustomed to isn’t there. She wonders what that means.  

She stays there for another hour or so, thinking, remembering, sharing. She closes her eyes as she recounts the story of her broken sink, and she can almost pretend he’s right there, laughing with her; can almost hear him. Her breath is shaky as she opens her eyes and just sees stone in front of her, but she feels better now. She hadn’t visited him in almost three weeks, the longest she’s ever gone, and she missed the comfort that he brought her, even if he wasn’t actually there.  

As she stands to leave, swatting away a mosquito, she feels a rush of certainty wash over her. Mark would have been okay with this. He told her in his note with Singer that he wanted her to be happy, wanted her to find someone that made her happy. She thinks Jim might be that someone. And the fact that Jim knew Mark, loved Mark, only makes her certainty stronger. Neither one of them will forget him. 

*** 

Jim had shown up just on time, not wanting to keep her waiting. He almost thought about showing up early, but didn’t want to seem overeager. He gets to her front porch just as she opens the door, quickly closing it behind her so Singer can’t come out.

She’s wearing another sundress, though this time it’s accompanied by a loose cardigan to combat the early autumn air. Her hair is curled and falling over her shoulders, he can tell she put more work into it than she usually does. He couldn’t believe that she was dressing up for him. That she had put in that extra work and made sure she looked nice because he was picking her up. He’s not sure he would ever get used to it. 

Pam beats him to a compliment, though, saying, “Well, you look nice.” 

He glances down at his olive-green button down and khaki pants, “Thank you, but you look... beautiful.” 

She does a half curtsey, though he can see a small blush rising on her cheeks. “Thank you.” 

He holds out his hand to lead her down the steps and watches her eyebrows furrow. “What happened to your band-aids?” 

“I took them off, my fingers are feeling better.” 

“Already?” She takes the hand that he’s holding out and he winces a little when she rubs her thumb across the still red skin. She chuckles, “Feeling better, huh? If I had known you were going to scrub your fingerprints off, I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“They’ll be fine, I promise.” 

“Hmm. Well,” He watches her pause, still looking at his fingers for a moment before glancing up at him. She raises his hand up and gently kisses his fingertips before sliding her palm into his. “Maybe that will help?” 

When he looks back on this moment, he isn’t sure how he didn’t pass out right there on her front lawn. It takes him a minute, but then he’s able to force out, “Yeah, maybe.” 

“You ready to go?” 

He clears his throat, “Whenever you are.” 

Brooklyn is quieter than they thought it would be, but neither are complaining. The restaurant Jim picked out was beautiful, especially where they sat on the back patio. They were close enough to the beach to hear the waves crashing in the distance, but far enough away that the ocean breeze wasn’t too cold. They split a bottle of wine, talked easily over dinner, and shared a slice of cake for dessert.  

As they walked out of the restaurant, Pam turns to him. “Where to next, Halpert?” 

“Not sick of me yet?” 

“Mm, I think I can handle you for a little bit longer.” 

He grins, “Alright. Just remember the drive back is two hours.” 

“Duly noted.” 

“Okay, c’mon. There’s a little bar down the road with live music.” 

He slips his fingers through hers and they walk along the quiet street until they reach a building with exposed brick walls, hardwood floors, and creaky doors. She had never been here, but remembers Mark telling her about this place, about how before he met her, him and Jim would come down here most weekends and try to pick up women, only to go back home together.  

The band that was playing was good, and apparently friends with Jim, as they waved to each other as she and him were sitting down.  

She nods towards the stage, “You know him?” 

“A little bit. We’ve crossed paths a couple of times while playing at bars like this.” 

They order their drinks, both deciding to go with a coke this time, and sip them as they talk and enjoy the music.  

Pam glances over at Jim. Although it was still a little weird to think that she was now dating him, she couldn’t hide the fact that it was going really well. He had rolled his sleeves up after dinner, which she loved when he did that, and he looked so much more comfortable than last night. So much more like Jim.

When he looked over and smiled at her, she had a gut feeling this was going to last.  

The music stopped and she watched as the guitarist came over to their table.  

“Hey, man, I’m taking a break. You wanna fill in for a few?” 

“Hey. Um, I would, but... I’m on a date.” 

“Oh, my bad. Sorry to interrupt.” 

Pam nudges Jim, “No, go ahead. Play something.” 

“Are you sure?” 

The fact that she can tell he obviously wants to, but turned it down just for her, has her nudging him forward again. “As long as you play Sweet Home Alabama.” 

He grins and stands up. “Your wish is my command, Beesly.” 

She watches him walk up to the stage, confidence in his step. He picks up the guitar and plucks a few of the strings, and she can see him switch to music mode. When he finishes tuning the guitar, he looks up at her and winks, and then starts playing the intro. 

The nice thing about bars is that most everyone is at least tipsy. So, Jim’s naturally out of tune voice doesn’t bother anyone, in fact, a few people even start cheering for him as he reaches the chorus. Pam watches from the table, unable to wipe the smile off of her face as she watches Jim do what he loves, and seeing everyone around her love him too.  

As he made his way back over to her after finishing the song, she watched as some patted his back, some high-fived him, others whooped as he walked by.  

“If I’m not careful, someone else is going to steal you from me.”

He laughs, “I’d like to see them try. Thank you for letting me do that.” 

“I should be thanking you, that was amazing. I didn’t actually think you would play Sweet Home Alabama, though.” 

“How could I deny you a show?” He glances up at the clock. “You ready to get out of here? It’s getting late.” 

She nods and gathers her things before they make their way to the bar to pay their tab. As Jim is pulling out his wallet, though, the bartender waves them off, telling them they’ve been paid for already. 

“One of your many fans, I guess.” 

*** 

They made it back to Pam’s house a couple of hours later, and though it really was getting late, Jim didn’t want the night to end just yet. He walked her to her door, trying to be near her for as long as possible, and then was surprised that instead of saying goodnight, she invited him in.  

“There’s probably an old movie on we can watch or something?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I mean, unless you want to go--” 

“No, no. I’d love to come in.” 

She lets him in, Singer greeting them at the door and making sure to get extra love before pushing past them into the yard. Pam watches him stare into the trees, bark once, and then start sniffing the ground. 

“What a strange dog.” 

She closes the door as Singer makes his way to the backyard and then goes into the kitchen to grab some water for both her and Jim.  

They couldn’t agree on a movie, so they settled on some sitcom that documents an office workplace in the UK. Three episodes in, Pam finally gives in to a yawn and Jim takes that as his cue to leave.  

Pam walks him to the door, fighting back another yawn. “Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Me too.” 

He slips on his shoes and grab his keys, and he thinks about trying to kiss her again, but isn’t sure after last night. He wants to take this at her speed, so even though he wants nothing more than to pull her close, he’ll wait until she’s ready. 

He turns to her, his hand on the door. “Have a good night, Pam.” 

He’s just about to turn the knob when she grabs his hand and pulls him to her. They pause for a second, her looking nervous but wanting, and he looking surprised but hopeful. She stands on her toes and he leans down and when their lips meet, he could swear that they’re the only two people in the world with how much of her instantly consumes him. Her featherlight touch on his arm competes with the electric pulse running through his body, and it’s almost whiplash when she finally pulls away.  

“Good night, Jim.” 

The next morning, Jim’s phone ringing wakes him up. He reaches for it, missing it twice before knocking it off the nightstand. He groans and finally forces himself up, picking up the phone just before it switches to voicemail. “Hello?”

“You awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, up and at ‘em!”

He looks at the clock, seeing a much earlier hour than he was accustomed to on a Saturday. Pam, however, sounded like she had been up for hours. 

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s the weekend! What do you have planned?”

“I did have sleeping in planned, but I’m guessing that’s not an option anymore?”

“Nope. Can you be ready in about an hour? I was going to bring Singer to the dog park and then I thought we could go to Nay Aug and hike around a bit. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds great.”

They spent a majority of the day walking around Nay Aug Park, hiking to the different waterfalls, and even spending some time in the Everhart Museum while Singer napped outside. When their stomachs were growling too much to ignore any longer, they ordered Chinese, which they ate in Jim’s truck in the parking lot, Jim sneaking Singer a few pieces of orange chicken, as if Pam couldn’t see him. 

They dropped Singer back at home before heading back out and going to see a movie. Jim let Pam pick, and although he didn’t necessarily enjoy the movie, Pam snuggling up to him halfway through it had him not uttering a single complaint. 

When he dropped her back off, she kissed him again. After their kiss last night, it was practically all she could think about. She had been a little worried about their first kiss, unsure how it would feel to kiss Jim after being friends with him for so long, but she found that she liked it. It didn’t hurt that he was a good kisser, too. 

On Sunday, they had spent the day at Pam’s house, Jim helping her fix all the little things she kept meaning to get to, but never did. He mowed the lawn, trimmed the bushes, and then moved inside to help her fix a creaky floorboard and get some locks to stop sticking. She watches as he replaces the bathroom light with a new one she had bought months ago, and finds herself appreciating his helping her but also how good he looked in just jeans and a t-shirt. 

She randomly kissed him while he was in the middle of testing the new light, and the look on his face when she pulled back told her exactly how he feels about her. She remembers how it used to scare her, but now she found herself craving it. 

***

She had only seen Jim for about ten minutes on Monday, and then none at all yet today. But, he promised to cook for her tonight if she could grab the ingredients. So, after a crazy day at work, Kelly had called out again leaving Pam with four additional students, she finds herself at the grocery store. She isn’t sure what Jim is planning to make tonight, but the combination of potato chips and dill pickles has her mildly concerned. 

She strolls down the spice aisle, trying to remember if Jim had asked for onion salt or onion powder, when her cart hits something. 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The man turns from his own browsing, saying, “Oh it’s fine.. Pam?”

“Oh, Roy! Hi.”

She hadn’t seen Roy since he left her house the morning after his breakdown, and he looks a little worse for the wear. Mostly tired, like he hadn’t slept much in the time since she last saw him. 

“How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?”

He shrugs, “Been better, but I’m alright. It’s just been hard, you know?”

“Yeah. How’s the hand, by the way?”

He lifts it up, looking at it as if he forgot anything had happened. “Oh, it’s fine. Still a little bruised, but it’s nothing.” He pauses. “About that night, I’m sorry for how I acted.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, and I really shouldn’t have reached for your door like that. And then you were still being kind enough to listen to me go on about my troubles, I really appreciate it.”

This time she shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

A woman walks down the aisle and Roy moves closer to Pam to let her pass by. They stand there for a moment before he says, “Listen, I feel like I owe you for that night. Can I take you out for dinner? Coffee?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and even she can hear the hesitation in her voice when she says, “I don’t know.”

“Just dinner. Nothing more, I promise.”

She offers him a small smile. “I’m sorry, Roy. I don’t think I can do that.”

He nods, looking a little disappointed but hiding it quickly with a smile. “No problem, just thought I’d offer. No hard feelings, then?”

“No hard feelings.”

“Great. Um, well, I still have a few things to grab, so I’ll see you around?”

“Sure.”

He takes a couple of steps backwards. “See ya, Pam.”

She gives a small wave as he disappears around the corner.

***

Roy sat on his bed in his darkened bedroom, thinking about his run in with Pam. She had tried to hide it, but he could easily see that she was disappointed to run into him. She was uncomfortable, wanted to be nice but also get away. He knew her so well, and she didn’t even know it.

For instance, he knows that she’s with Jim right now. She was still stuck in that feeling of comfort, of familiarity. She was afraid to try anything new, to step out of her comfort zone. Why should she take a risk, when Jim can provide the same mundane, but safe lifestyle she had always known?

But she had so much potential, and she would be wasting it if she stayed with Jim. He would only hold her back. She may be content, but she would miss out on so much. So much that he could give her if she just gave him another chance. 

It would take more than an offer of a friendly dinner to get her back. But he will. He just needed to get Jim out of the picture first. Nothing he hasn’t done before. 

He thinks back to one of his first foster homes. He lived in a house with two older boys, though he never interacted with them much. He wanted nothing more than a place to eat and sleep, so he focused more on his photography, having stolen a new camera from an old neighbor. Two months after he moved in, though, his camera had gone missing. It didn’t take him long to figure out who took it, and when he found out the two boys had sold it at a pawn shop in order to find cigarettes, he went looking for them. 

He found them smoking a few houses over, and when he picked up the baseball bat laying in the yard, they had just laughed at him. They were each taller and heavier than Roy, but it only took a couple of minutes for him to beat them unrecognizable. His social worker wanted to send him to a juvenile detention center after she found out, and brought the police with her as she went to pick him up. He was handcuffed and brought down to the station, but he was prepared for this. 

He was led into a back room with an officer who reminded him a little of his dad, but bigger and balder. All the easier to lie to. 

“You almost killed those boys, do you realize that?”

Roy held his head down and nodded solemnly.

The officer sighs, “You’re going to be spending the next several years locked up, son.”

That’s when he puts on the waterworks. He hides his face in his hands and apologizes, over and over again. 

“I didn’t want to do it,” Roy said through sobs. “But they were going to kill me. They stole my camera and I told them I was gonna report them, and they threatened me. They attacked me,” he lifted his shirt to reveal a large gash on his side, “so I had to fight back. I was so scared.”

Roy went to the hospital as well, and once they were cleared, the other boys ended up in the detention center. They tried to plead innocent, but the pawn shop owner confirmed it was them who sold him the camera, and the knife that cut Roy was found on the roof of a neighbor’s house; exactly where Roy had told the police the boys had thrown it. 

Cutting himself with the knife was easy, Roy remembered. Deep enough to have his story seem realistic, but not too deep to where he would actually injure himself. 

And then, a few years later when he was in high school, he met Miss Daniels, the school counselor. He had been required to see her at first, but she had taken a special interest in Roy, and he knew he could use it to his advantage. 

She was nice, pretty enough, and, most importantly, thought Roy was a victim. Of course he was troubled, she would say. He grew up with awful, abusive parents, and then had to be sent off to different foster homes, in which he would get bullied endlessly there too. He would tell her stories, some true, some made up, as he sat in her office each week. 

She had bonded to him. Gifted him a new camera, a 35-millimeter with a better lens than he had ever had, which he still has to this day. He gave her a card for her birthday, a small ornament at Christmas, a random thank you letter, if only to make her believe that he cared for her as much as she did for him. 

She helped him create a portfolio for his photographs, paying for all of the materials and giving him passes to miss class so they could work on it. She wrote him recommendation letters to colleges, and even went with him to a couple to help persuade them to give him a chance. She did everything she could for him, and was so proud when she learned that all of her hard work had paid off, even if Roy wasn’t the one who told her. 

Because as soon as he heard he had gotten accepted to college, he stopped talking to Miss Daniels. She had served her purpose, and now he was done with her. 

The same was with Jim. He had served his purpose to Pam, and now it was time for her to be done with him. He would help her get rid of him, so that they can both move on with their lives. 

***

Jim had made her Creole burgers Tuesday night, though Pam thought they were more like sloppy joes than burgers. Pam cooked for Jim Wednesday night, serving salmon, roasted asparagus, and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc on the side. 

“It’s no Creole burgers,” Jim had teased, “but I guess it’ll do.”

On Thursday, they went out to lunch together, and then Jim said he had a surprise for her after work that night.

“Putt-putt?”

Jim had just pulled into the parking lot of the local mini golf place, which was the last place Pam had expected. At least now she understood why he said to not bother getting changed after work. 

“There’s also arcade games and batting cages.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Exciting.”

“What? Scared you won’t win?”

“Oh, no, you don’t stand a chance.”

He laughs, “Bring it on.”

They get their clubs and balls and make their way to the first hole. Pam lets Jim go first, and he manages to get it through the windmill and only a few inches away from the hole.

“Not bad, Halpert.”

Pam lines up her shot, and on her first try, knocks it off the wooden blades and it comes right back to her. Jim chuckles and she glares at him before putting the ball back in place. This time it makes it through, and she watches it slowly go towards the hole until it drops down. 

“Lucky shot,” Jim says, gently elbowing her as he walks past to hit his in. 

“I feel like I’m getting hustled.”

They were almost done, currently lining up at the second to last hole. Jim was behind by one, though he held onto the little scoreboard, and he wouldn’t tell her who was winning. He hit his ball and it bounced off the edge, landing behind a rock. He groans as she lines up, hitting it no more than a foot away from the hole. 

She shrugs. “It just took me a little bit to warm up.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Are you mad that a girl’s beating you?”

“Hey, you don’t know who’s winning! Besides, you’re just getting really lucky.”

She watches him hit the ball from behind the rock, though he’s still a few feet away. She taps hers in next and does a curtsey, and he rolls his eyes in response, though she can see the smile he’s trying to hide. 

She follows him to the last hole after he knocks his ball in with two more shots, and he lines it up. He’s getting ready to swing when she quickly steps over, lifts his chin up with her fingers, and kisses him gently. 

“Good luck,” she says as she takes a couple of steps backwards so she’s out of the way. 

He stares at her for a moment before remembering what they were doing and he laughs. “Okay, that was just mean.”

She giggles as the blush on his cheeks grows redder. He shakes his head and sets up to hit his ball again. Miraculously, he gets a hole in one. 

He smirks at her, “All skill, baby.”

She laughs, “Don’t count your chickens yet.”

She sinks it in two and watches him tally up the final score. “So?”

He clears his throat. “It doesn’t matter. It was really close.”

“Who won??”

“I think we’re both winners here, really.”

“C’mon, who won? Just tell me.”

“I did.”

She squints at him, watches his mouth twitch and the top of his ears get red. “Liar.”

“No I’m not!”

“Let me see it.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Nope. Hand it over.”

He groans and finally hands it to her and she sees she beat him by one. “Ha!” She throws the mini pencil at his chest. “You are a liar! I won!”

“You may have won mini golf, but I won the better prize.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He holds her waist and leans down to kiss her. 

Jim drops her off about an hour later, and she goes inside just as the phone starts to ring. She glances at the clock on the wall. It’s getting late, so it’s probably Karen calling. She had been trying to call more often lately to talk about Pam and Jim, and if Pam was being honest, she loved it. It was nice to share what was going on with someone else. 

She quickly discards her purse and shoes before making her way to the phone. 

“Hello?”

There was no reply, though the line was still open. 

“Hello??”

Still nothing, so she hangs up and puts the phone back down. 

Probably a wrong number, she thought as she went to the back door to let Singer out. As soon as she opened the door, the phone rang again, and she hurried back to answer it again. 

Still no answer. 

This time, though, she swore she heard a quiet exhale just before the line dropped. 

***

“How are things going with Pam?”

It was Friday morning and Danny stood next to Jim as he worked on a car. The weather was slowly getting colder, so more and more people were coming in to get their heaters replaced or tuned up. He had three cars come in yesterday and already has four scheduled for today, but he liked being busy, especially when Danny was trying to get information out of him. 

“Good.”

“You guys have been going out a lot, I would hope it’s going better than that.”

Jim shrugs, trying to look more interested in the car than Danny’s questions. Things with Pam have been great, even better than Jim had ever thought it could be, but he liked having the upper hand over Danny for once.

“I heard you made her dinner a few nights ago.”

“Yup.”

“How’d that go?”

“Good.”

Danny sighs and Jim has to put his head further into the car to hide his smile. 

“Well,” Danny says after a minute, “Karen and I were gonna borrow Uncle Johnny’s boat and go to the lake next weekend, did you guys wanna join?”

“I’ll have to check with Pam, but yeah, that sounds like fun.”

“Alright.” Danny turns and starts walking back to his office. “Better not ditch us, Karen is bringing her homemade macaroni salad.”

***

“You’re glowing.”

“Shut up, I am not. I’ve just been getting more sun.”

Friday also brought on a busy day for Pam, but she was in between students when Jo started asking about Jim. 

“Whatever you say, darlin’. Y’all are tied to the hip these days.”

She wasn’t wrong. Pam had found a new rhythm with Jim. She stopped by the garage in the morning with coffee for them, he stopped by the studio in the afternoon to pick her up for lunch, and then they spent most evenings going out somewhere. She had never been so busy, but she loved it. 

Pam blushes, though. She knew she had been spending a lot of time with Jim, but for some reason she hadn’t really expected anyone else to notice. She should have known better than to think Jo wouldn’t, though. 

“Yeah. We’re having fun.”

Jo smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Having fun, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Jo!”

“I ain’t judgin’, honey. You guys have been going out for what? Two weeks now? It's about time you two—“

“Shh!”

Kelly was walking out of the back room with some of her students just then, and she gave Pam her own small smirk. 

Pam’s face is now crimson as she whispers, “No. We haven’t— I haven’t— no.”

“Well, then, what are you waiting for?”

Pam had thought about when they would take the next step. When the magical third date with Jim came and went, she realized that neither one of them had made any notion about going forward physically. 

After Mark had died, she had basically accepted a life of abstinence. The thought of kissing someone else, let alone sleeping with them, was so far from her mind for so long that by the time she did start dating again, she got startled when Toby had leaned in. 

But she’s gotten a little more warmed up in the dating game, and now that she was actually with someone, the thought of going further with Jim had crossed her mind a couple of times. It was really just a matter of time before it happened, and she wasn’t entirely upset at the idea. 

Pam about to reply when Kelly says, “Oh, hi Roy!”

Both Pam and Jo turn to the door at the same time, and sure enough, there’s Roy. Singer had stood up as soon as he walked in, and now he walks over and sits right next to Pam. Roy greets Kelly as he removes his sunglasses but then looks right at Pam and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.” She was trying to be polite, but this was the second time this week she had run into him, and this time he had obviously known she would be here. “What did you need?”

“Oh, uh, you remember that job I told you about? The one we’re trying to get down in Austin? Turns out the client is a huge fan of local artists. I thought maybe you could show me around so I could pick something out for him? You know, so I can butter him up and all that.”

“Sorry, I have a student coming in any minute.”

“I could wait? Or come back after?”

She shakes her head. “I’m booked all day.”

Roy frowns a little. “No breaks?” 

“Nope.”

“I can show you around, Roy.”

Kelly had appeared beside them, giving her sweetest smile. 

Roy glanced back at Pam once more before saying, “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kelly.”

Pam waited until they walked away before breathing out a small sigh of relief. Jo looks at her questioningly, but doesn’t ask. 

At five o’clock, Pam’s last student had just walked out. She locks the door behind them, and then starts straightening up. 

She’s putting some pens and brushes away at reception when she glances over and spots a pair of sunglasses. She immediately recognizes them as Roy’s, and she frowns. For a second she considers calling him to let him know he forgot them, but then decides against it. It’s probably better if Jo or Kelly calls him. 

Pam was hurrying home about an hour later, after having to run to the store for a few things she forgot to grab for dinner. Jim was supposed to be there soon, and she wanted to have dinner at least almost done before he arrived. 

As she stumbles inside, her arms full of grocery bags and a bag of Singer’s food, her phone starts ringing. She drops the bag of dog food on the floor just inside the door and places the bags on the counter before picking up the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Pam.”

Pam closed her eyes, holding in the sigh of frustration she wanted so bad to let out. She really had no real reason to be rude, but she was getting the feeling that he wasn’t moving on, and she really didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 

“Hi, Roy.”

“How are you?”

“You know, same as earlier.”

“Right. Um, well, you’re probably wondering why I’m calling.”

“Kind of.” 

“I was wondering if you had happened to see a pair of sunglasses? I think I left them at the studio, near the register. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, I saw them before I left. They’re on the desk, you can pick them up on Monday.”

“You’re not open tomorrow?”

“No, Jo doesn’t believe in working weekends.”

“Hmm. Okay. Well, I’m going out of town this weekend and was really hoping I could get them before I left. Any chance you could let me in to grab them real quick? Two minutes of your time, I swear.”

Pam rolled her eyes. She knew he had left them there on purpose in order to have an excuse to call her, but now he wanted her to drive back into town for some sunglasses? This time she does sigh, not caring that he can hear her. 

“I’m sorry, but this is enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop. I’m seeing someone else.”

“I just wanted my glasses back.”

“You can get them on Monday. Goodbye, Roy.”

She heard him say, “Wait, Pam—“ before she hung up the phone, but she didn’t care. If he didn’t get the hint before, he must have now. 

Singer looks at her and she glares at him.

“Alright, maybe you were right not to like him, okay? Stop looking so smug.”

She swore he smirked before trotting along to the kitchen. 

***

He pulls into her driveway and grabs the small bouquet he had picked up for her on the way over. He knocks twice before opening the door and peeking in. 

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Her voice comes from upstairs. “Come on up, I’m just finishing getting ready.”

He slips off his shoes and then heads upstairs, greeting Singer at the top. He finds her in the bathroom, putting some makeup on. 

She’s in jeans and a flowy blouse, her hair curled a little neater than usual, and she’s putting on some pink lip gloss as he watches her from the doorway. They’re staying in tonight, so the effort she’s putting into her appearance is all for him, and he almost feels the need to pinch himself. 

He had fallen in love with Pam a while ago, but it felt different now. Now she wasn’t just a fantasy, but she’s real, and she likes him, and she gets dressed up just for him. He still gets a little nervous that this could all disappear, but then she’s smiling at him and his nerves vanish. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, these are for you.” He hands her the flowers and she smells them before leaning in to kiss him quickly. 

“These are beautiful. I’ll go find a vase. The potatoes and carrots are almost done, but the steak has a little bit longer to go. Do you want a beer?”

“Sure.”

They make their way downstairs and Pam gets a wine glass down from the cabinet before going into the fridge for a beer. Jim pours her some wine, while she fills a vase with water and takes the vegetables out of the oven, and then they go out to the deck, Singer walking past them to go to the woods.

They sit in the lawn chairs Pam had set up earlier, and for a moment they just enjoy the night. Jim looks at Pam and he wonders how he had gotten so lucky. 

They fell into easy conversation. Jim said he had seen Roy at the studio that afternoon and asked what he had wanted, so Pam told him about that and then the phone call she received from him once she got home. Jim was frustrated that Roy clearly couldn’t take a hint, but Pam assured him it was nothing. 

They talked about going on the boat with Danny and Karen next weekend, about how Pam thinks Kelly has a crush on Roy, and whether or not they think their plans to go to Philly this weekend will get canceled because of a storm coming in.

Pam eventually went inside to make a salad while Jim finished up the steaks on the grill. He plated them and then headed inside, pausing in the doorway as he admires her work. 

She had dimmed the lights and added the vase of flowers as well as two candles that were now flickering in the middle of the table. 

“What do you think?”

He looks at her, and if he wasn’t in love with her before, he certainly was now. The way her eyes almost glittered in the candlelight, her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for his response, how she toyed with her fingers like she always does when she’s nervous, as if he could think anything she did was anything less than wonderful. 

“This is amazing.”

He kept his gaze on her as he said it, and he saw that she noticed. He set the steaks down on the table before walking towards her. Her eyes never left his as he made his way around the table, and the only time they did leave was when he was in front of her, and then it was only to glance down at his lips. 

He brought his hand up and held her cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against it. She leaned into his touch, and then after a moment he finally leaned down and kissed her. 

***

She had seen the way he was looking at her all night. He was respectful and tried not to stare, but she had seen it. So, she set out the flowers and the candle, hoping it would give him the final nudge. 

She was glad it worked. 

He had led her upstairs and they undressed each other quickly. She was nervous, and could tell that he was too, but she was ready. 

Their first time wasn’t earth-shattering, both of them too concerned about making sure the other was okay and satisfied, but it was way better than she had anticipated. The second time was perfect, now that the awkwardness and nerves had mostly been pushed aside. 

They lay next to each other now, Jim playing with one of her curls as she lays against his chest. After a moment she lifts her head up and looks at him, and when he kisses her forehead, that is the moment she realizes she has fallen in love with him. 

She lifts her hand and runs the tip of her thumb across his lip and then she kisses him gently. When she pulls back she whispers, “I love you.”

His eyes widen just a little before a smile spreads across his lips. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear that.” 

She smiles too and kisses him again. “You know what else I love?”

“Hmm?”

“The frozen burritos I have in my freezer.”

He laughs, his head falling back onto the pillows. “Alright, I get the hint.” 

He sits up and leans over to grab his pants when the phone on her nightstand rings. He lets it ring a couple of times before picking up. “Hello?”

A pause.

“Hello?”

She closes her eyes, a pit growing in her stomach. She prays that he doesn’t say it a third time.

“Hello??”

She hears the phone go back into the receiver and she looks over at him. 

“Probably a wrong number.”

That’s what she had thought too. 

The phone starts to ring again and this time she sits up when he answers it, only to be met with silence again.

It probably meant nothing, she told herself, but even Jim was looking at her confused. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep her nerves in check. 

Probably some kids prank calling her.

Or an elderly woman who doesn’t know how to work the phone. 

It’s nothing.

Right?

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of deja vu as the same feeling she had when she visited Mark’s grave washed over her. 

Jim kisses the top of her head before disappearing from the bedroom, and now that she was alone, she glances out of the open window. 

Someone is watching her.