Michael sat alone in his condo not watching an old western. Two empty cans of Miller Lite sat before him. He gripped a full one in his hand. He rubbed his temple with his left hand; squeezed the can in his right until it made a crumpling noise.

Nine dates.

Carol was the better choice. She had kids, she had agreed to a second date, and she understood the intricacies of his relationship with Jan. She just got him. Nine dates and he had proposed to her. It was suddenly crystal clear that he should have waited for number ten.

She drove, taking random rights and lefts, trying to outrun the aching pain in her chest. When she ended up in front of her old apartment, it took all her strength not to let go of the wheel. The light inside was warm and familiar. There was no ambiguity; she knew she was welcome. She could step inside and pick up the pieces of her old life like nothing had ever happened.

Instead, she drove away. She had fancy new pieces in her fancy new life. Pam still had faith that she’d find the glue to put them back together.

Six months later and he still couldn’t get the words right. Neither could she. He watched as the taillights disappeared from view. It had only taken eight hours to descend back into the hell he’d run from.

Except this was a new kind of hell and he had dragged someone else into it.

There were options. He could disappear into the night and take that trip to Australia. He could head west and just keep driving. Maybe Josh could get him a job at Staples.

He walked into Cooper’s, wondering if Karen would stay in Scranton after he told her.

Her little mittened hand waved at him as her mother ushered her into the house. The construction paper turkey with the rainbow colored tail feathers lay on the empty seat. As he drove away he told himself his eyes were watering because he’d been staring for too long at the computer screen at work today.

The market was crowded but he took his six-pack and turkey pot pie through the express lane in no time. Only later, when he brought the paper turkey into the house did he notice that she had written “Love you Daddy! Sasha” on the back.

He was expected somewhere tonight. When his mother had asked him to come the day before to help her move tables and peel apples for the pies, he’d been looking forward to spending the night, eating some of her good home cooking, and even watching the stupid parade in the morning with his dad. But then he remembered there would be relatives there he hadn’t seen since the wedding had been called off.

He figured he could just as easily drive up tomorrow if he asked his brother to help his mom tonight. He let Darryl buy him another beer.

He shuffled along, sliding his tray down the rails, accepting the sloshes of food that came with the turkey. Slosh of potatoes, slosh of gravy, big slosh of cranberry sauce. He liked cranberry sauce a lot.

He grabbed a roll and took the first seat he saw. The guy sitting there spoke to him. He looked familiar. Bob? Bill? What the hell was his name?

He wondered idly if his brother was still alive. He hadn’t seen him in years. He shrugged.

Creed ate quickly to make his seat available. Thanksgiving was a busy day at the Scranton soup kitchen.

The door was open and he had one foot out it when it suddenly slammed closed on him. He could've emptied his desk and been halfway to New York by the time Meredith got through her first cocktail.

He had Kelly convinced that it was all for the best until the call came and their fortunes turned. Not that he didn’t like her, but he couldn’t remember ever making a conscious choice to be with her. One day, they just were.

He knocked at the front door and one of her sisters answered. He hoped her dad liked pumpkin pie.

Kenny is snoring.
 
Somehow, Roy lifts his head, peering over the coffee table. He chucks an empty beer can at his brother who snorts, rolls over, and passes out again.
 
He grabs his head tightly hoping the pressure will dull the pain and wishes that the parts of the night that he can’t remember included everything Pam told him. One long swig finishes the bottle of whiskey cradled in his arms. Drifting off again, he sees her in the blue dress, kissing Jim.
 
Kenny had mentioned taking a road trip. Roy suspects that what he needs isn’t in Scranton anymore.

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

Karen’s jaw is hanging open. His eye is swollen shut and his knuckles are scraped.

“What happened?” she finally manages.

“You should see the other guy,” he smiles. Then winces.

She takes the ice pack from him. “Tell me.” It’s not a request.

“Just a misunderstanding. Something that should’ve happened almost a year ago.”

“Oh, Jim.”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.”

“This won’t happen again?”

“No. He’s gotten it out of his system.”

“Have you?”

He knows exactly what she means. He looks deep into her eyes and she believes him when he says she’s the only one for him.

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

“I can’t.”

Jim's words are ringing in her ears and the déjà vu that washes over her almost makes her dizzy. The universe had a cruel sense of irony. It had taken her whole life to notice, but there it was.

He’s staring at her now, gauging her reaction.

“I knew it was too late,” she laughs bitterly, “It was always too late but I hoped we could work it out someday.”

“Our timing isn’t very good,” he says sadly.

“No,” is all she can manage.

Pam’s the one walking away from him this time but it isn’t any easier.