Birthday Cake

Jim’s parents had always allowed him to stay home from school on his birthdays when he was a kid. He knew, of course, that the expiration date on being entitled to spend the day goofing-off like that had long since passed. Unfortunately, once you’d had twenty-eight of them, birthdays just weren’t that big a deal. He had to admit, however, that the grown-up variety did offer certain advantages. For instance, he’d enjoyed the creative way Pam had woken him up that morning far more than anything he remembered from his childhood festivities.

Still, Jim couldn’t help feeling it was a little unfair when he had to spend most of the day held hostage in the conference room, reviewing sales figures with the accounting department. Being ‘Ranking Number Two’ had some distinct drawbacks. Especially on days when ‘Number One’ wasn’t inclined to do anything he was supposed to. When the meeting had run through lunch, Jim felt doubly cheated. He’d hoped that he and Pam could at least sneak away for an hour alone. Instead, he wound up eating lukewarm take-out pizza, while Angela harangued him about using outdated forms and tallying something or other in some precise but obscure way.

After enduring several hours of this torture, Jim had returned to his desk to find himself rewarded with an endless series of phone messages and emails. Almost all from indignant clients with problems that needed to be solved. Now. Late delivery. Wrong quantity, color, finish. Invoices for higher prices than he’d supposedly quoted. By the time Pam collected him to leave at the end of the day, he was in a foul mood, to say the least.

‘Come on, birthday boy. Let’s go cheer you up,’ she said, kissing him on his cheek as she handed him his coat.

‘You have your work cut out for you,’ he warned her.

Jim should have known better than to underestimate Pam’s magical restorative powers. As soon as her fingers closed around his as they walked to his car, he could feel the day’s aggravations already beginning to recede. She took him to their favorite Thai restaurant and insisted on ordering all the really spicy stuff he usually couldn’t persuade her to try. She even claimed to like it.

As they ate, she described an idea she’d been devising as an antidote to the accounting hell that had consumed his day. It involved convincing Dwight that Michael had been abducted and replaced by his evil twin.

‘And, of course, Dwight is the only one who can expose the deception and rescue Michael,’ Jim finished her thought.

‘Naturally,’ she smiled.

“Stolen identities, bizzaro Michael…breaking new ground, Beesly.’

Between the sound of Pam’s laughter, and two beers, he felt like a new man. Spreadsheets were but a distant memory.

As they finished, Pam announced she had something for him at home.

‘Intriguing,’ he replied.

‘I’ll give you a hint: it involves something edible.’

‘I thought you’d taken care of that this morning,’ he grinned at her.

‘Oh, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve,’ she replied, cryptically.

Jim raised his eyebrows and stared at her. A couple of possibilities came to mind. All good.

‘Check, please!’ he immediately called to the waiter.

When they got back to her apartment, Pam went directly into the kitchen, sending Jim to wait in the living room. He pulled off his tie and jacket, opened the top buttons of his shirt and flopped down, exhausted, on the sofa.

‘Okay, close your eyes,’ she finally called giddily.

He did as he was told. Without even seeing her, he could sense her excitement just by the sound of her approaching footsteps.

‘Ta-da!’

Jim opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him, beaming at him and holding a cake. It was obviously homemade, a little lopsided with a lit candle at its center. She proceeded to sing Happy Birthday. Badly. Perfectly.

‘Wow. When did you do this?’ he asked, laughing in amazement as he blew out the candle.

‘Last night while you were out playing basketball. I was actually kind of worried you were going to find it when you got back here,’ she said, running back to get plates and utensils.

Pam cut him a ridiculously large piece. He responded by taking a ridiculously huge bite. He was ridiculously in love.

‘So that’s why you jumped up out of bed and got me something to drink when I said I was thirsty,’ he said, finally managing to swallow.

‘Exactly. I didn’t want you looking in the fridge.’

‘Damn. And I thought you’d suddenly gone subservient,’ he smirked at her. ‘Or were just looking for an excuse to parade around in that skimpy thing you were wearing – which you should feel free to do anytime, by the way.’

‘Oh really,’ she countered, breaking off a piece of cake with her fingers and nibbling off a bit before placing it in Jim’s mouth. ‘What would you say you like more, skimpy…or nothing?’

‘I like it all,’ he replied, licking the chocolate off his lips. ‘But tonight is obviously a birthday suit kind of night.’

‘Hey, it’s your birthday, not mine.’

‘Okay, fine. I’ve been thinking we ought to start wearing matching outfits anyway,’ he grinned at her. ‘In fact, that’s what I wished for when I blew out the candle.’

‘Well, your wish is my command…how’s that for subservient?’

‘Nice…hey, this is a great cake, Pam,’ he continued enthusiastically, taking another big bite for emphasis. ‘Weird thing is, it’s just like the one my mom used to make me.’

‘I know,’ Pam exclaimed, clearly pleased he’d noticed. ‘She told me she always made you a devil’s food cake for your birthday because you were such a sweet little demon,’ she paused long enough for him to cringe on cue.

‘So I called her for the recipe,’ she finished.

Despite his requisite embarrassment at his mother’s comments, Jim was immediately struck by what Pam had just casually told him. Calling his mother, like it was the most unremarkable thing in the world; assuming he’d come back to her place at night, after his basketball game. It was as if these seemingly insignificant details suddenly carried more weight than their most dramatic declarations. The extraordinarily unattainable had finally become ordinary. And Pam had somehow managed to bake this elusive gift right into a chocolate cake.

She smiled quizzically at him and he realized he was staring at her. Reaching out and putting his hand against her cheek, he leaned forward and kissed away a tiny smudge of frosting at the corner of her mouth. Then let his tongue glide slowly over her lips, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Just to make sure he wasn’t imagining this.

‘I guess it’s time for the birthday suits then?’

‘Definitely,’ he replied, pulling her onto his lap. ‘You go first.’

Pam laughed and settled against him, putting her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair. Jim’s mouth found hers again. And again. She tasted miraculously familiar. And so much better than chocolate.

Not a bad birthday.

Rebound

Pam loved to watch Jim play basketball. She’d occasionally seen him play in pick-up games in the park near their apartment, and it was obvious he had talent. Though she never would have known that from hearing him talk about it.

‘Mad skillz, Beesly,’ he’d joke, self-deprecatingly, if she complimented him on a shot he made.

She also remembered the game in the warehouse a couple of years earlier. She’d felt almost intoxicated watching Jim move around the ‘court’ that day. It had been like a stolen glimpse of a side of him to which she wasn’t usually privy. That was about sheer physicality and movement and raw competitiveness. And even aggression, which she now realized had mostly been about Roy. At the time it had taken her by surprise, but unexpectedly thrilled her too.

It wasn’t until Pam had started watching Jim play every week in the league he’d organized with some of his old college friends that she’d fully realized how good he was. He was a natural athlete, clearly the best player on the team. She found herself feeling proud of him, like she wanted to tell the other girlfriends and wives in the stands that he belonged to her.

Watching Jim use his body like that fascinated her, now that she was highly aware of how he used it in other regards. She loved how in command he seemed as he ran swiftly and decisively around the court. Loved how he handled the ball, like he had some magical control over it. She knew very well how magically deft those hands could be. She loved when he’d search for her in the stands and lock eyes for an instant as he glided by. Loved how he’d trot over to her for his water bottle during time-outs, breathing hard and looking flushed and damp and just slightly wild. It wasn’t a far stretch to imagine him in another, very different, but blissfully familiar situation.

Pam especially liked when he’d unselfconsciously grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up to wipe his face. For just a second, an expanse of skin would be exposed and the thin line of soft hair that descended from his chest over his smooth stomach, before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts, would be visible. It wasn’t as if she didn’t see Jim without his shirt – without anything, for that matter – on a daily basis. But, there was something about being surrounded by strangers and catching that brief, out-of-context glimpse of him that simply undid her. He was, of course, just doing what came naturally, oblivious to its effect. Which only made it that much more potent.

When the game ended that night, Jim came to collect her to go home. The hair over his forehead and at the back of his neck was slick with sweat and his t-shirt clung to him. It was a good look. He pulled on the jacket she handed him and took a long swig of water.

‘You’ve got some serious game, Halpert,’ Pam said, as they walked out of the gym.

‘Obviously,’ he replied, raising his eyebrows at her.

‘No, I mean it. You should have kept playing after high school…we could have been living the high life by now.’

‘Yeah, right,’ he snorted. ‘And what, miss out on the excitement of the paper business?’

‘True. It would’ve been a hard trade-off.’

‘Maybe I could have lead a double life…paper salesman by day, NBA star by night. We could have had the best of both worlds.’

‘Seriously though Jim,’ Pam continued, ‘you really did play well.’

‘It was a good night…couple of nice rebounds, huh?’

‘Well,’ she couldn’t resist, ‘you’ve always had a talent for those.’

‘Oh, shit. Here we go,’ Jim groaned. ‘I totally set myself up for that.’

‘Just saying.’

‘Mmmm hhmmm.’

‘Kind of a rebound king, if I recall.’

‘As opposed to, say, being the uncontested Queen of Denial for three consecutive years, Beesly?’ he smirked. ‘No contest.’

‘Ouch,’ she conceded, laughing. ‘Okay, you win…this round.’

“I totally won everything…and don’t think I don’t know that,’ he said, catching her by the wrist and reeling her in for a kiss. ‘God, I love you.’

‘I love you more.’

‘You are so fucking competitive.’

They got in the car and Jim started to pull out of the parking lot. Pam watched him as he steered with one hand, and pushed his now completely unruly hair out of his eyes with the other. Resistance was futile. Her hands had assumed a mind of their own.

‘You are not making it easy to drive, Pam,’ he protested, half-heartedly swatting her away.

‘Sorry, can’t help it. I just really like watching you play,’ she said, reveling in the way she could still make him blush. ‘You know, watching you…move.’

‘And know what else I like?’ she continued mischievously, egged on by his reaction. ‘Feeling you move.’

‘Oh Jesus. I’m not kidding, Pam’ he said, squirming in his seat as her hands continued to wander mercilessly.

She stifled the giggle she felt coming on. Seeing Jim lose his cool like this was utterly irresistible.

‘If you keep this up, you’re going to make me drive off the road,’ he warned.

‘Well, I’m not the one who seems to be keeping it up…’ she smirked at him.

‘You are so looking for it,’ he snorted as he grabbed her hand, which was now in a place it had no business being while he was driving.

‘Exactly… okay, I’ll stop, but just until we get home.’ she conceded, putting her hands back in her lap.

‘Fine. You can resume your regularly scheduled program of manhandling and talking dirty to me then.’

‘If you insist.’

‘Oh, I do,’ he assured her. ‘There’s no way you’re not finishing what you started.’

‘Good. Let’s get you home and into a bath.’

Despite his concerns for driving safely, Jim drove through two stop signs and made it home in record time. A very long, very thorough, bath ensued.

Engagement Party

‘Are we really going to do this?’ he asks, grinning broadly, as if he still can’t quite believe this is actually happening.

‘Do what?’ she replies, feigning ignorance.

He just looks at her. They’ve been lying together in the dark long enough that his eyes have adjusted and he has no trouble seeing her attempt to keep a straight face.

‘Oh that,’ she says finally. ‘Why, have you changed your mind?’

‘And back out of marrying the person I’ve been in love with for years? Who’d do a thing like that?’

She makes a sound that’s half way between a grunt and a giggle, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

‘What should we do…I mean, what kind of wedding do you want?’ she asks, lazily running her fingers back and forth over his chest.

‘I have no idea…you’re the one with an advanced degree in wedding planning.’

She gives him a quick shove. He pulls her closer. There’s no such thing as close enough.

‘How about we hold it outdoors, at Dwight’s farm?’ he suggests.

‘Oh, perfect. With an all-beet menu…and Cousin Mose playing his fiddle when I walk up the aisle.’

‘Exactly. Dwight could get ordained online to perform the service, Angela could be your Maid of Honor...’

‘You know,’ she cuts him off. ‘It was working for me until you brought Angela into it.’

They just lie there silently for a few minutes, her head on his shoulder, his hands lightly stroking her back. It’s a warm night and they’ve pushed the sheets and blankets to the foot of the bed. All clothing has long since been scattered around the room. It’s just them. Together. Entangled. Happy.

‘Seriously, whatever you want is fine with me,’ he says quietly after a while, his tone no longer teasing. ‘I just want to marry you.’

When he says things like that, she could just kiss him. So she does. Repeatedly and with great enthusiasm.

‘Hey, know what I just noticed?’ she exclaims, leaving him slightly breathless as she comes up for air. ‘This ring even sparkles in the dark.’

To demonstrate, she rotates her wrist above their heads, catching the light from the streetlamps that filters dimly through the windows.

‘See?’ she marvels. ‘My last one didn’t do that.’

‘Maybe that’s because the diamond was microscopic,’ he retorts.

‘Oh, you are so bad,’ she tries, unsuccessfully, to suppress a laugh.

‘But good too, right?’ he smirks, flipping them over and pinning her against the bed with her hands held above her head.

‘Good? Not sure if I recall.’

‘That’s strange. Because when you kept screaming ‘Yes!’ about an hour ago, I kind of took it as an affirmation…and I still have the fingernail marks on my back to prove it.’

She squirms a little, trying to evade his grasp. She doesn’t try too hard.

‘Sorry, still no idea what you’re referring to,’ she replies, giggling as she looks up and fixes his gaze. ‘Maybe you need to refresh my memory …and I do not scream.’

‘Christ, Pam,’ he says, more than ready and willing to provide an instant replay. ‘Being married to you is going to be exhausting…. not to mention, very loud.’

He doesn’t let her hands go until he’s slid too far down her body to reach them any longer.

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

She first becomes aware of his arms, holding her closely from behind. He feels warm and firm, molded around her like a protective cocoon. She inhales the scent of him; it still makes her dizzy. His face is nuzzled into her neck, fingers spanning her stomach, thumb curled against the underside of her breast. When she sinks back into him, he makes a quiet contented sound and easily adjusts his position to fit hers. Just like he always does. And god, he feels good.

She glances at the clock. Already almost noon. Almost half of their first day as an engaged couple has now been spent in a horizontal celebration. Except for that time against the wall last night, after barely making it through the front door when they came home. That was vertical. She’d wrapped her legs around him and held on as he moved, watching the shiny new ring on her finger threading through his hair.

When she can finally bring herself to exert any energy, she turns over to face him. And finds him gazing hazily at her, almost like he’s intoxicated.

‘Hey,’ she grins sleepily.

‘Hi,’ he replies, finding her mouth with his.

She loves the way he kisses her when they first wake up in the morning. She’s always been one for routine. And this is a particularly good one.

She snuggles into him and her mind begins to scat around, as it tends to do when she’s had so little sleep. She thinks of how very different things were, just a year ago. When the last thing she would have predicted was waking up with him every morning.

‘Hey, Jim?’

‘Hmmm?’

He lets his hands roam gently over her body. Just in case he’d missed an inch of skin the previous night. Which hardly seems likely.

‘How often did you used to think of me…you know, like this…before we were together?’

‘A lot.’

‘How much is a lot?’

Pulling back slightly, he just stares at her, raising his eyebrows in his patented ‘oh, come on’ expression. The bemused version, not the annoyed one.

‘Weekly?’ she persists.

No reply. Just the look.

‘Daily?’

Still no reply.

‘Hourly?’

He narrows his eyes as if considering this.

‘Depended on the day,’ he said, finally.

‘Wow,’ she says, in awe. ‘You were even worse off than I thought.’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t pretty, Beesly…And you know the worst part? If I’d spent all that time working instead of imagining you in compromising positions, I could’ve been a captain of the paper industry by now.’

“I am so sorry, Jim,’ she replies dolefully. “How am I going to going to make that up to you?”

In lieu of answering, he scoops her up and moves her so she’s straddling him. She’s a very resourceful girl. He’s sure she’ll think of something.

‘All that time wasted, wondering what I looked like naked, huh?’ she asks, sitting up and leaning back against his bent knees.

‘I guess that explains the insatiable appetite, anyway,’ she concludes, her breath catching as he runs his hands from her thighs, up to her breasts.

‘Well, I need my nourishment, Pam. I’m a growing boy.’

‘Yeah, I can, um…feel that,’ she says, making him gasp as she moves slowly back and forth against him.

‘Now, where did you say this growth spurt was…here?’ she asks, pressing down.

‘Uh huh…oh, Jesus…right there…’

Further conversation ceases to be an option. The air is soon filled with their sighs and moans and other sounds that have no name, but are completely understood.

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

‘That was…’ she trails off, barely recovered.

‘No kidding.’

‘Really. One of our better collaborations,’ she says, wrapping her arm around his waist and kissing his neck. ‘You were on fire.’

‘And on practically no sleep too,’ he remarks, mock smugly. ‘Just saying.’

‘Geez, Jim. What happened to that humble guy I agreed to marry?’

He laughs and tightens his arms around her. It’s still a little startling to hear the word ‘marry’ in reference to the two of them. In a good way, like waking up when he was a kid and suddenly remembering it was his birthday.

‘Do you think….things….will change, when we’re married?’ she asks.

‘Nope.’

‘Why are you so sure?’

‘Well, for one thing, I’ve never slept with a married woman before, so that’ll be kind of exciting.’

‘Good. As long as I’m the last one. Why else?’

‘Because I’m totally in love with you and you drive me fucking insane,’ he says, kissing her in a particularly illustrative fashion. ‘And, I don’t see that changing anytime soon.’

‘True, you are persistent.’

‘Just your luck.’

‘Yeah,’ she smiles against his mouth, ‘just my luck.’

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

When they finally manage to drag themselves out of bed, it’s because they’re both ravenous. Even though it’s nearly two o’clock in the afternoon, there’s only one solution: pancakes. And lots of them.

‘Great pancakes, Pam,’ he says, inhaling their final batch. ‘Maybe we should serve these at the wedding…instead of the beets.’

‘You know what?’ she asks abruptly, regarding him across the tiny kitchen table.

‘Um, you’ve always dreamed of an all-you-can-eat pancake wedding?’

‘No, maybe we should forget the wedding,’ she says, looking very serious.

Momentarily stricken, he almost drops his fork. Almost doesn’t breathe.

‘Maybe we should elope,’ she quickly completes her thought, seeing his reaction. Not wanting him to misinterpret.

‘Seriously?’ he asks incredulously, as he regains his equilibrium.

‘I don’t know. It’s just that I’m kind of burnt out on the wedding planning thing. What do you think?’

‘I’d do it in a heart beat,’ he replies instantly.

Then it occurs to him that she may not really mean this. Maybe she’s just acquiescing to what she thinks he wants. Maybe he hasn’t seemed to take the whole wedding part of getting married seriously enough.

‘I mean, unless you really wanted a big wedding,’ he backtracks. ‘Because, I know we’ve been joking about it, but Pam…if it’s what you want, then I want it too.’

She watches him for a moment. He looks so beautiful, so unguarded, so heartbreakingly earnest, that it reconfirms everything she’s thinking.

‘No,’ she says, simply. ‘I just want you.’

She reaches across table, puts her hands behind his neck and pulls him to her. His mouth tastes like maple syrup. And feels utterly perfect against hers.

‘You don’t think your mother will mind?’ he asks, as they break away.

‘Nah, she’s kind of been-there, done-that on the wedding stuff too. Besides, you know how crazy she is about you.’

‘Naturally,’ he smiles. ‘After all, I go over there to fix her computer like once a month.’

‘Think that’s why, huh?’

‘That, and the fact that I worship and adore her daughter.’

‘Aw, Jim,’ she sighs, a little choked up now. ‘The feeling is so mutual.’

‘Come on, Pam. She has to adore you. She’s your mother.’

He takes her hand as she laughs, rubbing his thumb over the diamond on her finger.

‘Hey,’ he asks, serious again. ‘Are you absolutely sure about eloping?’

‘Actually,’ she says, as if surprising herself. ‘I think I am.’

Smiling, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. He closes his eyes for a second and just holds it there, before looking back up at her.

‘Let’s do it then,’ he says softly.