"Oh, my GOD," he snorted. "All this one is missing is a unicorn! Totally
bourgeois. This looks like a middle school gym art show."
Gil walked away from the painting hung at the end of the hallway. He didn't
see Pam, standing just around the corner, watching him evaluate her
painting.
She sighed, and turned to walk away. It hurt, hurt a lot, to hear her work
critiqued so derisively. This wasn't the old "artsy fartsy" barb, either,
Gil was a bit of an art buff, and actually knew what he was talking
about....She felt herself starting to slump, to deflate, and then....she was
right up against a barrell chest, a gray shirt, a deep voice.
"Pammy, babe." Roy. The lover of her entire womanhood. The "cool guy"
who saw beyond the ink stained fingertips and wanted her...HER. She opened
her mouth to ask for comfort, to find the reassurance that she was every bit
as talented as she hoped.
"I'm glad you got a chance to try this out, Pammy." He looked at her,
searching her face for the meek teenager she had been. "But, aren't you
ready to come home?"
Home. He didn't only mean their apartment, although he did mean that. He
wasn't only talking about the "home" of their decade-long relationship,
although that, too, was part of the invitation. He wanted her to come home
to her old self -- the Pam who sat shyly by, who was so glad that she was
so, so lucky that big, strong Roy loved her, even though she was the mousy
artsy girl. For her whole adult life, she had been his moon, orbiting
around him, grateful for the chance to be part of his world.
She opened her mouth to say "yes, " but the sound wouldn't come.
"Roy." It was like she was watching someone else say it. "I am home." He
looked bewildered. "I am so, so sorry if I gave you the wrong idea the
other night."
"WHAT?" This was so unexpected, he couldn't comprehend what he was
hearing.
She took a deep breath and continued. "I am going on with this." She
gestured towards her paintings. "And, Roy...you are not my home anymore.
I'm so sorry. A part of me will always -- ALWAYS-- love you....but, at
this point, I just know that we are not meant to be.....I was always
changing who I was to suit you...."
"But, Pammy, you don't have to do that....I've changed for you!"
"Don't you see? I don't want you to change for me. You deserve to be with
someone who is right with you the way you naturally are. And, I deserve
that, too. We just aren't right together."
"But, didn't you hear what the fruit said?"
There was a silence as Pam composed herself. Her mouth formed a firm, hard
line.
"Roy. I am not giving up on this because one individual didn't get what I
was trying to say with my art. And I am certainly not going to let the
negative impression of a person I've met once before in my life determine
the course of the rest of my life." She saw his shoulders sag and softened
a little. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never, ever wanted to do that. I
just want you to know that I honestly believe that in the long run, you will
be so much happier with someone else."
He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it abruptly. He shook his
head, almost in disgust, but Pam knew it was really a veneer to cover hurt
and sadness and vulnerability and everything he found it contemptible to be.
She smiled at him sadly as he spun on the heel of his work boots and
walked away.
"Wow. I love this. It's makes me think of unicorns, and I always loved
unicorns. Collected them, in fact. I wanted to decorate my college dorm
with them.....stupid roommate." Pam turned, and smiled in spite of
herself.
"Hi, Michael."
Story Notes:
Spoilers for up to Phyllis' Wedding, Speculation on Business School on forward. (And, I do read spoilers, so there is a strong likelihood that my specs are "spoiled" ) Since those confounded writers never do what I want, odds are that this will be Alternate Universe soon enough.
Title is from TS Eliot poem "The Wasteland"
Ergo, the disclaimer: I own none of what you see here. I am borrowing NBC/Reveille's Barbies and making them do nice stories.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Spec on Business School. Low-level spoilers.
Chapter End Notes:
More to come. Thanks for reading -- this is my first ever fanfic to escape my daydreams and make it in to actual print!
