With sunrise Monday morning, Pam felt refreshed and yet, she was nervous.  Her heart was lighter than it had been in months, but she had a sneaking suspicion that things were not going to be fun and frivolous in the office today.  Here she was finally, genuinely single.  The time between the days before her wedding and Phyllis’ own (or should she say hers again?) seemed like a weird void now, as if she had been waiting to go back to Roy all along.  She had gone back, and regretted it greatly. 

When she was making breakfast, she had been listening to the weather report on the morning news; it had declared that today would be slightly warmer than usual, so Pam had hurried to iron her outfit, thinking that she wouldn't get another chance like this for some time.  She made an effort to smooth out her curls, something she hadn't done for work in a long while.  Putting on a shamrock green blouse, she added a navy cardigan and pulled on a khaki skirt.  The whole combination looked a little too J. Crew she mused, but she'd been waiting to try out the new clothes she'd bought since the beginning of the month, so she couldn’t resist wearing them all at once. 

"Why do they put the spring styles out so early?  Don't the people who work in the stores live in Scranton too?  It doesn't get warm here until, like, April Fool's,” she thought aloud.  “It's so cruel." 

After giving herself a once over before leaving for work, the fancy new part of her decided that she would put a little more makeup on, another pass of the mascara wand to thicken her lashes some more, and maybe a touch of blush.  She was proud of what she had done that past Friday night; not the outcome per se, but that she had actually been honest.  For once.  And she wanted her exterior to reflect the pride that had taken so long to surface. 

 “You know what Beesly?” Pam smirked to herself, “You look good in green.  Even if it’s whorish.”

***

Having slid her purse under reception, and hung her coat on the rack, Pam picked up her teapot and walked to kitchen, her head held high.  She was glad that she had worn something bright and cheerful; she was so sick of this winter, the blah that everyone in the office emanated, the bland grey skies that were uncanny mirrors of her own bleak outlook.  Even if spring wasn’t exactly around the corner, a vibrant wardrobe might take her a tiny step away from the doldrums. 

“Hey, if Kelly can wear magenta year round, I can bring some color of my own…yeah,” Pam thought, pumping herself up as she prepared her cup of tea.  The steam rose in aromatic spirals as Pam closed her eyes slightly, breathing in the scent of her favorite flavor, Raspberry Zinger.

 “Mmmmm…” she purred softly.  “It really is the little things.” 

The door of the kitchen opened and she slowly turned her head, the delicious spell broken by Jim’s entrance.  Looking directly at him, she smiled warmly, not a full grin, but a sweet greeting none the less.  He stopped; he couldn’t remember ever seeing Pam in green, but she looked fresh and lovely, her hazel eyes reflecting, magnifying the rich hue.  Jim’s face flushed slightly, but did not return her expression.  Avoiding her eyes, he licked his lips thoughtfully, saying “smells good in here, like berries,” in the most boring and unemotional tone he could muster.  The relative peace that Pam had been feeling that morning wavered at the sound of his flat voice, but he was actually talking to her, so she responded.

 “Yeah, it’s raspberries.  How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful.”  He paused.  “I was just gonna get some coffee, so…”

Seeing that she was taking up too much counter space, Pam gathered her things and muttered “sorry”, unaware that Jim was looking at the teapot wistfully.  Head bowed, she felt the unwelcome sting of tears in her eyes.  She had been so diligent about not letting Jim’s recent thoughtlessness…

“Was that the right word even?” she knitted her brow and dropped into her chair. “He’s kind of disconnected from everything, well, me, especially since my weakness after Phyllis’ reception.  Ugh, what the hell else did he expect me to do at my bizarro-wedding?!  Nothing, he expects nothing.  Not now.  Shouldn’t have worn this much mascara today; shouldn’t have trusted fancy new self.”

***

Sitting down at her desk, she watched Jim graze a finger across Karen’s shoulders when he past her and then sit down in his chair, never looking at Pam.  Her anxiety about what the day offered returned.  Turning her wet eyes to her keyboard, she zoned in on words hidden within the scattered letters.  She pondered the location of each plastic key with which she was so familiar, her gaze shifting between three specific buttons.  She found it kind of meaningful that the letters R O Y were all in the same row, with slight spaces between them.  “He does march along, never moving out of his beer/sports/work life cycle.”  The symbols that make up her own name are spread across the keyboard, P far to the right, A completely to left, and M, down at the bottom, below P.  Pam thought to herself that she, too, was broken apart, except she felt like those disparate parts were starting to come back together now.  Despite J I M...whose letters line right up, not perfectly, but just looking at them made Pam think about how she wanted flesh and blood Jim under her fingers, not these little pictures.  And although his silence was deafening, his avoidance of her nauseating, she needed to prove to herself how much courage and honesty she had within.  If he could do it, with her getting married, she could be equally brave and forthright when he was only dating someone…right?

Jim  jim  jim.  No longer looking at the keys, she typed thoughtlessly, waiting for the contents of her jade-colored teapot to cool down.  It had been three days since she had trudged out of Poor Richard's after revealing her secret to Roy, the harsh sounds of his tantrum echoing in the parking lot.  Of course, this was nothing new to her.  Time and again, she’d seen him blow up like that over the ten years they'd been together, and it was always a matter of him calming down the next morning and apologizing: "Baby, I'm so sorry Pammy, I shouldn't have (insert jackass move here); it won't happen again...promise."  Ah, empty Roy promises.  She was not going to miss those.  And she was going miss being a doormat even less.  It really was incredible how much Gil’s words at the art show had entered her consciousness; never had she been in earshot of someone criticizing her like that.  She was sure that people criticized her plenty, Angela for example, but she actually cared what Gil thought, and he had eviscerated her.  The wave of sickness, doubt, fear that had come over her after the comments was briefly paralyzing.  And then she had an epiphany.  Gil was 100% right.  What kind of artist, real, honest to god, bohemian, covered-in-paint artiste didn’t truly express themselves in their work?  Who was she kidding?  Oh, right.  Rhetorical question there, Pamela. 

Waking up the morning following the art show, realizing that she did have thoughts, opinions, feelings, passions even, that needed to be captured visually, she set out to paint them, draw them, opening her heart and mind and soul, and letting their contents fall where they may on canvas and paper.  And Fancy New Beesly was back, and it was good to mean it this time, even telling the cameras the other day had be fantastically liberating.  Calling herself that in her head was fun, because Jim had called her that, and she wanted to be what Jim thought she could be.  And she was going to do it this time.  Because she finally knew that she could.

***

The ten minute daze that Pam had been in, alternately sipping her tea dreamily and wondering if she was fancy and new, or just fancy and fake, came to an end as she realized it was 9:20 and she had work to do, as the tax season about a month away.  Unfortunately, Kelly came bounding in at the same time, late due to a doctor’s appointment.  Pam hoped to god it wasn’t with the ob-gyn, because a pregnant Kelly would be worse than regular Kelly.  “Oh my god, nine months of Kelly bouncing off the walls.  Ryan would be pretty funny though,” Pam thought.

“Pam!  How are you after Friday night?  What is this amazing outfit you’ve got on?!  When did you go shopping?  Why didn’t you ask me?”

            Stunned by the interrogative onslaught, Pam digested what Kelly had unleashed, ignoring the first question.  She told her that the shopping had been very spur of the moment, and she would (maybe) invite her next time.  Finishing her tea, Pam nodded and swallowed as Kelly continued to compliment the color of her blouse. 

“Thank you!  I never really wear stand-out colors, but I woke up feeling spring-like today.  Maybe my clothes are catching up to my art!”

            “Awwww…Pam I hope so!  You need to update.  Seriously, let’s go sometime this coming weekend and throw some more things together for you!”

Quickly going over her options, Pam decided that she would keep up with her risk taking.  “That doesn’t sound half-bad.  Well, I need to get some faxes out to corporate.  We’ll talk later?”  Pam got up, tapping papers against the desk to even them out, and Kelly pranced away, back to the annex and her Ryan.  “A Kelly Kapoor compliment is definitely a mood-enhancer…could they possibly bottle that?” Pam smiled to herself. 

***

The day wore on like most of them had in the weeks following Phyllis’ wedding, which meant that there was basically no communication between Jim and Pam, other than his asking her for messages after lunch or to look for a fax from so-and-so.  Even though the urge to pull Jim aside for a brief discussion of what she’d finally admitted to Roy was intense, Pam could not muster the strength to do so.  Not in front of Karen.  Or the rest of her co-workers.  Even if every one of the latter knew something big, bad, and ugly had happened at the bar.  How was it that none of them had said a word to him about it?  She was positive no one had told him.  She kind of hoped someone would have, if only to make her job a little easier.  “But that is not how this works, is it Pam?”

Midday had come and gone, and the office was in the post-lunch/three o’clock coma, when the room was very quiet and relaxed.  Michael was out on calls, with Dwight in tow for who knows what reason, and accounting was cracking the books for tax time.  Everyone else was reading the paper or playing solitaire covertly on their computers.  Pam was plotting a way to lure Jim into going for coffee, or possibly coming over to her place to talk, but she didn’t have a chance to really weigh her choices because the loud bang of the front door slamming against the wall drove all thoughts from her head. 

“Halpert!  I knew it was fucked up that you came back here after just getting transferred!” 

Jim had jumped a mile when the door had hit the wall, as he’d been intently reading his email, completely in his own world.  The booming voice made his eyes open wide; his cheeks twitched creating an expression of confusion, disbelief, with just a pinch of horrified realization.  He was utterly speechless.

Roy had stomped the few yards to his desk from the door, oblivious to Pam’s shocked face, and was now fully in Jim’s view.

“You little shit, I’m going to seriously mess you up!  I can’t believe you’d pull that a month before we were supposed to get married!”

Still sitting in his chair, Jim pleaded.

“Whoa, what are you talking about?  I don’t know what this is about!”

“Don’t fuck-around with me Halpert; Pammy over there told me all about your romance.”

By now the office had returned to life, everyone was standing up, slack-jawed and staring.  Toby, Kelly, and Ryan had heard the commotion and come out front.  Karen had her hand over her mouth, not knowing what the hell was going on or what to do.  Pam was positive she was going to be sick.

Jim tried to stand up, but Roy pushed him back down, with a hand squarely on each shoulder.

“No, you are going to own up to this, because I need to hear it from you.  Admit it!  You told her how you felt before you left and…”

“Wha…?  I…” Jim turned his head to look at Pam, whose face was a mask of fear; he knew immediately she really had told him.

“I, I…it was after casino night…and, yes, I did.” Jim managed to stutter.

Karen started over to reception.

“Yes, you did what!?  Jim, what are you saying?” she hissed.

Pam tried to stop him from responding, knowing that he had no clue how much Pam had said, but no words would come.  Where the hell was Fancy New Beesly?

Frantic, backed into corner, he shouted.  “I told Pam that I love her!  And that I want to be with her but she said that she…she couldn’t.”  Roy pulled his hands off of Jim, running his hands through his rough beard.  Jim looked down, with is hands around the back of his neck, as if he wanted to choke himself.

All eyes shot to Pam, her mask cracked to reveal a brittle smile and a wash of tears.

“You said love, not loved,” Pam whispered.

“Exactly.”

Jim looked up and Karen’s fist crashed into his lower jaw, gasps rising from the audience of their peers, with a giggle erupting from Kevin. 

Roy, silent, slowly plodded out of the office, and Karen, grabbing her purse and coat, followed in short order. 

Pam came around the side of her desk and knelt at Jim’s side.  He didn’t look at her.

“Well, I never imagined that’s how this would all come to pass, but…”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Jim, I’m sorry that it did happen this way, and all I can say is, uh, that I love you, and that you are going to need some ice for that.” (“Aha! There’s the new me!”)

Eyebrows raised, Jim stared at her.

“Yeah, I said it.  Believe it,” beaming up at him.

“Which part?!”

“The one that is making you smile even though you can’t really,” she said with a laugh.

He laced his fingers with hers and stood to go get some ice, which, honestly, he didn’t even need anymore.