“1. Composition is key.”

Many people have a fear of the blank canvas. You have to decide what you want before you can begin. Of course, there’s room for change and improvement, but you have to make a mistake first before you can paint over it.

Pam stared at the blank canvas in front of her. Her professor had given her a list of things to remember whenever she’d paint. Mistakes she’d made last time. She didn’t want to make the same mistakes again.

The list was clipped to the top of her easel. The first one read “Composition is key.” Composition is a beginning. She knew she should be thinking about her work, but instead she thought about Jim. Lately when she painted, he was all she could think of.

She and Jim had a beginning, too. She remembered it well. There was something about that first lunch with him. She was just too inexperienced to realize how special it was. Too blind to identify it.

She started to mix her paints and her mind drifted.

***

It was the new guy’s first day, and she had noticed him right away. She was the first person he saw when he came in, and he put out his hand for her to shake it. His name was Jim. He was sweet, seemed very polite, and smiled a lot.

When one o’ clock rolled around, she set the phone to automatic voicemail, sent out one more fax, and got up to go to lunch. She hadn’t noticed him watching her like a hawk, waiting for her to get up so he could ask her if she‘d like to have lunch with him. He suggested they go down the street to Cugino’s. He said he’d seen it driving into work. She agreed, meaning to tell him that she had actually brought her lunch with her, but she didn’t. It looked like her turkey sandwich was going to stay in the fridge until tomorrow. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He held the door for her as she got into his car, held the door for her at the restaurant, and pulled her chair out when she sat down. Roy hadn’t done that in... she honestly couldn’t remember if he had ever pulled her chair out. She was starting to wonder if this guy was just super polite or if he had a little crush on her.

Nah... no one ever got a crush on Pam.

He sat across from her and started to look at the menu. They made a little small talk and the waiter came by and quickly took their orders. The restaurant was surprisingly quiet for a lunch hour.

“So. Pam.”

“And you’re... Jim.”

He smiled at her. She immediately thought he was cute. She didn’t feel guilty; no one had to know.

“How long have you been at Dunder Mifflin?” he asked.

She made a face, raised an eyebrow. “Too long.”

He laughed. Easily, comfortably. “Not what you want to tell the new guy.”

“I know, I shouldn’t,” she said. “But I’ve never had the luxury of being able to warn someone before.”

He took a sip of his Coke. She took one of her Diet. They talked and talked, falling into a rhythm that Pam had never taken part in. She didn’t really recognize it, but she knew she and this Jim would get along just fine. There wasn’t anyone else at work she ever really talked to. This might be nice.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not answering the phone, and... filing?” Jim kept asking questions about her. He seemed so interested in her, and seemed to really listen when she answered.

“Well... I do like to draw.”

“Really? That’s awesome! What do you draw?”

Pam looked at the little pile of ketchup next to her fries. She always got a little shy when talking about her artwork. “Um, well... I like drawing landscapes, and I’ve taken some figure drawing, and sometimes I like to do portraits.”

“Well, you’re definitely going to draw me something right now.” Jim reached over to the next empty table and plucked up a napkin. He moved her plate aside and set it in front of her, handing her a pen, and sat back, looking expectantly at her and smiling.

Pam’s mom always did this whenever they were around new people, and she usually hated doing it. But for some reason she took the pen and shrugged. “What do you want me to draw?”

“Surprise me.”

They were silent for the next three minutes as Pam started sketching. She kept looking up at him, and he realized when she was done that she had drawn his face.

She nervously handed it to him, and closely watched his reaction.

“Wow.” He looked at it closely. “This is great.” She could tell he meant it. She didn’t necessarily think it was; the lines were too thick and she had made his hair a little too fluffy. But he gazed at it, and then at her, and said “You are one talented little receptionist, Beesley.”

It was the first time, ever, that he had called her that. She remembered it.

He folded the napkin once, careful not to fold over the drawing, and put it in his shirt pocket. “I’m going to save it, so when you’re rich and famous I can say I knew you when.”

She’d heard this from everyone she’d drawn for in front of her mom. This was the first time she believed it. He probably would keep it. He seemed so genuine, she found it hard not to believe him.

She tried not to blush, and failed.

As they were walking back to his car, she unconsciously used a “we” while talking.

“Wait a sec... who is ‘we?’” Jim asked.

“Oh! My fiancee, Roy.”

In the split second she looked down to negotiate the stairs, she missed his face drop ever so slightly.

“He actually works at Dunder Mifflin, too.”

“Ah,” Jim replied.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t smile.

Pam hadn’t recalled the memory of her first day with Jim in a while. She found it ironic, in retrospect, that the day she met him was the day she had dropped her engagement ring off at the jewelers for repair. One of the baguettes was a little loose.

She wondered if he still had that napkin. Knowing Jim, he probably did. But she didn’t feel like she knew him anymore.

She looked again at the canvas. She had covered it with blues. In her mind’s eye she knew exactly what she wanted it to look like. She hoped she could make it that way. If it turned out to be a mistake... well, she’d fix it. She’d change it.

She plunged her paintbrush into her water jar, and the clear water was pierced by a dark blue serpentine swirl. Soon the whole jar was murky.