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"His eye is on the sparrow”, Liz sang softly, her fingers gliding over her newly- tuned piano. She’d just gotten a call earlier that afternoon telling her the regular church organist had a relative die and she was supposed to fill in. She played a chord, cringed and changed the F to a sharp, continuing through the hymn. Crescendo, and softer. She knew once it came to getting seventy senior citizens to sing along, it would be impossible. The phone rang, causing to Elizabeth to stop mid-refrain. Humming to herself as she walked into the kitchen, she picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, mom.” Liz grinned. Pam’s voice held a kind of excitement she hadn’t heard since a night back four months ago, when her daughter had told her the fate of her branch, and the return of a certain co-worker.

“Pam! What’s new, pussycat?” She asked, reaching into the fridge for a container of yogurt. Finding her Mountain Blueberry, she shut the door and peeled the foil off.

“Guess what?” She could practically see Pam wiggling like a happy puppy over the phone.

“Lindsay Lohan is back in rehab? Really honey, it isn’t nice to triumph in other’s misfortunes,” Liz cracked.

“Mom,” her daughter replied, using a whiny voice Elizabeth hadn’t heard since Pam had been seventeen and wanted a later curfew, because, like, everyone else did.

“What’s up, child o mine?”

“You know that contest I entered at the grade school?” Excitement was literally bubbling out of her pores.

“Yeah?” Liz asked, feeling the goose bumps form on her forearms.

“I won!” With that, Pam burst into a fit of giggles. And unlike the sardonic or sad giggles Liz had spent the last seven months listening to, this was…happy.

“Oh, Penny!” She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, awed at this occurrence. She knew Pam had been working very hard, albeit quietly on her art work since she’d moved out on her own. It felt almost like sweet vindication. She couldn’t remember the specifics, but knew Roy had told her something about not being good enough to do this for a living. It was one of a million reasons Liz was glad Pam had ended things.

“Yeah,” Pam answered, trying valiantly to hide the self-satisfied tone in her voice. It was okay, she deserved it. “It was that watercolor I did that you like so much.”

“Pam, that’s wonderful. Oh, sweetie,” Liz said, completely out of words to express how proud she was of her only offspring. “So, I suppose your boss is throwing a big party for you to celebrate.”

“Oh,” Pam responded, sounding slightly out of breath. “No. I didn’t tell hardly anybody about it. It…for the most part people weren’t really that…I don’t know, I just expected them to be a little more happy for me, I guess? Is that selfish?”

“No,” her mother stated, finished her afternoon snack. “You just wanted them to share in your excitement, love. So, wait, nobody was excited for you? Did you tell Karen?”

Karen was a sort of odd character in the whole world of her daughter’s place of employment. From what Liz had heard about her, she seemed to be smart, ambitious, and…normal. The elder Beesley woman had had a hard time figuring out why on earth this woman had moved to Scranton in the first place, but hadn’t even actually asked Pam. She was afraid she already knew what the answer was, and didn’t want Pam to have to say it.

“Um, no. I didn’t.” Pam seemed to deflate audibly. “Everyone went out on sales calls today, and when they came back, Karen’s hair was all big and she all of a sudden didn’t like me.”

“Her hair was big?” Elizabeth asked, confused.

“Yeah, she looked like she’d spent the day in Jersey,” Pam joked. “It’s not really worth explaining, but when she came back, she was mad and she asked Jim to go for coffee, and she kind of looked like she wanted to maim me a little.”

“Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“No,” Pam replied, trying hard to keep the exasperated tone out of her voice. It didn’t really work. “We’re not fifteen, mom. I haven’t really talked to her much in the last few weeks. She and Jim are getting closer and it’s just…”

“Awkward?” Her mother supplied.

“Something like that, yeah.” Pam answered.

Liz felt bad, thinking back to the exuberant girl who had called her only minutes ago. ‘It’s nice to know I can still suck all the joy out of people’s lives’, she thought sarcastically. But, even after all the bad experiences she’d had today with her co-workers, she had been cheery when she’d called. Liz took a chance and asked the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

“What did Jim say?”

“Oh.” Pam fell silent.

Don entered the kitchen, still in his uniform from work. He kissed her cheek, the smell of motor oil still on his skin. It was a smell that had always soothed Elizabeth, even turned her on. He mouthed a ‘who is it?’ to her.

“It’s Pam, she won an art contest.” Immediately, Don held out his hand, motioning for her to hand him the receiver.

“Penny!” he chortled, stepping over to the fridge to grab a beer. “I heard. Yeah. Now you’ll have to come up and paint me and mom’s bedroom. Pay you? I don’t think I can afford you, can I?” Liz smiled to herself. It wasn’t often when Don would connect with his child, but when it happened, it was wonderful to see. “Okay, yeah. Okay. Mmm-hmm. Bye, baby.” He handed the phone back to Liz, grinning, and wandered toward the living room.

“So, Jim?”

Pam exhaled loudly, and Liz wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. What if he had not shown any interest and now here she was, making her re-live it. “It was the first time he’s smiled at me since he’s been back. I mean, smiled at me, because I‘m me.”

And that said it all. It was the reason she was on cloud nine. Just a smile from this guy was all it took. The quiet hope Pam was feeling was contagious, and Liz felt her spirits rise. Her daughter amazed her every single day.

“Anyway, I should go. I actually do have class tonight, and my teacher said she’d buy me a beer afterward if I got a prize at this thing, so…”

“Absolutely,” Liz answered. “Have a good night.”

“You too, mom. Love you.” And she hung up the phone.

Placing the phone back on its cradle, Elizabeth wandered back into the living room. Don had turned on some syndicated judge show and was sitting back, beer in hand.

“So, she sounds happy.” He didn’t even look at her when he said it.

“Yeah,” Liz answered slowly. A small smile crept onto her face. “I think she is, actually.”

Her husband turned and glanced at her. “Well, that’s good.” She grinned wider at him. He may not seem like he’s paying attention, but he knew the women in his life pretty well.

“Yeah,” she echoed, curling up on the couch next to him.

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