New Years 2007

JANUARY

It’s the very first day in January; the year just a mere hour old in fact when his cell phone rings.

“’Lo?” He yawns, having been bored out of his mind with the evening’s festivities. The party he’d been dragged to had too many nauseatingly happy couples and he’d had too little alcohol to make it at all bearable.

He hears a familiar giggle in reply. He knows there’s only one person in the world it can belong to.

His eyebrows arch in surprise. “Pam?”

“Jim…ouch! Hold on…” She giggles some more and he can hear her muttering, then a clatter, then a rustle and then a sigh as she picks the phone up again.

“Sorry. I had to get out of that dress.” She says blowing out a breath. “My stupid friend…” She mumbles and he can’t make out the name she just said. “…made me get all dressed up tonight.”

The image that sentence puts in his mind has him reeling. “Wh-what?”

It’s then that he thinks he hears her singing, incredibly off key. He could swear she’s singing something about partying like its 1999.

Guess she didn’t get the 2007 memo.

It takes him a while to get her attention. “Pam. Pam. PAM!”

“Yes, Jim. Yes, James. JimJames.” She replies, giggling again. “Why doesn’t anyone call you James? Michael does – but not all the time. Maybe I’ll just call you James from now on…”

He’s about to say that his mom calls him James, but Pam says it so suggestively that his legs turn to jelly. He leans on the side of his car to steady himself.

“Where are you?” He asks his voice full of worry.

“OH. I’m home. I was out but I’m home now. Went to a…” She hiccups. “…party and it was lame, lame, lame. No. That’s not even…it was lamer than lame. It won the Academy Award for Lameness.”

“So you’re saying it was lame?” He says, unable to stop a smile from creeping across his face.

“The abso - (hiccup) - lute lamest.” She giggles again. “And it was so depressing. At midnight there was no one there for me to kiss.”

Jim swallows audibly. The word kiss was something that meant everything from a small piece of chocolate to an act that was far more passionate. But he knew now that he’d never think of that word without remembering what it felt like to have his lips on hers.

His heart beats faster. “Pam.”

“Kissers were everywhere. And I was there by myself, in that stupid dress and she made me do my hair and I kept looking for someone but you weren’t there. Why weren’t you there Jim? Sorry. I mean…James?”

She doesn’t waste much time getting to the point. Even in her drunken state she knows she’s called him for a reason. It was all she could think about all night and now that she was home she couldn’t help herself from finding out the truth.

Calling Jim sounded like the most brilliant idea in the world after a bottle and a half of champagne.

“Would you have kissed me? I really would have liked that.” She says as she stumbles and he hears the phone clatter again.

He’s too concerned for her words to really register. “Pam?”

“Whoops. Sorry! Butterfingers!” She says cheerfully as she tries to regain her balance again. It’s useless and she pauses to kick off her shoes. “What was I saying? Oh yeah. Kissing you. It was kinda quick the last time, but I remember it was really nice. It was…nice and I wouldn’t mind if you did it again. Not (hiccup) at all mind. I mean…” She sinks down on the couch, yawning loudly. “You should. You totally, totally should.”

He wonders how quickly he can get to Scranton. There won’t be much traffic at two in the morning.

Even as he thinks it, he knows it’s not a good idea. Jim takes a deep breath and says softly.

“Pam. Uh…are you sure about that? I just…I seem to remember that me…um…kissing you? It didn’t go over so well the last time.”

The other end of the line goes quiet and he begins to panic a bit. He thinks maybe she's hung up but then he hears a faint sound, like a sigh.

“Jim. I think that practice makes perfect.” She replies her voice sounding dreamy and very far away. “Perfect…let’s try for perfect…”

He wonders what that means. He wonders how much of this conversation she’ll actually remember. He doesn’t want to hope – but he can’t help himself.

Could it be true? Does she really want him? Has she really changed her mind? He’s afraid to hope, because the idea of getting his heart trampled on anymore than it already has been is paralyzing.

He’s brought back to the conversation at hand as he hears her breathe his name again. He can picture her, curled on her couch - half dressed – apparently and the depiction in his head makes his pulse race and his knees weak. Actually, pretty much every part of him is reacting to that image at the moment.

She's still talking even though her words are starting to slur. "You give really, really, really awesome Christmas presents."

He knows what he's about to say is going to get lost somewhere but he still feels the need to say it.

"So do you. Pam, thank you so much. Those cookies were incredible." Jim grins as he remembers the perfectly decorated trees and the angels she’d given devil’s horns. They were as beautiful and funny as they were delicious.

She smiles and giggles again. "You're welcome. I'm glad you (hiccup) liked them. Even though - I was totally going to get you something else."

She thinks back to the store and the tie she wanted to buy him as she says wistfully. "See, I was going to buy you this tie, it was so pretty and so expensive and I thought…"

All of the sudden he notices that her voice sounds defeated. It's almost like she's off somewhere else.

He thinks he might hear her sniffling a bit. "Pam? You OK?"

She wipes a tear from her cheek. What happened? She had been in such a good mood. What was she talking about? Oh yeah, she suddenly remembers. Presents. Presents for Jim. Presents from Jim.

"Speaking of awesome Christmas presents…" She says and attempts to get up again, only to fall back down. "I should make some tea."

The images of her swaying at the stove with a pot of boiling water makes him want to get in his car and drive straight to Scranton again. He could already see that it wouldn't end well.

He desperately tries to get her to reconsider. "I don't think that's a good idea, Pam. Why don't you just get some sleep? Have tea in the morning."

At his suggestion she smiles so widely he can hear it in her voice. "You're right. You are so smart and so…God, just…right. You figured it all out way before me." She sounds sad again and it seems she’s fading fast. She yawns loudly. "I took way too long."

She curls up just as he imagines and snuggles in, resting her head on a cushion. “I’ve been stupid, James. I’m fucking (hiccup) drunk and I’m fucking stupid.”

He thinks he’s heard her swear only once before in his life. She manages to make it sound incredibly cute. He doesn’t know quite how to take all this. It’s not the first time some girl has drunk dialed him – but this time it’s different. This time it’s…

“Pam?” He whispers.

He can hear her falling under and knows it’s best for her to just sleep it off. He tries not to chuckle as he thinks about the massive hangover she’s bound to have tomorrow. He’s thankful he’d stopped at three beers, because even if she forgets what she’s said to him, he knows he’ll remember it for the rest of his life.

And because that’s what he’s thinking he’s beyond shocked at what she says as she drifts off to sleep.

“Tell your girlfriend I said, Happy New Year.” Pam murmurs as the phone falls from her ear and clatters on the floor again.

He can barely hear the rest but he knows she’s still talking.

She snuggles down further and sees his face in her mind. “Tell her she’s lucky she got to kiss you tonight. She’s really, really, really lucky…”