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The tiki torches had set her budget back a bit. She tried to imagine that it was just the two of them sitting on a beach in romantic Waikiki. She would be on her honeymoon. A gold ring on her finger with a princess-cut diamond. She looked down at her bare hand. To keep the tears from coming, she focused on Michael again.

He was being his usual idiot self. A slight smile came to her face when she realized he would soon be gone. Her Dwight would be Regional Manager.  Her Dwight would be the most powerful man in the room. The bravest and the most powerful. Maybe now she could tell her pastor and her parents and her stupid sister. Would they accept him? Now that he was a full manager in charge of over 20 people?

She was sure they would not. Not with her perfect sister’s husband as comparison. At Easter, she had shown them photos from Phyllis’ wedding and they had mocked him. Of course, they had mocked everyone she worked with, but him especially.

Angela watched the flames flicker as they sent up sparks. She tried to think of a way out of this life. She wished her life was like accounting. Everything should add up. Everything should have a value. A reason. A rule. An immutable law that would dictate how it should work.

But it didn’t work that way. Those who broke the rules seemed to be so happy. Look at Ryan and Kelly. It was obvious Ryan just used her to satisfy his carnal appetite. He didn't care at all about her culture or her religion. That had been blatantly apparent at the Diwali prom. So why did Kelly seem so happy this last year?  Completely open to everyone about this relationship, even to her parents. Could she not see that she was dating a Wharton wannabe smug kiss-up?

When Kelly had said at the Mall that she and Ryan were having troubles, Angela had so wanted to say, “I’ve known since the day he walked in. From the minute he started chatting me up as if I was some sorority girl asking me if I liked keggers. Or later when we were alone in the break room and he made snide comments about my giving out ‘cookies’ for free. Acting like I didn't know what he was talking about. Laughing at my expense.”

Angela could have told Kelly many, many things. But she had held her tongue, because how many times had her sister told her stuff, saying she was being helpful but really…. “Oh, Angela. How can you even look at that guy? He is so not your type! He has a job, for God’s sake.” “Angela, k-i-ss-i-n-g! Too bad he was blitzed out of his mind and thought you were Judy Rochester! You should wear sundresses more often, maybe you’ll get some of Judy’s cast-offs!”

Where had it got her? Did Kelly treat her with respect? No. She always spoke to Angela in that insufferable ‘look at me talking to the uncool girl’ voice. ‘”You did suuuch a good job on the phone! You’re sooo great!” As if Angela hadn’t seen the sly looks that Kelly was sending Kevin’s way. There was nothing Angela liked more than being the butt of their in-jokes.

Unintentionally, Angela grabbed a handful of sand and squeezed as hard as she could. They hated her so much. Every day she could feel it as she walked into the office. They always hated her. Not like her sister. Her sister could walk into a room of strangers and, within seconds, she would be their darling.  She thought maybe her sister had this magic power, this warmth, that made her instantly loveable.

Dwight had once said that she was his ice princess. Of course, she had chastised him.  It was really a rude thing to say. But deep down, she had felt loved. He loved her in spite of her. Dwight loved her.  He would actually say it. To her. Like he meant it.

She thought back to when she had modeled children’s clothes with her sister at the Scrantion Pioneer Days. She had worn the clothing of miner’s daughters from the 1800’s. Dirty bibbed overalls, a paperboy’s cap, no shirt, no shoes. She had looked like trash. It was no surprise that her sister had gotten her photo in the newspaper, dressed as a darling mini-Jackie Kennedy representing 1960’s Scranton.

When she had worn a copy of that dress, it had taken her three monts to hand sew it, Dwight had said she looked like the Queen of England! Like Royalty. No one had ever said that about her sister. Maybe she should tell her parents about Dwight. Not her sister, of course, but maybe her parents. Maybe they would be kind. This once.

She would have to work hard with Dwight first. To prepare him.  But how could she prepare him for the minefield that was her father? Or for her mother’s backhanded compliments? No. She couldn’t introduce them. How could Dwight love her after he saw what her parents thought of her? He would think she was not perfect.

That’s what he always said about her. Her favorite times were when she was lying in his arms in front of his television set. He would be watching some dumb aliens show and she would just be listening to his heart beat. A commercial would come on and he would stroke her cheek and say she was perfect. He wouldn’t do that if he knew what her parents thought of her.

She looked up to see Phyllis laughing at something Stanley had said. There was another example of someone who proved that life wasn’t drawn up in nice little rows of numbers that added up correctly. Phyllis, by all the laws handed down by society, should have been stoned long ago by her peers and left to die.

Did no one here care that this woman had slept with many, many men? That she was in essence a harlot?  Only Dwight, dear Dwight, seemed to find this even remotely repulsive. No matter how often Angela tried, and Lord knows she tried, she'd never forget that fateful first party when she had been made head of the Party Planning Committee.

She remembered how excited she had been to receive the honor when Marjorie stepped down. Finding Phyllis and Creed in the break room; the party ruined, the insults, the tears; it had been horrible. Looking back, Angela realized she should have questioned why Marjorie was so quick to hand over the job when Angela had professed an interest. People just didn’t do nice things for Angela because she showed an interest.

She realized she had been digging holes in the sand around her. She patted them in to level the field and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Blessedly, no one had. Dwight was across the fire from her and the smoke made a wavy filter that distorted his features. She shivered at his demon-like face.

He had walked across coals and then fallen on to them, screaming. She had wondered if that is what Hell would feel like. She knew she was going to Hell. The night she had succumbed to Dwight’s advances was the night she had agreed to go to Hell. But it was a long time off and he would be there with her and he would take care of her. He would fight Satan for her. He would lose, but he would fight for her.

Maybe she could just tell her Minister about Dwight. When she had joined the church during college, it had offered so much that she had been lacking. A purpose. A reason. Instant friendship. Kindness. But now when she went to the services, it was just like going to work. The glares, the hostile looks, the accusations. She was sick of the competition. There was no winning. No one ever said “You are a better person than her. You are right, they are wrong.” Except Dwight.

Angela looked down at her naked finger again. Would it be so bad to tell someone? She had almost told Pam that one day. She should have told Pam. There was a person who could keep secrets. Pam had never told anyone about when Angela had showed up at Roy’s place. She had acted for all these years like it had never happened. Angela hadn’t done anything wrong, of course, but it was embarrassing to think back on it.

She wished if a man were taken that they wore something saying so. Like a big sign around their neck saying "I'm dating someone". When Pam had answered his door, she had been so timid and shy. Naturally, Angela had misinterpreted, “Oh, hello. I’m Angela. Are you Roy’s sister?” It was humiliating to remember. When Pam started working there a couple of months later, Angela had been sure she would tell everyone, but she hadn’t. It was nice.

Angela looked over to where Pam was standing by the coals. It had been a hard year for her. She had broken off a safe future with Roy for no reason. Well.  A little bit of doubt nagged at Angela’s conscience. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Pam about PamPong. It had just been a joke. But it was evident at the time that Pam didn’t treat her fiancé as well as she treated Jim. Angela had just been giving her a warning.

Startled, Angela watched Pam race across the coals. She almost screamed out but controlled herself as her mother had taught her. When you scream, you’re just inviting more trouble. Angela turned to see if anyone else around the circle had witnessed Pam’s firewalk. They were all seemingly enraptured by Michael's speech.

She turned again to see Pam making her way towards the campfire. Angela didn’t know what to do. Should she scoot over a little to let her have a seat? Should she mention that she saw the firewalk? It was best to keep silent.

“Why didn’t any of you come to my art show?”

Angela looked down at her hands. She had felt awful about that but she would admit openly that she knew nothing about art. Already she had been humiliated by Oscar in front of everyone. He had said she had no taste in art. That she loved anti-art. That she had no sense of beauty. She had held her ground but at great cost. Dwight had spent that night holding her in his arms as she cried until there was nothing left to cry.

Imagine if she had gone to the art show and real artists had heard what idiotic things she said about art? Dwight had said that he would beat up anyway who ridiculed her but of course she didn't want any violence. She dreaded the whole day that Pam would ask her specifically to go. She had been so thankful when Pam hadn’t. And it was so easy to act like she hadn’t seen the flyer.

“Jim, I love you”

That’s not what Pam said aloud. But everyone in the circle knew what she was saying. Her actual words might be about missing his friendship but it was as plain as day that she was throwing herself at him. Angela could not help looking over to see Jim’s reaction to Pam’s all too public confession. Her heart stilled. There was no look in his eyes at all. He didn’t care about Pam at all. Angela turned away, humiliated for Pam.

It was her fault. She should never have told Pam about the PamPong. It had encouraged her. She had made Pam think that someone was interested in her who wasn’t. She had thrown away a safe marriage for someone she worked with and he didn’t care for at all. His face had been dead. She could have just as easily said, ‘the weather is clement today’ for all he cared.

Angela looked at Karen. Really, how could Pam compete? Thank God she was already dating Dwight or she would be worried about Karen. Hadn’t Dwight, even if it was as a joke, said that he wanted to have Sexual Intercourse with her? She was that kind of girl. Guys wanted to have her. Just like that Katy girl. And Angela’s sister. There was no rhyme or reason.

Really, it had been a miracle that Roy had wanted Pam. But no… the length of the engagement told the story. He was looking for a nice wife to do his laundry and have his kids and Pam was it if nothing better came along. If Angela had been a different kind of woman, she was sure that even she could have stolen him away from Pam.

She watched as Jim walked over to Pam cooling her feet in the water. It was heartbreaking. Pam had put it all on the line and he was going over there to break her heart. There was no way that Angela was going to do that. The diamond ring and Waikiki would have to wait. She wasn’t going to have her heart broken just to give her family a few laughs.

Maybe they would elope.

     


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