When Pam returned to her room at Parco Tirreno, she immediately thumbed through every page of her Lonely Planet phrasebook, desperately in search of the sentence Jim had said to her.
Sono innamorata di te. She had repeated the phrase over and over in her head from the second they had parted ways at the basilica. When she’d tried to repeat it to the clerk at the front desk of the hotel, he’d handed her a shower cap. She couldn’t possibly be pronouncing the words properly. Pam refused to believe that it was merely a classic Jim prank.
It was difficult locating the phrase. All the sentences and words were in English first, followed by the italicized Italian. She had already been through the book twice trying to locate it.
Eventually she found it. There, on page 120 staring back at her, was the translation. Her face reddened; her heart felt like it was ready to leap from her chest.
I’m in love with you.
Sono innamorata di te.
Pam was stunned. She had to have remembered his words incorrectly. There was no way that he would have uttered that particular translation, especially if he was in Rome with Karen.
Slamming the book shut, she threw it across her bed in frustration and swatted at an errant tear that had found its way to her cheek.
So stupid, she thought to herself. She had managed to get her hopes up again. Just like before, she was willing to believe that there might be something more, that he too was invested like she was.
Again, she was left alone, staring at the ceiling wondering: what if…
***
Jim couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. Lying in bed, he’d flung his arm across his forehead and replayed the night over in his head. He couldn’t believe she was there in Rome, with him. She could be next door. That thought alone left him overwhelmed and excited at the same time.
Seeing her in the piazza with her contagious smile, laughing and dancing-- it had left him light headed. He could still feel her arms around his neck. It seemed like nothing short of a miracle that two people who’d avoided each other for so long could be thrown together half way across the world.
Tomorrow was his chance. After all this time, in a few hours he’d finally be able to hear why she’d left so abruptly, why she had moved to a different state. He wanted desperately for them to move past it, to return to what they used to have together. Part of him feared that Pam held some resentment toward him because of his transfer to Stamford and subsequent return with Karen.
Karen…
It seemed cruel of him to be thinking of Pam when just hours earlier he’d broken up with Karen, ending their relationship for good. But he’d already done Karen the disservice of thinking of Pam while he’d been with her. At this point, he figured what he did could hardly matter.
He wondered if Pam had figured out what he’d said to her in Italian. It was so like her to carry around a phrasebook; she was always eager to please everyone she met. The sentence Jim had chosen was purposeful. He’d noticed it the first time he’d flipped through it and took a chance in saying it when she’d agreed to meet him. The translation still haunted him.
I’m in love with you.
He was still in love with her.
Three years ago, he’d convinced himself that he wasn’t when she’d left Scranton. He had done it again when he saw her Facebook messages. But when he saw her dancing in the moonlit piazza- the drumbeat matching the thumping of his heart- he knew in that instant, that in all those years he had been lying to himself, denying what he truly wanted. What he ached for.
In retrospect it was a daring move for him to make. She’d rejected his advances in the past and who was to say she wouldn’t do it again? Perhaps it was the jovial music, the laughter from the crowds or her familiar smile that pushed him to take a chance again. Somehow Jim knew that once he’d said the words, everything else would fall into place.
***
As Pam approached the portico at Santa Maria in Cosmedin, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had tossed and turned for much of the night and was now feeling its effects.
She figured that she could sketch the Bocca della Verità while she waited for Jim. Stepping away from the crowds filing through the church, she pulled out her sketch pad and a small flat tin from her bag. From the tin she chose a thin willow charcoal stick, figuring that differentiating her technique could produce a unique result.
Sunlight bathed the top half of the Mouth of Truth, leaving the bottom half encased in shadow. In her own world, she proceeded to map out the circular shape, careful to note the brightly lit areas. With much of the detail subdued, she ran her finger lightly across the shaded elements, blending the charcoal into the page, creating a balance between light and dark.
“The legend is that if you’re given to lying and put your hand in there, it will be bitten off,” said a voice from behind her, startling her from her reverie.
Recognizing the line, she replied with a feigned Audrey Hepburn accent. “Oh! What a horrid idea!”
“Let’s see you do it.”
Pam turned to face Jim. Of course he’d recognize the Mouth of Truth from “Roman Holiday” and of course he’d remember the lines uttered by Hepburn and Peck. It’s what made him Jim.
“Hey,” she smiled.
“Can I see?” He pointed toward her sketch. She handed him the book, wiping her blackened hands on her jean capris.
“It still needs a lot of work. It’s not illuminated correctly and the façade-”
“It’s perfect,” he interrupted, his voice filled with awe. “I love the detail around the mouth. It’s amazing.”
“Thanks,” she replied shyly.
Jim carefully turned the pages, admiring the drawings she had done of sites throughout the city. “Pam, these are fantastic. I can’t believe…” he paused, his eyes leaving the page and meeting her own. “They’re beautiful.”
Pam lowered her eyes and kicked at the cobblestone with the tip of her sneaker. She took the sketch book from him, carefully returning it into her bag.
“Let’s see you do it.”
She looked at him confused. “What?”
“Let’s see you do it,” he motioned toward the Mouth. His eyes narrowed, daring her.
“No way! You first,” she laughed. “My fingers are too cute to get bitten off.”
“Oh and I suppose mine are expendable?”
“Absolutely.”
“What do you suppose my basketball team’s going to say when I go back to Scranton with nubs for fingers?”
“That maybe you should take up soccer instead?” She teased.
“Fair enough,” he said with a chuckle.
“Quit stalling, Halpert. Let’s see you man up,” she challenged.
“Fighting words there Pam.”
Grinning, she shrugged her shoulders. Jim lifted his arm, bending it at the elbow. Wiggling his fingers and shaking his wrist, he did a quick jog on the spot and bounced his head from shoulder to shoulder.
“Hurry up already, Rocky. These ruins aren’t getting any younger.”
“Ooh. Those cute fingers are attached to one bossy woman.” How he missed their banter. It was the one thing that used to get him through the monotonous days at Dunder-Mifflin.
“Ready?” He asked.
She nodded in reply. Jim slowly brought his hand to the Mouth, fingers moving dramatically, inching their way into the abyss. Before she knew it, his hand was fully inside.
“Now tell a lie,” she ordered.
Jim thought for a second. Finally, he narrowed his eyes toward Pam and said slowly: “Dwight is my hero. I just love hearing about his Lord of the Rings role playing games.”
Pam’s eyes widened. Her lips pursed in an attempt to curb her laughter, waiting for the Mouth to come crashing down on Jim’s fingers. When nothing happened, Jim burst out laughing.
“My basketball team will be happy to know I’ll still be able to spin a ball.”
“You’re not out of the woods yet, Jim.”
“Oh?”
Pausing, Pam realized that this was the moment she had to gather her courage, had to confront him about their past. “Tell me the truth Jim…”
“That I really do like Lord of the Rings role playing games…?” he asked, teasing.
“I’m serious Jim.” Her face had grown still. Her familiar smile was now replaced with a nervous quiver on her lips. “Why Karen?” She whispered.
Stunned, Jim hardly knew how to reply.
“Why?” She repeated, her voice barely audible.
He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. “I needed… I wanted to just forget,” he tried to explain, his voice catching on his words. “I needed to escape…”
“Escape?”
“I don’t know, Pam. I needed to escape everything: you, Scranton… Karen was a way to forget it all.”
“And now? Why are you here with me and not with Karen?” She asked, hesitantly, motioning at the portico.
“We broke up Pam… ever since I got your first message from Facebook, I just couldn’t…” He stopped, realizing his hand was still ridiculously in the Mouth of Truth. He pulled it out and looked at her.
“Your turn.”
Pam was surprised at the abrupt interruption in his explanation. “But-”
“Your turn,” he repeated.
She bit her bottom lip anxiously. It was the moment she’d promised herself days earlier. This was her opportunity to tell him-- to explain everything-- every mistake she’d made, every lie she’d told herself.
Moving toward the Mouth, she stared at it, daring herself to take a chance. She needed to take a chance with Jim and ultimately on what would happen if she confessed the truth. Sucking in a breath, she shoved her hand into the Mouth. Raising her eyebrows, she looked up at Jim.
“Why did you leave me Pam?” He asked, pausing. His eyes coloured with sadness. “If you’d… if you’d just told me, I would have stopped you…”
“I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t watch you with Karen…” Her voiced dipped into a whisper, fearful of his reaction. “I’d fallen in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do…”
At that moment she realized for the first time that they had even more in common then she’d initially thought.
“Why didn’t you say something Pam? An email, a phone call, anything…?” She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing how to answer. It was obvious to her what she should have done, what she could have done-- what she didn’t do.
“Sometimes you have to run away to see if someone will follow,” she said quietly.
At her words, Jim’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t find the words that would make everything better, that would make all the misunderstandings disappear.
With a sigh, Pam pulled her hand from the Mouth.
“Yeah,” she said finally, her eyes falling to her feet, her fingers playing with the strap of her bag. “Listen, I’d better-”
Before she could continue, before she could make an excuse to leave, his hands cupped her jaw line, his lips moved toward her own.
