Mid-October 2005

She sat on her bed and watched the cold autumn rain falling down the glass window panes of her apartment. She was glad that she didn’t have to work today; she was glad that she didn’t have to go to class. She was perfectly happy to stay inside and just watch the rain fall from her bed. She enjoyed days like these. She couldn’t remember when she had been able to spend an entire Sunday sitting in a window watching the rain when she had lived in Pennsylvania. Her Sundays with Roy had usually been filled with watching football or basketball while he invited too many friends over and she ended up playing the typical domestic housewife role of making nachos or pizza and serving everyone beer.

She wondered how Roy was doing back in Pennsylvania. She had made a desperate attempt to completely cut ties with him. She didn’t want to feel his pull on her anymore and she didn’t want to feel tricked into going back to him. The entire summer he would call her at least twice a week, sometimes everyday. She rarely ever returned his phone calls and she avoided speaking to him. After she moved to New York, she heard from him a lot less, but every once in a while after leaving class; she would notice a new voicemail message from him. She would listen to his voice without much interest and send him an e-mail a few days later. She was glad that he hadn’t hurt himself or anyone else. The greatest fear she had felt in her heart immediately after leaving was the phone call that she might receive from him from prison. She was endlessly thankful it never came.

**

Her mother helped her move to New York City in the middle of August during a horrendous heat wave. The two of them had spent most of July constantly perusing the classified ads and apartment listing for New York City. Pam had become dismayed when so many of the apartments listed were well over $1,000 a month for a small one bedroom. She had no idea how she would manage to pay for that, school tuition, art supplies, food, and everything else that she would need to furnish an apartment.

The first week in August, Pam finally caught a break. While searching through the apartment listings on the internet, she found several listings for open studio apartments for under $1,000 a month, located between three and five miles away from where she would be taking most of her art classes. She immediately made plans for that weekend to go and visit the city to check out three different apartments.

The first apartment she looked at was located directly above an Indian restaurant. The walls reeked of curry and even in the middle of the day, she could hear people below her feet arguing in the kitchen. If that hadn’t been bad enough, all of the windows in the place faced brick walls of neighboring buildings and she was positive that the entire living space was no larger than the master bedroom that she had shared with Roy.

The second apartment that she made an appointment to look at was a lovely location. However, although it had its ups and some major downs. As she walked around, the hardwood floor squeaked horribly and when she started walking along the walls she was immediately frightened by the neighbor banging and screaming against the wall she figured she’d put a bed.

“Don’t worry about him, he goes to sleep early,” the landlord had said when he saw Pam’s frightened expression.

“Are the walls really this thin?” she had asked and her answer was a casual shrug.

The third apartment had been the apartment she decided on. The landlord was a pleasant older woman who lived below the apartment she was looking at. It was a three story row of buildings and the apartment was located directly between a bakery and flower shop. She smiled as she walked up the staircase, basking in the warm scent of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. The apartment was a pleasant third story room with a couple of tall built-in shelving units. The room was large enough for a bed, a small kitchen table and maybe a small couch with a little coffee table with enough open space in the middle for Pam to paint and draw. The walls were thick and there was a hush in the air as she wandered around the empty space. What really sold her on the location in the end was the huge row of windows along where she figured she’d put a bed. When she looked out the window she had smiled and clapped her hands with glee because the apartment looked out over the street and a small city park with large oak trees and a small swing set, slide and merry-go-round for children.

“I’ll take it,” she immediately said, turning around to the woman standing in the door, clasping her hands to her chest.

“Really?” the woman asked with her eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, yes,” Pam replied. “A hundred times yes!”

“Wow…” the woman said as she continued to look at Pam with shock. “I can’t believe it. I just listed this place the other day!”

The two women had immediately gone down to the large two bedroom apartment the landlord lived in – the smell of cookies following them through the halls – and Pam signed a lease without hesitation.

**

“I love these windows,” Pam said quietly to herself as her finger followed a fat droplet of water slowly tricking down the pane of glass in front of her eyes.

In the past couple of weeks, the vibrant colors of the oak trees in the park had been a perfect subject for her watercolors. Children playing on the merry-go-round and slipping down the slide had been inspiration for lively black and white charcoal drawings. She wondered how she had become so fortunate to find the perfect spot for an aspiring artist like herself.

**

“Mom, I really do not need this much furniture,” she had repeated as her mother gathered up things from the house for Pam to take for her move.

“Of course you do, honey!” her mother had exclaimed as she dragged up the large panel of the top of a table from the basement.

“Mom,” Pam said flatly. “This table will take up my entire living room area. I live in a studio apartment. Seriously, the entire place is probably the size of our living room.”

“Oh,” her mother said as her face fell slightly.

“I just need a little table, a couple of little chairs, a small couch – like maybe that futon that’s been in the basement since Kate graduated from college, and maybe a couple of little tables to make up an end table or a coffee table.”

“But this is going to be your home, Pam.”

“And my home is tiny, mom.” She looked out towards her mother’s car, a full size mattress strapped to the roof and some duffel bags piled up in the back seat. “I’m looking for simplicity, here.”

Her mother drove her to New York City, belongings packed securely in the back of her car. She had read and heard from a lot of people there was no need to bring her car with her to a big city like New York, so she left it behind with her mother.

Pam moved into her apartment with record speed. She forgot what it had been like to live so simply. The home she had shared with Roy in the suburbs had been so elaborate, moving in had been such an ordeal because every piece of furniture had to be arranged in just the right way and they both had to agree on where everything went. In this small studio apartment, Pam only had a couple pieces of furniture; she only had the most basic items to start out with. Packing things away was not difficult or tedious. Arranging her furniture the way that she wanted was so liberating. She wanted her bed against the windows and her sofa facing the kitchen, a small television in the corner so she could watch TV if she was sitting on the couch, lying in bed or making herself dinner; and she could, she could do what she wanted.

“Honey, you hardly have any kitchen utensils…” her mother said as she unpacked a box of kitchen necessities.

“I know,” she said as she hung up a string of curtains along the windows, “but I have everything that I need, I don’t need anymore.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I have a ton of pots and pans at home that I never use, I can bring them to you.”

Pam nodded quietly as she watched a man in a business suit buy a bouquet of flowers from the shop on the corner.

“Maybe I’ll get flowers like that from someone like that…” she thought to herself as she smiled.

**

She wondered what the area would be like in the winter. She loved moving in during the peak of the summer months – even if it had been unbearably hot the first couple of weeks. She was able to see all of the amazing neighborhood dynamics. She had watched people filing in and out of the bakery throughout the day, she had watched men and women buying flowers, sometimes just single rose, sometimes enormous bouquets that she both envied and despised. She loved that it was getting close to Halloween, but the neighborhood had died down a bit since the warmer days of the past couple of months. She missed seeing all of the children running around the little park daily after school was out, sure they were still there but not nearly in the numbers that they had been before and they didn’t stay nearly as long as they used to.

Fewer people out and about in the neighborhood made her feel safer too. Granted, her boss still insisted on walking her home every evening because she wasn’t a “true New Yorker” and he had provided her with pepper spray after their first day of working together. She was grateful that her boss was so personable, had a lot of care and concern for his employee’s well-being. However, he was still a little odd.

**

“Hi, I’m Pam Beesly, I’m here for the interview,” she said shaking the hand of the man in the glasses that seemed to be a decade out of style.

“Pam,” he said, please sit. She sat on a barstool next to him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” she said politely as she folded her hands in her lap. She hoped she didn’t blow this interview. It was just for a waitress position, but still. She needed the money and she couldn’t think of many other things she would be good at other than this. After all, she had been waiting on Roy for the past nine years.

“I am Dwight Schrute, the owner of this here restaurant establishment,” he said, with maybe a little too much formality.

“Nice to meet you,” she said with a courteous nod.

“So Pam, what makes you think that you can be a waitress?” he asked, her brow furrowed slightly at the odd question.

“I’ve had a couple of waitress jobs in the past,” she replied slowly. “And I figure that I’ve been waiting on my ex-fiancé for the past nine years so…”

“Ex-fiancé?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied as she laughed nervously. “Made it to the wedding, but couldn’t go any further.” Dwight nodded thoughtfully.

“So are you new to the city?” he asked. She nodded.

“Just moved in about a week ago,” she replied.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“Art school,” she replied.

“Oh, so you’re an artist?” he asked. She nodded. “Question, can you paint vegetables or…animals?”

“I think that I can paint or draw just about anything that you set down in front of me,” she said with a cautious look around her. Was he serious? He nodded thoughtfully.

“Question, do you like beets?” he asked. Her eyes widened and she tried to stifle a giggle as she looked into his stoic face.

“I…I guess?” she replied softly.

“Good, because we here at The Golden Beet are famous for our borscht,” he announced proudly.

“Really?” Pam asked with a speculative eyebrow raise. She watched as a small petite blonde walked past her with a tray full of small salads and shook her head ‘no’.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Another question…do you have strong arms?”

“I guess,” she said as she rubbed her bicep tentatively.

“Yes…it looks like you do,” he said thoughtfully. “How are you around people who are or may act better than you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Businessmen, businesswomen, diplomats, U.N. speakers,” he listed.

“Do you honestly have diplomats and U.N. speakers come in here on a regular basis?”

“No, but we always like to be prepared,” he said. “We do have quite a few business people come in though. We offer some good lunch and dinner specials that they like to take advantage of.” Pam nodded. “We like to pride ourselves on fast service. Can you serve fast?”

“I…sure,” she stammered.

“Good,” he kept nodding thoughtfully. “Pam, stand up for me.”

“Oh, okay,” she said as she pushed herself away from the bar and stood up.

“Nice…turn around,” he said. She turned around slowly, wondering what he was looking for and wondering if he was always this strange of a man. “Good form. I think you’d make an excellent waitress.”

“Really?” she asked with an enthusiastic smile on her face finally.

“Certainly,” he replied. “When are you free to work?”

“As soon as you want me to start!” she exclaimed happily.

“When are your classes?” he asked.

“Classes…” she replied slowly. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”

“What times?” he asked.

“Noon until six, I think,” she replied. He nodded.

“I’ll hire you for…” he thought and his fingers flicked as he counted in his mind. “Thirty hours a week. You’re free on weekends, right?” She nodded. “Great. Is thirty hours okay with you?” Pam nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely,” she said with a smile.

“Great. Now, you’ll need to dress in a black or brown skirt or pants and a dark red top…you know, the beets.”

“Right…” she said slowly.

“If you don’t have anything or if you can’t afford anything, I’m willing to buy you one outfit. But only one.”

“Really?”

“I like to treat my employees with utmost respect,” he said. “Not many restaurant managers are as nice as I am.”

“That’s…”

“Where do you live?” he interrupted.

“Um…about a mile and a half east…”

“I will walk you home the nights you work late,” he interrupted.

“Oh, no, Dwight, that’s not…”

“Absolutely necessary,” he said quickly. “A young, pretty girl like you, new to the city needs all the protection that she can get.”

“But I think the neighborhood is pretty…”

“I will walk you home,” he said with finality.

“Oh…okay,” she said with a bit of uncertainty wavering in her voice.

“Don’t worry, he’ll keep you safe,” the petite blonde said quietly as she passed by the two of them again. Pam watched as Dwight winked at her and she skittered back into the kitchen.

**

She was so grateful for that job, though she enjoyed days like today that she could take off and do whatever she wanted. It paid pretty much the same as any other waitress job in New York City, but she was able to rake in hundreds of dollars in tips from generous businesspeople. Dwight hadn’t been lying when he told her that there were a lot of professional people that came in for food and they all seemed to respond amazingly to her service.

There was one particular group of businessmen that she really liked. They came in every Monday and Friday for lunch, right in the middle of her shift and always sat at one of the tables that she waitressed at. She had even seen them a couple of Saturday evenings that she worked. They always sat in the same exact spot, and they always tipped her far better than she could ever dream of. She had never been able to catch what business they were in, or even all of their names. She knew the loud, boisterous one was Michael, but that was only because the other two were always insistently telling him to keep his voice down.

The three men were the entire reason she looked forward to Mondays. When the restaurant wasn’t busy, she would sit and talk with them for a little while. When the restaurant was really busy, the tallest would always slink back to the bathrooms after he was done eating and purposefully stop and tell Pam what a wonderful job she did or how great the food was as he passed by the swinging doors of the kitchen where she was always standing.

“Why don’t I know his name?” she asked against the glass as her hand swept across the window pane. She sighed with a smile. “I suppose I have a goal for tomorrow.”