A Tale of Two Guys

Chapter 3

Jim

When the alarm clock went off with its annoying buzz, Jim was already awake, though his hand shot out automatically and hit the snooze button, out of long habit. It was nice to have that extra ten minutes to remember last night, and try to figure out exactly why he was so damn happy this morning. Surprisingly, he had slept really well, for the first time in what felt like years. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from his soul. Finally, after all these months, he had acted, told Pam how he felt. Kissed her. The thought of the kiss, propelled him out of bed, before the snooze alarm even went off, and he found himself singing in the shower, silly songs, forever warped by Michael. "Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer…you have won a tiny Dundee, " he sang, making faces at his lousy singing voice. It didn’t matter...American Idol wasn’t his dream. Pam was his dream, and last night he had moved to make his dream come true.

He took extra effort with his hair. Not that it mattered: his hair always did its own thing regardless. He shaved carefully, and picked out his favorite shirt, a light blue one that Pam had once said she liked. As he tied his tie, he noticed his navy blue sweater, on the chair, where he had tossed it last night. He picked it up and looked around, half expecting to see cameramen recording this for posterity. He was alone, however, and so he sniffed the sweater, feeling just a little weird. Yes. It smelled like her. She didn’t wear a lot of perfume, or makeup either, but still he could sense her. It was stupid; probably his imagination, but he didn’t care.

In the kitchen, he scarfed down an enormous bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, with two pieces of toast and a cup of coffee. When he put his dishes in the sink he saw that it was only 7:45. He would be ridiculously early. But he did have to talk to Michael and Toby..tell them about the transfer, if they didn’t know already. He had only hastily agreed to it last night after Pam had pretty much shot him down.

But, once faced with the prospect of actually leaving for work, Jim’s good mood evaporated and a knot of apprehension began to form in his stomach. He was sorry now that he had eaten so much breakfast. Yes, the kiss had been wonderful; awe inspiring, in fact, but in reality, nothing was settled. The jury was still very much out. Pam was thinking things over, which was a good thing, (right?) Jim told himself as he got into his car. She hadn’t rejected him out right. And today was his last day at Dunder Mifflin, Scranton. That was huge, too. What the hell had he been thinking of, making all of these life-changing decisions in one night?

When he had met with Jan in New York last week she had told him that the Stamford branch was in trouble. They had only had 4 percent growth last year, which put them right behind good old Scranton. Then, to make matters worse, the Regional Sales Manager had suffered a serious heart attack, which put him out of action for at least a few months if not permanently. Because Jim would be moving between branches, Corporate had waived the two-week notice he would ordinarily have been required to give. They needed him there ASAP. The Branch manager, Josh Porter, was, according to Jan, a really good guy, with almost no interest in show business. So working there would probably be a much more serious proposition than goofing around in Scranton had been. In fact, it felt suspiciously like a career, something Jim had, up till now, avoided like the plague. Still, maybe it was time...he wasn’t a kid anymore...hell, he was almost thirty. If he was planning to get married one day (Pam!) the promotion and more money would be a very good thing. And, if nothing else, it would look good on his resume in case his dream job ever did come along.

Jim pulled into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot, a good fifteen minutes early. Damn…Phil, Steve and Berta were already there...Jim knew their cars. That meant today was a filming day. Of course. Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the documentary crew always seemed to show up when they sensed a little drama in the making. Of course the camera crew had been at Casino Night, but Jim seriously hoped that Phil hadn’t been lurking in the bushes when he had talked to Pam.

Roy's truck wasn’t there yet. God. Roy. What a really rotten thing to do, moving in on a guy’s fiancée like that. Jim didn’t like Roy much, and thought he was wrong for Pam, but still there was that whole guy code, and he had violated it. He wondered if Roy was planning to punch him out. Jim wasn’t exactly a fighter, and Roy was bigger than he was, not taller, but bulkier, with more muscle. But if it came to that, he guessed he could hold his own in a fair fight. Maybe. Well, he’d just have to face the consequences...Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, he thought to himself as he walked into the office.

The place was pretty empty. The camera guys were setting up in their preferred spots. Michael was in his office on the telephone. People would be drifting in any time now. There was Toby, and of course, Angela, right on time, looking a bit tired. Dwight strolled in and nodded formally to Angela, causing Jim to wonder once again if there was something going on between them. But surely Pam would have told him if she had found out anything juicy. For one moment, Jim wished that last night had never happened. That everybody would come in, same as always, that he would tease Dwight and laugh at Michael and flirt with Pam, same as always. That nothing would have changed. But he looked at his desk and his telephone, appearing so ordinary in the daylight, and remembering once again, the kiss, he knew that nothing would ever be the same.

He had an e-mail. From Jan. He knew that Pam didn’t have a personal computer at home. Roy didn’t want one. As Pam once quoted to Jim, he didn’t "see the point of sitting around all night googling shit." And Pam got to use the Internet at work, so really why spend all that money?

Jan had E-mailed him some forms to fill out, and told him that she was calling Michael and Toby, and explaining about the transfer, so there should be no problems at his end. And she was looking forward to hearing from him when he got settled in Stamford, etc. Poor Jan, she had been really upset last night. Imagine driving two hours to hang out with Michael! And then he shows up with another date. Stuff like that probably wouldn’t happen with his new boss. Kind of a shame, actually. Michael was at least entertaining. How on earth would he cope with the boredom of selling paper without Michael and Dwight to mock, or Pam to revive him?

Pam was late. Everybody else was here, and people were congregating in the break room, getting coffee, laughing about last night, congratulating Creed on winning the big prize of the evening. Downstairs, Jim knew the warehouse was probably a mess, and the guys had their work cut out for them. Was Roy there yet? Maybe Pam was sick or they had had a horrible fight. Several frightening scenarios flashed though Jim’s mind, suggested by the various crime shows he watched regularly. He didn’t seriously think that Roy was the murderer type, but then again how did he really know? Should he call Pam? Would that make things worse?

Or, maybe she hadn’t told him anything. Maybe last night had meant nothing at all to Pam, and she and Roy had just overslept or were stopping off on the way to work to order their wedding cake. Jim felt sick to his stomach, his happy anticipation from earlier having curdled into dread. Where was she? What, if anything, had she decided? Was the wedding still on? Was Roy greasing up his chain saw?

"Hey Jimerino, "Jim jumped a foot, but it was only Michael, with Dwight, as always, lurking close behind." Jan tells me that you’re leaving our happy home. Well, I just want you to know that I fully understand. Birds gotta swim, fish gotta, uh, fly...well actually it’s the other way around, but you know what I mean. Time to leave the nest. Soar with the eagles. March with the penguins! We’ll be sorry to see you go.."

"Not me!" Dwight interrupted; his eyes alight with manic glee.

"…But there will be a party in your honor this afternoon. Partay!"

"Uh...thanks, Michael. That’s really nice of you." Michael went back to his office.

"I’m taking all your accounts!" Dwight hissed, joyously.

"I don’t know, Dwight," Jim said, shaking his head at Dwight, sadly, "You may be sorry you let this job get away. Jan told me, "he lowered his voice to a whisper, "that the position of Regional Sales Manager actually comes with a special Sales Manager Hat...that I get to wear when rallying my troops."

"It does not!" Dwight hissed jealously, "Does it?"

"I’ll send you a picture, "promised Jim, remembering the antique pith helmet in his Grandmother’s attic. There was really no reason to stop teasing Dwight, even if he was going to be in a different state, Jim decided.

Pam finally came in about a half an hour later, looking pale and flustered, and not at all happy. She started bustling around her desk, sorting messages that had come in over the answering machine. Jim tried, but couldn’t see her hands, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes, just got to work at her computer.

A few minutes later, he saw the e-mail notice pop up on his computer screen. From Pam. Thank God.

"Jim," he read,

"Is today weird, or what? I called off my wedding this morning. I can’t even think about the mess this is going to cause with my family, and Roy’s family, not to mention all the phone calls I have to make. And Roy is pretty upset as you can imagine. I don’t think he’s going to beat you up or anything, but you might want to stay out of his way. I told him it wasn’t your fault, that the breakup wasn’t really about you. I was thinking all last night about a lot of things. About that internship in NYC, and how I’m really not ready to settle down right now. There are things I want to do with my life, things I haven’t let myself think about. Just like I never let myself think about you.

I don’t know what to do or how to act. And the damn cameras are here, too. Every time I look up Phil is focusing on me. He knows something is up, I can just tell. Maybe you should come over and get some jellybeans or something, so they’ll think it’s all normal. Oh, I forgot to bring any this morning, and the bowl is empty. So much for that brilliant plan.

Is it really your last day? I can’t believe it. How far away is Stamford, anyway? Map Quest says 2 ½ hours. But only 58 minutes from New York. Is this a promotion? Are you really going to be a manager? I hope that you’ve studied Michael enough, so that you can imitate his special managerial style. Damn! Damn! Damn! I’ve got to talk to you! Meet me in the breakroom at 10.

Pam"

Jim looked up. Pam was looking at him expectantly. Jim nodded, and smiled back. He felt a tremendous sense of relief at her note. No, it wasn’t a declaration of love, but the wedding was off! And there was hope. And she wanted to talk to him. So, it was all good. But first, there was something he had to do. He looked up at the clock, 9:30. Plenty of time to meet Pam at 10:00, if he survived.