“Pam—“

“We really have to get a move on if we want to make that appointment.” She’s fiddling with the car door handle, believing that if she pulls on it enough times it’ll magically open.  

“Pam—“ I start again.

“The realtor didn’t sound too happy, hope that doesn’t mean you’ve lost the place.”  Her casual tone betrays the fear and panic in her wandering eyes, settling on everything around her but my own.

I reluctantly unlock the car and she’s in and buckled before I can even open my own door.  With an aggravated sigh, I slide in and start the engine, intending on ignoring her for as long as possible because if she’s going to act like a kid about this, then so can I.

That lasts for about five minutes and I feel like I have to say something cool and casual just to break the unbearable silence threatening to ruin the past thirteen hours.

“We’re just tired.”

I hear her neck crack as she whips it to look at me.

“What?”

“We’re. Just. Tired.”  And I say it exactly like that, slow and easy as if I’m speaking to a five-year-old or perhaps someone standing precariously on the edge of a cliff.  “We haven’t slept in God knows how long, it’s hot outside…don’t worry about it okay?”  What else am I supposed to say?  That maybe it’s crazy enough to believe that our delirium from no sleep and intense heat is actually making us think more clearly than ever before?  Yeah, that’d go over well.

“Yeah…I know.”  She’s swinging the charm on her necklace back and forth so hard I think it might break.  She’s a blatant nervous train wreck and why this of all things makes me feel a little better, I have no idea.  But it does.  Maybe because at least I know I’m not the only one feeling foolish.  Serves me right, I suppose.  I should know better than to actually pursue a signal with Pam.  Unless I’m crazy, and I don’t think I am, we’ve got three solid years of signal exchange and every time it’s led to awkward silences and nervous laughter.  That’s just the line we’ve drawn because I’m too nice of a guy (or too cowardly) to actually do something about it.  Even if it killed me, I always made sure that she could feel safe and comfortable around me.  

And now, as I watch her practically make a noose with her necklace, I realize I’m really tired of being the nice guy.

“So,” I start, wheeling the car in front of the apartment complex.  “We can drop that whole couple act if you want.  Wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.”  I realize that the pleasure I’m getting out of watching her squirm is bordering on cruel but for some strange reason, I just don’t care.

Pam gawks at me, her mouth bobbing like a fish and eyes getting glassy as she’s not sure how to respond.  I raise my eyebrows, challenging her to come up with some kind of witty retort or maybe none at all.  Then she closes her jaw firmly and her eyes narrow till I can only see little slits of green.

“No, it’s okay.  Whatever gets you the place, right?”  Now she’s just being cruel, pushing right back with as much force as me, if not more.  

“Right.”  I spit it out and we both hastily climb out of the car, shutting the doors with a satisfying slam.

The realtor is outside looking hurried and impatient but still manages a polite, albeit annoyed smile.

“So good of you to come.  Brian Meyers,” he extends his hand and Pam cuts me off and reaches for it first.

“I’m Pam, we spoke on the phone.  And this,” she says, smoothing her hand down my arm to take my hand in her own.  “Is Jim.”

“Halpert,” I add, feeling cocky and confident from the adrenaline of this unspoken game we’re playing and I shake his hand a little too hard.

“Alright Jim, Pam, let’s uhh, show you two around.  You folks from around here?”  he asks as he leads us towards the complex.

“Scranton, Pennsylvania actually,” Pam replies.  “Yeah, you know, it’s where we met and fell in love but for some reason he just felt the need to move on to greener pastures. So to speak.”  She darts me a quick look and I can feel anger start to stir uneasily in my stomach.

“Right then,” Brian clears his throat uneasily, fumbling with some keys as he opens the door to one of the model apartments.  “Well, this is one of our standard units: one bedroom, one bath, kitchen and living area.  Very cozy place.”

I release Pam’s hand and take a turn around the living room.  I whistle, long and exaggerated.  “Well, there’s not a ton of room.  It’ll make having the guys over a little difficult, but Pam’s used to entertaining for big crowds, aren’t you Pam?”  She folds her arms and stares back at me, hurt masked behind increasing aggravation.

“Well I try and let him take it easy on big game days.  Eight hours a day, five days a week at a job selling paper?  I always said he deserved to do better.”
Wow, low blows.  From the looks of it, neither one of us are going to back down from all this pent up rage anytime soon, and even though it feels like I’m getting the crap kicked out of me, I push on.

“How could I do better?  I have you, babe!”  I saunter over to her, noting Brian out of the corner of my eye adjusting his tie and looking awkward as hell.  I slip an arm around her waist and give her a tight squeeze.  She looks like she might be sick.  “See, Brian, we’ve been together for—gosh, how long has it been—three years now?  Getting this place together is just the first step towards the big ‘m’ word—marriage,” I clarify though it’s pretty obvious all parties were following along.  “It’ll happen eventually, you know that…right, Pam?”  

This time she actually looks like she really will be sick; pale face, wide eyes, the cherry red of her lips fainting into a soft pink hue.  Which is why it’s no surprise when she excuses herself and runs out the door.  The second loud slam of the day leaves just me and Brian, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, uh…perhaps you folks would like to come back another time.  Here’s my card,” he holds it out to me and all I can do is stare at it, my own feeling of nausea bubbling within me.  I make a rude exit, not even saying “goodbye” or “thank you” or even “we were just rehearsing for a play.”  I run out of there, my eyes scanning everywhere for a sign of her when down the street I see a small figure waving frantically at something in the middle of the busy traffic.  I sprint towards her, my heart thumping in time with my feet and I’m out of breath and a little sweaty by the time I reach her for her hand.  

“Pam—“

“Just don’t, Jim, okay?  I’m done.”

“What are you talking about?“

“Is this what you had in mind?  Huh?”  She’s practically hysterical, yelling at me on the sidewalk with tears choking her voice.  “Is this what you had planned for this day?  Trying to kiss me?  Insulting me? Making a joke of my engagement in front of a complete stranger?”

No, quite frankly, that wasn’t my plan.  I don’t even know what the hell my plan was except to delay the inevitable.  And as she stands there, breathing harder than I am and her so much emotion packed into one beautiful face, I have no answer for her.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says bitterly as though reading my mind.  She returns to her frantic waving until a lone taxi finally pulls up next to her.  

That’s when I panic.

“No, wait, Pam, stop—“ short, monosyllabic words fly out of my mouth and yet none reach her as she quickly slides in and takes off, bright yellow merging into the blue ahead.

11:59 am