Karen’s last day at Dunder-Mifflin Scranton is a smorgasbord of awkward silences punctuated with unhindered staring contests and tight lines that don’t even pretend to be smiles anymore.
At first Pam and Jim vow not to take the tension out on each other, but that falls apart when Jim stares at Karen’s back too long for Pam’s taste, and then Jim is upset with her because she’s pissed at him, and Karen is perpetually steely toward both of them, so none of them are speaking to each other by the time the hour hand hits five o’clock. Michael makes a speech about jumping ship and how “doin’ it on company time can only lead to heartbreak,” namely his own, which makes the situation even worse.
Jim leaves in what could only be described as a huff without a word to either woman, and Pam is suddenly very glad that she took her own car to work. She’s trying to get it together and leave the office with some semblance of grace when she glances up and realizes there are only the two of them left.
Black and white fighting over grey.
Sky and land pushing in on air.
The two acute angles in a very obtuse triangle.
It seems as if they will have no choice but to mutter goodbyes and good lucks that she only truly means on a moral level.
If Karen is bothered by the fact that they are currently in a room together with no supervision (Pam doesn’t think they’ll go all cage match but you never know) she isn’t showing it. She’s typing out a final sentence on her keyboard, dotting the period with a satisfying clink and shutting down her computer with a sense of gratification. Placing the last picture frame – her mom and dad at a resort in Aspen – into the cardboard box, she stands and rolls her chair under her desk.
There is no sentimentality in the way she turns her back on her desk and Pam is so sure that she’ll leave without so much as a word in her direction that she almost thinks she’s hallucinating when Karen makes a confident beeline toward reception.
Karen taps her fingers in one cascade on the hard surface, and Pam almost thinks she’s mocking her, but her face is totally serious.
“So, you win.”
Pam can’t bottle the confusion that washes across her face because, well… what?
“Excuse me, huh?”
Karen looks at her with something she can’t quite place… respect?
“You managed what I couldn’t. Congratulations Pam, you own his ass.”
“That’s not what – I’m not…” her words flutter and fade under the scrutiny of air, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as her eyes widen.
But Karen plows through, as though Pam never attempted denial.
“I admire your technique. Frankly patience has never been my thing but your performance was admirable.”
“You think I…” Pam’s mouth hangs open a little, her mind too busy to lock her jaw shut. “You think I planned this whole thing?”
Karen smiles this time, patting Pam’s hand with her free limb and hefting the cardboard box of her personal effects higher into her arms.
“You can quit the innocent act now. You win, he’s all yours. I secede.” Karen makes a small bowing gesture before turning toward the door. “Oh, and Pam?” she twirls toward her again, “Don’t abuse it, okay? Jim is…” she smirks, “delicate. Don’t break him.”
Pam manages to breathe out a “will do” before Karen’s form disappears for the last time around the corner.
She considers following her, making the other woman see that she wasn’t manipulative like that. She wants her to realize that for the past year she had just been depressed and in love and alone, trying to determine whether this was a rut she could dig herself out of. But then she looks back at the night of Phyllis’ wedding and how she had purposely chosen the route through the aisles between tables that put her and Roy straight into Jim’s eye line.
So maybe Karen wasn’t exactly wrong, but she wasn’t exactly right either. It wasn’t only about the chase, because her trophy at the end was more than a hunk of gold to sit on a shelf. He was real and alive and loved her too. So Jim wasn’t just a consolation prize, because as it turned out Pam was the only one that really wanted him for him.
