Pam awoke the next morning, her head aching and eyes swollen. Her chest felt tight and her muscles heavy. She lay there for a moment in her childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t want to move, think, or feel, but she knew she had to face the day eventually.
She had scared her parents half to death showing up in the middle of the night, crying hysterically, but they had taken her in willingly, letting her cry herself to sleep. They certainly deserved an explanation for the state of her appearance on their doorstep.
She stumbled out of bed, grabbing her old tattered robe she used to wear in high school, and headed down the stairs. As she made her way to the kitchen, she thought about how much in her life hand changed in one day. The more she thought about it, the more her head ached, so she determined to push those thoughts away until she found some coffee.
“Hi sweetie,” Her mother said, greeting her gently as Pam stumbled into the kitchen, “how are you feeling this morning?”
Pam didn’t quite know how to respond. She felt better in the sense that she wasn’t bawling her eyes out, but she felt completely physically and emotionally drained.
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to sound stronger than she felt.
Her mother smiled gently, handing her a much needed cup of coffee. There was a pause as Pam took a large gulp, savoring the warm liquid as it traveled down her throat, pulsating energy through her almost immediately. Pam swore that sometimes she felt the effects of caffeine instantaneously.
“I’m sorry I came so late last night,” Pam began, looking down into the mug in her hands, feeling somewhat sheepish.
“That’s fine, we’re glad we can help,” her mother responded. Pam could tell her mom didn’t want to pry, but she was dying to know why her daughter had ended up on her doorstep in the middle of the night crying about something horrible she had done.
“I really screwed up mom,” Pam said, sitting on the nearby stool, setting her mug on the countertop. Her mother followed suit, as if bracing herself for any discomfort her daughter’s tale might bring.
After some slight hemming and hawing, Pam told her mother everything that had happened the day before. Pam told her about going to the art fair with Jim, offering to make him dinner as a thank you, Roy showing up and getting angry, Roy’s accusation, her going to Jim to find out if what Roy said was true, how horribly that had backfired, and how she had realized that she was in love with Jim. Pam explained it all to her mother, seeking her mother’s ever present guidance and wisdom for how to repair the damage she had caused.
“I’ve ruined everything mom,” she concluded, feeling her throat close up, “And I don’t know what to do. I’m just so confused and lost.”
Her mom grabbed the nearby Kleenex box and plopped it unceremoniously in front of Pam, offering a small, sad smile.
Pam offered a mirthless laugh in return, swiping a tissue from the box and blowing her nose.
Cynthia Beesly knew her daughter well. In fact, she suspected she knew her daughter better than her daughter knew herself on occasion. From the first moment that Pam had mentioned Jim, she had known her daughter held him in high regard. Pam had always spoken of him warmly, and not a weekly phone call went by without a tale on something humorous Jim had done. Cynthia had been a little concerned that her daughter might be developing feelings for Jim, regardless of her engagement to Roy.
Though Cynthia had always liked Roy, she had some reservations about the couple that had developed. Though she knew Roy was, at least on some level, committed to Pam, she was less certain about his ability to fill her needs and allow her to be the person she wanted to be. Though her daughter was by nature quiet and reserved, she knew the passionate fire that had once glowed brightly within her. It had waxed and waned over the years spent with Roy, and Cynthia mourned the loss of the part of her daughter that was driven to pursue her dreams. She had feared that that passion might be permanently snuffed out, but over the past couple of years, she had seen it start to grow again, little by little. Pam talked more now about maybe taking art classes, wanting to meet local artists, or little paintings she had done. Cynthia wondered secretly if this small growth in Pam’s determination should be attributed to Jim’s influence in her daughter’s life.
As Pam rehashed all the details of the past day’s events, Cynthia began to realize a very important, but very delicate truth. Roy didn’t understand or truly appreciate her daughter, and Pam was beginning to realize it. But Jim did understand her daughter, and Pam was beginning to realize that too. She also knew, even before her daughter had uttered the words that Pam was in love with Jim. Jim provided everything that Roy lacked. Jim was the one supporting her. Jim was the one she really needed.
Cynthia knew that she had to pick her words carefully. She had to advise, but not demand; guide but not steer. Pam had to come to her own conclusions on her own time, Cynthia’s role was just to point her in the right direction.
“Pam, honey,” she began, “you know that I love Roy, I do. He’s always been good to you. You two have a long, wonderful history together.” She paused, waiting for her daughter to meet her gaze. Pam looked up, a little uncertainly.
“Pam, you need to figure out if spending your life with Roy is what you really want. If he’s the one you want to be with you when wonderful things happen in your life. If he’s the one you want beside you when your world falls apart. You need to decide if Roy is someone who will love you for who you are, even in your ugliest, worst moments.”
Cynthia’s heart swelled with sadness as she watched her daughter’s face crumple. She knew she wasn’t saying anything that Pam had not thought about in the deep recesses of her own mind, but Cynthia also knew that sometimes putting voice to those thoughts made them more horrifically real. She reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand gently.
“Pam, ultimately this can’t be about Roy. It can’t be about Jim. It has to be about you, and what you deserve; what you want from your life.”
“Mom,” Pam said, choking back the sob threatening to break through her defenses, “I just don’t know…” she trailed off.
“I know. I know it’s hard. But you need to think about you. About who you want to be, what you want to do. And then you need to decide if Roy Anderson is the man you want beside you through it all. If he’s the one that will make you stronger when you feel weak; make you smile when you are unhappy.”
Pam looked up at her mother’s honest eyes. She had known it would come down to this. Somehow her mom always knew the words to say. They didn’t always make her feel better, but ultimately hearing the uncomfortable truth was better than a thousand placating phrases.
She nodded solemnly at her mother. A silence stretched between them, and though it probably should have taken her days if not months to really think through all of her hopes and dreams, she found it was surprisingly easy to call to mind what she wanted from life. And she also knew virtually instantaneously who she wanted beside her through the peaks and valleys ahead of her.
And the answer was different than it had always been before.
But it was right.
“Mom,” Pam began after a few moments of silent reflection, “I need your help.”
“Anything.” Cynthia held her breath as her daughter continued, hoping for strength to shine through in her daughter.
Pam met her mother’s gaze with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed, “Can you help me cancel the wedding? And I’ll need to find another apartment.” Pam felt slightly sick with fear at actually saying the words out loud. She wasn’t certain she had the strength to do this, but she knew it was what she needed.
“Okay.” Cynthia replied simply.
She smiled genuinely at her daughter then, knowing Pam was going to be okay. She knew that Pam was going to reclaim her lost passion, and with a man who loved her for it.
“Mom,” Pam said softly, her voice faltering slightly, “I’m really scared.” She felt a wave of sadness wash over her at the thought that the last ten years she had spent building a life with Roy were about to be brought to a close. She felt fear and uncertainty clouding her path as it never had before. She felt distressed at the thought of Jim’s anger and pain, all brought about because of her folly.
“I know. I know it may not feel like right now that you’re going to be okay, but you are. Your father and I will help you in whatever way we can.” Cynthia squeezed Pam’s hand again, trying to convey the comfort and support she knew her daughter needed now more than ever before.
“What about Jim. How do I fix…” Pam began, but her mother cut her off before she could continue the thought.
“If he really loves you, which I know he does, he’ll understand.” Cynthia said simply.
Pam nodded slightly. She knew her mother was right. Jim would understand, as he always had before. It was who he was. It was part of why she loved him.
Pam took a deep, rejuvenating breath. She would do this. She would be strong. She would start again.
And deep down, she knew she would not be alone.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry this has taken FOREVER. Writer's block is a big jerk.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter End Notes:
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Reviews are always mighty nice! :)
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