I was in the front yard watering the flowers when she came home from her parents’ that Monday afternoon.  I’d really missed her and couldn’t wait to have her back home with me.  I had dinner all planned - steaks for the grill - and I’d bought a bottle of sparkling cider for her.  When she pulled the car into the driveway, I waved and shut the hose off.   I jogged around to open the car door for her and she held her arms up for me to pull her out. I bent down so she could put her arms around my neck, and when I got her to her feet, I think she actually said, “Oof.”

“Look at you!” I laughed.  It looked like the baby had almost doubled in size just over the weekend.

“I popped,” she said, and she sounded so pitiful, I put my arms around her and kissed her neck.  We had a couple months to go, but she finally really looked pregnant and just…adorable.

“I really missed you,” I told her.

“Well, you can’t miss me now!  I’m everywhere!”

“Stop!  You look great.”

“I’m enormous.”

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Why don’t you go out to the patio and put your feet up?  I was just going to start getting dinner ready.”

“What are we having?”

“Steak, baked potatoes…it’s all ready to go on the grill.”

“God, that sounds great!  I’m starving!” 

I swear, it was like the visit to her mom’s had lit her appetite on fire.  I’d never seen her eat like this!  It seemed like every time I looked up at work, I’d catch her coming back from the kitchen with something…like a yogurt…or a candy bar…or an orange…or a bag of chips.  And that was all in one day!  When I caught her staring off into space with her chin in her hand late one afternoon and IM’d her, she’d jumped at the alert. 

JHalpert:  What are you thinking about over there?

PHalpert:  Jerky.

JHalpert:  Hey, it’s just a question.

PHalpert:  No, beef jerky.

PHalpert:  Oh my God, I’m daydreaming about beef jerky. 

One day last week she said, ‘hey, how about going out for lunch today?’ and I reminded her that we’d packed lunches and she admitted she’d eaten my sandwich when I was on a conference call in Michael’s office.  At 10:00.  This morning, I walked into the kitchen for coffee and heard her lecturing Stanley about his diabetes as he was reaching for the last donut in the box.  He gave up and walked away, shaking his head.  I’m not saying she doesn’t care about Stanley’s health, but she was eyeballing that donut the whole time.  When he left, she took a huge bite before anyone else tried to claim it, and she turned to me with powdered sugar all over her mouth and said around the donut, “I think it’s free cone day at Baskin-Robbins.” 

When she asked what I was laughing at, little bits of powdered sugar flew out of her mouth.

“Watch it!  That donut’s trying to escape!”  She snorted and had to cover her mouth with her hand.

“Nice, Beesly.  Is this how you’re going to behave when I take you away this weekend?”

“Ohhh, so it’s a place where I have to be on my best behavior, huh?”

“Are you asking me if it’s a place so fancy you have to keep your food in your mouth while you’re chewing?  The answer is yes, Pam.” 

“Hmm…are you taking me to the White House?”

We’d been playing this game ever since she came back from visiting her parents.  I’d been teasing her with fake clues about where we were going and she played along, but not knowing was driving her a little crazy.  It hadn’t been easy keeping it from her all this time and even though we were leaving later that afternoon, she wasn’t letting up.  She was pretty excited.

“Nope.  Not the White House.”

“How am I going to know what to pack?  Are you going to give me a list, like Michael?  Do I need a snorkel and tap shoes?”

“I was planning on packing for you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No…what?  You don’t think I could?”

“You probably could…but what if I don’t like what you pack?”

“I guess you’re just going to have to trust me.”

~~

In the month that had passed between Mother’s Day and the impending Father’s Day weekend, there were two panic attacks that ruffled the relative tranquility in the Halpert house: one mine, one hers.

Mine came shortly after Mother’s Day, when I started to check online for hotels in Buffalo for the Allentown weekend.  The first four I looked at were booked solid.  I didn’t want to stay all the way out by the airport or all the way out by the huge, new University of Buffalo campus (how times had changed since my father’s day), and I didn’t want to stay in any old fleabag, that’s for sure.  I couldn’t even remember where my college buddies and I had stayed…the Sunrise Motel, maybe?...but it didn’t matter, because I wasn’t taking her there, either.  I started to panic because I’d cancelled my reservations in Vermont and it wasn’t looking good for reservations in Buffalo.   What if I couldn’t find a hotel?  I didn’t even want to think about having to change plans – this was the perfect weekend for us - but my mind was already racing with alternatives.  New York City?  Too crazy.  Boston?  Five hours in the car instead of four plus three times as expensive and no Allentown.  I actually thought, ‘maybe I could take her to the White House’ then shook my head over how ridiculous that sounded.  I decided to call my parents because they knew the city so much better than I did. 

I took my cell with me to the backyard to try and avoid the pregnant woman with the bionic hearing I was living with.  Before I had a chance to enter the speed dial number, her voice came from the open kitchen window.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You look sneaky.  What are you up to?”

“God, Pam!  I was making a phone call!”

“To who?”

“That’s ‘whom’ and it’s none of your business!”

She thinks I’m the one who can’t stand to be left out of a secret?  She was on full alert and totally relentless.   She stepped out to the patio and I closed the phone, exasperated, and rolled my eyes at her.  She was looking at me like I was just going to give in and tell her.

“You’re going to ruin it.  I’m trying to do something nice here. Something fun.  For you.”

“Something fun, huh?  Are we going to Six Flags?”

“Yep!  We’re going to Six Flags!  You’re going to meet that little bald guy you like so much and I’m going to stuff you full of cotton candy and corn dogs and take you on the Catapult.  Doesn’t that sound fun for someone who’s almost seven months pregnant?”

She gave me a look of fake disappointment and muttered a “geeeez” under her breath, but she wasn’t done yet. 

“Hershey!  We’re going to the Hershey factory!”

“You’re right!  It’s the Hershey factory!  Chocolate’s fun, right?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I was calling my folks, but I think I’m just going to drive over there instead.”

“Can I come?”

“No!  Pam, come on!”

She laughed at how she was torturing me, then put her arms around my waist and squeezed.

“You’re so easy.  Say hi to them for me, okay?”

I got into the car and mentally added “Hershey factory” to the short and stupid list of alternatives. 

It was my dad who saved me from taking her to Altoona to see The Haunted Wedding Dress attraction.  He had a friend from grad school who had bought an old mansion close to Allentown, completely renovated it and turned it into a hotel.  It sounded pretty good and I said a silent prayer when he went to get his address book.  I poked my head into the family room to say hello to my mother and found her with a student, surrounded by sketches and brushes.

“Oh!  Hi, Jim!”

“Sorry, Mom, I…”

“No, it’s okay, we’re just finishing.  Jim, this is Jane.”

“Jane?  You’re the famous watercolorist Pam told me about, right?”

She blushed and bent her head down, pushing her glasses up on her nose at the same time.

“She told you about me?”

“Oh, definitely.  She said you were really talented.  Congratulations on the ribbon!”

My mother spoke up.  “Pam’s an artist, too, Jane.  She knows what she’s talking about.”

“She really loved your painting, Jane,” I told her and I got to see the smile that had made my wife so happy. 

My dad called for me from the living room and I excused myself, telling her it was nice meeting her.  He was still on the phone, but motioned for me to sit down.

“Uh huh.  Paul, that’s great, they’re going to love it.  Okay, hang on….”

He covered the mouthpiece and asked me what nights we were going to be in Buffalo and I told him Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, checking out Sunday.  He relayed the message.

“Paul, I can’t thank you enough… Okay… They’re really looking forward to it…I owe you one…Okay, I’ll tell him…say hello to Maggie for me, okay?...I’ll tell her you said that and maybe we’ll see you next year…okay…bye.”

“Well?”

“You’re all set.  You have a room at The Mansion on Delaware for three nights.”

“Oh, Dad, you saved my life!”

“I’ll remember that, but it was nothing.  He’s a good friend and he was happy to do it.  I guess they always hold one room out, just in case.  In case of what, I’m not sure, but it’s yours now.”

“Great!  What’s the place like?”

“Get online and see for yourself.  Paul said to tell you to check out their website.”

“Can I do it here?  Pam’s not letting me get away with anything.”

“That’s my girl!”

“Remember me, Dad?  Your son?”

“What can I say, Jim?”  He shrugged his shoulders.

“Wow.  I had my suspicions you liked her better, but…”

“Computer’s in your old bedroom.”

As soon as the webpage loaded, my excitement for the weekend went to overload.  The place was gorgeous, just a step from Allentown, and it was completely renovated with a mix of antiques and modern amenities, and I knew Pam was going to love it.  I could just imagine her face when she saw it. 

“Dad, the place is amazing.  Thank you.”

“Will Pam like it?”

“She’s going to love it.  Oh, and if it even matters, I'm sure I'm going to love it, too.”

He clapped me on the back, chuckling.  “You know, son, they say lightning never strikes twice, but I have a good feeling about this.”

“I do, too, Dad.”

~~

Pam’s panic attack came along with the mail one day when we were coming home from work.  I was carrying a couple bags of groceries and she grabbed the mail as we walked in the front door.  I went straight to the kitchen to set the bags down and put the ice cream in the freezer.  I heard her from the front hall.

“Oh my God!”

“What’s wrong?” I yelled.

She walked into the kitchen carrying her school’s summer-fall class schedule. 

“Pam, what’s the matter?”

“Looks like I’m taking two semesters off.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

“What?”

“Jim, when is the baby due?”

“August 7th.”

“And when do you think fall classes start?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.  They start August 14th."

She slumped down into the kitchen chair and put her head in her hands.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think about this when I took the spring off.”

“Are you saying you shouldn’t have?  Because…”

“No, no.  I couldn’t have done it.  I needed the break, but…fuck.”

I sat down at the kitchen table with her and took her hands away from her face and held them.

“Pam, it’s just one…”

“It’s a whole year.  One more whole year behind.  I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.  You’re not stupid and there’s nothing...”

“I know there’s nothing I can do about it!  But I wasn’t even thinking that far ahead.  I didn’t even realize it.”

“Maybe you can…”

But she didn’t even wait for me to finish.  She got up from the table and walked upstairs and in a few minutes, I heard the shower running.  I debated on staying put or going upstairs.  Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, but sometimes, I have a hard time letting things go.  In the past, normal disagreements, fights, had escalated a few times because she just didn’t want to hear anymore of my ideas or plans about how things should be or could be.  I pushed and she withdrew a little and I pushed a little harder and then she’d push back hard and that would put an end to it.  Then we’d both withdraw to lick our wounds and try to remember that we loved each other.  I couldn’t help it…it was hard for me to see her upset about anything and I always wanted to fix it, make it right.  She told me, ‘you don’t always have to ride in on your white horse and save me, you know.’  That kind of hurt, but what I guess she was saying was that if she was mad or upset, sometimes she just wanted to be that, at least for a while. 

I just wanted to check on her, make sure she was okay.  I walked upstairs and the bathroom door was open a little and I heard her crying in the shower.  It took everything I had to fight my first instinct, but I walked down the hall to the bedroom and started to get undressed.  I sat on the end of the bed in my boxers, trying to think about how the next few months were going to change everything between us.  I knew she was looking forward to the baby, looking forward to being a mom and to us raising this child together.  We’d talked about it so many times, laughing about silly stuff and talking through the serious stuff.

Work was…work.  She’d been able to tolerate it more easily because she’d had school and I’d been able to tolerate it because I had her, but neither of us, if we were being honest, was really happy there.  I felt like I was right on the edge of something…ready to open a door or turn a corner.  It felt like the electrified weight of the air before a storm.  The road was taking a sharp, blind curve and the time for silly impulses and not very well thought out decisions was over.  I wondered where we were headed, where this road was leading us.  And not just us…it wasn’t going to be just me and her anymore.  And in that moment, even though I was looking forward to August 7th more than anything, I felt like I was losing something.  The silly, stupid, crazy, funny, weird and wonderful bubble that existed around us was about to float away. 

I laid back on the bed and let the story of us run like a movie through my head.  Pam in that blue dress… her face when I came back from Stamford…my heart breaking, alone in a strange, new apartment…her hair brushing my hand at her back when we danced at our wedding…holding her up on her wobbly ankles while we skated…her face, her hair, her skin underneath me for the first time…lying in bed all day on a Sunday and laughing about nothing…her smile the first time she said she loved me…her voice telling me ‘keep still, Jim!’ while she sketched me, both of us naked and laughing…her eyes filled with tears when she saw the terrace off this bedroom…both of us crying when we said our vows…her skipping around the yard saying ‘this is all ours!’

That’s how she found me when she walked in, wrapped in a towel that barely covered her.  She laid down next to me and I pulled her close to my side.  She wrapped her arm around me and after a few minutes, she kissed my neck softly and moved to my ear and brushed my hair back and stroked my face with the tips of her fingers.  And she kissed my shoulder and my chest and her hand roamed everywhere, just touching me like she wanted to make sure I was there.  I felt that heaviness in the air again, but it was different, and she gathered it around us with her mouth at my hip, her damp hair trailing down my chest.  We made love in a sort of desperation, me being too careful, her being more urgent, but both of us locking up tight and drawing a veil between us and the world.

We stayed tangled up together for a long time, quiet, until she broke the silence, in a small but very sure voice.

“We’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah, we are.” 

~~  

I left work a couple hours ahead of her to come home and pack for both of us.  I folded up shorts and a few maternity tops, underwear, and a new sundress I’d bought her as a surprise.  A sweater, in case she got cold in the evening.  I packed her makeup bag and her hair stuff.  Her sneakers and a pair of sandals.  My bag took only a few minutes to pack and I grabbed our toothbrushes and a barrette, my razor and shaving cream.  I had it all ready to go when I heard the front door open as I was zipping the bags closed.

“Kellie made up a little basket of goodies for us for the trip!” she yelled up to me.

“Thank God!”  I yelled down.  “I’d hate for you to go a few hours without food!”

She was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, a huge smile on her face.

“Ready?” I asked her.

“Ready,” she said.