"Pammy, why on earth would you trade the iPod for a stupid teapot?  Are you crazy?"

"Roy..."  Pam started to explain, but she stopped short, realizing that she couldn't really explain it.  It didn't entirely make sense to her, but she knew in her heart that the answer was not something that Roy was ready to hear.  She wasn't even sure if she was ready to say it herself.  She twisted her paper towel napkin in her hand and looked away from him, surveying the small tree they had decorated the night before.  

Roy angrily pushed his dinner around the plate with his fork.  Pam could hear the harsh scrape of metal on the plate and it brought her back into focus, back to the table, scaring the confused emotions back to a hidden corner of her mind. 

They sat in silence as Pam tried to un-jumble her thoughts.  She was tired of this game they'd been playing, living together, never setting a date, never really talking about anything, not really even knowing each other any more.  She didn't even consciously realize it until today; but now that she knew it, her heart seemed to hurt more with each beat.  "Um, I'm going to my mom's tonight, we're shopping tomorrow in Wilkes-Barre." 

This was the way their relationship worked.  Whenever it got too close to the place where words would be said that could change everything, Pam would change the subject.  It wasn't that she hadn't considered the alternative, but her life had no frame of reference without Roy.  She couldn't bear to cross that unseen line without knowing what it would be like on the other side, what she would be like without him.

"Fine."  Roy pushed back from the table and skulked into the kitchen; Pam wondered if it was all started to weigh on him too.  He seemed less and less interested in her.  He was spending most nights out.  She listened to Roy throw the dishes in the sink, but the sound seemed so far away from her, like she was drifting farther and farther away from him.  He walked out of the kitchen and, grabbing his coat, he walked over to kiss her cheek.  "I'm going out with the guys for a little while.  Be back later." 

"You could buy me that pastel set I've been talking about..."  Pam said to his back as he put on his coat.  She wasn't even sure why she said it at first.

"Pastel set?"  Roy repeated the words as if they were in another language, his face betraying that he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Or art lessons, I've asked for that for years ..." The words were wistful; they just came out, like the filter she constantly kept up was suddenly gone and words were just spilling forth like air from a deflating balloon.  "I mean, instead of a sweater, you could buy me something I wanted instead." 

Running his fingers through his hair, Roy let out a breath that seemed to go on forever, "I just wanted to buy you something useful."

Despite the fact that she knew he didn't mean his words to hurt her, Pam felt the sentiment behind his words just the same as if he'd hit her. 

"Oh."

Pam wondered how much emotional turmoil one soul could endure in one day.  First the roller coaster of emotion with Jim, now the sad truth about Roy staring her so blankly in the face; how could she deny it all and face herself in the mirror every morning?  She stopped looking at him as she numbly pushed her food with her fork, even though she had no appetite at all. 

"Babe..."  Roy started toward her but stopped abruptly, appearing to will himself slowly closer to the door, "Look, I'm late.  We'll talk about this later, okay?

"Okay."  She looked up at him and tried to muster up a watery smile.  "Later."

Backing away from her as if he were afraid she would strike like a wild animal, he grabbed his keys, "Have fun with your mom."

Pam waited for the click of the door before she pushed the food away and buried her head in her hands.  She felt like her head and her heart were telling her to run, but her feet just wouldn't move, like they had forgotten how. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to hold back the tears. Her fingers frantically picked up the dishes, eager to find a normal distraction.  She started rinsing dishes and planning what she would take to her mom's for the weekend, thinking about how nice it would be to hide out with her parents; maybe just crawl in her old bed and pull the covers over her head. 

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she was actually starting to consider a very big change in her life when she didn't even get to see what was on the inside of that card.  It could have said, "Merry Christmas Pam; hope you and Roy have a good one"; or "Katy and I are back together and I just thought you should know that"; or "Hey, just a friendly gift from your friend Jim."  Pam shook her head knowing that deep down it didn't matter what the card said; she couldn't marry Roy if she didn't love him anymore.  

***ho*ho*ho***

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."  Pam had to fight back the urge to yawn so the greeting came out much breathier than usual.  She was exhausted from the weekend, which had started out with the little fight with Roy over the iPod and ended with a huge fight that left Roy on the couch and her packing more than just an overnight bag for Christmas. 

As it turned out Pam and her mom didn't feel much like shopping on Saturday.  Instead, they spent the day talking about Roy and Jim as they huddled over old photos in Pam's childhood room.    Pam's mom was an amiable woman with a talent for asking all the right questions.  Questions like, "What do you want the card to say?"; "Are you happy with Roy?";  "Can you see yourself spending your whole life with Roy in Scranton as a receptionist?"; "What do you want Pam?"   They were simple and to the point and just the nudge that Pam needed to really think about her life and where she wanted to be in the years to come.   On Sunday, she reluctantly left the safe confines of her home and headed back to Scranton, bracing herself for a really long talk with Roy.

It was the talk she had been dreading forever.  They had such a talent for ignoring the problems, truthfully for ignoring each other, but not this time.  She tried to explain to him what she wanted; she wanted for him to take an interest in her, support her dreams, let her grow.  As usual, Roy assumed this was all a silly reaction to something trivial, like the fact that he stayed out late with the boys again, or because Pam wanted a more romantic gift for Christmas.  She couldn't make him understand no matter how hard she tried.  They were stuck going in endless circles. 

It was Pam who finally said the words, "I think this isn't what I want anymore."

She couldn't believe she had actually said it, and even though she thought she would be sick from the anxiety and guilt over finally admitting it, she found that each subsequent breath got a little easier.  It took every ounce of strength she had to stand her ground in the face of Roy's anger and desperation, but she refused to back down, clinging to the hope that she could exist without him. She emerged on Monday morning exhausted and single. 

She yawned again, propping her head on her arm and opening a new game on her computer.  Jim watched her from his desk, more than a little concerned at her demeanor today.  She had greeted him this morning as usual, but she seemed tired and distant.  She didn't even crack a smile when Michael tried to moonwalk in the office but instead fell over Jim's desk chair. 

He'd spent most of the morning watching her out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out what was wrong by looking for little clues.  She sipped from a coffee cup filled with tea, the little green teapot sitting by her side.  He smiled feeling happy that even if she wasn't telling him what was wrong he was comforting her in a way; as long as the teapot was by her side on some level so was he.

He had hoped that she would eventually call him over, or look up and smile, but she seemed engrossed in her Sudoku puzzle.  After debating possible ways to get her to notice him, like throwing something at Dwight or impersonating Kelly on his next sales call, he decided to get up and check on her. 

He forced a genial, unconcerned look on his face and approached the reception desk just as she let out a yawn that seemed too big for such a little woman.  Jim couldn't help but laugh, "Geez Beesly, wake up already, it's work time.  Didn't Dwight already tell you?"  She looked up and felt part of herself relax at the sound of his voice.  Despite herself, she felt a smile pulling at her lips.

"You've been busy this morning."  Her voice came out a little scratchy. 

"Well, someone wasn't exactly doing her job distracting me from this place."  His stomach twisted with his obvious lie, Pam was always a constant distraction.  He ducked his head enjoying just sharing her space for a moment. 

There were too many things in Pam's head this morning, too many feelings way too close to the surface.  She felt so different; she wondered if she looked different, if Jim could just tell by looking at her that everything had changed.  She clutched her sweater tightly around herself, feeling suddenly exposed.  She bounced her right knee under the desk trying to find an outlet for the nervous energy that was consuming her.  "Sorry about that...did you have a good weekend?  Put your lucky keychain to good use?"

"Absolutely, I threw the keychain at Mark when he attempted to change the channel during the Daily Show.  Worked like a charm.  How bout you?"

"Um, I had an... okay weekend."  Pam paused unable to play this one off.

"That doesn't sound convincing," his voice was still playful but as the silence filled the space between them he started again, more seriously, "Are you okay?"

"Well,...yeah..."  Pam ducked her head, trying to will herself from crying, wishing she could run away from her desk, leave early and start the drive back to her mother's to spend her first Christmas in years without Roy.  She didn't even know where to start to explain things to Jim, but for certain she wasn't having this conversation at the reception desk.

 "Pam?" 

"Yeah, I just...well...it's ..."  She looked up to meet his eyes, her gaze very honest and open, so much so that he forgot to breathe.  He could tell from his desk that something was wrong, but up close, he knew that not only was something very wrong, somehow it did have to do with him. 

Pam felt frozen as he searched her expression, feeling like he was almost touching her as his eyes moved over her face and finally held her gaze for an excruciating moment.  She looked back down afraid she had already told him everything; she felt so raw that she knew she couldn't hide anything anymore. 

"Um..."  Her voice was small, she didn't want to tell him now, not here, not when her head was all over the place.  "This is not a reception desk conversation."

Jim was breathless, confused by her tone and more than a little afraid of a conversation she couldn't have with him in public.  His mind rolled over a long list of possibilities: She and Roy set a date?  She's pregnant?  She has somehow figured out how he feels about her and she doesn't feel the same?  He softly beat his fist on the counter feeling certain that she and Roy had another fight and that she would want him to pick up the pieces again. 

He stood to his full height and surveyed the office; all his coworkers seemed disinterested and oblivious.    He nodded slightly toward the break room and she shook her head yes; without another word she set the phones to go to voicemail and they walked to the break room.  Jim shut the door behind them.

"Is it Roy again?" 

Pam wasn't even sure how to answer.  She opened her mouth, wanting to scream out of pure frustration, ‘It's Roy, it's you, it's me,' but nothing would come out.  Finally the words came, tight and strangled by tears she refused to shed. "We broke up last night."

Jim grabbed the counter for support; he did not expect that answer at all. 

"Wow."  Jim slid into the chair next to her out of necessity since his head seemed to be spinning out of control, "Are you okay?"

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes again, "Yeah, I think am, oddly enough." 

Jim had a million questions but couldn't think of one to ask.  "Um, I don't ...know what to say."  He tried to push down all the conflicting emotions so she wouldn't see them on his face; he hurt for Pam, but he was also excited and almost happy; and he was guilty for feeling happy.  He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Pam nearly trembling beside him and the image brought him out of his head and back to the table.  Reaching for her he said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't want to talk about it, didn't really want to hear about Roy anymore, but he couldn't deny her if she was hurting.  He knew he wouldn't be able to counsel her about how to get back together with Roy, but he could listen.  Pam sat very still, so still that Jim was afraid she may shatter before him, but finally she started to talk.

"Well...um... I don't know."  She paused to take a deep breath, "I just couldn't do it anymore.  It just got so hard."

"You broke up with him."  She simply nodded and Jim couldn't hide his astonishment; he had expected some story about how Roy was mad, probably about something stupid like the iPod, and had broken up with her, which Jim knew would end with Roy coming back and Pam forgiving him.  But he didn't expect that Pam would end it.  He wondered if their little moment on Friday had meant as much to her as it did to him.  Had that caused this seismic shift?  "Wow..."

"You know, it was awful, is awful."  She trailed off, her gaze bouncing from the salt and pepper shaker to the door to the window, anywhere but to Jim's face, so full of questions and emotions.  Finally she dared to look at him as she spoke, so quietly Jim had to strain to hear, "But...its better than marrying someone you don't love anymore." 

Jim felt certain that his tie was going to strangle him it was so tight around his neck and he was sure that he had broken out in some kind of sweat.  "Oh, well yeah..." Jim cleared his throat and looked up at her with watery eyes, "you deserve much more than that."

"And so does Roy."  She said nervously, picking at her cuticles out of habit.  "I just realized we didn't really know each other very well anymore, and..."  she drifted off again lost in thought, taking a moment before pulling herself together, "it's wrong to stay with someone just because you're scared to leave."

Jim picked up a stray plastic fork left on the table and was focusing his attention on the small bent out of shape tines, "You're right." He took a deep breath and pitched the fork in the trash, "Pam...I..."  

She looked up at him wanting to tell him that even though she broke up with Roy because their relationship was broken, he had helped her realize that she deserved more, that she needed more. She wanted him to finish his statement by saying that even though he knows that she'll need time, he wants her to know how much he loves her.  She knew it was too soon for such declarations, so instead she fought to exhale a throaty, "Yeah..." 

She reached slowly for his hand, "It means a lot to me that you care enough to sit and just listen to me." 

He nodded slowly, completely lost as to whether there was a double meaning to her statement or was it just a friendly complement.  His brain felt like it was on overload with too many emotions and new information.

They both jumped and moved farther apart as the door swung dramatically open revealing a very angry Dwight. "Jim your phone is ringing.  It is part of your job to answer that phone.  You know, phone, sales, paper, ring a bell?  Cavorting with the receptionist is not part of your job."

Jim shot a knowing glance at Pam and slowly pushed back from the table.  "Not really your job to monitor my phone or my cavorting, Dwight."

"When your phone keeps me from making important sales, it is my job to eliminate the distraction.  When your cavorting keeps you from your desk, it is my job to monitor said cavorting." 

"Maybe it's not the phone, maybe your sales technique is slipping."

Jim slipped by him to go to his desk, turning back to Pam and mouthing the word "Later."

Dwight turned to speak sternly to Jim's back, "Impossible.  The Schrutes have been in the sales business since my Great-Uncle Gustav patented a beet elixir in the 1800s.  My salesmanship is my destiny."

Pam smiled and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea; Dwight turned to eye her suspiciously.  "Need something Dwight?"

He looked behind him and waited for Jim to get out of earshot before he spoke.  "No, I just wanted to, ahem, thank you."  The words seemed to pain him physically.  "My girlfriend and I loaded music into the iPod this weekend, and it is a very satisfactory gift."    

"You're welcome."  Pam smirked and she found she couldn't help but ask, "What kinds of music did you download?"

"The usual: classic heavy metal, a few arrangements of Beethoven and Led Zeppelin for the recorder, and a few Christian hymns.  I use this Russian website where you can download music for two cents a song. It's perfectly legal of course."

Pam's mind was stuck on something that didn't quite make sense or maybe it made too much sense.  "Did you say hymns?"

Dwight bristled, "My girlfriend likes hymns."

Pam stopped speaking and tried to act natural, but she wanted to jump out of her skin; she was right about Dwight and Angela.  Course as it turned out, Phyllis may have been right about her and Jim as well.  She pushed that to the back of her mind.

She got up to fill her cup with warm water and grab a new tea bag, trying to decide if she would dare ask Dwight the question she'd had her mind on and off all morning.  She felt guilty for even wondering about the card, but she figured it was okay to look for it now.  She cleared her throat trying to sound as casual as possible, "Hey Dwight?  Do you remember if there was a card in the box with the teapot."

Dwight tilted his head toward her with a look of distaste.  "Do I remember?  Pam I have exceptional powers of observation and an above average memory.   Of course I remember... there was a card in the side of the box." 

Pam smiled, happy that she wasn't losing her mind.  She sat back down and peered at Dwight innocently over the rim of her mug.

"Did you happen to see that card later Dwight?  I mean...I think I dropped it."

"Hmmmm."  Dwight seemed to be debating telling Pam what he knew, although Pam doubted he knew very much.  Peering over his shoulder to be sure they were alone, he walked closer, "I'd try the top drawer of his desk.  He keeps a great many sentimental things in there."

Pam feigned an astonished look, "Dwight!  Isn't it against company policy to look through other people's desks?"

He crossed his arms in front of him, "Not when you are searching for contraband.  Or when trying to shove a phone that will not stop ringing in a drawer."

"You were shoving his phone in a drawer?"

She arched an eyebrow at him trying to fight back her laughter; she watched him stiffen defensively and he became more his usual self.

"Pam, do not judge me.  Fact.  If you were doing your job and answering the phone I would not have had to take such drastic measures.  Fact.  You must be lying.  If you dropped the card it would not be in his desk, so presumably he took it back for some reason."

The two eyed each other suspiciously, before Pam realized she'd lost this round and looked away.  "Well, whatever.   I hope you and your girlfriend enjoy the iPod."

"Oh we will."  His mouth turned in a menacing grin as he turned to leave, "Pam, in case you didn't know, this break table is not your desk; your desk is that one out front that says re-cep-tion.  I'm sure you've had more than the state mandated 15 minute break.  By my watch you've been in here 16 minutes and 43 seconds to be exact."  He turned and walked back out the door. 

She giggled as she continued to study her fingers, letting her mind process this information.  The card, her card, was in Jim's desk drawer right now.  She wondered if she could get to it without him knowing about it.  But then what?  If it said what she hoped it said, could she really run up to him and say ‘I'm sorry that I rifled through your desk, but Jim, me too!' 

She collected her cup and headed back out to her desk, taking more time than usual to survey Jim's desk and see if his drawer was open even the slightest.  She sighed and smiled casually at Jim, trying to hide her disappointment; it was shut tight.  This would take a plan.