Author's Chapter Notes:
I’m pretty new to fic and I’m guessing this story may have been done before, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out there… Remember, the premise is Casino Night happened with the flirting and smile-fest at the poker table, but there was no Jim confession and no kiss.
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.
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.
She had already thrown up once that morning and she swore she would not to do it again. She felt the bile and the tiny bit of breakfast she had managed to force down sneaking back up her esophagus, like when a toilet is clogged and the water keeps rising and rising and you’re panicked because, Oh, God, there’s nothing worse than cleaning up toilet water. Except for perhaps cleaning up puke. But this, unlike an overflowing toilet, was something Pam felt like she could control. Mind over matter. She just needed to get a grip.
She pressed her hands against her stomach and forced a deep breath. There. That was better. She took a tiny sip of ginger ale. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost spilled it on her dress.
“Honey?” Her mom knocked on the door of the bridal room. “Can I come in?”
“Yes. Come in.” Even her voice sounded shaky and high pitched and too formal.
Her mom peeked in and shook her head, smiling. “Oh, Pam. I know I told you before, but you look so beautiful.”
Pam forced a small smile. The inside of her cheek was raw from chewing on it, trying to keep her teeth from chattering nervously.
Her mom’s face changed immediately – her eyebrows drew together and small frown lines appeared by her mouth. “Are you okay?” Leave it to moms to have that trauma ESP, that ability to sense fear, terror, guilt in just one glance.
Pam inhaled deeply. A part of her wanted to sob against her mom’s shantung jacket, not caring if her mascara ran and her hair got messed up. She wanted her mom to hold her and convince her that she was doing the right thing, that she’d be happy, that she wouldn’t someday look at Roy like he was rash or an itchy tag or something to be merely tolerated. She needed her mom to tell her that romance always fades eventually, that no one stays deeply in love forever, that comfort was more important than passion. She needed to believe that she wasn’t settling, that what she felt for Roy would be enough. She wanted to cry like when she was a kid – freely, openly, loudly, not caring who heard or who saw or what they thought about it.
But it was too late for that. She was wearing her wedding dress, her hair painstakingly styled, make-up carefully applied. Almost 150 guests who had waited nearly a decade for this day continued to wait patiently out in the church while the string quartet she had fought Roy for played Pachabel’s Canon in D. This was no time for cold feet. So the other part of her, the part that hid her feelings, that denied the truth, that laughed when she wanted to cry, forced another smile.
“I’m okay. Just nervous.”
“Of course you are! It’s a big day.”
Her mom came up behind her and placed her hands on Pam’s shoulders. Again, she gave her that look.
“Honey. You’re shaking.”
Pam was shivering like she was cold, but she wasn’t cold. In fact, her hands were sweaty. Her face felt hot.
Her mom sat down next to her and held her hand.
“Pam. Are you sure you’re okay? You look . . .” her voice trailed off and Pam felt the tears forming behind her eyes, felt her throat tightening. Now was her chance. She could tell her mom everything. It would all come out like a faucet on full blast if she let it. Like a soda bottle that had been shaken up and then opened, it would shoot out and surprise even herself. She could feel it building inside of her, aching for release. And it wasn’t too late. She hadn’t said “I Do”, she hadn’t signed the marriage certificate. Her mom would understand.
“Mom?” her voice cracked as she looked into her mom’s eyes. “I just—“
There was a brief knock at the door and then the pastor peeked his head in. “It’s showtime, ladies! We’re all set for you.”
Pam’s mom looked at the pastor and back at Pam … waiting. “Pam?”
Pam swiped the threatening tears from her eyes and forced a smile. No. It was too late. She’d had ten years to think about today, ten years to break up with Roy if that’s what she really wanted. And she hadn’t. What made her think she had the guts to call off her wedding now? What made her think she had that right after telling everyone, especially Roy, that this was exactly what she wanted?
“I’m ready.”
The pastor beamed at her. “You look lovely, Pam. Roy’s a lucky man.”
Pam forced another smile. She was getting good at it.
Her mom gave her one more concerned look before getting up to leave. “Okay…. I’ll see you out there sweetie.”
Pam nodded and stood up, pressing her hands to her stomach again. Maybe she could just carry her bouquet down low and she’d be able to keep the butterflies (and the vomit) in check.
Her dad was waiting outside the room for her and he smiled as she came out. “Game on, Pam. You ready?”
Pam nodded. She no longer trusted herself to speak. She’d just wait until the pastor asked her if she did, and she would, and that would be it. She could follow directions. She’d always been good at that – following what she was supposed to do.
She watched her matron of honor – Kenny’s wife – get ready to walk down the aisle. It suddenly struck her as sad that she didn’t have any friends of her own standing up in her wedding. Somehow she’d lost touch with all her friends over the past half dozen years and now everyone standing up for her was related to Roy: Roy’s cousin, Roy’s sister, Kenny’s wife. What had happened to all her friends? It was ridiculous, really. She almost wished she’d let Kelly be a bridesmaid. At least then it would look like she had something of her own left.
Then she and her dad stepped up to the aisle and she felt her stomach lurch. She pressed her bouquet tightly against her belly and took a deep breath. She could see Roy at the end, leaning over and whispering something to Kenny. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t even looked at her yet. Is that how it would always be? Would she always be sort of invisible to him, an afterthought, second place behind sharing a joke with his brother?
“Okay, Pam. This is it. Let’s mosey.” Her dad patted her right hand, which was tucked into the crook of his arm and took a step. Pam didn’t.
“Pam?”
She looked at him. It was like he was speaking a foreign language. Oh, that’s right. She was supposed to walk with him. She stepped forward awkwardly, stiffly. Her feet felt numb.
She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Step. Step. Step. She finally glanced up and realized how many people were watching her, smiling, encouraging. She forced another stiff smile. Step. Step. Step.
She kind of got into a rhythm. Step. Step. Step. Smile. Step. Step. Step. Smile. She started to feel like she’d be able to do this without shaking, without vomiting, without bursting into tears in front of the entire church.
And then she saw Jim.
She gasped so loudly that her dad looked over at her, concerned.
Oh my God, she thought. Jim is here. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he in Australia? He was supposed to be in Australia!
Her feet continued to step, step, step, but her heart was racing. She stopped smiling at anyone else and just stared at Jim. He looked back at her, not quite smiling. Not smiling at all, actually. In fact, it looked like he might . . . No. It must be the light, she thought. Sure enough, as she got closer he gave her a small smile. She wasn’t sure if she smiled back.
He looked so good. How could she notice how good he looked when she was walking up the aisle to marry someone else? But she DID notice. He had on a new suit, she thought. At least one he’d never worn to work before. It was dark, cut really well. And he’d maybe gotten his hair trimmed, just a little. She swore she could smell him as she passed – the clean, spiciness that reminded her of him resting his forearms on the counter of her desk, popping jelly beans into his mouth. It reminded her of long, boring Michael meetings, with Jim next to her, leaning close to share a private joke. It reminded her of a night on the roof, watching fireworks, eating grilled cheese sandwiches. It reminded her of a teapot and paper doves and palm reading and sharing a Coke and oh, God, what the hell was she doing?
They were at the front of the church now. Roy was looking at her. She had no idea how long he had been because this was the first time she had looked at him. She’d been too busy thinking about Jim.
She forced her hundredth fake smile of the day at Roy, her 101st at the pastor and he started talking.
We have gathered in the presence of God to give thanks for the gift of marriage, to witness the joining together of Pamela and Roy, to surround them with our prayers, and to ask God's blessing upon them, so that they may be strengthened for their life together and nurtured in their love for God.
Pam’s mind was racing. She hadn’t allowed herself to consciously think of Jim since he left work on Wednesday afternoon. He was leaving the next day for Australia and he had come around her desk to wish her luck. Actually, he had said, “Next time I see you you won’t be Beesly anymore.” And she had frowned and he had asked, “Can I still call you Beesly?” and she had only nodded because it felt like she was going to cry if she tried to answer out loud. He had opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but then he closed it and smiled at her – that same, sad smile he had given her a few minutes ago – and gave her a quick hug. And then he had left.
But now he wasn’t in Australia after all. He was back there, behind her, watching her do this. Watching her marry Roy in front of their friends, family, the entire office of Dunder Mifflin-Scranton and God. The pastor continued on:
In marriage, husband and wife are called to a new way of life, created, ordered, and blessed by God. This way of life must not be entered into carelessly, or from selfish motives, but responsibly, and prayerfully.
She didn’t feel like she was entering a new way of life. She felt like she was continuing with her old way. The way she’d been living for the past 10 years. The scared, dishonest, rational way. It certainly wasn’t new to her, and it certainly didn’t feel like it was created, ordered and blessed by God.
We rejoice that marriage is given by God, blessed by our Lord Jesus Christ, and sustained by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, let marriage be held in honor among all.
The pastor continued on and on about love and loyalty and faithfulness and Pam felt dizzy. What the hell was she doing here? This was not what she wanted. Not any more. Not with Roy.
She glanced over at Roy, who was staring straight ahead. He looked a little panicked himself and she wondered why they both felt the need to do this just because this is what everyone expected them to do. She wondered at what point she had stopped thinking for herself. She wondered if she had EVER thought for herself.
I ask you now in the presence of God and these people, to declare your intention to enter into union with one another through the grace of Jesus Christ, who calls you into union with himself.
The pastor took a deep breath, ready to make them declare their intentions and Pam felt something rising in her chest. Like the overflowing toilet, she wasn’t sure she could stop it.
Just before he started speaking again, Pam opened her mouth and instead of vomit, out came a quiet “Um.”
At the exact same moment, someone in the congregation cleared his throat. Or coughed. Or made some kind of noise that coincided with her “um” so that everyone immediately stopped any incidental fidgeting they were doing. She turned to look back at the congregation and saw it split evenly between people staring at her and people craning their necks to look at Jim, who had obviously been the other person who couldn't just keep quiet.
Chapter End Notes:
My kids are on Spring Break this week so I probably won’t have my normally quick updates. Of course, this won’t be a long story, either. So, we’ll see…
OH, and don't forget -- reviews make my hands type even faster. I swear, it's true!
OH, and don't forget -- reviews make my hands type even faster. I swear, it's true!
