Before putting his key into the lock, Jim glanced back once again at her door. She was over at Roy’s again tonight, and it made his blood boil. It wasn’t just because right now they were probably tangled up in each other, being intimate and affectionate, but because he hated the silence the third floor had when she was gone. Usually he could hear her TV on or her talking with her mom on the phone, and it was a comfort to know she was there.
Now all he could hear was the echoes in the fluorescent corridor, and the jagged screeching of his key turning in the lock.
He sighed deeply and entered his apartment, pressing a button on the answering machine and getting himself a beer. He had already had several drinks starting early that evening, when the Sixers head coach explained that he wanted Jim to high-five the starting lineup before tip off. They were going to flash the lights and make a big production of it, and so Jim needed a little alcohol in him to help him feel less self-conscious.
They’d won, as it always was when he was in attendance, and so the coach told him he needed to start making the high-five thing a routine.
Cause that was what Jim needed. More publicity.
He took a long swig of his beer and listened to his dad cheering for him over the machine: “We saw you on TV! Keep it up and we’ll be going to the finals! Great job, buddy!” He smiled at his dad’s words, which if one didn’t know better, sounded as if Jim had been out there playing instead of just being the good luck charm. But his face fell at the next voice he heard over the machine:
“Hey, it’s me. I know there’s a game tonight or something and you probably wouldn’t be able to hear your cell phone, so I just thought I’d leave you a message here… Um, I wanted to let you know I’ll be in town this weekend for a convention. I was thinking we could maybe get together for dinner? If you’re not too busy, I’d love to hear from you. Here’s my new number…”
Jim listened to the message two more times before copying down Karen’s new cell phone number. He felt frustrated that he couldn’t gauge from her message whether she wanted to go out as friends or as something more. But after listening to it for two more times, he decided he didn’t care. He thought about Pam being out, and told himself he had just as much power as she did to make their hallway silent.
He sighed, picking up the phone and punching in the numbers with the New York area code. He sucked in another breath just in time for her to answer his call. “Hey, Karen?... I’m good, how about you?... Yeah I did. I’d love to go to dinner… Friday? Okay…”
… … …
Pam was ecstatic. These were the best invitations she had ever designed, and the finished product looked even better than it did on her computer screen. She was beaming as she fished the postcard for the Reverberations Preview Party out of her mailbox, overwhelmed with pride in her work. She couldn’t wait to show Jim.
After their prank on Tuesday, she hadn’t seen him much. He was out at games and she had spent a couple nights at Roy’s, but she knew he’d probably be around this weekend to hang out with. She admitted she was more excited than she should’ve been to see him, but she had had a rough week and needed something to be excited about.
Her time at Roy’s did not go well. The first night she was there he ended up working the late shift at the construction site, and so she had sat in his tiny studio apartment alone all evening waiting for him to come home.
Like a puppy waiting for their master, she thought to herself as she walked up the stairs. How demeaning.
The next night she had simply offered to treat him to dinner, but he was too self-righteous to let her, and so they ended up having a screaming match. The only reason they made up was because there was no other place for her to sleep besides his bed, and there was no way she was coming back to her own messy place that late at night.
In the morning he made her chocolate chip pancakes and said he was sorry, and she forgave him, like always.
She pondered her invitation to the party, and knew Roy wouldn’t be up for going to it. She could hear him now, saying how this party was just another confirmation of how Pam was “too good” for him now, and how he wouldn’t be able to appreciate the art anyway.
Roy was always making excuses for himself.
She let herself forget her troubles for the moment as she approached Jim’s door. She was excited to show him a piece of evidence of the work she did, and even considered taking him to the party. She knew she couldn’t show up without a date, and she certainly thought he would be a better choice than Roy, and so she resolved to ask him about it that weekend.
She was surprised, however, by an exotically beautiful woman answering the door.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asked in a soft and resonant tone.
Pam stammered, “Sorry. Is Jim around?”
“Uh, he’s in the bathroom…”
“Oh. That’s okay. I’m his neighbor. I just… I needed to talk to him about something. But it’s no big deal. I’ll catch him later.”
“Okay,” the woman gave a soft smile and started to close the door before adding, “It was nice meeting you.”
She watched the door shut on her and said softly and hesitantly, “Yeah… you too.”
… … …
“Who was that?” Jim asked as he came out of his bedroom, fiddling with his tie.
“Oh, just your neighbor. She said she needed to talk to you about something, but it didn’t seem important…” Karen smiled, walking over to him and helping him with his collar, “See? You look much better.”
“Much more appropriate for Le Bec-Fin.”
She grinned at him, “Well, not that Monk’s isn’t good, but I’m really in the mood for something a little nicer. Plus, I’m only in Philly for the weekend; who knows when I’ll be able to have grilled hamachi again?”
“I thought New York had everything,” Jim quipped back.
Her smile grew larger, signaling to him that she didn’t catch the bitterness in his voice, “Not the way Chef George makes it. Come on.”
… … …
Jim hadn’t been to Le Bec-Fin since he and Karen celebrated their one-year anniversary. He thought he had been so debonair in taking her to one of the most extravagant restaurants in town, and did admit that it was probably the best meal he ever ate in his life. But something about that night made him realize that the man he was trying to be for her wasn’t who he actually was. Looking back on their relationship, he pegged that event as the turning point.
After that, he began to notice whenever she made fun of his floppy, “homeless hair”, or how she’d complain if he wanted to stay in and watch TV instead of take her to a movie. It wasn’t that he didn’t like doing what she wanted to do; she just expected these grand gestures of love all the time, and he simply didn’t have the energy for that.
When she told him she had gotten a promotion in her company and would be moving to New York, Jim was actually relieved. She asked him if he would move with her, but he said no and made up some excuse about how he couldn’t start writing about other sports teams. But in reality, he knew the relationship had just run its course and that they wanted different things.
Now, sitting across from her under the same chandeliered lighting as they had sat when they were happy and together, he realized that the thing he had broken up with Karen for was finally real and identifiable.
Pam.
“So, I saw you on ESPN randomly,” Karen jerked him away from his thoughts and he looked up from his menu at her.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I was flipping around the channels and I saw some guys debating over if you were really good luck or not.”
“Oh, that was probably Pardon The Interruption. I heard I was mentioned there once.”
She smiled softly at him, “It must be great being so famous.” Jim shrugged at her comment, and so she continued on, “I mean, this afternoon at the convention, some guy randomly called out my name from one of the booths… It made me feel so cool and important.”
“Well, you basically turned that company around, didn’t you?” Jim inquired.
“I guess you could say that,” she said casually, but with a hint of pride. “I mean, we were technically a failing paper company until I came along and came up with the brilliant idea of custom letter stock, made directly at the paper mills and shipped to the clients from…” she stopped herself when Jim began fake-yawning. “Alright. Hardy har har, paper is boring. I get it.”
“Paper? I thought you sold mufflers.”
“Jim—”
“Or muffins?”
“Jim.”
“Or is it mittens?”
Karen folded her arms, “Go ahead, make fun, but in a few years Dunder Mifflin will be able to compete with the nationwide chains. All thanks to me.” They exchanged a small grin, knowing they were just joking with each other, and continued to make polite conversation.
… … …
“Thank you so much for taking me to dinner,” Karen smiled at him as he pulled into the paring lot of the rowhouse. He could see Pam sitting out on the terrace with a mug in her hand, but tried to ignore her.
He grinned back at Karen, “Of course, it was my pleasure. Especially when we split the bill.”
“It was really, so great to see you…” she trailed off as she stroked his arm gently with the tips of her fingers. She flashed him a suggestive smile, which made his eyes widen in bewilderment.
He wondered how she could’ve possibly misconstrued their dinner as a way to reignite their flame, and felt so awkward in his own body that he could suddenly feel every constraint. His tie seemed to be choking him, straining his breath, and his shoes felt about three sizes too small. He then remembered that it was her who had insisted on dressing up and going somewhere much too stuffy for his tastes, and he realized then that she was still trying to make him into someone he wasn’t.
She kept her eyes fixated on him, trying to read his expression, and suggested, “Do you wanna… invite me up for coffee? Or…”
“Karen—”
“It’s not like my convention is summer camp or anything. There’s no roll call. No one would care if I didn’t show up for the continental breakfast tomorrow morning—”
“Karen. No. I’m sorry.”
Her face shifted quickly from playful to annoyed. “Oh, you’re sorry?” she said in that same sarcastic tone she would use to joke with him. It made him nervous that her inflections were the same whether she was humorous or livid. “What the hell were you thinking then? Accepting my invitation to dinner and then just—Do you even think this stuff through?” He could only shrug in response, which seemed to make her angrier. “I should’ve known something like this would happen. You seriously need to learn some responsibility for your actions, and fast.”
She quickly made her way out of his car, slamming the door behind her, and toward her own, and it took him a moment to realize he should be making some attempt to follow her. After all, now they were exposed to Pam and the rest of the world; he had to come off looking like a good guy.
He caught up to her at her car, and she was so enraged that she fumbled with her keys, which he was thankful for. He put a hand on her shoulder and said in a comforting tone, “Karen, please—”
“Get your hands off me,” was her reply, much more composed than he had expected her to be. He obeyed her command, withdrawing his hand slowly, and finally she turned around to face him. Her expression was stern, but her eyes were full of sadness, “I really thought we were somethin’, ya know that? You always tried so hard, but I guess… at some point, trying just doesn’t cut it.” She blinked away the melancholy from her eyes and told him firmly, “I hope you find someone who doesn’t expect the most of you, like I did.”
Her backhanded compliment stung him, once again digging at his laziness, childishness, or whatever else she could think of to criticize him with. But he didn’t feel like fighting that war again, and so he accepted it and nodded his head. She sighed at him and got in her car, and as soon as she was out of the parking lot, his head involuntarily turned to the terrace. Pam was still there, and he could see she was willing herself not to watch him.
The sight of her made his heart full; he knew her expectations of him suited him just fine.
… … …
“Hey,” he said, peering out onto the terrace from the doorway.
“Oh, hi,” Pam responded, sitting up straight in her chair and rubbing her arms like she was cold.
He stepped out onto the terrace and asked, “Mind if I join you?” She shook her head and so he seated himself in the chair next to her and let out a deep sigh. The tension in the air was palpable, and so he decided to break it, “That—was my ex. The one who moved to New York—”
“Oh, is she here visiting?”
“Yeah, for a convention.”
“That’s nice that you got to see her,” she said mechanically, still keeping her eyes fixated on the cars whizzing by. “She’s very beautiful. Looks very professional too.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, she’s always had that corporate look. Her promotion was just the missing piece of the puzzle.” They settled into an awkward silence, both wondering if they should bring up the inevitable topic of the scene that played out in the parking lot not five minutes earlier. Jim resolved again to be the one to do it, “But uh, if you’re wondering why she seemed kind of mad—”
“Oh no, you don’t need to—”
“No, it’s okay, um… She just, apparently thought that there was still something between us, and it was a little awkward when I told her there wasn’t.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, that’s just so you know,” he smiled reassuringly at her, and then caught himself, “You know, not that… my current romantic life is any business of yours—”
“Actually,” Pam said, springing up from her chair and heading toward the door, “It kind of is.” He gave her a puzzled look, trying to contain his curiosity of what she meant, as she smiled and signaled to him to wait while she went inside. She reappeared a few minutes later with the postcard she had designed and handed it to him, “A sample of my work.”
“You designed this?” Pam nodded her head, and Jim looked back down at the postcard in his hands, “Wow, this is really great. I love the colors.”
She sat back down and beamed at him, “They’re inspired by the exhibit, the one the Preview Party is for…”
“Oh yeah,” he realized, looking closer at the invitation, “’Reverberations’… sounds cool.”
“Yeah…” she trailed off, looking out into the night sky and then back at her neighbor, who was studying the card intently. She took in a deep breath, as if she was inhaling courage, and asked, “You wouldn’t want to go with me, would you?”
“To the party?” Jim fixated his gaze on her and tried to keep his smile as indifferent as possible.
“Yeah. I mean, I’d ask Roy, but he hates them. He’s been to a few and always just sulks in the corner or asks me if we can leave early. He doesn’t even make an attempt to look at the art…”
Jim knitted his brows together in skepticism, “Which, correct me if I’m wrong, is the whole point of an art exhibit, right?”
“Right,” she laughed at his contemplative expression. “So… would you be my date?”
He practically had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too wildly. The word ‘date’ had nearly knocked him off his feet, and he knew if that was what she’d be calling it, he would have to milk it for all it was worth.
“Absolutely,” he replied, without a trace of hesitation.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's another chapter, folks! It's a little more angsty than normal I guess, but just hold on till the end and I promise you will be rewarded. This is also a lot more of Jim's POV, which should be refreshing. Hope I did an okay job with it.
Thanks so much to my ladies in Philly, NanReg and iwantphillyjim, and and extra special thanks to guest beta, WildBerryJam.
Thanks so much to my ladies in Philly, NanReg and iwantphillyjim, and and extra special thanks to guest beta, WildBerryJam.
