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The last weekend before I went to New York, we spent Friday night and all day Saturday shuffling carloads of clothes and plants and lamps and other small portable things from my apartment over to Jim’s place. Our place, now. My lease was up at the end of June and his place was bigger, newer, had a landlord who’d never met Michael; the choice was obvious.
Sunday, however, we spent in the bedroom, playing our favorite game. Well, that, of course. But after that, there was the other game, the one where we admitted all our secrets, laid ourselves bare and open. Things like “when did you first…?” and “do you remember…?” and “would you still love me if…?” Teasing confessions that mostly took place in bed, when all defenses were down and any and all subjects open to exploration.
I turned my face into his neck and kissed the warm smooth skin below his ear. “Tell me something you hate about me.”
His lips curved into a smile but he didn’t open his eyes. “Mmm-hmm. Sure.”
“I’m serious.” I pressed my lips to the underside of his jaw. “There’s gotta be something.”
“Mmm. Nope.” His eyes opened a fraction, gazing down at me in a crescent of blue-green, eyelashes long and dark against his cheeks. “Even the stuff I don’t love, I love,” he murmured.
I arched my eyebrows, triumphant. “Ah…so you admit there’s things you hate.”
“Beesly, I am not playing this game.” His eyes were wide open now and stern, but his lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “It is designed to start an argument. And I’m feeling exceptionally content right now.” He tightened his arm around my shoulders, tucked his other arm under his pillow, and closed his eyes again. End of discussion.
I grinned against his skin. “I’ll tell you something.”
“Pam.”
“You snore sometimes.”
“That…is not true.” He still wouldn’t open his eyes, but the smile had broken through. “You are making that up to get a rise out of me.”
“That’s what she—”
“It will not work,” he interrupted.
I sighed and ran my hand over his chest in a wide circle. “It’s true, you do. Not all the time or anything. Just sometimes.” I smiled. “You’re right, though. I don’t really hate it. I mean, it is annoying…” I looked up at him with a grin, “…but I love it, too.”
He quirked an eyebow at me. “I can’t believe you would say that I annoy you. That’s, like, totally mean, Pam,” he said in a perfect Kelly imitation that made me bark out a laugh.
“Fact,” he continued sternly. “I love everything about you. You will never trick, persuade, or harass me into saying otherwise.”
“Ooh, Kelly and Dwight,” I giggled, and then sighed. “Well. It’s hard to believe I’m perfect, but if you say so…”
“Oh no, no. No. I did not say you were perfect. I just said there’s nothing about you that I hate. Totally different things.” He kissed the top of my head. “Okay. You do one thing that annoys me,” he conceded.
“Ah. Spill it,” I commanded happily, glad he’d decided to play along.
“You are a cover hog. A blanket thief.”
“I know,” I sighed. “It annoys you?”
“Sometimes.” His expression said not really.
I sat up on my elbow a little. “What if I tucked it in on your side? That way it wouldn’t come up and—”
“No, I don’t like the blankets tucked in on the side. Pam,” he laughed. “It’s not a…a problem that needs to be solved. It’s just a thing. Part of who you are, so… it’s fine. And we are officially not doing this anymore.” He pulled me back down and planted a wet, smacking kiss on my forehead. “Can we just lie quietly for a while please. Trying to enjoy the moment here.”
I laughed. “Yes sir.”
“Thank you.” He reached down and pulled the blanket up over us, tucking it under my chin. It’s amazing how he can make me feel like a sex goddess one moment and a little girl the next. He’s so fun.
I think this is what is meant by the phrase madly in love. It’s so different from anything I’ve experienced. I adore him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had, in every way imaginable. I’ve never laughed so much. Never felt so much.
And it’s weird because I loved Roy with all my heart for a long time. For the first five years or so, we had a pretty great time together. Roy liked to do things, so we were forever at games or parties. We went to the lake in the summer and skiied in the winter. And I had a lot of fun, but it was always what Roy wanted to do. He was unable to even feign interest in anything that interested me.
Eventually, I realized that while I’d been willing to do whatever he enjoyed just to spend time with him, he was never—well, okay, damned seldom—going to return the favor. So I stopped going to things I had no interest in, which was pretty much everything except the lake and the Poconos, and Roy started taking Kenny everywhere.
It didn’t seem like the beginning of the end. Truth be told, I was relieved. I could read or paint or just putter around the house getting the laundry done with my music or TV in the background. I’d never lived alone, never had a place that was just mine; having the apartment to myself was a delicious luxury. When Roy was home, he was in control of the remote, the stereo, whatever. He seldom asked and even more rarely yielded to my preferences for…anything, really.
But it was partly my own fault he was that way. When we were young, especially, he wasn’t so blind to me. I made him that way through years of “you decide” and “whatever you want is fine.” I thought I was being unselfish, a good girlfriend. But in the end he simply stopped asking me what I thought, what I wanted. I became invisible, even to myself.
So when I met Jim, it was almost like I rediscovered my own existence. He was so interested in every little thing about me, my likes and dislikes, my opinions on…everything…my moods, my quirks. Our connection was immediate, instinctive, from the first incredulous look he shot me at something Dwight said. It’s no wonder I became addicted to his relentless efforts to make me smile.
I’ve tried to stop comparing him to Roy, because it’s really not fair to either of them, but sometimes I can’t help it. Our relationship, our friendship, is just so different. I’m constantly astounded at how normal it feels to just be with him, all the time. Roy was never interested in just hanging out with me for the sake of my company.
At first I worried that being together at work all day would take its toll on us at night; surely we’d get tired of each other. But it hasn’t been that way at all. We never seem to run out of things to say, yet there are long hours of lazy afternoons where we don’t talk at all, when I’m reading or drawing and Jim’s playing Madden or leafing through a magazine. He doesn’t get pissy if I dare speak to him when he’s watching a basketball game. He doesn’t tell me he’ll be over in twenty minutes and then show up two hours later smelling like the bar. I’m never secretly glad to be rid of him for a while when he goes out with his friends.
I can’t help wondering when these things will start to happen. It’s starting to look like maybe never and that’s all kinds of thrilling and terrifying.
This is our life now.
“What else?” he ventured, interrupting my thoughts with a playful little smile.
“Hmm?” I looked up. “What?”
“What else do you hate about me?” His eyes glinted with amusement and curiosity.
There were plenty of things, both large and small, that bugged me about Jim, but hate wasn’t a word I could ever direct toward him. No wonder he’d refused to answer when I first brought it up.
“Not a thing,” I smiled.
He produced an exaggerated scowl. “No fair, Beesly. This one was your idea.”
I bit my lip, considering. The mood was fun-happy-light and I could leave it there, or I could bring up something deep and true and honest that waited for moments like this to see the light of day.
I settled for something in between. “Okay. How about… ah. You have a tendency to leave on, like, every single light in the house.”
“Hmph,” he snorted. “What, you don’t like light?”
I smiled. “It’s cute. It’s like I can tell exactly where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing by how many lights are on. Like a trail of breadcrumbs.”
He grinned at that, but his eyes were skeptical. “So it’s cute, but it bothers you.”
“It’s wasteful.”
“Ah,” he murmured, his eyes sliding away from mine.
The shift was subtle, but it made me uneasy. “I can’t help it,” I said lightly. “My mom was always super strict about saving energy. She kept the thermostat at sixty-five degrees. Our basement was like a meat locker.”
He laughed: my favorite sound in the world. Well… top three, anyway. Right after the way he says my name and that animalistic growl he makes deep in his throat when he’s really aroused. “So it’s a Beesly family thing, you’re telling me,” he reasoned.
“Why do you think I have so many cardigans?” I grinned.
“Another mystery solved.”
“Exactly. Now you do me again.”
His eyes gleamed. “That’s what—”
I smacked his arm. “Stop.”
“See, now that’s something right there. The physical abuse. Honestly, Pam, I never knew you were so prone to violence.” Jim clucked his tongue disapprovingly, rubbing melodramatically at his bicep.
“Wuss.”
“And name calling now too? Oh, Pam,” he shook his head. “What have I gotten into? Maybe I should just take this back.” He grabbed my left hand and made a show of attempting to pull off my engagement ring, which soon dissolved into one of our competitive wrestling/tickling matches. I never stood a chance, of course; he’s only ticklish in a couple of places and it’s hard to get to that particular spot high up on his ribs when he’s holding me off with his ridiculously long arms. But it’s always fun to try.
When I finally cried for mercy he rolled over to pin me beneath him, flushed and panting, his hair falling into my face as he rested his forehead against mine. “Tell me something you love about me,” he whispered.
I kissed him. “I’ll show you.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Standard disclaimers apply. Don't own anything.
Sometimes I want to shout to the whole world how lucky I am to have you as my friend but sometimes I want to hush…afraid that somebody might take you away from me.
--anonymous
Sometimes I want to shout to the whole world how lucky I am to have you as my friend but sometimes I want to hush…afraid that somebody might take you away from me.
--anonymous
Chapter End Notes:
I have a few more of these that follow our kids through the summer.
As always, thanks to all for reading!
As always, thanks to all for reading!
