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Rhode Island
by Steph

Summary: Pam and Sasha have a very big discussion about a very small state. Written for the Nobodysbizathon.

Timeline: Early Season 4

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.

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Using scratch paper and colored pencils, Pam drew houses and flowers, gardens and sunsets. Sasha preferred crayons - with names like goldenrod and periwinkle that filled Pam with nostalgia - and drawing animals. Brightly colored bears and crocodiles; hippos and giraffes.

“Those are great,” Pam said, hoping it didn’t sound too fake. She always felt weird around kids - even sweet ones like Sasha. She was always worried they didn’t like her.

Sasha didn’t answer her, her pale eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she finished coloring in her giraffe. Below the giraffe, in the right-hand corner, Sasha began drawing a snake.

“I hate snakes,” Pam said.

Sasha looked up at her and smiled. She was missing a tooth. “I love snakes.” She hissed and Pam laughed.

Sasha finished the snake and pushed the paper away. “When’s my dad coming back?”

“A couple more minutes,” Pam said. Toby had the day off and had planned to take Sasha to an amusement park, but had been called in for some last-minute HR emergency teleconference. Pam didn’t know the details, but had offered to keep an eye on Sasha for the length of the phone call.

“Good,” Sasha said. Then she frowned. “I hate Rhode Island.”

Pam laughed, surprised. Where had that random thought come from? “Why do you hate Rhode Island?”

“I don’t know,” Sasha said. “We're probably gonna move there. Me and Mom and John. Rhode Island is stupid.”

Pam watched the girl for a few seconds before asking, “Why Rhode Island?”

Sasha shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Pam thought about this. Toby had been acting weird lately. Dazed some of the time; snippy some of the time; depressed all the time. No wonder.

God. Poor Toby.

“It’s a secret,” Sasha said. “I’m not supposed to tell my dad yet.”

Oh no, Pam thought, her smile frozen to her face.

“He’s going to be so sad,” Sasha said. Then she frowned again. “My dad’s eyes are always sad. Even when he’s happy, he’s sad.”

That was a depressingly astute observation for an eight year old to have about her father.

“Do you want to play cards?” Pam asked, very anxious to change the subject. "We can play Crazy Eights."

“I bet there are a lot of gorillas in stupid Rhode Island,” Sasha said. She had earlier confided in Pam that she hated gorillas.

“Well...”

“Dad!” Sasha called happily when Toby walked over to them. “Look at the pictures I drew for you.”

Pam watched them both as Toby oohed and aahed over the pictures of the animals. “They’re beautiful. I’ll put them on the fridge.”

Toby looked at Pam. “Thank you so much, Pam. I owe you big time.” He said the last bit shyly, nervously, barely looking at her, and she wondered, and not for the first time, what she had done to make him so uncomfortable around her.

“Any time,” she said. “See you soon, Sasha.”

Sasha met Pam's eyes, appearing almost tired, looking older than her eight years. Pam was suddenly struck by how much she looked like Toby. Similar coloring, similar features.

Similar weary expression on her face.

Her moving would kill him, Pam thought to herself.

“Bye Pam,” Sasha waved. Then she yelled, “Bye Jim.”

Jim, on the phone, and not able to participate in the drawing fun, waved back at her and grinned.

Pam watched Toby help Sasha with her purple jacket, heard him talk about the kind of rides they’d go on at the amusement park, the kind of fried foods they’d eat.

“Fried buffalo,” Toby said and there was a lightness, almost a goofiness to his voice that Pam had never heard before. “Fried llama.”

Sasha giggled. “Fried snake.” She hissed again and Toby laughed.

“Have fun,” Pam said. “Bring me back some fried snake.”

The two of them left and Pam went back to her work and tried hard not to think about fathers and daughters and tried very hard not to think about Rhode Island.

The End


Steph is the author of 37 other stories.



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