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It was Thursday afternoon, and Jim smiled when he saw the number of the caller on his cell phone.
“Hey,” he answered quickly.
“Hey, how’s it going?” He was delighted to hear her voice, but she sounded tired. She couldn’t have gotten much sleep this week with all the projects she’d been finishing, and their conversations had been necessarily short because she was so busy. It was very unsatisfying from his point of view, but he knew she needed to spend the time on that last push for her class work. That was why she was in New York, after all, he reminded himself.
“This is the longest Thursday of my life,” he answered truthfully. “ I cannot wait for it to be over.”
Despite Pam’s assurances to him that she really was ready to come home, Ryan’s words haunted him because he wondered how much truth there was in them. Was he holding her back? Was he dooming her to a dull life in Scranton? How would he know?
“So, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d want to come up tomorrow night instead of Saturday morning?”
“I thought you were going out with your friends for a send off?” Pam had her last project due in at 1 pm on Friday, and she’d related a plan to him that she would sleep in the afternoon, spend a goodbye evening with some of her classmates, and he’d come up Saturday morning to help her move out. He’d managed to put his selfish wishes to see her sooner aside and encouraged her to go with them, because he knew she loved opportunities to go out and experience the city and he was sure she wanted to say goodbye to her friends.
“Alex has scored some seriously good invitations to a private event at the Museum of Modern Art, and there are a couple of extras. He offered an extra to me so I could ask you. I know this isn’t really your thing, but this museum is amazing and I want you to see some of it.”
His hesitation was audible in his silence. Alex had offered a ticket for him? Now that was a surprise.
“And I miss you, and I’d love for you to meet some of my friends. I’ve talked about you so much - they want to meet you.“
It was ridiculous, he thought, but he felt a flush of happiness that she’d talked about him to her friends. Jesus, Halpert, are you still in 7th grade?, he chastised himself. He contemplated the offer.
“Pam, I don’t know anything about art, really.“ The message in between the lines of his reply was that he didn’t want her to be embarrassed that her fiancé was clueless about art, and he didn’t want to look like an idiot, especially in front of Art Boy. And he knew that was silly, but he couldn’t deny the his feelings.
“And you never will if you don’t look at any.” Ouch.
“Are you sure you don’t want to. . .” he started.
“I want you to come or I wouldn’t have asked, stupid. Hang on.” He could hear her answer the door and say, “Yeah, I’ll be there down there in just a minute, Alex.”
Her words combined with the thought of seeing Pam one day earlier trumped his misgivings. Friday night was better than Saturday.
“I’m sorry, that was harsh.” She responded when she returned to their conversation. “What I mean is that I miss you and I want to show you off to my friends.”
That got a laugh out of him. “Okay, that’s an offer I can’t refuse, Beesly.”
“Good.” He could hear her smile over the phone. “We may go out for drinks before you get here, so I’ll leave you a parking pass and the invitation at my dorm reception desk, and then you can take a cab up to the museum.”
“But.”
“You can do that, Jim.”
“Yes m’am.”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too. Hey, what do I wear?”
“Work clothes are fine.”
“Okay, got it. I’ll leave straight from work.”
“I’ll call you Friday after I turn in this last project.”
“It’s a date.” He paused. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. Friday.”
And she was gone.
What had he done? He was going to an art museum with her art friends? He needed his head examined. At least it gave him something to worry about the rest of the afternoon. . .
*************************
Friday afternoon at 4:45, Jim left the office to a round of cheers, thumbs up, and several, “We can’t wait for Pam to be back, either” well wishes. Except from Ryan, that is, who was spending his last day as receptionist at the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin.
As Jim lifted his coat from the rack, Ryan’s message was simple and dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, Jim. Go rescue Pam in New York. And bring her back here. To Scranton. To you.” Jim suppressed his urge to respond, turned around, and walked out the door.
Jim arrived at Pam’s dorm about 7:30. He picked up the parking pass and a fancy invitation at the desk, left his car in the parking structure, and hailed a cab to the address she had given him. He called to let her know he was coming, and sure enough, when he arrived at the entrance, there she was.
God, she looked beautiful. Her hair was falling over her shoulders in a very disconcerting manner, and she was wearing a deep blue dress that accentuated her simple beauty. He wanted to take her into his arms and…well….his hardest task tonight was going to be pretending he was interested in the paintings, when all he really wanted to do was look at her. His gaze must have given him away, because the first thing she said was, “I know. Just a little while longer,” and she kissed him and ushered him into the museum. She took him to where all her friends were gathered in a semicircle, discussing a painting.
“Hey guys, this is Jim, my fiancé. Jim, this is Andrea, Ross, Keisha, Alice, Jorge, Kim, and Alex,” Pam introduced everyone in turn. “ They’ve gotten me through these three months.”
Jim shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with everyone and, surprisingly, he thought he had the names all straight. He’d been hearing about them the whole time from Pam, so the names were familiar and it was interesting to put them with faces. The group meandered through the museum, talking about exhibited pieces, and Jim tried to absorb the names of the artists and say as little as possible. He found some of the pieces amazing, some of them weird, and some of them just plain ridiculous, so he nodded a lot, and stole glances at Pam whenever possible.
Eventually the group fragmented a bit, and he found himself looking in awe at Van Gogh’s Starry Starry Night with Art Boy/Alex. This was Jim’s opportunity.
“Hey, Alex, I wanted to thank you for picking up Pam the other night. She was pretty spooked.”
Alex smiled. “No problem. I doubt there was much danger, but I knew she’d been getting those phone calls, and you can’t be too cautious. It’s a big city." Wait. She’d told Alex about the calls and not him? He hadn’t had time to process that when Alex took his opportunity as well.
“Jim, you know Pam is quite talented.”
“I think so.” Jim replied carefully.
“I know you all are engaged, and she is obviously in love with you, but I think she ought to consider staying in New York, I really do. I mean, could you work here in the city? I’m afraid if she leaves she’ll be too far away from New York to really stay connected to the art world, and her work will suffer. Surely you understand.”
“I don’t know.” Jim said noncommittally. “Of course, it’s up to Pam, and I’ll support whatever decisions she makes.”
“There is so much more opportunity here for her, if she's serious about her work.” Alex pushed harder. A little too hard, Jim thought.
“Yeah,” Jim said slowly as he shrugged his shoulders. “How do you suppose Van Gogh managed to paint this and not be in New York?” He took a second to enjoy the look on Alex’s face. “Wait, there aren’t even any stars in New York, are there?” Jim tried to keep at least a hint of humor in his voice. “Wouldn’t have happened.”
Alex cocked his head and his look told Jim that Alex had underestimated him. That made him happy. Just then Pam and Ross walked up, and Pam spoke. “I see you all are admiring Van Gogh.”
Alex and Jim exchanged glances and nodded, and then Alex spoke, “I'm headed to the drink table, Pam, would you like a drink?”
“Yes, that would be great if you’re going, Alex, thanks.”
“How about you, Jim?”
“No thanks, I’m good. Gotta keep my head clear so I can learn some stuff tonight,” he smiled and winked.
Alex raised an eyebrow as he gave Jim a wry look.
Oblivious to their exchange, Pam took his arm and smiled warmly, and any thoughts of Art Boy rapidly disappeared from Jim’s universe. Pam proceeded to talk about the painting, but Jim was thinking much less artistic thoughts. Meanwhile, he could hear the hushed tones behind him of Keisha and Alice speaking while standing in front of a nearby painting.
“Day-um,” said Keisha. “ I’d go back to Scranton wherethehellever too if I had that long tall drink of water to go home to. Umm, hmmm.”
Alice giggled, and said, “Yeah, I can’t say that I blame her either.”
Jim strained to hear more of the conversation, but just then Alex arrived with Pam’s drink.
“Here you go,” Alex said. Pam graciously accepted, grinned a mischievous grin, and chugged it.
Oh no, Jim thought wide eyed. A Dundee style Pam was not what he’d imagined when he’d planned the evening. Within minutes, Pam was, as she put it, feelin’ good. God, how many had she had before this? And on top of her fatigue?
“Hey Pam, what do you say we head back to the dorm.”
“But we haventh theen all the moth famoth art, Jim.”
“Ohhh. Kay. Did you wear a coat?”
“Yeth.” Of course she had. The September evening was too cool for just her sleeveless dress. How was he going to manage getting her coat and getting her out the door?
Seeing their predicament, Alex came to the rescue. “I’ll get it at the coat check and meet you at the door. Pam, give me your number.” Like a regular freaking white knight, this Alex. Was it fair that he was already tired of this guy? Jim didn't know.
“Othay. ‘ish hundred fiftheen.” Pam handed Alex the tag from her purse.
“Thanks,” Jim said and grabbed Pam’s arm to direct her toward the front door. “Nice to meet you all,” he waved to her friends’ understanding faces. He managed to get her coat on , get her out to the curb, and get her into a cab.
“Wow, that drink really hith me. I’m thorry Jim,” she apologized on the way back to the dorm.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured her, and it was. He was just glad to be taking her home tomorrow. He felt so out of place here, so foreign. Thankfully they soon arrived at the dorm, and after a few attempts at trying to get her to put one foot in front of the other, Jim finally just hoisted her up into his arms. As he entered the lobby, the desk attendant shook her head and motioned him on up with a grin, and he carried her up to her room.
“Pam.” He tried to rouse her.”Pam!”
She opened her eyes and squinted. “Yeesh.”
“Where are your keys?”
“My purth…or my pocket? Dunno.” He sat her against the wall next to her room. Jim searched her purse in vain, and her coat pockets yielded no keys either.
They couldn’t spend the night in the hall.
“Back in a sec,” he said, and he went back downstairs to the desk.
“Pam Beesly can’t find her keys,” he pleaded with the clerk.
“This isn’t like Pam,” the clerk sighed as she dragged out the master key and walked up the stairs to open Pam’s door. She shook her head at Pam, who was now sound asleep on the hall floor. “You her fiancé?”
“That would be me,” he nodded with a grin.
“You take good care of her - she’s a nice person,” stated the clerk matter-of-factly as she headed back to her post.
“Thanks, I will.”
Jim picked Pam back up and laid her on the bed in her room. “Pam,” he said, as he gently shook her shoulder, but he could see it was no use. She wasn’t going to be talking any more tonight. He slipped off her shoes, pulled a blanket over her, and kissed the top of her head. “No more partying for you, young lady,” he mumbled, trying to see the humor in the situation.
Now what? He really wanted his toothbrush and something else to sleep in, but his duffle bag was still out in his car. He would go get them, he decided. He rummaged around in Pam’s purse again and found her keycard to the side door outside so he could just sneak back in, and stashed it in his pocket. He still found no room keys. Oh screw it, he thought, as Pam snored gently on the bed. He stuck one of her pumps in the crack of her room door, headed down the hall, down the stairs, and past the front desk. The clerk must be in the bathroom or something, Jim thought, because nobody was at the desk.
He made his way into the parking structure, had no trouble locating his Saab, and retrieved his bag from the back seat. He'd locked his car and turned to head back toward the dorm, when he saw a man across the parking lot waving frantically at him. “Look out!” Jim finally understood his words.
He turned to his left just enough to catch a glimpse of the baseball bat - right before it connected with his shoulder and the back of his head. He kept his wits just long enough to appreciate the irony of seeing stars in New York. And then there was blackness.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim heads to New York.
The song is from Don McLean, who set the poem to music.
(Vincent)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkvLq0TYiwI
The song is from Don McLean, who set the poem to music.
(Vincent)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkvLq0TYiwI
Chapter End Notes:
Apologies for the long update gap. The holidays had me too busy to write. This will probably have two more chapters. Reviews are always appreciated.
