Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, another quick update. We're getting there, folks.
I finished my courses at Pratt and said goodbye to my new friends. I tried to hide my secret sadness with a bright smile. I missed Jim. I missed home. But knew I’d miss my New York life, too. So when Jim drove me back to Scranton, I tried to be cheerful and chatty while I discretely wiped away the couple of tears that snuck out. I don’t think he noticed.
I didn’t want to be confused any more. I didn’t want to NOT know what I wanted anymore. I hated that indecisive, unsure part of myself and damn it, I was ready to move on and make some decisions.
But even still, I wasn’t quite ready for Jim to propose yet, and every time we were alone together, every time he gave me a certain look, I held my breath hoping he wouldn’t ask. Not yet. I would have said yes if he did ask, of course, but I just needed a little time to figure out my life. I wanted to quit being a receptionist at Dunder Mifflin. I wanted to take myself and my career seriously. I didn’t just want to be someone’s fiancée and get caught up in planning a wedding. Again.
So instead of getting engaged we moved in together and neither of us brought up my earlier comment about wanting to be married first. I don’t know exactly what I had been doing when I said that to Jim. Hinting? Baiting? Fishing? Was I really so unsure of our status that I needed him to propose for me to feel secure? Had I really been that girl … the one who pressures her boyfriend into proposing? I felt ashamed of that whole conversation, now. I obviously didn’t believe that people needed to be engaged or married to live together – I lived with for awhile Roy when we were neither. I hated that I dropped a heavy handed hint instead of just telling him what I wanted. And even what I wanted seemed to change from moment to moment.
But I shouldn’t have worried so much because Jim didn’t ask. I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t asking and at first I was relieved enough that I didn’t care. But eventually, if you can believe it, I started feeling a little resentful. Even though I wasn’t quite ready for the ring on my finger, I was kind of annoyed that he didn’t seem to want to put it there anymore. At the time, I thought maybe it was because he was trying so hard NOT to be Roy.
Our whole relationship – from the moment we met – Jim prided himself in being the anti-Roy. When Roy was overbearing and bossy, Jim deferred to my preferences. When Roy was thoughtless and insensitive, Jim always knew the right thing to say. But sometimes, sometimes Jim seemed to ignore his own instinct, seemed to stifle his true nature just so he wouldn’t be anything like Roy. And not very often but once in awhile, I missed Roy telling me what to do. Roy would have said, “If you want to quit your job, Pammy, just fucking quit and stop whining about it.” But Jim said stuff like, “Well, what do you want to do? I’ll support you no matter what choice you make.” You wouldn’t think supportiveness could be so infuriating.
So time passed and things went on and I did get a new job, which I loved. I thought that would fix everything – that my new job would fill the hole I was feeling lately and things with Jim would straighten out nicely. But it didn't, really. It actually seemed like Jim was changing, too.
One time, Jim watched me get ready for work. I slipped on a clingy gray v-neck sweater over a black bra. I wore a slim black pencil skirt and knee-high boots, and pulled my hair back into a messy bun. I put on my make up – I was still new at it, but my friends had given me lessons, and I kind of liked practicing. It was like painting, in a way. I liked feeling pretty, confident, a little bit sexy, even.
“You dress different for work now.”
“What do you mean?” I was trying to get my mascara on without blinking. It took every ounce of concentration I had.
“I don’t know. You put in a lot of effort for this job.”
“Yeah.” I switched eyes. “I didn’t care about being taken seriously as a receptionist, I guess.”
Jim was quiet for a moment and I finally stopped putting on my make up to look at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. What? I saw you in Stamford, Jim. You dressed different there, too. You worked harder. You were trying.”
“Yeah.” His voice was flat. Maybe even a little pissy. “I was definitely trying.”
We didn’t talk much about the past, Jim and I. We had gotten together so quickly after he broke up with Karen and neither of us wanted to be the one to break the spell, so we had started dating and sleeping together, and moving forward. Neither of us knew how to go back and address our history without mucking up the waters. So whenever things came up, even now, I felt us both tense up.
“You know what I mean, Jim. You were trying to take your job seriously. You dressed the part. You made the effort.”
“So this is you making the effort.”
“Yeah,” I said, raising my chin up. “This is me.”
Our eyes met in the mirror and we stared for a minute until I blinked and then reached for my lipstick.
Chapter End Notes:
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