“You think so?” Pam set the paintbrush down, the earthy tones from her painting stained on her once-blue smock.
“Definitely.” Emma slipped her hands behind her head, pulling her blonde hair up into a bun and securing it with her pencil. “Look here,” she pointed to the green wisps that were flowing from the bottom of the paper to the top. “You’ve created some real depth here Pam.” Emma set a hand on Pam’s shoulder and smiled at her, the lines in her forehead pulling apart and revealing her age. Emma squeezed Pam’s shoulder slightly, and went back to wiping up the empty classroom tables around her.
“So have you given any more thoughts to leaving North-East?” Emma sprayed the wooden tables with the clear solution,using the rag to try and clean up the paint that her students had left from earlier that day. Pam sighed, got off the stool, and hung her painting up in the back of the room on the drying rack.
“Not really. I had a long conversation with my Mom the other day, and she thinks I should start looking for jobs doing something I actually love, not designing logos for coffee shops in Philadelphia that I’ve never even visited before.” Pam laughed, and lifted her stool up on the table, matching the other chairs. Emma smiled, and flicked the light off in the classroom.
“You ready?” Pam nodded and grabbed her bag, leaving the room as Emma followed her out.
“So, where for dinner tonight?” She pushed her canvas bag further up her shoulder, the sun hitting both of their eyes as they stepped out into the Moore College courtyard. Hundreds of students made their way past them, trying to find their ways to classes. It was only the third day of school, but after being here for three years Pam had learned to pick out the freshman like it was second nature.
“I don’t know, you want to get a wrap at Pita Pit? Something light?” Emma asked as the two women got inside Emma’s beat up green Subaru outside the art building.
“Sounds good to me,” Pam replied, setting her bag in the back seat next to the hundreds of papers and empty granola bar wrappers that lined the back seat. She smiled to herself, secretly envious of the life that Emma lived. Her routine of getting up, doing yoga, walking her dog and then spending her day teaching college students sounded so simple to Pam; simplicity something she hadn’t yet learned to obtain. It was quiet in the car for a few moments before Pam spoke up,
“Roy called me the other day,” she mumbled, pulling the visor down to block the sun.
“That, douchebag?” Emma looked over her eyebrows raised, “What the hell did he want?” Pam laughed at her friend’s bluntness, crossing her arms over her chest.
“To tell me that he finally got that job in Wisconsin. He’d been applying there for years, trying to get out of Dunder Mifflin- you know that paper company we both worked for years ago?” Emma nodded, remembering.
“That was the place where you met-“
Pam cut her off, “Yeah,” She averted her eyes, and glanced outside the window at the high rise buildings of Philadelphia, all standing tall pointing towards the sky. They both sat in silence once again, as Emma pulled into the parking lot.
“Anyway, Roy’s leaving Pennsylvania, he just wanted to say bye before he moved.”
“Don’t you fuss about him,” Emma placed a hand over Pam’s, putting the car in park outside the restaurant. “That man treated you like shit. All you did when you first moved out here four years ago was cry over his sorry little ass,” Pam giggled, feeling tears brim in her eyes.
“I know, I know,” She nodded with a sigh.
“So forget about that phone call, and let’s go get ourselves some of those delicious turkey pockets,” Emma got out of the car, wrapping a hand around her friends shoulder.
“Tell you what, today’s my treat,” She pressed Pam close to her.
“Thank you,” Pam stopped walking and turned to face Emma, “for everything I mean.” She glanced down at her shoes, and faded jeans, waiting for a moment. “You don’t know how much it’s meant to me to have someone in my life like you,” Pam looked up, “it’s been so difficult dealing with Roy, and trying to get him out of my life. I never would have been able to do this without you and I just-“ Emma held up her hand, pulling her friend into a hug.
“You don’t have to thank me. You’ve become like a sister to me Pam, and I appreciate that,” Emma smiled and the two of them made their way into the restaurant, their noses filling with the smells of fresh bread and deli meat.
Pam placed her order, and then grabbed a seat by the window, sipping occasionally on the cold soda in her hands. She watched as Emma grabbed a Vitamin Water and sat down with her.
“How do you manage to eat so healthy?” Pam smiled, flicking her finger on the water bottle. Emma glanced at it,
“After Greg left, I just decided I was going to change my whole life around. I started eating better, I took up yoga, got a dog, I made my life the way I always wanted it,” Emma toyed with the white slip of paper in her hand, the one adorned with their order number.
Pam nodded, “I wish I could do that,” she said quietly.
Emma scoffed at her, “Pam, don’t be ridiculous, you have! You left that low-paying receptionist job where you got treated like crap by your boss, you moved to the “big city,” she made air quotes with her fingers and Pam noticed the chipped green finger nail polish on only her right hand, “you have your own place, your own car. Hell, you’re about ready to walk out of your comfort zone with a job that you’re great at, but you don’t like. I’d say that’s a pretty big accomplishment,” Emma’s eyes opened wide from behind her glasses, the magnification making her resemble something of a bug. Pam smiled, tilting her head to the side, and leaned on her arm.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Forty-Eight?”
Pam looked over to the window, seeing their food on a red tray by the cash register, “That’s us.” She got up from her seat, Emma following suit. “I got it,” she waved her arm casually, and skipped up to the counter. Emma shook her head smiling, envious of the opportunity that lay ahead for Pam; opportunities she didn’t even realize could happen.
The briefcase landed with a thud on the countertop as Jim watched his daughter scarf down the bagel in front of her, briefly looking over notes. He stuck his head over her shoulder and looked down,
“Whatcha got there?” He asked, making her jump, her bagel landing on the floor.
“Dad!” She scolded him, as he laughed. She turned around to smack his arm, but stopped when she saw him, a grin appearing over her face. “You’re dressed up,” her eyes lit up as she reached up to wrap her arms around him, snuggling close into his dress shirt.
“Hey, hey, took me fifteen minutes to look this good,” he opened his arms, pointing to his dress shirt and tie, his daughter chuckling at him.
“Don’t try so hard Dad, you’re still old,” Claire picked her back pack up from the floor, grabbing the uneaten bagel and throwing it away, nudging him out of her way.
“Easy kid, I am not old,” Jim glanced over into the mirror, his face contorting a bit as he looked for grey hairs.
“Let’s go Grandpa!” Claire hollered out the door, rushing towards their car. Jim shook his head, grabbed the water bottles and the coffee mug off the counter and took a deep breath. This was it, he was going back. His stomach flopped over and he felt as though he was going back to ninth grade all over again.
”Breathe Jim,” he whispered aloud, shutting the door behind him. He inhaled the cool fall air, glanced around at the leaves that needed to be raked, and thought about picking up a pumpkin after school. He knew Claire would ask about Halloween soon enough. Every year it was tradition the three of them would travel up to Boston to go to his brother’s Halloween party, but this year he wondered if maybe he could get away with doing something special, just with Claire.
“Hey kiddo?” Jim hopped in the car, chucking his briefcase over the back of the seat.
“Yeah?” Claire buckled herself, turning the radio up.
“Oh my God, I love this song,” Jim glanced down at the satellite radio and looked at the receiver.
“What the hell is this?” Jim raised an eyebrow at his daughter, while backing out of the drive.
“It’s music Dad,” she mumbled, reaching to turn it up again.
“Hang on, I want to talk to you about something,” Jim hit the knob, silencing the car. He brought his travel mug to his lips, slurping the coffee as Claire just watched him. “So I was thinking, since every year we go to Uncle Tom’s for his Halloween party…”
She cut him off, “Oh yeah! I’m totally going as a dead bride this year, isn’t that awesome? Amy said she’d help me out with the costume, it’s going to be so epic,” Claire grinned, waiting for her father’s approval. Jim laughed, watching his daughter start to animate herself again, he felt as if it had been forever since he’d seen her bubbly self.
“Well…” he stammered, changing lanes on the interstate, “I kind of thought we wouldn’t go up to Boston this year,” she looked over at him, eyes wide.
“What, why?” her voice raised a bit. Jim held back the urge to groan. This new hysteria that was coming along with her becoming a teenager, was not pleasant.
“Because, I think you and I need to start new traditions. I know that me and your Mom took you there every year, but don’t you think it would be fun to do something just you and I?” The truth was Jim was pleading. He knew that he couldn’t get up there and face his entire family just yet. The last time he’d seen them all was at the funeral and he was a wreck, he really didn’t want to rehash all of that again, just when he was beginning to get his life back on track.
“I guess…” Claire said hesitantly. “What would we do?”
“Well, that would be up to you. We could do anything you wanted,” Jim nodded.
“Anything?”
“Within reason,” He looked over at her sternly. Claire just smiled, she could tell whenever he was trying to be fatherly—it never worked.
“Can we go to the school Harvest party?” Jim glanced over at her, as they pulled into the parking lot of Rippowam Middle School.
“You want to go to that?” He pulled the car into his parking spot and looked over at her. “I thought you hated that party. I believe your exact words last year were, ‘that’s lame.’”
“I just thought it might be fun…you know… if maybe you and I decorated a pumpkin for it, and we could bob for apples and stuff, and I know you said that’s unsanitary but I just thought we could be like…like the other families,” she was twiddling her thumbs, trying not to look at him. Jim waited a moment and then set a hand on her leg.
“I’d love that Claire-bear,”
“So, Claire, I’ll see you at the car at 2:25, please don’t be late,” Jim reminded Claire as they pushed opened the double doors, entering the foyer. He knew once Claire caught sight of one of her thousand friends, she’d bolt.
“Okay Dad,” she mumbled, pushing the strap of her L. L. Bean backpack further up her arm.
“You got lunch money?” He asked her; Claire just nodded.
Claire started towards her locker, but before she could get too far, he set a hand on her shoulder,
“Love you,” he whispered. Claire turned back at him, staring at his face for a moment.
She finally smiled, “I love you too Dad,” squeezing his hand she turned around.
“Claire!” Jim smiled as he watched three of her friends overtake her and take off toward the B wing, giggling and whispering about something fascinating that had happened that Monday morning.
Jim started off past the office, giving a small wave to the secretary who was on the phone, and then took the stairs, two at a time to the middle school English classrooms. He stopped in front of his classroom, Mr. Halpert labeled on the door; Jim smiled. It was like coming home again. He glanced, before going in his own room, to see if Mrs. Bradley or Ms. Savo was in yet. Both of their classrooms seemed to be dark, and he released a sigh. Both of the older women had been at the school for years, never leaving Stamford CT. for anything. They were both dedicated to their students and their jobs, and Jim admired them for that. But he also knew that they both were set in their ways, and not exactly loved by the students.
He unlocked his door, pushing it open, feeling the drafty breeze that always remained after a weekend. Flicking on the fluorescent lights, he illuminated the classroom. He checked to make sure that the substitute had left all the desks in a circle, and that the books on the shelves weren’t in disarray. When he came back after Claire was born, his room had been completely turned upside down. Jim still wasn’t entirely sure why subs always seemed to be either fresh out of high school, or middle aged women who’d never worked with students before. Kids just didn’t listen to them. He walked over to his desk at the front of the room, setting down his briefcase with a thud on the metal, and glanced behind him. A smile broke out over his lips as he read the “Welcome Back Mr. Halpert!” on the whiteboard, from his 8th graders. All of them had taken time to sign their names in different color marker. Grinning, he pulled out 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea and opened it up to where he’d marked it off last night. His classes had been reading poetry for the time that he had been gone, and occasionally he’d get an email from the substitute saying that the students seemed uninterested and bored with the subject material. Obviously Jim had thought to himself, wondering why the school hadn’t let him pick out the material himself for while he was gone. Although, thinking back on it, Jim wasn’t sure he would have been able to handle making lesson plans and worrying about work with Sarah gone. In fact, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to.
Jim jumped as the door swung open, hitting the back of the hallway’s wall,
“Mr. Halpert?” He looked over to find Chloe Mitchells, one of his honors students, standing in the doorway with her folders bunched up to her chest. When he met her eyes, she smiled, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to beckon her in.
“Come on in Chloe,” Jim smiled warmly, walking around the outside of his desk, and leaning on it. “What’s up?” he asked as she came near him, setting her books down. She stood there silently for a moment, watching him. Jim was about to open his mouth to ask her what she needed again, when she overtook him with a hug, wrapping her small arms around his waist.
“I’m really glad you’re back,” Jim’s arms awkwardly found their way to her shoulders and patted them.
“Thanks Chloe, it means a lot,” he stepped back, and she smiled up at him, cocking her head to the side. ’Is she wearing lip gloss?’ Jim thought, raising his eyebrows.
“So, I’ll see you second period?” She asked him, gathering her things again.
“You bet. Don’t forget your book,” he waved a finger at her cautiously and she giggled.
“I won’t Mr. Halpert,” she bounced out of the room, meeting a group of girls who, when the door opened again, started giggling and grabbed her by the arms.
Jim rolled his eyes and sat back down at his desk, glancing at his watch. There were only five more minutes until the bell would ring for first period to start. He began to wonder if they’d ask him questions, or how much they actually knew. News traveled fast in this school, and he was almost positive he would have to debunk some rumors that were surely flying. Leaning on his arm he thought about Claire, wondering what things would be like in just a couple years. He tried to remember if Claire wore lip gloss, if she would soon be asking for things like make up, and going to boy’s houses, and… he had to stop himself. Jim was making himself sick. The sounds of sneakers against linoleum were hastening and the metal slamming of lockers was beginning to pang in his ears; he shut his eyes.
“You know Jim, she’s not going to be a little girl forever,” Sarah came behind him, touching the small of his back as she placed a dish on the drying rack. Jim lifted his hands from the soapy water, and dried them on a dish towel. He spun around, leaning against the counter, slipping his hands into his faded jeans.
“I know. I’m just worried about her Sarah, she wouldn’t even look at me today,” Jim’s gaze fell to the floor, Sarah pressed a hand to his arm, rubbing her thumb along the fabric of his rolled up sleeve.
“She’s just upset. There was no reason why you had to tell her no today, she would have been fine,” Sarah kissed his hand that she was holding, bringing Jim’s gaze up to her.
“I just don’t like when she goes over to Abigail’s, every time she comes back there, she cops an attitude with us for three days,” Jim sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I know, but there’s nothing wrong with Abby or her family, and she’s getting older, she needs to learn to make choices on her own about who she spends time with,” Sarah pulled him toward the kitchen table, beckoning him to sit down as she rubbed his shoulders. Jim drooped his head tiredly, letting her work the knots out of his back.
“They’re vicious Sarah. She’s eleven years old; I don’t even want to think about what it’s going to be like when she goes to middle school. I know those kids Sarah,” He looked behind him, up at her, “they’re mean,” He finished. Sarah laughed,
“I know, I know,” she kissed the back of his ear, his brown hair tickling her mouth, “You’ve got to let her go a little bit, make her own decisions.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “I’ll go talk to her,” he pushed himself back from the table, and stood up, pulling Sarah to him, kissing her slowly.
“Good boy,” she teased, patting him on the bottom as he smiled back at her.
“What would I do without you?” He asked her, tilting his head to the side.
He opened his eyes, his classroom door swinging open and shut as students filled the room, laughing loudly and racing to their seats. Boys calling each other from across the room, while most of the girls flipped through magazines, or the more quiet ones listened to their music through headphones. Jim stood up, grabbed a white board marker, and waited until they all saw him, and quieted down. He walked around the other side of his desk, hopped atop it and smiled at all of them.
“Good morning and welcome to another fabulous day in 8th grade English,” He coined his usual phrase, as he watched a few smiles pop up on the faces of his students. Things were starting to feel normal again.
