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.
Thanks to NanReg and Vampiric Blood, as always.
Finally, a managerial decision that even Michael couldn't screw up – sending everyone home early today. The Scranton weather forecasters were all in a frenzy, anticipating the biggest snowfall in decades. In an unusual consensus, every last one of them said this beast was poised to hit today, this very Friday afternoon. Even the grumpiest, most conservative guy on channel six was calling for twenty three inches (really Bob, not two feet?), even more evidence that this was the real thing.
Sure enough, the snow started falling about noon, as predicted. Big delicate flakes the size of nickels floated down, filling the sky outside their office windows with whiteness. By twelve thirty, an inch of snow had already accumulated, so Michael and everyone else arrived at the speedy conclusion that Scranton wouldn’t be buying much paper or many printers this afternoon. They all filed quickly out of the building to their cars.
Jim and Pam were last out – Pam wasn’t moving so fast these days, and it seemed to him that another whole inch had fallen in the time it took them to get downstairs. He walked with his arm hooked into Pam’s. With only three weeks until her due date, her balance had started to suffer and he’d already kept her from falling more than once. Of course, he thought her little waddle was pretty darn adorable, but he wisely kept that to himself. They watched as Dwight’s red Trans Am fishtailed badly when he pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. Jim started to speak, but swallowed his comment and cleared his throat.
Pam did not fail to notice. “Don’t say it,” she warned.
“What?” he asked with a closed lip smile, shrugging and feigning innocence. He couldn’t mask the twinkle in his eyes.
She narrowed her gaze, giving him the stink eye.
”You mean,” he suppressed a bigger grin, “about how brilliant I was for insisting on getting four wheel drive?”
“The salesman talked you into it,” she said, shaking snowflakes from her curls in defiance. “You still think it was your idea?”
He knew he looked smug as he helped her into the passenger’s seat of the Outback and grabbed the scraper from the floorboard. “Why yes, yes, I believe it was,” he said, and quickly closed the door before she could reply. Because it really had been his idea. He cleared the front and back windshields with a few long strokes before he slid into the driver’s seat and cranked up the car. Jim pulled out into the road, purposefully gunning it a little just to show her that there wouldn’t be any slipping with this car. He raised his eyebrows in triumph and Pam simply rolled her eyes.
He chose to take the back way home to avoid traffic. Along the route, they passed right by the Rite Aid. The parking lot was bulging with cars, the store full of desperate shoppers stocking up on bread, milk, and toilet paper.
As they passed the store, Pam piped up. “So, who was that brilliant person who, despite your pitiful moans about missing the end of the Laker's game, insisted we go to the grocery last night?"
“That is so not the way it went down, Beesly. You’re writing some revisionist history there – not cool,” he scolded good naturedly. “If I remember correctly – and I do - you were desperate for some Rocky Road, and the rest of that huge basket full of groceries was just ‘since we’re here’ extras.”
“Well you’re not going to be complaining for the next couple of days. From the looks of this, we’re not going anywhere this weekend, and you will eat well.”
“That is true - if the power stays on,” he cautioned, nodding. He felt the rear of the little car slip a tiny bit making the turn onto their street, but it quickly caught traction and kept right on chugging. It had taken them a full half hour longer to get home, but they made it safely into the driveway without any problems. The snow was still falling briskly, and there were at least four inches on the ground now. Yup, Jim thought, this one is for real. He was silently grateful that, if this had to happen, it was happening now instead of three weeks from now. He would have been a nervous wreck.
While Pam busied herself making a big pot of chili, he spent the next couple of hours with a shovel, trying to keep up with the snow in the driveway. Finally, Pam called out the door to him, “Stop, there’s no point in that, Jim. Just wait until it gets done, and then you can shovel. Come on in.” This was one time he could cheerfully admit she was right, and he parked the shovel at the back door.
They spent the evening leisurely eating on the couch, watching movies and checking every hour or so to see just how much more snow had fallen. By eleven o’clock, there was well over a foot, and the snow was accumulating at a faster rate than before. The wind had picked up as well, and they couldn’t even see as far as their mailbox out on the street. This, Jim decided, was a bona fide blizzard. They caught the local TV news and the weatherman was absolutely possessed with excitement. There were sixteen inches at the airport, he reported, and they expected that by seven am, there would be twenty four. Oh, and the snow wasn’t supposed to stop until Saturday evening.
“Whatever will we do all weekend?” Pam teased as she rubbed her foot over his lap under the brown afghan that covered them.
“Eat?” he guessed. He flipped off the TV remote with a flourish of his hand.
“Besides that.” Her aim improved with that foot.
“Sleep?”
“Besides that?” she pursed her lips, making that cute face she always made when she had something interesting in mind.
“Oh, now I believe I’m...I’m beginning to understand,” he shot back, as his body responded to her administrations. “I just need a few more clues.”
He threw off the afghan and helped her move to straddle his lap. As she leaned forward to kiss him over her pregnant belly, she spoke into his mouth, ”Here, let me give you another hint.”
By midnight they were snuggled in bed under the quilts. One last glimpse outside had confirmed that the snow was continuing to pile up as predicted. He kissed Pam goodnight and wondered just how deep it would be in the morning. There was no way they would get out of the house this weekend, because he knew their little out of the way street wasn’t exactly a priority. In fact, it probably wouldn’t get plowed until next week. But from the way this was going so far, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, he mused, as he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime in the night, he awoke with a start. His watch said 2:03. The house was quiet except for Pam, who lay snoring softly beside him. It was too quiet, he noticed, and he looked over toward the nightlight near the bathroom door only to see that it wasn’t on. The power must be out. He got up and padded barefoot into the bathroom, and yup, sure enough, the light switch didn’t do a thing. Well, they were prepared, he rationalized. He had a flashlight in the bed table, and they had an oil lamp out in the garage for tomorrow, if necessary. They might be eating sandwiches instead of leftover chili, but they had plenty of food and drink. He could fire up the old kerosene heater his dad had left for them if he really needed to. He wondered absently where the Scrabble game was.
As he headed back to bed, he stopped to grope in the dark closet and find their down comforter. They’d taken it off the bed because Pam was always hot these days, but with no heat, they would need it. He gently spread it on top of the quilts without disturbing Pam. Nothing else to be done about this tonight, he decided, so he crawled back into bed and fell asleep promptly.
It was still dark when he awoke again, and he turned over to find that Pam wasn’t in bed. She must be in the bathroom – it seemed like she had to go ten times a night these days. It was one of the things that was most disturbing to her sleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could help with. Wait, the power. Did she have the flashlight?
He sat up, but didn’t see any light at all. He reached into his nightstand drawer, found the flashlight, and turned it on as he called out, “Pam?”
There was no immediate answer.
“Pam?”
“In here, “ a reply came from the bathroom, but there was something in her tone he didn’t like.
He walked over to the bathroom door, which she’d left cracked open. He placed a hand on the door frame and said through the door, “The power’s out.” Like she couldn’t figure that out. No response. “Are you okay?” he asked.
No answer.
“Pam?!” he said louder, concern creeping into his voice.
“It’s…?” she sounded, what was it, shocked?
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Yes,” came her quiet answer, almost a whisper.
He pushed open the door to see Pam sitting on the toilet, a look of dismay on her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I think.” She took a big deep breath. “I think my water broke.”
His eyes opened wide. He hoped she couldn’t see his face in the near dark because he was sure he looked terrified.
Dude, he said to himself, you’ve got to get a grip here. “Are…are you sure?” he managed to keep his voice calm.
“No. Yes. Yes, it has to be that.”
Sweet Mother of God Jim thought, not now! His wife was not going into labor in the middle of the biggest snowstorm in recent history. Nope. That was something that only happened on bad, horrible clichéd TV shows - soap operas even.
“Jim?” She sounded lost.
Pam. The baby. The snow. The hospital. This was not good. He felt a twisting in his gut as he struggled to keep himself together. He needed to reassure her, and he managed to get something out. “It’s going to be fine, Pam. Remember the classes? It’s usually a long time before labor really gets started after the water breaks, right, so we have plenty of time to get you to the hospital after it gets light tomorrow. Well, later today, I mean.”
“Oh,” he heard her say, and he shined the flashlight on her only to see her grimace. Her hands reached to touch her belly.
“Are you having...” he didn’t need to finish the sentence.
“I think so,” she said through clenched teeth. “Yes, definitely.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured her. “We’ll start timing them and I’ll call the doctor. It's," he glanced at his watch, "five fifteen right now.” As soon as her contraction eased, he said, “Let’s get you back into bed so you can stay warm. The power’s out – no heat.”
She nodded and said calmly, “Okay,” but her hand clutched his arm desperately as he helped her to her feet. He knew she was scared. Well so, he thought, am I. This time her voice cracked a little when she added, “Jim? What are we going to do?”
“Look at me,” he said sternly, and she met his eyes with hers. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said with imagined confidence, “This is going to be okay.” She smiled and nodded a silent “yes.”
“We can deal with this,” he said, and he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
He hoped so. God, he hoped so.
.
Story Notes:
Cliche. I know. Wrote it anyway.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A snowstorm hits Scranton, and the timing couldn't be worse.
Chapter End Notes:
I know, I know. It's cliche. It's so soap opera. But there's a blizzard right this moment in PA, so suck it.
