“Stay closer to the ball on the dribble, Ava… Chloe, eyes up… Ashtynn, eyes down, stop staring at clouds… good hustle Emmy… pass the ball, Cece… Jordan, not so far back in the goal…”
It was funny how things turned out. Despite having a basketball playing father (at 40, Jim was long past his high school glory days on the court, but he could still run a good game) and a high school volleyball star for a mother, Cece Halpert had found her athletic prowess on the soccer field.
And despite not being able to actually play soccer to save his life, Jim found that he was actually quite adept at coaching, proving the old saying “those who can’t do, teach” does actually hold some merit.
At least, that’s what he liked to tell his wife, who would invariably tell him to “suck it” so long as the children weren’t around (if they were, he was told to “hush it”). And he would remind her that she wasn’t a teacher, exactly, she was a guidance counselor. Then he would, at some point after the kids were asleep, enthusiastically follow her instructions and then some, proving that the myth about the jar of marbles and sex in the first year of marriage versus subsequent years was, indeed, a myth.
At least, as far as Jim and Pam were concerned.
Despite a nine-year-old, three-year-old twins, a basement that flooded in storms and aging parents, Mr. and Mrs. Halpert were keeping the romance very much alive.
Now that they were no longer working together, the time they did get alone was even more valuable.
The efforts by Sabre had been noble, but not enough, and Dunder Mifflin had shut down two years earlier. Pam was now the sophomore guidance counselor at West Scranton High School. Jim was still in office supplies, as sales director of a company called Jay’s Business Systems. He liked the non-corporate atmosphere and had discovered that he was actually quite a good manager, when he wasn’t managing people who still saw him as the office slacker.
The twins were thriving. Nattie was the superior tricyclist and bather. Zander had to be coaxed, sometimes forced, into the bath. He was better at dressing himself and could stack blocks seven high to Nattie’s four. Zander preferred Daddy’s bedtime story reading to Mommy’s, Nattie had the opposite opinion, and they both agreed that the best story reader was Cece.
The resident queen of “doing all the voices” (she’d inherited her father’s talent for mimicry and then some) was strong in social studies, needed some improvement on her bimonthly book reports, and was, much to her parents’ pride and horror, one of only 11 fourth graders at John Marshall Elementary to not have her own cell phone.
She’d played Lucy in “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown,” was an absolutely terrible violinist, showed some talent with a camera but little with a paintbrush, and was the star halfback of the Scranton Sunflowers.
At least, that’s what one Coach Halpert secretly thought.
Practice time was over. The parents who didn’t watch (and sometimes backseat coach) had arrived to collect their daughters.
Jim blew his whistle and the girls ran in off the field, chattering away. He gathered them up quickly for a little “go team” and then sent everyone off.
“Way to steal the ball from Ashtynn,” he grinned, tugging Cece’s ponytail as she helped him collect water cups. “That was a good move.”
“Thanks, Coach!” She grinned back brightly.
Jim loaded her and the equipment into the minivan and started toward home.
“You have a lot of homework tonight?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Ten math problems and I have to read a chapter of “Five Little Peppers." But I did the math during recess.”
“Why didn’t you want to play?” Jim asked.
Cece shrugged. “It was right after class,” she said. “I remember how to do division better right after class. So I did. Ms. Melendy checked my answers. She said I got them all right, except two.”
“Good girl,” Jim smiled.
He turned on to Washington Ave., driving by Alfredo’s Pizza Café.
“Dad, can we get pizza for dinner?” Cece piped up suddenly.
Jim did a double take at the question. Pizza for dinner sounded good.
But since when was he “Dad” instead of “Daddy?”
It was a little heartbreaking, actually.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter is structured a bit differently, in that it's more narrative than the others thus far. Also, this might be the most number of times I've used the word "despite" in one chapter.
Chapter End Notes:
Hope y'all enjoyed it. I wanted to give a bit of insight into the bigger picture of the Halperts, even though the crux of the story is little moments. There was also a lot of Scranton research done for this one, in the hopes of some accuracy (the schools, streets and companies are real).
Oh, Schrute bucks to anyone who recognizes the name of Cece's math teacher.
Oh, Schrute bucks to anyone who recognizes the name of Cece's math teacher.
