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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.
Author’s note – Sorry for any confusion I caused. I had another story in mind initially, and then this story sort of morphed out of that one, so I’m going with this one for now. I may revisit that other one once I’m done with this idea.
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If he could muster the energy to even consider why he does the things he does, his line of questioning would be unending. Why had he hesitated, instead of charging through the park after her as she pushed a stroller?
A stroller. A baby in a stroller. She has a baby. How did this all happen?
He still can’t wrap his head around any of it. He still can not for the life of him figure out why he is standing there, his feet planted on dirt, his legs surrounding his bicycle, his hands tight around the handle bars.
His eyes keep losing her as his mind drifts, ignoring the onlookers, parents and children staring at him as he stands there, his eyelids stretching and his forehead creasing.
It has been three years, he tells himself. Three years since he walked away from her and this town. Three years since he took a job he was never meant to have. Why would seeing her for a split minute before she took off do this to him – make his heart race and pound in his ears.
He finds her again, his eyes like magnets to the back of her head. He can not be sure what propels him forward, what makes him do something this crazy – glutton for punishment, some sort of instability of his mind. He can’t expect her to ever want to talk to him again, no matter how many times they swore they would always be friends.
There was always some bitterness underlying though, the way they would say the word friends. He knows she wanted more. He went against every single instinct he ever had and left.
Twice.
How could he expect her to stay and chat?
He has the option of turning toward his new apartment, going about his business and maybe being an active job seeker for once. He could have gotten on with his life, the way she had. Just walk away. Again. Just let her be, let things go the way they were supposed to – she goes her way, he goes his.
But he is absolutely mesmerized by her, by the child he caught a glimpse of, he can not do anything else but follow close behind her, wait for her to go inside so he can catch his breath.
He walks up the path to her door, his sneakers tapping the pavement, sweat dripping from his forehead.
At a step before her door, he wishes he had gone home, showered, made himself more presentable.
And as she stands there, hand on her hip, an expressionless face and a toddler gripping her leg, he thinks maybe he should have stopped for flowers, or some other sort of peace offering.
Like maybe cake or ice cream, or a new car.
She stares at him, her eyebrows raised and her lips curled into a pucker.
“Hi,” he says, breathless and embarrassed. “I’m, um, not really sure …” he trails off, looks down, his eyes meeting the bright blue eyes of the toddler. He kneels down to child eye level. “Hi, what’s your name?”
“Jack.”
“Hi, Jack. I’m Jim.”
He extends his hand toward Jack. The child recoils, hiding himself behind Pam, his small head peeking over the side of her leg.
“He’s not super great with strangers,” she says evenly.
“Oh, yeah, I guess, I’m one of those,” he says sheepishly.
“To him yeah. You are.”
“Right. How,” he stammers, “how have you been?”
She grins, reaches for Jack, lifting him into her arms, and says, “I’m good, thanks.”
“Yeah, good. Good,” he says awkwardly. “Me too.”
“I didn’t ask you,” she smirks.
“Oh, I know, I just, figured,” he pauses and then mumbles, “I’d say it.”
“Well, thanks for stopping by, Jim.”
“I know you’re mad, and I can’t blame you. I’ve been mad at myself for years.”
She rolls her eyes, a smirk still on her lips. “Yeah, was that before or after you started,” she pauses, puts Jack back on the floor, waits for him to scamper away before she whispers, “sleeping with every girl in the tri-state area?”
His heart sinks, reminds him of the way he felt when his parent’s found those magazines under his bed. “I guess that news gets around fast. But it wasn’t like that, Pam. I swear.”
“It doesn’t matter, really. You don’t owe me any explanation. I mean, when I first heard about it from Kelly, I was a little surprised. But then I looked back on who you used to date, and figured that was what it was.”
He shifts his feet, hates that he’s caught off guard, hates even more that he can’t come up with a reasonable explanation to his previous actions. “Can I maybe come in?”
She stares at him for a long moment, he expects her to shake her head, to tell him to leave, shove him out the door and back out of her life.
When she steps to the side, her arm sweeps in front of her allowing his entrance, he breathes easier. Just a little bit.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
“Eh,” she shrugs. “I don’t think it matters, really.”
“Oh,” he says.
“Yeah, I mean, we worked together, we were work friends. Yeah, we got together sometimes on the weekends, but that’s all it was. Work friends,” she says, in a soft tone that betrays her words.
“That’s not all it was,” he defends adamantly.
She shrugs, draws her attention to Jack as he toddles toward her. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jim.”
“Maybe,” he says, his sinuses clogging, “maybe we can catch up before we just say things don’t matter anymore.”
“What should we catch up on?”
“Well,” he points toward Jack, kneeling down to his level once again. “Where did this little guy come from?”
She kneels on the other side of Jack, running the palm of her hand over his head. “He’s sort of a wanderer.”
“Hmm?” he hums, tilts his head to the side.
“His,” she pauses, directs her attention to the baby. “Jack, do you want to show Jim your favorite toy?”
“Okay,” Jack nods excitedly and bounds from the room.
They both stand, facing one another. He wants to make a joke about her mismatched socks. He thinks now would not be a good time.
“So, he’s a wanderer?”
“Yeah, I try to use words he doesn’t understand yet. He’s only one and a half.”
“He’s really cute.”
“Thanks. I had nothing to do with it, but thanks.”
“So, he’s not yours?”
“I’m hoping one day he will be. I won’t bore you with the details. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
He shakes his head, knows that he shouldn’t point to the fact that he has nothing to do at all. He knows the reaction won’t be a pleasant one from her. “I want to catch up, like I said.”
“Why now?”
“Why not now?”
“Look, Jim, I just,” she pauses. “I have a lot going on right now.”
“And you don’t want me involved. I get it.”
“I know you’re only in Scranton until something better comes along. Again.”
“I wasn’t planning on leaving. I’m looking for a job here.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure if you see something in, like, Philly, or somewhere, you won’t take it.”
“What makes you say,” he stops, watches her knowingly glare at him, her head tilted to the side. “I guess my track record says that.”
She nods, shrugs as Jack runs back into the living room, a big red bear in his hand.
“This is Phil,” Jack says, holding the doll up over his head.
“Wow,” Jim laughs, a smile forms. “He’s almost as big as you.”
“I’m a big boy. Mommy, can I have juice?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
“He calls you mommy?”
“I’ve had him since he’s six months,” she says, walking toward the kitchen as Jack sits with his toys.
“What happened?”
She rolls her eyes, clears her throat. “I’m his Godmother. His mom was in a bad car accident when Jack was six months. She had a heart attack while she was driving. She was in and out of the hospital for almost a year actually, before she had a massive heart attack and passed away,” she says quietly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. She clears her throat and continues. “When she was between her first set of hospital visits, she asked me if I could look after him, unofficially, because his father was sort of out of the picture back then. Four months ago he decided he wanted to be a father to Jack.”
She stops speaking as Jack walks into the kitchen, happily asking, “Jim, play trains with me?”
“Sure,” he responds without thinking, “I’d love to, buddy. You go set it up and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” Jack nods, his attention focuses back to Pam. “Wow, that’s. I’m sorry, that really sucks.”
“Yeah,” she agrees quietly. “So, his dad wants him now, and I’m trying to fight a losing battle to keep him here and not uproot his life for someone who Jack never met before.”
“I’m so sorry, Pam,” Jim says, holding his hand on her shoulder.
She winces, shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I mean, I really don’t want pity.”
“It’s not pity. Is there anything I can do?” he asks.
“No. Come on, really, Jim. Don’t worry about us. We’ll make it through, whatever way this thing goes.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that this isn’t something you need to concern yourself with,” she shakes her head, moves toward the living room and hands Jack his cup. “So, I heard you got fired. Sorry about that.”
“Yeah,” he says, shuffling his feet. “It’s for the best. Where are you working now?”
“They’re not hiring,” she says bluntly.
He’d like to think he would have laughed at that, had the temperature in the room not been set to subzero. “You know me so well,” he tries to joke.
“I’m working in the art department at the University of Scranton right now. I think eventually, once this whole situation with Jack settles, I’ll finish getting my teaching degree.”
“That’s great,” he smiles genuinely, stopping himself from pulling her into a hug.
By the look that crosses her face as she thanks him, he thinks she wants him to.
“I hope everything works out with Jack,” he says, his eyes fixed on the toddler. “He looks like a good kid.”
“He is.”
“Jim, play,” Jack says, waddling over toward Jim.
Pam takes Jack’s hand in hers. “Sweetie, I think Mister Jim needs to go, okay? Can you say goodbye?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jim stammers, caught off guard. “I’m sorry I have to go, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Jack says, going back to his toys.
“It was really good to see you, Pam,” he says, inching toward the door.
“Yeah, you too. Good luck with everything,” she says, her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands fussing with her hair.
“Maybe we can go grab coffee tomorrow?”
“I, um,” she fidgets on her feet. “I have plans tomorrow with this guy that I’m seeing. But yeah, maybe we can do that before you leave town again.”
“Oh, y-you’re seeing someone?” he stammers.
She nods, purses her lips and holds the door opened, “Bye, Jim.”
His choice of responses falls flat as the door clicks behind him. He stands at her doorstep, tries to stop the shaking in his legs and the spinning in his head. He wants to turn around and tell her he’s not planning on leaving Scranton this time.
Instead, he gets on his bicycle and rides the short distance back to his apartment.
He wonders if she felt this way. If she felt the bone crushing loss when he came back from Stamford and told her he was seeing someone. He wonders if she said it to him to see his reaction, the same way he had done it to her all those years ago.
He sits in front of his laptop, looks half heartedly at the job listings, sends his resume out to a few companies in Scranton and in Philly without really thinking before he realizes what he’s just done.
He knows they’ve been playing this game for eight years. This cat and mouse, he did this she did that, I said this you said that back and forth volley ball game.
He showers before the board of health comes after him, finds his keys and gets into his car.
The game has to end soon, whether she likes it or not, he vows silently.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali