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Disclaimer – I don’t own anything, just for funsies.





My Best Friend


Around the time that my daughter Cecelia was born, this song, “The Good Life,” by One Republic came out, and for some reason I remember it so specifically because it was kind of a theme song for Pam and myself. I sang the verse about it being a good life over and over again, I’m sure I had the words wrong, but I didn’t care. I was holding my baby girl and rocked her to sleep for the first time and it was by far the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. Cecelia is four now, and reminds us every day that she’s a super big girl, though I’d be completely fine if she stayed this age for a little bit longer. I’m not ready for her to grow up. I doubt I ever really will be.

I really could not be any happier than I have been over the last five years of marriage, eight years over all of being with Pam and we’re closing in on the best decade of my life. The good life, the one I always wanted. I’m always worried that something is going to come along and take all of this from me, but that’s in the early morning hours when the baby is up and fussing and I hold her and just… let my mind wander, maybe it’s a way of not losing it when I’m up at three in the morning with a crying baby on my shoulder, a way to remind myself that I almost never had this.

Another good reminder of how I almost never had these three women in my life has been watching the documentary. Years ago someone somewhere for some reason we still to this day can’t figure out thought it would be a fun thing to film us while we worked. Maybe they’d heard about our old boss Michael and his incessant need to be in the spotlight. We still don’t know where the crew came from, and a lot of times they got in our way, and a lot of times we had no idea they were around. They had these interviews, they called them talking heads, and back in those days, nine times out of ten, I would give them a sarcastic answer. It was fun for a while, exciting even, to be filmed. After a while, they just became a fixture in our office that we never really noticed. They left a few years ago, after almost nine years of filming us. Now that it’s finally airing on television, it’s been kind of … enlightening, if that’s the right word.

There were a lot of moments back then that I had no idea that they caught. Like one night, we were on this harbor tour boat, in the middle of January mind you, and there was this moment Pam and I had out on the deck where I remember thinking we were in private. I almost told her how I felt that night. I’m sitting there watching something I already know the outcome of, willing myself to just tell her then. Just say it, young Jim, tell her how you feel, do it!

But as it turns out, you can’t change the past, even if it is on television. I remember that night too, it was the only time I ever felt so completely helpless, standing there watching Pam agree to set an official date to marry her ex, Roy. Then the toast I gave, saying she was my best friend, but never wishing her luck. There were a few more moments like that where I felt utterly lost without her, but that was the moment as I watched her dance and kiss Roy, that’s when I started putting up a wall. It was a slow build, brick by brick, wedding detail by wedding detail adding more cement and glue to the wall – a wall that ultimately went completely up the day I moved to Stamford.

Pam refuses to watch any of it, so I’ve been watching it alone. We have this schedule, two nights a week after the kids are tucked in and read to, I’ll go watch TV in the living room and Pam goes to her art studio and does her thing. The other two nights, she watches her shows and I go for a run. This way someone is always within ear shot of the kids if they need us. I think it’s a good balance, since we spend literally ever minute of the day together. Friday night’s we take the kids to Chuck E. Cheese, and the weekends we set aside a few hours for house work and yard work and then we take the kids somewhere for the afternoon. Those few hours twice a week to do our own thing is, I think, keeping us sane.

Back to the documentary. When we first heard it was going to air, Pam was all for watching it, until she saw the first few scenes. The second she saw herself onscreen, letting her ex-fiancé tell her that she wasn’t going out for drinks with the rest of us, she got mad at herself and said, “I can’t believe how dumb I was. How could I let him do that to me?” She walked out of the living room and swore she would never watch it ever again.

Why am I still watching it twice a week for the past six months you ask? Um, well, maybe I’m a masochist. Or just plain stupid. But some days, when two kids are screaming at the top of their lungs and Pam and I are about to lose our minds if they don’t stop – those days it’s a good reminder that we’ve been through worse than the tantrums. At least that’s what I keep telling myself when Cece gets angry with her sister and forgets what sharing is and I wind up having to play the bad guy.

For the longest time, and I’m reminded by what I’ve seen on the documentary so far, I sort of already was the bad guy. I’ve gotten up to the point in that year they’re showing where I lay it all out there for Pam, told her how I felt about her – that I was in love with her. I was set to watch the next part when I saw her face on the screen. Part of being her husband and her best friend is that I know when she’s been crying. And as soon as I saw her eyes staring at the desk where I used to sit, I knew she’d been crying. Not many people could probably tell, but I can. The tops of her cheeks get all red, some people would think it’s just blush, but I know it’s from rubbing her hands over her cheeks.

That was two weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to turn it back on ever since watching that look. I had never seen it before, what I did to her when I left after I told her I loved her and she didn’t say it back instantly, even though I knew she felt it. When we first started dating, we did the apologizing thing and just let it go after – instead of arguing over it we filled in the blanks and moved on with our lives.

She said she missed me, that she was sorry and that she felt the same way I did. Really, at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. She didn’t go into detail of what it was like, and as I watched those few frames of her sad face stare off into the distance at that desk, I instantly hated myself for doing that to her. It put me right back in Stamford again, and I had to go upstairs to look at my children sleep for a few minutes to wash away the image of Pam’s heart breaking.

We don’t talk about me watching the documentary, and I think she has a point – why relive something like that when we went through it already. We have two kids and a mortgage, what more proof do we need that we made it.

But for some unknown reason tonight, I just felt like I wanted to continue watching that part of my life, that part of her life. I don’t need proof that she loves me with every ounce of herself. I know all of that, she proves it day in and day out with little glances in my direction, little taps on my shoulder as she walks by my desk, the way we share our lunch together in the break room and she rubs her shoe against mine so subtly, just enough for me to feel it. We take walks at work sometimes (yes, that’s a euphemism for something else), and we just… I know that whatever we went through was worth it to have this closeness that we have now.

Yet here I am, sitting in my living room, the kids asleep up in their rooms. Pam is in her studio painting, and the remote control is in my hand, moving to the TiVo screen and selecting the part of the documentary where I left off.

The longer I stare at the screen, Pam’s sad frown paused up there, the more I feel … almost, I don’t know. It’s some feeling between wanting to just shut this thing off and remove it from the record list, and wanting to reach into the television and tell her to pick up the phone and call me.

All we needed back then was honesty. The only thing standing between us being honest was this fear, not of rejection, but of a different truth – a possibility that maybe, just maybe the other person really did move on at that point.

I press play, and I’m no longer interested in seeing moments I missed while I was in Stamford unless they include Pam in some way. I don’t care if someone would think it’s funny when Michael outs Oscar – Pam already told me all about that. And about the bird funeral and about Dwight trying to get Michael fired and all of the other little funny stories she filled me in on during our first few dates. Ever since then, we don’t really talk about work – yeah, a little here and there, but ever since she filled in the gap of the three months I was gone, we found we have so many other topics of conversation.

That there’s still so much left to say after being with her for this long, I think it’s a good sign. It’s not just all about the kids and our families. We talk about stupid things, nothing that really matters but makes us laugh like loons. Anyone else who heard us would think we were nuts.

I’m fast forwarding slowly, keeping my eye out for all things Pam, moving on to each show as they finish, and the next thing that catches my attention is that phone call. I can’t believe they caught all that on camera. I remember that I specifically waited until after hours to call Kevin about what teams he wanted to pick for fantasy football. Watching it play out on the screen now, seeing her face fall when I tell her that, she knew right there that I didn’t want to talk to her.

And now she’s smiling because we’re joking, and I just want to go inside and … I don’t know, bake a cake or … something. Because I know what comes after this.

I lean forward, press my elbow into my leg as I see, finally – we never talked about this phone call – she wasn’t cutting me off.

I have my finger on the power button, I’ve seen enough for tonight. But instead of shutting it off, I move on to the next show on the list and fast forward through this one too. I immediately cringe and shake my head, hoping my parents aren’t watching this. I remember this day – the day I got drunk at work after hours and had Karen drive me home. And every time Pam’s on the screen, she’s checking her phone… and there goes mine in the next scene, buzzing as I’m passed out on my desk.

My rationale back then for not returning the text? She cut me off when we were talking on the phone. So I got mad at her. Again.

I am a gigantic ass. Well, not anymore. I was though, back then. I hope I’m not an ass anymore. Sometimes … I guess I can be. When I refuse to talk to her father because of his complete lack of acknowledgment of his daughter and grandkids - there’s no excuse for that and I don’t hide how I feel from Pam anymore, no matter how much she scowls and sighs at me.

I hear Pam walking upstairs. I know she knows what I’m watching, and that’s why she’s not coming inside to get me. I think I’ll go join her for now. I’ve seen enough of this and it’s making my arms need to feel her inside of them. I turn off the television and make sure the doors and windows are closed properly and walk up to our bedroom. I take my wife in my arms and kiss her as I slide the bedroom door closed.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself, sweetie,” she says, running her hand over my back.

“Me either,” I say with a shrug. I really want her to watch it with me though, so we can have a conversation about these things we never talked about. I just breathe out and kiss her neck.

“Would it help if I watched it with you,” she asks, once again reading my mind.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding, pressing another kiss to her cheek.

“Okay,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. “We can watch the rest tomorrow. But then that’s it, no more.”

I nod and hold onto her for a few minutes before I kiss her forehead and we get into bed. I slide up right next to her and pull her close to me, like I’m afraid that whatever I just saw is going to come back and haunt me and she’s the only one that can protect me from it.

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Chapter End Notes:
This will be two - three chapters tops. I had another idea but this one won out. Thank you Klutzy Girl!!

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