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Author's Chapter Notes:
The Halperts arrive.

The Halperts arrived in a tumble around dinnertime, clearly jet-lagged beyond belief but equally clearly delighted to see their son, even if there were tears in their eyes when they saw him bedridden in the hospital with a wheelchair beside their bed. Pam was beginning to think that “a tumble” might be the collective noun for Halperts: none of them ever seemed to stay quite still, like they were living proofs of Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle: once you knew where they were, you could never be quite sure if they were moving, and once you knew that, you didn’t know where they were anymore. Mrs. Halpert was somehow simultaneously hugging Jim, pulling a seat out by Larissa’s side, and helping her husband into a chair; Mr. Halpert was slouching into the room, taking his wife and daughter’s bags, and shaking his son’s hand; Larissa was sitting down, smiling beatifically at her family, and hugging Pam all at once. Only Jim was in stasis, his hand wrapped hard around hers like a promise that he wouldn’t go anywhere—that she was safe with him.

 

That safety was immediately breached, however, once Mr. and Mrs. Halpert recovered from their son’s condition and their own arrival enough to fully notice the short, smiling woman standing by Jim’s side with Larissa’s arm around her. It was obvious that Larissa had done some work preparing them for the reality of the situation, but it was also clear that they had not fully internalized it yet. Which was understandable, given that they’d apparently spent two to three of the last six days on planes. Once they did, they were unstoppable—differently than her own mother, but no more resistible, like an ocean wave instead of a speeding locomotive.

 

“Oh dear, where are my manners! Betsy Halpert, Jim’s mom. And you must be Pam!” Pam found Larissa’s arm suddenly thrown off and two others wrapped around her. “We’ve been so looking forward to meeting you! After all these years! Let me look at you.” Suddenly the arms were simply hands, holding her at arms’ length, while a smiling woman not much taller than Pam scrutinized her face and a tall man who looked like a weathered, bearded, slightly fatter version of Jim loomed behind her, hands in his pockets in a familiar gesture.

 

“Now Betsy, let the girl have her space.” The tall man’s looming transformed into action as he pulled his hands out of his pockets: one gently placed on his wife’s arm, the other reaching out to grasp Pam’s hand (the one not holding Jim’s) in an unsurprisingly hearty handshake. “Gerald Halpert. Gerry to my friends, so I suppose you oughtta call me Gerry after what you’ve done for our Jim.”

 

“I don’t know, Dad,” chimed in Larissa from where she still stood next to Pam. “I think she might need an upgrade past fri…ow.” Pam looked around to see who had kicked Larissa, only to realize it was her. She glared at her friend, who only stuck her tongue out in response.

 

“It’s good to see someone can make Larissa stop talking,” said Betsy, dispelling any fear Pam might have had that starting off their acquaintance by (subconsciously) kicking her daughter might have been a problem. “God knows Jim’s tried for years, and Gerry and I gave up before she was six.”

 

“By which you mean you dumped the problem on me.” Jim grinned, and mimicked his mother. “Jimmy, keep an eye on your sister.” His voice shifted down into a parody of his father. “Jimmy, you’re on Larissa duty tonight, see you at nine.” He returned to his own register. “Not that I minded, of course, but you can see why I needed some reinforcements.”

 

She squeezed his hand, but before she could respond Larissa’s arm was back around her shoulders. “That’s right you did.” Larissa and Pam exchanged a smile. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—” Pam stuck her tongue out and they both giggled before Larissa continued, “—Pam’s family to me, no matter what Jim says, so…”

 

“Hey!” Jim defended himself. “I never said she wasn’t family.” He glanced up at Pam. “But I think you might be getting ahead of yourself, L.”

 

“Please.” Larissa rolled her eyes. “I had to sit with you two lovebirds over the last two days, the least I get to do is call you out on it. Anyway, I think she should call Dad....”

 

“Gerry is fine.” Pam interrupted Larissa firmly. “Assuming it is with you, Mr. Halpert?”

 

Gerry laughed, a deeper, fuller version of Jim’s own laugh that she knew so well. “Gerry is fine. Betsy, I think this girl knows how to deal with our children better than we do.”

 

Betsy smiled up at him. “I would certainly hope so.” She turned to Pam. “Given what our son and now our daughter have had to say about you, I don’t think I’m stepping out of line here to tell you that we’re delighted you’re here, and that I take no responsibility for anything stupid either of them may have said or done. That was all their father.” Her eyes twinkled. “Now the smart things, those are me.”

 

Gerry shrugged. “I wish I could say she was wrong, but…”

 

Pam grinned at them both while all four Halperts laughed. She liked this family. She squeezed Jim’s hand and wrapped her other arm around Larissa. It was really nice to feel like she belonged. She’d never quite felt that way with the Andersons. Oh, they liked her—even loved her—but just like their son they never really understood her. They had certain expectations of a daughter-in-law. Pam was very good at fulfilling those expectations, and so she fit in among the Andersons well, but not naturally. With the Halperts she felt…free. Like she could be herself—kick Larissa’s shins, stick out her tongue, giggle freely—and no one would judge her for it. Or they would judge her, but in that approving way that says “yes. Be yourself. That’s all we want.” It was, she was quickly finding, addictive.

 

Chapter End Notes:
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