“Have you seen the new math teacher? Talk about a hunk.”
“No! It’s such a drag, I’m stuck with tightass Ms. Martin for math, eugh.”
“Well, he’s definitely the best looking teacher at West Scranton. Not like we had a lot to look at to begin with. I mean, Coach Anderson can be pretty dreamy, but…”
“Yeah. What’s the new teacher’s name again?”
“Mr. H-something. Hopper? No...Halpert! Mr. Halpert.” From her position on the opposite side of the bookshelf that the two young women were standing in front of, West Scranton High School librarian Pam Beesly heard a long, drawn-out sigh. “Kelly Halpert...I like it.”
“Yeah right, Kel.”
“I can dream, can’t I? The guys--boys--in our year are so childish. I need a man. And since the only other good looking teacher is engaged, my options are limited.”
“Coach Anderson is engaged? To who?”
The voice that Pam recognized as belonging to junior Kelly Kapoor lowered to a whisper. “You didn’t know? The librarian!” There was a pause and Pam imagined Kelly looking around furtively. “How she managed that, I don’t know.” Pam’s cheeks flushed in indignation and she had half a mind to step around the end of the shelf and defend herself to Kelly. She didn’t, though. She’d never been good at confrontation. Instead she just pushed her glasses up her nose a little angrily and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her French twist behind her ear.
“We better go, don’t you think? Our free period is almost up.” That voice belonged to Kelly’s ever-present sidekick, Erin Hannon. Pam thought she was sweet, mainly because Erin reminded her a little bit of herself. She would have never talked poorly about one of her teachers in high school (nor the librarian, for that matter) and she was glad to hear that Erin didn’t either. It made her feel validated somewhat, a way that she didn’t feel very often.
Pam waited until she heard the creaking hinges of the library doors slow to a stop before she walked back to the circulation desk, Kelly’s words ringing in her ears. To be honest, she’d had the same thought that Miss Kapoor had a little bit crassly voiced: how did she manage that? Only, the context was likely very different from the way that Kelly had meant it. She never wondered how she’d managed to be so lucky as to land a man like Roy Anderson, but more often how she’d managed to settle into a relationship so stagnant that she was well into an engagement with no end in sight. Not that she didn’t love Roy--she did, she had for over ten years--but she was well past ready for the next step and it seemed like he never would be.
But the first day of a new school year was not the time or the place to wrestle with that thought. Not when she was already so busy, what with having to inspect and reshelve all the books used during summer school as well as catalogue and shelve the newest textbooks. Worrying about her apparently permanent status as ‘the future Mrs. Anderson’ and whether or not it was worth it to start another argument about it so soon after the most recent one could wait. As could everything else that threatened to distract her from the great piles of books waiting to be sorted at the circulation desk: the everpresent desire to spend the day with her sketchbook, the increasingly strange and childish behavior of the principal Mr. Scott, her mild curiosity about the new math teacher. She just had too much to do.
Pam worked diligently until just before lunch, when she finally gave up the charade of being wholly invested in her job. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, because she did. Parts of it. The library stayed quiet, generally, and she appreciated that because it gave her ample time to peruse the available art books and try her hand at the techniques within. There was an absolutely enormous illustrated dictionary on a podium just inside the doors, and she enjoyed flipping through the pages to find an interesting entry to write on the library’s chalkboard as the ‘word of the day.’ Her work was relatively simple albeit uninteresting, but it was serviceable. She was happy, mostly. Sure, she’d love to be pursuing something that she felt more passionately about, but overall she couldn’t complain. Or at least, she knew that there were many who would love to be in her shoes but had had the opportunity stolen from them, so she didn’t complain. Even when she really, really felt like it.
With a sigh that rivaled that of Kelly Kapoor’s, Pam decided that she’d be more likely to find her vigor for shelving and categorizing renewed after she ate lunch. After plucking a tried and true favorite book from one of the shelves (a romance reminiscent of Pride and Prejudice that she loved because the profession of undying fidelity that took place on a vine covered terrace always made her swoon) she spread her lunch out at the circulation desk like she always did, having found the teacher’s lounge a little too loud and smoke filled for her taste during her first year at West Scranton. She was halfway through the second chapter--where the two lovers meet for the first time--and absently tearing the crust from her peanut butter and jelly when she heard the double doors swing open.
Pam glanced up from her book to find a man she’d never seen before approaching the circulation desk. He was tall, almost as tall as Roy, but not quite as bulky. It didn’t escape Pam that he was still built rather solidly; the brown suit he was wearing was was tailored expertly and he filled it out nicely. She wasn’t too fond of the shirt he was wearing with it, with it’s weird geometric design, but it fit him well. He smiled at her as he crossed the distance from the doorway to the desk and it struck Pam as one of the more charming smiles she’d seen. Despite the full beard surrounding it (sprinkled with a dash of salt and pepper, she noticed), she could see it’s slight crookedness and that way that it reached all the way up to his eyes. Green eyes, she could see now, since he was at the desk and leaning against it with his hands dangling over the edge like he belonged there.
“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and friendly. “I’m new here.”
“Hi,” she replied. “Um, welcome.”
His smile widened--definitely charming, but she had an idea that he didn’t even know it--and she smiled back, suddenly feeling a little bit shy. “My name is Jim Halpert, the new junior and senior level math teacher.” He held out his hand and Pam reached forward to shake it. His grip was warm and firm; comforting. It was no wonder Kelly Kapoor had thought he was a hunk, because he absolutely was.
Pam blushed at the thought that had come unbidden to her brain. She shook her head slightly and tried to banish it away. It stubbornly retreated to a small dark corner of her mind but refused to leave completely, but that would have to do. “Oh, I’m the librarian. Um, obviously.” She blushed deeper and he chuckled softly. It was disarming. “My name is Pam Beesly.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beesly.”
“Just miss, I’m not married.” She held up her left hand and flashed her small engagement ring, more of a reminder to herself than anything. “Not yet, at least.” She was almost able to keep the note of bitterness out of her voice, the one that always seemed to creep in when she talked about her engagement. Almost.
“Ah, I see. Well, nice to meet you then, Miss Beesly.” His voice was soft and Pam found herself being lulled into a sense of safety and security because of it. Maybe that’s why it took her another few seconds to realize that she was still holding his hand.
Clearing her throat, she jerked her hand out of his grasp. “How can I help you, Mr. Halpert?”
“Jim is fine.”
“Oh. Well, then, how can I help you...Jim?” His entire face was so expressive--eyes, mouth, eyebrows--and she tried to take in the range of emotions that flew across his it when she said his name. Or at least, she thought that there’d been something change in the way he looked, but she was likely overthinking things.
“I’m missing a few textbooks. The principal, Mr. Scott? He told me I could find extras in the library.”
“Oh, yes! I have them. Give me just a minute, I just need to finish copying their identification numbers onto the master list. Are you--do you have time?”
“Absolutely I do. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Pam cleared the remains of her lunch and gathered the mathematics textbooks, as well as the book that contained the ID numbers of every textbook within the school. As she started the tedious process of recording the numbers, she realized that the initially hideous pattern of his shirt had started to grow on her.
She’d gotten a few of the numbers transcribed before he spoke again. “I’m sorry I interrupted your lunch. I would have come by during my free period if I’d known.”
“It’s okay. I needed a little push to get back to work, anyway. But, um, don’t tell Mr. Scott that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. Can I ask you a question about him?” Pam nodded, waiting. “Is he...well, is that his, ah, usual temperment?”
Pam giggled. She didn’t see it, but Jim smiled when he heard it, just a brief little quirk of the corners of his mouth. “Oh, um, well...yes. Actually, it’s gotten a little bit worse. Don’t repeat this, but I think there’s something going on with him and the superintendent Jan.” She realized too late that she shouldn’t be spreading gossip, but for whatever reason she trusted Mr. Halpert--Jim-- immediately and implicitly.
Jim’s eyebrows shot so high that they threatened to become part of his hairstyle. “Wow. I see. I guess that explains his complete lack of...professionalism?” Pam giggled again, this time catching Jim’s smile and the way it made his ears--a little bit on the big side, but nice--raise up a good three-quarters of an inch.
“I guess he’s feeling pretty secure in his job. And I have to admit, he gets results, even if his methods are unorthodox.”
“Very diplomatic, Miss Beesly.”
“If I’m calling you Jim, you can call me Pam.”
“Alright then, Pam. I have another question for you.” The way his voice wrapped around her name made her feel a little warm, and she realized that she was actually starting to quite like the pattern of his shirt. She chastised herself for her reaction and reminded herself that she was spoken for, even if it often seemed as though her fiancé had forgotten that he was her fiancé. Either way, she schooled her expression into what she hoped was indifference and looked up at Jim.
“Yes?”
His eyebrows knit together and for the first time since he walked through the doors, he seemed a little unsure of himself. Pam felt her face soften immediately, without her even intending for it to. He looked relieved, and Pam felt the same. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were eating your lunch in here. Would you mind if I joined you?”
“Oh! Um--”
“It’s just that the teacher’s lounge is pretty rowdy. I like the atmosphere in here. I won’t bother you, just wanted a quiet place to eat. Maybe escape Mr. Scott and that teacher that seems to always follow him around. The 4-H club sponsor, what’s his name?”
“You mean Mr. Schrute. Dwight is his first name. In my three years at West Scranton, they’ve never set foot into the library unless they absolutely had to, so you’d be safe in here.”
Jim smiled at her. She was hit with the realization that his shirt had really grown on her--she actually liked it now. “That sounds great.” He picked up the stack of textbooks she’d completed indexing and took a step away from the desk. “See you tomorrow then?”
Pam nodded, not wanting him to go but already looking forward to the next day. “Sure. See you tomorrow.
“Great. Bye Ms...Pam. Beesly.” He grinned at her rakishly. “Bye, Beesly.”
“Bye, Jim.”
After he left, Pam buckled down and finished the rest of her work. It didn’t take long, and she found herself with the afternoon stretched out ahead of her without anything to fill it. She pulled out the sketchbook that she kept in the bottom drawer of the circulation desk and flipped to a clean page, but her mind was void of inspiration. The pad of paper went back into the drawer and she went to flip through the illustrated dictionary in search for tomorrow’s word of the day.
It was a random coincidence, unlikely though it seemed, that her eyes fell onto a certain word in the T’s. Smiling in spite of herself, she erased the welcome message on the blackboard and replaced it with the word of the day for Tuesday September 3, 1963--the second day of a new school year.
TESSELLATION (noun): an arrangement of shapes closely fitted together, especially of polygons in a repeated pattern without gaps or overlapping.
When Roy came by the library at the end of the day so that he could drive them home, he found her with her head bent over the surface of the desk, sketchpad in front of her. When he asked what she was working on with such a concentrated effort (really what he said was “what’s keeping you so busy that you aren’t ready to leave yet?”), she hesitantly showed him: a pattern of rectangles, colored and shaded so as to look three dimensional, almost filling the page.
“Huh. It’s...different.”
Pam brushed her fingers across the paper. “I know. I like it.”
