Pam’s eyes snapped open, as they did every morning, five seconds before her alarm clock went off. Today was a new day. OK, it was the same day, it was always the same day, she could tell because she was in the bed she shared with Roy and not, as she’d been last night, sitting in a hotel room near Lake Wallenpaupack, with a notebook full of ideas of how to deal with Roy sitting defiantly beside her as she fell asleep. She had realized, late last night, that buying a hotel room was functionally a victimless crime—or maybe it would be better to say, a free expense. She paid for the room on her credit card (somehow she and Roy had never gotten around to joining their finances, which she was beginning to both be grateful of and to realize might have been a sign of later lacks of commitment to come). The charge (presumably) reset like everything else. She got a bed that wasn’t filled with Roy, all at no actual expense to her.

Of course, no matter how empty of Roy the bed she fell asleep in might be, the bed she woke up in was half-full of him. She had decided, in a fit of pique last night, to…sidestep the Roy question today. She would figure out something to do with him one way or another, and if all else failed she would just put up with his angry, sulking figure on the cruise. She didn’t have to kowtow to his wishes or his frustrations. But today, she was going to ignore him and move onto the other parts of her plan for the day: improving everyone else’s life, and making sure she was right about Jim. Not that she had any worry that she wasn’t right about her feelings for Jim: admitting to herself that she was in love with Jim was like dropping two successive long blue pieces down a prepared slot in Tetris, in that it made everything else so much simpler afterwards and you couldn’t really go back. She was calmer; more settled; clearer about her own wishes and desires than she ever had been, except maybe when she’d been a seven-year-old loudly insisting to everyone she met (stranger, friend, or family) that she was going to be a dog doctor (the term “veterinarian” having proven difficult for her youthful tongue). The main difference between herself now and at seven years old (besides the ability to pronounce and even spell “veterinarian”) was that her present self had actually weighed her plan for the future against other options and decided on it, as opposed to getting whisked away by the impression of the smiling figure in white who had made Mr. Barksdale feel all better. If anything, she had been whatever the opposite of whisked away was by Jim; her regard for him had slowly crept up on her like a sunrise, not flashed down like lightning, and as with the sunrise she did not anticipate any immediate return to the prior condition.

She frowned at her own similes. It was probably good that her medium of choice was paint, not words. She might be an artist, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t a poet. Not that that mattered. She was decided on Jim; that was what mattered. So she was going to spend today making sure that he was just as decided on her. She was pretty sure of it from what she’d pieced together across the various cruises: his mutterings about “saving the receptionist” instead of the customer; his strange break-up with Katy; that conversation with Michael most of all. But it was time for her to take some direct action. Not to cheat on Roy; for all his sins, he didn’t deserve that. Even if she had broken up with him so many times she was losing count, the resets meant that she wasn’t free until she did it again in whatever cycle it was she did so. Just some light prodding to make sure she was on the right track. After all, it would be awful in more ways than one if she was actually supposed to help him get with Katy and she screwed up her chances to get out of this mess by misunderstanding Jim’s mind.

The pre-work routine went about as usual, and she and Roy pulled into the office parking lot right on time—which was to say, about five minutes late as usual for today. She rushed upstairs and decided to buy the pencil cup again. After all, that had been what she’d chosen to start this whole mess, which meant it was the most default-Pam choice, and if she was right about things Jim liked default-Pam. She certainly hoped so; even though she was evolving, she still wanted to be herself, and she wanted to be with someone (hopefully Jim! Definitely not Roy!) who liked her that way.

Like clockwork, Jim lingered at her desk while they sent Stanley in to talk to Michael, and she decided to make her first move.

“Hey, Jim?”

“Yeah?” He paused, jellybean in hand.

“Who are you planning to invite along on the cruise?”

He looked at her oddly and, for the first time in their acquaintance that she could remember, put the jellybean back down.

“What cruise?”

Shit. Stanley hadn’t told them it was a cruise yet. “The cruise that I’m betting Michael is sending us on.”

“Why do you think it’s a cruise?” He picked up another bean and she slapped at his hand playfully. “What?”

“I see what you did there, mister. You take that original jellybean back or so help me…”

He reached back in with a smirk. “You should know I’m a one-jellybean-man.”

“Didn’t look that way to me,” she sniffed.

His smirk shifted into a more serious look, eyes intent, brows slightly pursed, and he settled his hands on both sides of the bowl. “Maybe that first jellybean was attached to the bowl. Maybe it wanted to be right where it was. Maybe by taking it, I was disrupting a lovely jellybean-in-bowl life.”

She picked up the first jellybean and held it out towards him. “Or maybe it was just waiting for you to come and grab it.” She tossed the bean up in the air and he caught it in his mouth, which she was glad of, as she already couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. To cover the way staring at his mouth made her feel, she grabbed the second bean he’d almost taken and popped it into her own mouth. There was something almost naughty in sharing jellybeans with him this way, something that made her belatedly think that Roy might have indeed had something to be jealous of about “Halpert” as he called him, even when she first started putting the jellybeans out instead of mints. But that was in the past, and now she had a fascinating person in front of her who, she hoped, was going to be her future.

“I’m skeptical about your narrative of the love life of a jellybean, but since the other option was letting it fall on the floor—and since you ate my other contender alive—I suppose I’ll have to concede that round.” His grin gave the lie to his formal words. “So, you think this is going to be a cruise?”

She was grateful for the segue back to what she was going to say in the first place. “Yes. Think about it—what’s the nicest thing you can do at the worst time you can do it? A cruise, but in January. That’s Michael in a nutshell.”

“But the ski masks?”

“Michael.”

“The swimsuit? It’s January.”

“Michael.”

“You’re just going to say ‘Michael’ to whatever objection I make, aren’t you?”

“Yep.” She grinned up at him. “And the worst part about it is that you know I’m right.”

“Nope.” He shook his head slowly at her. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“Oh? Is there something you think Michael doesn’t explain?”

“No.” He ran his hand through the short hairs on the back of his neck and she wondered what it would be like to do the same. “You’re wrong that that’s the worst part. Knowing you’re right? That’s always the best part.”

“Flatterer.” She could feel her face heating.

“Just telling the truth. So, what did you want to know about this cruise you think we’re going on?”

“Who are you planning on taking?” She had to make a physical effort to keep her leg from tapping under the desk where he’d hear it.

“Oh.” He tapped the desk with his fingers idly. “Hadn’t really thought…” He glanced up. “I was still holding out for the bank robbery, you know, so…” He chuckled lightly.

“You should bring Larissa,” she blurted, then tried to modulate her voice to sound more nonchalant, to what she worried was little effect. Come up with a reason that isn’t “I want to grill her about you.” “I mean, I just met one of her friends from college and I thought it might be nice to chat with her a little about…” she trailed off. “It’s stupid.”

“Wanting to talk to Larissa about a mutual friend is not stupid.” He met her eyes with a hint of amusement. “Assuming this is a mutual friend. If you’re looking to have her denounce someone, you might have the wrong woman. Larissa’s very loyal.”

“I know.” She did know—Larissa had made it very clear that she was loyal to Jim.

“So who is it you want Larissa to spill the beans on?”

You. “Melanie. Do you know her?”

“Melanie, Melanie, Melanie…” Jim tapped his lips and almost succeeded in distracting Pam from the rest of his answer. “Yeah, she’s a good kid. She and L roomed together freshman year, and the rest, as they say, is history.” He paused. “When did you guys meet?”

Pam froze for a moment, but meeting Jim’s warm gaze reminded her that this was her best friend, the person she loved, the person she could tell anything to. She took a deep breath. “Today.”

“Today?” He leaned back in surprise. “I haven’t seen her come in. Not that I’m sure why she would.” He leaned back and whispered. “You’re sure it wasn’t just Dwight in a wig?”

“Pretty sure.” She gave him a tight smile and she could see his eyes change as he noted the tension in her own face. “Listen…it was today, but not today.”

“Today, but not today…” He quirked an eyebrow. “Like how you gain a day flying to and from Australia?”

She snorted. “No. Listen, this is gonna sound weird…”

“Lay it on me.”

“I’ve been reliving the same day for a while now.” There, she’d said it.

“Like, metaphorically? Pam, is this a cry for help?”

If only you knew. “Not in that way. I don’t mean metaphorically, Jim, I mean literally. I wake up each day and the same clothes I wore the night before are laid out, clean and fresh. No matter where I go to sleep, even in a different county, I wake up in my bed next to Roy. Every day we play the same prank on Dwight—well, I don’t always buy the pencil cup, but the same vending machine prank—and every day Michael mysteriously announces that we’re going on a booze cruise on Lake Wallenpaupack. The. Same. Day.”

He looked at her steadily and then asked a question she would never, in a million years, have guessed he’d ask. “So, which thing gets the best reaction?”

“What?” Had Jim gone unhinged? Had her revelation thrown him into madness?

He sighed. “Which of Dwight’s things? From the vending machine?” When she continued to stare at him, he quirked an eyebrow again. “Look, I believe you, because you’re Pam. So this has been happening. I doubt you know why or you’d have done something about it by now, or at least told me about it, so asking about that doesn’t seem very useful. You haven’t told me what you’re doing with these endless repetitions except for changing out the details of our prank on Dwight, so tell me: which thing gets the best reaction?”

She let out a breath she hadn’t entirely been aware she was holding. He believed her. She hugged his words to her chest internally: I believe you, because you’re Pam. “The stapler.”

“Really? Isn’t pranking the stapler old hat by now?”

“There’s a packet of some kind of beet powder shoved inside it.”

“And there’s a lot we can do with a mysterious packet of powder. Brilliant, Beesly.” He frowned. “So why the pencil cup this time?”

“Because that’s what I did the first time, and it gave me courage.”

“Why did you need courage?” He was still frowning.

“To tell you.”

“Oh.” He made a motion like he was going to reach for her hand, and she caught her breath again, but then he turned it into a little flopping of the wrist gesture instead. “Well, here I am. Told.” He wrinkled his nose. “Why did you start with the Larissa stuff?”

“Because I do actually want to talk to her, and otherwise you bring Katy.” Shit, she had not meant to mention that.

“And you don’t want me to bring Katy?” He was playing with the edge of the jellybean bowl, not making eye contact, and it struck her that this was shy Jim. She wasn’t sure she’d ever really seen it before.

“Not unless you really want to.” She swallowed, then gave a half-laugh that felt artificial even to her ears. “Actually, not even then, if I’m being honest.”

“And why shouldn’t you be honest? After all, I won’t remember this tomorrow.” He gave her a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you bring Katy?”

“Sorry you have to do this alone.” He stood up and glanced around as if becoming aware of their surroundings for the first time in a long time. “I see Stanley’s back, and I better go hear about this booze cruise and try to act surprised. But hey, Pam?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me next time, too.”

“You got it.” She nodded as he tapped her desk and headed over to Stanley.

The rest of the day was actually pretty normal, which surprised Pam, but then again she supposed Jim did have actual work to do during the day sometimes. She herself was sitting there stewing, wondering what had come over her to make her actually near-as come out and tell Jim she didn’t like Katy around. What must he think? What was she doing? But then again, she reminded herself, straightening her spine, she’d told herself she’d be more honest with him and with herself, and what could be more honest? Well, besides grabbing him by the lapels and kissing him, then declaring her love, but she’d try that some other time.

Around 3pm, Jim wandered up to the desk again and she felt a tremor of longing break across her. If only somehow she had already broken up with Roy, she could actually lean over and just…kiss him silly. But for now she’d have to settle for drinking up the sound of his voice.

“Soo….”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking. About this whole…Groundhog Day thing you’ve got going on.” He popped a jellybean. “And I think we need to use this to prank Dwight. Beyond the vending machine.”

“Two pranks in one day? Is that really sporting?”

He grinned. “But then again, for you it’s not really the same day is it?”

“There’s a flaw in that logic somewhere,” she mused. “But I’ll allow it. Continue.” She put her face in her hands and just…looked at him. A good use of her time, she thought.

“I was thinking…what if on this booze cruise…” he glanced up. “You do know what he does on the cruise, right?”

“Of course. He pretends to steer the ship,” and breaks Angela’s heart by not talking to her. Assuming Angela had such a thing to break, of course.

“Is there something you can do with that? Leave him a memo in the morning before Michael announces the cruise? Tell him the ship’s going to run aground, or that the wheel is poisoned, or something?”

“Oooh…” Pam realized this might be the solution to one of her biggest concerns: how to get Dwight away from the wheel and paying actual attention to his girlfriend. “I’d ask if you’ve got my back on this, but you won’t remember it.”

“But I’ll have your back anyway.”

“You will.” She wanted to melt at the intensity in his eyes, and somehow what she’d intended as a question came out as flat truth. He would have her back, even though he wouldn’t remember. He always did.

“Always.” It sounded like a promise. Probably, she reflected, because it was.

The cruise itself was almost anticlimactic. She fobbed Roy off on Darryl, Lonny, and their snorkel shots, made Darryl promise that he wouldn’t let Roy wander off and talk to the captain (saying something about how Michael was going to be sticking close to the captain’s side “and you know how Roy gets along with him”) and spent her time cozied with Jim and Larissa at their table. She chatted with Larissa about Melanie, who she was beginning to suspect Larissa saw a lot of, and with both of them about the plot of Groundhog Day. Eventually she found herself at the rail with Larissa, looking out into the lake and the dark shore beyond.

She recognized an opportunity when she saw it. “Sometimes, I don’t get Roy.”

“What’s there to get?” Larissa snorted, and then backtracked quickly. “Sorry, he’s your…”

“Fiancé, I know.”  Pam shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, he’s not going to be much longer.”

“Good.” Larissa looked like she was physically holding back any further judgment, so Pam sidled up to her on the railing and thrust an elbow into the younger woman’s arm. When did I get so comfortable with Jim’s sister? she wondered to herself.

“Hey,” she said out loud. “We’re friends, right?”

“Right.” Larissa smiled at her. “Any friend of Jim’s, etc.”

“No, no, I mean us. I’d like to be actual friends with you. And not just because you’re Jim’s sister, or because you’re super-cool, or because…”

“You think I’m super-cool?” Larissa tossed her head back and guffawed. “Wait until I tell Jim that. He’ll die.”

Pam smiled. “He just about did the last time I told him.”

“Aww, man, you already told him? I wanted to see his face.” Larissa smiled. “But yeah, you’re good people, Pam. We’re friends.”

“Thanks, Larissa.” Pam felt her face flush and thanked whatever power was responsible for such things for the darkness that shaded her face. “So, about your brother…”

“Yes?” Larissa responded with a characteristic Halpert cocked eyebrow. “What about my brother?”

“If I were…suddenly not engaged to Roy…”

“Yes?” At first Pam thought Larissa was genuinely inquisitive about what she was going to say, then she caught the glimpse of a familiar glint in her eye.

“You know what I’m trying to say!” she accused Larissa while the latter dissolved into giggles.

“Yes, but you don’t say it.” She straightened. “And besides, shouldn’t you be having this conversation with Jim?”

“I will, but only after I’m…free.”

“Ah.” Larissa nodded. “So you’re trying me out in case I say something like Jim’s been faking it the whole time, he’s super gay, so he was just feigning interest so the guys wouldn’t think he was into Oscar? So you can go back to Roy if that’s the case?”

Pam snorted. “No, I’m…it’s just…I thought you might have some insight into your brother.” She took a deep breath. “And no, once I figure out how to cut that connection, it’s cut. No going back.” She added mentally except if I keep waking up in bed with him, but even then I’ll just keep breaking up.

Larissa shook her head. “I don’t have any special insight. Just what anyone can see by looking at him.”

“Which is? Assume I’m going in blind here.”

Larissa smirked. “If you can’t see it yourself, you’re just going to have to ask Jim.” She made a zipping motion across her lips and mock-tossed the key into the lake, then spoiled the effect by going on. “Halpert solidarity.”

Pam decided to have her own fun. “So the way to find out what you think your brother thinks of me is to become a Halpert? Sounds like a plan.”

It was probably for the best that Larissa was already holding onto the rail.