She wakes to her alarm and immediately shuts it off. It is dark and cold and for a moment she can pretend she has awoken in the middle of the night to a full bladder. But then she remembers what sent her to bed in the first place, with wet eyes and a racing heart and a pulse she couldn’t quite swallow. And then she remembers why she feels so ill.
Karen follows her as she shoves frozen bread into the toaster and wrestles on her work attire while it cooks. Karen follows her as she paces the kitchen, toast in one hand while her other worries at her chin. Karen follows her while she scoops up her hair in her usual barrette and flees from the bathroom mirror. Karen follows her while she puts on her shoes and slides into her coat and takes a deep breath before opening the door onto the hallway.
But it is Jim who greets her on the other side.
She lets the door close behind her. Listens for the sharp click of it locking. Feels the chill of her keys against her palm, reminiscent only of the night before. She looks at him and knows that he is still there, still on his way back. He is not completely hidden from her.
But the smile he gives her is shallow and forced. “Morning,” he mutters, throwing the greeting across to her like it means nothing at all. Underneath his coat she can see a blue dress shirt, different from the grey he wore yesterday. She notices the distinct absence of Karen.
“You didn’t tell me Karen lived here,” she says, unsure of what else to do, unsure of why she doesn't just say it as it is. She adjusts her handbag on her shoulder, tucks her hair behind her hair. His eyes are trained at the wall next to her head.
“Um, she doesn’t,” he answers. “I do. I swear I didn’t know,” he adds before she can flounder in the silence. “Otherwise I would’ve...”
He doesn’t finish. She doesn’t care to think what he would have done.
“Oh, well, welcome,” she offers. He nods and smiles. “I should probably be getting to the office,” she adds with a slight exhalation that was meant to be a comfortable laugh. She moves away from her door, away from him, without giving him a chance to reply. She can imagine she hears his footsteps against the carpet, following her, keeping up with her. They reach the elevator, reach for the button at the same time. He pulls back immediately, lets out an awkward laugh. Smiles with only half of his mouth without looking at her. She presses the button.
“How long have you been living here?” She prompts as the doors open, before realising the ignorance of her question. “Uh, never mind. That was stupid.”
“About last night,” he suddenly interjects, stepping around her awkwardness. She doesn’t know which of the disasters he is referring to.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” she says, shaking her head. She doesn’t want to talk about this now, with him, in this confined space on their way to work where Karen will also be. She feels the toast adjusting itself in her stomach.
“No, I just wanted to say... It’s good to be back.” And she looks up at him and he looks down at her and she knows that is not at all what he wanted to say.
She offers a smile, more genuine than she believed she could muster. The doors open and he gestures for her to leave first. To walk to her car and drive to work alone.
“I promised I’d pick Karen up,” he explains to her silence, “so I’ll see you there.”
She sits in her car and watches him leave. She takes him in, the way he ducks his head to enter the car, the way he pulls his messenger bag over his head and places it on the passenger seat in one smooth motion, the way he runs a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes as he starts the ignition. She watches him pick a radio station, wishing she could hear his choice. Wondering if that would tell her any more about him than she already knows. Wondering if it would make any difference.
The office is bright and her chair is hard and unyielding. It is 8:45 and she is the only one there, with the phone and the fluorescent lights and low hum of the air conditioner to keep her company. When she is here alone like this, she can close her eyes and hear that hum and feel the satin of the dress she wore to Casino Night against her legs. She can smell his aftershave as he envelops her, taste the alcohol on his mouth. She can feel his sweater beneath her hands, see him smiling at her from beneath that mop of hair, feel the cold against her hands without his to warm them. Cold as they are now, pressed against her desk. She opens her eyes, lets the fluorescent bulbs pick out every detail in her keyboard, jellybeans, notepad, paperclips. She breathes deeply, wondering what thoughts will be crowding her head at the end of the day.
She gives Jim a smile when he opens the door, gives Karen one, too. Watches her kiss him on the cheek before taking a seat at her desk. Watches him sit with his back to her, his computer monitor facing the kitchen. Facing Karen. She looks and sees and notices, notices how many times he taps his pen on the desk without realising, notices how many times he opens Minesweeper to distract him from his spreadsheets, notices how many times he passes Karen on his way to the break room and returns with a bottle of water. Notices how many times Karen looks at him and smiles, guesses from the side of his mouth that he is smiling back.
She follows him to the break room at 2:13, waiting until he opens the door to the kitchen to get up from her desk. He is leaning against the vending machine when she finds him. His hand rests comfortably on top, and it is only now that she notices how tall six feet three inches truly is. She leans against the neighbouring machine so she can smell him. She takes in his deodorant and his aftershave and the smell of Jim that reminds her of coming home. Reminds her of satin and vodka and silence.
“Trying to decide between water flavoured water and water flavoured water?” She teases. It is not her best work. She is trying too hard.
He smiles but doesn’t move to look at her. His arm covers half his face from view. “The differences may be subtle, but still important,” he retorts.
“What happened to grape soda?” She tries not to make it sound as serious a demand as it feels.
“In Stamford, Pam, they drink water.” He looks her full in the face and his tone is so serious she almost believes him. But the realisation he is teasing her tugs a smile from her mouth and she looks at the floor to hide it.
“You’ve changed.” And she is not joking. He knows, hears, sees. Loudly inserts a coin into the vending machine and makes a selection.
“Fancy New Beesly, meet Fancy New Halpert,” he announces, but with his water in hand he makes his exit before she can retort. She moves, his name on her tongue, but her hand reaches out and passes through nothing but air, and she is left alone with the lights and the buzzing of the vending machines. For a moment she wishes he had never come back at all, then remembers that she can’t imagine life without him. Remembers that she needs a carbonated beverage to conceal the fact that she followed someone else's boyfriend into the breakroom. Remembers that she left her change on her desk.
She sits for a moment at a table, resting her head in her hands. She concentrates on the feeling of the cold metal seeping through her cardigan and pooling in her elbows.
“Hey, Pam.”
She looks up, sees Karen, feels sick. “Hey, Karen.”
“Everything alright? You look a bit pale.” Karen moves across the room, juggling the change in her hand as she contemplates the merits of each potential snack food.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit tired,” and it’s not really a lie.
“Actually, I’m glad I caught you,” Karen adds as she fishes her packet of chips out from the machine. “Yesterday was a bit crazy and I wanted to say a proper hello.” She smiles. She means it. Pam can’t bring herself to hate her. She just hates herself.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she offers with an awkward smile and half a laugh. “I’d say it’s not always like that, but I’d be lying.”
“Don’t worry, Jim warned me about Michael.” Pam feels herself stiffen. “And Creed. And Meredith. And Kevin. And Dwight.” Karen laughs. She has already remembered their names. Pam tries to remind herself that one day, Karen will truly belong here. Recoils at the notion.
“Well, I’d better get back to answering phones,” she says as she moves towards the door. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, see you around,” Karen repeats. Pam takes quick strides toward her desk so she doesn’t have to see Jim look around her to find Karen and give her a lingering smile.
