I'm not supposed to have favorites.
I'm supposed to stay neutral so I can make matches fairly and equally.
But since when do I do what I'm "supposed" to do?
I am fond of a fair amount of people I encounter. Really admire and like them. But every once in a while I come across someone really special. Like Betty White.
But this isn't about Betty White. This is about Pamela Morgan Beesly. One of my very favorites.
That may come as a shock to some. Pam is often reserved—quiet. She's not flashy and she doesn't call attention to herself. Some might call her ordinary (which, I'd disagree), but as I've mentioned: there is beauty to be found in ordinary things. And Pam was full of beauty.
But let's back up. It comes as no surprise, but Pam was also shy as a child. She preferred to stay home and draw instead of run around and play outside with friends. She was imaginative and curious. She always dreamt of what her life would be like when she was older. In her visions there was a house with a terrace, a dog, maybe a couple of kids. But most importantly, there was a husband who would be her knight in shining armor. He would be tall and handsome and treat her like a princess.
As she grew older and got into high school, that image remained in the back of her mind. She didn't date much and mostly kept to herself, but she was always observing. Such is the way of an artist.
Over Christmas break during her freshman year of high school, her parents dragged her along to a holiday party for her dad's work. She hated being introduced to all his coworkers and putting on a smile as they all said, "Wow, you've grown!" and made small talk about school and boys (ha) and whatever else. Finally, she was able to sneak away to a secluded corner. She pulled out a small notebook from her purse and began doodling. She was halfway through a caricature of her dad's boss when she heard a voice behind her shoulder. Instinctually, she covered her drawing with her arm.
"You hate these things too?" the voice asked.
She turned to see Roy Anderson, a boy she knew from school standing there.
She brought her hand up to tuck her bangs behind her ear nervously. "Yeah, they kind of blow."
"Right?! All these adults trying to talk to you and seem interested or whatever."
Pam smiled. "Yeah, totally."
He sat down at the table next to her. "I'm Roy, by the way."
She looked at her shoes, unsure if she should tell him she knew who he was. She settled on, "Anderson, right? You're on the football team."
"Wait, you go to Valley View?"
She just nodded. Of course he didn't know who she was.
"That's awesome! So…what's that?" He gestured to her drawing.
She blushed and flashed the drawing to Roy who let out a laugh. "That's hilarious! You're really good at drawing."
They continued to talk and Pam couldn't get over the fact that he seemed to genuinely want to talk to her. She didn't get noticed much and now a popular boy at school was laughing and talking with her.
I should interject here. As a general rule, I don't send sparrows to the underage. I have found that they're too unreliable and finicky and their moods change more often than I can keep up with. So I just let what happens, happen. More often than not, they don't make it past high school graduation.
But every so often, I get some who stay together. Then I'm faced with the conundrum of what to do with them. I don't want to ever break them up, but on the other hand…let's just put it this way: often the first choice isn't the best choice.
Let's continue.
Pam and Roy began talking at school when they came back from break. Then talking turned into studying and studying turned into studying. Perhaps Roy wasn't exactly what she had always envisioned, but it was only high school and he really did seem to like her, despite their differences. He was loud, she was not. He liked parties, she did not. But they made it work. And Pam would be lying if she said it wasn't kind of cool to be dating someone as popular as Roy. When Roy would do something stupid, he was always able to soften her back up with an apology and something that she couldn't help but smile at. Before I knew it, it was senior year and the two were still together. It had become comfortable to Pam. She didn't like change and Roy had become a constant.
For years, Pam had always wanted to attend Pratt after high school. She had the grades and had been working very hard on her art portfolio. But it was in Brooklyn. Roy's grades couldn't get him into a school anywhere near there. And even if they could, he told Pam he didn't want to leave. For weeks it ate at her. She wanted Pratt, but she and Roy had been together so long and she loved him. She did. (She thought she did. I kind of speculated. But this isn't my story.)
So eventually she decided to attend Marywood while Roy went to Lackawanna Junior College. She got a job at the local Denny's while attending classes full time. After a couple years in school, she and Roy decided to move in together. But with that, came more bills and responsibility. Roy decided college wasn't for him (read: he flunked out) and with the mounting pressure to support their new life together, Pam decided to stop taking classes. Just for a year, she told herself.
A year turned into three and Roy went through twice that many jobs in that time. Eventually, Pam found her reception job at Dunder Mifflin. The pay was higher, the hours were better, and she wasn't on her feet as long as she was while waitressing. When she was at her interview, she saw the warehouse was hiring as well and told Roy he should apply when she got home. He grumbled, but ultimately applied and they both got the jobs. At least they could save on gas, she thought.
About three weeks after she started, a new salesman got hired—a mister Jim Halpert. There was something in his smile as he first walked through the door. It was warm—genuine. She felt like he somehow already knew her and he hadn't even said a word to her yet. She stood up and smiled back.
"You must be Jim."
"In the flesh," he shrugged, and lifted the corner of his mouth into a half-smile. (That half-smile has been my best friend when sending sparrows to women about Jim. He's quite a handsome fella.)
Their friendship basically began from the moment they met. On Jim's first day, they ended up eating lunch together. Eventually Toby came into the break room and told Jim there was some paperwork he still needed to fill out. After Jim left, Pam realized she still had a smile plastered on her face.
It was nice to have a friend at work, she thought.
Man, I wanted to send so many sparrows. Freakin' moral compass or whatever…
Jim and Pam's friendship ripened quickly. Subtly, Jim began replacing Roy in a lot of ways. Pam stopped telling Roy about the drama passed around in the circle of Dunder Mifflin receptionists and instead, she told Jim while he smiled behind his ham and cheese sandwich at lunch. She told herself it was because Jim knew a few of the receptionists and so it made more sense, but I knew it was because Jim actually listened to her stories instead of just nodding with his eyes still fixed on whatever sporting event was happening on the TV.
Pam told herself a lot of things.
And I just had to sit back and watch.
I had to watch while she gave up on opportunities because it wasn't in Roy's plans.
I had to watch her censor herself when talking to him because she knew he wouldn't be interested or would brush her off.
And ultimately, I had to watch as she fell in love with her coworker but was too deep in her relationship to even realize it was love.
Because as far as she knew, she had been in love since she was 15 and it felt nothing like this.
There were times I saw her question or toe the line with Jim. She became very good at separating work life and home life, even with Roy working downstairs in the warehouse. At work, she would loosen a bit. She would subconsciously flirt or find a reason to be physically close. But then Roy would come upstairs and would bleed into this space she had carved out for Jim, causing her to tighten the slack—straighten and correct course. To remind her subconscious that this was nothing more than friendship.
I remind you, I get to know people. Sometimes I get to know people even better than they know themselves. So it was hard to see Pam blossom around Jim only to retreat around Roy and to not have her understand what that truly meant—what she could have—and most of all, not be able to do anything about it.
Until I did.
Whoops.
I sent that sparrow to Jim in the parking lot, urging a confession out of him, sure she would finally get it and realize what she had been feeling for years had been love, not just friendship.
But she had already gotten so used to constantly defending her relationship with Roy to herself, that now that it was being questioned in earnest, she habitually put up her walls. But as Jim walked past her, brushing away that rebellious tear from his cheek, her defenses were punctured and the doubt trickled in.
Unfortunately, not fast enough.
Even as he snaked his arms around her and pulled her into his body and finally answered every question she had with his lips and his gaze and his hands—her tattered armor remained. Her heart pounded against it and pleaded to just let him in, but it wasn't enough for her mouth to say the words her heart felt until it was too late.
Jim was gone.
I was defeated.
But I wasn't giving up just yet.
It took Jim leaving to really cause Pam to dissect her relationship with Roy. Had she ever been happy with him? I think the answer was definitely yes, but it was as if there was a finite amount of happiness she could have with him and she had reached that limit long ago. Now she needed more. She had grown and outgrown their relationship and Jim flipping her world upside-down exposed the flaws and the bursting seams. She knew it was time to move on.
This is where Pam started to climb my list of favorites. I was always fond of her. She observed people, much like I did. She was kind and genuine. No, she didn't always get it right, but you'll be hard pressed to find a human who does. But after she broke up with Roy, I saw her come into her own. I saw as she figured out who she was outside of being "Pam and Roy" and became just "Pam". There were plenty of times she found herself curled in the corner of her new apartment, knees hugged to her chest and tears in her eyes, but she wiped those tears and kept going. And while she missed Jim fiercely, I think this time was crucial for her.
She brought out her watercolors again. The motivation to paint had waned over the last couple of years, but now it was her favorite outlet.
There were a few dates, but nothing that really planned out. Nobody seemed to fit. Maybe I just knew they'd never compare to Jim, but I couldn't get myself to send any sparrows.
Then she got word of Jim's return to Scranton. They had reconnected accidentally over the phone while he was in Stamford but she couldn't stop smiling thinking about seeing him in person. She didn't know what to expect, honestly. But she had long come to the realization that it had never been just friendship between them. And now she understood herself better than ever before.
She heard his voice first, which turned her stomach into a flurry of butterflies. Then she saw him and his smile sent warm shivers through her. She had missed him so damn much. She hugged him tightly around the neck, taking in the familiar scent of aftershave and fabric softener.
Things looked hopeful. Until they didn't. Slowly, it became apparent that the Jim she knew never made it back to Scranton.
This confidence Pam had begun to gain since leaving Roy slowly began to fade. She finally understood what it must have been like for Jim. It was painful to watch him with Karen and feel so…left behind.
But she still had her watercolors. She had enrolled in art classes—something Roy always said she shouldn't do ("You already know how to do art, Pammy" Ugh. That guy). She sat down one night at her secondhand kitchen table, paints in front of her, and began pulling them across the page.
When she finished, she surprised even herself. It was a painting of the building she worked in. It was the place she found herself. Her hand ran over the painted parking lot. It was the place she met Jim. The place where she lost him. Twice. It would always be more than a building for her.
The further Jim seemed to get, the more she began to wonder if she imagined or inflated what happened the night of the casino party. She questioned everything. So when Roy showed up again, the familiarity she craved reared its ugly head, and she let it take a hold of her again.
(To be honest, I may be partly to blame. I was trying to get Toby Flenderson and his wedding date together with a sparrow and Roy got in the way and caught some of it and it caused him to shoot his shot with Pam. I can never seem to get it right with Toby. Poor guy.)
Thankfully, once Roy's true and classic colors came shining through (and broke some mirrors in the process), Pam remembered why she left. She may not be able to have Jim, but she had realized what she deserved and it wasn't Roy. It was so much more. So she called it off for the second and final time, reviving the Fancy New Beesly she had begun to develop the summer after she inadvertently shattered her own heart and picked up the pieces.
During this whole time I had been trying to find my loopholes. Ways to push these two knuckleheads together without breaking my rules. Then I saw an opening.
Michael had brought the members of the office to the beach for some team building activities. One of those was a hot coal walk. As far as Michael saw it, it was a flop. Nobody wanted to do it. But it was my opportunity with Pam. I sent a sparrow, reminding her of something Jim had told her before: "You've gotta take a chance on something sometime, Pam."
She was tired of being complacent. Tired of standing back and just letting things happen to her. She thought of Jim and how scared she was to speak up when he bore it all in that parking lot. So she took a breath and walked across the coals. She was strong. She was capable. She was Pam friggin' Beesly.
And that rush led her to finally be honest with Jim. And let me tell you, I could have kissed her. (Platonically, of course. I'm not into mortals.) She was cracking the door for me to make something happen.
But she learned that Jim applied to a job at corporate. If you watch the documentary, you'll see that Pam slipped a note with a yogurt lid into Jim's interview papers. You're probably assuming that was my doing. But you would be wrong. That was all Pam, and another reason she was my favorite. I don't know if she knew the effect it would have on Jim, but I love that she sent it anyway. I love that even though they were navigating some rocky waters, she knew what Jim cherished.
After I broke my rules and sent the sparrow to Jim in New York, I sat back and observed. I saw Pam at her desk. She was so different from the young Pam I met at the holiday party when she was 15. She had figured out who she was and could stand up for herself. She had come to terms that even if it was just her, she liked herself enough to have that be okay. And in my opinion, that made this timing so perfect.
Jim, the real Jim, showed up and whisked her off her feet, but she knew she didn't have to rely on him to be happy. She could do that herself, but boy, did he enhance everything. He illuminated it. They were good on their own, but even better together.
And for a while, their life was pretty picture perfect. I saw them navigate a long distance relationship while Pam finally made it to Pratt, Jim's full support under her wings. They became parents and even through the sleepless nights and self doubt and insecurities, Jim loved her fully, if not more than he had before.
But as you know, things aren't always perfect. Jim and Pam had settled into a comfortable groove. Familiarity was Pam's friend, remember? And suddenly Jim was disrupting everything she knew. He started a new company without telling her. He spent their savings without clearing it with her. He made all these plans without her and didn't seem to see what it was doing to her. She was worn out. She was confused.
Deep down, she knew Jim's intentions. He wasn't Roy, not even close. She knew he was doing this for their family, for her, for their future. But was it supposed to feel this lonely?
For me, seeing them struggle was difficult. Each provided fault in this situation. Jim obviously should have gone about everything differently. And Pam should have voiced her true concerns from early on. But regardless, they found themselves fraying at the edges as they tried to make it work.
I knew them from the beginning. I knew who they were at their core. And I couldn't let it fall apart.
As I mentioned, as Jim left one afternoon to catch a cab to Philly, I sent a sparrow to Pam. Just a small thought that it might rain and Jim would need his umbrella. She figured it was motherly instinct, but I knew better.
She barely caught him before he left. By this point I had already worked my magic on Jim. Now it was time for one last sparrow.
I had her remember their wedding. She remembered those two kids, wet hair and severed tie, standing in that church already secretly married. She remembered the promises they made to each other. She remembered just how much they had gone through to be standing there together. And with Jim's arms already wrapped around her, she remembered just how much she didn't want to do any of this life without him. She threw her arms around his neck and promised herself they would figure it all out because there was simply no other way.
They really should name that parking lot after them.
*****
So that brings us here. The documentary has aired. Dwight and Angela are finally married. I'm sitting in the office with these people who have given me countless headaches. They're idiots and they're stubborn and they're clueless.
And I kind of love them.
Beauty in the ordinary. Am I right?
Author's Chapter Notes:
I really wanted to get this posted in February, but the day after will have to do. Thank you so much for all the love surrounding this little idea I had. This is the most creative I've gotten in my writing so it felt very vulnerable and your kind reviews have made me so happy!
So here it is: Cupid's final chapter.
Chapter End Notes:
A HUGE thank you to those who let me pick their brain and share passages and sent their own sparrows that urged me to finish. You know who are and I'm grateful for you.
