Jim shook his head to dislodge the snow that had fallen on him during the walk from his car to the door of the coffee shop. His eyes scanned the room as he slid his scarf off his neck. Warm aromas of roasting coffee beans assailed him. He didn’t see what he was looking for, so he moved to stand in line. Soon he had a fresh cup of coffee and a cinnamon crunch bagel with cream cheese in his hands. He chose a small table facing the door and sat down. A minute later Sam walked in and looked around. Jim stood up when he saw the other man and raised a hand.

“Sam! Over here.”

“Gotcha!” Sam called out. “Let me grab something to drink and I’ll be right over.”

“No problem.” Jim sat down again and waited for the other man to join him.

Sam wasn’t long and deposited his own coffee and breakfast sandwich on the table before draping his coat over his chair and sitting down. He paused for a moment to pray silently before looking up at Jim and taking his first sip of coffee.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me so early,” said Jim.

“Perks of being freelance,” Sam grinned. “I get to set my own hours. So, what’s up? Your text last night after class just said you wanted to meet again as soon as possible.”

The familiar feeling of heaviness settled in Jim’s gut as he contemplated his next words. “It’s about some of the stuff we’ve been talking about after classes for the last couple of weeks.”

“How I’ve been telling you to tell Pam how you really feel about her.” Sam’s voice was slightly muffled around a bite of his breakfast.

“Yeah. It’s just that, I’m not, I mean, it’s...” Jim’s feet shuffled nervously, and his voice trailed off. “I’m not really big into confrontations. Like I’d rather diffuse something with a joke or deflect attention somewhere else.”

“At least you’re being honest with yourself and with me right now,” Sam told him. “That’s a good start.”

Jim realized he’d been staring at his coffee cup instead of Sam. He flicked his eyes up and down briefly. “Thanks. It’s just that-”

“Hold on,” Sam interrupted. He waited until Jim looked up at him. “We’re not going to have a serious conversation like this with you looking away from me. I’m right here and while I'm going to be direct, I’m not here to intentionally make you feel bad. Also, I promise what’s said at this table stays at this table unless you tell me it’s okay to share it with anyone.”

A layer of the tension Jim was feeling lifted from his shoulders, and he kept his gaze directed at Sam. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” He took a deep breath to steady himself but suddenly his mind was blank. “I don’t really know where to start,” he finally admitted.

“A good place to start would be at the beginning,” said Sam. “I seem to remember that you and Pam have been co-workers for about three years now, you two seem to get on really well, and that Pam is engaged to another man that you don’t think very highly of. Start there.”

Casting his mind back to when he first walked into Dunder-Mifflin and saw her sitting at the reception desk, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Yeah, that’s about right. I didn’t know she was engaged when I first met her. The ring didn’t fit when she got engaged so it was off being re-sized. She also didn’t mention her fiancé for a couple days. We went out to Cugino’s for lunch during that first week. We came back to our office, and I remember feeling like it was the best first date I’d ever been on. When we got back her finance was there waiting for us. The ring had come back from the jeweler. That’s how I found out about him.”

“Ouch,” Sam winced.

“Yeah, big time,” Jim frowned. “I tried to keep things platonic after that. I’ve tried going out with other women. Things like that, but every time I’m with another woman I’m always comparing her to Pam. I know it’s not fair of me, and it’s not fair to them either.”

Jim spent the next few minutes talking about how his feelings for Pam had grown over the years. How easily they seemed to complement each other. That he’d never been able to talk to someone as easily as he did with her. How much he loved her creative side. The times her patience and kindness had melted his heart.

“And through it all, she’s with someone else. An overgrown man-child that is rarely there for her.”

Sam had remained quiet during Jim’s speech. At last, he raised his eyebrows and pointed down at the table. “You’re going to choke that napkin to death if you don’t let go.”

The oddball comment shook Jim out of the slight daze he’d been in. Looking down he saw white knuckles curled around the napkin in question. With deliberate effort he relaxed his hand and let the napkin drop to the table.

“Jim like I said I’m going to be direct with you.” Sam started. “You’re dancing in a minefield that’s for sure. Some might even go as far as saying you’re having an affair with her. Maybe not a physical one, but an emotional one.”

“I’m not that kind of guy!” Jim snapped.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice was polite but firm. “Slow your roll. I’m trying to be on your side here. Don’t bite my head off or I’ll just get up and leave.”

“Sorry,” Jim said quietly.

“It’s alright, just setting a boundary is all.” Sam took another pull of his coffee before he began. “I’m glad we’re having the chance to have this conversation. I’ve been brief but direct before. Back when we were playing pool and again last night in the parking lot. I think we’ve got some time for me to explain a few things this morning. I think you’re a nice guy Jim.”

The corner of Jim’s mouth peaked upwards. “Thanks.”

Sam grimaced for a second before he replied. “You may want to hold off before you thank me for that. There’s a saying that nice guys finish last. I tend to agree with that statement. Here’s what I mean by that. When I say you’re a nice guy, think of it like a title. Capital N, capital G, Nice Guy.
“It seems like it should be something that’s good, but in reality, being a Nice Guy can lead to a dark place. The Nice Guy says to himself, and especially about women, ‘Girls say they just want a nice guy. I’m nice but they always go out with the dicks and the jerks.’ Or a Nice Guy will think things like, ‘I’m the guy who makes her laugh, the one she talks to, the one who really gets her. How come she can’t see she’d be better off with me? What’s wrong with her?’ He’s constantly in the friend zone and he starts to get resentful about it. Any of this ringing any bells?”

Conviction burned hot like fire in Jim’s chest. “Yeah,” he nodded.

Sam toasted Jim with his coffee cup. “Thank you for being honest again. Here’s what I want from you Jim and it’s why I’ve been encouraging you to be honest with Pam. I don’t want you or any guy to be a Nice Guy. You’ve probably heard in various forms over the years to, ‘Be a Man.’ I think that sentiment is lacking one crucial word. I don’t want you to just be a man, I want you to be a Good Man.”

Jim heard a faint turn in Sam’s voice that indicated he’d just described another title. “What’s the difference?”

A subtle shift came over Sam’s face and Jim saw his friend was about to settle into an area that had been given much thought and attention.

“When one thinks of the phrase, ‘be a man,’ it’s usually told to a guy who is showing some form of perceived weakness. Did you ever see the Disney version of “Tarzan?”

When Jim nodded Sam went on. “Excellent. Then you probably remember near the end there’s a scene where Tarzan has the bad guy at gunpoint but doesn’t pull the trigger. Clayton, the bad guy remember, tells Tarzan to be a man and shoot him. Tarzan still doesn’t pull the trigger, but instead imitates the sound of a gunshot causing Clayton to cower. When Clayton realizes he’d been tricked, Tarzan tells him that he’s, ‘not a man like you,’ and slams the gun on a tree branch causing it to break before falling into the underbrush.
“It’s a kid’s movie for sure, but it’s a great way to show the difference between positive and negative aspects of masculinity. Both Tarzan and Clayton are physically strong. They’re also not afraid to use that physicality. The difference is in how they apply their strength. Clayton uses force to ensnare beings he sees as below him for selfish gain. Three-hundred-pounds sterling a head to quote him directly. Tarzan uses force as well, but it’s to defend his family and those close to him. First when a leopard attacks the gorillas and then later in defeating the hunters. They’re both men, but Tarzan is the Good Man.
“A Good Man knows who he is, first and foremost for himself. He knows what he wants out of life or is taking clear steps to get there. He knows how to take care of himself and because he can take care of himself, he can take care of others. He’s not perfect, because none of us are, but he strives to be the best version of himself he can be. He knows what he can control and what he can’t. He’s a man of strength, courage, purpose, integrity, character, and wisdom.”

Jim blew out a breath and took a sip of his drink before he replied. “That’s some speech.”

“Thank you,” Sam cocked his head at Jim. “Are there any men in your life who fit that description? Your own father? A coach? A teacher? A pastor?”

Taking a deep breath, Jim cast in his mind for images of men who could fit Sam’s idea. “My dad and grandpa for sure,” he started out. “My high school basketball coach. Growing up my best friend’s dad would always say I was welcome to go camping with them.”

“Sounds great,” Sam’s voice glowed with pride for Jim. “I’ll tell you one of mine. Fred Rogers, from Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.”

Jim’s face lit up as memories washed over his face. “I loved watching his show when I was growing up!”

“Me too,” said Sam. “Did you know he was an ordained Presbyterian minister? A lot of people don’t because they only knew him from his TV show. But he considered that show his own personal mission field. I could go on and on about him, but I’ll try to keep this somewhat brief. One of the big reasons he’s one of my own role models of masculinity is that he showed so many important traits. I want to highlight two.
“First was his steadfastness. Every episode started the same way. The music started, the camera swept over the model town, and he came through the door singing the same song. He took off his sport coat and put on his cardigan of the day. Then he took off his dress shoes and put on his sneakers. He did that every, single, time. It created a set point. Regardless of anything else, if you tuned into his show, he started out the same. He knew the value of consistency, especially to kids watching from a huge variety of backgrounds. Years later when I started looking into his life, I heard story after story of kids who watched his show every day it was on. Many came from broken homes. The fact that Mister Rogers showed up in the same way showed them that there was someone out there who cared and would always be there for them in the same way. In a world where everything is always changing there was a man who was steady as a compas pointing north. A Good Man is steadfast.
“Second, and I think this is probably the biggest thing, was his kindness. He wasn’t a man who was a bodybuilder or an action movie hero. He was always dressed modestly. He talked slowly and quietly. He dealt with real issues kids faced rather than going for cheap laughs and jokes. He invited people to come with him and delighted in showing the world to his audience. All with a smile and a gentle spirit. Behind the scenes, he spent hours personally responding to fan mail. Sometimes fan requests would make it onto the show. A blind girl once wrote to him that she was concerned about his pet fish because she couldn’t see when he fed them at the end of each episode. From then on, he made sure to verbally say he was feeding his fish, just so that one girl would know he was taking care of them. It’s not because of his toughness, bravery, or stoicism that he’s remembered so fondly by so many. It’s because of his gentleness. A Good Man is kind.”

A silence fell over the table as Jim digested Sam’s words. A sip from his coffee cup helped to dislodge the frog in his throat. After a few beats, Sam spoke up again.

“How you doing over there?”

“Good,” Jim let out with a brief cough. “I’m good. It’s just a lot you know. You gave these two examples of what it means to be this Good Man you talk about and it’s kind of a lot to take in. You’ve got Tarzan swinging through the trees and then Mister Rogers singing while tying his shoes.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Sam smiled. “There’s no one set way. In some instances, a Good Man will have to use his physical strength to shield those he loves from harm. Other times he allows the depths of his feelings to care for the world around him. If your only tool is a hammer, you see every problem as a nail. You can try and smooth out a piece of wood with a hammer, but sandpaper will do the job a lot better.”

Jim let out a chuckle. “Sounds like something my co-worker Dwight would say. Don’t worry about that though.”

Without warning Jim’s phone started chirping. He looked down and was shocked to see Pam’s name light up on the front screen. Looking up he gave Sam an apologetic glance before flipping open the phone and pressing it to his ear.

“Hey Beesly!”

“Jim! I-I-don't know what to do!”

Instantly the smile that had formed on his face dissolved when he heard her crying voice. “Pam! What’s wrong?”

“Roy was here, then we fought, and I shoved my ring at him, and now he’s gone, and I don’t know what to do!”

Jim was on his feet and reaching for his coat in a flash. “Just hold on. I can be over there in five minutes if you need me.”

“Yeah, I just...” Pam’s voice trailed off in sobs.

Sam was on his feet as well. “Is that Pam? What’s going on?”

“Pam, hold on a sec.” Jim pulled the phone away from his ear to slip his coat on. “I don’t know, but it sounds like she just got in a fight with Roy, and she said something about shoving her ring at him then he left. Regardless of how I feel, she’s my friend and my friend needs help.”

“Good man,” Sam nodded respectfully at Jim. “Just remember, she probably doesn’t want you to fix anything right now, she just needs you to be there for her.”

“Thanks, got to go.” He tossed his scarf around his neck and walked out of the coffee shop. His phone was back on his ear before his keys were out of his pocket. “Pam, I’m on my way.”

Five minutes later, Jim was knocking on the door of Pam’s apartment. He strained his ears trying to listen for sounds coming from the other side. After what seemed like an eternity, the dead bolt slid back, and the door cracked open. He caught sight of her red eyes peeking around the door before it flew open and she launched into him.

“Jim!” She buried her face in his coat as more tears fell down her face. Her shoulders shook due to her crying and her hair covered her face.

He brought his arms around her with one hand gently running across her shoulder blades. “Hey, hey,” he said softly to her.

Warm air from the open door battled with the chill of the wind from the parking lot. He felt stray wisps of her hair caught in the breeze under his nose. A fresh gust blew in from behind and he took a step to the side to shield her from the worse of the biting cold. At last, she stood back up and turned back to the apartment. She reached back and latched onto his hand to lead him inside. He kicked the door shut behind him as she led him to a small table. She sat down in one of the chairs and propped her face on her hands. Jim took off his coat and scarf before reaching forward to place a gentle hand on her forearm.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Wordlessly she nodded as a fresh wave of tears and sobs burst from her.

Just be here, he said to himself. Don’t offer anything, don’t try to fix anything, just be here.

“Roy was out at a strip club last night,” she finally croaked out. “He said it was poker night, but he was out with his buddies with his face shoved in some other woman’s chest.”

Jim swallowed hard before he steeled his courage. “I know.”

“What?” Pam looked up at him.

Jim told her what Roy had said in the warehouse the previous day, as well as what he saw inside Roy’s locker. “Then when I got back upstairs and got out of Michael’s office we started joking and, well I didn’t want to upset you with all that. I didn’t know if it was my place or not to tell you that, so I kept quiet. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Pam wiped her eyes. Her voice was still thick with strain. “No, you didn’t. It’s not fun to hear, but at least I appreciate you telling me the truth. Damnit! What am I going to do Jim? I tried calling my mom, but she lives an hour away. I tried calling my sister, but it just went to voicemail. She’s probably at work by now anyway. I don’t want to be here anymore, but I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

She glanced at her watch and a new wave of anxiety hit her too. “Crap, we’re going to be late for work!”

“Hold on there, Beesly. Cool your jets. It sounds like you could use a break. May I suggest using some of your sick time?”

“And do what Jim?” Pam flung her arms around the apartment? “Pack up and move? To where? It’s not like I have a new apartment lined up and ready to go! Even if I did, I don’t have any way to move any of my stuff there. My options are crash with my sister, if I can get a hold of her, or crash at some hotel. It’s not like you can just stick around babysitting me all day either.”

Jim sighed. He wanted to suggest any number of actions, but he also remembered Sam’s advice. Instead, he lowered his voice but kept a firm hand on her arm. “You’re right. This sucks.”

“It does Jim,” Pam sobbed again. “It sucks so much!

He waited for her breathing to calm down again before talking once more. “Pam, I’ll be honest with you, I don’t know what to do either. I want to suggest a few courses of action, but I also don’t know if you want me to. What I do know is that if you or I don’t do anything in the next couple of minutes, Dwight’s going to walk into the office, see we’re not there, check the voicemail, and report both of us to Michael for a no call-no show. I can probably get away with it by claiming I was out on an early morning sales call, but we both know that won’t fly with you. If you want to try and go to work, I’m happy to give you a ride since I’m here. If you don’t, that’s fine too. My gut says it would be better for you to call off today so you can have some time to start to figure things out, but it’s your call.”

Pam wiped her eyes again and nodded her head. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I left my phone by the couch. I’ll call off for today and we’ll go from there.”

She left to find her phone leaving Jim alone at the table. He also pulled out his phone and left a voicemail for Michael stating he’d be out of the office for the day. Pam returned to the table with her phone and left her own message for their boss. When she was done, she closed her phone and let out a sigh.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I told Micheal I’d be out of the office all day. I’m here for you today. You said earlier you don’t want to be here right now. You also said the idea of a hotel doesn’t feel appealing. You’re welcome to grab some stuff and come over to my place if you want. You can take a shower, crash on the couch, start looking online for apartment options. If you want to that is.”

“What about you? Don’t you have clients to call or anything like that?”

“I’ve got my home office remember?” Jim chuckled and was relieved to see the corners of Pam’s mouth curl up when the memory hit her. “I’ll make a couple calls from home later to keep my numbers up.”

“Okay, let me get a suitcase and we’ll get going.”

“Want some help?”

“Yes please, thank you.” Pam pointed to a cupboard above the counter. “There’s some mugs and my teapot in there. Could you grab them please and put them on the table?”

“Of course,” Jim said as he stood up.

Pam left to start gathering items while Jim crossed the kitchen to the cupboard in question. The teal teapot he’d given her met his eyes along with several ceramic mugs. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out which ones were hers. Soon the teapot was resting on the table with several pink mugs. He caught her eye as she passed, leaving what he assumed was the bedroom.

“Here’s your teapot and mugs. I hope I got them all.”

She glanced over and nodded. “Yeah, that’s all of them. I only have a few that are specifically mine. I don’t really care about any of the others.”

“Do you have a broom?” Jim looked over at the glass on the floor. “I noticed that the watercolor of yours fell. I can clean that up while you get the rest of your stuff.”

Pam swallowed before pointing to the hall closet. “In there. I’d like to keep the painting, but you can toss the frame.”

“You got it.”

Jim got to work sweeping the glass from the floor while Pam gathered the rest of her belongings. He handed her the painting which she tucked into a large folder. Her mugs and teapot were the last to be packed into her suitcase so they could be padded with her clothes. She pulled the zipper closed and tossed a backpack over her shoulder.

“That should be everything,” she said wistfully. “At least everything I’ll need for now. I’ll probably have to come back sometime and divide up some of the other stuff, but I’ve got all my clothes, bathroom stuff, and art supplies. Let’s get going.”

He helped her load her things into his car before opening the passenger door for her. In the few brief seconds, it took for him to cross back to his door, he made sure to take a few steady calming breaths. Making sure the heater was cranked he pulled out of the apartment parking lot and started driving to his place.

Pam kept her eyes out of the window with a faraway look on her face. “How sad is it that all the things I own that are important to me fit in just a big suitcase and a backpack?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. It’s been a crappy day, and my mind is racing all over the place. I can’t seem to stop thinking about how I just ended this relationship which means I’m re-living it all in my head. I moved in with Roy right after I dropped out of college since I didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was supposed to be just until I got my own place, but then he proposed so I figured I’d be with him anyway so why move out only to eventually move back in?”

Jim glanced over at her while slowing down for a red light. “Is having your own place important to you?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve never had my own place, so I don’t even know what it’s like to really be on my own. I had a roommate in college, then like I said I moved in with Roy.”

“Sounds like you’d like some space that’s just yours,” Jim offered. “A place where you can decorate how you want, set it up how you want, all that good stuff. Remember, when we get to my place, you’re welcome to start looking online and see what kind of things are out there.”

“Maybe,” Pam said while still looking out the window. “Right now, though I’d like a shower and a chance to change. I fell asleep in these clothes last night and need to put on something new.”

“Whatever you want,” Jim confirmed.

“Thanks.” Pam’s voice was quiet as she resumed her vigil.

It didn’t take long to make the drive. Jim popped the trunk and carried in Pam’s suitcase. He dropped it in the hallway and offered to take her coat.

“Shower’s upstairs if you recall. I’ll put this in the living room if you want.”

“Thank you,” Pam told him. “I just need to grab a few things out of my suitcase first.”

Jim walked upstairs with her after she grabbed a change of clothes and her shower kit. He pulled a fresh towel out of the closet before leaving her for her ablutions. Walking back downstairs, he saw her teapot resting on his coffee table from where she’d set it. Carefully he carried it and one of her pink mugs to his kitchen table. He pulled a pan out and poured in some milk. Resting it on the stove he turned the burner on low until the milk started to heat up. When it was just the right temperature, he carefully poured it in her teapot to stay warm. When Pam came back downstairs, she was greeted with the sight of a mini hot chocolate bar waiting for her on the table.

“Sorry I don’t have any tea, but I figured hot chocolate would work well too.” Jim gestured to the teapot, her mug, and one of his own. “You’ve got your choice between Swiss Miss or chocolate syrup. I’ve got some whipped cream and sprinkles if you’d like any toppings. It’s not much, but I figured you could you something warm.”

Pam’s hands went to her face and her face screwed up in a smile. Tears brimmed again, but this time Jim saw the sparkle in her eye that meant they were happy tears. “Oh Jim! You didn’t have to do this!”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

She brought her hands down and pulled out a chair. “Swiss Miss with sprinkles please?”

“Coming right up,” he grinned back.

Soon he had her mug filled and had a mug filled for himself. He held it up for a toast.  “To a new beginning.”

“Cheers,” she said warmly and clinked her mug to his.