"Okay, people," Larisa clinked her knife against her champagne glass as she sensed everyone reaching the end of their desserts. A few people still had a couple of bites left, but she had mostly been focusing on her brother. She grinned as the entire table went quiet and looked at her - it was rare, with so many people, that they ever achieved full quiet. "Wow, that worked. Sweet. Anyway, umm, this may seem kinda weird, but I have an early Christmas gift for Jim."
"Me?" Jim looked at his sister in surprise.
"Yup. And I guess, Pam."
"Really?" Pam raised a brow in confusion.
"Well, I guess not. In fact, you kinda owe me a bottle of crappy wine and a box of crappy chocolates. And in some ways, not really a gift for Jim either. Mm, more a gift for me," Larisa contemplated, "but mostly Jim, and by that extent, Pam."
"O-kay," Jim chuckled.
"How much champagne have you had Larisa? That made absolutely no sense," Betsy frowned, while the rest of the table murmured similar expressions of confusion.
"Nowhere near enough, mom," Larisa sighed and bent down slightly to reach into her handbag, pulling out a brown A4 postage envelope. She grinned as she handed it to her brother. "Happy December 23rd."
"The bet?" Jim put his champagne glass down and accepted the envelope with an amused expression. "I thought you said five years?"
"Yeah, I thought I would need longer to win this bet," Larisa admitted.
"This is still very confusing," Betsy said, nudging Jim with her elbow, "hurry up and open it!"
Jim nudged Betsy back with a laugh, before looking from Larisa to Pam. Pam nodded to the envelope, intrigued, so he shrugged and tore it open. There were further sounds of confusion from around table when he pulled out the old copy of Us Weekly and a few bills floated out.
"Ha, lame!" Pete snorted from the end of the table.
"The money is for me, thank you," Larisa held her hand out expectantly.
"Now, I'm struggling to see how this is a gift for Jim," Gerald said as he passed his daughter one of the ten-dollar bills that had fallen out.
"Patience, Dad," Larisa scolded her father, snatching the note from him. "Open the cover, Jim."
Jim stared at his sister, trying to work out how Pam fit into this. He looked once more at Pam, hoping her face would give away if she knew anything about this. She looked as confused as he felt, though he could see that the date on the magazine had caught her eye. He watched a moment longer as Pam looked over at Larisa questioningly, and he finally flipped the magazine cover open.
Jim + Pam to be (at least) engaged by 23 December 2011.
"What-" Jim half-laughed, half-spoke the word, shocked, before he cleared his throat and shook his head. Somehow, he was a little lost for words. He felt Pam lean in on his right to read what it said, while his mom did the same on his left.
"Jim plus Pam to be at least engaged by 23rd Decem-" Betsy read aloud, stopping before she reached the end. "Yeah, I'm confused - Larisa?"
"Two years ago I bet that within five years Jim and Pam would be engaged," Larisa stated, "and I bet against Jim. I told him I can't tell him what the bet is, just that it's fifty dollars each and a five-year time limit."
"Two years ago?" Betsy pulled a face. "Pam wasn't there. They weren't even dating then. Were you?"
"No, they were not," Larisa confirmed. "But two years ago - on this day, December 23rd, which is why I have to give this gift today - on the way from the restaurant to mom and dad's house, we had to stop for gas and Jim sent me in to pay. I bumped into none other than Pam."
"What?" Jim's head whipped around to look at Pam, mouth hanging open.
"She did," Pam nodded. "But... why the bet?" She was incredibly curious as to what about their interaction had led to Larisa placing a fifty-dollar bet.
"Don't hate me for telling everyone this, Pam, and I hope you don't mind-" Larisa started, before shaking her head. "No, wait - first - at the gas station, Pam was buying a lot of wine and chocolate because of what she claimed was breaking up with her boyfriend. Pamela Beesly, please correct your statement."
Pam sighed, though she was smiling in amusement at the realization that Larisa had clearly seen through her excuse back then. "I was buying a lot of wine and chocolate because, although I had broken off my engagement earlier that year, things were... not great with Jim."
"I was dating someone else at the time," Jim said, partially to add to the story, and partially to provide some context for himself and the group.
"Jim had told me he loves me, and I rejected him but then broke off my engagement because, well obviously, I loved him."
"And I'd moved to Stamford in that time."
"No!" Betsy gasped, gripping Jim's arm, despite already knowing this information. Somehow hearing the story so truncated felt more dramatic.
"Right?" Larisa nodded at her mom. "A literal Shakespeare tragedy. We chatted for a bit and I was like okay, these two? Come on. Stupid. Sorry Pam - I mostly mean Jim."
"No, you're right," Pam laughed, "but I still don't get how that led to the bet."
"Well, the year before that, obviously we had bumped into Pam at the restaurant and Jim invited her to join us all," Larisa paused to take a sip of champagne, "and like, I just knew this is the chick my brother keeps going on about. Now, Pam, I'm sorry, but there are two things I need to share from that day."
"Umm, okay," Pam laughed nervously.
"One, is that Jim told me the next morning that you kissed him when he dropped you home."
"Oh my God!" Betsy gasped, leaning across Jim to look excitedly at Pam. "I agreed it was a good idea that he drop you home!"
"You're excited that you're part of the reason Pam cheated on her ex-fiancé?" Tom pulled a face. "That's kinda weird."
"Shh, your sister is telling a story!" Betsy admonished, waving one hand to the end of the table while holding Pam's with the other.
"Okay, so I knew then one hundred percent that Pam was into Jim - which, honestly can't believe all three of you losers somehow aren't perpetually single with those faces. But anyway, it confirmed that it wasn't just some unrequited crush like I thought at first. And just... it was so frustrating because Jim thought that kiss didn't really mean anything even though I explained how it totally did - honestly, Pam, I tried, but he's stupid."
"Hey!"
"That's okay," Pam patted Jim's arm with her free hand.
"I still don't see how this led you to betting fifty dollars on them being engaged," Pete said.
"Oh, yeah, that," Larisa grinned. "It's three years ago. December 23rd. We're walking to the table. Pam slips her engagement ring into her coat pocket."
For the second time that evening, the Halpert table fell completely silent, only this time everyone's attention was turned to Pam, who blushed at the sudden revelation.
"I..." Pam fanned herself with her hand, struggling to find what to say, then shrugged. "I guess that says all you need to know about how I felt back then." She smiled up at Jim, before resting her head on his shoulder shyly. Jim could only stare at her in awe and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"I am so glad you joined us for dinner that day," Betsy clasped her hands together and held them to her chest gleefuly.
"Me too," Pam sighed from Jim's shoulder, while he nodded in agreement.
"For ages I kept going over it in my head - should I tell Jim that Pam took off her engagement ring and that maybe he has more of a shot than he thinks he does? Should I tell Pam that I saw her do that? Give them a little push along the way? But I remembered something Pam said that first dinner and since then I've been sure that I was right to keep that detail to myself. These guys needed time to get to the same page," Larisa continued, "and they finally got there."
"Hang on, what did Pam say at that first dinner?" Betsy asked.
"I asked what her dream proposal was," Larisa shrugged. "To be honest, it was just a happy coincidence that the topic had presented itself. Thanks for proposing that year, Tommy boy!" She threw a double thumbs up in Tom's direction.
"So in some ways... I kinda inspired Jim and Pam's relationship?" Tom raised his glass. "Sweet!"
"Not really, I just said it was a happy coincidence, idiot," Larisa rolled her eyes.
"Hang on, what did Pam say?" Betsy furrowed her brows, trying to think back. "About the dream proposal?"
A smile grew on Pam's face as she remembered what she'd told them that year. She could just imagine Jim sat opposite her like he had been three years ago while she recalled, "I said I wanted to know I was ready but for it to still be a surprise."
"Remembering that was kinda what sealed it all together for me," Larisa gestured toward Pam with her champagne glass. "Pam had to know she was ready. Not just for being engaged but to not be engaged, to be ready for a new relationship, to realize how real her feelings for Jim were."
"And he really did give me my perfect engagement," Pam grinned, linking her arm through Jim's.
While Betsy let out an "aww", Pete snorted and asked, "a gas station was really your perfect engagement?"
"I didn't care where it was. I was ready for that step and... he really did surprise me."
"Well... you did kinda care where it was. You said no proposing in a Michael meeting," Jim smirked.
"Michael meeting?" Gerald asked.
"Our boss throws these stupid conference room meetings like, all the time," Pam rolled her eyes.
"Still sounds better than a gas station," Pete said.
"I'm sorry, didn't you propose at a Pizza Hut?" Larisa scoffed.
"That was where we had our first date!" Pete pointed out. "Anyway, you have no say here, there are literally zero people on this planet who want to propose to you."
"Hey, hey, kids, come on," Betsy waved her hands about, slightly exasperated from an evening of having to neutralize multiple arguments between her adult children.
"Believe me, it is better to have zero proposals than to be engaged to someone you wish you weren't even dating," Pam assured Larisa.
"Oh, I know," Larisa shrugged. "I mean, no offence, but... stood up by your fiancé right before Christmas? I'd rather be single, thanks."
"Larisa! That's a little rude, don't you think?" Betsy scolded.
"No - trust me, it's fine, we've had this conversation so many times in the last year," Pam shook her head. "And honestly, I wish people had pointed stuff like that out to me. It's so easy for it to feel normal when you're in that situation. People would let me vent but never say anything, so a lot of the time I'd just feel like maybe I'm the bad guy for moaning all the time."
"See, mom? We got each other's backs."
"Okay, okay, sorry," Betsy nodded. "Oh, I do like that you two are so close now."
"You won't be saying that when you're the next victim of one of their pranks," Jim muttered.
"Your mom? I would never," Pam said, eyes wide. "She taught the Halpert kids all they know; no way am I risking a retaliation prank."
"Eh, I'm still trying to get her to team up with me on that one," Larisa shrugged. "But I like a challenge."
Jim, Pete and Tom all glanced across at each other, then at Larisa, all four of them smirking. Betsy sighed and figured they'd have Pam on their side before the wedding. Gerald took an inconspicuous sip of his drink, making a mental note to tell Larisa he wanted in on whatever prank they planned on Betsy. It would be a great way for Pam to integrate into the family, and he was still a little annoyed about his wife's latest prank on him.
"Anyway," Larisa giggled, breaking the silent scheming going on at the table. "There is one final part to this gift - and it was another happy coincidence in the way Jim asked this question, but it brought me so much joy at the time. Jim, can you turn that envelope around and read me what it says?"
One brow raised, Jim flipped over the envelope and looked to the bottom right corner, where he could see a question written in his sisters handwriting. "What's the opposite of Larisa's ex-boyfriend?"
Everyone looked around at each other, confused at the riddle. Suddenly, Pam's face lit up as the answer hit her. "Oh, oh! Jim's fiancée! Me!"
"There you go," Larisa winked.
"To the opposite of Larisa's ex-boyfriend," Betsy raised her glass, "thank goodness."
"And, to December 23rd," Pam chimed in, before they all brought their glasses together in a noisy symphony of clinks.