“Yeah, we’ll be there. Yup! Looking forward to it. Yup. Ok, say hi to dad for me. Love you too. Bye.”
Jim looked up from the couch at Pam who was walking back from the kitchen of his townhouse. She deposited two mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table before curling up next to him on the couch. Jim reached forward with the remote and Home Alone started playing again.
“My mom. She just wanted to confirm that we’ll be at the Beesly Christmas party this Saturday.”
“Should be fun,” he remarked. On the TV screen paint cans smashed into the faces of Harry and Marv.
“Make sure you wear your ugliest Christmas sweater,” Pam told him after a sip from her mug.
“My what?” Jim said with a start.
“It’s one of our traditions. We all go out and try to find the ugliest Christmas sweater we can. Then at the party everyone drops ten bucks in a pot. As the evening goes on there’s a few rounds of voting to determine who has that year’s worst sweater. Winner takes the pot and the day after Christmas we donate the sweaters to a local charity.”
Jim could feel the skin around his neck starting to get warm at just the thought of a such an evening. Before he could say anything, Pam kept talking.
“I’m really looking forward to this year. Sorry to drag up the past a bit, but the few years that Roy did show up he never got into the spirit of the game. He just said his regular work sweater all stained with oil and stuff should count and always grumbled when it didn’t. So, this year I’m looking forward to what crazy sweater you, Mr. Prankmaster, will be able to pull out of your hat.”
“Yeah, it’ll be great.” Jim’s voice was small.
Pam looked up at him with concern. “You okay? I know it’s our first official Christmas together and all, but you’ve already met everyone who would be there. They all love you so it’s not like you need to impress anyone.”
“Yeah, no, I’m good. It’ll be fun.” Jim put a little more confidence in his voice.
“Oh good,” said Pam. She snuggled in closer to Jim and settled back to watch Kevin McCallister defend his home from the Wet Bandits.
The rest of the movie passed uneventfully. Jim continually raked his fingers through Pam’s hair which caused her to make contented purring sounds in the back of her throat. She ended up falling asleep on his shoulder just before the movie ended. Not feeling the need to wake her up, clean away their hot cocoa mugs, or move away from the couch, Jim carefully adjusted their position, so they were laying down and clicked off the TV. The only lights in the room came from warm glow of the white lights of his Christmas tree. He held Pam close and looked up at the tree that had a few recent additions thanks to Pam hanging some of her ornament collection on his tree. Knowing a decent amount of his own ornaments were on the tree gracing her apartment helped him to fall asleep next to the woman he loved.
The rest of the work week passed quickly as well. Jim had the good fortune to pull Dwight’s name for that year’s office Secret Santa drawing. Dwight’s face lit up with glee when he unwrapped a limited-edition model of a Viper starfighter from Battlestar Gallactica. When Jim revealed that he was the responsible party for the gift, Dwight spent a half hour inspecting the model for traps, pranks, bombs, or other hidden surprises. When none revealed themselves, Jim took great pride in the curt nod of respect Dwight sent his way.
“That was really sweet of you,” Pam told him with a smile after the Secret Santa circle broke up. She’d joined him at the reception desk and wove her fingers through his.
He grinned back at her. “Thanks. Figured I’d ease off for Christmas. After all, I want to make sure I stay on Santa’s nice list. What do you think of your gift?”
Pam held up the box she’d been given by Stanley that contained a variety of different tea. “Should be fun to explore. Sorry you didn’t get anything.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s Creed. I counted myself lucky to even get anything a couple years ago. Truth be told, I’d be wary of anything he did get me if he had remembered.”
“Soooo,” Pam started swinging his arm back and forth with a sing-song tone to her voice. “When are you going to tell me what’s going to be on your ugly sweater on Saturday.”
Internally, Jim froze. He took a sip of his drink to buy himself a minute to calm the nervousness that sprung up. “It’s a surprise! I just want you experience the full gory glory of the majesty of what I’ve come up with.”
Pam gave him an expectant look. “Oooh! Mysterious. Ok. Just make sure you keep it all covered up when you pick me up.”
“Deal,” he promised.
She stood up to kiss his cheek before departing to mingle with other people. A wave of relief washed over Jim as she walked away. Memories of the previous evening racing through various thrift stores looking for a suitable sweater flashed through his mind. It seemed the entire stock of ugly sweater in and around the Scranton area had been picked clean through. None of the shops he’d been though had a sweater that seemed to fit the bill. Plenty of monochromatic pieces with large cable knit patterns were on the racks. But nothing that would illicit a groan of dismay when someone looked at it. Tonight was his last chance to find something. Pam had told him she was going out with Penny and Izzy that night, so he had some free time. His plan was to swing through Steamtown Mall and see if Boscov’s had anything left in stock.
A few hours later found him putting said plan in motion. After parking his car in the garage under the mall, he took the escalator to the ground floor entrance outside the department store. Crowds of holiday shoppers filled the mall. Making his way to the men’s section he started looking through the racks. Three laps around the store later, his frustration was at a boiling point. He hadn’t found a single ugly sweater that would suit his needs. He’d even taken a jog through the women’s section on the second floor in desperation but to no avail. Holding his face in his hands in frustration, he walked out of the store backwards hoping to spot something.
“Oof! Hey! Careful!”
Jim had backed up right into a Salvation Army bellringer and the collision sent him sprawling to the floor.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Jim muttered. He tried to get up but got tangled in his overcoat and scarf.
“Here, let me help you.” The elderly bellringer held out a hand to assist Jim getting to his feet. “Are you okay?”
“Thanks, no. I’m not.” Jim briefly explained why he hadn’t been paying attention. “To top it all off, anytime I do see an ugly Christmas sweater they’ve all been 100% wool, but the kicker is I’ve been allergic to wool ever since I was a little kid.”
The bellringer had patiently listened to Jim’s story. He didn’t say anything as Jim finished speaking. Instead, he set his handbell down on the red collection kettle and untied the Salvation Army apron he was wearing. Setting that to the side, the bellringer took off the sweater he had been wearing and handed it to Jim. A white button-down shirt showed that the bellringer was appropriately layered for the winter.
“Here, take this one.”
Jim had been looking around for a moment. At the bellringer’s gesture he snapped his eyes back to the other man in shock. “What? No! I can’t do that!”
The bellringer just smiled at Jim and continued to hold out the sweater. “You need it more than I do. And it’s a cotton and polyester blend. One of my grandsons is also allergic to wool. Didn’t want him to have a reaction when he came crashing into us for hugs.”
“Are you sure?” Jim reached forward hesitantly.
“I’m sure,” the bellringer replied with twinkle in his eye. “Take a look at it. If that doesn’t win an ugly Christmas sweater competition, I don’t know what will.
Taking the sweater by the shoulders, Jim let it hang down to see the pattern knit into the fabric. At once he started laughing at the image. Once he got himself under control, he looked back at the bellringer who was putting his apron back on. “This is perfect. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just pay it forward,” the bellringer replied. “Do something big for a random person before the new year and we’ll call ourselves square.”
“You got it,” Jim said and reached out a hand to seal the deal with a handshake.
Pam showed up at his townhouse that night after her outing with her sister and friend. Once more she and Jim fell asleep on the couch after watching, A Muppet Christmas Carol. The lights of his Christmas tree glowed a little brighter that night without the sense of dread that had weighed down his heart on previous nights.
The next morning, after Pam had left for her apartment, he puttered around for a while tidying up. He cleared away the dishes that were threatening to tear a hole in the fabric of space-time. Clothes were dumped in a hamper to prevent a flood of dirty laundry. Finally, he ran his vacuum around the floor to stave off a dust bunny swarm. By the time he had the townhouse looking like it wouldn’t be declared a national disaster area, he was ready to head over to Pam’s apartment for the drive to her parents' house. Slipping his new sweater over his head, he pulled on his coat and got in his car.
Pam grinned at him when he knocked on her door and they walked back to his car. She was carrying a large dish of homemade spicy cranberry dip along with a big bag of pretzels that she handed to Jim. Along with the dip, she had a large tub of chocolate fudge she was also bringing to the party. She was already wearing her pink puffer coat while they walked to Jim’s car.
“The fudge turned out really good this year,” she beamed.
“Better than I could do,” he replied. “I picked up a couple meat and cheese trays.”
They debated the merits of various party potluck dishes during the ride to Archbald. Based on the number of cars in the driveway, they were among the last to arrive. Stepping inside they were met with a cacophony of sound and color.
“Pam! Jim! Glad you made it!” Helene walked up with a wide smile. She was wearing a sweater festooned with break dancing reindeer. “Let me take those off your hands.”
She whisked the trays away towards the kitchen where a host of other plates, crock pots, and serving bowls were laden with food. Jim looked around at the other sweaters of the Beesly clan. Garish snowflakes, Santas, trees, presents and stars abounded in the various patterns. By the fireplace a large bowl filled with money rested. He turned to see Pam taking off her coat to reveal her own knitted monstrosity. A large image of Santa in sunglasses adorned her sweater. Multicolored lights blinked on and off in his beard. She looked over at him eagerly.
“Time to show us what you got.”
Jim only smiled. He took her coat and turned away to before unzipping his coat and tossing them on the pile of outerwear by the door. Behind him he heard a hush in Pam’s voice as she read the small words on the back of his sweater.
“Yippie Ki Yay? No, you didn’t!”
Grinning ear to ear Jim turned around to show off his entry. At once the party grew silent as people beheld his outfit. It was William who broke the silence with a grin on his face.
“Welcome to the party pal.”
The top half of Jim’s sweater was black. Red and yellow flames filled up the bottom half. Up the center spotlights illuminated Nakatomi Plaza. The top floors of the skyscraper were wreathed in an explosion.
“You know the best part of this sweater?” Jim asked Pam who had a look of awe on her face.
“It has pockets?” she guessed.
He let out a laugh and kissed her on the top of her head. “No, it’s mainly cotton so it’s great for a guy like me who’s allergic to wool.”
Pam shook her head to clear the slight daze she’s found herself in and smiled lovingly at Jim. “Dork.”
To no one’s surprise, Jim’s sweater was voted as that year’s favorite. Jim walked away from the White Elephant exchange with a mini cast iron griddle that had the ingredients and recipe for large chocolate chip cookies. Pam came home with souvenir coffee mug from Niagra Falls that had been passed around the Beesly family at Christmas for years. In honor of Jim’s victory, they put Die Hard into the DVD player when they returned to Jim’s townhouse after the party. Pam couldn’t hide a yawn once the movie ended. She turned to face Jim since they’d stretched out the couch.
“Thank you for getting into this whole sweater thing with my family. It really does mean a lot.”
“You’re very welcome. It was fun.”
“Merry Christmas Jim,” she smiled at him.
“Merry Christmas Pam,” he returned with his own gently smile.
He tilted his head down to kiss her and she quickly reciprocated his affections. Later, they fell asleep in each other's arms. Their sweaters ended up in a part of the pile on the floor with the rest of their clothing, illuminated by the lights of Jim’s Christmas tree.
