Three Months (I Need You So Much Closer)

The silence isn't breaking

Backwashed and stranded memories

Of something I thought could be 

*

December

It takes her a couple weeks to realize she's lonely. And of course, now is the worst time to be lonely, because of all the cheery, family-filled holiday commercials that she makes faces at when they dare to come on her television or the jingles on the radio which make her promptly change the station. She's even avoided going shopping too much, because she doesn't know if she can take another rendition of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" without breaking down in the middle of some outlet mall.

It's nice having Jim back, but it's not what she expected. She can't remember if there was ever a time where she hesitated to call Jim a "friend," if not her "best friend," but now she certainly has her doubts. She knows it will take time for things to really be "normal," if that even applies in their situation, but it's harder than that.

Watching Jim and Karen, she starts to understand why it took Jim so long to tell her about his feelings. When she heard about Jim coming back, she kept having all these ideas about how she was going to tell him, or how he would find out how she felt, but now she's lucky to catch a glance from him during the day. That makes the loneliness more palpable, because she has him there, but she knows he is no longer hers. Instead, she watches the subtle smiles and touches Jim and Karen share and somehow remembers to breathe.

Sometimes they all end up in the break room and Karen asks her to come out for drinks with them. Karen can't see it, but Pam notices Jim's eyebrows rise or his eyes widen, just a little. It doesn't matter, because she always declines, saying she has art class or dinner with her sister, when in actuality, most nights, she returns home, zaps a frozen dinner in the microwave, and thinks about drawing until it's eight and she can lose herself in the fictional problems and people on television.

The price of her art classes is going up next semester, and with her car payments and rent, she isn't sure if she's going to register for spring. The community college doesn't offer many advanced classes anyway, and she doesn't want to be one of those middle aged students who keep taking Drawing IV and the only thing they get to perfect is a sketch of boxes. She's already remade herself once this year, and now she wonders if she has to do it all over again so soon.

It scares her a little that Jim is changing too. She thinks about moving sometimes, just a fleeting thought as she cleans the kitchen or folds laundry, but she realizes how big a pain that would be. Moving across town is one thing, but relocating would involve job hunting and apartment hunting and meeting new people. She imagines moving to New York or Boston, but all those scenarios involve Jim coming with her.

If being with Jim at work is hard, being around Karen is almost harder. Pam can see she would have an easy ally in Karen—she recognizes the loneliness in Karen's face whenever she refuses an invitation—but she can't let Karen in. It's been so long since Pam has had a girlfriend (Kelly doesn't count), someone she could let her guard down with and get tipsy off too much wine and talk about boys and bad sex and laugh until her sides hurt. Most of her girlfriends are old college buddies who are already married and who all but disappeared when the wedding was cancelled.

She realizes she had tried to use Jim as a replacement for all these things and she's ashamed at how thoughtless it had been of her to complain about Roy. Being friends and accomplices and making each other laugh was one thing, but now it embarrasses Pam to think about how easily she had aired her dirty laundry with Jim. He hardly ever talked about the girls he dated. Of course, it became effortless, she realizes, because he was so sympathetic and understanding and could always tell when something was bothering her. "Spill it, Beesly," he used to say.

*

Her old sleeping habits come back to haunt her as well. For a couple months leading up to the wedding-that-never-happened, she slept terribly. It got worse after casino night, and ever since she'd heard that Stamford was merging with Scranton, her problems returned. Her brain refuses to shut off, her pillow isn't fluffy enough and she keeps alternating between being too hot and too cold. The loud vibrations of her cell phone charging at her desk make her sit up and crawl across her bed to answer it. Her heart jumps when she recognizes the number. "Hello?" At first, all she can hear is an indistinct murmuring of voices and laughter, but after a moment, the noise gets quieter.

"Hey." He says and she shivers slightly, rubbing her legs.

"Uh, hi. What are you—are you okay?"

"For the most part. I sort of got dragged out tonight by um, MichaelandAndy," he says quickly.

"Wait. You're out with Michael? Please tell me Dwight's there too," she giggles.

"No, it's Wednesday. He stayed home to watch <i>Lost</i>."

"Right. Of course."

"Sorry. I didn't realize what time—did I wake you?" His voice lowers a little and Pam lets her eyes flutter close for a second, imagining him with her.

"No," she stutters. "Couldn't sleep." She shifts, turning on the light and he clears his throat. "Sorry. Why did you call?"

"Oh, well, uh, I guess I just thought you would understand this hell better than anyone else."

She feels the smile spread across her face. "How drunk is Michael?"

"Oh, gosh, I don't know. He was hitting on anything that moved when we came in, but oddly alcohol seems to revert him to being five years old."

"Which is different from when he's sober how?"

Jim chuckles. "Good point, Beesly."

"Jim…" She starts, but Jim suddenly sounds like he's in the middle of a crowd of rowdy teenagers and she waits for the noise to clear.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "It's some girl's birthday. What were you saying?"

"Oh, I don't—nothing important."

"I probably shouldn't have called. I can let you go."

"No! I mean, I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You guys don't need a ride home or anything, do you?" She flinches for not letting the moment last.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm sober Steve tonight."

"Oh, well, good."

"I'll see you tomorrow though. Bye, Pam."

"Yeah. Tomorrow." She whispers as she hangs up.

*

She starts looking at community colleges a little farther away and she finds a continued education program in Dunmore. They have watercolor and drawing concentrations. A ceramics class sounds fun, too. Suddenly she doesn't care about the cost, because she remembers how much she loves to lay out all her freshly sharpened pencils or mix paints together on a palette.

She gets Karen for Secret Santa and wonders if it would be inappropriate to buy her a bottle of wine. Instead, when Karen comes in the break room to buy a drink, Pam asks her if she's free on Sunday.

"Yeah, I think so," Karen nods.

"Well, if you want, I thought maybe we could get together for drinks or something. Just girls."

"Okay," Karen smiles. "That would be good."

Sunday at seven, she pulls up to the sushi place not far from her apartment and finds Karen already ensconced at the bar. "Hey. I wasn't sure if we were going the sake route or just sticking to beer."

"Whatever you want." Karen orders her and Pam two Asahi beers and they fall into talking about the office. Karen mentions that she's been asking Phyllis about knitting, but was overwhelmed when she went to the craft store to buy yarn. She asks about Pam's art classes, but Pam just blushes and says she might be changing schools in January. Inevitably though, the conversation turns to guys.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Karen asks.

She shakes her head. "No. I was actually supposed to get married this summer, but--" She shrugs. "It didn't work out."

"Oh," Karen's eyes widen. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, I broke it off. I wasn't happy."

"So you're happy now?" Karen asks.

She nods. "For the most part. I'm taking art classes, which is something I love. Work is work," Karen laughs. "But it's not too bad. I mean, it's nice to have new people come in."

"Okay, now I know you're lying. Andy is Mr. Super Ego and Hannah is obsessed with her kid. I guess you knew Jim pretty well before, though."

"Yeah, we were really good friends."

"He seems pretty sane," Karen nods, but Pam doesn't miss the small smile before she takes a sip of her beer.

"He's a nice guy," she agrees.

*

She buys Karen some yarn and a pair of blue knitting needles for her Secret Santa gift. It's a little over twenty dollars with tax, but Pam figures no one will notice.

Since Jim's been back, Pam usually avoids eating lunch in the break room unless everyone else is there, because she doesn't want to run into Karen and Jim eating together. So one day she ventures back to the break room and is surprised when she finds Jim eating alone.

"Where's Karen?" She asks before she can catch herself.

"Huh?"

"Karen. I just, noticed you two usually eat together." She turns to study the snacks in the snack machine so she doesn't have to watch him.

"Oh, uh, I think she went out to lunch or something." Pam decides she feels like orange soda today and the can clanks as it falls down out of the machine. "She told me you two went out last weekend."

"Oh." She falters. "Yeah. Hey listen," she turns on her heel to face him. "If it's too weird that we're hanging out, I mean—"

"What? Why would it be weird?" Jim stops studying his carrot sticks and frowns up at her.

She sighs. "Because you're dating her."

"Oh, Pam," he breathes. "It's not—you know what, it doesn't matter. I'm not going to tell you who to hang out with."

"Well, okay," she says slowly, curious about what Jim started to say. She tries to think of a way to change the subject, but her hand is getting cold from the soda can, so she walks back to her desk.

He comes out of the break room a couple minutes later, his head down as he approaches her desk. "Hey," he says softly.

"What?" She won't look up, staring straight ahead at her computer screen.

"I'm sorry for being so snappy."

"It's just—this hasn't been the easiest thing…" She blinks rapidly, trying to will away the tears blurring her vision.

"I know." His voice is low, almost a whisper. She can see his hands start to move towards her, but he stops, shoving them in his pockets instead. "Can we talk?"

She bites her lip. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Okay." For once she's glad he's not sitting at his old desk anymore.

*

She makes it through the stupid Christmas party at work. She doesn't stay long, slipping out after the food. She's actually excited about the holidays, but only because she plans on spending them far away from work and Scranton. She has managed to save up her remaining sick and vacation days so she can spend about a week at her parents'. The next morning she's up making coffee, leaning against the counter in the kitchen as she chews on a bagel when she hears her phone ringing. Figuring it's just her mom checking in on what time she's leaving, she answers it without even looking. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Oh, hey. What's up?" She tries to be casual, biting her lip.

"Just calling to wish you happy holidays. You slipped out of the party yesterday before I could tell you to have a good trip."

"Oh, well, thanks. You too. I mean, have a good Christmas and all that."

"Are you driving?"

"Not yet. Are you on your way to work?"

"Yep. I wonder who Michael will assign to answer the phones. Ryan will refuse."

"I bet Dwight volunteers."

Jim chuckles and she plays with the luggage tag on her suitcase. "How much do you want to bet, Beesly?"

"Umm, a bag of York peppermint patties."

"What are you? Fifty?"

"No," she laughs. "I just like them."

"Okay." He agrees, before he tells her again to have a nice trip and hangs up. He sends her a text message later: You win, Beesly.