Amen.

"May God bless all of you and your families on this holy day.  Merry Christmas," the priest smiled, "Go in peace."

Pam stood at the back of the church, her father and mother beside her in the pew.  She watched the rows and rows of people exit from the front and up the aisle.  Many smiled and spoke hurried greetings to her parents. A little girl in a frilly, white dress with at least two petticoats walked down the aisle, rubbing her sleepy eyes.  Pam remembered being that age and loving to get dressed up for midnight mass, only to fall asleep in her father's lap. 

She noticed him a few rows down.  He had an older woman on his arm who looked as though she had been beautiful once, though her eyes seemed hollow now.  When he reached her pew he simply smiled while putting on his hat, "Merry Christmas, Miss Beesly."

And before she could wish him the same he was out the doors.  Her mother clutched her arm as they turned to exit the pew.  "Pamela, who was that man?"

"That was my boss, mother."  Pam told her, searching her mother's face for any signs of an upcoming scolding.

She leaned forward so Mr. Beesly couldn't hear, "He's very handsome." Mrs. Beesly smiled.

. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .

"Oh Daddy, it's wonderful!" she cried as she examined the box of her beautiful new sewing machine. 

Ever since Pam was a child it had been a tradition in her family to open one present after mass.  When she was a girl, it was like a reward for sitting through mass quietly and not falling asleep.  And even though she was older and could now stay awake easily, it was still something she looked forward to and wasn't willing to give up.  This year she chose the biggest package, as always.

She rose to kiss her father on the cheek.  

"It's the best one on the market, or so the man told me." He grinned, his pipe held firmly in his teeth.

"Thank you, Daddy," she smiled.

"Of course." He rose from his chair, "I'm going to turn in.  You girls don't stay up too late."

"Merry Christmas, darling." Mrs. Beesly said, placing her teacup on the coffee table.

Pam was sitting on the floor next to the tree, her skirt spread around her knees.  The new hat her father had gotten her for this evening had been laid carefully on the table, along with her favorite white gloves.  She ran her hand over the top of the sewing machine box, her mind dreaming up all the things she wanted to make.

"It's quite a present, isn't it dear?"

"Oh yes," Pam sighed.

"Pamela." Mrs. Beesly said, her tone changing.  "Your father and I would like you to come back and live at home."

For the first time in ten minutes Pam peeled her eyes off her new toy, "Why?"

"It is inappropriate for a single woman your age to be living alone."

"I'm not single, mother.  Roy and I are engaged."

Gloria Beesly tried to suppress her scoff.  "Pamela, you will be twenty-three in May.  I had already been married for six years when I was twenty-three."  She was about to start ranting but then she saw the hurt in her daughter's eyes.  "Don't you want all of this, Pamela?  Don't you want a house with a room to sew in?  Roy, he can't give you that.  I don't think he wants to."

"What do you mean?"  She knew what her mother meant.  Pam had lived a privileged life.  Sure they weren't wealthy, but her father had always provided them with everything they needed, and there was always a bit left over for the things they wanted.

"Pamela, you've been with Roy for almost seven years.  If he wanted to marry you, don't you think he would have by now?"

Pam knew it was true.  Every word of it.  Her parents had never really approved of Roy, tolerated him, maybe.  She knew they had probably just assumed it wouldn't last.

"Do you love him?"

Pam put her head in her hands, "I've been with him for seven years."

"But do you love him?"

"I have to, don't I? After all this time?" she felt tears pricking at her eyes, "Oh, mother I'm just so mixed up!"

"Just because you've been with someone a long time doesn't mean you have to stay with him forever.  I understand you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  You're a kind woman and I am thankful to have such a wonderful daughter."  She reached forward to lift Pam's chin, "But you need to do what makes you happy."

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The next afternoon, after all the presents had been opened Pam and her mother were preparing dinner in the kitchen.

"Pamela," her mother said closing the oven, "That boss of yours..."

"Mr. Halpert."

"Yes, do you think he has any plans this evening?"

Pam fidgeted with the spoon in her hand, "I'm really not sure.  But mother it's Christmas.  I'm sure he has plans."

"You should invite him to dinner."

"Mother no."

"He can have Roy's place at the table...since he's working.  Such a shame, working on Christmas."

"It just seems inappropriate.  He's my boss." Pam fidgeted, "I don't even know him that well." She lied.

"It doesn't hurt to be friendly.  Perhaps just dessert?" Pam tried to protest but Gloria raised her eyebrows in that motherly way and Pam had no choice but to listen.  And she'd thought about their conversation all night.  Maybe she was ready to take a chance on something.

. : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : . : .

It had been one of the worst Christmases in years.

Mrs. Halpert was having a terrible day.  Screaming and yelling at Jim and a few people who weren't even there.  The doctors told him last month that her mental state was deteriorating quickly.  Her hallucinations were more prevalent and her memory was almost zero.  Jim decided to hire a nurse after the holidays. He just couldn't let her stay home alone any longer.

This morning he'd woken up when he heard her call down the hall, "Joe! Jimmy! Robert! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

When she'd realized that there was no tree or presents, she'd lost it-worse than usual.

Jim was sitting in the living room, trying not to listen to her scream in the bedroom, "Phillip, how dare you! It's Christmas and the boys don't have any presents!"

The phone rang on the wall just as she started to wail for him, "James! James I need you!"

He ran to the kitchen to grab the telephone, "Hello?" he asked in a rushed voice.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Halpert.  This is Pam by the way.  Pam Beesly." She sputtered nervously. Gosh was she adorable.

"JAMES!"

"Hi Pam." He huffed, tapping his fingers nervously on the countertop.

"I was just wondering, if you don't have any plans...My mother would like you to join us for dinner this evening."

He heard glass breaking down the hall.

"I'm sorry Pam, I can't." There was a sharp click as he slammed the receiver down, leaving Pam stunned and heartbroken on the other line.

So much for taking chances.