Disclaimer: Not my characters. And neither is Dora the Explorer, for that matter.
Seats Five
“Question. As assistant manager…”
“To the,” Jim corrected.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to sit in the front?” asked Dwight.
Michael had announced after lunch that he would be showing Ryan the sales guy ropes; he had decided to also take along Jim and Dwight for a “refresher course.” Pam somehow had also been roped into going along, since Michael had felt this event would be momentous enough to require note taking.
They had moved to their own cars in the parking lot, but Michael had insisted that they all ride with him. It was no surprise that Ryan ended up slumped in the front seat, while Dwight, Pam and Jim were crammed into the back: boy, girl, boy.
“It’s just that this seat wasn’t made for a person of my size. The temp would fit better,” continued Dwight.
“That’s what she said!” Michael snorted.
Jim rolled his eyes, and lifted his right arm so Pam could move away from Dwight. She fitted in next to him, hip to hip, with his arm draped over her shoulder. To keep her knees together, she moved both her feet to Jim’s side, and their shoes lined up like they were in the bottom of a well-organized closet. She was glad to get some space between herself and Dwight; he had been pointedly holding his arm across his chest so they wouldn’t touch, as though the two of them were eight and he was afraid of cooties.
Jim, on the other hand, seemed as unconcerned as if they were sitting side-by-side in the break room. His hand was loosely curled on her shoulder, and when he leaned to say something she could feel his lips brush her hair. Whenever Michael stopped suddenly, his hand would tighten on her arm. Her mom used to do that.
Pam looked down at Jim’s left hand, resting palm down in his lap.
“What’s this?” she asked, brushing his knuckles with her fingers. He must have had his hands in his pockets earlier; she usually noticed things like that with him.
“Ah, that. Mark and I were putting up some shelves, and I cut myself with the hacksaw. I was out of band aids.”
“I think I have some in my purse, from when we took Roy’s nephew to the park.” She searched her purse. “Yeah, here we go.”
She carefully took his hand and smoothed the band aid across his knuckles.
“Dora the Explorer?” Jim looked at the band aid and flexed his hand, to see if it would stay.
“Sammy likes the little monkey. I’ll get you some SpongeBob the next time I’m at the store.”
Taking his hand, she turned it over and fitted her palm to his.
“Look at you! Now I know who to call when I need the pickles from the bottom of the jar.”
“Okay. I’m your man for the pickle jar.”
“Listen, you should call us the next time you have a job like the shelves. Roy has a garage full of power tools you could borrow.”
“Yeah, sure….I’ll remember to do that.”
He turned to look out the window, tucking his bandaged hand between his leg and the door, and only looked back to smile when Pam whispered a joke about Michael dropping them off first, so he could have a chance to get to second base with Ryan.
Author's Chapter Notes:
It started out squishy Jam, but... changed.
ElizabethLynn is the author of 11 other stories.
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