When Holly awoke this morning, she felt a sense of abandonment—she felt cold. Of course AJ’s side of the bed was empty. Of course it was. She had become so used to waking up by his side everyday for the last ten years, and now, he was sleeping on the living room sofa. So of course she felt abandoned.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Holly had asked yesterday evening as they were driving home from the clinic. Why was she even asking him if he wanted to talk about it? He should be the one comforting her!

“No,” AJ grumbled. He pulled his hand away from Holly’s. “I don’t know what we should do, Holly…”

“We move past it,” said Holly, staring out of the passenger side window—trying to calm her breathing.

“It’s just…I don’t know,” AJ sighed. “I thought having a kid would fix things, and now you can’t have one.”

“I know you always wanted a kid, and so did I, but how would having a baby fix things?” asked Holly, feeling slightly stung.

“I always wanted one,” said AJ, his fingers tensing on the steering wheel. “And I waited for years so that you could get your career that you wanted for so long. Now you can’t have one.”

Quit saying that… thought Holly.

“You’re saying that I took too much time to get where I wanted, and that’s why I’m infertile?” asked Holly. She was trying really hard to keep her cool, but it was proving to be difficult.

“Maybe I am,” said AJ.

What the fuck kind of name was AJ for a grown man? What is he? Twelve?

“I want a divorce,” he said after a couple moments of silence. “It’s obvious that we’re not happy. At least I know that I’m not happy with you.”

Holly examined herself in the mirror. She wasn’t unattractive. In fact, for a thirty-eight year old woman, she wasn’t so bad. Sure, in the last couple of years, she had gotten some wrinkles here and there, but…she wasn’t bad. Her eyes were hazel, her hair blonde. She was fair skinned, and she liked to think that she had a kind smile. She works out, does yoga, and some low impact cardio routines. She’s fit for a woman of her age. So then why the fuck was she infertile?

“Screw it,” she grumbled, twisting her hair into a bun. Without meaning to, she slammed the bathroom door loudly.

“God damn it!” she heard AJ crying downstairs. “Keep it the fuck down!”

Holly bit the tip of her tongue in order to keep from shouting out a retort. She hurried across the hall into her bedroom. When she pulled open her closet, she looked into a mass of grey, black, white, taupe, and dark blue blouses and skirts. She had to wear neutral colors. She had to be in the background while her patients sobbed about their financial issues, divorces, and their prime years. Sighing, she decided to go with a grey blouse and a black skirt today.

“I’m going to stay at a motel till we get this shit figured out,” AJ said when Holly came downstairs. “Just thought I should let you know…”

“Fine,” Holly huffed.

She grabbed her coat out of the closet by the front door, and left the house before AJ could say another word.

*****
“Good morning, Holly!” a voice called from behind Holly in the elevator. Holly jumped up in surprise. She hadn’t noticed the child psychiatrist from her floor when she had walked in.

“Oh, morning, Dr. Scott,” said Holly, attempting a smile.

“I’ve asked you like a million times to call me Michael,” he grinned.

There was something about this man’s grin that reminded Holly of a child. Also, sometimes when he spoke, he sounded like a child. Perhaps that’s why he became a child psychiatrist. Holly didn’t know much about Michael other then that he was very good at his job. Or it seemed that way. Although his office was down the hall from Holly’s, she would always hear him making the children laugh.

“I’m sorry,” said Holly. “Good morning, Michael.”

“Rough night?” he asked. “You just look a little tired, so…”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep,” replied Holly.

“I see…big date with AJ?”

“Um…no. It’s more like a big fight with AJ,” she blurted out. Michael suddenly looked concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Holly shook her head.

“It’s fine, really. Everyone goes through marital strains.”

“Well, uh…” Michael began digging through his briefcase. “Would you like a Mini Mounds Bar?”

Holly gave Michael a quizzical look.

“I usually give them to my patients,” he explained.

“Um…thank you,” smiled Holly, taking the candy.

“No problem. If you ever need to talk…I’m only a couple of doors away.”

“Thank you Dr. Sc—I mean Michael,” said Holly, walking to the reception desk. “Well, this is me, so…”

“Right-O!” Michael grinned. “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” said Holly, watching Michael swagger into his office. She turned to Phyllis, Holly’s receptionist. “Morning, Phyllis. Any messages?”

“No,” Phyllis replied. “You have a new patient waiting in your office.”

“Oh, shit,” said Holly, remembering that she had an early appointment today. “What time is it?”

“9:30. Mr. Flenderson has an appointment at 9:45.”

“Right,” said Holly. “Listen, Phyllis, when Mr. Flenderson comes in today, tell him that I’m out sick, and that I’m sorry. Tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow at 1:00, can you?”

“Yes, Dr. Flax,” smiled Phyllis.

“Also, when Mister…uh…”

“Halpert. James Halpert,” finished Phyllis.

“Yes, when Mr. Halpert called last week, did he say why he needed an appointment other than a meet and greet?”

“No, I just penciled him in…”

“Right,” said Holly. “Well, I should get going. Thank you Phyllis.”

Holly rushed into her office.

“Good morning, Mr. Halpert, I apologize—” she paused when she saw him. Her immediate thoughts were that he was a drug addict looking for uppers. He was dangerously thin and pale. His gigantic right hand was shaking severely. “…for my being late…”

“One moment, please,” said Jim, his eyes shut, breathing heavily.

“Mr. Halpert? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I just need a moment,” he replied shakily. “Okay, I’m sorry about that…”

“That’s fine,” said Holly, slightly confused. “Once again, I’m sorry that I’m late.”

“Not a problem…”

Holly walked behind her desk and sat. She gave Jim a tight lipped smile, and he smiled back crookedly. He was tall and had unruly brown hair. She noticed that he looked…dead behind the eyes. There was hardly any sign of emotion in them.

“My name is Dr. Holly Huebel,” said Holly. “Would you like to tell me why we’re here today?”

“A meet and greet…”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Aren’t you supposed to show off all of your fancy degrees and awards?” asked Jim. “And go on about how you know that you’ll be able to help me through my problems?”

Holly frowned. Today was the worst day for some smart ass, drug addict patient.

“I can’t promise you that I could help you through your problems if you don’t tell me what they are,” she said.

“What do you think my problem is?” Jim asked. “Judging by my looks. You know, if we were on a date, what would your first impression of me be?”

“I can’t say…that’s…”

“Because the first impression that you left me is that you used to be a fun loving girl,” said Jim. “And now, you’re married to your job. You’re probably sick of it. But you still bring your job home, and now you barely have a social life. Judging by your appearance, you go to the gym at the end of the day. Probably take some yoga classes. And…judging by the way you walk with your back straight, you want to show people that you’re independent. Yet you hunch your shoulders like you’re carrying the weight of the world. That probably means that you have something that you want to say, but you don’t because you’re proud. You also seem like the type of person who tries to keep distance from patients, all the while, lying through your teeth that you’re their friend…”

Holly stared at Jim, trying to hide the shocked look on her face. She didn’t know whether she was shocked or offended.

“You got all of that, within the first minute of meeting me?”

“I read people,” he smiled smugly. “It’s like a sixth sense. So let’s have it, Doctor, what’s your first impression of me?”

“Well…” said Holly, knowing that this was inappropriate on many levels.

“And be honest please.”

“Fine,” she said, scanning her new patient. She paused for a moment, and without even thinking she said, “Drug addict. I think that’s why you’re here to be honest. And to tell you the truth, normally, I wouldn’t be this forward. Normally, I would dance around this subject for a couple of appointments. But I don’t really care right now because I had a bad night. I think you’re a drug addict. Heroine, judging by your facial ticks and your constant hand twitches. You’re probably here for uppers, and I’m just going to say this to you now, because I am not in the mood for dealing with liars. I don’t prescribe medication. I am a psychologist, not a psychiatrist.”

“You are way off, lady,” laughed Jim, clearly not offended. It seemed as though to him, this was a game. “Actually, I have a brain tumor.”

Holly was taken aback. Firstly, she had not expected that, although she should have known. Secondly, Jim’s tone was so nonchalant, as if everyone gets a brain tumor in their lives. Thirdly, she felt terrible at her quick assumption that he was an addict.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry…”

“Naw…don’t be. It’s not everyday you meet a guy with a tumor,” said Jim, shrugging.

“No, really…I’ve just been in a funk this morning,” Holly admitted. “So you’re here for a psych evaluation?”

“No,” replied Jim. “The tumor doesn’t really affect my personality. I get headaches and some minor seizures, but it doesn’t cloud my judgment. Nausea, blurred visions…but at least I know who I am. No behavioral changes or anything. Actually, I’m here because my brother’s been begging me to see one of you people for about a year.”

“I see,” said Holly, grabbing a notepad. “Is your tumor inoperable?”

“No.”

“Bad health insurance?”

“No.”

“Do you even have health insurance?”

“Yes.”

Jim let out another laugh.

“I’ll make this easier for you,” he said. “I don’t want the operation, so of course, my brother’s freaking out. He thinks I might be suicidal. But if I was suicidal, you’d think that I would have killed myself a long time ago.”

“Oh,” said Holly, feeling slightly embarrassed. She was way off her game this morning. “Why don’t you want an operation?”

“That’s a long story,” replied Jim. “One that I’ll tell you once we get to know each other better. So the reason I decided to come here today, after getting nagged by my brother for a year, is because…”

For the first time, she saw that Jim’s eyes showed some emotion—sadness.

“Listen, to tell you the truth,” he started. “I miss talking to people. I miss talking about something that’s not tumor related. And I would try to make new friends, but like you said, I look like some junkie, so that doesn’t help. So I figured: I pay you two-hundred bucks an hour and we could just talk. It saves me getting arrested for talking to hookers.”

Jim smiled at his own joke. Holly let out a reluctant laugh.

“Truthfully, Mr. Halpert,” she sighed. “I don’t know what I could do for you…”

“Isn’t it your job to listen?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“And wouldn’t you actually like to make a new friend?” Jim smiled. “Talk about your own problems, and get paid for it at the same time? I’ve got the money…”

“It’s not about the money,” Holly said. “My job is to analyze people’s behavior. It’s not to make friends.”

“Aw, come on, Dr. Huebel. I’m actually very charming when you get to know me.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Holly, thinking that Jim was an arrogant ass. “But I could get into a lot of trouble.”

“What’s life without a bit of risk? Plus, just keep my files on the down low. My brother won’t bother you either. I’ll just show him my bills,” said Jim, suddenly pleading. “Please…I just…you don’t know how it is to be some charity case. It’s like I’m not even me anymore. To other people, I’m Jim—the tumor guy. I miss just talking about something that isn’t about my fucking tumor. Excuse my French…”

Something came over Holly. She didn’t know if it was pity, or anger, or recklessness. She felt that she understood what the guy was going through, even though she had endured nothing remotely close to his situation. What would it be like if all of a sudden, you’re just a charity case to your friends and family? If the only thing they wanted to talk to you about was your tumor. Then she put herself in Jim’s situation. Pretty soon, her friends, her parents, would find out that she was unable to conceive. They would bother her for years about that. She could already hear her friend Kelly saying, “You should adopt a baby from Africa or Asia! All the hipsters are doing it!” She shuddered at the thought of all the fake sympathy that she would receive.

And talking to this Jim Halpert guy wouldn’t be such a bad thing would it? Maybe he’d understand what she was going through…god, sometimes she thinks crazy things. But it really wasn’t going against the norm. She would listen to him top. Perhaps maybe even convince him to have this operation…she would almost be a hero. If that happened, maybe her job would have an actual meaning…maybe she’ll get the feeling of accomplishment.

“Fine,” she said after a moment. “If anyone finds out, like your family, then I’ll be really mad…”

Jim laughed, and Holly followed. She realized that that was the first time she joked in…gosh, about a month.

“Have you lived in Scranton your whole life?” Holly figured she’d start off with a basic question.

“No, I grew up in Portland. Oregon,” he added. “My wife and I moved here from Chicago because she got a job over at West Scranton High. She was an art teacher and choir instructor.”

“I see. So are things with your wife going well at least?”

“Well, the thing is,” said Jim, looking heartbroken. “She died. Not quite sure I know you well enough to share that story…”

“I understand,” said Holly. “Um...”

“Do you want to know how we got engaged?” asked Jim, squinting down at the wedding band on his finger. “I miss telling that story…”

“Sure,” smiled Holly, putting her notepad in her drawer.

*****
There was a small lake that wasn’t too far from my house. It was more like a private reservoir, actually, my neighborhood’s water supply. Sure, it was man-made, but…there was a certain beauty about it that I can’t explain. Pam and I would sneak in every Saturday night. We would get a thrill as I helped her climb over the fence. And every Saturday night, we would sit at the base, staring out into the black water that reflected the moonlight. We would usually sit in silence, drinking in the peacefulness of this lake. It was our spot.

On a particular Saturday evening sometime in December, the lake was frozen. We still sat at the edge, the cold win piercing the exposed flesh of our faces, listening to Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros from my iPod.

The moonlight reflected off of the snow on the ground, illuminating Pam’s creamy skin, and the pink blush of her cheeks. Her hazel eyes were closed as the wind gently blew about her auburn hair. The sweet smell pierced my nostrils pleasantly, as her body swayed gracefully with the music. I have never seen anything so beautiful…never experienced a moment as beautiful as this. I reached into my coat, my fingers searching for the velvet box that I had since the week after we started dating. I clutched the box tightly, hiding it in my hand. With my left hand, I took her right. My thumb brushed gently against her cold knuckles, and I yearned to warm them. She slowly opened her eyes, and they met mine. Her lips curved into the smile that I had fallen in love with so long ago.

“What?” she asked, beaming.

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” I replied.

“Really? Even when I’m all red and blotchy from the cold, and have a runny nose?”

“Especially when you have a runny nose,” I laughed. “There’s nothing more sexy than a girl sniffling throughout a good song.”

“Shut up, you jerk,” laughed Pam, bumping her shoulder into me.

“Will you marry me, Pam?” I asked, bringing the velvet box out into the open for her to see. She looked down at the ring, then up at me; her eyes open wide in shock.

“Oh my god…” she breathed.

“So…?” My heart was pounding hard in anticipation. I began to wonder if Pam could hear it.

“Of course! Yes!” she cried happily.

*****
“…then we made out,” finished Jim, smiling.

Holly now saw that his cold, dead eyes from before had disappeared. Now they were warm…his happy memory bringing the life back into them. But something told her that as she eventually gets to know more about Jim, not every story that he will tell will have happy endings.

It was the same routine day after day: wake up, brush hair, brush teeth, apply make up, twist hair into bun, pick out a neutral colored outfit, drive to work, talk to a patient, lunch break, talk to another patient, yoga or cardio, go home, microwave TV dinner, go over notes, take shower or bath, sleep, and repeat. Even before the split with AJ, that was always the routine. Sometimes sex would be thrown in, but that was rare.

When Holly thinks back, she remembers her old self. The Holly that had always cracked childish immature jokes, did terrible imitations of Jon Lovitz, watched old Monty Python movies, and genuinely cared about people. But after seven years of school, a year of being an intern, and a year and a half of working at the county hospital, she had changed. AJ would do his best to adapt to these changes, and when Holly does take the time to think about it, she realizes that it’s her fault that their marriage failed.

So that’s why she sticks to the same routine everyday—to keep her mind off of reality.

Holly rummaged through her notepad for her Thursday patients. Toby Flenderson, a man who left the seminary to marry who he thought was his true love, only to be cheated on. Did he show any progress?

No progress made, she wrote. Suggest taking a vacation to somewhere he had always wanted to go.

She turned the page, and she read Jim Halpert’s name. She hadn’t taken any notes that day, but she remembers him quite clearly. He was the guy with the brain tumor. Just how severe that tumor is, she didn’t know yet. Jim would dodge certain questions, so he could be in denial. Who knows? He’s a new patient…but not really. Holly remembered how quickly he had read her, and how nearly accurate he was in his description of her. She also recalled how his eyes lit up when he talked about his wife. Yet, he still dodged certain questions about her.

Brain tumor. Try not to pry. Widower. Ask questions about happy memories. Possible mind reader. Wear an aluminum foil helmet.

*****
Every morning, Michael Scott would greet her in the elevator. She had a hunch that he was hiding behind the entrance door every morning, waiting for her to arrive. But that didn’t matter. The truth is, Holly liked Michael Scott. He reminded her of how she used to be so many years ago. So in their brief two minute elevator rides (it was an old building) every morning, Holly would find herself laughing with Michael. And laughter was what she needed right now.

When she arrived to her office, Phyllis would give her the memos, she’d walk to the coffee pot, and get herself a cup of coffee. This was her life.

So on Thursday afternoon (Mr. Flenderson insisted that he keep his morning spot), when she met with Jim for the second time, she found herself to feel relieved. Jim was different from her other patients, only because he really wasn’t a patient. Holly didn’t know how severe his tumor was, but she decided that she was fulfilling a dying man’s wish. She would be his friend. And Lord knows, Holly needs some new friends…

At precisely 1:25, Phyllis buzzed Holly’s phone.

“Mr. Halpert is here to see you.”

“Send him in,” said Holly, feeling as if she should add a thank you. But Phyllis had already hung up the phone.

Jim Halpert walked into Holly’s bland, neutral colored office. Holly noticed that he was wearing an Oasis t-shirt.

“Hello, Mr. Halpert,” she said. Jim gave her a crooked smile as he sat down.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Huebel.”

“It’s actually Flax,” Holly corrected. Although she felt remorse when it came to the divorce, she was glad that she would go back to her maiden name.

“Oh,” Jim said politely.

“Yes,” said Holly before Jim could ask. “I got a divorce.”

“Well, sorry to hear that…”

“It’s fine. It was a long time coming.”

“Well, either way. I’m sorry to hear that, Dr. Flax.”

Holly waved her hand lazily.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “So how was your week?”

Jim shrugged.

“Boring,” he said. “I can’t really do much when I keep seizing.”

“I see…”

“But the Phillies are going to the World Series, so…” he held up two thumbs. Holly gave him a smile.

“So I’d like to hear more about Pam,” Holly said.

“Well, I’d like to hear more about your divorce,” Jim retorted, almost childishly.

“There’s nothing to say about it.”

“Sure there is.”

“Well, it’s not something I want to share with a patient,” snapped Holly. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Wow. Someone’s touchy,” Jim chuckled. “Come on, I’m not a patient. I told you how I proposed last week, didn’t I? I’ll tell you another story if you tell me why you got that divorce.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You’re just giving off a vibe that you want to be heard, I guess,” Jim replied. There he goes again with his crazy mind reading. Holly began to wonder if that tumor of his was caused by some radioactive chemical he had snorted, and now he has mind reading abilities.

“How do you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Read people…”

“I’m observant, I guess,” Jim replied. “You said you got a divorce, I noticed some frown lines, your eyes were shifty, and your mouth twitched. It just looked like you wanted to say more about it, but then you realized that I’m ‘a patient.’”

“Am I that easy to read?” Holly began to feel slightly self-conscious. Jim shook his head.

“A little bit,” he smiled. “But I’ve seen a lot of people. So on with it, Dr. Flax.”

“This is like Silence of the Lambs…” mumbled Holly.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Holly said, rubbing her chin.

“Silence of the Lambs? Is that what you said?” Jim chuckled.

“Yes, that whole quid pro quo scene…”

“So does that make me Clarice?”

“You’re more of a Hannibal Lecter,” Holly joked.

“All right then…so quid pro quo. Something for something. I told you something last week, and you’ll tell me something, and then I’ll tell you something,” Jim said. “Man, I love that movie. Anyway, so your divorce…”

“…was quick and easy. We put our house on the market, and right now, I’m looking for an apartment or maybe a small house,” For one… thought Holly bitterly.

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” said Jim. “Why did you guys get one?”

“In short, my husband hated me for the last three or four years,” Holly replied. “We were married for ten years, and he wanted kids, but I really wanted my Psy. D degree. So when we got married, I spent all my time for a year trying to earn it. When I did, I had another year of being an intern. Then I worked at the county hospital…then I decided that I wanted my own clinic. So I spent the majority of our marriage working, trying to get where I wanted. I was selfish, I guess. Then to top it all off, AJ always wanted kids.”

Holly took a deep breath, and felt the weight lifting off her chest. She had to admit, it felt nice to let that all out.

“And you didn’t want kids?” Jim asked.

“I did,” Holly admitted. “But I wanted to get things settled first. Once I did, that’s when we started trying for kids. We did that for a year, and then I—we—found out that…I couldn’t get pregnant…”

“…and that was the last straw for AJ,” mumbled Jim. “Well…that’s…unfortunate. So what was this guy like?”

Suddenly, Holly was the patient. She felt as though she was the one sitting on the couch, and Jim was the one taking notes. But it felt nice, she had to admit. Finally being able to vent out her thoughts and feelings…

“He was always supportive, but he had a way of making you feel guilty. I…I didn’t want to marry him when he first asked. I was with him since my senior year of college, and by the time he asked, we’ve been dating for five years. I told him that I would think about it, and he made me feel his heartbreak…”

“Why didn’t you want to marry him?”

“I wanted to get what I thought needed to be done out of the way. All the schooling and what not. But AJ told me he understood, and that he’d support me. I gave in and said yes. We married right away. I started to change…he stayed the same…”

She was an overflowing dam…

“He wanted me to be the girl who went barhopping with him. I wanted him to be more responsible…I wanted to grow up. He lived in the glory years…”

“He was one of those, huh?” said Jim.

“Yeah…he was one of those…” Holly sighed.

“That’s what happens when you just…stick to someone, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“How many guys have you dated before AJ? Like seriously…?”

“He was my first serious boyfriend,” Holly replied.

“This is just my opinion, but…I think you need to date a variety of people before settling down,” said Jim. “Like, you need to…I don’t know, get your balls kicked a couple of times. Figure out what kind of person you really want…”

“How long have you known Pam before you married her?”

“Three years. I was twenty-five when I met her. Married her when I was twenty-eight.”

“I can do math, you know,” Holly smiled.

“Really?” laughed Jim. “I never would have guessed…”

Holly laughed kindly with him.

“What kind of girls did you date before her?”

“All kinds,” said Jim. “I like to get to know people. I don’t believe in that ‘love at first sight’ bullshit. Anyway, so I dated cheerleaders, Goths, um…psychos…”

“Psychos?”

“Yeah, this girl, Megan. She had me wrapped around her finger, and I don’t even know how she did it…anyway, um…long story short, I knocked her up, and she got an abortion without telling me. I found out from her mom. And I was way too immature for a kid, but…”

“It hurt?”

“Yeah,” Jim said. “It hurt a lot—that whole trust thing…anyway, if that didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have met Pam.”

“Quid pro quo, Mr. Halpert.”

“All right?” he smiled.

“How did you and Pam meet?”

*****
Unlike most college graduates, I was already in the makings of an empire. When my parents died, they left me a hefty sum of money. When I turned nineteen, an audio-engineering major named Ryan Howard and I decided to lease a small space. That’s when we opened our first recording studio.

Ryan handled the music production, and I handled everything else. At the time, the average cost of recording a demo was $1300. Most demos took at the least, ten hours to record. We handled things differently. We charged $700 for forty hours. Depending on how good a band is, that would be a full long press album.

With the money from my parents, we bought top of the line equipment, built four studios, and five iso-booths. Our plan was to have at least five bands record a month. And it was brilliant. Granted, we got lucky. New bands, wanting to be discovered, were popping out everywhere in California. They would all come to us, Furious Funk Recording Studios. After a few years, we built more studios, hired people, and then we became the Starbucks of recording studios. With the Myspace boom, more and more teenagers would start bands. So by the time I graduated, we already had fifteen studios along the western coast.

I loved music, so in Berkley, I studied everything about it. I decided to become a composer. I’ve played piano, guitar, and the violin all before I turned ten years old. I was almost a prodigy. In college, a couple of film kids would ask me to compose music for their short films. I obliged, and luckily, one of their films made it to a festival. This director, Ted Beesly, was a judge there, and he contacted me. He asked if I could write the music for his new Indie film, and I obliged.

That’s how I ended up in Chicago. However, I never wrote music for Tim Beesly’s film. His project never got the green light, and no one would fund it. So I searched the music scene, and built the first Furious Funk that wasn’t on the west coast.

For two years, I managed that studio, and I kept in touch with Megan. Although I despised her, she had this quality of wrapping me into her. She was still in Berkley, living off of her trust fund, and the day Tim Beesly called me again was the day I found out Megan was pregnant again. Not with my kid, but with some other trust fund baby. She told me that she was going to keep it.

I was pissed. So she wants to be with this guy, but she didn’t want to be with me? When you hear something like that from someone you’re in love with, it can drive you mad. So I punched a wall, and broke three of my knuckles. That meant that I couldn’t play any instruments. I had to write songs for Tim by ear. And that’s how I met Pam, Tim’s younger sister.

I needed a pianist, because the piano was my main tool. Tim told me that his sister was an excellent pianist. I met with her in my studio. At that point in my life, I was too depressed about Megan to even notice girls anymore. To me, they were all heartless bitches. So when Pam walked into my studio, I didn’t even notice how beautiful she was.

“You Pam?” I asked, not looking up from my sheet music.

“Yes, you must be Jim.” She replied softly.

“Yep,” I handed her the sheet music. “Set up the metronome at 120 BPM, and see how that sounds…”

“Okay…”

I listened to the music.

“Too fast,” I said to myself, remembering that this was for the scene where the hero falls in love with the girl. I called out to Pam. “Try it at 63, it should be larghetto. My bad…”

Pam nodded, and continued playing at a slower pace. The song sounded decent. It should sound better when the quartet came in next week…

“All right, give me a minute, and I’ll have someone set up the microphones,” I called. I nodded to the audio-engineer student from Columbia. “Could you set up the mikes, please?”

He nodded eagerly, and ran over to the baby grand piano to set up the microphones. And then he came back to the sound board, and nodded to me.

“All right, Pam. We’re ready to record when you are!”

When the song was over, Pam looked over at me from the iso booth and smiled. That’s when I realized that she was extremely pretty. Yet…she was pretty in the natural, girl next door kind of way. But she was an eye pleaser none-the-less.

So for the next couple of weeks, Pam would come in and record the piano tracks. I was still irate over Megan, but I decided to talk to Pam. After all, she was only getting paid a hundred bucks. The least I could do is let her know that I appreciated her help. So when we were finished with the piano tracks, I walked up to her as she was getting ready to leave.

“So, um…I really appreciated your help,” I said.

“Wow, he speaks!” Pam laughed.

“Excuse me?” I asked, certain that I had a dumbfounded expression on my face.

“Well, it’s just that, usually when you talk to me, you just say, ‘hi,’ ‘all right,’ ‘you ready?’” she smiled politely.

“Oh, um…all right, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Oh, and you say ‘all right’ way too much,” she said. “It’s like how people say ‘like’ like a hundred times when they talk. I probably said ‘like’ like seven times just now.”

“Like, that’s totally crazy!” I joked.

“I know! It’s like…almost like…poetic like!”

She began to giggle at her own joke, and I began to laugh as well.

“So anyway, thank you for playing the piano for me,” I told her.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Pam smiled kindly. “I’m on summer break, so…”

“Oh, you’re still in school?”

“No, I’m an art teacher and choir instructor at Kenwood Academy High,” she replied.

“Cool…”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “So…um…”

“Yeah…”

“I kind of want some coffee…do you want some coffee?”

“Sounds good,” I smiled.

We walked outside into the hot, humid Chicago summer.

“Okay,” I said, pointing to the Starbucks across the street. “We got Starbucks, and then down the street, there’s another Starbucks. There’s a Barnes and Noble with a Starbucks…your choice.”

Pam acted as if she was contemplating.

“Gosh…I don’t know. I mean, I really like Starbucks, but I also really like the Starbucks with the books…and I love the Starbucks down the street,” she said sarcastically. “What a tough decision…I guess we’ll have to settle for the one across the street. Is that okay with you?”

I laughed.

“I suppose I’ll just have to endure it…” I smiled.

We walked across the street, and ordered our drinks. When I asked for a large drip, the barista stared confusedly at me.

“The big cup?” I said, pointing to the big cup. It was pretty obvious…

“Oh,” said the barista. “That’s a venti, man.”

“Oh, my mistake,” I joked while Pam giggled.

“And what can we get for you, ma’am?”

“Same for me,” she replied. “Except medium, I mean, grande.”

I smiled down at her, and we got our coffees. Pam hummed a tune while she poured some cream into her coffee, and sprinkled it with cinnamon.

“Whatcha humming?” I asked when we sat down at a table.

“You don’t recognize it?” she asked, slightly surprised. “It was the song for the death scene that you wrote!”

“Oh…yeah…I guess I forgot. To be honest, I’m not really proud of that one.”

“Really? I liked it!” said Pam. “It was pretty hard for me to play…all those different harmonies and the time changes…but it gave me a sense of accomplishment when I got it right!”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes! I liked all of the songs actually. You’re pretty brilliant!”

“Thanks…” I said, feeling myself blush. I’m really terrible at taking compliments.

“So that leads me to ask…what kind of music are you into? Please don’t name any composers, because I don’t know any aside from Beethoven and Mozart…”

“I don’t really listen to that many composers to be honest,” I said. “But…I’m pretty much into the Indie slash folk slash alternative stuff. Uh…The National, Arcade Fire, Damien Rice, Ryan Adams, The Smiths, The Kinks, Jeff Buckley, Patrick Park, Iron and Wine, The Frames, Sigur Ros…that sort of stuff. How about you?”

Pam’s eyes widened.

“Are you serious?” she demanded.

“Yes…?”

“You just listed my most played artists in my iPod!” she exclaimed. “You’re totally stalking me aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I smiled.

“Holy crap! That means we’re like…musical soul mates!” Pam cried excitedly. “I never had one of those before…”

“Well…” I laughed, holding up my cup. “To being musical soul mates!”

“Hear, hear!” she laughed, clunking her paper cup against mine.

*****
“…and then we made out,” smiled Jim.

“Really?” Holly asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Naw…” Jim said, shaking his head. “We talked about music some more, made plans to go see a National concert…”

Holly smiled, and she looked down at her watch.

“Time’s up,” she said.

“Right…well, I’ll see you next week, Dr. Hue—Flax.”

“You can call me Holly.”

“See you next week then, Holly.” Jim smiled.

“Bye, bye, Jim…”

It took Holly a great deal of strength to keep her jaw from dropping when Jim Halpert walked into her office a week later. He was a walking skeleton with a thin layer of skin. His tall, lanky body was like an old tree, ready to fall when the wind blew too strongly. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheekbones prominent…

“I haven’t been able to keep anything down this week,” he explained as he sat down on the cushioned seat across from Holly’s desk. “Um…the doctors tell me that my tumor is still growing.”

He smiled sheepishly at Holly.

“Are you going to get it removed?” she asked.

“Eventually…”

“When?”

“When the time is right,” he replied, finality in his voice. “Probably within the next three months…”

Holly nodded, hoping that Jim did have three more months in him. If he wasn’t keeping food down…lord knows.

“So you can’t keep any food down?” Holly asked.

“It should be temporary,” Jim replied. “It happens every couple of months. I think it’s just me being a little pansy…”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Is this tumor going to kill you?”

“Probably,” shrugged Jim. “But I’m not going to let it.”

“Why don’t you just get the operation now?”

“I wish I could say something cliché like, ‘there’s a chance that I’ll lose my memory if they operate,’ but I can’t,” Jim smiled. “If I told you the reason why I’m not getting this operation right now, you’d think that I’m crazy. I would like to get to know you better, and I would like for you to know me better before I tell you.”

Holly nodded. “I just hope for your sake that you know what you’re doing…”

“I do,” Jim reassured. “And if it’s too late, and I do die before I get the operation, at the least, I hope that someone knows the reason why I’m waiting. Even if they don’t understand it.”

“Right,” Holly said, knowing that she will understand when the time eventually comes. She hoped that the time will be soon… “So what would you like to talk about today?”

“Have you found a new place?”

“Not yet,” Holly replied. “To be honest, I’m not really looking for one. The dank, cobwebbed motel room seems to fit my mood…”

Jim chuckled.

“Still pining over AJ, I take it?”

“No. Um…I found out that for the last six months or so, he’s been having an affair with a very young woman…”

“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that.”

Holly shook her head, and waved it off.

“Don’t be,” Holly said. “I’m not…”

“How come?”

Holly thought for a moment.

“I guess it’s because I stopped loving him,” she sighed. “I don’t know…I’ve been thinking, and I realized that I never did love him that much. I was young and inexperienced when we met…”

Jim nodded.

“Are you thinking about seeing someone?” he smiled.

“It’s a little too soon to be dating, isn’t it?” Holly blushed because she was thinking about her odd attraction to Michael Scott.

“It’s never too soon or too late,” Jim replied. “I made the mistake of waiting with Pam. I knew I had feelings for her, but I think I tortured myself with Megan to realize that I did have feelings for Pam.”

“How long did it take you to realize?”

“Well, I always felt something for her, and I realized that about three weeks after we met,” Jim explained. “But I was still pining over Megan and her damn wedding. I secretly imagined myself rising up, and screaming, ‘NO!’ when it came to that part of the wedding.”

“She invited you to her wedding?”

“Yeah,” Jim nodded. “Kind of a bitchy move if you ask me…”

That’s for sure… Holly thought to herself. Jim smiled at her as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Pam was the first one to admit that she was in love,” he said.

*****
It was nearing the end of October, and I was getting ready to leave Chicago for good. I was already there longer than I should have been, and that was mostly because Pam and I had become best friends. There wasn’t a day that went by where we didn’t see each other. I would swing by her school to go out to lunch with her, and we’d usually always have dinner at her apartment. I was still staying at a hotel at that time, and Pam would constantly tease me about it.

She would ask questions along the lines of:

“Why don’t you just get an apartment?”

“Does little Jimmy like how the hotel provides floaties for the pool?”

“Do you want to stay at my place?”

And I would always tell her no. But I did enjoy the floating noodles for my pool time fun…

“So you’re leaving in a few days,” Pam said one day while we were sitting in my hotel room.

“Yeah,” I said.

There was a hint of sadness in Pam’s face.

“But you’re still going to go to the Halloween party with me, right?”

“Or course I am. I’m leaving the next morning though…” I replied. “And I need to pick up my Batman costume later…”

“You’re supposed to be Danny Zuko!” Pam cried, stomping her foot down on the carpet.

“I want to be Batman!”

“You promised that we’d go as a famous couple…”

“Yeah, Batman and Catwoman, duh,” I laughed.

“But I already got my Sandy costume,” Pam whined.

“Which Sandy? The original Sandy or the bad ass Sandy?”

“The bad ass one…”

“Can’t you just buy a pair of those cat ear things?”

“I want to be Sandy though…”

“But I don’t want to be Danny Zuko!” I argued.

“Jim, it’s a karaoke party,” Pam explained. “We would look ridiculous singing You’re the One that I Want wearing Batman and Catwoman costumes!”

“We’re going to look ridiculous either way,” I retorted. I hated Grease.

“No we won’t,” Pam insisted. “The theme for the party is famous musicals! Batman isn’t a musical…”

“Why does a costume party need a theme?” I wondered out loud. “It’s bad enough we have to wear costumes…”

“It’ll be fun,” Pam smiled. She knew that my Halloween costumes usually consisted of me putting a random guy’s name on one of those, ‘Hello, My Name is’ tags, and that I hated getting dressed up in ridiculous costumes.

“Fine,” I huffed. “There better be an open bar…”

*****
On the night of the party, I rented a car. I figured that since I would be flying out the next day, I might as well drive to the airport after the party. And I also decided not to drink, although wearing a ridiculous Danny Zuko costume with a pound of pomade in my hair had given me a strong urge to drink. But in the end, I decided that flying with a hangover is a terrible idea. Damn planes and their loud engines…

I parked in front of Pam’s apartment building and ran up the stairs with hopes that no one would see me wearing tight jeans and a leather jacket and my terribly combed hair. I quickly rang the doorbell repeatedly, so that Pam would let me in before the world can see me.

“Who is it?” she called teasingly on the other side of the door. She knew that I hated this costume.

“It’s me!” I replied. “Let me in!”

“Who is me, and why do they refer to themselves in the third person?” Pam giggled.

“It’s Jim, loser!” I said. “Seriously, there are like thirty kids and their parents outside right now…I look ridiculous…let me in!”

“Jim? Jim who?”

“Okay, this is getting old, Beesly,” I laughed. I heard Pam laughing as she opened the door, and my mouth dropped.

To say that she was sexy was an understatement. The blonde wig that she was wearing seemed to illuminate her grinning face. The black spandex clung to her body, showing off her soft, pleasant curves.

“Is this too…whoreish?” she asked, turning in a circle so I could examine her.

I shook my head.

“You look…” I searched for the right word, and couldn’t find it. So I settled with, “hot…”

Pam blushed, and looked up at me.

“You look pretty hot yourself, Halpert,” she smiled. “You ready to go?”

I nodded. Pam and I made our way back downstairs into the parking lot. A couple of teenaged boys whistled at Pam.

“Tell me about it, stud,” Pam mumbled to me.

I grinned down at her, and shook my head. “Such a dork…”

“I just really like Grease, okay?” she said, getting into the Jetta I had rented. “Cute car by the way.”

“Says the girl who drives a Yaris,” I retorted as I gently shut her door.

“So Andy Bernard,” I said as we drove to our destination. “That’s the same guy that spent ten hours in the studio recording an acapella version of Rockin’ Robin right?”

“The same guy…the party’s at his house,” Pam smiled.

“Hm…”

“You sure you don’t want to drink tonight?” Pam asked. “Because Andy is an ex frat boy, and he really goes overboard with the liquor…”

“I shouldn’t drink,” I told her. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Oh yeah…” Pam sighed sadly. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know, Beesly,” I said honestly. “I was only supposed to be here for a month tops. I’ve been here for four…”

“Yeah…” Pam sighed. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Beesly,” I promised. “But let’s just concentrate on having fun tonight, okay? Because I did dress up like Danny Zuko for you…”

*****
“So Jimmy Zuko-rito,” Andy had pulled me aside to talk to me. He was dressed up as one of the cats from Cats. “Pretty sweet, party, eh?”

“Sure,” I said, watching Pam laughing with another teacher from her school.

“Pretty sweet rendition of You’re the One that I Want,” said Andy, clearly not noticing that I wanted to stand closer to Pam.

“Thanks,” I told him.

“So I was thinking,” Andy continued. “I think I’m going to start a one man acapella group. I think you can help me with that…”

“Sure.”

“Here’s what I’m thinking, an album, just me, my banjo, some Elton John cover songs, some acapella, some with my banjo…”

I wasn’t listening. I was watching Pam telling a story. She seemed so happy, excited, as she waved her hands around, and how adorable she was when she elaborated on a certain word. I watched as she paused to take sips from her cosmopolitan. Her cheeks were rosy red.

“I mean, imagine ‘Rocket Man’ in acapella…that would be so wicked, right Zuko-rito?”

“Sure, Andy,” I said. “I think I’m going to get another soda…”

As I walked over to Pam, I heard her giggling at a story that another teacher was telling.

“Hey,” I said when I reached her. She looked up at me in joy.

“It’s Jiiiim!” she giggled, clutching my arm. “My best friend!”

“Wow,” I laughed. “You are…drunk.”

“No…I’m just happy to see you! You’re my best friend, Jim,” she said, giving me a tight hug. “Seriously…you are!”

“You’re my best friend too, Beesly,” I mused.

“And…I love you!” Pam giggled.

“I love you too, Pam…”

“No, like I love you more than you know…”

“Wow, you really are drunk,” I laughed.

“No…yeah…maybe I am,” Pam said, still giggling. “I think I’m ready to go home…”

“All right, I’ll just grab your coat.”

As I drove back to Pam’s apartment, she was humming what I presumed was You’re the One that I Want. It was difficult to tell. From time to time, she glanced up at me, and I could tell that she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. When we reached her apartment, she collapsed out of the car.

“Whoa, Beesly,” I said, running around to help her up. “Are you okay?”

“Ow…” she giggled. “I fell!”

“Indeed you did,” I said, helping her up. “You’re kind of a light weight, you know that?”

“I’m not drunk, Jim! I promise!” she held up her crossed fingers, and giggled.

“Okay…I’m just gonna help you up to your apartment,” I told her.

“Whee!” Pam cried as I lifted her onto my back. “I’m flying!”

I laughed as I went up the stairs. I reached into Pam’s purse for her keys. I carried Pam into her bedroom, and I gently put her down on the bed.

“Thank you, Jim…”

“No problem,” I told her. “I’m going to get you a glass of water. Why don’t you change into your sleepies?”

Pam laughed.

“Sleepies?” she asked.

“Your jammies…pajamas…?”

“You call them sleepies?”

“So?”

“That’s cute…” she giggled.

I laughed as I made my way into her kitchen for a glass of water. When I walked back towards Pam’s room, I knocked gently.

“You decent?” I called.

“Yeah, come in,” she replied.

I opened the door, and Pam was sitting up on her bed in her flannel pajamas. She had forgotten to take off her wig.

“Here you go,” I said, handing her the cup of water. I reached to slide her wig off. “You forgot to take off your wig…”

Pam snickered into her cup.

“Oops…”

“Well, Beesly,” I said, straightening myself up. “I guess I should get going…I’ll call you when I land tomorrow, okay?”

Pam didn’t say anything. She stared down at her cup soberly.

“Pam?”

“You should stay…” she whispered, taking my hand. “Please.”

“It’s 3:00…my flight’s like in four hours, Beesly,” I told her.

“No…just…stay. Don’t go.”

“I have to Pam,” I explained. “I have to go to Megan’s wedding…”

Pam shook her head, and stood up. Her eyes pierced mine. She cupped her hands around my face, and tears began to slowly brim in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t go to her wedding,” she whispered. “She’s only going to hurt you more…”

“She wants me to be there…”

“But I want you to be here. I…I love you.”

She stepped up closer to me, pulling my arms around her body. I felt her lips gently brushing against mine.

“Whoa,” I said, stepping back. “Pam…I can’t…”

I looked down at Pam, who let her tears fall freely now.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “Um…it was…it was…nice getting to know you.”

“You too, Pam Beesly…”

“Goodbye, Jim.”

Later that night or morning, I drove back to my hotel, and I picked up my bags. I grabbed a couple of those little bottles of whiskey and scotch, and made my way to the airport. My lips still tingled from the barely there kiss from Pam….

I thought about Megan. I tried to remember how she used to make me feel before everything had happened. Was I even happy with her? Because all I could remember were all the fights that we had even before the abortion. I just remember her screaming at me, but I couldn’t remember what it was about. I couldn’t even remember if I even knew what her favorite food was…

Then I thought about Pam, and the last three months that we had spent together. The hours we spent with each other everyday talking about…life. She knew so much about me, and I knew a lot about here. She always listened to what I had to say, and I actually wanted to listen to what she had to say. Without her even telling me, I knew that she liked mixed berry yogurt, she sketches when she’s bored, and she liked to drink tea while she taught her class. I knew that her favorite food was shrimp Alfredo, and she knew mine was soft shell crab. I knew that she listened to Interpol whenever she worked out, and she knew that I liked listening to Coheed and Cambria when I worked out. Pam would bring me at least one home cooked meal a week. When we watched movies together, she liked to lean her head against my shoulder. When she gets excited, she would clench her fingers and mouth, ‘Oh my god!’ to whoever’s closest.

And I couldn’t remember anything about Megan. I couldn’t remember her natural hair color…I couldn’t even remember what color her eyes were. I never knew what her favorite food was…what her favorite music was. And I realized that I was never really in love with her. I just thought I was. I was in love with someone else…Pam…

*****
“And when I realized all of that,” Jim sighed. “I went back to Pam’s…”

“And you made out?” Holly asked.

Jim smiled.

“She was actually really mad at me for leaving her that night,” Jim laughed. “She didn’t talk to me for a couple of days…”

“Oh…so what did you do?”

“I brought her a mixed berry yogurt for lunch everyday for a week, and a teapot filled with inside jokes,” Jim replied. “But the point of that story was that I could have had her three months earlier. Things would have been different…”

“How so?”

“I would have gotten that operation for one…we would have had a baby,” Jim sighed. “She was over six months pregnant when she died. They couldn’t save the baby…”

“Oh my gosh…I’m so sorry, Jim,” Holly said, genuinely feeling sorry for him.

“I don’t know. It’s funny how different things would have been if we had gotten together three months earlier, you know?” Jim asked. Holly nodded. “So what I’m trying to say to you is, when you have an opportunity to be with someone, don’t waste any time. You never know what you could miss out on…”

*****
Later that day, Holly packed up all of her notes. She was still thinking about what Jim had said. Was Michael Scott her opportunity? Who knows? But she would still take a chance. After all, although Jim was younger than her, she realized that he knew so much more about things like mistakes and love than she did. So she waited by the elevator for Michael Scott, with an unfamiliar feeling of bravery in her chest.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Michael locking up his office door. Cold sweat began to form on her palms. And for some odd reason, “Lose Yourself” by Eminem was playing in her head. Because her palms were sweaty, knees weak, and her arms were heavy…she chuckled to herself. Michael waved enthusiastically at her as he walked down the corridor.

“Hey, Holly!” Michael called. “Late appointment?”

“I guess you can say that…” Holly replied. “Actually, I was just wondering…would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”

Michael dropped his briefcase, and stared at Holly in disbelief. His face was frozen as if he was in shock. Holly’s fingertips felt cold, and her knees were shaking. Never in her life had she been this bold.

But Michael Scott…there was something different about him, and Holly was oddly attracted to that. She liked how Michael would always give her Mini Mounds Bars every morning. She appreciated his terrible impressions of Adolph Hitler, even if they were extremely inappropriate. And she liked his childish smile. To Holly, Michael seemed so innocent…

“Guh…ur…gurugh…” Michael stammered. “Dinner? As in…a date? With dinner?”

Holly nodded.

“Like a date?” Michael repeated.

“Yes, Michael,” Holly smiled. “Like a date.”

“Wow…” Michael breathed. “Um…gosh, I wasn’t expecting that. It’s like those twists in movies…”

Holly laughed, but she began to anticipate rejection. At the very least, she could say that she had tried…

“So when…when, um…gosh...sorry,” Michael stammered, as sweat beads formed on his forehead. “When are you free?”

“I’m free tonight,” Holly said quickly in excitement. “Was that too eager?”

“No…” Michael smiled. “So I’ll pick you up at 6:00?”

“That sounds good,” Holly said. “Here’s my number…”

Holly quickly scribbled her number onto the back of one of her cards, and handed it to Michael.

“Alrighty…I will call you later, Holly,” Michael smiled.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

*****
As Holly rummaged through her suitcases later that afternoon in her motel room, she realized why she didn’t make rash decisions. First of all, she had nothing to wear. Secondly, she should have called Kelly to ask if she had any advice, and that usually takes about a week, because Kelly would be having a heart failure due to her excitement. Thirdly, she really did not know what other women her age wore on a first date.

She thought about her last first date…sixteen years ago. God, that made her feel old. What did she wear though…? Oh, a mini skirt and a tank top. She laughed to herself when she imagined Michael picking her up tonight and she was wearing a mini skirt with an Ace of Base tank top.

“I don’t even have any jeans!” she cried aloud. “Frick…”

And what kind of underwear do women of her age wear? She had a couple of silk panties, but thongs are really in right now, aren’t they? But was that too slutty? Gross…what if the strings showed? Why was she even worrying about underwear? Chances were that Michael and Holly would not have sex tonight. She’s not some scarlet woman. Oh god…she needed to make a quick trip to the Steamtown Mall.

While Holly walked around Macy’s, she tried to look for women around her age that were fashionable. She saw one woman in a track suit that said, ‘MILF’ on the ass…did men find that attractive? She saw another woman in a spaghetti strap top wearing what she liked to call hooker boots. And then there was the woman who was either a nun or a lost Amish person…

Holly settled for a brown sleeved cardigan and a black shirt. Neutral colors, but…it looked hip. She then purchased a couple of jeans.

When she got back to her motel room, she had more problems—her hair. What kind of woman didn’t have a stupid curling iron or stupid hot rollers or a stupid hair straightener? A stupid one…she quickly ran back down to her car, and went to the Walgreen’s down the street. She quickly found the hair accessories and some hairspray.

By the time she got back to her motel, she realized that Michael would be there in about thirty minutes.

“Hurry up!” she yelled at her hair rollers, bouncing on her heels in anticipation waiting for them to heat up. “Hurry the hell up you pieces of shit!”

Her rollers were still in her hair by the time she heard the door knock.

“Damn it!” she hissed. “One moment, please!”

She quickly unrolled the rollers from her hair. After a quick spray of Clinique Happy perfume, and a quick sniff at her armpits, she opened the door finding a smiling Michael holding up a bouquet daisies. He was wearing black turtle neck and some jeans. Oddly enough, Holly thought he pulled the turtle neck off quite nicely. But she still wondered if they were going to rob a bank for their first date…

“Hello,” he said, handing her the daisies. “Uh…I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked…”

“Aw…thank you, Michael,” she blushed. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah…” he said quietly, staring down at her. “You look…wow…you look very nice!”

She blushed a deeper shade of red.

“So do you,” she said softly. “Very dapper…”

“Thanks…so uh…we should…”

“Yeah,” Holly said. “We should go…”

“Okay…I hope you like food…”

“Well, I wouldn’t be living without it…”

Michael laughed.

“I meant Chinese food…I’m just…nervous,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

“It’s okay,” comforted Holly. “I’m nervous too…and yes, Chinese food is okay...”

*****
Holly was staring down at Michael’s plate of sesame chicken. Michael looked up at her.

“Do you want some?” he asked with his mouth full. Usually, Holly would find this disgusting, but for some reason, she didn’t.

“Oh, no,” Holly said, shaking her head. “I’m allergic to sesame seeds.”

“Really?” Michael asked in disbelief.

“Yes…I wish I wasn’t though. That chicken smells good,” Holly shuffled her rubbery chow mein around her plate.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Michael asked.

“No, it’s fine…”

“Are you sure? There’s a carnival in town,” Michael persisted. “I went there yesterday with my mom.”

Holly chuckled, but stopped when she saw that Michael was blushing.

“Was it any good?” she asked.

“It’s pretty good,” Michael replied. “They have this really awesome burger stand…best cheeseburgers I’ve had in a long time.”

“But you already ate…” said Holly, looking down at Michael’s nearly empty plate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael said. “I can eat a lot…plus Chinese food makes you hungry an hour later anyway. Maybe that’s why that Kim Jong Il fellow is so angry all the time…”

“He’s North Korean,” Holly chuckled.

“Oh, my mistake,” Michael said quickly, looking around as if he was expecting an angry mob. “So what say you, Holly-lu-jah? Does the carnival sound good?”

Holly smiled, and nodded.

“Yes!” Michael pumped his fist. “Because there’s this cool Tilt-a-Whirl ride that they have, and it is freaking awesome!”

*****
“They have ribs over there,” Michael pointed. “You don’t have to eat corndogs…”

“But if I line up the corndogs, they look like ribs,” Holly smiled.

“Good point…” Michael looked up at the vendor. “Fifty corndogs, please...”

The vendor shook his head.

“Do you really want fifty corndogs?”

“No…no I do not,” Michael blushed. “Um, just two corndogs, please.”

Before Michael could pay, Holly quickly handed the vendor a ten dollar bill.

“You already paid for the Chinese food,” Holly said as they walked away to find a table.

“Yeah, but you barely ate,” sighed Michael.

“Really, Michael, its fine,” Holly insisted, taking a seat at a wooden table. Michael sat across from her, and took a bite of his corndog.

“Thank you,” he said with his mouth full of corndog, swallowing it with a loud gulp. “So what made you want to be a psychiatrist, Holly?”

Holly choked on a piece of her corndog in an attempt to answer quickly. While she was coughing, Michael handed her his bottle of water.

“I don’t have cooties,” he said with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” Holly wheezed after taking a drink of water. “Wow, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I remember when I choked on my first sausage…”

“That’s what she said,” Holly chuckled.

Michael gazed upon Holly in awe.

“What did you say?” he asked as if he had never seen anyone like Holly before.

“Um…that’s what she said?”

Michael snorted, pointing at himself and then Holly.

“I used to say that all the freaking time!” he cried happily. “I’ve been saying it for the last thirteen years! My ex-girlfriend made me stop saying it…wow! I can’t believe you say it too!”

Holly chuckled kindly at Michael’s excitement. She liked how his face would light up over the smallest things…

“I used to say it a lot in college,” she replied.

“Wow…that is…remarkable,” Michael sighed happily. “So anyway, why did you get into the helping people with their problems game?”

“Oh, well…” Holly thought for a moment. “I guess I used to like listening to people…helping them with their problems. I used to get a rush, you know?”

“You used to get a rush?”

“After awhile, it gets old giving the same advice,” Holly said. “I don’t know…not much really goes on here in Scranton, you know? I mostly get patients who are recently divorced…that stuff gets old pretty quick.”

“I can see why…”

“Why did you get into child psychology?” Holly asked, tossing her corndog stick into a nearby trashcan.

“Nice shot!” Michael smiled. “But I got into child psychology because I love kids. The kids I talk to are between the ages of six and seventeen. I don’t know…I guess it’s easier for kids to find their innocence again. I’ve talked to a lot of kids who have been abused, or blamed themselves for their parents’ divorces…it’s nice to see their faces when they realize that it’s not their fault or that it’s going to be okay. Kids aren’t afraid to start over…adults on the other hand; well…we don’t like change. And I guess…well, I had an absentee father…he was there, but he was never really there. And when my mom left him, she met a guy named Jeff. I hated him. And I just wanted…I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Oh, Michael,” breathed Holly. “I’m so sorry…”

Michael shook his head.

“But I am sorry that your job isn’t fulfilling anymore,” Michael said.

“It’s not your fault. Actually, I have this patient…but he’s not really a patient,” Holly said. “He’s kind of like my own personal therapist…”

“Oh…?”

“The thing is, he has a brain tumor…I don’t know what kind, because he doesn’t like to talk about it,” Holly explained. “But he’s lonely…his family and friends don’t really talk to him about anything but his tumor. So he asked me to treat him like a friend…”

“That’s very kind of you…”

Holly shrugged.

“He’s a good guy,” Holly said.

“Is his insurance taking care of the bills? I mean, if they find out what you’re doing…”

“Oh, he pays,” Holly said. “But I never cash the checks. It just doesn’t feel right; I mean…he helps me more than I could help him…”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, but anyway,” Holly said, staring over at the Ferris wheel. “You wanna go on the Ferris wheel?”

“I’d like that very much,” Michael smiled as he got up off his seat. He held his hand out for Holly. She smiled as she took his warm hand, feeling even bolder than ever, which she didn’t understand why. It’s not like you can get an STD from holding hands, but…there was something pure about it. She and AJ never held hands…

So they walked over to the Ferris wheel, hand in hand. Holly felt Michael’s thumb gently brushing her own, sending a pleasant tingling sensation up her arm. Michael handed two tickets to the wheel operator, and helped Holly into her seat.

“You’re chivalrous, sir,” Holly beamed.

“Chivalry ain’t dead,” said Michael, placing his hand on his knee. Holly stared down at his hand, and saw his knobby fingers…he must have broken some over the years.

“What sports did you play?” she asked, nodding to Michael’s hand when he looked over. He held his hand up.

“I used to play hockey back in the day,” he said. “How did you know I played sports?”

“It just looks like you’ve broken a couple of fingers back in the day,” Holly replied, taking Michael’s hand again as the wheel began to turn.

“Yep,” Michael smiled.

“So were you any good?”

“I wanted to go pro,” Michael boasted. “But I really wanted kids and a family. You’re on the road so much…”

“Oh, so do you have any kids?”

Michael blushed.

“No…” he admitted. “It would be nice though…”

Oh, god…we’re talking about kids on the first date. Do I even tell him that I can’t have kids? Oh, Jesus.

“Well, you can’t always get what you want,” Michael shrugged. “So tell me, Holly…what are your greatest fears?”

Holly couldn’t tell whether Michael was being serious or not. When she looked at his face for confirmation, she guessed that he was being serious. What an odd question…

“Bees,” Holly replied. “I hate them. I broke my left leg twice, and that pain was nothing compared to getting stung by a bee. I got stung in the ear…literally, inside my ear. I thought I was going to die. What about you?”

“Probably snakes,” Michael replied. “I hate those bastards. You got stung by a bee inside your ear? How does that work?”

“I was taking out the garbage, and there was a beehive on the side of our house,” Holly began to explain. “And a bee lands right here.” She pointed to where her jaw line began, just underneath her ear. “And I’m terrified, so I stand still. I stand there for five minutes, and the bee crawls in my ear! I start to freak out, and then it stung me. Worst day of my life…”

“Oh man…” breathed Michael. “It was worse than your divorce?” Michael quickly went comatose. His eyes were wide, blank, and his lips puckered into an ‘O’ shape. “Sorry…wow…I just blurted that out. You don’t have to answer that!”

Holly shook her head, and laughed.

“It’s fine,” she reassured. “But yes, it was worse than my divorce. That was a long time coming…”

Michael released Holly’s hand, and placed his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose. Holly rubbed his back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed.

“About what?”

“I just made an ass out of myself…bringing up your divorce? Gah…I’m so stupid!”

“Hey,” breathed Holly gently. “It’s fine. AJ wasn’t right for me, okay? I really don’t care as much as I should…it’s really fine, Michael.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, sounding defeated.

“I already told you, it’s fine,” Holly smiled, taking his hand again. “Really…”

A moment later, they stepped off of the Ferris wheel. Michael still hadn’t spoken, and he quietly led them back to the parking lot. Holly didn’t know what to do, and she really couldn’t understand why Michael was acting like this.

“Hey, Michael,” she said, tugging his hand. “Talk to me.”

Michael didn’t say anything. He just stood, staring down at the sidewalk, with a look of the deepest sadness on his face. Holly gave Michael’s hand a squeeze, and stepped in front of Michael, unaware that their noses were inches from making contact…

“Michael, look at me,” she commanded softly, hoping her breath didn’t smell. Michael raised his eyes slightly so that they met Holly’s. She realized how gorgeous his eyes were. “What’s wrong?”

Michael exhaled sharply.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I told myself not to make an ass out of myself, and I totally did…and then I mentioned your ex-husband. And so I thought maybe you only asked me out because…I don’t know…I just…I’ve liked you for awhile, Holly…”

“You didn’t make an ass of yourself,” Holly smiled kindly, brushing Michael’s hair back with her hand. “In fact, I had a lot of fun with you tonight. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun…”

“Really?”

“Really,” Holly insisted. “And Michael? I’ve liked you for awhile too.”

*****
Holly couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this…euphoric. It must have been months…no, years since she felt like this. In the last week, she had gone out with Michael every night. They would watch movies at his condo, make jokes about each others convertibles, because honestly, who drives a convertible in a climate like Scranton’s? They would also go on for hours quoting old SNL episodes, and then, as Jim Halpert loves to say, they would make out. A lot.

She was a child again. Evenings with Michael consisted of hours of inside jokes, most of them involving “that’s what she said.” Sometimes they would go to the ice cream parlor down the street from their work, and order a fifteen scoop sundae. Michael’s new nick name for Holly was Scoopy-Doo, while Holly called Michael “Scooper Man.” Holly introduced Michael to yoga, but she realized that quiet meditation did not go well with Michael. Sometimes he would blow a raspberry and they would giggle while others gave them dirty looks. Michael invited Holly to go along with him to his Improv class. They made up characters like Michael Klump and Hollis the Walrus, Prison Mike, and they even had new hip-hop monikers—DJ Jazzy Flax and MC Mike Scott. And then there were the nights when they would just lay in bed together, cozying up in each other’s arms. For the first time in her life, Holly felt perfection…

“Someone’s all smiles this afternoon,” Jim said as he walked into Holly’s office the next week.

“I’ve had a good week,” Holly said, feeling smug.

“That’s good,” Jim grinned. “I did too…I found Neutral Milk Hotel’s On Avery Island on vinyl, so…yay for me!”

“What?”

“Neutral Milk Hotel?” Jim asked in disbelief. “You don’t know them?”

Holly shook her head.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jim demanded. “They are one of the greatest bands in the world! You have to listen to them!”

“What kind of music are they?”

“Indie, Psychedelic-Folk…they’re indescribable,” Jim sighed. “They’re amazing…”

“I guess I’ll listen to them later,” Holly said, feeling sure that she’d forget to listen to this band.

“So what made your week so good?” Jim asked.

“You can’t tell?” Holly teased, knowing that Jim knew exactly why she was so happy.

“Well, I don’t know how to say, ‘you got laid, didn’t you?’ without offending you,” Jim chuckled.

“Last night,” Holly glowed. “Twice…”

Jim reached out his hand.

“Hey five, doctor!” he exclaimed happily, his hand smacking against Holly’s. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“He works on this floor…down the hall,” Holly replied, just as her phone rang. She looked up at Jim. “One minute…Yes?” a slight pause, “An emergency? Send him in…”

She looked back up at Jim, a worried expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know…Michael’s intern says there’s an emergency,” said Holly, adding. “Michael’s my…”

“Boyfriend,” Jim finished, as a man with large glasses and a larger head walked into Holly’s office.

“Dwight Schrute,” he said in a commanding tone. “Dr. Scott has asked me to give you this.” Dwight held up a folded up piece of paper, and handed it to Holly. “He would like your reply soon. It’s urgent.”

Holly took the slip of paper from Dwight, as Dwight examined her desk.

“Oh, man…is this oak?” he wondered aloud. “Such craftsmanship…” he ran his fingers along the desk, and then looked at Jim.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. Dwight made a ‘psh’ sound, and rolled his eyes.

“Drug addict,” Dwight muttered. “Methamphetamines by the look of it…”

“Close,” said Jim. “It’s a brain tumor…but good guess nonetheless.”

Holly chuckled to herself as she read Michael’s note:

Are you free tonight? Check yes, no, maybe so.

xoxoxoxo,
Michael

Holly quickly scribbled a check mark next to the yes box, folded the note, and handed it to Dwight. Dwight quickly left her office.

“Sorry about that,” said Holly.

“No problem,” Jim said. “What’s up?”

Holly blushed.

“He wanted to know if I was free tonight…”

“Wow,” Jim laughed. “He couldn’t just text you?”

“Come on, it was cute…he had little check boxes and everything…”

“So are you in like fifth grade now?” Jim teased.

“Shut up,” Holly smiled.

December 10, 2009

(Roughly three months later)

For over a year now, Jim would wander alone through the dark hallways of his house. For over a year now, Jim would be lucky to have slept for at least two hours. For over a year now, Jim was haunted by his regrets.

Sometimes he would take his anger out on others, and today was that day. He was tired. He was in pain. Lastly, he was sick of blaming himself for everything that had happened. Although, in the back of his head, he knew that it was his own fault that all of this had happened. But sometimes, on his selfish days, as he likes to call them, he would lash out on others. He would pick out their faults and expose them.

“You haven’t told Michael about you not being able to have a baby yet, did you?” Jim asked Holly coldly the week after he finished his Last Will and Testament.

“No…” she said guiltily.

“Well, that’s pretty cold of you,” Jim said, laughing humorlessly. “Is it because you’re scared that he’ll leave you?”

Holly’s face had turned white. Jim couldn’t tell whether it happened over fear or anger. It was probably both.

“What?” she asked.

“You said that Michael wants nothing more than his own kids,” Jim replied, his tone still cold—unrecognizable to even him. “I think you’re being selfish…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Holly asked, obvious to Jim that she was trying to keep composed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jim asked. “You’re wasting a poor guy’s time by not telling him that you can’t have kids. Right now, Michael’s sitting in his office, most likely thinking about you, and your futures together, and wondering about kids. And you’re wasting the fucker’s time by not telling him.”

“You’re the one that told me to…”

“I never told you to waste his time,” Jim laughed. “I told you to go out and find a nice guy. As in, find a nice guy to give you a good fuck. I mean, might as well find a good fuck, you can’t get pregnant anyway…”

And with that, Holly’s face twisted into fury.

“Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing me about wasting someone’s time?!” she demanded, her face turning from white to red. “You’ve been sitting there, reminiscing over your wife, while you’ve got something growing in your brain that could potentially kill you. You’re the one that’s wasting my fucking time!”

“Well, at least my dead wife has a better chance of getting knocked up than you, you barren bitch!” Jim lashed out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Jim?” Holly asked, trying to calm herself down.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Jim replied. “I’m just saying, you’re giving that guy false hope!”

Just then, Holly’s office door flung open.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Michael demanded, looking from Jim to Holly. “I heard you yelling from down the hall, Holly. Is everything okay?”

“Is this Michael?” Jim asked, pointing up at Michael. “You Michael?”

“Yeah…who the hell are you?”

“Oh, I’m Jim,” Jim replied. “Did you know that Holly can’t have kids?”

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked, turning to face Holly. “What is he talking about?”

“Dr. Flax, I called security,” Phyllis said breathlessly from Holly’s doorway.

“God damn it…” Holly muttered, as tears began to form in her eyes.

“You want to know what I’m talking about?” Jim asked Michael. “Holly, your girlfriend, can’t have kids. She has one fucked up uterus, which means she can’t have kids.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE!” Holly screamed as Michael looked at her in disbelief, muttering, “Why didn’t you tell me that you can’t have kids?”

Holly ignored him, focusing on Jim first.

“YOU DESERVE TO DIE, YOU NOSTALGIC SON OF A BITCH!” she screamed. “Look at you! You’re fucking pathetic! You’re constantly feeling sorry for yourself, sitting there all self-loathing…GUESS WHAT?! PAM IS DEAD, AND SHE’S NOT COMING BACK! AND YOU’RE GOING TO GO THE SAME WAY YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!”

Jim laughed to himself, although there was nothing funny about this. He already started to regret lashing out at Holly. After all, she didn’t deserve it…

“You know what?” he asked, as a tall, elderly African-American security guard rushed in through the door. “Fuck you, Holly. And Michael, if you really want kids, don’t waste your time with her. She’s only gonna fuck up your life…”

Jim brushed past the security guard, and made his way out of Holly’s office, hearing a sob issue from Holly before he slammed the door.

*****
He flung his money at the cab driver, and quickly stormed up his driveway, ignoring the dizziness and pain in his head. He slammed the front door, and plopped himself down on his coach. He felt his body shaking, and before he knew it, Jim was sobbing.

The tears fell freely down his face. He didn’t even bother wiping them off. All he felt was a strong wave of regret. Holly did absolutely nothing to deserve that kind of treatment from him. She was his only true friend…why did he have to do that? If he wanted to blow some steam off, why didn’t he just yell into his pillow? He reached into his pocket, and dug out his cell phone. Scrolling down his phonebook, he stopped at Holly’s name. Her cell phone number blinked as he pushed the send button. The dial tone rang, sending tiny waves of pain into Jim’s brain. When it rang the seventh time, Holly’s voicemail answered:

“You’ve reached Dr. Flax, I apologize that I’m unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

beep

“It’s Jim. Listen, I know that sorry doesn’t do any justice, but I am truly sorry for what happened. I could easily blame my tumor, but the thing is, it’s nowhere near my frontal lobe,” Jim said. “Please…I need you, Holly. Please call back…I’m so sorry…”

*****
Last Week

I, James A. Halpert, of 3036 Chestnut Street, Scranton, Pennsylvania, declare that this is my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all Wills made by me at any time heretofore.

*****
“You’re losing weight, man,” Tom said.

“Only ten pounds,” Jim said. “It happens…”

“Why didn’t you just get the surgery?” asked Tom, surveying Jim’s sickly appearance. “You look like shit.”

“Well…” Jim smiled. “You look like John Goodman’s shit, so…as always, I look better than you.”

“Dick,” Tom laughed. “But seriously, when are you getting the surgery?”

“I don’t know, Tom,” Jim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Soon…”

“It’s been a month, man…I know you’ve lost Pam—”

“I said I’ll get it soon,” Jim interrupted. “Dude, don’t you want to go home? You’ve been here for the last two weeks, and Amy’s probably stressed with Vanessa and work…”

“She’ll be fine,” snapped Tom.

“Hey,” Jim said, pushing his wheelchair forward. “Dad’s Shelby came in three months ago, did I tell you?”

Tom shook his head. “No, Jim…we need to talk about your fucking tumor, man…before it kills you.”

“It’s not serious right now,” Jim said. “I still have plenty of time left. Come on, I haven’t seen the Shelby since it got here.”

Tom scratched his bald scalp, and finally took the handles of Jim’s wheelchair, pushing him into the garage.

“It’s under the tarp,” Jim said. Tom walked over to the covered car, and pulled the tarp off. Underneath, there was a rusty old car.

“You still haven’t restored it yet?”

“I started to,” explained Jim. “And you know…shit happened.”

“Yeah…” said Tom, running his fingers along the side of the car. “Man, remember when dad got this? He said it was our project…too bad we never finished it.”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “Listen, why don’t you take it back with you? I could have it shipped out to L.A. for ya…”

Tom shook his head.

“No, dude…Dad left this for you to finish,” he said. “So hurry up, and get your ass better…”

“My ass couldn’t get any better than this,” Jim joked. “You’re just jealous of my sculpted glutes…”

“Damn it, Jim! Quit making jokes,” Tom scolded. “You really need that fucking surgery, man. Amy, Pete, the kids…we’re all worried about you. I know that Pam just died, but fuck, man. You gotta think for yourself now…”

“Tom,” said Jim in an authoritative tone. “Shut the fuck up. I told you, I’m getting the fucking operation.”

“When?”

“Soon…”

To my oldest brother, Thomas J. Halpert, I leave my estate and our father’s 1969 Shelby Mustang with hopes that he will finally find the time to restore it. I also leave my businesses in Denver, Chicago, and Salt Lake City with hopes that they will provide further income for his family.


*****
Jim was down on his knees, gently caressing the tiny bump on Pam’s stomach.

“Who’s in there?” he asked the bump. “Is it the future Miss America? Or is it the future center for the Celtics?”

“You’re such a loser,” Pam laughed.

“Did you not read the books, Pam? They said that it’s good to talk to the baby while it’s still in the womb…”

“I know, but ‘future Miss America?’ Do you really want our kid to be in that degrading competition?”

“When did you become a feminist?” Jim smiled up at Pam, and then down to her stomach. “I heard your heartbeat today, kiddo, and wow…you’re already doing your old man proud…”

Jim got up off his knees, and gave Pam a kiss.

“So what do you think it’s gonna be?” he asked her. “A boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” Pam grinned. “Does it really matter though?”

“No,” Jim beamed. “It really doesn’t. So hey, if it’s a girl, I already have the perfect present for her. Wait here…”

Jim quickly ran up the stairs into his office, and pulled out a velvet box. He hurried back down into the living room, skipping every other step, and opened the box for Pam.

“My mom’s bracelet,” Jim explained. “It’s been in her family for years…she told me that she always wanted a daughter, but she ended up with three tall boys. She gave it to me before she died because I was the girly one in the family; told me to give it to my own daughter one day…”

Pam held up the gold bracelet, examining it.

“Wow…it’s beautiful,” she smiled. “They don’t make them like this anymore, that’s for sure…”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed, staring at the bracelet.

“What if it’s a boy?” asked Pam.

“Then we try again for a daughter, silly…”

“What if we only have boys?”

“Why must you crush my dreams?” Jim chuckled. “Well, Tom and Amy have a daughter…I’ll give it to them to give to her. It should stay in the family…”

To my niece, Vanessa C. Halpert, I leave my mother’s, her grandmother’s, bracelet with hopes that she will feel her grandmother’s presence, and let it guide her down the right path. I also leave my deceased wife’s locket with hopes that she will fill it with her own memories.


*****
It was Jim’s twenty-first birthday, his second older brother Pete had come to California to celebrate it with him. Pete kept pushing more and more drinks into Jim, exclaiming, “It’s all about making mistakes, buddy!”

After two straight hours of downing shots of vodka, rum, and tequila, Jim was, to say the least, wasted. As Pete helped Jim walk back to his apartment, Jim began to feel a nostalgic feeling of guilt.

“Pete,” Jim slurred. “Do you think it’s my fault that dad killed himself?”

“Come on, Jimmy…don’t think like that,” Pete said. “Dad was upset about mom, remember?”

“Yeah…but I said a lot of fucked up things that night…” Jim sniffed, feeling the tears starting to form.

“Man, don’t cry on your birthday, you pussy,” Pete scolded. “Listen, we were all angry at Dad. Shit happens…it wasn’t your fault. Now give me your keys, because I’m not reaching into your pocket. I might touch your vagina…”

Jim let out a sob and laugh, and handed the keys to Pete. They slowly walked up the stairs to Jim’s floor, only stopping so that Jim can vomit in the second floor hallway. When they finally reached Jim’s apartment, Pete threw Jim across the room onto his bed.

“Ow, faggot!” Jim cried, rubbing his forehead.

“Wow…you still have this?” Pete asked, ignoring Jim. He picked up a book off of Jim’s coffee table. “Dad loved this book…”

“Yeah, I know,” Jim moaned. “It’s a good book.”

“…my favorite,” Pete said, flipping through the pages.

To my older brother, Peter W. Halpert, I leave my businesses in California, Oregon, and Washington with hopes that they will provide extra income for his family. I also leave our father’s copy of Grapes of Wrath with hopes that Peter will one day pass it down to his own son.

*****
“Damn it, Pete,” said Jim, dragging Pete aside. “Why did you bring P.J.? You know I don’t want him to see me like this…”

“I thought he’d be able to guilt trip you into getting the surgery,” Pete smiled.

“I told you, I’m going to get it,” Jim repeated for the thousandth time.

“You’ve been saying that months, you douche nozzle,” said Pete, nudging Jim. “Go talk to P.J., he’s been really interested in the piano lately. He reminds me of you…always playing the same song over and over till he gets it right.”

“He’s only four, and he’s already playing songs?”

“It’s mostly Mary had a Little Lamb and Hot Cross Buns,” Pete laughed.

“But still…” said Jim, walking over to the piano room with Pete, seeing a little boy with brown hair playing his piano. “That’s impressive…”

To my nephew, Peter M. Halpert II, I leave my piano with hopes that he will one day compose beautiful music for the world to hear. I also leave my record collection with hopes that he’ll draw inspiration from them.


*****
“Hey, Holly?”

“Hey, Jim?” Holly mimicked.

“Are things with Michael good?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, they’re solid. He took me to his mom’s for Thanksgiving,” she said. “Why?”

“Do you see a future with this guy?”

“Like a marriage?”

Jim nodded.

“I don’t know, I’ve only been seeing him for about two months…”

“Yeah, but you guys are already moving in together,” Jim said.

“That’s true,” Holly nodded. “Yeah, if the time is right, and he asks, I’d say yes.”

“Good,” Jim smiled. “That’s good…”

“Why?”

“Well, is there anything special you’d like to do with Michael? Like go to Space Camp or Disneyland?”

Holly laughed.

“Space Camp would be fun…but…” Holly blushed. “If I tell you something, promise not to laugh?”

“I promise…”

“Well…I imagine us all old, like in our seventies. Michael’s wearing shorts that are tucked up too high and a fanny pack, and I’m wearing a big visor and even bigger sunglasses, traveling around the world…you know, Japan, Rome, Korea, Australia, Paris…places like that,” Holly admitted shyly.

“Why are you in your seventies?”

“I imagine that’ll be around the time we retire,” Holly replied. “We can’t take too long of a vacation because our patients become attached. And they’ll probably leave, and find other psychiatrists, and there goes our income.”

“I see,” said Jim. “So you really love Michael?”

“Yeah,” Holly smiled. “I really do…”

To my friend, Hollis P. Flax, I leave my businesses in Philadelphia, New York City, and Boston with hopes that they will provide enough income for her to see the world sooner rather than later. I also leave her my thanks for listening to me when I needed someone to hear me.

*****
They stood in a field of gold and green. The strong breeze blew their hair wildly about, tickling their faces. The two that stood here were different from other newlyweds. While other couples chose to honeymoon in Hawaii or the Bahamas, Jim and Pam chose Glasgow, Scotland for the meadows, architecture, and the music.

“I love it here,” Pam breathed into Jim’s ear. “Everything is so…”

“Perfect?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Pam smiled. “I mean, look at all of that.”

Pam waved her hand out in front of her to the trees covered in fog.

“It’s gorgeous,” she crooned. “I mean…wow!”

“I know…”

“When I die,” began Pam before Jim interrupted.

“Wow, you’re already thinking about dying?” he laughed. “Am I already boring you that much?”

“Meh…a little bit,” Pam joked. “But seriously…when I die, I want my ashes scattered around here.”

“Well, you’re not going to die for about another million years,” Jim said. “And that’s a promise…”

“Jim, you’re ruining the moment…”

“I’m ruining the moment?! You’re the one talking about dying…on our honeymoon, for the love of god…”

“I’m sorry,” said Pam. “That is kind of morbid, isn’t it?”

“Just a lot, Beesly,” smiled Jim.

“It’s Halpert now, stupid,” Pam giggled.

“Right, I forgot,” Jim said, kissing the top of Pam’s head. “Halpert…”

“You want to go to the pubs and try some haggis?”

“Um…I’ll go to the pubs for beers and drinks. You can try the haggis,” Jim chuckled. “Weirdo…”

Upon my death, I demand that my body be cremated, and my ashes scattered where my beloved wife’s ashes now fly in the high meadows of Glasgow, Scotland.

In the event that I become mentally or physically incapacitated, I claim and demand the right that I die a natural, dignified death. Let it be known in no uncertain terms that I refuse to be kept alive by artificial means.

I leave the rest of my belongings and fortune to the American Brain Tumor Association.

In witness whereof, I hereunto set my hand and seal to Scranton, Pennsylvania, this 4th day of December, 2009.

James Andrew Halpert

Jim printed out the document, and handed it to his lawyer, his business partner Ryan Howard for them to sign as the notary and the witness.

“All right, Mr. Halpert,” said Mr. Clemmons, Jim’s lawyer, folding up Jim’s Will. “That’s all.”

“Thank you,” Jim said, shaking the man’s hand, and watching him leave the room.

“You better not die on me, man,” Ryan said, getting up. “Because I need to kick your ass for making me come to this shitty town once you’re better.”

Jim chuckled, and shook Ryan’s hand.

“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” said Ryan. “Let me know when you decide to get the surgery. I’ll send you some flowers and shit.”

“All right,” Jim laughed. “Later, man…”

“Take care of yourself, Halpert.”

*****
Jim watched the flames dancing around in his gas fireplace, his living room glowing red and orange. I Can Feel a Hot One by Manchester Orchestra softly filled the room. Jim listened to the sound of the music, felt the vibration of the bass. He closed his eyes, regret still flooding over him as if he was caught in a flood. The feeling of sorrow coldly swept up to his chest, leaving his heart heavy, his lungs feeling as if they were ready to collapse.

His doorbell rang, surprising him. Jim glanced at the clock sitting on top of the mantle of the fireplace. 8:23 P.M….

He walked slowly to the front door, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“Probably carolers,” he muttered, unlocking the door.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Holly looking up at him. Her eyes bloodshot, her face white, shivering, looking as if she had aged ten years.

“Can I stay here?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” Jim said, stepping aside. “You alright?”

“Michael wants to…he needs some time to think,” Holly breathed, her voice no louder than a whisper. “I didn’t want to be alone again…”

“God…” Jim sighed. “Holly, I’m so sorry…about everything.”

Holly let out a sob, and wrapped her arms around Jim’s skinny, frail body. Jim gently ran his hand down Holly’s hair.

“Hey,” he whispered, still embracing Holly. “I’m really sorry about today. I’ve just been…I don’t know. Sometimes I get tired of being angry at myself, so I take it out on—”

“It’s fine, Jim,” Holly said into Jim’s shoulder, sounding slightly muffled. “I should be the one that’s apologizing.”

“Everything you said was true,” Jim said, letting go of Holly. “I’m just a self-loathing guy who’s being an asshole to everyone for no reason…”

Holly let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry I came here…”

“I’m not,” Jim said. “It’s nice to have company.”

“It’s just…I just moved in with Michael, and he wanted me out of his house so that he could have some time for himself,” Holly explained. “And…I didn’t want to be alone in a motel room again.”

“I understand. There’s a spare bedroom upstairs,” Jim said. “There’s actually four extra bedrooms, so…take your pick.”

Holly smiled.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It’s the least I could do, Holly. Do you want a drink? Unfortunately, I don’t have any alcohol…but I have plenty of water, orange juice, and apple juice. And a lot of vitamins, and some pain killers…”

“I’d love a glass of water.”

“One glass of water, coming right up,” Jim said, leading Holly down the hall into the kitchen. He filled a glass up with water and handed it to Holly.

“Thanks,” she said. “This is a really beautiful home…”

“It’s not a home,” Jim said. “Not anymore. It’s just a house. But thank you…”

Holly nodded.

“Do you want a tour?” Jim asked. Holly nodded, and followed Jim into the spacious living room. Jim pointed to a large canvas painting of a green meadow. “Pam painted that. It’s the meadow where her parents and I scattered her ashes. She said it was the most beautiful place she’s ever been…”

“It’s really good,” Holly said, examining the picture with interest.

“And that’s our wedding photo,” Jim pointed to a large portrait, and for the first time, Holly was able to see a healthy Jim and Pam looking beautiful.

“She’s gorgeous,” Holly smiled. “Look at her! She’s glowing!”

“Yeah…” Jim said lovingly. “She was beautiful…”

“And you weren’t so bad looking yourself, Jim,” Holly smiled.

Jim shrugged.

“Meh…sure…” he said awkwardly.

Jim led Holly around his house, showing her where the bathrooms were, and all the rooms but one.

“What’s in that room?” asked Holly, pointing to the door.

“That’s…the baby’s nursery,” Jim replied. “Um…don’t really like going in there…”

“Oh…I’m sorry,” Holly said quickly.

“So do you want to go to bed? Or…”

“I’m not that tired,” Holly replied. “But if you are, feel free…”

“I never sleep these days,” Jim said, rubbing his temple. “My head hurts more when I lay down…”

“Oh…gosh…”

“Yeah, so…do you want me to order some pizza or something? There’s no food in the house…”

“Actually, do you want to go for a drive?” Holly asked. “Since you’re not tired?”

“Uh…sure. Where?” asked Jim. “Because if you want to drive out to woods and kill me…”

Holly laughed.

“Montauk?”

“Isn’t that like…five hours away?” Jim asked.

“Give or take…” Holly smiled.

“Um…why Montauk?”

“It’s sort of…my place,” Holly explained. “You know, it’s where I go whenever I feel like shit…”

“All right,” Jim smiled. “Let’s go to Montauk then.”

12:16 AM

Wham!

Jim sat in the passenger seat of Holly’s M3 convertible, his ears flooded with the sounds of Culture Club, Wham!, Billy Joel, and Corey Hart. Holly drove on with tears slowly falling down her face. The compilation CD that she and Jim were listening to was Michael’s first gift to Holly on their first week anniversary. She missed him, and although she wanted to talk about him, she couldn’t. After all, judging by the look of disdain on Jim’s face, she wouldn’t further flood his ears with her worries.

Jim stared out his window, secretly glad he was only eleven years old by the time the 80’s were through. In his younger years, he wouldn’t listen to what they then called modern music. His father had introduced him to The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Cream, Deep Purple, Jefferson Airplane, and Jimi Hendricks. On top of that, his mother had fueled his love for the piano by introducing him to Johannes Brahms. For hours, he would sit and wish that he would one day compose beautiful Piano Concertos. But the point is, he totally skipped 80’s new wave and hair metal. And there was a reason why: they were terrible (save for New Order and The Cure).

“So I assume that you’re a big Wham! fan?” Jim asked loudly over the terrible sounds of Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.

“What?” Holly sniffed, wiping tears off her cheek before turning down the stereo.

“I noticed that you seem to like Wham!,” Jim said. Holly let out a teary chuckle.

“Not really,” she said. “Michael made me this CD…”

“Oh…interesting taste in music,” Jim muttered to himself as, Sussudio by Phil Collins began to play. He turned to Holly and said, “Do you want to talk about him?”

“Michael?”

“No, Phil Collins…yes, I meant Michael,” Jim said. “I feel bad about what happened. And I’m so, so sorry…”

“Quit apologizing, Jim. You’ve been doing it for the last three hours now…”

“No, you need to understand. It was me that said those things to you, but…it was because I was I was angry…”

“I know…”

“No, me being angry is different,” Jim took a deep breath and exhaled. “My tumor’s in my temporal lobe. So sometimes I can’t regulate my emotions. When I’m angry, then I go overboard. And this afternoon, I was angry so I took it out on you. So I’m sorry that I have to use the tumor excuse, but I just want you to understand that I would have never lashed out on you like that…”

“It’s fine, Jim,” Holly said, surprised that Jim was the first to talk about his tumor this time. “This music really isn’t really helping is it?”

“To be honest, I have a splitting headache right now,” Jim smiled. “I can’t stand this shit…no offense. I never liked 80’s music. But if it makes you feel better, I can’t listen to Radiohead anymore without it feeling like there’s a tiny person in my head pounding at my brain.”

Holly laughed, and turned off the stereo.

“So you can’t listen to music?”

“No, I listen to music,” Jim shrugged. “Sometimes it hurts, but most of the time, it soothes me. I just can’t listen to high pitched sounds, so there goes Thom Yorke’s sexy high falsetto voice…”

Holly had no idea who Thom Yorke was, but she gave a friendly chuckle anyway.

1:32 AM

Meet Me in Montauk

They were roughly an hour away from Montauk, but they had stopped by an old diner for a bathroom and coffee/juice break. Jim sat, waiting for Holly to come out of the restroom, and took a sip of his orange juice. He looked around the fluorescently lit diner that reminded him of the diners he’d see in movies. A few truckers sat at the tables around him, sipping their coffees. Jim remembered coming to this same exact diner with Pam the summer they had first moved to Scranton…

“Hey,” Holly said, smiling down at Jim. “Sorry it took so long.”

“It’s fine,” Jim replied. “I would have ordered you some food, but I didn’t know if you were hungry…”

“I actually am,” Holly said. “Are you?”

“No, but feel free to eat,” Jim smiled. “I came here with Pam when we first moved to Scranton. This same diner…”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jim nodded. “We sat over there.” He pointed to a table behind Holly.

“Were you guys going to Montauk?”

“Coming back, actually,” Jim replied. “Pam was a big fan of Eternal Sunshine…”

We moved to Scranton because it seemed like a quiet place. Pam was sick of the city, but she would always be a city girl. It was July 2007 when we moved here. We had just gotten back from our honeymoon, and we both still had the newlywed feeling.

Although Pam wanted to move somewhere quiet, I could always tell that she was becoming restless. After all, we spent most of our days watching movies. Sure we’d have sex every night, and the sex was good, but…there was no denying that we were both bored out of our minds.

One afternoon, we had just finished watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Pam said:

“I want you to meet me in Montauk, Jim.”

I laughed, and replied, “Okay…”

“Seriously,” she insisted. “I can take a bus and a cab over to Montauk and you could drive and meet me there!”

“Really?” I asked. “Montauk’s like…really far away…”

“Well, yeah,” Pam said, rolling her eyes. “That’s kind of the point. We need to get out and do something!”

“Why can’t we go to the lake?”

“That’s not far enough…Jim, we need adventure in our lives!” Pam exclaimed, her eyes wide in excitement. “And we’ve been sitting here doing nothing for like three weeks…you’re getting a gut!”

“Hey,” I cried, feeling hurt. I subconsciously rubbed my hands on my gut. “It’s from all the beer we had in Scotland…”

“And the ten pounds of bangers and mash you ate everyday while we were there…and the pint of Ben and Jerry’s you eat every other day…and…”

“Okay, I got it,” I mumbled. She had really hurt my feelings…

“So do you want to meet me in Montauk?”

“This is stupid…”

“You’re stupid,” Pam laughed. “Come on, and say yes, tubby…”

“Fine, I’ll meet you in Montauk…”

*****
I searched for Pam along the coast of Montauk Point. The sun was setting, and I had been searching for Pam for hours. Yet I drank in the scent of the sea water, feeling refreshed with each breath. I felt the sting of the salt water hitting my face as the wind blew. I heard the waves crashing against the rocks. I realized just how beautiful this world was when I saw Pam sitting on the edge of the coastline. I ran over and quickly plopped myself down next to her.

“I found you,” I said, pulling her into me, the sweet smell of her hair mixed with sea intoxicated me. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Like…forty minutes?” Pam smiled. “The bus made a lot of stops…”

“I could imagine…”

“I can’t find the house,” Pam whined.

“What house?”

“The house from Eternal Sunshine,” Pam replied. I let out a laugh.

“I think I saw it, but it’s wayyy over there,” I told her pointing behind me. “It’s like an hour walk though. Do you wanna check it out?”

Pam shook her head.

“It’s fine…”

I nudged her gently with my elbow, and she looked up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I was just thinking,” Pam replied. “I’m fine.”

“What are you think about?”

“Well…have I been boring you lately?” she asked.

“No,” I replied honestly. “Why would you think that you were?”

“I don’t know. Remember in Chicago, we’d always find something to do? Like go out to bars, acoustic coffee shops, and just walk around aimlessly downtown?”

I nodded.

“We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?” she asked.

“Yes, I guess…”

“Lately, I’ve been wondering if I was boring you. We never do anything anymore.”

“Am I boring you?”

“No, I like being with you. I’m just worried that you’re bored.”

“I can never be bored with you, Pam,” I told her. “I don’t need to go out to bars or coffee shops or wherever to have fun when I’m with you. I love being with you, especially when we’re just sitting around doing nothing. Honestly. All I need is to be with you, and I’m fine…and I also need Jelly Bellies, ice cream, and beer…”

Pam giggled.

“You’re such a dork, Halpert,” she smiled.

“I know…”

“But I love it.”

“I’m glad you do, because I love it when you call me a whale’s penis. It’s flattering,” I joked.

“Pervert,” laughed Pam, pinching my arm. “Oh, and our house is a little big, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, just a little…”

“What do you think about kids?” she asked.

“You want to have kids already?”

“Only if you do,” Pam said softly, looking down at the sand. “I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to be forced into. But our house is pretty big for just the two of us…”

“I know,” I said. “Why do you think I picked that house, Pam? So that we could start a family there…”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just say the word, and we’ll get right down to making babies,” I smiled.

*****
Pam and I were both hungry as we drove back home. So that’s how we ended up in this diner. She ordered some waffles, and I ordered pancakes. Pam ate with gusto, occasionally smiling up at me with her mouth full. It was adorable…

“Okay, so baby names,” Pam said as she swallowed a piece of her waffle.

“Isn’t it bad luck to start choosing baby names before we even have a baby?” I asked.

“I don’t know…where’d you hear that?”

“I think in a movie…I heard it somewhere…”

“Well, I want to play the baby name game,” Pam huffed.

“Okay…um…how about…Astronomer?” I joked. “If celebrities can name their babies stuff like Apple and Jet Pilot, I want to name our kid Astronomer…”

Pam giggled.

“All the kids at school would call him Ass Astronomer,” Pam laughed.

“Wow…how’d you come up with that?”

“My brother…he’d always call his friends Ass Astronomer when he was a kid.”

“Hm…scratch that. How about…if it’s a girl, we call her Franz…”

“Are you even taking this seriously?” Pam asked.

“Aw, don’t be mad…I’m only having some fun…”

“I wish you would take this seriously, Jim. Because who names their girl Franz? Obviously, Bruno or Fabio is a much better name for a girl!”

Pam’s cheeks turned red as she tried to hold in her laughter.

“I like Clarissa for a boy. Maybe we can take him to a tanning salon like those show moms do, and he can be bronze, and we can name him Bronzeicle…” I said, as Pam burst into laughter.

“Jim?” she asked seriously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure…”

“When we do have a kid, you’re not going to call me ‘mother’ or ‘mom’ are you?”

“Probably not, why?”

“I just think it’s kind of gross when I see married people calling each other father or mother…”

“I totally agree,” I nodded seriously. “So yeah, we won’t call each other mother or father when we have a kid.”

“Good,” Pam smiled, tending to her waffles again.

We finished our meals in silence, occasionally glancing up and grinning at each other like we were in high school, and we had both admitted that we had crushes on each other.

“How about we go for a simple name?” Pam asked moments later. “I mean, what’s wrong with John or Elizabeth, you know?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, we both have simple names…we’re simple people,” I agreed. “Fuck it, Jonathan and Elizabeth it is then!”

*****
“And then we made out,” Jim smiled. “For real though…”

Holly smiled kindly at Jim, noticing that he never flinched when he talked about Pam. His eyes would always light up, and he would always appear younger. She wondered if she had done the same whenever she talked about Michael. But now, thinking about Michael left her feeling bitter sweet. He would probably break things off with her…

“You wanted to name your baby Astronomer?” Holly asked, shaking Michael away from her thoughts with difficulty.

“No,” Jim smiled. “Come on…I’m not famous enough to look cool for naming my kid a crazy name like that. Pam and I...we were two simple people, why shouldn’t we have a simple name for our kid?”

“Yeah…” Holly agreed, thinking that if she could have a child, she would name it James or Pamela. Holly placed her knife and fork down on her plate, and left some money on the table. “You ready to head out?”

4:10 AM

The Calm Before the Storm

They walked slowly around the coast of Montauk Point. Holly watched as Jim closed his eyes lightly as if he were drinking in his surroundings. She looked away quickly as he opened his eyes.

“I noticed that I really love beaches,” Jim told her. “And meadows…but I’m not a big fan of forests…”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Jim replied. “Something’s can’t be explained. I can’t explain why I love beaches and meadows. They just leave me with a light feeling that makes me feel good…”

Holly nodded.

“But anyway, we need to talk about Michael…” Jim said. “Do you think he’s going to leave you?”

Holly remained silent, yet she did think that Michael would leave her. Why wouldn’t he? He had been with his ex-girlfriend Jan who treated him terribly only because he wanted kids. Sure, it was selfish, but Michael had really loved kids. And Holly knew what it was like to want kids, because she wanted kids as well.

“I think so,” Holly replied finally.

“Well…if he does,” Jim said, wrapping an arm around Holly’s shoulder. “He’s an idiot. But I’m pretty sure he won’t. I mean, if I was into Improv while I was with Pam, I’m pretty sure she would never go to my classes with me. Michael appreciates you…sure, I don’t know him, but you guys seem so intimate, and you’ve only been together for like three months or so…”

“Yeah, but…”

“Holly,” Jim said sharply. “Pam and I didn’t connect as well as you and Michael are right now when we had been dating for three months. We were shy as hell…yeah, I make it sound like we connected just like that, but it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Of course not,” Jim laughed. “We were best friends before we started dating. Sure we liked each other, but admitting that to each other was like…it made us feel vulnerable. It’s like we exposed our weaknesses to each other. We were shy as hell for the first couple of months that we dated. Every time a date ended, we would just sit there and wonder whether we should kiss or not…”

“I didn’t see that one coming…”

Jim laughed. “It wouldn’t have been awkward if Pam and I had started dating when we met. I know there was a part of me that really wanted to, but…Megan—oh well, it’s all in the past now. I’m just glad that I lived long enough to meet my soul mate.”

“Yeah,” Holly grinned up at Jim.

“And I think you found your soul mate too, Holly,” Jim said. “You should talk about Michael in front of a mirror and see how your face lights up.”

“I know that I love him,” Holly said. “But I don’t know if he loves me…”

“If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have asked you to move in with him. That’s a huge step for a guy. Like…he’s exposing you to his true self, and that takes a lot of trust and love for a guy to do that,” Jim explained. “I know he loves you too, and I bet you anything that he won’t leave you. Just give him some space, and I promise you that he’ll call.”

“I’m going to take you at your word, Halpert,” Holly said, suddenly feeling warm despite the near zero degree temperature. “Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” Holly smiled. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably never would have asked Michael out.”

“Meh…I was being serious about you finding a nice guy for a good fuck though,” Jim admitted. “So I don’t know if…”

“Yeah, but I’m glad I took that in the wrong context,” Holly laughed. “But can I ask you what you were angry about today?”

Jim ran his hand through his hair, and brought it down to his mouth and began chewing on his thumbnail. As if he realized that he had been forbidden from chewing on his thumbnail, he quickly shot his hand down.

“Last week, I finished my Will,” Jim said softly. “And…I started thinking. You know, I thought about my parents, my brothers, my two unborn kids, and of course, Pam. I started to blame myself for all the pain I caused them, and I hated myself…and I hate, hate to use the tumor excuse, but…I got angry, and I really couldn’t control my anger. And of course, I took it all out on you, and again, I’m sorry about the things I said…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Holly said, understanding where Jim was coming from. Sometimes you just have to blow off steam…

“Do you believe in God?” Jim asked quietly.

“No, I’m an atheist…”

“I never really believed that there was a god until Pam died,” Jim said. “Because I had to comfort myself, you know? She was such a great person, and she made everyone around her happy. I had to believe that there was a heaven. Because I had to believe that if anyone deserved heaven, it would be someone as…pure as Pam that deserved it.”

“Yeah, I can see how you think that,” Holly nodded.

Jim sat down on a fallen log, pulling Holly down next to him.

“My parents each had their own businesses. My dad ran a bookshop, and my mom gave piano lessons,” Jim began. “They made decent money, enough to buy a nice, big house for me and my brothers. But they were always frugal…and health insurance for people with small businesses is expensive as hell. So we didn’t have it. When I was sixteen, my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was pretty serious, but by the time the doctors found it, it was pretty much too late to do anything. She died a year later, and I blamed myself. My mom always wanted to leave my dad, but I begged her not to. So she stayed, and told me she’d wait till I went off to college. I knew my mom was cheating on my dad, but I told her to break it off, and stay with my dad. The man that my mom was having an affair with was rich…if I just let her go, she would have been able to go to regular check ups, and they would have found that cancer early. But I was selfish. I told her to stay with my dad…and she died six months after we found out.”

Holly looked up to Jim’s face, seeing that tears were forming in his eyes.

“Jim, it’s natural for a child to want their parents to stay together,” she said, rubbing her hand along his back. “You can’t blame yourself for your mom’s death…”

Jim shook his head.

“And after she died, I stopped talking to my dad,” he continued. “He would come into my room every night, and apologize for everything, but I never listened. One night, just before I went off to Berkeley, I blamed my dad for my mom dying. I called him an asshole, and I just went off on him. I told him that if he wasn’t so cheap, Mom would be alive. And he broke down in tears…and the last thing I said to him was ‘I wish you would have died instead.’ The next morning, I found him dead in his car in the garage. Are you going to tell me that that wasn’t my fault?”

“It wasn’t,” Holly said, clutching onto Jim’s hand. “Your father made that choice. You didn’t make it for him. Jim, look at me. It wasn’t your fault, Jim.”

Jim began to sob harder, and Holly pulled him down to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his frail body.

“It’s not your fault,” Holly repeated softly into his ear.

“It was…” his voice muffled.

“I can see why you blame yourself, but Jim, your father lost who he thought was the love of his life,” Holly explained. “I know that a part of him died when your mother died. He made his own choice. He knew that you had your brothers to look out for you…he made sure that you were going off to college, and that you would be safe. I think he made that decision long before you said anything.”

“But do you see now?” Jim asked, pulling his face away from Holly’s shoulder. “Do you see why I didn’t get the operation?”

“No…” Holly replied honestly.

“Think about it…I blamed myself for my parents’ death, and Megan and my unborn baby—”

“How can you blame yourself for that? She got an abortion without telling you…”

“She tried to tell me about the baby,” Jim said. “But I was too self-absorbed. I was working on music for those kids’ movies…when she came to my apartment, she said she wanted to talk, and I told her that we’d talk in the morning. But the next day, she got the abortion…”

“There’s no way you could have known that she was pregnant, Jim…”

“Holly…don’t…” Jim said, shaking his head. “I’m…I’m trying to tell you why I’ve been holding back on the surgery…”

Although she wanted nothing more than to comfort her friend, Holly remained quiet. She gave Jim’s hand a firm squeeze, and waited in anticipation to finally find out why…

*****
For months, I’ve been having headaches. They were only quick flashes, but they were still excruciating. Whenever I ate, my left temple would hurt like hell. I would later find out that it was due to my temple constricting whenever I chewed food, so that explains why I lost so much weight. It hurt to eat, it hurt to talk, and it hurt to listen.

I would find myself becoming overly emotional, and my right arm and leg would shake uncontrollably. I would later find out that I was having minor seizures. But those were signs that I had ignored for seven months. I should have known. I was a healthy twenty-nine year old man with no history of headaches or twitches…I should have known even then that there was something wrong with me.

There were days when I would dwell upon my parents and Megan, and I would become angry for no reason. I’d later find out that the tumor affected my emotions; specifically anger. I would try to hold my anger in, and I did a good job at that. I blamed my anger on stress, along with the fact that Pam was six months pregnant, I was afraid of being a father, although there was nothing I wanted more. And to add on, I had just been offered to write the score for my first major film, so I usually spent hours in my office writing music. The music would cause my head to ache again…and I ignored it.

Then, on the night that Pam and our baby died, I felt the greatest pain in my head that I’ve ever felt. The pain was so strong that I fell out of my office chair, causing a loud crashing noise. My synthesizers crashed to the ground, and the speakers issued a high pitched feedback sound. Of course, it woke Pam up.

“Jim?” she asked, rushing into the office, and kneeling down next to me. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“My fucking head…” I gasped, clutching onto my temple. I tried to take deep, calming breaths, as if I were in labor or something, but it didn’t help. I knew something was wrong, because usually the pain would have subsided by now.

“I’ll help you get back to bed…” she said, trying to pull me up. I shook my head.

“I need…hospital,” I breathed out. “Take me…”

“Okay…help me get you up,” Pam said, one hand tugging at my elbow, the other on her stomach. Our baby was obviously kicking…

Pam helped me down the stairs, throwing quick glances at me to make sure that I was okay. My right arm began to tremble again.

“Jim…what’s wrong with your arm?” she asked, genuinely looking worried.

“I don’t know,” I snapped, the pain in my head still ringing. “If I knew, we wouldn’t have to go to the hospital, would we?”

I saw Pam biting back her retort. She opened the garage door, and helped me into her car—the tiny Yaris. She walked quickly to the driver’s side, and pulled out of the garage.

“I’m sorry that I snapped at you,” I said, still clutching at my temple.

“It’s fine, babe,” she said, giving me a quick smile. “God…I hope you’re okay…is it your head that hurts?”

“Yeah,” I winced, another wave of pain shot through. “Fuck…”

“You’ll be okay, Jim,” Pam comforted. “You’re going to be okay…”

“You should slow down,” I told her, finally noticing the streaks of white headlights. “It’s really dark out…”

“I’m fine…it’s fine,” Pam said. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay…”

I tried to calm my breathing. My heart was beating faster…I was scared. I didn’t know what was going on. The lights from the other cars made me dizzy. I shut my eyes.

“Talk to me, Jim,” Pam called. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m sure that the right thing to do is to make sure you’re conscious…”

I let out a laugh.

“Smart, Beesly,” I said, recoiling in pain. “What do you want to talk about?”

“How’s the music coming?” Pam asked, looking slightly panicked.

“Bad,” I replied. “It’s all shitty…”

“You say that about all of your music.”

“I know,” I said. “How’s the baby doing?”

“Kicking,” Pam replied.

“Okay…so what do you think the weather’s going to be like tomorrow?” I asked in a desperate attempt to calm Pam down. She was driving too fast…

“Good, I think,” Pam said shakily.

“Pam, I’m going to be okay,” I said. “You need to slow down, okay? Just a little…”

And I felt my whole body tensing up.

“Jim?!” Pam cried. I heard her seatbelt buckle clinking on the glass. I wanted to tell her to put her seatbelt back on, and pay attention to the road, but I couldn’t speak. “OH MY GOD, JIM!” Pam screamed. I wanted to tell her that it was okay…that I was okay.

And then everything went black.

*****
5:21 AM

The Storm

“The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital,” Jim said. “The nurses told me that we were hit by a pick up truck…on Pam’s side. She ran a red light because I was having a seizure. They told me that she was in surgery, and that I needed to get an MRI because I hit my head on the window.”

“Jesus…” Holly quietly said, tears forming in her eyes.

“I waited, the first doctor to talk to me was one of Pam’s surgeons. She said the baby didn’t make it, but it was a boy. He died on impact,” Jim said, wiping his eyes. “And then another doctor came and told me that I had a tumor in my left temporal lobe, and that I would need an operation as soon as possible. I told him that I wanted to wait for Pam…I waited for seven hours. The attending surgeon came in my room, and I already knew what happened. Pam died…my Pam…”

Jim looked up at the sky, blinking his eyes.

“Guh…” he gasped. “They…they s-s-said that there was too much bleeding and her left lung was punctured…”

“Jim,” Holly cried, pulling Jim into another embrace. “I’m so, so sorry…”

Jim shook his head.

“It was my fault,” he said, holding his hand up before Holly could say anything. “I should have just asked her to call an ambulance. If I didn’t tell her to drive me, none of this would have happened. But do you understand why I’m waiting?”

“No…”

“…it’s just…it feels like I should repent,” Jim said. “I’ve caused five people to lose their lives…and I wanted to suffer because I blamed myself. It’s not about God or religion…it’s the fact that I feel like…I’ve killed five innocent people. This tumor is my punishment, and I’ve been letting it torture me for sixteen months. That’s why I’ve waited for the surgery. It might not make sense to you, but it does for me…”

“You think that if you’ve suffered enough, you’ll be free from…regret?”

“Yeah,” Jim replied shamefully. “It’s selfish, and it’s stupid, but honestly, getting better has been the last thing on my mind up until now.”

“And you’ve waited this long to tell me?” Holly asked.

“If I told you this when I met you, you would think that I was some sort of masochist,” Jim said. “I wanted for you to get to know me, and I wanted to trust you. I do trust you, and I think you know me well enough to at least partially understand why I’ve been holding out on the surgery…”

She looked into his eyes. They were pleading for her to understand. Holly realized that not matter how many times she said that everything bad that had happened to Jim wasn’t his fault, Jim wouldn’t believe it. His mind was set, she knew. He truly blamed himself for everything that had happened. She knew that his refusal for the surgery wasn’t out of fear for his own life. It was because he truly believed that he deserved to suffer through the pain. She imagined herself in Jim’s position. God…what would she do?

She gazed into the sky, staring out at the countless number of stars.

She saw her mother’s, her father’s, and Michael’s faces. What would she do if they had all died? What would she do if she blamed herself for their deaths as Jim was blaming himself for his loved ones? Would she have gotten the surgery? No…she wouldn’t see the point in living anymore. But Jim…he saw the point of living. He loved this world—the sandy beaches, the green and gold meadows, the wind, and remembering his happy moments with Pam. She knew that Jim wanted to live. She knew that Jim was afraid to die. But she also knew that Jim wanted to suffer because he felt as if he didn’t deserve any of that. He would have gladly traded places with his mother, his father, Megan’s and his child, his son, and Pam. But she knew that the world didn’t work that way.

“I understand…at least I think I do,” Holly said, turning to face Jim. Jim’s eyes were tightly shut, and his body tense. “Jim…?”

Suddenly Jim’s eyes sprang open. Holly only saw the whites of his eyes, and his whole body had begun to convulse.

The Prologue

“We listen to really depressing music, don’t we?” Pam asked, shuffling through the iTunes library. “Do you think ‘Keep Yourself Warm’ is appropriate?”

“By Frightened Rabbit?” Jim asked.

“Yeah,” said Pam.

“That song’s about shallow sex,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “Definitely not appropriate for the reception.”

“We can dedicate it to Katy,” Pam said. “She sleeps with randoms all the time…”

Jim laughed.

“It’s a good song, Beesly, but…”

“Yeah, I know…” Pam sighed, scrolling through the songs again.

“We could just hire a DJ,” Jim suggested.

“With our luck, our DJ will play the worst songs ever,” Pam huffed.

“Or hire a band?”

“Definitely not…”

“Fine,” Jim said. “It would have been so much easier to elope…”

“Yeah,” Pam agreed. “But I want the cheesy reception…I like cheesy.”

“Me too,” Jim chuckled. “Well, since we both like cheesy, we’re going to need Y.M.C.A playing on the loud speakers. I’d love to see your dad dancing to that.”

“Okay,” Pam giggled. “What should our first dance be?”

“You want to be rebellious, and hit the shuffle button?” Jim asked, walking over to the computer by Pam. “First song it plays, will be our first dance…”

“I hope it’s ‘I’m Not a Girl’ by Britney,” Pam teased, crossing her fingers.

“It’s a good song, Pam,” Jim insisted.

“Only you would have a song like that on your computer…” Pam giggled.

“Oh, me and millions of other people,” Jim huffed.

“Millions of other girls, maybe…”

“You know what—?!”

“Quiet, it’s the moment of truth…” Pam said, clicking the shuffle button. “Our first dance will be to…” Pam clicked the play button. “Oh! ‘Sing!’ I love this song!”

“Hm…I don’t know, Pam…” Jim sighed. “I don’t know if we could dance to this…”

“We could sway…”

“Swaying isn’t dancing,” Jim shrugged. “But you know what? Screw it…this will be our first song.”

*****
5:18 PM

Forgiveness

beep…beep…beep…

Sitting in an uncomfortably hard, plastic chair, her body ached. She wrapped her arms around her own body and squeezed. The knuckles on her fingers were white from clutching onto her phone. She gazed upon the sedated Jim, asleep—peaceful. The IV fluids brought color back to Jim’s usually grayish tinted face. She gazed upon her friend, wishing with all of her heart that when he woke up, he’d choose surgery.

The room was painted in a light green. The sun outside fought to break through the gray clouds. Outside the room, doctors and nurses scrambled into their patients’ rooms. Inside of this room, it was only she and Jim.

Although her bladder was full, her stomach empty, and her lower body was asleep, Holly would not move. She wanted to be here when Jim woke up. She wanted him to see a familiar face. Her friend’s eyes were closed, yet his lips were slightly curled upward, as if he were smiling.

And she heard a familiar voice from outside the hospital room.

“Jim,” the voice said loudly. “He has a brain tumor or something…listen, my girlfriend’s in his room, and he’s her friend! I drove here for the last six hours, and my ass hurts…I just want to see my girlfriend!”

Holly rose from her chair, and walked out into the hall. She saw Michael, his face red, panicked, speaking to a nurse.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the elder nurse said. “Friends and family only…”

“Gah! How hard is it to poke your head in and ask for Holly Flax?” Michael demanded, and Holly caught herself smiling as she saw Michael wave his arms about.

“Michael,” she called down the hall, walking towards her boyfriend.

“Oh, thank god,” Michael sighed, meeting Holly halfway and embracing her.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked him.

“Phyllis told me this morning,” Michael replied. “I tried calling you, but I guess your phone’s dead…”

Holly glanced down at her phone, and saw that it was off. The battery must have died…

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Holly said. “Why are you here?”

Michael’s face flushed from red to crimson.

“I thought…maybe…I brought Jim some Mini Mounds Bars,” Michael replied, holding up a duffle bag. “And I brought you some clothes and Patrick…if you want me to leave, I can…”

Holly beamed up at Michael as he dug her stuffed Scottish Terrier, Patrick, she had since she was a child out of the bag.

“Here,” Michael said, handing her the toy dog. “I know that you like to have him when you’re scared…”

Holly took the stuffed animal, and wrapped her arms around the back of Michael’s neck. Pulling Michael into a kiss, she tried to tell him everything without saying anything. She wanted to tell him that she missed him, and how happy she was that he was here. She wanted to apologize for never telling him that she was unable to get pregnant. She wanted to let him know how much she loved him.

“Thank you,” she said when they pulled away.

“No problem,” Michael said. “Are you okay? You look tired…”

“I’m fine,” Holly replied. “I’m just worried about Jim…”

“How is he?”

“He had a seizure,” Holly said. “And the doctors say that a blood vessel popped…he may not be able to talk when he wakes up. We have to wait till his brothers get here before they can operate. So…I don’t think he’s doing good…he’s been sleeping the whole time.”

“Oh god…” Michael breathed. “What were you guys doing in New York?”

“I wanted to go to Montauk last night,” Holly said guiltily. “I was upset about you, and…I didn’t want to go alone. I asked Jim to go with me, and…it’s my fault. I should have known better than to drive him around for hours, and walk around…”

“Come on, Holly-gram,” Michael said. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know this would happen. Come on, I booked us a hotel room. You should sleep…”

“No,” Holly said, shaking her head. “I want to be here when he wakes up…he’ll be scared, and he may not be able to talk…”

Michael hesitated for a moment.

“Okay…then I’ll wait with you…”

*****
The End

The blades of grass tickled his legs. Although the weather couldn’t have been more beautiful, Jim couldn’t find the beauty in it. He leaned on his crutches, tears falling down his face. He had never felt so defeated.

It was only a year ago since he was last here. It looked the same. It smelled the same. But it didn’t feel the same. He always knew that he would be back on this meadow, but he always envisioned being here with Pam by his side. It felt like yesterday when he stood here with her. Her hair tickled his face, the scent of it mixed with the fresh air intoxicated him.

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” asked Pam’s mother, Helene, her eyes glazed with tears.

“This is what she wanted,” Jim replied.

Pam’s father held up the scattering urn to Jim.

“Would you like to say a prayer, son?” he asked.

Jim hung his head down, felling ashamed.

“I…I don’t know any,” Jim admitted. “I’m sorry…”

Jim felt another twinge of pain as Mrs. Beesly took the young man’s hand. She held it in the same motherly way that his mother had held it so long ago...

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mrs. Beesly sniffed. “Joe and I will say a prayer for her…”

“Thank you…”

Mr. Beesly opened the urn, and Jim could no longer compose himself. The tears fell down his face, his whole body trembling with the feeling of heartbreak. And as Mr. Beesly gave his son in law’s shoulder a squeeze, Jim saw the gray ashes resting in the urn. And it hurt him in ways that he didn’t know or understand. Mr. and Mrs. Beesly softly said an ‘Our Father’, and with great effort, Jim grabbed a handful of ashes.

“Goodbye, Pam…” he muttered softly. “I love you…”

The ashes slid through his fingers, some fell straight down the ground, the others blew away in the wind.

*****
6:34 PM

Speechless

Holly had changed into her old Penn State shirt and her sweatpants. She traded in her leather boots for hospital slippers, and she rest her head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s soft snores mixed with the beeping noise of the monitors in an odd harmony. Nurses would filter in and out of the room to check on Jim’s vitals. They would always ask Holly if she needed anything, and Holly always said no. She knew they couldn’t give her what she wanted most. And what she wanted most was to see Jim awake and being able to speak. There was still so much that Holly had wanted to know about him; so many questions about her own life that she wanted Jim to answer for her.

She looked across the room at Jim—her friend…the little brother she had never had. Holly hated thinking about that…it’s such a cliché thing to say or feel. But he was. Jim was the younger, smarter, more experienced brother to Holly. And it was torture for her seeing him like this, not knowing whether or not he’ll be able to speak…

She gently unwrapped Michael’s arm from her body, and slowly lifted herself from the hard plastic chair. She walked over to Jim’s bed, and brushed his hair to the side. His eyelids began to flutter, and they opened slowly. Holly turned to call for a nurse, but Jim grabbed her wrist. He smiled weakly up at her.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, glad to see her friend finally awake and smiling.

Jim nodded.

“Do you know what happened?”

Jim shook his head.

“You had a seizure last night…” Holly said, hesitating before saying, “A blood vessel popped in your right temporal lobe…the doctors…Jim, what’s my name?”

Jim looked up at Holly with a puzzled expression. She closed her eyes, fearing for the worst.

“The doctors say that there might be a chance that…you might not be able to pronounce words…” Holly explained, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “What’s my name, Jim?”

Jim’s mouth opened.

“Hah…hah…guh…” he struggled, suddenly looking panicked and scared. He moaned loudly, struggling to pronounce Holly’s name. Michael was shaken awake, and he stirred.

“Holly, what’s going—” Holly raised her hand to shush Michael.

“Its okay, Jim. It’s gonna be okay,” Holly said frantically as Jim tried to sit up. “Calm down, Jim!”

Jim took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He looked up at Holly in fear.

“Okay,” Holly said. “Try again. Watch my mouth, and say, ‘Holl-eey’ nice and easy, Jim…”

“Hah…ugh…lee…” Jim gasped. “Hah-ugh-lee…”

“That’s good,” Holly smiled. “That’s really good…once they perform the operation, they’ll fix the vessel, and you shouldn’t have any problems, okay?”

Jim nodded, “Hah-ugh-lee…”

“That’s good, Jim…your brothers should be here soon, okay?” Holly said, and Jim nodded again. “I’m going to get a nurse…”

Holly rushed out of Jim’s room, Michael following close behind.

“Excuse me,” Holly called to a nurse. The nurse looked up. “Nancy, right?”

The nurse nodded, “Yes, how can I help you?”

“Jim Halpert is awake…”

“Okay, I’ll page Dr. Connors…”

“Thank you,” Holly walked back into Jim’s room. “Jim, the doctor’s coming in to talk to you okay?”

Jim nodded, still looking scared. Holly had some knowledge of brain functions, and she decided to check Jim’s memory to make sure that it was still intact.

“Jim, can you try to tell me your wife’s name?” she asked.

“Puh…puh-am,” he stuttered. Holly smiled.

“Good,” Holly said, relieved.

Michael walked up awkwardly to Jim’s bed, and Jim looked up curiously at him.

“Hey, buddy,” Michael said. “I’m Michael…um…I don’t know if you could eat these yet, but just hold on to them…”

Michael handed Jim a bag filled with Mini Mounds Bars, and Jim smiled in thanks.

“Chocolate does the soul good,” Michael said to Holly. He stepped aside, and filled a cup up with water, handing it to Jim. “You’re probably thirsty, right?”

Jim took a sip of water.

“Thu-ank ooh,” he said.

“You’re welcome, guy,” Michael smiled, giving Jim’s shoulder a squeeze. “Oh, here’s the doctor…”

Dr. Connors, an elderly man stood over Jim. Holly and Michael took a step back, and Michael wrapped his hand around hers.

“Hello, Mr. Halpert,” said the doctor. “I’m Dr. Connors…as you know, your brother, Tom, has power of attorney. When he gets here to sign the forms, we’ll be ready to operate. As for your condition…you had an epileptic seizure this morning, and that caused a small vessel in your right temporal lobe to pop. So for right now, you’re going to have trouble pronouncing words, but we should be able to patch up the artery, and you’ll be able to speak again. And as for your tumor, let’s just say that you’re lucky that you came in today. If you waited another week, there’s a high chance that your tumor would have hemorrhaged.”

Jim nodded.

“We’re going to do everything we can, Mr. Halpert,” Dr. Connors promised. “We’ll do our best to get you back up and running.”

Jim pointed to his mouth.

“Yes, we will be able to fix that,” Dr. Connors replied. “You’re going to be in good hands, sir.”

“Thu-ank ooh,” Jim slurred.

“No problem. If you need anything, just page the nurses, okay?”

Jim nodded as the doctor gave his shoulder a squeeze, and left the room giving Holly and Michael a reassuring smile. They thanked the doctor, and walked back up to Jim’s bed. Jim still looked scared. Holly looked up at Michael who was staring down at Jim with sadness in his eyes. Holly knew that Michael wanted to say something along the lines of, ‘God, if I couldn’t speak, I’d kill myself…’ and she was glad that he was holding that back.

“You should be able to write,” Holly said, handing Jim a notepad that was on the nightstand. “Do you have anything you want us to know?”

Jim took the notepad and pen from Holly’s hand. He scribbled down on the paper, and held the pad up for Holly to see.

“Are you and Michael okay now?”

Holly chuckled, and looked up at Michael.

“I don’t know, are we?” she asked.

“Of course we are,” Michael said. “We’re good now…”

Jim smiled and gave a thumbs up sign at Michael.

“When is Tom getting here?” Jim wrote.

“His flight should be landing in an hour,” Holly replied. Jim nodded. He tore a piece of paper off of the pad, and handed it to Holly. He pointed to her and then himself.

“Ret…uhr,” Jim slurred.

“Letter?” Holly asked. “You want me to write you a letter?”

Jim nodded, and scribbled down.

“Just in case that I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” Holly scolded, but Jim pointed to the ‘Just in case’ part.

“Puhleeze…”

“Okay, Jim,” Holly said. “I’ll write it right now…”

Jim nodded in thanks, and pointed to the notepad, then to himself, and then to Holly.

“You’re going to write me one too?”

Jim nodded again.

“Juh-ust…guh…hin…case,” he stammered.

“Just in case,” Holly repeated. “But you’re not going to die. At least, you better not die…”

Jim smiled, and nodded once more.

*****
7:41 PM

Only a Fool’s Hope

Holly and Michael sat in the waiting area. She was writing her letter to Jim, as Michael patiently waited. Tom had called Holly thirty minutes earlier. She explained everything to him. He would be at the hospital soon…

When she finished writing, she folded up the paper, and smiled up at Michael.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Goodbye…you know, just in case,” she replied, not wanting to think about her friend being dead. “And I also told him that if he did die, then I’d kill him again. I want him to see us getting married one day…”

“You think we’ll get married?” Michael asked, looking shocked.

“Hopefully…if you want to…” Holly said shyly. Michael blushed, and took Holly’s hand.

“One day we will,” he promised.

“I’m sorry about yesterday…” Holly said. “I should have told you before…”

“Water under the tunnel, Holly-gram,” Michael smiled.

“It’s ‘water under the bridge,’” Holly corrected, giggling.

“Yeah, well…” Michael shrugged. “So I was thinking about you all night last night…I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.”

“You’re the best…”

“You’re the betterest,” Holly said. Michael smiled, and yawned. “Do you want to go to the hotel?” Holly asked.

“I’m fine,” Michael replied. “I just want to be with you…”

Holly blushed, and smiled up at Michael.

“Michael?” she asked. “Are you from Tennessee?”

“No, you know I grew up here…”

“Oh, I was only asking because…you’re the only ten I see…”

Michael stared down confusedly at Holly’s playful smile. Slowly, his eyes began to light up, as if he finally realized the joke.

“Oh, I get it…” Michael laughed. “That was pretty good.”

“I know, right?” Holly winked.

“Were you born on a farm?” Michael asked. Holly shook her head, and Michael said loudly, “Because you sure know how to raise cocks!”

The other patients’ families in the waiting room gasped, looking appalled. But Holly and Michael didn’t care, they both laughed to themselves. Holly wrapped her arms around Michael, and leaned into his shoulder.

“I love you, Holly.”

“I love you too, Michael.”

*****
The Beginning

“I, Pamela Morgan Beesly, take you, James Andrew Halpert, to be my husband, my partner, and my one true love.” Pam announced, looking into Jim’s eyes. “I will cherish forever our friendship and our love. I promise, with all my heart, to love you each day—no matter how hard things may be. I promise to cherish every single moment that I have with you for the rest of my life: the good, the bad, the happy, and the sad. I will cherish them. I give you my hand to hold, and my heart is yours to keep. I love you, Jim…”

Jim beamed down at Pam as he gently brushed a tear off of Pam’s cheek.

“You’re going to ruin your makeup,” he mumbled softly so that only Pam could hear. He gave her a wink, but Pam pinched the webbing between his fingers.

“You’re totally ruining the moment,” Pam smiled.

“Really?”

“No…” she said, smiling lovingly at her soon to be husband.

“And now,” the priest announced. “The groom’s vows…”

Jim cleared his throat, and smiled lovingly at Pam.

“Do you remember our first conversation? How we shared our love for the same bands? That was the day that I realized that you were different from other women. When I saw your eyes lighting up, you made me feel something inside that I’ve never felt before. To this day, your smile brings warmness to my heart. There’s no other soul on this planet that can do that but you. I promise you, Pamela that no matter what happens, I will never stop loving you. I promise you that I will forever cherish our love each and everyday. I promise you that with each passing day, I will love you more than the previous day. When we get old and we get that old person smell, I promise you that I won’t say anything…”

Pam along with the audience laughed. Jim gave Pam a crooked smile, and squeezed her hand. He felt her thumb brushing against his…

“No matter what happens, I promise that I will forever be your best friend, your confidant, and your lover. I promise to hold you when you’re cold, to nurture you when you’re sick, and to do my best to put a smile on your face everyday. I love you, Pam.”

*****

9:32 PM

The Beginning or the End of a Beautiful Friendship

“Jim asked me to give this to you,” Pete said, walking up to Holly who was still in the waiting room. Pete handed her Jim’s letter.

“Thank you…”

“No problem,” Pete smiled. “Thank you for being here for so long…I could pay for your hotel room…”

“Oh, my boyfriend took care of that,” Holly said, smiling down at Michael who was asleep in his chair. “But thank you…”

“Okay then…I think that Jim would like to see you, actually,” Pete said, running a hand through his hair in a way that reminded Holly of Jim. “They’re prepping the O.R.”

“Okay,” Holly nodded. She looked down at Michael. “Can you let him know where I am in case he wakes up?”

“Sure thing,” Pete said. “And thanks again for staying here with Jim. Tom and I really appreciate it…”

“It’s nothing,” Holly said, waving it off. “Um…I’ll be right back…”

Holly walked down the corridor to Jim’s room. Jim was propped up, looking out at the dark orange sky, watching the snowflakes falling. Holly gently knocked on the open door, and Jim beckoned her in. He pointed to Holly, and made a writing motion.

“Yeah, I finished your letter,” Holly smiled. “And Pete gave me your letter that you wrote for me.”

Jim gave a thumbs up.

“Are you scared?” Holly asked. Jim grabbed the notepad from his lap, and began writing.

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

Holly chuckled. “It’s okay to be scared. So uh…Michael and I made plans to get married…”

Jim smiled, and wrote down, “He proposed?”

“No,” Holly replied. “Not yet, but one day…you better be there.”

Jim nodded, making an OK sign with his hand.

“Do you promise?” Holly waited as Jim wrote.

“If I live, of course I’ll be there.”

Holly frowned sternly down at Jim.

“You know you’re going to live,” she scolded. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve met. You won’t die…”

Jim chuckled, and raised his arms up to Holly. Holly bent down, and embraced Jim, not knowing why there were tears were forming in her eyes. Jim’s getting the surgery…he’s going to be okay…

“Ugh…wove ooh,” Jim said.

“I love you too, Jim,” Holly sobbed. “You better not die…”

Jim released Holly, and wrote down, “I’ll try not to.”

“Good,” Holly said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. The skin around her eyes was raw from all the tears she had shed throughout the day, and Jim handed her a tissue. “Thank you,” she sniffed, dabbing the tissue on her eyes. Jim began to write again.

“I want to read your letter…just in case.”

“Okay,” Holly said, hugging Jim one last time.

“Guh-ud bye, Hah-ugh-lee,” Jim said.

“Goodbye, Jim,” Holly said, just in case.

*****
9:58 PM

Just in Case

Jim,

I really don’t know why I’m writing you this letter. We both know that you’re going to be okay. I know you’re going to read this before you go into surgery, and I just hope you go in there with positive thoughts.

I’ve never met anyone so stubborn in my life until I met you. Your refusal to talk about your tumor frustrated the hell out of me. I remember thinking that you were a liar when you told me that you weren’t suicidal. To be honest, I thought you were crying out for attention. You have no idea how hesitant I was to take you in as a patient. Because that’s what you were to me—a patient.

But I was wrong. You became my friend, and as much as I hate to say this (because it’s so cliché), you became a brother that I’ve never had. I liked that you took interest in my personal life. To be honest, no one really took interest. So thank you for that.

I really don’t know what to say…I do know that I plan on getting married to Michael one day, so you better be there. If you do die, I will find you, and kill you twice. You HAVE to be at the wedding, because I think you’ll look pretty in a dress. Yes, I want you to be the maid of honor. I won’t take no for answer. KIDDING! Or am I…?

There are so many things that you still need to do, so you BETTER not die. First of all, you have to get to know Michael. For some reason, I think the two of you will be good friends, even though you’re polar opposites of each other. But it would be nice to have you in our lives. Secondly, I never told you this, but I’m a pretty good cook. So once you’re better, I’m inviting you over for dinner. You name the dish, and I promise you that my cooking will blow your mind. And last, but not least, you’ll have a second chance of life. You’ll be able to meet new people, maybe fall in love again (which I’m sure is the last thing on your mind since you and Pam were so perfect for each other), and essentially, start all over.

In all honesty, if this is the last thing you read, just know that everything that happened wasn’t your fault. I promise you that. If it is your time to go, go with a clear mind. Go with no regrets. And know that you will be missed. Because I promise you, I WILL miss you if it is your time to go. I don’t know what I would do without you. As you probably know, I don’t have many friends, that is to say, I don’t have many true friends. And although we’ve only known each other for a little while, I grew to love you as my best friend. Whether in life or death, I wish you the best of luck.

Love Always,
Holly

Jim folded the note, and placed it on the nightstand next to his hospital bed as a sea of nurses and doctors came into his room. One of them shaved his head, while another checked his pupils. From the corner of his eye, he saw his brothers Tom and Pete, and wished he had the strength to apologize to them for putting them through so much pain.

He felt as if he was floating, as the doctors rolled his bed out of the room. Jim reached out for his brothers’ hands.

“We’ll see you when you wake up, Jimmy,” Tom smiled down at him.

“Yeah, and you’re getting a titty twister for scaring the shit out of us,” Pete chuckled.

Jim smiled up at his brothers.

“Duh-ank ooh,” he struggled to say.

And just like that, as the doctors rolled him down to the Operating Room, he feared that that would be that last time he would see his brothers.

*****
Holly watched Michael sleeping on the comfortable bed. Her eyelids were heavy, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. She wanted to go back to the hospital, but at the same time, she couldn’t stand to sit there. Waiting. She couldn’t stand being praised for “convincing Jim into the operation.” Maybe it was her doing, but she couldn’t help but feel the guilt pressing down on her chest. What if it was her fault that Jim had had that seizure in the first place? It probably was…she should have never asked him to go to Montauk. Yet…if Jim hadn’t had the seizure…he wouldn’t be in the Operating Room. Bittersweet…

She grabbed her purse, and turned on a small lamp in the hotel room. She opened one of the pockets of her purse, and pulled out the letter Jim had written her. And she hoped, with all her heart, that one day, she and Jim would be able to laugh about this…

Holly,

I never thought that I would say this, but it seems that the world has finally found a way for me to stop being a smart ass. There are so many more stories that I want to tell you, but unfortunately, I sound like a mix between a whale and a walrus at the moment. So you’re going to have to make due with my chicken scratch for awhile.

With that being said, I hope that my writing is legible.

Where do I begin with you, Holly Flax? I remember when I first met you. You were all uptight with a no nonsense attitude. Look at you now! You’re cracking jokes, you let your hair down, you’re actually laughing, and you just seem…so happy. And that makes me happy, Holly. It really does. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.

When I saw you with Michael today, I knew that he loves you as much as you love him. The look on his face said it all. You don’t even need my super facial expression reading abilities to see that. The look on his face was the same look on mine when I saw Pam walking down the aisle at our wedding. I don’t know Michael well, but I know he’ll treat you as if you’re the only thing in this world that matters to him. Be sure to thank him for me for the Mini Mounds Bars.

I thought about a lot today…some thoughts happy, the others sad…and I realized that there is nothing that I regret. I don’t regret waiting for this surgery. If anything, this tumor is as much of a blessing as it is a curse. It helped me to see the value of life. Not just my own, but for others as well. I won’t say that I know what the meaning of life is, but I can take a guess. The meaning of life is to learn. You learn how to love, you learn how to hate, you learn how to feel, and you learn that the harsh truth of life is that it rarely goes the way that you want it to. But I’m fine with that.

If today is my last day on this Earth, that’s fine. I’ve seen the beauty. I’ve seen the foul. I’ve felt love. I’ve felt hate. I’ve felt joy. I’ve felt sadness. I’ve felt pleasure. I’ve felt pain. What more is there to feel? I’ve felt it all. And if I die today, take pleasure in that fact.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to miss the hell out of you. If there is ONE thing that I regret, it’s that we had to meet under these circumstances. And if I’m lucky, and I live to see more days, I hope that you will still be in my life. You’ve been a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a mouth to listen to, an ear to talk to, a hand to hold onto, and a body to hug. When all others gave up on me, you were the one with hope. So with all my heart, I thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Without you, I would have given up so much sooner.

There’s a time to grieve, but there’s always a time to laugh. If I go, I wish I can tell you not to grieve. But not all grief is bad. Just like how not all laughter is good. Laughing at a fat kid falling down an escalator is funny, yes, but it’s still cruel.

With that being said, just know that I wish you all the happiness in the world. And I thank you for everything. I love you, Holly. But just in case I survive this surgery, I want you to know I love you in the friendly way. We don’t need any awkward silences.

Take care of yourself, Holly. Live your life to the fullest. If you find that you’re still hating your job, it’s never too late to start over. If you find that you’re lonely, take comfort in knowing that there’s always someone out there who’ll hold you. If you find that life isn’t going your way, know that there’s a way out of any situation. Just don’t kill yourself…that’s stupid.

Thank you for being there for me on my trip down memory lane. So just in case, I guess this is goodbye.

Love,

Jim

Holly carefully folded the letter, and brought it up to her lips. She placed the letter gently in her purse, and walked to the bed. As softly as possible, Holly laid next to Michael, pulled his arm over her, and kissed the tips of his fingers.

*****
10:25 PM

A Way Out

Jim looked up at a man wearing a surgical mask. The dark brown eyes, inexpressive, looked down upon Jim.

“When I put this mask on, I want you to count down from twenty,” said the man, holding up a breathing mask. Jim nodded, and felt the elastic wrap around his head.

“Start…now.”

20…

“Come on, bud, up you get,” said Robert Halpert, taking Jim’s hand, and pulling the young boy up to his feet. “Brush it off, son.”

Jim felt like crying, his elbow stinging.

“Do you want to try again?”

Jim shook his head, bending down to pick up the fallen bicycle.

“Come on, Jim. You gotta try, buddy. I know your elbow hurts, but…”

“I want to go home,” Jim sniffed, fighting to keep back his tears. “I don’t want to learn how to ride a stupid bike anymore.”

“Try one more time,” Robert urged. “You can do it, buddy. I know you can. Come on, do it for me!”

The boy looked up at his father, who smiled encouragingly back at him.

“Okay…don’t let go of me this time,” Jim said, throwing a leg over the bicycle.

“I won’t let go until you’re ready, son.”

19…

“Jim, honey, what’s wrong?” Larissa called as her teenaged son ran up the stairs. She followed him, and saw him face down on his bed. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked again, sitting down next to her son, gently stroking his hair in the way that mothers do to comfort a hurting child.

“Leave me alone!” Jim moaned into his pillow.

“Jim…you know you can talk to me about anything,” Larissa said.

Jim slowly turned his body to look up at his mother.

“Stephanie broke up with me today…” Jim said sadly.

“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry…”

“I don’t even know what I did wrong…” Jim sighed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Larissa smiled understandingly at Jim. “Sometimes certain people weren’t meant to be together. Sometimes you can love someone but they won’t love you back. But that just means that in the end, when you do find someone you love, and they do love you back, you’ll cherish that love…”

“I didn’t love her, Mom,” Jim chuckled, despite the unusual pain in his heart. “I’m only thirteen…”

“I know, sweetie. But you’ll understand what I mean one day,” Larissa nodded.

18…

Jim began to feel lighter, yet…his eyelids were heavy.

17…

Pam Halpert lay in her and Jim’s bed, clutching her blanket up to her chin. She was excruciatingly cold. Yet at the same time, she was excruciatingly hot. Cold sweat ran down the side of her face. The bedroom door slowly swung open, and she saw Jim walking in carrying two grocery bags.

“All right, Pam,” Jim said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I got you some Gatorade…a bunch of it. I don’t know what flavors you like, so I got one of each.”

Jim smiled, and handed Pam one of the heavy bags filled with bottles of the sports drinks. He held up her iPod.

“I made you a playlist. Pam's Flu Playlist 2007. Hopefully, I put in all of your favorite songs,” Jim continued, plugging the iPod in to the stereo on her nightstand. Soft music began to fill the room. “And I got you some vitamin C, and I’m making you some chicken noodle soup as we speak…”

“Aw, Jim,” Pam croaked, her throat sore. “Thank you…”

“It’s nothing,” Jim reassured, stroking his wife’s hair. Even when she was all clammy, she was still beautiful… “So are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,” Pam admitted.

“Aw…I’m sorry, baby,” Jim crooned. He leaned down to kiss Pam’s forehead, but she pulled away.

“I’m going to get you sick…”

“I don’t care,” Jim smiled, kissing her anyway. “I’ll be back with your soup and some OJ, okay?”

A week later, Jim lay in the bed. Cold sweat was dripping down his face, and he smiled as Pam walked in, holding a tray with chicken noodle soup.

16…
The room started to darken, and all Jim could see was a sea of blurred, blue heads.

15…

14…so dizzy…so tired…

Jim sat in the pew, surrounded by faces he didn’t know. A man stood at the altar, nervously shuffling his feet around. And Jim realized…this is a memory that he had never experienced. This was his imagination, he realized. His hope for the future…

Pachelbel’s Canon swelled the small chapel. Jim followed as the sea of bodies stood to face the entrance, and he saw her. Holly…looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her, looking happier than he had ever seen her…she beamed as she walked gracefully down the aisle. She gave Jim a wink before turning her focus to her soon to be husband, whose childish face was beaming as if he were the luckiest man in the world.

13…

Pam was leaned up against her bed, holding a small baby that had inherited his father’s large ears…

“You’re a daddy now…” Pam smiled up at him.

12…

His eyelids were shutting…

11…Pam…

******
Jim was used to waking up alone every morning. He sat up on his bed, and stretched. He loved the feeling of the muscles in his back tightening and loosening. Rubbing his eyes, he slid off of his bed, and made his way into the bathroom.

After his shower, Jim went downstairs into the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee. He glanced over at the microwave beeping 11:32 AM. He had slept far too long, and he realized that he was late for his appointment. Jim unplugged the coffee maker, and hurried back upstairs to change.

As he buttoned up his shirt, he examined himself in the mirror. His face flushed red from the heat of the shower. He forgot to shave though…

He hurried back downstairs and left the house.

As he drove, the sounds of Radiohead issuing from the stereo, he saw gray clouds starting to form. He knew that it was going to snow. And that excited him as if he were a teenaged boy who knew that school was going to be cancelled on the day of a huge exam. He parked his car by the sidewalk, and stepped out into the brisk air. The ground was hard as he crunched through the grass. He stopped and looked around. It looks like they’re not here yet…

Jim sat down on a wooden bench, and took a deep breath of the cold air. The air tickled his lungs. The trees around him were covered in frost. He loved the winter…he loved the cold. The cell phone in his pocket beeped, indicating that he had just received a new text message. Jim dug the phone out of his pocket, and read, “I’m a little late. Sorry…I should be there in five.”

“Take your time.” Jim wrote back. He pulled his iPod out of his jacket, and scrolled to find Sigur Ros Hoppipola. Above him, the clouds gathered, and snowflakes fell, melting when making contact with his skin. Smiling to himself, Jim gazed around the empty park.

And he felt a soft, warm hand on his cheek. When he turned, he faced her, grinning down at him.

“You’re here,” Jim smiled. She nodded.

“Yeah, sorry that I’m late…”

“It’s fine,” Jim told her. “I just got here like five minutes ago anyway.”

“Oh, so technically, you’re the one who’s late,” she said playfully.

“Um…I got here earlier than you, so…” Jim chuckled. “So how’s your day going?”

“Good,” she beamed, digging something out of your purse. “I have a surprise for you…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, hold on…I dropped my purse in the car, so everything’s all messy…” she dug through her purse, and when she found what she was looking for, she had a satisfied smile on her face. “Close your eyes…”

“I don’t know why you can’t just give it to me,” Jim teased.

“Close your eyes!”

“Fine,” Jim said, closing his eyes.

“Now hold out your hand…”

Jim held out his hand.

“I swear to god, if you put something gross in there…”

“I won’t,” she said, placing an object in Jim’s hand. “Open your eyes…”

Jim looked down and saw a pregnancy test. Two pink lines…

“Oh my god! Are you…?!”

“We are,” Pam smiled. “You’re going to be a daddy, Jim!”

“Holy shit…” Jim gasped in disbelief. “I’m going to be…”

“…a dad!” Pam finished. “And I’m gonna be a mommy!”

“Oh my god…Pam!” Jim cried, hugging his wife. “We’re going to have a baby!”

“I know!” Pam exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes as she saw Jim’s happiness.

“Oh my god!”

“I know!”

“Seriously, OH MY GOD!” Jim said, starting to laugh.

“I KNOW!” Pam laughed.

With a mixture of shock and happiness, Jim laughed harder than he had ever laughed before. Pam clutched onto his arms, laughing along side him. And Jim realized that this would only be the second happiest day of his life. The happiest day would come nine months later, when he would be being able to hold his child for the first time…and he couldn’t wait.

“Pam,” Jim gasped, trying to catch his breath. His stomach muscles ached from all the laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jim,” Pam smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

And in the words of Jim Halpert:

"...and then we made out."