Three weeks.

That’s how long it had been since he left her on her doorstep with a kiss to the forehead that left her lightheaded and giddy for every day since.

21 days.

21 days ago, Jim returned. He’d been back in Scranton for over 6 months, but he hadn’t really come home until the moment he showed up in the doorway, the little rap on the glass after he asked her out reminiscent of the way he had always drummed his fingers on her desk. Like a magician’s wave, the tapping gesture instantly restoring things to the way they had been before he ever left but with one big difference.  No more misinterpretations of what they meant to one another. No more pretending that office pals were all they were to each other. Their friendship now was something more than that.

504 hours.

In this last 504 hours Pam was happier than she’d ever been. Happier than when she first discovered crayons as a little girl. Gladder than when the dance class she begged to take was finally over; when through “sticking it out” at ballet knowing full well she would never become a prima ballerina but bound to finishing the 10 sessions because her parents taught her early on to follow through on her commitments. She had more joy than when they moved to the bigger house with the fireplace and the basement and the bedroom of her own that she didn’t have to share with her sister. Her spirits were higher than when she and Roy first began dating in high school. She floated aloft a fluffier cloud nine than she had even during the first weeks of her engagement.

30,240 minutes.

In these 30,204 minutes, Michael’s jokes were funnier. Dwight’s habits were less annoying. Andy’s songs were somewhat melodious. Angela’s cats were cuter. Even Kelly’s chatter seemed quieter, although that may have been more due to the fact she’d barely came out from her nook since Ryan dumped her and moved to New York when he got the corporate job.

1,814,400 seconds.

In those 1,814,400 seconds time seemed to stop but they hadn’t.

They hadn’t stopped smiling.

They hadn’t stopped kissing.

But most of all they hadn’t stopped talking.

Jim had suddenly rediscovered his love of jellybeans, returning to his old habits of dropping by Pam’s desk for some candy and conversation multiple times per day, once again drumming his fingers on her desk. Now as they rhythmically rapped the Formica surface her mind flashed to what those nimble fingers felt like as they strummed over her body like a stringed instrument.

Going out to eat was a marathon event, one where their laughter was only drowned out by their grumbling bellies when they still had not eaten after two hours. It wasn’t poor service but an incapacity to stop sharing long enough to decide what to order. Not making any new friends of the waitstaff in the local places — Beth, the sweet waitress from their first date was the only one tolerant of their over-exuberant laughter and languid stays at the table—they decided it was best to eat at home until they could learn to pin their conversations long enough to focus on menus and waiters and anything else but each other.

Even in bed, when lips were not busy exploring, when mouths were not occupied sampling the salty sweetness of lobes and napes, shoulders and elbows, when tongues were not entwined in delicious, tangled harmony, they worked at their most primary functions, forming the words that they continued to exchange, sharing everything they could as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms.

They talked about everything, their childhoods and school days, their families and friends, their loves, hates and insecurities, uncovering brand new things about each other in each breath.

Jim always knew Pam had been focused on her art in high school. What he didn’t know as that she also played volleyball competitively until her height, or lack of it kept her from being a standout player and she was still a little bitter that despite her ability, she was often sidelined in favor of taller, but in her opinion, less skilled players.

Pam knew Jim played basketball in high school. What she never knew was before that he was an all-star baseball player. She learned how he broke his father’s heart when he quit the sport, finally having grown tired of double headers where he spent more time waiting in the dugout for his turn at bat or in the outfield for a pop fly to come his way.  What surprised her even more was his insecurity about his batting. As he described the anxiety he had when he would step up to the plate, Pam knew exactly the discomfort he spoke of, the acid-fueled stomach pain and chest-constricting tightness was the same thing she felt when she was thrust into new situations with new people, but it was strange to hear that Jim, one of the most confident people she knew could be anything but sure of himself. 

Jim learned Pam’s love for berries was matched only by her hatred of green olives which Jim happened to love and Jim’s dislike of chickpeas was disappointing for Pam to learn about as she suggested they pick up some hummus and pita chips while they shopped for some weekend snacks at Gerrity’s. When she teased that his aversion to hummus was the dealbreaker and they might as well call it quits right there, he chased her around the olive bar with two pimento stuffed jumbos held in front of his eyes until they got reprimanded by a store employee wearing the same stern expression as the one who chastised them at the Rite Aid when they went shopping for Kevin.  

They spent hours rehashing the actions of TV characters from shows they both watched, the shows that in the past they had always discussed in depth the day after. A deep analysis of what Izzy and George, Chase and Cameron and Sawyer and Kate were up to over the past season kept them up into the wee hours of the morning before culminating in their own passionate reenactment of the desert island captives.

They dissected every absurd moment from their shared office, talking about things they missed even when they were both there. With their strained friendship under Karen’s microscope for much of the past few months, they may have been sharing the same space but not the same experiences. And so much had happened to both of them in the time Jim was so noticeably absent.

In their 1,814,400 seconds of nonstop discussions, they still hadn’t come close to filling each other in on all these moments they missed.

On this particular Thursday, they lay entwined on the love seat that served as the solitary seating in Pam’s living area. Jim now understood why it was called that, since they only both fit on if they snuggled extra close as they lay across it. And still the small couch didn’t quite accommodate Jim’s long legs, his ankles lay up on the arm, his feet hung over it while Pam nestled her whole entire body up against his back in the cozy space in front of him. A plush blanket covered Jim’s lower half and almost all of Pam.

On the television Meredith Grey was imparting her thoughts and wisdom on the passing of time as Jim twisted a barrel curl in his finger, his soft breath tickling her neck as they talked over the dialogue of the old Grey’s Anatomy episode.  Pam’s yearbook lay on the carpeted floor open to the page where a young Pam Beesly smiled up at him. The warm eyes and bright smile unmistakable, the youthful face a little fuller and fresher with an expression mirroring the one on a fresh-faced Izzy as a new intern in the flashback scene playing out on the show. The show they weren’t really watching. Once he found the book, there was even more to talk about.

“Aha the yearbook!” Jim proclaimed as he discovered it buried under the blanket in the wicker chest at the foot of the bed.

“I told you I wasn’t hiding it,” Pam shot back as she joined him in the room, “where was it?”

“Hidden inside this blanket.”

“Not hidden, just put away.” She pushed at him playfully. “And it’s not my fault we get distracted every time we come into this room to look for it.”

“Yeah, I know your ways. You lure me into bed just to preoccupy me from my mission of seeing my young Beesly in her formative years. Lucky for me your feet got cold tonight.”

She smiled coyly at him as he handed her the blanket he was sent in the room to retrieve, and he suddenly heard his own words, the unintended double entendre that slipped from his lips. Touching them tenderly to hers he added, “and a year ago, too.”

She began kissing back, softly but as her lips lingered on his she gently urged his open with her tongue and he almost forgot about the book.

“Oh no you don’t. There you go again. Those wiles are not going to work this time.”

He pulled from her and turned away back towards the other room, flipping through the pages as he walked until he got to the one he was looking for, “and there she is.”

He beamed as he stared at her photo, she was adorable just as he imagined she would be.

“You’re so cute. Why would you not want me to see this?”

“I keep telling you, I wasn’t hiding it. I really didn’t know where it was.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that, Beesly, any more than I believe Dwight’s claim his student government election was rigged.”

Pam giggled, recalling how last week Dwight insisted he would have been elected class president if everyone at his high school, including the faculty, weren’t corrupt and biased against farmers. It was the reason he gave for not attending his high school reunion a few years back and he brought it up again as Pam and Jim talked about their 10-year reunions, both that were happening this summer.

“Ok, you’ve seen the photo. Can we go watch the show now?”

He walked stealthily away from her, the book still in hand. He scanned the pages for Roy Anderson. While in the past and no longer the thing standing between him and Pam, he still was curious about the guy she almost married, the high school football star he almost lost her to.

His picture was on the opposite page two boxes over from hers.  He looked like Roy, only younger. The same smug smile stared up from the page, only his hair was poofier and his cheeks a little fuller, but Jim had to admit he was good looking even back then when most other guys were still in their goofy looking stage. Jim knew he still had not quite grown into his looks back then. Pam probably never would have noticed him in high school.  He was, as she so lovingly put it when she discovered his yearbook, so dorky.

They probably had homeroom together. Pam probably sat near him every day through years of middle and high school, her sparkling smile bearing into him as it did to Jim in his years of sitting near her in the office. But he never did see what she saw in him.

He imagined Roy was the same jerk back then, only then he was the football star, popular and attractive and maybe better at hiding his less admirable personality traits. Lucky for Jim, he stayed the same jerk he was in high school, not maturing much while Pam did and finally opened her eyes to the chump he probably always was.

“And there’s your ex-buffoon,” he said sardonically.

Finding himself naturally curious about what message Roy put to paper as they neared graduation, he began to scan the page but not before he glanced back at Pam for assurance he wasn’t overstepping. In all their talking they still hadn’t discussed him much and Jim wasn’t going to push her to now.

Her rolling her eyes and natural smile indicated she had nothing to hide so he turned back to the pages and suddenly could see why she seemed so at ease. Roy hadn’t written anything to her, the only message inscribed was from a from a Rich Beazer, the first male to come between Pam and Roy, at least on the pages of her yearbook.

Carrying the open book back to the living area he read aloud the handwritten note written on the page.

“Hey Snoopy.”

He looked to her with a raised eyebrow as he continued to read, settling back on the small couch, pulling her down to join him with his free arm.

“It’s been a pissa knowing you since our days at Prescott. Sorry I used to tease you a lot. You’re such a sweet person and I hope we keep in touch. Good luck. Keep up with the drawing. Love, Rich.”

Jim gave her a curious look and set the book down next to him.

“Snoopy? What’s that about?”

On Pam’s face was a knowing smile while a glow came over her cheeks as the memory of her classmate’s nickname for her came back to mind.

“That’s what he called me. Well at least in middle and high school. We’d known each other since elementary. He called me that because I was always doodling little Snoopys in my notebooks. He was always telling me how good they were and how I should enter those art contests from the back of comic books.”

Pam leaned over Jim to pick up the book and flipped to the back inside cover which was covered in doodles of Snoopy and his little bird friend, showing it to Jim.

“So, Roy wasn’t the only one who had a thing for you in school, huh?”

He gave her a little squeeze, drawing her closer to him, suddenly feeling irrationally jealous of this high school friend she knew years ago.

Pam looked at Jim puzzled, “Rich, no we were always just friends.”

“Maybe you were, but Rich had a thing for you. He noticed what you drew in your notebooks, gave you a pet name. He probably only didn’t ask you out because of Roy.”

Pam blushed even though she was sure that wasn’t true.

“I doubt that.  We just knew each other for so long. He was always in my classes in elementary and because of our names we always sat next to each other. But he teased me constantly then...and his nicknames for me then weren’t always so nice. I think before Snoopy, he called me Beastly. Before that Fart-girl.”

“Now, I know he liked you. Sounds like he was hung up on you for years.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jim did. He knew what it was like to pine for a girl who was with someone else. To have to stand by in the friend role, hoping that one day the girl he teased, played with, encouraged and loved forever would suddenly wake up and see him.”

“Pam, I was a little boy once. I teased everyone, but mostly the girls I liked. I was merciless with Jenna Taylor all through second grade, Playing silly pranks on her and calling her names. It’s what we do until we find the courage to admit we might like a girl. I promise you Pam, he looooved you.”

“By that logic, that would mean you looooove Dwight.”

Jim put on his most serious face and pushed Pam playfully to the other side of the love seat, a fraction of an inch away.

“I guess I can admit it now. I do love Dwight. I just am dating you to be my beard. But since we can’t even tell anyone about us, tomorrow I will profess my love for him, in the office, for all to know. So I guess we don’t need to keep this up. It’s been fun but now it’s over.”

“Fine by me. I’m in love with Kevin anyway.”

Jim pulled her back towards her taking the book back to admire the doodles on the back page. They were really good but really just replicas of Charles M. Shultz’ work. What he really admired were her originals, the sketches she was always drawing and sharing with him of things she saw and visions she dreamed of. He wondered if Rich Beazer ever got to see any of those.

"You know Snoopy, that’s also what we call my niece.”

He flipped back to the page with young Pam and taking one last look at the Jim of her high school years set it down in front of him before getting settled on the couch again, the love seat not ideal for his size but being close to Pam made it cozy and comfortable.

“How come?”

“Not because she draws him, but because she’s always getting into everyone’s business.”

He absentmindedly began to run his fingers through Pam’s hair, wrapping his fingers up in her curls.

“She’s a precocious little girl, always wanting to know everything that is going on. My dad called her out at some family event when she was like 4 because she was trying to listen in on the adult conversation. Watch out for Snoopy over there… my mom cackled…she thinks anything my dad says is hysterical…but my sister-in law laughed too and my brother, who hated that Marcie called her Little Miss Nosy because he was already concerned she’d inherited the Halpert schnoz, was thrilled to revise her nickname to one that did not call attention to her nose.”

Pam readjusted the blanket over her feet as Jim went on.

“So we’ve been calling her that ever since. Of course, now Charlie, my nephew, has been redubbed Charlie Brown for the sole reason that it goes along with hers. But Vanessa loves being called Snoopy.”

“That’s really cute.”

“Vanessa thinks so. Of course, she thinks it’s because she has a thing for the cartoon beagle. I’m not sure if she realizes that she has a thing for Snoopy because of her nickname. That year every present she got for Christmas had Snoopy on it.”

“Good grief,” Pam chanted emulating Charlie Brown as she pointed at the TV.

Jim kissed Pam’s temple, proud of her quick wit.

“That is… a good one… you’re cute too.”

“I try.”

On the TV a grief-stricken Izzy, lay across the bathroom floor in a magenta ball gown, still immobile over losing Denny.

Pam, remembering the episode from earlier in the year, suddenly found herself thinking back to someone else that had become overwhelmed by grief when Ed Truck passed. Jim was still in Stamford at the time and had missed a lot that day.

“Speaking of grief, you heard that Ed Truck died right?”

“Yeah, there was an email that went around about that, why?”

“That was a crazy day you missed. Michael was in rare form. He started out with his regular antics but after he heard about Ed it was all he could talk about and all he wanted us to talk about. He even made us all gather in the conference room to discuss our feelings.”

Pam remembered how much she had wished Jim was there to see her that day. She was on a roll with wisecracks she knew he’d have been proud of, first before they’d heard what happened with Ed when Michael was performing his trick of ducking behind boxes as if retreating down to the warehouse. Just as Jim would have, she forced Michael to perform his staircase trick an additional two times. But it was later during the conference room counseling session that she really pulled out her best work, not however, before Dwight had unintentionally gave them all a laugh.

“Oh, and did you know Dwight was a twin?”

“What are you talking about Beesly? I think I’d know by now if that were true.”

Jim shuttered imagining a clone of the beet-loving, authority-craving, social-skill lacking, egotist he shared a desk pod with.

"No, it is true. He said it himself,” and hearing herself speak she began to wonder if it really was. She knew half the stuff that came out of his mouth was false if not grossly exaggerated. But this was probably a rare case when he spoke the truth.

“In utero, Dwight was twins, but early on he resorbed the other fetus.”

“Ok, sorta makes sense. I expect that kind of behavior from Dwight, even as an embryo. But what does that have to do with Ed Truck’s death.”

“Ok I’m getting to that. So, Michael’s making us talk about people we knew who died…to help us work through our feelings.”

“And that’s who Dwight knew. Of course. He’s such a moron. Tell me, what did he have to say?”

Through a half laugh, she told him, starting to giggle in her adorable way where her words got all jumbled up in her laughter, “Well for one...he’s got the strength of a grown man and a little baby.”

“Dwight, what an idiot.”

Pam began to snicker some more as she told Jim how she volunteered to share, pretending to have an aunt that died in the exact same way as the character in Million Dollar Baby. She went on to tell him how Ryan did the same thing with the Lion King, keeping it just vague enough that Michael foolishly did not catch on since he probably never saw it.

“But then Kevin went and ruined it with the plot of Weekend at Bernie’s, as if Michael wouldn’t have watched that movie a thousand times.”

Jim was laughing too now, picturing Kevin describing the movie in his over-accentuated drawl.

“It got crazier from there Jim, and sadder too.  By the day’s end we were holding a funeral for a bird in the parking lot.”

“WAIT, THAT WAS REAL?” 

Jim shot up in his seat, nearly propelling Pam from his lap.

“Creed said something about that when Oscar came back and I thought that was Creed being Creed.”

“Nope, that was all true and Jim it was the saddest thing.”

“What the bird funeral?”

“Yes, well not exactly, I mean Michael. After the counseling session I started to see it. The way he was reacting to Ed’s death. Then Toby told him about this bird that died and he really lost it. First, he tried to revive it when it was clearly dead and then he insisted we throw it a funeral. I made a casket from a tissue box and pencils.”

 Pam continued as her demeanor changed from humorous mockery to caring and concern.

“Jim, he was spiraling. He was sad about Ed, and how nobody really seemed all that affected by it. There was nobody reacting like Izzy.”

Jim looked again to the TV, once again Izzy was still laying there in shock.

“But I think he was more sad about the bird... like he saw himself as the bird...as if he was all alone and would have no one to grieve for him if he were to die.”

“He told you all this?”

“No, but it was obvious, at least to me. I could see how much he was hurting. So, I gave a eulogy for Michael, as the bird...to try and make him see he wasn’t alone. I said I was sure there were a lot of other birds that cared for him and he would not be forgotten. I think it helped him feel better.”

Jim was sure that Pam was the only one in the office who realized what was going on with him and was the only one who cared enough to do something about it. Jim wasn’t even sure if he would have seen it or if he did if he would care. But that was one of the things he loved about her. No matter how much she joked and pranked, and she could play ball with the best of them, her motherly instincts, good nature and kindness never wavered when someone she cared about was in need. Even if it was Michael Scott.

“I assure you Pam, you were probably the only one who could see what he was going through. You have such a caring heart and a mother’s instinct.”

“You really think so?”

Pam looked up at Jim as if he had just given her the most glowing compliment and for her, he had. Any insecurities Pam had about her job, her intelligence, her talent or almost anything else paled in comparison to her fear of not being good with children and so Jim’s reassurance meant more to her than anything else at that moment.

“I do Pam, I do.”

Six idyllic months had passed. Mostly idyllic, there were a few hiccups, as to be expected with any new relationship.

They’d come out at the office,
with only a few snide comments and sexual innuendos from their co-workers.

Their first big fight was already behind them,
and in the end it may have brought them closer.

They’d been sure not to whitewash over the pain of their history,
which meant difficult but honest conversations that couldn’t erase the past but when brought to light, helped the pain to fade, blending it in with the fabric of their love.

Over the past months they both been keyed. Jim had given Pam his after the first night she stayed at his place, along with 3 drawers in his dresser, on the inside of each he’d written silly little notes to her with a sharpie, like, you can keep your pajamas here even though I doubt you’ll have much need for them.

They settled into routines, but still managed to keep surprising each other with little detours and new experiences that kept things spicy and fresh.

Pam had on many separate occasions spent time with Jim’s parents, met his brother, Tom and his sister, Larissa and a few days earlier on Christmas eve, Jim had finally officially met her parents, even though he’d bonded with her mom on a secret phone call where he arranged to have her Mee-Maw’s angel sent so their first tree together would be topped with her favorite childhood memento of the season.

The office had an uneventful holiday party that year, a good thing at the Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch. No Yankee swapping, no dueling parties, no fights about whether or not Die Hard could be considered a Christmas movie and therefore be the theme for the party. After that party, a few years back, the PPC was established so that Christmas crackers would never again be old C4 explosives that may or may not have been inactive as Dwight insisted they were when he set up the office as the scene of the Nakatomi Corporation.

A light snow had fallen on December 24th bringing with it the magic of a white Christmas and they had not one, but two Christmas trees, the small one they bought and decorated together during the Thanksgiving break and the bigger one he surprised her with at his place.

So, when the call came from Jim’s brother a few days before New Year’s, it wasn’t a surprise that some glitch would come up to disrupt their halycon days. The holidays had been pretty much perfect up until now; something had to arise to put a wrench in their plans to ring in the New Year.

“What about Mom and Dad?”

Pam looked at Jim, concern and curiosity sketched on her face as she tried to imagine what Tom was saying on the other end of the call. Jim’s expression and demeanor weren’t giving much away, but it didn’t sound too bad from what she could tell.

“Oh yeah, they’re off already. Larissa can’t do it either? Since when does she ski? Ok, well if there’s no one else, I’ll talk to Pam. Yeah man, I’ll let you know after I talk to her.”

“So that was Tom...” Jim closed his phone and set it down on the table.

“It seems their sitter just broke her leg skiing and is in the hospital and Marcie’s sorority sister is getting married on New Year’s Eve in the city. My folks already left for their cruise and Larissa’s on some ski trip with her new boyfriend, which is comical because she’s refused to learn to ski for years for fear she’d break something.”

Pam could guess the rest; they needed a sitter for New Year’s Eve and Jim was next on their list.

“I know it’s not what we planned but he’s really in a bind. They already booked their hotel room and she’s a bridesmaid. He was hoping we could...”

Pam cut him off before he could finish.

“Of course, Jim, it’s fine.  They’re your family. Of course we’ll do it. I’ll call Christopher’s and cancel the reservation. You call Tom back and tell him it’s ok.”

The words came out monotone and flat, not that she should be expected to be excited by the prospect of canceling their plans to spend the whole night with children, but she hoped she didn’t sound as horrified as she felt.

But Jim knew her well enough to know she wasn’t thrilled, picking up on the sudden change in her body language and the way she turned so fast from him as she spoke.

Pam continued to try and hide her unease as she grabbed the landline phone from the base and cycled through the in-phone directory to find the number of their favorite restaurant so she could let them know to release their coveted 9PM seating for another couple to enjoy.

Jim had a pretty good sense that it wasn’t resentment or disappointment about not going to dinner that had her suddenly sullen and distant, at least he thought it wasn’t. He gently grabbed the phone from her hand before she could hit dial, using his other hand to turn her to face him again.

“Hey, what’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, I’ll tell him we can't. It’s our first New Year’s. I’ll tell him we had something special planned for just the two of us. I get it you don’t want to spend it babysitting my brother’s rugrats.”

“No, it’s not that,” Pam stuttered hesitantly.

“As long as we’re together, it doesn’t really matter where we spend the New Year. It's just...”

Pam looked up at her boyfriend’s questioning eyes, trying to form the words that would make him understand her apprehension about meeting his niece and nephews.  She always knew she would be meeting them soon, was even excited to, just she had imagined it would be at a family event or a birthday party when she’d be eased into the meeting buffered by Jim’s brother and sister-in-law and possibly other relatives. She always thought she’d have a few opportunities to slowly get to know them and they would warm to her a little bit at a time with each new encounter. 

Here, she’d be meeting them moments before their parents would leave them in her and Jim’s care, overnight on a holiday and while outnumbered 3 to 2.

She’d heard from Betsy how rambunctious Charlie was, and from Tom how demanding Vanessa could be and well she didn’t need to be told how needy, Evan, the youngest Halpert, born just only some months ago, was. Babies, she knew, required a lot of attention and she was quite honestly terrified to babysit a 4-month old.

“You know I’m not the greatest with kids” she continued. “You remember take your daughter to work day at the office. I couldn’t get any of the kids to like me. I didn’t know how to talk to them, much less babysit them.”

“Meredith’s son liked you.”

“Meredith’s son liked shredding things. And I’m pretty sure I can’t entertain your brother’s kids with office supplies, Jim.”

She paused and looked down at her hands which she was characteristically twisting as she spoke.

“Jim, of course we are going to say yes. I would never have you tell your brother no. I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

“Hey, you won’t be there alone. I’ll be there too. I mean I’ve never taken care of a baby, or watched them overnight, but how tough can it be?”

Pam recalled her one and only babysitting experience, watching the Miller kids. Her mom and the Miller mom were friends and she’d met the kids a few times while shopping with her mom and at some church event. They seemed like your average 4 and 7-year olds, quietly standing by their mom as she talked with Helene. Pam even got a smile out of the younger one as she made silly faces at him while they waited.

The night she went to babysit, the quiet little boys became demon children. Steven, the older one, violently overturned the Sorry game they were playing the first instance his pawn was knocked back to start. That set him off for a night of throwing his toys at her anytime he didn’t get his way.

“No, you can’t have cookies for dinner,” thwap, a matchbox car hit her on the ass as she turned to heat up the meal she was instructed to feed them.

“Your mother said only one hour of TV,” bam, a toy fire engine rammed into her shin.

The little one, Paul, about an hour after dinner stripped down to nothing and ran around the house completely naked while Pam pleaded with him to put his clothes back on in between icing the bruise forming from the huge tonka truck that just hit her on her side.

After that, she refused to take another sitting job ever, not even the sweet girls that lived down the block for fear they too would turn on her as soon as she stepped through the door.  

As she told Jim her adventures watching the Miller boys, able to laugh about it now many years later, she assured him she was ready to give babysitting another try.

…

“Pammmmm in Boots”

Michael was at her desk, playing it like drums. He’d obviously seen her come in with the new Bearpaws that she still had on.

“You’re dressed very casual today.”

Pam turned her attention from her screen momentarily to look up at Michael, who was similarly dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Directing her eyes back to the computer she responded to his observation.

“Michael, you told us to dress down.”

“I did Pam. I did. And how come?”

“Because we’re going to be doing inventory today.”

“And why should we not wear nice clothes while we do inventory?”

“Because we’ll be downstairs getting dirty.”

She looked up at him again, exasperation on her face as she awaited it.

Michael shot a quick glance to the camera before his face morphed into the slaphappy smile that preceded his signature catchphrase.

“Thatttt’s what she said.”

With a snort, Michael raised his eyes at Pam who giving him no reaction returned to laser point focus on her computer screen.

Dwight, however, burst into hysterical laughter. Andy too. Even Jim, despite thinking it was a very forced set up, flashed a raised eyebrow to the camera but couldn’t help but chuckle once the joke had landed.  Looking past Michael he sought out Pam’s eyes to share silent laughter with her.

But Pam still didn’t look up. He knew not even a high scoring free cell would keep her so engaged she wouldn’t respond to the hallmark smirk that Jim was currently throwing her way and Jim wondered what it could be that was preoccupying her.

With no reaction from Pam, Michael moved on to the always responsive audience of Dwight and Andy, while Jim got up from his seat and walked around behind the receptionist’s desk, hunching down behind her to view her screen.

“Are we still on this?”

On the computer, Pam was reading an article with tips on babysitting. To the side of the keyboard sat a pad, littered with notes she had taken from what had to be several different articles, plus lists each headed with names including Mom, Betsy, Phyllis and even Meredith, although that list had only one thing written on it, when nothing else shuts them up bribe them with candy.

“I just want to be as prepared as I can.”

Jim took control of the mouse, exiting the website and then crossed out what was listed under Meredith’s name.

“Ok, now I know you and Meredith both believe that candy can work magic with kids, but I can assure you the last thing we want is to ply my nephew with sugar. But you’ve got to stop worrying. Bribery is not going to be necessary. They are going to love you. I promise. They’re Halperts after all.”

Just as Pam was about to protest and reload the article to her screen, Michael called out he expected everyone down in the warehouse in 5 minutes.

Dwight who had already jumped from his seat, repeated Michael’s call to action and started handing out clipboards as everyone began to get up from their chairs.

“You heard him. I’ve got the assignments. I’ve designated a counting quota for everyone based on their arrival time in the warehouse. The last person downstairs has this one.”

He held up a board with what looked like a full ream of ultra-white card stock threatening to bust the clip barely holding the pages in place.

“Let’s get this over with,” Stanley grumbled as he got up and shuffled towards the door.

"There’s going to be pizza right? You promised pizza.”

“Relax Kevin,” Angela snipped at him.

Oscar chimed in, “Kevin, Michael told us not to worry about lunch so I'm sure he's got the pizza covered.”

The look on Michael’s face however, said otherwise.

 “Michael, you did order the pizza, right. It’s already noon and you know how long it takes Alfredo’s to deliver.”

He turned to Pam, “Um, Pam you took care of that right?”

“Michael, you never told me to order any pizza.”

“Michael.” Oscar, Phyllis and Kevin groaned in unison.

“Oh man. It’s lunch time now and their delivery always takes an extra 45 minutes…”

Kevin looked down at his hands running his pointer along the chubby fingers on his opposite hand.

“That plus the 30 minutes to make the pizza and the 5 minutes to place the order.”

He looked up with horror on his face.

“Michael, I can’t not eat for another 2 hours. I’ve got to eat before then. I can’t count things when I'm hungry.”

Under her breath Angela murmured, “you can’t count when you’re full either.”

“Relax, Kevin. Eat your M&Ms.”

“Good idea.” With that Kevin proceeded to grab his jar and started towards the exit.

“What about the rest of us Michael?” Toby moaned.

“Yeah, Bob’s not going to like it when I’m not hungry for dinner at our regular time because I ate lunch so late.”

“Toby, you can eat your shirt. You aren’t invited to our inventory pizza party anyway.”

“Tell you what,” Pam interjected. “Jim and I will run out and get the pizzas. At least then we don’t have to wait on delivery. You all get started and by the time you’ve worked up an appetite, we’ll be back with the pies and maybe an extra treat for your patience.”

She winked at Kevin.

“On Michael, right?” she added holding her hand out for his credit card.

…

“That was some sweet maneuvering, Beesly.”

Pam clicked her seatbelt as Jim pulled the car into reverse.

“You liked that Halpert, didn’t you? Got us out of inventory for a bit and we get to take a little road trip to boot. And pick the special snack. Now, should we get ice cream or donuts?”

“What do you think?”

Puffs of cold escaped her mouth as she spoke, the temperature seemingly colder than when they left his apartment that morning.

“Ok, then let’s hit the donut shop first so the pizza stays hotter for longer.”

Pam rubbed her hands together, holding them in front of the vents, the heated air finally coming out to warm her gloved fingers up.

“That’s my girl, always thinking.”

Jim reached his free hand across the console to rest it on Pam’s lap. In turn she placed her now warmed hands over his, feeling the cold of his gloveless hands on her thigh. They drove away from the office, Pam scanning through the presets on the radio. The jazzy and slightly psychedelic sound of the Zombies dispersed from out of the speakers.

The warmth of your smile’s like the warmth of the sun…

“Keep that,” Jim said. “I haven’t heard this song since my brother used to play it.”

“I’ve never heard this before. Who’s singing it?”

“I think it’s the Zombies. Kinda perfect for our new year, don’t you think?”

Pam listened to the strains of the perfect little hymn that seemed to celebrate them, with all they’d been through and all that was ahead of them.

And this will be our year, took a long time to come.

Jim feeling her gaze on him as the song hit the bridge, turned to Pam, on her face a bright smile that had been missing most of the morning as she poured over articles and worried about their upcoming New Year’s Eve.

“How is it, you always have the perfect song?”

“You found this one, not me.”

“Yeah, but you knew the words so well. How did you know how relevant it was to us?”

“I guess I’m just always listening.”

The song ended and Pam lowered the radio.

 “That’s why you are so good with people, because you are a great listener.”

“You’re not too shabby yourself, Beesly. Anyone who can listen to Michael as much as you have to in your position deserves a prize. And the fact you keep him from getting into too much trouble, that takes real talent. That’s why I don’t understand why you’re still so concerned over this babysitting thing. You know you showed some excellent mothering skills back there.”

“What are you talking about? I suggested we go for the pizza.”

“Yeah, well I felt a tantrum or two coming on, and you reined that back just like my mom would have done. Pamela Morgan Beesly you show great promise as not only a babysitter but a great mother.”

The car finally warm, she removed her hat and set it on her lap, the itchiness only tolerable when it was keeping her body heat in.

“You’re equating ditching tedious office chores with motherhood?”

“No, I’m saying you used quick thinking to diffuse a childish outburst from the kids we work with. But really, think of all the motherly things you do here. You make sure everyone gets their homework, I mean reports done, signed and submitted on time. You tell us to wear our hats and gloves when it’s cold out.”

“I see how well you listen to that, Halpert.” Pam reached out and lightly smacked his hatless head.

“You helped calm Dwight when he had his concussion. I might never have gotten him out the door without you. Then when he went through his breakup with Angela, remember how concerned you were for him. You knew how he was going through something right away. And remember how you told me about Michael and the dead bird. You were the only one to see what he was going through and you knew just what to do to make him feel better. Only someone destined to be a great mother could achieve that.”

Arriving at the Dunkin Donuts Jim pulled into a spot and turned to her.

“And you even keep me from going too far with pranking Dwight”

“Yeah, well putting super glue on his mouse would have been a little too much. The label says bonds instantly to skin. Besides, gluing it to the mousepad proved to be funnier anyway.”

Jim had to agree on that. Watching Dwight’s frustration as he tried to move his mouse was the perfect pick-me-up when he got back from his embarrassing trip to Utica.

“But none of that other stuff means anything because they’re adults. I’m worried about being good with kids.”

“Come on Pam, you can’t tell me Dwight’s not a kid. And Michael, he’s the definition of a child. Hell, he makes Evan seem mature and he still wears diapers and drinks from a bottle.”

Pam placed her hat back on, preparing to run into the Dunkin Donuts and get their children a treat for their good behavior.

“I guess you do have a point,” she said as she jumped out of the car into the cold air.

Pam returned to the car with two boxes of donuts, placing them in the back seat before joining Jim again in the front. He was just closing up his phone as Pam slipped into the front seat.

“Tell me, which one of our children was calling about the pizza?”

“What, no that was my brother.  He just wanted to finalize our plans. They want to know what snacks and dinner foods they can get for us.”

“Umm I don’t know, maybe some Stilton cheese, Beluga caviar, oh and lobster and filet mignon for sure.”

“Funny Beesly, seriously, what should I tell him?”

“I don’t know. You know what I like, pigs in blankets, maybe a cheese plate, some potstickers, ooh and some hummus and pita chips.”

Jim groaned.

“Really you’re going to eat that stuff and then kiss me at midnight.”

“Hey if I’m spending our first New Year’s babysitting your niece and nephews, the least you can do is get me some hummus.”

“Oh, by the way niece and nephew…as in they decided to take the baby with them.”

“So, you’re saying they don’t trust me with an infant. Not that they should.”

“Oh my God, Beesly. Sensitive much. No, he told me they were always considering that. She didn’t want us to have to deal with him waking up all through the night. He said since they’ll be up late into the morning that it would be easy enough to have him at the wedding with all her sorority sisters there to take turns watching him. And the noisier it is the more he sleeps, so he’ll probably sleep better at the wedding than at home. Plus, Marcie’s still breastfeeding and he said something about pumping and that’s when I told him I didn’t need to hear all the details just that you’d be happy to hear we weren’t going to have to take care of the baby.”

“Jimmm...” Pam whined at him. “Why would you tell him that?”

“What, I thought you were most concerned about taking care of the baby.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to tell them that. Now they’re going to think I don’t like babies.”

Jim bent his head forward, the palms of his hands catching his head as gravity pulled it towards his lap.

“You are nuts, you know that. Absolutely nuts.”

“Oh no, I forgot the champagne.”

They were nearly to Tom and Marcie’s when Pam thought about the bottle of Cupcake Prosecco.

In the interest of saving time, the plan was to leave right from the office for New Jersey. Despite being let out early for the holiday, Jim was worried about the traffic, knowing how bad it could get once crossed over into the bizarre state where his brother resided. 

Their mornings were often rushed since Jim had a tendency to squabble with the alarm clock, refusing to surrender to the wake-up chime the first few times the alarm would go off, often wrapping his arms around Pam to hold her hostage from succumbing to morning either. Pam smartly suggested they pack their bag the night before not wanting to forget anything while they hurried through their morning routine.

The gifts Pam had insisted they pick up for the kids, a Cars movie Lego set for Charlie and a make-your-own friendship bracelet kit for Vanessa were wrapped and tucked away in the bag. The bottle they picked up to toast with at midnight was in the kitchen fridge. Pam was hoping they’d remember it as they grabbed something to eat in the morning but just in case left a post-it on the front door to remind her to take it with them when they were leaving the apartment. Her note effective as they left, their arms loaded up with the duffle, Jim’s satchel and her handbag plus all their winter gear, the bottle had nearly slipped her mind until the post-it reminded her to return to the kitchen to grab it.

Once at the office, Pam hid it in the back of the fridge in the kitchen, hoping it would be safe for the half day, that Meredith wouldn’t sense its presence when she grabbed milk for her morning coffee and Pam wrote herself another note to remind her to grab it when they left.

When she finally noticed the note, stuck to the back of Jim’s sleeve, it must have attached there as he loaded the car, it was too late as the bottle was now miles away still hidden in the back of the Dunder Mifflin fridge.

“What happen to your note?”

Pam pulled the note from Jim’s sleeve and groaned.

“So much for that.”

“I’m going to go for gas when we get to my brother’s exit. Maybe the shop at the station will have champagne there.”

“I doubt it. And I don’t think I would trust gas station champagne anyway. We’ll have to ring in the new year with apple juice.”

They drove on, making good time despite the full parkway, Pam’s apprehension causing her to alternatively bombard Jim with more questions about his pint-sized relatives and muse in silence, trying to remember how her mother was with her and Penny in their younger days. The radio played softly in the background, the Christmas music having abruptly ended on December 25, the rotation was back to One Republic, Taylor Swift and P!nk with the occasional modern rendition of Auld Lang Syne thrown in to celebrate the changing year. As Pam stared out the window during one of her contemplative sessions, Jim turned the volume up a notch just as the speakers pulsed with the staccato notes of the Zombies song that had come on the radio just the other day.

It took a few moments for each of them to recognize the melody that was playing. Ten bars of piano preceded the opening lyrics that would clue them in to the song was but as the singer’s voice filled the car, they both suddenly realized what it was at the same time. 

“It’s the Zombies song.”

This time Pam wasn’t fast enough and Jim was the one to follow up on their joint utterance. 

“Jinx, buy me a coke.”

Adept at conversing with no words from the many years they shared conversations from across the office, Pam pleaded with Jim through expressive eyes and downturned lips that he sensed even with his eyes straight ahead on the road. But he held firm.

“Nope, Beesly, you know the rules. No talking.”

He went on to report on the latest sports stats and tell her about the one hunting trip his Great Uncle took him and his brothers on while she stuck her fingers in her ears. As Alicia Keyes came over the radio, he sang along to No One in his highest falsetto voice while Pam held up an imaginary noose titling her head to demonstrate how much she was enjoying his serenade.

After 10 minutes that seemed much longer to Pam, they finally passed the sign for exit 17 and Jim pulled off to the right lane then finally veered off on the exit ramp that would lead them to the rest stop. They pulled up to the gas pump and as Jim shut the car, Pam grabbed her coat from the back putting in on as she wasted no time stepping out into the chilly air.  

“Hey, you can check for the champagne while you’re in there.”

Flashing him her rolled eyes she dashed off into the cold air as Jim greeted the attendant, now at his window.

Pam spent a bit of time looking through the small shop in search of some kind of festive bubbling drink after all. When the closest she could find was Miller High Life, the familiar if you’ve got the time jingle playing in her head as she recalled the old commercial that touted it as The Champagne of Beers, she opted to just buy the coke.

Stepping out of the shop with her sole purchase she felt rude for not having wished the man who rung her up a Happy New Year, but also felt like somehow Jim would have known if she had spoken. As she walked outside again she now took notice of the scenic backdrop of the gas station, the lush trees coated with ice and snow and thought what a nice painting it would make.  Lost in the vision of her imagined canvas she mis-stepped off the curb and the coke went tumbling from her hand.

Remarkably, her coordination somehow resolved in time to catch it with the other hand before it hit the ground.  

She looked up to see if Jim had noticed, she was proud of her catch and knew he would be impressed, but he was faced the other way. Now he’d never believe her.  

Slipping back into the car she handed Jim his coke excited to tell him about her save.

“Now you may talk,” he said, as he began to pop open the can.  

“Wait, Jim…” she tried to warn him but it was too late, cola was bursting out from the can all over his white shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Pam apologized through her barely stifled giggling. “I tried to tell you I kinda dropped the can but I was still jinxed.”

Wiping down the sticky soda that was now all over him he turned to her.  

“Well, you got your exploding beverage. Although I think I would have preferred champagne at midnight to this.”

 ---

Twenty minutes later they were standing at Jim’s brother’s doorstep, Jim in his cola-stained work shirt, Pam holding his jacket along with the bags.

“Hey Jimmy,” Tom said as he opened the door taking a step back from his brother and reaching over to kiss Pam hello. “What happened to him?”

“A little Jinx mishap,” Pam responded as Tom waved then inside.

They stepped into the house and Tom grabbed the bags from Pam’s arms setting them down by the staircase. From up on the second floor they heard someone call out.

“Is that them?”

The attractive blonde woman Pam recognized from the many photos in Jim’s parent’s house, carefully stepped down the stairs, in her arms a cherubic, rosy-cheeked infant with a faint tuft of blonde hair and a string of drool spilling from his mouth. Passing the baby off to her husband before it landed on the golden, flutter-sleeved gown that clung to her little frame, she wrapped her arms around Pam.

“Pam, it’s so nice to meet you at last. I’m sorry we missed you at Christmas, but these boys…” she flashed a look to her husband, “never seem to get the dates straight. I’m Marcie.”

Turning to Jim she said, “you weren’t kidding, she does have the most beautiful smile.”

Pam blushed as she said hello to Marcie and the four of them walked further into the living room.

Finally noticing Jim’s shirt, Marcie added, “What happened to you?”

After quickly explaining what happened at the gas station, Marcie picked up a burp cloth from the couch.

“I leave these around the house for the baby,” she said as she wiped away the drool from her son’s mouth. “But it seems tonight Pam might need to use them on you, Jim.”

Pam laughed. Marcie clearly was comfortable with Jim, teasing him the same way she often did.

“And this is Evan, the newest Halpert.”

“He’s adorable. Can I hold him?”

“I don't know, Pam,” Tom joked. “Are you sure you're not too scared?

If there was such a thing as jinx for wanting to murder your partner at the same time it would have occurred at that very moment as both Pam and Marcie turned to glower at each of their significant others.

Marcie, taking the baby from her husband and passing him to Pam responded, “never mind him.  I don’t blame you for being apprehensive.  This little guy can be a handful and I would have been nervous too if I suddenly had to watch him and two more kids I never met before.  Even my mother-in-law gets nervous when I leave them with her for an hour.  Don’t let anything this fool says make you feel self-conscious. This fool either,” she said as she reached out to hug Jim, pulling back just as she noticed his shirt again. 

“Marcie's right.  I’m just playing,” Tom added. “The kids are really excited. Charlie hasn’t stopped asking when you’ll be here since we told them you’d be coming.”

“Speaking of the rugrats,” Jim asked, where are they?”

Marcie replied as Pam made faces at the baby on her lap, getting little giggles out of him as she tickled his belly and he squealed in delight, kicking up his chubby little legs with each chuckle.

“We’ve got them set up in our room with a movie. We figured it would be easier to talk without them around. Jim you know what’s going to happen once they know you’re here.”

They went on chatting for a bit, Marcie and Tom filling Pam and Jim in with what they needed to know for the night and the next day. As they spoke Jim rummaged through the duffle and grabbed a clean Henley shirt, lifting the presents out of the way as he uncovered his jeans, before he excused himself to change in the guest bathroom.

“We really do appreciate your doing this for us.” Marcie said to Pam after Jim left the room. “and you brought presents too. You really didn’t need to do that.  We should be giving you presents.”

“Yeah, we know it was a lot to ask this being your first New Years and all,” Tom added.

“Really, we’re happy to. We were just going to dinner. Now we’ll get to have a little party and I’m really excited to meet the kids. Jim talks about them a lot. It sounds like we’re going to have a lot of fun ringing in the new year with them.”

Jim returned from the bathroom, looking a lot more casual and a lot cleaner.

“I know it’s New Year’s Eve but do yourself a favor and get the kids to sleep at a decent hour.  You don’t want to deal with an overtired Charlie tonight or a cranky Vanessa in the morning.  Besides, I’m assuming you’ll want to ring in the new year without my kids climbing all over you.” Marcie winked at them as she went on.

“Oh, and we left you a bottle of Veuve Clicquot chilling in the fridge.”

Just then the baby started fussing and Marcie took him back from Pam.

“Don’t worry, he’s just hungry. I’m going to give him one last feeding before we go. And I’ll send down the kids. Tom can you bring the bags to the car?”

After Marcie disappeared and Tom gathered the bags and disappeared out the garage door, two mini-Halperts came bounding down the staircase sounding more like elephants tossing bowling balls ahead of them than children with calls of Uncle Jim’s here filling the room amid the pounding of their feet on the stairs.

When they reached the landing, the little boy jumping from the second step to land at the base with a thud, they both ran to where Jim and Pam stood each trying to nudge the other away as they clasped their arms around him their overlapping chatter making it hard to make out what either of them were saying.

“new bat for Christmas, Lightning McQueen race track… “

“school concert, best trumpeter ever…”

“throwed up all over...”

“the best movie, did you see it…”

Tom came back in from loading the bags in the car but the kids went right on with their babble.

“and we went to build bear and I builded a bear that looks like a big baseball…

“we all went to the city last week and saw the big Christmas tree, then mom and me went to see the Nutcracker the Lincoln Corner but dad didn’t want to go so he took Evan to see the dinosaurs at the museum…”

“and I putted a heart inside....”

“Lightning McQueen, that’s pretty cool? That’s great Snoopy. Build a bear, sounds exciting Charlie.“

Even as Jim tried to respond to them, the kids went right on talking, each one getting louder with each word trying to drown out the other one.

“The other day Evan had a giant huge poop that comed out of the diaper, It was so yucky…”

“I played that prank on my friend Olivia where I stare at her forehead and she got so mad, but it was sooo funny.”

“Hey guys,” Tom interrupted. “Can you take a breath and say hello to Pam.”

They both stopped and looked to where Pam stood next to Jim, looking a slight bit shell-shocked at the frenzied hyperactivity of Jim’s niece and nephew.

“Hi Pam,” they both said in a rush and quickly went back to their babbling competition, reminding Pam a little bit of Kelly in the speed at which they spit out the words as fast as they could and a little bit of Dwight in the volume.

“Uncle Jim, are we going to make a fort tonight?”

“Mom and dad are letting me get my ears pierced this year.”

“My freindses’ Sammy’s turtle died but he gottted a new lizard from Santa.”

“Uncle Jim, did you bring your guitar?”

Pam, willing herself to snap out of the trance brought on by the little people in front of her, brought up the courage to add her own Uncle Jim remark to the jumbled conversation.

“Uncle Jim, do you think we should play a little Ping Pong?”

The kids both stopped talking at looked at Pam, making her suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious until the little one spoke.

“But Aunt Pam, we don’t have a Pin Pong.”

Vanessa shot her brother a pejorative look, “Charlie, she’s not our Aunt.”

Even though Pam knew what she said was true and as a child she probably meant no harm in saying it, it still stung a bit, that is until Jim responded to his niece’s comment.

“Hey Snoopy, she will be someday so if Charlie Brown wants to call her Aunt Pam now, he can.”

Pam, at hearing what she heard, looked affectionately at Jim, warmth and tiny bubbles filling her whole body. She knew not tonight, especially now that their romantic dinner had become a foursome, but the spoken confirmation of where they were headed was enough for her to feel lighter and happier despite her nerves about the night ahead watching the kids.

“Should I call her that, too?”

“I think she’d like that.” He turned to face Pam whose cheeks were now reddening as the kids finally seemed to take notice of her as their Uncle pulled her in a little closer.

Jim knew what Pam was talking about with Ping Pong, having learned of the helpful game her parents made up when she and her sister were children, who acted a lot like the two moppets in front of him. She’d told him about it back on their first date. Just as he had back then, he let her explain how it worked.

“When my sister and I were just about your ages we also used to want to share stories with my dad at the same time.”

Marcie was making her way down the stairs again, with the baby now asleep in the carrier to join her husband in the room and watch her kids listen with quiet fascination as Pam went on.

“So, we used to play a game we called Ping Pong. When my dad said Ping, it meant it was my turn to speak. I could tell my stories or show him the pictures I drew or show him a good grade I got on a test. But as soon as he said Pong, I had to freeze and stop talking because it was my sister’s turn to tell her stories and show off her dance moves. She took a lot of dance classes. And then after a few spins and arabesques, he’d say Ping again and she had to freeze. It was really funny when he made her freeze on tip toes.”

The kids finally were quiet as they listened to Pam while the older Halperts smiled as Pam had seemed to do what up until moments ago seemed impossible, at least not by means of bribery, food or TV, silence their kids.

“What do you think? Want to try it?”

“Okay,” they both whispered.

Now that the kids were taking turns speaking, Pam was able to give them each some personal attention as they repeated the overlapping tales from minutes ago, responding to them with smiles and nods as they shared.

Pam knelt down to meet Charlie’s delighted eyes, “I would love to meet Mr. Dwigt...” Pam quickly glanced at Jim, knowing full well he’d somehow been involved in naming the stuffed toy, “and all your animal friends. After your mom and dad say goodnight do you think you can show me your room where they live?”

Charlie nodded happily while out of the corner of her eye Pam noticed Vanessa nearly bursting to talk even though they were still on Pong.

“Ping.”

Pam relieved her before the exuberance all but exploded out of her.

“Will you come see my room too?”

“Of course I will. I hear I’m going to love it since there are a whole lot of Snoopys in there.”

Jim finally called Ping Pong to end the game after noticing Tom tap his watch.

“Did you know Aunt Pam was once called Snoopy too? And, get this, she can draw him. Woodstock and Charlie Brown too. She’ll show you but first I think mommy and daddy want to say goodbye.”

Tom came over to give each of his kids a kiss goodnight while Marcie pulled Pam aside.

“That was amazing. They’ve never been so quiet. I’m going to have to start using that.”

She then took her turn saying goodnight.

“Ok kids, remember Jim and Pam are in charge tonight and whatever they say goes. Be good for them and listen to what they say. I love you and I love you,” she said as she kissed each of their foreheads.

“Call us if you need anything and Happy New Year,” Tom said to them as he picked up the car seat.

“Thanks bro. Same to you.”

“Have fun at the wedding,” Pam added. Marcie and Tom disappeared through the garage door leaving them alone with the kids.

“Who wants a present?”

“Meeee,” the kids both gleefully responded.

“Well, you are in luck because Pam brought you each one. I told her Santa had brought you enough at Christmas but she insisted.”

Like Matryoshka dolls in reverse, the little smirk on Jim’s face was surpassed by the bigger smile on Pam’s which was overshadowed by the gleeful grins that spread across the kids as she pulled the gifts out from the bag and handed them each to the kids.

After watching the kids opening the presents and receiving the chorus of thank yous that followed, Pam snuck out to change into her own casual yoga pants that she retrieved from the bag when she took out the gifts. Upon emerging from the bathroom now ready for a night of play, the four of them took a tour of Charlie’s room so Pam could meet Mr. Dwigt—despite the fact she already knew his namesake all too well—and the rest of his furry animal friends. 

Charlie demonstrated how he taught all of them to fly – sending every one of his stuffed toys on a trajectory across the room to land near the mesh bucket where they normally lived. But when he announced he too learned to fly, climbing up onto the bed and bouncing a few times before he tried to take flight, Pam sent Jim to grab him before he launched himself into orbit and a surefire accident.

Once Charlie was safe back on solid ground, they all played a few of Charlie’s board games, Pam losing at Chutes and Ladders but winning big at Candy Land by landing on all of the shortcuts helping her to arrive at Candy Castle first.

Whether it was the subliminal effect of the candy on the board tempting them or just it was dinnertime for the kids, Charlie now announced he was hungry.

“Then I guess it’s dinnertime,” Jim proclaimed.

“That’s not fair.  Pam was supposed to come see my room,” Vanessa whined.

“But I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. I want Pam to see my room first.”

“I wanna eat somting.”

“You’ll have to wait you selfish pig.”

The voices that moments ago were soft and sweet were slowly getting louder, meaner and in Charlie’s case, undecipherable, as he began to cry.

Pam and Jim looked at each other for a moment, silently communicating what do we do now before Pam sprang to action. First, she proclaimed that Jim, not Charlie, was in fact the pig, and such he was giving piggyback rides. And right on cue, Jim scooped up Charlie for a ride out of the room and towards the staircase, making a rolling motion with his finger and dipping his head to a small bow, which Pam returned before she turned to appeal to Vanessa.

“How about we eat first and then I’ll come see your room, and I’ll give you an art lesson while the boys set up a fort. And I’ll draw you a whole bunch of Snoopy’s. Deal?”

“Deal,” Vanessa answered as they left Charlie’s room.

When they caught up to the others near the stairs, Charlie was smiling again. Jim set him back to the floor before they all head down, at Pam’s suggestion, on foot.

Pam was surprised how easily they were able to diffuse the situation and how well the entire night was going so far. She had been so nervous and she was slowly realizing it was for nothing. All she had to do was employ the same tactics she used to keep Michael from acting on his impulses or in this case keep Jim and Dwight from killing each other.

They made their way to the combined kitchen/family room which was bursting with toys. The fridge was adorned with primitive artwork, drawings of stick figures with giant heads and four fingered hands and simple snowmen in snow-covered fields, color-coded schedules for practices and school events and a magnet that read, All of my plants are dead. The good news is, the kids are still alive.

Pam put the kids to works setting out their plates and grabbing the juice boxes from the fridge and put Jim to work heating up the chicken nuggets as she grabbed the Gogurt tube from the freezer and baby carrots and guacamole from the fridge.

Per Marcie’s instructions she counted out 5 carrot sticks and set them on Charlie’s plate along with the yogurt tube that she was told not to open until after he’d eaten all the carrots. On Vanessa’s plate she put a handful of carrots and a scoop of the guac.

“Snoopy likes to eat green mush. Eeeww”

“It’s called guacamole, Charlie,” she retorted back at him. “And don’t yuck my yum.”

Pam's ears perked up as Vanessa rebuked her brother.

“What was that you said to him? Don’t yuck my yum? Snoopy...” Pam finally felt comfortable calling her what seemed the more common way to address Jim’s niece, “I love that.”

“Yeah, well my mom says it’s not nice to make people feel bad about foods they like.” She turned to glare at her brother. “But Charlie still does.”

Charlie stuck his tongue out at his sister but she didn’t catch it as she went back to eating her green mush. Jim did however and sent him a warning wave of his finger although Pam caught the half smile on his face. Meeting his eyes with her own Pam added, “I might have to use that line on your uncle. He yucks my yum, too.”

“Uncle Jim you shouldn’t do that. It’s not nice.”

“Yeah,” added Pam.

Once the kids were fed Pam let Vanessa lead her to her room leaving Jim and Charlie to deconstruct the couch and set up their fort. To say Vanessa's room had a Snoopy motif was putting it mildly. Stepping into it Pam felt like she had entered a sacred shrine for Charles M. Schultz. There were at least 6 Snoopy dolls on the bed, a Flying Ace, a Joe Cool, one with a Santa hat and another with a graduation cap, the last few were plain Snoopys that looked worn but very loved.

The bed itself was made up with a Snoopy blanket atop Peanuts gang sheets. On the walls were a variety of framed posters some with Snoopy and Woodstock and some with the whole gang. Pam's immediate favorite was the Charlie Brown and Snoopy on a dock staring out at Van Gogh's Starry Night. At the foot of the bed were a pair of Snoopy slippers while across the room a doghouse topped bookcase was filled with Peanuts puzzles, books and toys. An overabundance of Snoopy already filling the room did not keep Vanessa from wanting Pam to draw a whole bunch more for her on the back of her notebooks and the paper bag wrapped school books.

True to her word, Pam gave Vanessa an art lesson, teaching her a few tricks using combined shapes to construct a rendering of her favorite character and namesake. Vanessa’s attempts were not half bad so Pam, delighted to have possibly found an art student to mentor, taught her some other techniques for shading and hatching when adding more detail to her art. Vanessa listened intently, asking a lot of questions and seeking Pam’s appraisal as she employed the methods Pam showed her.

“You’re a really good teacher. At school, Mrs. Kent just passes out crayons and tells us what to draw. She never shows us stuff like this.”

“That’s really too bad. My 3rd grade art teacher was the one who taught me to love drawing and painting. But you can consider me your substitute teacher. Whenever I see you, I’m happy to give you lessons.”

While she watched her little student draw a snowman amid a landscape of snowy hills, she noticed how much richer the art seemed than the similar picture she’d seen on the fridge. It felt good, to be able to share her knowledge and her love of art with the sweet girl who sat beside her. Pam made a mental note to pick up a set of good art pencils to send to Vanessa the next time she went shopping for supplies.

The art lesson went on for a while as Vanessa asked her to show her more. While enjoying the bonding time with Vanessa she wanted to get back to Jim and see what the boys were up to. Peeking back at the bookcase, she scanned the stack of games for another one they could all play.

“Snoopy, what do you say we take that Twister game you’ve got there downstairs and join the boys.”

When they got downstairs the family room had been renovated to a campground of pillows, couch cushions and blankets, underneath which Charlie and Jim were crawling around stealthily and pretending to be spies. Jim was mostly hanging out at the far side where the blanket that hung over the island’s bar stools afforded him a little more space. When Charlie caught Vanessa coming in on the opposite end, he hollered out at her.

“No girls allowed.”

Jim crawled up behind him. Despite his best attempts to stay low, his long frame pushed against the blanket roof almost taking out the quilt that covered the middle.

“Hey buddy, remember what I told you. When the girls came down we’d have to let them in too or we’d take the whole thing down. Right?”

Charlie nodded in reluctant agreement but allowed the girls into their fortress. Pam got down on all fours and crawled up to where Jim had returned to camp.

“This is pretty cozy.”

“Easy for you to say, you barely have to duck. I’ve been crawling around in here for almost an hour, and it’s starting to take a toll on my back.”

Lowering his voice so the kids wouldn’t hear him he added, “and there are other things I can think of to do in here on all fours other than pretending to be a CIA officer with Charlie.”

“Oh, like what Halpert?”

Jim leaned in to kiss her when both the kids suddenly came upon them. Charlie started ooohing while Vanessa just smiled.

Just then Jim started to roar, startling even Pam as he threw out his arms jumping to his feet, this time really taking out the fort’s rooftop.

“Argghhhhh, I’ve fallen under a magic spell that turned me into an ogre. And ogre that likes to eat little children.”

He started after the kids as they shrieked happily running from him. Pam watched as Jim chased them around the cushions that were now tumbling over forming road blocks around the room.

“The only thing that can turn me back is the kiss of a fair maiden.”

Jim scooped up Charlie.

“You look mighty tasty. I bet you taste like guacamole,” he said as he licked his lips making a real show of it.

Vanessa ran back to where Jim had just seized her brother making a helpless attempt to pull him down from the ogre. Turning back to Pam she called for help just as Jim grabbed her too, now holding both of the kids in each of his arms.

“Aunt Pam. Help us. He’s going to eat us.”

Pam pretended to be hard of hearing and oblivious to the scene in front of her, trying hard not to smile at the crystal ball vision that was playing out in front of her.

She’d always thought he’d make a great father one day having seen him at enough take your daughter to work days to see how great he was with kids but she had never thought about him as the father of her own kids until seeing him now.

Likewise, never did she consider her own insecurity at being around kids could be a product of who she was with and not from any personal shortcomings. Relating to children somehow seemed easier with Jim as her partner. Watching his natural playfulness and true joy around kids, she couldn’t help but feel those same things herself. Knowing Jim would be an active parent when the time came, and not having to worry all the responsibilities would fall on her shoulders as she often did when she was with Roy, made a huge difference in her attitude and allowed her natural instincts to come out. Natural instincts, it turns out that were, as Jim had said, very motherly indeed.

“Pam, hurry up and kiss him before he makes us his dinner.”

Jim growled some more.

“This is one hungry ogre. Hmmm Snoopy or Charlie Brown, who shall I try first?”

Coming to the rescue at last Pam finally made her way to where Jim had both the kids squirming in his arms and planted a chaste but sweet kiss on his lips.

“Huh, wuh, what happened,” he pretended to be confused as he set the still giggling kids back down.

“You were a hungry ogre Uncle Jim. You tried to eat us.”

“Oh well now I’m just a hungry Uncle, he said before turning to Pam and adding quietly, “and tired.”

Pam was actually a little tired and hungry too having only had a few carrot sticks when the kids ate and thought coffee might help them perk up and tie them over until the kids went to sleep and they could eat themselves.

“I think it’s time for a cocoa and coffee break. What do you say Uncle Jim?”

— Shh

—Not yet

—Now You may Speak

This was on the first mug Jim pulled down from the cabinet. A lopsided grin came over his face as he pulled out three more, not paying much attention to what adorned the rest now that the kettle on the stove had gone from a faint rumble to a screaming whistle.

The kettle.

Filled with water.

Water, he thought in disgust.

He couldn’t believe his brother sanctioned the drinking of chocolate water. Growing up, their family always had their hot cocoa made with milk, never water. But the kids insisted, when he made the mistake of posing the question, on cocoa made with water and not milk as he suggested.

He quickly opened two hot chocolate packs with marshmallows, at least Marcie got that right even though the small dehydrated pellets that came in the Swiss Miss were a poor substitution for the Jet-puffed pillows Betsy added when they were young.  He dumped them into two mugs and quickly grabbed the kettle from the stove. At least he and Pam would not be subjected to drinking the offensive chocolate liquid, having coffee themselves.

Vanessa was the first to arrive back in the kitchen, dressed in Snoopy pajamas of course, plopping herself on one of the stools that had been returned to their proper spot in front of the island.

“Uncle Jim,” she said, her tone serious and questioning.

“Yeah Snoop?”

She looked up at her uncle, her eyes bearing into him, dark with the painful curiosity of a child who’d heard more than she could understand at her tender age.

“Did you take Pam away from her husband?”

Jim turned to look at his niece. Had his brother been here he might had thought it was her father making her ask, making her part of one of his stupid pranks. And even without him here, Jim still thought it could be a set up but seeing the earnest look on Vanessa’s face he knew she was asking a legitimate question. When Jim took too long to answer, she went on.

“I remember one-time hearing Grandma telling Daddy how Pam, the girl you liked was getting married. Did she?”

“Did she what?”

“Get married.”

“No, Snoopy she didn’t. If she did then she wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Then did you make them break up?”

This child really did live up to her nickname.

Jim was supposed to be the grownup, the one with the answers but suddenly he felt awkward and unsure under the scrutiny of an 8-year-old who asking some very adult questions. Truth was he did kind of take Pam away. Had he never spoke his piece, she might be married to him now and Jim might be in New York with Karen. But he did, not just because of what he felt for her, but because it pained him to see her with someone who was so wrong for her. He knew Roy didn’t treat her right, didn’t nurture her, didn’t respect her, and mostly, didn’t know what he had in her. But how do you tell that to a child?

“Well Vanessa…”

He called her by her name this time, feeling the conversation getting serious enough to warrant it.

“That’s a really grown-up question, but to give you an answer, I didn’t make Pam not marry her husband. But I did tell her how I felt about her before she got married and let her decide what she wanted to do. I didn’t think the man she was going to marry treated her right. But I would never make her do something she didn’t really want to or keep her from doing something she wanted to. Because I love her. So, I told her that and she let her heart decide. But I was really glad when her heart chose me.”

Just as he finished speaking, Pam and Charlie returned to the kitchen. She’d heard only the tail end of the conversation but knew somehow it was about her. With years of veiled communication between them having formed a glossary of articulative expressions Pam shot him an unspoken, what have I stumbled into? He responded with a silent thank god you’re here, she’s asking questions to which Pam’s eyes answered don’t worry you’re doing just fine while the smile that spread across her lips said, I’m glad my heart chose you, too.

Still, he wasn’t used to having heart to hearts about love with an eight-year-old and he was glad to change the subject and get Vanessa’s mind back onto nighttime snacks instead of broken engagements.

Jim brought the two hot cocoas to the island, while Pam grabbed the other mugs to fill them with the coffee that had just finished brewing. Jim had already found the sugar and the cinnamon and taken the milk from the fridge, having cringed once more to think it was not used to make the hot chocolate.

Setting a Dad, The Man, the Myth, The Legend mug in front of Vanessa, he noticed her expression change again especially as Pam returned to the table with the last two mugs filled with coffee, setting them in front of Jim and herself.  

“That’s my Snoopy mug,” she announced with a bit of sass to her voice. “It’s my special mug, that I always use cause it’s got Snoopy on it.”

Jim even forehead creased as he lifted it to the sky shooting Pam the look usually reserved for the cameras.

“So how about tonight, you use Dad’s mug since I already put coffee into yours for Pam?”

He said it calmly, though Pam could tell there was a bit of frustration in his tone, the quality not too far from how he spoke to Michael but not quite as exasperated as when dealing with Dwight.

“That’s alright. I’ll switch my coffee to a new mug and rinse the Snoopy out so Vanessa can have it. It is hers and I know we all like to drink from our own special mug.”

For a moment it seemed Vanessa was happy to go along with the game of musical mugs, but then she put her hands on the mug in front of her.

“No Uncle Jim. That’s okay, Aunt Pam can have the Snoopy mug.”

With that Jim’s face morphed again, a little surprised smirk directed to Pam which she answered in turn with a little raised eyebrow and subtle smile of her own.

“Thanks, Snoopy. That means a lot because I know how much this mug means to you.”

Vanessa picked up her Dad’s normal mug and took a sip solidifying her decision to keep the mug she was given and let Pam drink from Snoopy.

Licking her lips and reacting with a satisfied ahhh she explained. 

“Well, I let my heart decide and my heart said you should have it.”

“Left Foot Red.”

They had planned to get the kids off to bed after the cocoa and coffee, but pleads from Charlie to stay up a little longer and cries of “what about playing Twister” from Vanessa delayed bedtime.

Instead of reading stories as they had planned, Jim was sitting on a solitary cushion on the couch, the rest still strewn around the floor though no longer resembling a fort of any kind. Acting as master spinner and referee due to his unfair height advantage, he was thankful to sit out as his back was already a bit tight, the byproduct of crawling around in a fort built to accommodate a 4-year-old Halpert and not the full-grown variety.

That left Pam to help Charlie to figure out which side was left as she craned her own left foot onto the open red dot on the plastic sheet.

“Is this my left?” Charlie finally held up his left hand after getting it wrong the first two spins.

Vanessa teased him about it until Pam confided in them that she too had left-right confusion when she was younger, a fact she’d never told Jim so she peeked back to see his face as she revealed another childhood secret. Turning back to face Charlie after catching Jim’s raised eyebrow and askew smile, she showed him the trick that helped her to learn her left from right. The fact that she still had to use the trick from time to time, would be discussed later as Jim now understood why she sometimes was late to tell him which way to turn when she served as map reader and navigator on their trips to new places. And why she often turned away from him when he asked. 

“So, you hold your hands up like this,” Pam spoke, folding down the last three fingers on each hand as she demonstrated the useful gesture. The one that has the L in the right direction is your left.”

“Daddy forgeteds his left from right lots. He makes a lot of l’s but he makes them higher.”

Charlie parroted his dad, bringing his hand up to his forehand to make the loser sign.

When Pam, Jim and Vanessa all laughed, Charlie parroted them too, giggling sillily without quite knowing why.

On the next spin when they all had to reach back to place a left foot on green, the three players toppled over, falling into a tangled jumble on the mat, Pam giggling like a schoolgirl, her face flush from the exertion. When Jim came up behind her and whispered in her ear, “we should play this game ourselves after the kids go to bed”, she smacked him playfully, the red hue of her cheeks turning a shade closer to crimson than the subtle pink it had been.

A number of rounds later, four more than intended since Pam and Jim were not practiced at resisting hands clasped in supplication, pretty pleases, and the kryptonite of their sweet voices and pleading eyes, they finally announced it was time to go to bed.

Met with a few more whines, they almost caved again, but the late hour and their grumbling bellies were just a touch stronger than the puppy dog eyes that these two were almost certainly throwing their way with full knowledge of their power.

Pam made a mental note she needed to work on her parenting armor and build up her immunity to doe-eyed looks. This would likely not be a regular gig but it was a good taste of what having her own kids would be like and how much she’d need to firm up her resistance before then. Good thing it was years away from now.  

After they finally were able to usher the kids upstairs to begin the bedtime routine, Vanessa insisting she did not need supervision to brush her teeth but Charlie did as he sometimes forgot, they divided bed time story duties. Jim planned to go with Charlie, Pam with Vanessa, but Charlie soon squashed that plan, demanding Pam be the one to read to him.

“I guess that leaves me on story duty for you, Snoop.”

“Oh, I don’t need a story Uncle Jim.  But if Pam wants to come in and say goodnight when she’s done reading to Charlie, I wouldn’t mind that.”

Relieved of duty, Jim gave each of his relatives a good night hug, wished them sweet dreams and returned to the main floor to start returning the family room to a state closer to what it had been before the night began, only half a disaster instead of the full-blown one it was now.

Pam started in Charlie’s room, helping him into bed and pulling a book from the shelf.

“This one good?” she asked.  

His head turned from side to side.

“Okay, not a fan of Harold’s Purple Crayon.”

It was her favorite growing up but Pam moved on to the next book. Holding up “The Snowy Day” she asked, “How about this one?”

“No, I want the pancake one.”

Pam scanned the shelves until she came upon the one he must have meant.

“This one?”

Charlie smiled broadly and nodded his head and she knew she had the right one so she pulled up the chair to the side of his bed and opened the book to begin reading.

“If you give a pig a pancake, she’ll want some syrup to go with it.”

Pam barely got three pages in when she looked down at Charlie to see his eyelids fluttering, fighting the sleep that was descending upon him but helpless against the pixies coming to taking him to la-la land. She read one more page and he was gone, off to feed pancakes to a pig in his dreams.

But Pam kept on reading. She was enjoying the sweet story and its circular trail, feeling a lot like the little girl at the end, exhausted but from all the wonderfully fun activities she’d shared with her little swine friend.

In her mind she once again opened her mental notepad, jotting down this book and author, knowing one day she’d want to read it to her own child.

Kissing Charlie on the forehead, much in the same way Jim often kissed her, she tucked the covers around him, turned off the light on the small nightstand and retreated from the room.

She had started down the stairs when she remembered how Vanessa requested she stop in to say goodnight too, just as she heard the child’s little call to her.

“Aunt Pam…”

Pam turned on her heels and made her way back up, taking a left when she reached the landing to visit Vanessa. Vanessa was already burrowed in the bed, the 6 Snoopy dolls tucked in with her under the comforter.

Pam walked up to the bed to say goodnight but Vanessa began talking before Pam could speak.

“I’ve heard my parents talking about how my uncle’s been in love with you for years.”

 Pam blushed as Vanessa went on. 

“and how happy he was when you finally started dating.”

“I was pretty happy when he asked me out. I was in love with your uncle for a long time, too.”

“So how come?”

“How come what?”

“How come it took you guys so long to start dating?”

Pam thought about Vanessa’s question for a minute. Sometimes she wondered that herself.  

“I’m not sure Vanessa.” Somehow, she felt since they were having a more adult conversation, it made sense to call her by her given name.

“I guess I just wasn’t paying enough attention to what I was feeling.”

“You weren’t listening to your heart?”

They may have called her Snoopy, but she had a lot of Lucy in her too. She wouldn’t be surprised if instead of a lemonade booth, she ran a psychoanalysis booth in the summer.

“I guess not.”

“But you are now, right.”

“Absolutely, I am.” 

“Good. Cause we love you too, Pam. And we want you to be part of our family, forever.”

She walked out of the room, her nose hot and eyes glossy with happy tears. It didn’t matter anymore that in 5 years of daughters coming to the office, she had never bonded with one of them. Tonight, she discovered that she was good with children, she had what it takes to be a good mother someday and she had the partner who knew it all along and helped her to realize it.  And with him came a family so welcoming and openhearted she knew theirs would be a life rich with love and a solid familial bond.

---

While Pam was upstairs tending to bedtime, Jim had tidied up and set up a little smorgasbord of snacks on the cocktail table. All the stuff she requested was laid out like a little picnic including the hummus and pita chips.  

“I still can’t believe you like this stuff,” he remarked as she grabbed a chip and used it to scoop up the creamy dip before she fell back into the couch.

“Hey, Halpert. Don’t yuck my yum.”

The house finally quiet, nourishment finally giving them a much-needed revitalization, they snuggled together as they watched TV, switching between Ryan Seacrest and Carson Daly and enjoying the fancy champagne that Marcie and Tom left for them.

“You know I was wrong when I told you it didn’t matter where we spent New Year’s Eve.”

Jim was a little surprised to hear this confession from her, especially now. The night seemed to go remarkably well. Pam was a natural with the kids, as he suspected she would be. They were pretty much in the same position as they would be had they gone to dinner as planned, back on the couch, Pam nestled within his arms, her head resting on his chest, his lips hovering inches above her head so he can plant little kisses on it from time to time. Sure, they were in New Jersey instead of Scranton but they were together, on a bigger couch, with a fancier bottle of Champagne and a bigger TV to watch the ball drop.

“I was wrong, because I didn’t know then that tonight would be so fun, so fun and so fulfilling and well make me fall even more in love with you, if that’s even possible. I can’t imagine any place I would have rather spent our first New Year’s Eve than here with Snoopy and Charlie Brown and you.”

Jim was barely able to respond, eking out an, “I fall more in love with you every day, Pam. And tonight, tonight felt like a week, but I loved every minute of it and seeing you with the kids was like a glimpse of our future. I’m a lucky…”

He was cut off by the clatter of the crowds on the TV, the countdown timer suddenly at :10.

Together they counted down the last moments of 2007.

“10”

“9”

“8”

“7”

“6”

“5”

“4”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“Happy New Year.”

With her lips still pressed against his as they rang in the new year with a kiss, Pam, having known since the car she’d have her chance to get him at midnight, uttered the word that had become like code for I love you between them.

  “Jinx.”

A year ago, Mondays at the office were particularly rough for Pam, and back then the first Monday of the new year, well it was a good thing the office was closed that day.

Aside from suffering with a hangover that rivaled the one she had following the Dundies night where she was banned forever from Chili’s, Pam was feeling particularly sorry for herself that day. Even though Isobel had forced her to attend a lively party the night before and worked to keep her in good spirits through the night, she couldn’t prevent the misery Pam felt having no one to kiss as 2007 started.

Misery because the only person she wanted to kiss, the one who’s lips she still felt on hers, the one who’s full, soft, perfect mouth, when met with hers turned her body and resolve to mush but activated a phantom pain that crept up constantly to remind her of her biggest mistake, he was surely using those lips to melt someone else’s insides at midnight.

But that was a year ago, 365 days, 525,600 minutes. A lot had changed in those 31,540,000 seconds.

The office, it seemed, had not.

It was only 7 days into the new year but any resolutions their officemates made seemed to fade as quickly as the first weekend of the new year did. The excitement of the holidays and the brand-new year had passed. It was back to predictability and regular routines.

Angela back to passing judgement on the clothes the other women wore to work.

Oscar was back to correcting their grammar when his colleagues spoke.

Stanley was back to grumbling about everything.

Even Jim was back to taunting Dwight with his pranks.

But none of it bothered Pam. This was going to be her year. The year of Pam and Jim. It took a long time to come, but now that they were solid, all was good in her world. Let her officemates carry on and act like children. After her New Year’s she knew she was prepared. So much so that when Michael came storming out of his office in a fit over a memo from Toby cancelling all of the first quarter office events he’d been planning, she immediately jumped on her IM to message Jim.

Receptionitis 15: Michael seems a little cranky. I think he might need a piggyback ride.

Jim9334: And what kind of negotiation are you going to try to broker with Toby while I’m off breaking my back?

Receptionitis 15: I’ll promise him an art lesson, if Michael can have one of his office holiday events back. But which one, Grammy Day Karaoke or Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast day…

 Jim9334: I was hoping for Ben Franklin day. I was really looking forward to seeing your other boyfriend again.

Receptionitis 15: Keep up your wisecracks Halpert and I’ll get him to agree to Tolkien Reading Day. I’m sure you’d enjoy sitting next to Dwight on that day.

Jim9334: Truce, ok, that would be no fun for anyone.

Pam signed out of the chat, looking up at Jim instead with a twinkle in her eye and the cute smile that she wore so often now, the smile he looked up from his desk multiple times a day to gaze at, now that he knew it was there because of him.

It was that cute smile he caught on her face again later. They’d just come back from lunch and she was sorting through the mail that arrived while they were in the breakroom.

There wasn’t a lot this Monday. A few letters for accounting. An interoffice envelope for Toby. A few pieces for the salespeople. But there was a package, odd since most of the packages went straight to the warehouse. On closer inspection she noticed the package was addressed to her. Raising it up she displayed it for Jim, her first thought being it was from him, to let him know it arrived and she was about to dive in.

Looking back down she noticed her name was spelled wrong, with an extra e between the l and y so she realized it wasn’t from Jim after all, nor was it a late present from her family, who all knew her home address anyway.  It wasn’t until she saw the New Jersey return address that she knew exactly who it was from.

From back at his desk, Jim watched Pam as she examined the package that arrived with the mail. He needed no invitation to join her, a magnetic pull drawing him to reception sparked from the memory of another time she opened a gift while sitting in that same spot. The coy smile she wore back then was slowly forming again and it yanked him uncontrollably to join her.

The expression on her face was so familiar. The childlike wonder she wore as she guessed at what could be inside while excited fingers tore at the package evoked memories of another time when she first opened the box that contained her teapot, that is before Michael nearly ruined the bigger reveal with his ridiculous Yankee Swap.  

From inside of it, Pam pulled out a note.

Her eyes scanned the pages, reading it silently while Jim looked on.

Pam,

We can’t thank you enough for babysitting for us on New Year’s Eve. I don’t know what kind of magic you have but the kids have not stopped talking about you. We wanted to send you a little something to thank you and they both insisted on adding a little something personal from themselves- and wow you must have made some impression on Snoopy for her to send you this.

A small smile came over Pam’s face as she passed the first page onto Jim. She had an inkling she knew what was sitting in the box, the lump wrapped in white tissue and cushioned in old newspaper. But before she got to it, there was page two of the letter, which wasn’t a letter at all but a picture.

She recognized the artistic style immediately. On the page were 3 giant heads attached to a tangle of haphazard lines. Below the lines were a series of green, yellow, blue and red blobs. Off to the side, was one more giant head with a mess of scribbles atop it. This was attached to a very long stick figure body.

Pam’s heart warmed as she took in the drawing, her cheeks filling out as her lips curled ever so slightly higher, her eyes sparkling as a coat of moisture filled in them.   

She passed this page along to Jim. The confused smile on his face let Pam know he wasn’t clued in to artistic expression of a 4-year old.

“It’s us playing Twister,” she clarified as she took it back, taping it up next to the photo of her and Jim posing in their fun run tees.

“Oh, that’s me, huh – I guess I do need a haircut.”

Moving on to the box, Pam pulled away at the tissue paper, noticing more colors, this time strings tied around the beaded letters of a knotted bracelet. Recognizing it was from the kit she gave Vanessa; her tickled cheeks puffed some more as she admired the colorful new bracelet that read Aunt Pam.

“Where’s mine?” Jim implored, to which Pam just gave him a boastful smile before returning to the box.

As she unwrapped the tissue paper from around the gift that lay inside it, the smile on her face exploded. She was right, it was the mug.

The mug with the Snoopy, her special mug, that she was now gifting to Pam.

Inside the mug was another note, this one also had a child’s drawing, of Snoopy hugging his little bird friend – hearts above their heads. It was still obviously the work of a child, but not bad. It was obvious she’d been practicing what Pam showed her. She opened the folded paper to read what Vanessa had written.

You forgot to take the Snoopy mug. When my heart said you should have it it meant you should have it have it. Come back to visit us soon Aunt Pam.

Love, Snoopy

Passing this note along to Jim, she held up the mug, beaming almost as much as he now was as he spoke.

“What did I tell you Beesly, I told you they’d love you and they did. I mean how could they not, they have Halpert taste and well, that taste is pretty good.”

She turned back to attend to the box, when she noticed one more thing on the bottom.

More, she thought to herself, now what’s this? It was another small envelope, the size of a gift card with writing on the back, in Marcie’s cheerful text.

Since we took you away from your New Year’s dinner, we figured we’d treat you to one.

Pam read it aloud as she opened the small envelope, pulling out the gift card in it. Jim watched with an extraordinary sense of déjà vu as the exuberant mirth that came over her when she discovered her teapot’s bonus gifts emerged once again. Like back then she exploded into a fit of gleeful giggles.

As soon as she held up the gift card, he knew why.

It was for Chili’s.