Months later, he was lying in bed late at night… well, early in the morning, trying to turn off his brain long enough to fall asleep. He and Karen had talked about their relationship a lot lately, and unfortunately that meant talking about Pam. He spoke in the most general, vague terms, crushing that chapter of his life into something easily dismissed. He wasn’t even sure how he and Pam got boiled down to a crush and a kiss, but that’s what Karen decided to believe. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, at all, ever. He was glad when she finally slept, her eyes no longer searching his for something she would never find.
The funny thing was that the kiss almost never happened at all. He wasn’t looking for her. Jim just needed to grab his iPod from his desk drawer. And then Pam was standing at his desk, waiting for him, he thought at the time. God, he’d made an ass of himself. Maybe she was just curious, maybe she had cold feet about the wedding… it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t enough reason to stay.
“I’m in love with you.”
He didn’t regret saying it, not really. Even then, when he could hardly see her through his tears, could barely bring himself to breathe, let alone listen to her pushing him away with every word. This was it, this was all he was going to get, and it was hopeless. Everything she said boiled down to, “I can’t.”
And suddenly, lying in the dark eight months later, Jim thought he might know her password after all.
She was looking at him again. He could feel her eyes on his back, and thought he saw her brows knit together with concern from across the office a couple times. But he was still exhausted, and keyed up, and afraid to be wrong. He and Pam weren’t exactly talking, not since he teased her about Ben Franklin. He was just trying to make her laugh, but the fury in her voice stopped him cold. And now she was double-dating with Kelly and Ryan? Kelly stopped by Pam’s desk to chat all the time, making suggestions about her hair and clothes. Jim thought the guy’s name was Matt or Mark or something like that, but he tried not to hear it.
Karen seemed cautiously optimistic. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Kelly and Ryan were waiting for Pam at five. Kelly was trying to make Ryan change ties, and he batted her hand away, wearily but not unkindly. “Are you ready?” Kelly asked. Pam was fidgeting, picking up her message pad, setting it down over and over. She seemed to be gathering her courage. Jim watched from the break room. The office was nearly empty.
The phone rang, and Pam stooped to pick it up automatically. Jim walked quickly back to his desk, and before he could stop himself again, he tried the password that came to him in the night. I can.
Her files popped open, and he heard a soft chime from her computer.
She stopped writing. “I’m sure Michael will get back to you in the morning. Good night,” Pam set down the receiver and started shutting down her computer.
Jim turned, looking at them over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” he said to Ryan.
Ryan rolled his eyes as Kelly started fiddling with his tie again.
Jim smiled, and allowed himself to glance at Pam.
Pam was staring at him, wide-eyed with surprise. When she tried to shut down her computer, iTunes must have told her he was connected.
“Ready now? He’s already at the restaurant.” Kelly was excited, practically bouncing now.
Pam shook her head. “Who? Oh, yeah, let’s go.” As they left, she looked back over her shoulder, shrugging at him. He knew that look. What can you do? Kelly’s a force of nature.
Jim waited five minutes, until Angela left. She’s eyeing him suspiciously, but says nothing. He turned off the office lights and sat down at his desk in the blue glow from his monitor. Time to see what she’d been hiding all these months.
He chuckled, shaking his head a little. A lot of mainstream pop music here. New stuff, old stuff, 53 songs in all. Jim imported them all onto his iPod, shrugged into his coat, picked up his messenger bag, and headed out.
Once in his car, he plugged in his iPod and cranked up the volume.
“Yesterday was hell / But today I'm fine without you / Runaway this time without you / And all I ever thought you would be / That face is tearing holes in me.”
It was harder than he thought it would be to listen to her songs. He kept listening for meaning in every line, secret messages she hoped he would find. It’s not difficult.
“These better be her breaking-up-with-Roy songs,” he muttered, coasting to a stop at a red light. Eyes and hands restless, he drummed his right hand against the steering wheel as he looked around, waiting for the light to change. Ryan’s car was parked in front of a restaurant on the corner. Pam’s was next to it. Her new car was cute, like her.
When the light changed, Jim didn’t notice. The car behind him honked right as the song changed, and Jim tried to focus on his driving. It snowed last night, and the roads were icy.
“This night never happened if it’s all right with you / Another for the collection of things we didn’t do / The private party’s over / Thank god we get new starts…”
So far, Jim was not encouraged. He’s itching to change songs, but that wouldn’t be fair. She wanted him to hear these, right? She wouldn’t have used that password otherwise. He’d listen to her, even if it hurt.
“Hey, remember me / I remember you walking away / From all that you made / That you lost / Or threw away / Traded in for a brand new life / But I can't / Can't let go / Can't turn around / Hold my head high and walk away.”
And that hurt. He didn’t throw this life away. She said she couldn’t be with him. She said she was marrying Roy. She let him walk away, without a call, a letter, nothing. He found out from Michael of all people – months later -- that she hadn’t gotten married. But she can’t let go? That’s… well, he’s not really sure what to think about that. What it’s safe to think about that.
When he arrived home, he left the iPod in the car. He had a Pitt basketball game waiting on Tivo, and a beer in the fridge calling his name. Assuming Karen didn’t show up on his doorstep crying. Again.
