Pam takes the stairs two at a time, her quick pace fueled by the overwhelming desire to confront Jim and get to the bottom of the situation. She moves blindly towards the bedroom in which she’d woken up. She thinks Jim must still be in there – she hasn’t been gone long and she doesn’t remember hearing him on the stairs.

She’s moving so quickly that she doesn’t notice the small, furry creature curled up near the top of the stairs. Her eyes straight ahead, never moving from her goal, her foot connects with the fuzzy mass, her screech of shock barely drowning out the started, angry yelp of the animal. The ball of hair shoots down the hall and into the bedroom toward which Pam stares.

Thrown off-balance, Pam stumbles up the few steps and falls into the wall, hitting her knee against the top stair as she slumps sideways against the wall.

She is sitting with her back to the wall, rubbing her knee when Jim runs from the bedroom, a pillow in one hand and a clean sheet trailing from the other.

“What happened?”

A look of concern crosses his face and he searches the hall for an injured child. His eyes land on Pam, rubbing her knee and clearly disheveled by her fall. She doesn’t appear hurt, just annoyed and a smirk quickly replaces his look of concern.

She glares up at him, seeing the barely contained smile on his lips.

“I kicked something small and brown and furry and gross. Then I fell.”

Jim snorts before he can stop himself.

“You mean Tinkerbell?”

Pam’s pounding heart slows slightly. That doesn’t sound like a name for a rat, which is what she had been thinking it was.

“Tinkerbell?”

“Yeah. She just ran into the bedroom and is hiding under the bed.”

Her mind racing, Pam stands and heads towards the end of the hall, entering the room cautiously. The last thing she needs is another unexpected encounter with this creature. She kneels on her still throbbing knee and peers under the bed.

There, glaring at her with a look of contempt is a small cat, its fur a mess of stripes and splotches in varying shades of brown. It looks rattled but otherwise unharmed.

Pam breathes a sigh of relief.

Hearing her sigh, Jim stares at her quizzically.

“I thought it was a rat.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

“Okay crazy lady. I’m gonna go work on the kids while you get ready. We need to leave in about an hour if we want to get there early.”

Pam’s head throbs and she searches for some idea of where they’re supposed to be going. She wonders if he might have mentioned it. She hopes it might explain why she can’t remember anything, why she thinks she’s supposed to be engaged to Roy and not married to Jim and apparently the mother of his children.

She doesn’t think it will.

“What?” She asks flatly.

His brows furrowing slightly, Jim tilts his head, not sure what she’s asking.

“Well, the game starts at about three so we should leave pretty soon.” He says this slowly, wondering if he’s on the right track.

She stares blankly at him, lacking the energy to form another question. 

Jim looks back at her, a similar look on his face. When he sees she has no idea what he’s talking about, he is dumbfounded.

“Pam. The game.”

Seeing her look, unchanged but for a bit of frustration, he continues.

“It’s the fourteenth. Phillies and Cardinals. We’ve had these tickets for weeks.”

Oh. Baseball.

She remembers the photograph next to the bed, the children in their baseball hats and t-shirts. She opens her mouth, trying to form words that don’t come to her. She needs to ask him what’s going on, but she’s no longer sure he knows. He doesn’t seem to think there’s a problem.

Seeing the slight look of recognition on her face at his mention of the Phillies, he takes it to mean that she understands they need to get moving.

“Okay. So I’m going to go get them ready while you shower.”

Pam can only gaze at him helplessly as he walks towards the door, each of his steps taking her chance at figuring things out further and further away.

“Jim – I…” He turns and she tries to form the rest of the sentence, tries to explain that she doesn’t belong here, as much as she’s starting to think she might. But the explanation eludes her and all she can do is stare at him.

She notices for the first time that he’d changed into jeans and a bright blue t-shirt, the word “Phillies” emblazoned across his chest in red letters. Staring at the word, she forms new resolve and spits out the words before they can get stuck in her throat.

“Wait. Can we talk for a second?”

Jim sighs loudly, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“Can it wait, Pam? The kids are still in their pajamas, the kitchen is a mess, and we have to leave soon.”

Hearing frustration in his voice and not wanting to cause an argument with the one person she thinks might be able to help her, she gives him a slight nod and a small smile.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just get ready, then I’ll help you clean.” She figures cleaning is safe. She can help him clean and just avoid the children altogether. How much help could the kids really need, anyway? Surely not enough that she needs to get involved.

She looks down at her hands and absently turns the rings on her finger. It’s a habit she’s had for year – so long she rarely realizes she’s doing it. It’s what she does when there is something bothering her, when she needs to talk to someone about whatever is on her mind.

Jim notices the look on her face, a mixture of sadness and confusion and just a little bit of fear. He knows what it means when she plays with her rings like that, knows she just needs someone to listen to her.

He crosses the room and gathers her in a hug, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Hey. I’m sorry. We can talk now if you want to.”

Pam breathes in the scent of him, his aftershave mingling with his shampoo. Each of her nerves tingles with the unexpected contact and she can barely get the words out.

“No. It’s okay. It can wait.” 

She’s not sure it even matters. Sure, she might get some answers, but will it really change anything?

She smiles up at him, a genuine smile, the feeling of his arms around her washing away everything else. She can smell his cologne and knows he put it on just for her, just because she likes it. She thinks he always has and knows he always will, regardless of what the truth might be. That’s just who he is.

“You sure?” He looks down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his smile reaches them.

Pam can only manage a smile and a nod. She’s not used to this proximity to him, not used to being able to see the flecks of brown sprinkled in the deep green of his eyes.

“Okay.” He leans toward her, pressing a kiss into the top of her head and giving her a brief squeeze before stepping away and leaving the room.

Pam gazes after him, wondering how she got to be so lucky, wondering when she came to her senses and chose him.

With a start, she realizes she hasn’t. This isn’t real. She’s engaged to Roy. Whatever might be happening right now, she knows she’s still engaged to Roy. She’d been with him just last night.