"Got it?" Jim asks, since it's taking them five minutes to get from the car to the door, and Pam looks like she might drop her cargo.
"I'm good," Pam says, and he hopes she is, because she's got the diaper bag, Stanley's retirement gift and Audrey in her arms, none of which would appreciate falling onto the wet pavement.
Jim himself tries to prop open the door, which is difficult with Owen clinging to him in one arm, a folded umbrella stroller in the other, and Evan belted into the twin stroller along with the bouquet of flowers for Stanley's wife.
They finally make it into the elevator, where Jim can't resist giving Pam a big smooch, which always makes the babies laugh, as if they know how delighted their parents are with life these days. "Being in this building kind of makes me want to go in the stairwell again," Pam says, raising her eyebrows suggestively, and Jim laughs. "You're going to gross out the children," he says, but he's happy to revisit the memory himself.
As they exit the elevator, they can hear the din of the party already in progress, and the cries of delight erupt when they enter the old office. Phyllis is right there, scooping her little Evan out of the stroller, making him giggle with kisses on his belly. She's their main sitter, and she and Bob even stayed with the kids last month when Jim and Pam had a night away at the Radisson for their anniversary.
Stanley makes his way over to them, all smiles, which is still slightly weird for Jim to see. They congratulate him on retirement, and he points out his daughters when Pam asks after them. Melissa, newly graduated from college, stands with Nicole and Nicole's husband, who is holding Stanley's six year old grandson by the hand. Stanley's wife, Terri, comes over to give Pam a hug and to coo over the triplets, and Jim looks over all the heads in the room for someone.
Dwight fills his line of vision, and before he can say anything to Jim, Owen bursts into tears and hides his face in Jim's shirt.
All three of his children have an irrational aversion to men in glasses, and though Jim knows that it's probably because their doctor in the NICU wore glasses, a part of him hopes that a healthy mistrust of Dwight resides in their genes, a gift from Pam and Jim in their DNA.
Jim shushes his son soothingly and rubs his back to calm him down, but as soon as Dwight speaks, Owen cries again. "Jim," says Dwight, holding out his hand, which Jim shakes. "Good to see you, Dwight," he says.
"All three are yours?" Dwight asks, peering at each child and adding, "Which is the runt?"
"Nice, Dwight." Jim shakes his head. Of course nothing has changed here. Why would it?
"Well, in any size litter, there's always a runt. When our sow gave birth last year, we had three. How are Pam's mammaries holding up to the strain?" asks Dwight, and Jim quickly points toward the kitchen.
"Hey, it looks like someone's been tampering with the fire extinguisher," he says, and Dwight is gone instantly. Jim scans the room over his son's head. Time is running out.
Just then, Michael comes trotting out of his office and Jim is relieved; this is who he's been waiting for, for once. "It's Jim and Pam and the three Musketeers! No, Three Amigos! No, thr-"
Pam interrupts. "Hi Michael, you remember Evan and Owen and Audrey, right?"
Michael nods and moves behind Audrey. "Feed me, Seymour!" he bellows, moving her arms. She laughs, and Jim isn't all that surprised. Of course his newly-one-year-old gets along well with Michael, they have a lot in common.
"Wow, triplets," Michael says, stepping out from behind Pam and Audrey. "What, did you guys do it three times in one night?"
It's what Jim has been anticipating, and Pam shoots him a look of triumph. "It's been six minutes, not five!" She holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. He maneuvers Owen so that he can reach his wallet, and after extracting a crisp ten, hands it to Pam.
"Here," she says, grinning and handing him Audrey. His daughter leans into him and fits her head in the space under his chin that was obviously meant for that specific purpose, and they watch as Pam makes a show of slipping the ten into her purse.
"Your mommy's a thief," he whispers to his children, and Pam shoots him a look of indignation. "I am not! It was exactly six minutes since we walked in the door! You never said it had to be less than five minutes after Michael came in!"
Jim just laughs and looks at her mischievous, sparkling grin. Dwight might be bellowing oaths from the kitchen, and Michael might be making rude hand gestures to tell a joke, and someone (he assumes and frankly hopes it's one of his three) might have a very dirty diaper, but he thinks that there's nowhere else he would rather be.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Too Late Kev for the idea of the Halpert triplets visiting Dunder-Mifflin in her review of the original story!
