The date was a disaster—for everyone except Pam, that is. Pam knew Lombardi’s was Jim’s favorite pizza place, but he barely touched his plate. He refused to participate in the conversation around the table, and instead spent most of the evening shooting deathly glares at Theo, who got more uncomfortable with each passing minute. In contrast, he barely looked at Amy.
Pam realized how much was missing when Jim wasn’t involved in the conversation. Theo tried to diffuse the situation with his supposedly hilarious stories, but he didn’t get much of a reaction from Pam, who had been bored the first time she had heard them earlier in the evening. Jim was in no mood to laugh, and Amy overcompensated by laughing too loudly. Pretty soon, the conversation petered out, and Amy was left desperately trying to find some common ground between Pam and Theo.
All in all, it was one of the most uncomfortable dinners Pam had ever attended. The tension between Amy and Jim was palpable. Usually when she arrived home from a bad date, she was filled with questions about whether she had made the right decision leaving Roy, but tonight, she was strangely content. Despite the fact that it had, empirically, been one of the worst dates of her life, something about the look that Jim gave Amy as they were getting into the cab gave her hope.
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“Hello?”
“Hey, its me.” He liked the fact that he could say that now, and she would know just who it was.
“Oh, hey.” Sniffle.
“Pam, you sound awful. Have a cold?”
“Guess so. Can’t breed. Head hurds.” There was a deep sigh on the other line, followed by a round of deep coughs.
“So, I guess you’re not up for going to a movie?”
“I’ve god snod dribbing oud of my node.”
“Good point. Don’t want to disturb anyone. Do you need anything? Like tissues or cough drops?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sound like death. How about I just come over and check on you?”
“No, really, I’m fide.”
“Too bad. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”
He hung up the phone and looked at his watch. Amy had gone to work an hour ago, and he had the rest of the day free. He couldn’t let a friend suffer alone, right?
He made a quick stop, and was at her door in a flash. It took her a few minutes to buzz him in, and when she opened the door, he could see why. She looked worse than she sounded on the phone—her skin was pale, her nose was red from constant blowing, she had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she was wrapped up in an old ratty bathrobe.
“Whad are you looking ad?”
He had to laugh. “Pam, we’re friends, right? Does that mean I can say that you look horrible, and you can’t hit me?”
Evidently not. She was a cranky patient.
“Alright, alright, I deserved that. Never make fun a contagious person.”
“Mmph,” was the only response he got from Pam, who was already crawling back into bed, under that soft indigo comforter.
“Well, hopefully I can redeem myself,” he said, holding up a bag of goodiesfrom the drugstore, “but first, when’s the last time Tank’s been out?” The dog was wagging his tail furiously at Jim’s feet.
She had perked up a bit when she saw the bag. “Tissueds?”
“Yes, little Ms. I don’t need anything, I brought you some tissues, along with some other presents. But I think your dog’s bladder might burst soon. I’ll be back in two minutes.” He grabbed Frank’s leash and Pam’s keys from her bookshelf, and ran down to the sidewalk with the grateful dog. He realized that having a dog while you were stuck in bed must be a huge pain. He loved the furry gray mutt, and decided he would offer to take him off her hands for a few days. It’s the least he could do for a friend.
After a quick jaunt around the block, and let himself back into her apartment. In the ten minutes he was gone, Pam had dozed off to sleep. He quietly started to make her some tea, but Frank jumped up onto the bed and woke her up. She looked up at him with half-focused eyes, the confusion obvious in her face.
“Hey Pam. I’m just making you some tea, okay?”
“Oh . . . yeah.” It took her a moment, but she finally put things into place. “Thanks for walking Frank.”
“No problem.” He brought her a cup of tea, and briefly sat down on the edge of her bed while he handed her the hot mug. “Ready for the rest of your drugstore presents?”
She smiled and nodded, and he thought he finally began to see a light gleaming in her eye. He stood up again, and reached for the bag he had brought in earlier.
“Okay, first, the famous tissues,” he said, holding up a large box. She gave a small laugh, and grabbed the box right out of Jim’s hands. She immediately ripped it open and started blowing her nose.
“Sorry,” she said, a blush creeping up her neck. “I ran out. I really needed a new box.”
“Obviously. Who knew how grabby you were? Next, cough drops and Sudafed. Great stuff.” He immediately threw them at her and drew back, with mock fear. “Don’t hurt me!”
“Ha ha.”
He held up five rented DVDs. “And the finale, and guaranteed cure for any ailment, a Christopher Guest movie marathon.”
Pam’s eyes finally lit up, and she almost spilled her tea with excitement. “Really?”
“Yup, your favorites. I’ve got ‘Spinal Tap,’ ‘Waiting for Guffman,’ ‘A Mighty Wind,’ ‘Best in Show,’ and ‘For Your Consideration.’ What do you want to start with?”
“Spinal Tab.”
“Absolutely. ‘For Your Consideration’ might be my favorite, but you just can’t beat ‘these go to eleven.’ Pure genius.” The TV was already pointed towards the bed, so he popped the movie into the DVD player, and before he realized what he was doing, he sat down on the foot of her bed. The thought suddenly occurred to him that he had invited himself over to begin with, and then simply assumed she would want the company.
“Hey, I’m sorry, would you rather that I leave?”
“Whad? No, no, I wand you to stay.” She was cuddled into a small ball, covered by her fluffy bedspread and fluffier dog. She looked up at him, and despite her runny nose, something about her gaze made him want nothing more than to sink into that warm bed with her.
“If you go, who will make me more tea?” She smiled again, and despite several warning bells going off in his head, he knew he would stay as long as she would have him. “Here, I’ll move over. You can’t really see from down there.”
She scooted back against the wall, leaving plenty of room for Jim next to her. He moved up to the head of the bed, trying to figure out the best way to deal with the situation. He didn’t trust himself to lie down next to her, so he decided to sit up against the headboard, but allowed himself stretch his long legs out next to her. It was a good compromise for the warring factions within him.
Pam propped her head up on several pillows so that she could see the TV over Jim’s chest, but she quickly fell asleep.
Jim tried to pay attention to the movie, but his thoughts constantly turned to the woman sleeping next to him. She was beautiful. Even a ratty old bathrobe couldn't disguise that fact. He had never seen her sleeping before, and he realized that he could get used to the sight. Maybe it was the Sudafed, but she seemed to sleep with such peace, despite a sniffle every now and then. Jim knew he was a poor bedmate—a snorer, a kicker, and a bed hog. In contrast, she seemed so content, and even had a small smile on her lips. He wondered what she was dreaming about. Fora moment, before he forced himself to bury the thought deep down where it had been living for many years, wondered if maybe she had been dreaming about him.
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After the movie ended, he forced himself to leave. Being in such close proximity to her had been a painful mixture of heaven and hell.He had gotten over her long ago, he honestely knew that. But that fact didn't mean that something new couldn't surface. Thoughts of their days back at Dunder-Mifflin weren't what made him lie awake with an aching heart--it was the memory of her victorious dance when they finally beat the Ligers in Pictionary, and the sight of her bounding across the park with Frank during a spirited game of frisbee. He knew he was starting to slide down a slipperly slope, and he was tired of fighting it.
But part of him insisted on the fight. He couldn't forget about Amy. The time with Pam today had done nothing but add to his confusion, and he knew he couldn't be there when she woke up. He wrote her a quick note, explaining that he would watch Frank for a day or two, until she felt up to taking care of him. He grabbed the dog’s leash and a small bag of food, and with a quick look back at her curled up in bed, he headed home.
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He couldn’t have known what trouble the dog would be. It wasn’t Frank’s fault—he was the perfect houseguest, but the seemingly innocent act of helping out a friend in need did not sit well with Amy when she stopped by Jim’s house and saw Jim cuddled up with the shaggy dog, watching football.
“I just don’t understand why she asked you to take care of her dog.” Amy’s tone of voice made it very clear that their fight was not about the dog.
Jim was exasperated. He had been trying to explain the situation for the last twenty minutes. “She is a friend and needed some help. She didn’t ask me to do it—she wasn’t even awake when I left with him.”
Amy’s eyes narrowed a bit. “So she was sleeping? How long were you over there for?”
“We watched a movie. Is that a problem?” His voice was serious. He was challenging her. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he was pushing the issue farther than it needed to be pushed.
“No. You’re just friends, right?”
Jim suddenly heard a hint of desperation in her voice. He immediately regretted using such a harsh tone with her. “Of course,” he said, softly this time. “Just old friends.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She stepped close to him, and rested her head on his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her as she quietlyrepeated, “I’m sorry.”
They had had this conversation several times before, and Jim had always given the same answer. This time, however, a new feeling was rising in the pit of his stomach. This time, he knew he was lying.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali
© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali