If it was possible, and I hadn't thought it was, Pam glowed even brighter as she sat next to Jim at dinner. I watched her, and I knew her happiness was genuine. It was more than happiness; it was near euphoria, and I knew she was still flying high with it. Maybe too high.
So now, it was Jim's turn to be observed. Unfortunately, I had to do that in front of my husband, who knew darn well what I was up to. I'd have to hear about that for a long time, and I knew it was possible that my observation of Pam and Jim would be the source of his nickname for this year's Thanksgiving. He liked to copy the titles from "Friends", and he thought it was really, really funny: "The One Where My Uncle Joe Gets Drunk and Pees On a Bush In Front Of My Mother" and "The One Where We Meet Jo" and "The One Without Roy" (which he subtitled, "A Narrow Miss", but that's a story for another time).
".....So Michael is in a straightjacket, and the key is on the floor because it's fallen out of his mouth...." Jim was saying. Sometimes I can't believe these stories are real, but I know they are, and I know that's a good part of the reason that my daughter's entire worklife has been documented by a camera crew for the last three years. But that is a whole OTHER story (and worry) for another day. One thing at a time. ".....and I just, casually, put my foot over the key." Everyone is in stitches. It's funny, but Jim can make something that's funny much more so just by his expressions. I've never seen a more expressive face, especially not on a man. "You should have seen him working up a sweat in that straightjacket."
"Who finally let him out?" Jo asked.
Jim turned to Pam, and I saw that his eyes softened and lit up at the same time. "Pam, of course. Michael has annoyed and distracted her for years, but she's got a soft spot for him, deep down."
Pam smiled. "Well, he was so miserable and embarrassed. He spends a lot of his time that way, I think. No need to extend it for longer than necessary, after we got the first few chuckles out it."
That was my Pam.
But then she went on, and this was my New Pam. "Speaking of embarrassed, why don't you tell my parents about your Irish brogue, Jim?" She smiled, but Jim's face fell. She didn't even see it, but I did.
"Yeah, well, it was a special invitation." I learned a lot about Jim from the way he was willing to go on with this, though it so obviously pained him. "And The Finer Things Club is very exclusive." There was a little sarcasm on the word "exclusive", which Pam must have caught. She lowered her head for just a second. Jim didn't let her hang for long though. He lit into the story of the Irish caps and the bowties and the china, and mentioned Pam's babushka.
My husband was in no way going to let that go. He looked at her incredulously. "You were wearing a babushka, Pam? Like, a head scarf?"
He turned to me, laughing, but spoke under his breath. "This is officially 'The One With the Babushka'".
She was looking a little defensive. "Well, Dad, they're themed meals, like Jim said." She continued, a little more heatedly. "Our job can be so monotonous. I mean really, there's only so many games of solitaire you can play in a day." She took a breath. "The Finer Things Club breaks it up, it gives me something to look forward to." She looked sidelong at Jim, who was staring at his plate, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Come on Pam, I thought....say it. Say it. Say it to Jim, in front of us......
"Next month it's going to be Pride and Prejudice. The guys aren't all that happy about that one, but I've been campaigning for that book for months now."
No. No, my dear daughter. Not that.
It was time to yank off that bandaid.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm nervous about this one, though we have seen glimpses of this Pam in recent episodes. As dearly as I love her, she is not perfect.
