Friday, December 21

Pam wondered if she'd ever completely understand the man she'd been living with for the past six months. Just when she thought she was sure she anticipate his every reaction to things, he'd go the complete opposite direction. Yesterday's surprise package arrival was a perfect example. It was completely unlike Jim to not take credit for his ideas, especially if they were good ones. He wasn't the type to do something as a “secret admirer” - especially not these days. Often it seemed like he made a point of telling her he'd done something for her so he could remind her how much he liked doing things for her. She knew he put a lot of effort into telling her she was loved, and valued, and special. Even though she loved being treated like that, it had taken a while to get used to. So for him to send such a personal letter and trinkets and never directly acknowledge that they were indeed from him was, well, weird. Even when she slipped the snowman charm on a chain the following morning and wore it in place of her usual necklaces, he noted it without actually taking credit for it.

Jim was washing the last juice glass out when she walked into the kitchen. Since today was the office Christmas party, she'd had an appropriate outfit picked out for weeks. However she also wanted him to notice what she was wearing around her neck, so she'd opted out of the white turtleneck she was going to wear, and instead dressed in just her new red cardigan with a black skirt, the first two button undone to best show off the necklace. She stood next to him at the kitchen counter, her head tilted up just slightly. She couldn't be more obvious that she was trying to get him to notice the necklace if she'd wrapped a neon sign around her head.

He looked over at her as he put the last plate in the drainer. “That's a nice sweater. Is it new?”

“It's the one I bought over Thanksgiving weekend when I went to the outlet mall with your mom,” she nodded. “But that's not the only thing new I'm wearing.”

Jim stepped back and gave her an exaggerated once-over, even requesting she do a twirl so he could see what else was new. “Matching red underwear?” he guessed.

“You wish,” she chuckled, tilting her head up a little higher. The gleam in his eye told her he had noticed the necklace, but was just giving her a hard time.

“Um, new earrings?”

“You gave me these for my birthday and you know it.”

Jim shrugged and leaned back against the counter. “I got nothing.”

She sighed and pulled the collar of her sweater open a little more. “Here!” She said, “Look here!”

Jim leaned over, his face comically close to her neckline. “Oh!” He replied. “Is it the necklace?”

She pushed him away in mock exasperation. “And circle gets the square.”

“Okay, Dwight.”

“What? So one time he actually gave you a funny comeback,” she teased. “I can use it, too.”

“Whatever, Dwight.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Honestly, why do I even bother talking to you?” The conversation was not going the way she'd hoped and decided to just abandon her attempt to get him to admit the charm was from him, even as they both knew damn well it was. She turned to walk into the living room when he grabbed her arm.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I'm just giving you a hard time.”

“Really? I hadn't noticed.”

“Let me see the necklace again,” he asked.

She slowly turned back around for inspection. She closed her eyes when his hand came up to her collarbone, and his finger traced the skin around the charm. She thought it was entirely unfair how such a light touch could make her knees go week, especially given how long they'd been together by now. And the fact that she was barely awake.

“Do you like it?” He asked, breaking her reverie.

“Yes, very much,” she replied, opening her eyes and smiling up at him. “And his name is Sam.”

A lopsided grin spread across his face. “Sam?”

“Yeah,” she replied, a bit defiant at his smirk. “Sam the Snowman.”

“And do you always give your necklaces names?”

“Sometimes,” she replied. “For the special ones.”

“You probably give names to all sorts of inanimate objects,” he teased.

“Oh, you're one to talk,” she retorted. “Or does Chester mean nothing to you now?”

She was referring of course to the brown and white teddy bear that still held a place of honor in Jim's old bedroom at his parents' house. She had discovered it on her first visit to meet his parents, and Jim's mother had only been too happy to regale her with the bear's history. Chester had been given to Jim as a gift from his grandmother, a souvenir of a trip she'd made to see friends in England. He'd been just over four years old at the time, and couldn't quite pronounce the whole name of the city she'd been visiting, so instead of naming the bear Manchester, it was shortened to Chester.

“Hey, you leave him out of it,” he replied. “That's different.”

“How exactly?”

“He's not made of metal, for one thing.”

“Oh, so only things cuddly can be given names?”

“Yes,” he nodded with conviction, though it was apparent he was trying very hard not to smile.

“Oh you are so full of it,” she replied. “And if you still love him so much I don't see why you don't bring him here to live.”

“Maybe I would if I thought you'd be respectful,” he teased. “You seem to take great pleasure in mocking him, and he doesn't deserve it.”

“Oh, it's not Chester I'm mocking,” she grinned, walking away from Jim to gather her shoes and coat for their departure.

“Nice,” Jim replied, turning off the kitchen light and grabbing his coat and messenger bag. “Now hurry up or we're going to be late.”

He was standing at the open door as Pam slipped her coat on and approached him. “Well his name is still Sam,” she told him, “and I like him very much.”

Their eyes met for a moment, then Jim leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. “Good,” he replied, then turned to head down to the car.

Pam spent most of the morning helping Angela and Phyllis prepare for the afternoon's party. Michael had brought in another bigger-than-needed Christmas tree earlier in the week, so that part was done, but Angela's choice of party theme meant that a significant portion of the other decorating had to be left for that day.

With all the attention the environment had been getting in the news, Angela decreed that this year's party would be focused on the natural side of Christmas. She didn't want them decorating with the usual streamers or other paper decorations, but instead with pine boughs and holly branches. She brought in poinsettia plants on Wednesday, but said she wasn't have the other pieces delivered until Friday morning, else they'd be dead and wilted before the party even started.

So while Phyllis was of tying pine garland to things in the break room, Pam found herself trying to make some sort of arrangement with the pieces of holly branches Angela had given her. But the branches were awkward and unwieldy, and the tips of the leaves very, very sharp.

“Ouch!” Pam cried for not the first time. She had been pricking her fingers repeated on the holly leaves and was quickly getting aggravated by the whole thing. She noticed that with this latest injury she had actually drawn blood so she stuck her index finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding.

“Having problems in here, Beesly?” Jim strolled into the conference room, his hands in his pockets.

Pam took her finger out of her mouth and extended it in his direction. “Oh, Angela and her damn green Christmas. These holly branches keep attacking me.”

“Ahh,” Jim said, sympathetically. “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Pam smiled at his offer but before she could reply Kevin wandered in. “Hey, what's going on?”

“Pam's being eaten alive by holly branches,” Jim informed him.

“You better be careful,” Kevin told Pam. “Those things are poisonous.”

“I think they're only poisonous if you eat it,” Jim replied. “Not if it eats you.”

“Hmmm,” Kevin said, clearly not convinced. “I'd still be careful.” He looked around the room and then took a step closer to Jim and Pam. “When is Angela going to be putting out her double chocolate brownies?” He asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

“I don't know,” Pam whispered back. “But probably not for a little while.”

“Damn,” Kevin sighed. “You'll let me know when she does though, right?”

Pam nodded solemnly. “You'll be the very first person I tell, Kev.”

“Awesome,” Kevin replied. He slowly shuffled out of the room as Pam leaned into Jim, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Oh hey,” Kevin said, leaning back into the doorway. “If this is a Christmas in Nature kind of theme, where's the mistletoe?”

“Good question,” Pam replied.

“If we're having holly we should be having mistletoe,” Kevin grumbled.

When Jim was sure Kevin was truly gone, he turned to Pam. “So where is the mistletoe, Miss Party Planning Committee member?”

“What do you think? Angela forbid it.”

“Forbid it?” Jim laughed.

“Oh yeah,” Pam nodded. “She said it would encourage lascivious behavior.”

“Maybe,” Jim mused. “But I bet Michael won't need any mistletoe to be encouraged into inappropriateness.”

“Definitely not,” Pam agreed. “But having said that, don't be fooled into thinking that there isn't some mistletoe hiding around here somewhere.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Beesly, are you holding out?”

“Well, you know how I get when I'm told I can't do something.”

“I do indeed,” he grinned.

“So when Angela told Phyllis this week that she forbid mistletoe to be at the party...”

“You ran right out and bought some,” he finished.

Pam saw Angela approaching the conference room. “Meet me by the elevator in five minutes,” she told him.

“Gotcha,” he nodded, slipping out of the room before Angela got any ideas about putting him to work.

Jim was leaning against the wall when Pam finally made it out to the hallway. “I thought you were standing me up,” he teased as she approached.

“Hardly. Angela was giving me a lesson in Holly Arranging 101.”

“Exciting.”

“You know it.”

“So what's behind your back?” he asked.

Pam had come out of the office with both hands behind her back, and her grin at his question confirmed she had been trying to hide something. “Close your eyes,” she requested.

He stood up straight and did as she asked. “If this is a pie in the face you are going to be in so much trouble,” he warned her.

“Dork,” she said affectionately. A beat later she said, “Okay, open your eyes.”

When he did he was greeting to the sight of Pam holding a small mistletoe ball over her head, extending from a red velvet ribbon. She looked up at him with a mix of mischievousness and expectancy. “Merry Christmas, Jim,” she said.

He leaned down and kissed her, his hands coming up to cup her face. “Merry Christmas, Pam,” he whispered before he kissed her again.

It wasn't very long before Pam dropped her arm from over her head and instead wrapped it around Jim's shoulders, pulling him closer. Part of her knew they shouldn't be standing in the open hallway kissing like that, but the other part didn't really care. It was Christmas, and it was turning out to be the kind of Christmas she'd dreamt of for a long, long time.

They were still wrapped up in each other when the ding of the elevator was heard, and even when the elevator doors opened. They were oblivious to the presence of another person until that person cleared their throat loudly. They broke apart to find Parma standing before them.

“Oh hey,” Pam said, taking a step back from Jim. “Hi, Parma.”

“So is this what you guys do all day at work?” Parma teased.

“Usually,” Jim grinned.

Pam elbowed him. “Is not.”

“I need to get a job like that,” Parma replied.

“So what brings you here?” Pam asked, though the answer was obvious from the envelope in Parma's hands.

“You know, just in the neighborhood, thought I'd run up and say hello,” she replied. “Oh, and give you this.” She handed the large padded envelope to Pam.

“Another one?” Pam asked.

“Another one.” Parma nodded. “And don't tell me you're surprised.”

Pam glanced up at Jim, who's face was remarkably expressionless. “No, I guess not. I just hadn't thought about with the craziness of the morning.”

“Why? What's happened?” Parma asked.

“Angela and her Christmas party,” Pam said.

“Ah,” Parma replied. “Say no more. I've heard that story before.”

“You should stay and live it though,” Jim suggested. “It's so much better in person.”

“I'll bet,” Parma laughed. “No thanks. We're still on for tomorrow though, right Pam?”

“You bet.”

Parma pressed the down button to call the elevator. “Good. I'll be by with the dresses tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime.” The elevator doors opened and Parma stepped inside. “I'll give you a call before I head over,” she called as the doors shut.

“Dresses?” Jim asked.

“For New Year's Eve.” His blank stare was his only response so she continued. “We're going out with Parma and a few other people this year, remember?”

“I thought we were going to Kevin's again.”

“I don't think Kevin is having a party this year. He said something about Stacey not wanting to clean it all up the next day.”

“Ah, okay. But we aren't doing anything too fancy, are we?”

“No, just some dinner and dancing.” She looked up at him. “I'm sure I told you about this. I wouldn't have made arrangement without you.”

“Oh, you probably did,” he replied, resting his hand on her shoulder. “I've been distracted by things lately. Whatever you want to do I'm sure will be great.” He took the opportunity to give her another quick kiss. “But what's wrong with the dresses you currently have?”

“Parma says she's seen my wardrobe and I don't have anything festive.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Jim mused. “That little satiny pink number you have always puts me in a party mood.”

Pam giggled and hit him playfully. “I think that outfit's just a little TOO festive, don't you? Plus I'm sure it's highly inappropriate for this winter weather.”

“Exactly.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed again. She looked down at the envelope in her hands and glanced back up at Jim. “Come on,” she said, moving toward the stairwell door.

“Where are we going now?”

“I want to open this before Angela comes hunting for me.”

She opened the stairwell door and turned to see that Jim wasn't following. “What's wrong?” She asked.

“I'm thinking it's going to be too obvious if we both are missing. Why don't I go back so I can keep Angela distracted if she's looking for you?”

Pam frowned slightly at his response. “Don't you want to see what's inside?”

“Sure I do. But you can show me later.”

“But who could it be from?” She teased.

Jim threw up his hands. “Could be from anyone,” he replied, a smirk appearing. “See you in a bit.” He turned and walked back into the office before she could think of anything more to say.

Sighing, she walked back down the stairs and sat in the same place she'd opened yesterday's letter. She set the mistletoe down, then tore open the red strip across the envelope's flap and gently coaxed the contents out onto the landing next to her. The package had felt a bit bulky, and she soon saw why. There was a menagerie of trinkets: a fridge magnet from Phyllis' wedding, two small Care Bear valentines – the kind elementary school student exchange, a folded catering menu from Angelina's, two corks, a thin, flat something wrapped in red and white striped paper, and another ivory envelope that Pam felt sure contained another letter, and, she hoped, maybe another charm.

She smiled as she held each item in her hands. Given the nature of yesterday's gift she already expected a February theme to today's package, but she was still a bit overwhelmed by all the little things he'd included from that month. It had truly been a special month for them. She unwrapped the striped gift to find a thin children's art book: Make it Pop!: Activities and Adventures in Pop Art, and she laughed out loud.

Of all the people who had attended her first art show that month, Oscar's boyfriend Gil was the only one who didn't seem to have anything good to say about her work, though he hadn't said anything directly to her. She had stepped outside the hot gallery to get some air with Jim when they overheard Gil talking to Oscar. He said that while he hadn't expected much from Pam's first show, he could still tell she was not heading toward a life as a great artist. Oscar scolded him for being so harsh, and Gil had flippantly replied that maybe if she worked hard enough she could maybe – just maybe! - manage to fall into a career in Pop Art for middle America.

She had at first been terribly crushed by Gil's criticism, but Jim's tirade on the extensive list of Gil's faults soon had her laughing it all off. She came into work the next day to find Jim had sent her an email listing link after link of the importance of Pop Art and the artists associated with the genre, with Warhol and Lichtenstein topping the list. His ability to turn criticism into a compliment made her fall just that much more in love with him.

Still smiling at the memory, she carefully opened the ivory envelope to find a letter even longer than the last.

Dear Pam,

For a month that has the least amount of days, we certainly made the most of it. February was even more fantastic than January, due in no small part to the amount of time I spent with you. A single day did not go by without being around you, and most days that meant the full twenty-four hours. I have to admit I wondered how long it might be before we grew tired of seeing each other all the time (and I mean ALL THE TIME!), but it never happened. At least, it never did for me – even now. I hope you aren't getting fed up of me yet, because I'm still waiting for the boredom to set in. I'm still waiting for the day I wake up and think “Man, Pam again?” Somehow I just don't see it happening, Beesly. So it looks like you might just be stuck with me.

One of my favorite memories of February was walking into the church with you at Phyllis and Bob's (Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration) wedding. You looked so beautiful that day, and I was so proud to be seen next to you. I have to admit that I had been looking forward going to the wedding with you – I knew it was going to be the first time I'd ever had the chance to dance with you. And though we both know I'm not exactly Fred Astaire, the idea of holding you in public like that was one I enjoyed greatly.

That's not saying it was the perfect night – I think we both know that it was far from that. You seemed surprised that I recognized so many of the pieces of the wedding had been taken right from your plans with Roy, but seriously – how could I not have noticed? As much as I hate to admit it, I probably knew the details of your (thankfully aborted) wedding to Roy nearly as well as you did. I watched you plan it every work day those last three months, and I learned to hate every bit of it. So while I know how weird it was for you to see that all playing out, it felt kinda weird to me too. I don't know - maybe that's why I stuck so close to you for most of the night.

And then there was that incident with Roy. Looking back, I agree it was a stupid idea to say what I did to him. But can you really blame me? He had been giving me dirty looks from the minute we arrived for the ceremony, and I know as soon as he hit the reception he headed straight for the bar and stayed there. Granted, knowing he was drunk should have made his actions bother me less. But instead they bothered me more. I am still sorry if I embarrassed you that night; it really wasn't my intention. But keep in mind my viewpoint – I go off to the restroom and return to find that not only did he pay Kevin twenty bucks to play “your song” but then he insisted you dance with him through it.

And maybe if it had just been that, I could have let it go. I knew he still wasn't over you – he'd made that clear enough every time he found ways to come up to the office. But when he asked you to take a walk with him, and then kept asking even after you politely said no several times, well – what did you expect me to say? It shouldn't be a surprise to you that I have hard time being civil to him at the best of times. But yeah, telling him you didn't belong to him anymore and he should just go away and grow up probably wasn't my best choice of words. Especially since I'm sure you remember exactly what I did say. At least it was in the parking lot where most of the wedding guests couldn't hear us.

Anyway, I've spent way too much time talking about the negatives – that night overall was amazing, and I'd live through all of it again if given the chance. You were so beautiful and I'm glad Kelly insisted on taking your picture that night.

But expect one of your clearest memories of February centers on that little holiday that falls about mid-month that we both used to hate with a passion – you because of how unappreciated you were by some clueless oaf who shall remain nameless, and me because I wanted to be the clueless oaf who WOULD appreciate you. (See how I did that? I'm so clever.)

So I guess I kinda overdid it, didn't I? I tried – I really did! - not to try and cram six years of belated Valentines into one holiday, but I simply couldn't resist. The flowers that arrived on the date had been planned probably since the day I realized you really wanted to be with me. Then a comment you made about week before the day (the one where you said you were glad Phyllis was on her honeymoon so you didn't have to spend the day delivering gifts to her) gave me the idea that perhaps under all the complaining about Phyllis was someone who wouldn't mind getting a few too many presents herself. Not that I'm implying you're greedy.....just go back to the last paragraph where I mention how under appreciated you used to be. (Emphasis on USED TO BE.)

Then the idea steamrolled. Maybe flowers sent to work and home was a bit much, but I would do it again just to see that look on your face. The dinner and the wine and the extra wine at home made it the best Valentine's Day I could ever imagine. And as for the scavenger hunt, once I opened the box of Care Bear valentines, I had to do something with all of them! I'm still not entirely convinced there aren't still cards lurking in your belongings. The box said 30, not 26.

I know you laughed and called me crazy, but I also knew you loved it. And most importantly, you knew that I loved you. Just like I always had, and just like I always will.

And if I was proud to be seen with you at Phyllis' wedding, which I was, it was nothing compared to how I felt the night of your first art show. I remember how nervous you were, but all I could see was how far you'd come from the girl who thought the Dunder Mifflin graphic design internship was beyond her reach. I don't know enough about the workings of art to agree or disagree with your technical assessments, but I do know that work like that just changes you. Not a lot, but enough that even I can see that it's what you should be doing as much as possible. I want you to know that I'll always do whatever I can to help you with that. It would be a shame to waste your talents.

And by the way, Gil is still an ass.

God, I honestly didn't mean to write this much – I told you we did a lot in February! I hope this letter and these items remind you of what a good time we had that month.

Love,

Jim

She next opened the tiny package that was with the letter. She smiled as she unwrapped another charm, this one almost bringing tears to her eyes. It was a tiny artist's palette, the paints represented by glistening enameled colors. She held it tightly in her hand as she composed herself to go back to work. She gathered all the little mementos and put them back into the large envelope, but at the last minute she took the charm out again. She unhooked her necklace and slide the new charm on the chain next to the snowman. She put it back on, grabbed her envelope and stood up. She would make sure that Jim noticed what she was now wearing, and she would also make sure that the mistletoe ball got put to very good use.