* * *
Jim settled back on his bed, shoulders against the wall and hair still wet from the shower. It had been a good pick-up game, intense enough to keep his mind off work, but relaxing all the same. He’d been getting made fun of by the guys for spending so much time with his girlfriend, though he’d be willing to bet they were relieved not to have to deal with his wound-up, pre-Pam self. Now, after a hot shower, his muscles ached pleasantly and his body felt loose, but his brain was beginning to ratchet back up to a buzz of activity.
He picked up his cell phone, and as much as he craved the sound of her voice, he wanted to clear his thoughts before he talked to her. Today had been…interesting, and it had led to all sorts of equally interesting thought processes that he hadn’t really known what to do with. He finally speed-dialed ‘1’ (‘Voicemail’ had long been demoted to ‘2’ and replaced with ‘Beesly’) and waited for Pam to pick up.
“Jim?”
“Hey, pretty girl. What are you up to?” He inadvertently looked over at the right side of the bed. Even with her gone he always took the left. It was Pam who insisted on having the right side. She simply could not fall asleep if their positions were reversed, and Jim had to make a heroic effort to keep from asking what side she slept on when she was with Roy. He had a feeling he didn’t really want to know the answer.
They’d tried switching a few times, after he’d teased her mercilessly about it, but after a night of her tossing and turning and wriggling, Jim figured out that it was in his best interests to let her sleep wherever she wanted. Not that he minded. He could probably get a good night’s rest in a chair as long as he had her soft and warm in his arms.
“Just a couple assignments and stuff. You know. Keeping busy.” She sounded distant, distracted, and Jim could tell instantly that she was upset about something.
“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” He tried to keep his tone neutral, but it still came out slightly strained.
“No, nothing! I’m fine, just a little tired, you know?” Now she sounded a little alarmed. Jim sighed. Maybe it was all those years with Roy, or maybe it was the way she’d always been, but Jim had been trying hard over the past year to break her habit of trying to hide what she felt. She’d gotten tremendously better at expressing herself and standing up for what she wanted, but there were times when he still had to gauge her moods carefully and watch for tiny details to try and figure out what was going on in her head. It drove him crazy that she tended to go silent during fights, and that there were times she still hesitated to confide in him when she was upset, as though he’d be disappointed in her.
“Hey,” he said softly. “We talked about this. It’s me, remember? I don’t care if you whine or complain or whatever. Just…just let me in, ok?” He pressed his ear to the phone, waiting for her to reply.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s stupid. I’ve just had a really bad day. It was, ugh, I don’t know, nothing seemed to go right at all. One of my art professors totally hated one of my sketches, and I’d spent so long on it, and then I found I’m not going to be able to go this art show I really wanted to check out because I have a test the day after, and the water heater’s broken, and I got salsa on my favorite white shirt and now I’m trying to redo the drawing that he hated and I have been trying for hours and I just can’t get it right!” She sniffed a little at the end, and he listened to her deep, shaky breathing awhile before answering.
“See what I mean, Beesly? You can’t keep that all pent up inside of you. Sounds like you’ve had a pretty rough day. Do you want me to come beat up your teacher?”
She laughed a little at that, more anxious release than a real laugh, but Jim would take what he could get. “I’m not sure that would make him like my artwork any better, but you’re right, I feel better just telling you about it. God Jim, I just really cannot wait till this weekend. I’ll be so glad when I can just hold you tight and not have to think about anything else. I’ve just been missing you so badly, lately.”
Jim thought he could physically feel his heart sinking into his stomach. He’d been dreading this moment all day and now he knew it was going to be even worse than what he had imagined. “Um yeah, I kinda needed to talk to you about that.” He took a deep breath to steady his voice, trying to figure out the best way to break the news. “We had a meeting with Wallace at work today, and there’s this conference in Philly this weekend that he invited me to attend, and God knows I’ve been looking forward spending some together, but with Ryan gone, this could be a really good opportunity and I swear I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He stopped and held his breath, straining to hear her response. “Pam? Pam say something, please?” He heard her inhale sharply.
“Um…,” she finally said, voice quiet and quavering. “Can you giv-” she had barely squeaked it out when he suddenly heard the dial tone. Frantically he redialed, and then again, but it went to her voicemail each time.
This couldn’t possibly be good. He should have just told Wallace 'no', should have made his excuses, but as much as it was killing him not to see her, there was a part of him that recognized a chance, an opening, and he felt the need to grab it. He wanted so much for her. He wanted to marry her and lock her away safe in a huge house where she could paint or draw or do nothing at all, whatever she wanted. He wanted to show her that he was making something of himself, that he was following her example and leaving behind years of wasted potential and maybes. He was shaken out of his reverie by the phone vibrating in his hand. He scrambled to flip it open, cursing his sweaty palms.
“Pam, are you alright? What happened? Are you crying? Please don’t cry. I’ll tell Wallace I can't go, don’t worry.”
“No!” she finally answered, louder and more vehemently than he’d expected. Pam seemed to have startled herself as well. When she continued her tone had softened, though she was still sniffing and hiccupping. “I mean, I’m sorry. I’m not really sure what came over me. I just…I just really wanted you with me –”
“I kn –”
“No wait, let me finish. I want to tell you that you should go to the conference this weekend. I mean, you’re totally right, Wallace loves you and everything’s been going so great and you should totally do this.”
“Pam, I’m not so sure...”
“Don’t say that. I know how hard you’ve been working lately. And you deserve this, Jim, you really do.” Jim could hear Fancy New Beesly take charge again as she started to sound more resolute and confident. “I’m sorry I broke down like that. I think it’d kind of been building up all day, and it was about all I could take. You could have told me you’d bought Dwight’s beet farm and I probably would have reacted the same way.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that would have been an appropriate response.”
“Hah. But Jim? You know I’m ridiculously proud of you, right? I mean, you’re so smart, and talented, and you know that I couldn’t care less if you decided you wanted to sell paper for Michael for the rest of your life, but I don’t want you to look back and regret it. You can do so much more. So much more.”
The taut emotion in her voice made his own throat close up, and Jim finally began to feel that it would all work out after all. “So,” he replied slowly, thoughtfully. “So you’re really fine with me going? Tell me the truth, ok? Because I am going to be absolutely miserable and piss Wallace off if I think you’re going to be unhappy.”
“Don’t be silly,” she chided gently. “I’ll keep myself busy, and as long as you swear to come the weekend after, I promise not to sit in my room and cry.” Her words were steady and calm, and Jim was satisfied.
“Deal. Now how’s that drawing going?”
“Ugh. Still no good. I’m beginning to understand why my teacher hated it.”
“That’s the spirit, Beesly.”
“Shut up, Halpert.”
* * *
Author's Chapter Notes:
Yikes, my chapters keep getting longer. Again, a huge thanks to reviewers. You guys totally make my day.
Chapter End Notes:
So...this chapter ended up being a little heavy on the serious stuff and a little light on the fluff and dialogue. My apologies, but I felt like it was necessary. Will you forgive me if I promise to put up something much fluffier and banter-filled really soon?
