“Hiya Pumpkin,” greeted the old man sitting on the stoop of the front entrance to the rowhouse. The woman going up the stairs stopped abruptly and began reprimanding him.
“Creed! I thought I referred you to the church on Spring Street!”
“Kicked me out. That place has too many rules, man…”
The woman arched an eyebrow and glared at him, “Rules…?”
Creed shrugged, “I was just having a little orgy in the sleeping quarters—“
“That’s all I need to hear!” the small woman disgustedly turned and was halfway up the stairs when Pam came back from getting a gallon of milk from the market up the street.
She caught Creed’s eye, “Hey there, Curly. Can ya spare a dime for an old man?”
Pam began digging through her purse when the woman in front of her, who was just inside the building, intervened, “He doesn’t need your money! He’s been kicked out of every homeless shelter in Philadelphia and refuses any kind of real help.”
Pam and Creed exchanged a look, his eyes pleading with her to give him something, and so she finally forked over a five-dollar bill. “Much obliged, sweetie,” he told her and went on his way down the street. The woman scoffed and closed the front door in Pam’s face, forcing her to get out her key and reopen it, even though she was standing right there getting her mail.
“Um, I don’t think we’ve met—“ Pam said as she got into the building.
“Obviously not,” the woman sneered.
“I’m Pam, I just moved into 3B… and I swear I’ll just send that guy on his way next time…”
The woman sighed and turned to face Pam, “I’m Angela. I live in 2A.”
“Nice to meet you,” Pam offered, but it really wasn’t. This was exactly the kind of person Pam expected to be living with—the snobby, tightly wound, frigid sort of woman who wore muted colors and buttoned-up collars. Frankly, she almost smiled when Angela held up the stereotype. They went up the steps and cordially parted ways at the second floor, and Pam continued upward, feeling butterflies in her stomach.
The last few days had been much better than she anticipated, and most of it was because of Jim. He had even helped her unpack some—once he had peeked into her apartment and saw the volume of boxes left yet to be unloaded. And they were going out the next day. Not on a date—she and Roy had made amends from earlier in the week and were still together—but she was still excited to spend time with Jim and learn more about him.
She hoped she would see him in the hallway when she got in, but she didn’t. As she approached the door to her apartment she let out a heavy sigh, and instead decided to invite Roy over to watch TV and eat takeout.
… … …
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Jim heard Pam’s voice coming from the hallway as he climbed the stairs. He assumed she was probably talking to that boyfriend of hers, and he frowned at the thought of it.
“Sorry Pammy, I have to get to the demolition site early tomorrow morning. I need some sleep.”
“Alright…” Pam sighed, sounding disappointed.
“Bye babe,” her boyfriend said sweetly. Jim rolled his eyes, and knew he’d pass this guy in the hallway and have to put on his friendly face. He got to the top of the steps and saw them kissing outside her doorway, which made him grimace a bit.
Pam broke their kiss as soon as she saw him coming down the hallway, and her face immediately brightened, “Oh! Hey, Jim! This is Roy, my—“
“Holy crap!” Roy turned and interrupted Pam’s introductions. She was more than a little confused by Roy’s astonishment. “Philly Jim!”
Jim chuckled, embarrassed, and looked down at his shoes. Great, he thought, her boyfriend was a fan. “Yeah…”
“Pam! This is—! Do you know who this is?”
Pam looked from one man to the other as Roy continued to gawk, and came up with the best answer she could, “Uh… my neighbor?”
“This is the guy,” Roy explained as he put an arm around Jim’s tensed shoulders, “who is saving Philadelphia sports right now. This is the man who will end the curse! And when he does, we’re gonna tear down ol’ Billy and put a statue up of this guy!” It took him a moment for his star-struck disposition to wear off, and for him to realize, “And you live here, man!”
Jim nodded his head, “Yep.”
“Oh man! This is insane. I can’t wait to tell Darryl!” Roy exclaimed as Pam and Jim exchanged a glance, both uncomfortable, but for different reasons. Roy began to get out his phone and quickly gave Pam a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later sweetie—Hey man. You are not going to believe this…” he said into the receiver as he walked down the hallway and stairs, leaving the two in an awkward silence.
Pam gave him a skeptical look, “So when you said you wrote for The Philadelphia Inquirer…”
“I never said what section,” Jim told her defensively, yet with a grin. He was glad to see her return a smile, and thought she couldn’t be too upset with him. But not wanting to push his luck, he quickly changed the subject, “How about I tell you all about it tomorrow. We’re still on for a day of discovering Rittenhouse, right?”
“Absolutely,” Pam beamed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach again. Little did she know, Jim had the same sensation in his stomach. They said their goodnights and went inside their apartments, both feeling anxious about the day to come.
… … …
“Ready to go?” Jim asked as they met in the third floor hallway the next morning. He had a whole day planned for her, starting her off with brunch at one of his favorite bistros and dragging her all around town from there. She had no idea what she was in for.
“Yep! Let’s do it,” Pam smiled, and they made their way down the stairs and out into the warm spring air. “So where to first?” she asked, practically skipping down the sidewalk.
“It’s called The Happy Rooster. It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it. They serve the best brunch.”
They walked for a while until they got to the restaurant, which had a huge line outside, but several of the people in line recognized the lucky sports writer and let them cut to the front. He refused at first, but with enough badgering, eventually accepted their offers, and they got a table in no time. Pam thought she could get used to hanging out with someone with celebrity status, and made sure to soak up all the attention she got from other customers.
She fumbled a bit when he asked her what she was looking at on the menu, worried over the prices. He noticed her hesitation though, and quickly told her that all the meals today were his treat, and so she should feel free to order whatever she wanted. With her doubts put to rest, she decided to be fancy and order herself a mimosa and their signature French toast. Jim ordered a custom omelet.
“So how does it feel to be a Philly icon?” Pam asked coyly as she sipped her drink.
Jim laughed, “It’s a little embarrassing. Sometimes I wish I just still blended in and didn’t have random people coming up to me to ask me to high-five them or something. The worst is when people shout out my name on the street—“
“Frat boy style?” Pam asked, quietly imitating an annoying fan, “Woo!!”
“Exactly. I mean, the perks are great, but the pressure is intense. Like, sure, they’re praising me now, but if something goes wrong…”
“Huh. I never thought of it that way.” Pam empathized. She gave him a soft smile just as their food arrived, and then added, “Maybe you are lucky though, and things will turn out great.”
Jim smiled thoughtfully at her as she poured syrup on her French toast, and replied softly, “Yeah, maybe…”
… … …
“Here we are,” Jim said as they went into a shop called Town Home. “A friend of mine works here. The stuff is a little on the expensive side, but it’s good quality.”
Pam made a beeline for some knickknacks, picked one up randomly, and said in a jokingly arrogant tone, “Oh yes, this would look lovely in the drawing room!” They laughed and walked around until they found Andy, Jim’s friend, arranging some shelves.
“Hey Tuna, how’s it hangin’?” Andy asked as they bumped fists and he made a small accompanying explosion sound. Jim looked thoroughly embarrassed as Andy noticed Pam standing next to him. “Hello, my fair lady. I am Andrew Bernard, home furnishings salesman extraordinaire… and alumnus of Cornell University. Ya ever heard of it?” Pam was unsure if she should answer him, but luckily he started talking again before the silence became too awkward. “How is it that you know the Tuna?”
“Tuna…?” Pam asked and looked up at Jim, who was rolling his eyes.
“We met in college, when he was visiting UPenn,” Jim explained. “He knew my roommate from high school, and was crashing at our place for the weekend… and I was eating a tuna sandwich when we met.” Pam nodded knowingly as he then addressed Andy, “Pam lives across the hall from me.”
“Sweet. That’s a nice place, isn’t it? Except for some of the hobo spill-over from the park.” Pam laughed inwardly as she was reminded of Creed, and then tuned back in as Andy went on, “Well, please let me know if you need anything. Since you are a friend of Tuna’s, I can get you a pretty awesome discount. Just let me know when you’re ready to check out.”
Thanking him, they continued their way around the store. Pam loved all the unique items this shop had to offer, but finally settled on buying a set of coasters and a few scented candles. Andy gave her a hefty discount, which she was grateful for, and then they said their farewells. Pam made her way outside while Jim hung back, making sure their poker game was still on for Tuesday night. Andy ecstatically replied affirmatively, and they pounded fists before Jim walked out of the store.
“He was nice,” Pam commented as they left.
“He’s crazy,” Jim countered, knowing she was just being polite, and they both laughed at the truth. “I mean, he could be doing a lot with his degree and he chooses to work in retail… I don’t get it, but hey, he’s a good guy—and he sucks at poker—so we keep him around.”
Pam watched his lopsided smile fade as he stared at the sidewalk, and she couldn’t help but shudder a little. She felt butterflies all over now. She still had a hard time believing he would willingly devote his whole day to showing her around; never before had any guy shown such an interest in her, not even Roy. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was just nice with everyone or if she was a special case…
She secretly hoped it was the latter.
… … …
“And we end our visit,” Jim said in his tour guide voice, “of rustic Rittenhouse Square, with my favorite bar in the whole wide world, Monk’s Café.” He held the door open for Pam as she stepped in to a dimly lit bar that had tables set up along one of the walls. A hostess seated them near the back, and soon enough a waitress was there to take their orders.
The redhead sprung herself upon them and tousled Jim’s hair a bit, making him blush. “Heya sweetcheeks, how’s it goin’?” she asked in a teasing tone.
“Hey Meredith. Just fine, thanks. How about yourself?” he replied warmly as he smoothed his hair back down.
“Oh, you know, I’m doing great, Jakey’s doing great… I’m still seeing that guy, Gary Trundell? You remember him, he was a bartender here for a while until he threw a chair into the wall… So don’t you try any funny business with me!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of—“
“Cause he’ll kick the crap out of you!” Meredith laughed at her joke as Jim stared at the tabletop, wide-eyed. “Don’t worry hon,” she addressed Pam, “He’s the nicest guy you’ll find on this side of the Delaware River.” She winked at her knowingly, and this time it was Pam’s turn to blush. “So what can I get you two?”
“We are going to split a basket of Spanish flies—”
“Flies?” Pam asked in a skeptical tone.
“It’s just chicken wings,” Meredith put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a pat.
“And a pitcher of the house ale,” Jim told her as he snatched up Pam’s menu and told her with his expression, trust me. She bit her lip and nodded her head, and soon enough Meredith was back with a pitcher of beer. He poured her a glass and proposed a toast: “To, uh… new discoveries.”
Pam smiled as they clinked their glasses together and drank up. She puckered at the taste, “That’s… really malty.”
“This?” Jim asked in disbelief. “No, no, no, if you want malty, try the Scaldis.” She raised an eyebrow at him, taunting him at the fact that he obviously was somewhat of a beer snob, and he just shook his head and assured her, “You just wait, Beesly. Those chicken wings are gonna be hot, and you’ll be glad I got us a pitcher of this stuff.”
“Alright, I trust you…” Pam said, and then added a teasing, “I guess…”
“Good,” Jim laughed, and their conversation fell silent. He knitted his brows together in concentration and looked straight at her, “So, can I ask you something?”
His looked made her heart jump. She nodded, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
Jim looked down and focused on the condensation forming on his glass. Taking a breath, he looked up at her, “I really don’t want this to sound disrespectful or anything, cause I don’t know the guy, but, Roy just seems… kind of…”
“Inconsiderate?” she finished his sentence for him.
“Inconsiderate is… such a harsh word…”
Pam laughed, “No, it’s okay. I know he’s not a perfect guy. I mean, when our waitress—”
“Meredith—”
“—was talking about her boyfriend who threw a chair into the wall, it kind of reminded me of him.”
Jim’s eyebrows shot up and asked concernedly, “What! Really?”
“Yeah. One time we were at a bar, and he got really mad at me for some stupid reason, and threw a shot glass against the bar wall and shattered a mirror.” She paused for a moment to take in his stunned reaction, and then decided to play it off as something that wasn’t a big deal. “But it was just a one time thing. He’s never done anything like that before, and hasn’t ever since… I mean, he’ll get angry, but never violent.”
The conversation lulled into silence until Jim spoke up, his tone full of apprehension, “Yeah I guess… but still—”
“Jim, really, don’t worry. I’ve been with him on and off again for five years. I know how to deal with him when he gets upset.”
“Five years?”
Pam chuckled, trying to ease the tension, “Yeah. We’ve known each other since high school, but he was always way too cool for me. Jock type, you know.” Jim nodded. “Anyway, turns out a college degree ends up being much cooler than being on the football team years ago, because when I moved back here to start job hunting, he noticed me at the local hangouts in Kensington and we just kinda started dating… Then, we broke up. Then we started dating again. And then we did all that a couple more times. He’s a decent guy though…”
She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and couldn’t help biting her tongue. It was the way she phrased her last sentence that brought it on, how she said he was ‘decent’. Decent compared to the one sitting across the table from her, she almost let herself think. She didn’t want to continue on that train of thought, and so she took a sip of her beer to calm her nerves.
“Well at least he’s loyal,” Jim offered, trying to see Roy’s good side. “I mean, I’ve had a few long-term relationships, but they always seem to fall apart. My most recent ex, Karen, broke up with me because I wouldn’t move with her to New York when she got a promotion. Keep in mind this was after the whole ‘me being lucky’ thing got started—“
“Yeah, that’s pretty lame,” Pam agreed. “I mean, didn’t she realize how important you were to everyone here?”
“Didn’t she realize I would have to start writing about the Knicks?” Jim made a disgusted noise and Pam laughed at him, just as Meredith brought out their food. “Nah, but I could tell that relationship wasn’t going anywhere. She was always bugging me about telling her all my thoughts and feelings, and I just think if you’re really with who you’re meant to be with, you should just be able to pick up on how they feel, ya know?”
Pam nodded her head, “Mmhmm, like a person’s body language and stuff.”
“Eighty percent of what you say doesn’t come out of your mouth.”
“Really? Where does it come out of?”
Jim shook his head at her, trying to stifle a grin, and finally decided to throw a French fry at her. “Dork,” he muttered as the fry landed on the table. Pam picked it up, a huge smile on her face, and she chomped down on it triumphantly.
… … …
They stood awkwardly at their doors, both a little tipsy from the beer, and smiled at each other. Neither one really wanted to say goodnight and have the day end.
“This was really fun. Thank you,” Pam told him shyly.
“Yeah, it was really great…” He paused and then thought for a moment, “Hey… so I’ve been thinking about this prank I want to pull on Dwight, and I figured I could use a… a partner in crime. Do you want to help me with it?”
She bit her lip and steadied herself against her doorframe, “Yeah, I think that would be really cool.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” She let her eyes glaze over as she stared at him. She wasn’t sure she could ask for a better neighbor.
“What?” he asked inquisitively as he returned her gaze.
“Nothing.”
“Okay.”
“Okay… Goodnight,” she made a small wave to him and went inside, leaving him in the hallway, his door still locked.
“Night, Pam,” he whispered into the quiet corridor.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer still applies, and does for the rest of the story.
Thanks for the overwhelming response!! I'm glad to see I have a lot of actual people in Philly reading! (If I get something wrong, feel free to point it out, Philly dwellers.) Enjoy!
EmilyHalpert is an amazing beta, and I don't know how I got along without her.
Thanks for the overwhelming response!! I'm glad to see I have a lot of actual people in Philly reading! (If I get something wrong, feel free to point it out, Philly dwellers.) Enjoy!
EmilyHalpert is an amazing beta, and I don't know how I got along without her.
Chapter End Notes:
Where I get all my Philly facts (besides the all-knowing Wikipedia):
http://www.rittenhouserow.org/
http://www.rittenhouserow.org/
