Author's Chapter Notes:
We now rejoin Ms. Beesly, whose date is currently in progress...
PAM
Jim parks near the playground at Nay Aug Park. I’m trying to rub my arms in a not-too-obvious way – after two pints of beer (and way too much blushing), I’d gotten overly warm at the restaurant, but once I’d stepped into the night air I got goosebumps. Jim gives me a smile as he turns off the ignition. It quickly turns to a frown as he notices what I’m doing.
“Are you cold? We can scrap the walk.”
“No, no, I’m not cold.” I try to smile reassuringly. He shakes his head, grinning, and reaches past me into the backseat. A moment later he sits back up and hands me a black hoodie.
“Just in case you do get cold,” he teases as gets out to open my door. Once I’m outside I slip the sweatshirt on. It comes down to the middle of my thighs and the sleeves completely cover my hands. I’m surrounded by his scent – a mix of his soap, cologne, fabric softener…things I can’t be sure of that always smell so good combined on him. I know it sounds strange, but it’s so…intimate. “Perfect fit,” he jokes as I zip it up. I strike a pose.
“What can I say? I’m a fashion plate.” We set off along the sidewalk silently, but as we near a wooden walkway I point toward it. “Do you want to take the trail to the treehouse?”
“Sure. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
“It’s beautiful. We had our last watercolor class out there last week.”
“Oh really?”
I nod. “We were doing paintings of the gorge.”
“That’s cool.” There’s a pause. “How are your art classes going, by the way?”
“Well, this semester is finished, but I’m taking two more classes starting in a couple weeks.”
“Anything interesting?”
“Um, yeah actually. I have Two-Dimensional Design and Introduction to Commercial Design.”
Jim smiles over at me. “You’re really branching out. That’s awesome.”
I shrug self-consciously as I smile back. It’s quiet again.
“You warm enough?” he asks after a minute. I nod.
“Much better now, thanks.”
“Good.” And that’s it. Again. I sneak a peek Jim’s way and see he’s lost in his own thoughts. I know this silence isn’t because we’ve run out of things to say. It’s more that we’ve covered all of the easy topics. I’m pretty sure we both know that eventually we’re going to have to start talking about at least some of what we’ve avoided all night. Although I know I – we – can handle it, I’m still kind of scared to actually start down that road.
I also wonder which of us is going to make the first move – any move - physically. Well, let’s be honest – no matter how Fancy or New this Beesly is (or how many beers I have), it probably won’t be me. I’m, like, hyper-aware of the fact that we haven’t touched all night, not even accidentally. We’re walking side by side but our arms haven’t even brushed against each other. I hope I’m not giving off a vibe that I don’t want to Jim to touch me, but this is one area I can’t read him on. If talking about anything serious was something we avoided, physical contact between us was almost forbidden. If I’m going to be totally honest, I think a little part of me still feels like it’s off-limits. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Ten quiet minutes later we reach the walkway to the treehouse. “Here it is,” I say unnecessarily. Jim looks surprised.
“Wow.” I felt the same way when I first saw it. There are a few hundred feet of what’s almost like a narrow boardwalk stretching ahead of us, leading to a beautiful gazebo-like structure 150 feet above Nay Aug Gorge that’s actually built around a tree. Jim gives me a smile and holds his arm out. “After you.”
I walk the path into the tree house and stand against the far railing. Jim slowly walks around, his hands in his pockets. “I can totally see why you guys would come here to paint. The view is…”
“Incredible,” I finish for him. Tonight it’s even more breathtaking. The sky is a pinky purple, a few stars already twinkling, and the waterfall below is silver. Despite the beauty, or maybe because of it (and probably the alcohol too, although I’m by no means drunk), I can feel a wave of emotion coming over me.
The thing is, it isn’t just happiness. The euphoria I felt earlier has worn off some and left me with joy, sure, but also confusion, and guilt, and maybe frustration. I don’t know. I can’t describe it. I think the silence we’ve been in since we got here has let all the craziness of today catch up to me, and my chest tightens as I try to keep everything in. I’m out on a date with someone I’ve thought about almost nonstop since he kissed me last year, and yet now I can’t stop thinking about what he said at the restaurant. Because of me, Jim has thrown his entire life into a tailspin. He’s back at a job he can’t stand, and I’m assuming broken up from a girlfriend that he’d been happy with. I can’t feel good about that, no matter how much I want to be with him. I take a few slow breaths, hoping the cool, clean air calms me down. It doesn’t, really.
After Jim’s done a full lap around the treehouse he doesn’t join me at the railing. Instead he stands against the tree behind me, leaning on the trunk and crossing his long legs in front of him. Him keeping his distance doesn’t make me feel any better, so rather than face him I turn and look out at the gorge. The endless silence stretches on.
And on.
Jim clears his throat. It startles me, but I still don’t turn around. “I want you to know I ended things with Karen today. Before I left New York,” he says, his voice low. My eyes fill with tears.
“Okay,” I struggle to say, angry at myself for the tremble in my voice. I know in my heart that soon he's going to say something that's going to set this emotional rollercoaster off.
“I thought you should know that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I meant to, but…” His voice trails off into the darkness. I press the cuffs of his sweatshirt to my eyes, desperately trying to keep any tears from falling. “Once I saw your note, I had to.” That does me in. A tiny sob escapes before I can stop it. I bow my head and clasp the railing. I feel so stupid. Jim is immediately at my side. “Oh, Pam…” I look at him. “God, I’m sorry. I really should have told you earlier.” He starts drumming his fingers against the railing, something I’ve seen him do a million times on my counter at work. I know it’s his nervous tic.
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. Well, I mean, it is, in a way…but you shouldn’t be apologizing. I should.”
The drumming stops. His eyes narrow. “What do you have to apologize for?”
“I feel like…I feel like this past week all I’ve done is screw things up for you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The look of confusion on his face only makes it worse.
“Last week, at the beach, I say all this stuff to you…and I mean, yeah, maybe it was good that I got it out, but why not months ago, right after Roy and I broke up? That’s when I should have done it!” I look his way and see nothing but shock. I think even if he wants to agree – and he probably does – he can’t say anything. “And aside from one lousy text message, I never even called you once in Connecticut, Jim!”
He shakes his head slowly. “Um…no, you didn’t. But I didn’t return your message, and I didn't call you either.”
I wave away his attempt to even the playing field. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t your place to call me. I mean, you put yourself out there, you’d already…” I can’t rehash the way he’d opened his heart, and he knows what I mean anyway, “and then you were gone, and I realized how I …and you came back and I…I chickened out…over and over…and then got back together with--...and I didn't say anything until I walked on some coals at an office retreat? What is that?” I’m so worked up that my rambling is hardly making sense to me. I can't help it - everything I've had to hold back so a camera won't see, or a co-worker won't overhear, is trying to pour out at once. I take a deep breath and try to collect myself. “Did I have to have my moment, or whatever, in front of everyone – including your girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrects quietly, probably unsure of what else to say.
“But not then – she wasn’t your ex then! And then all I could do was be so proud of myself that ‘Fancy New Beesly’”- I use sarcastic air quotes – “had finally been honest with you. I didn’t even stop to think how it would affect you, or her…and she’s a great girl, Jim! Karen is a really nice person that even after she found out about…whatever, was still willing to be nice to me!”
“Yeah, Karen is a good person. But, Pam-”
“And as if all that wasn’t enough,” I continue, cutting him off, “I stick some stupid little note in that file, and you could have completely missed it and just handed the folder to the CFO of the company, during the biggest interview of your life for this amazing opportunity!”
“Wallace never even saw it, Pam. I’m serious – I decided to take my name out of the running,” he says, trying to reassure me. I cover my face.
“That’s the point!” I cry, then fold my arms across my chest as the truth hits me. “Up until I was so stupid…up until I decided I just had to speak my mind, everything was going so well for you. I couldn’t have picked a worse time. You had a great girlfriend, you were about to get a great job in a great city.” I sigh around another sob. “You had the chance to be really happy.”
There’s another long stretch of silence.
“Are you serious?” Jim finally asks. I nod, wiping my eyes. “Oh my God,” he breathes, and from the corner of my eye I see him shake his head. He takes my shoulders gently and turns me towards him. That simple touch sends heat waves radiating through me, which only intensify as his hands travel down my arms slowly. I uncross them and he takes my hands, then stares into my eyes. For a minute I feel like we’ve been transported back to a year ago. He looks just as open and vulnerable as he had then. “Don’t you get it?” he asks softly. I’m not completely sure what he’s asking so I just shake my head. He smiles softly. “Pam…you’re my chance to be really happy. Just you.” He looks down for a second, then raises his eyes again. They’re bright with tears but he still has that smile. “It’s always been just you,” he says, his voice hoarse as his thumb strokes my knuckles.
There will be so much more to say later, I know. But with that one reassurance – that what I felt for him wasn’t one-sided, that what he said a year ago was still true - I feel all of my confusion, all of my guilt…everything that’s been building up for the last year starts to melt away. It’s not like some movie moment; it’s more that, for the first time in a long time…God, maybe ever, that a moment feels absolutely right. It’s that feeling that gives me the courage to wrap my arms around Jim’s neck and rest my head on his chest. I think the fact that barrier is completely knocked down – and that I was the one to do it – surprises him, because I can feel his breath catch in his throat. But only a second or two later his arms are around me tightly and his chin is resting on the top of my head.
We stand like that in silence – a comfortable silence now – for a long time. I’m still a little weepy, but I calm myself down by focusing on the little details. Jim’s heartbeat against my cheek. His even breathing. How soft his button-up shirt is. How he’s stroking my back so slowly I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. How dark the night’s gotten since we got here. My list is interrupted when he clears his throat.
“Still warm enough?”
“Totally.”
“What would you like to do after this? I mean, if you’re not too tired.”
“It’s like ten o’clock. How lame do you think I am?”
“You really want to know?” I reach up and pull his hair.
“Well, I was waiting to surprise you, but I do have good beer at my apartment.”
“Intriguing. How good we talkin'?”
“Blue Moon.” I know he loves it; he had a case of it at his party last winter. It was so good I’ve been buying it for myself ever since.
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“I get to hang out with you and drink good beer, twice in one night?”
“Uh huh.”
“Not a bad night,” he rules.
We let a minute or two pass.
“Jim?”
“Yeah?”
“I have something else to tell you,” I say, trying to sound serious.
“What’s that?” He sounds a little worried – after everything I’ve blurted out tonight, I can’t blame him.
I smile against his shirt. “I did say ‘the Sixers are done.’”
I feel his laughter before I hear it. “I knew it! When did you start watching basketball?”
“Well, I tried baseball first, but it seemed like there was too much to learn. Plus it’s so slow.”
“Now that is a misconception I’m going to have to clear up for you this summer.”
“Anyway, I already knew I didn’t really like football, or hockey, because I’d seen a lot of both…before.”
“Right. What I’m not sure of is why someone who was never interested in sports was trying so hard to find one to watch.”
I don’t even hesitate with my answer. At least for tonight, we’re past that. “It made me feel close to you, I guess. I knew you were watching somewhere too.” His embrace tightens just a little.
“I just wish you could have seen a better season,” he sighs.
“Me too. But at least you’re not a Knicks fan. That would have been torture.”
He laughs again. “Very true.”
“I mean, they make Philly look like the Mavs.”
“Wow.” Jim pulls away to look at me, still chuckling. “Listen to you, Sportscenter!”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “I know my stuff.”
“I see that.” Jim takes my hand. “I promise you’ll never have to worry about me being a Knicks fan.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Even in the dark I can tell he’s giving me a sly grin. “Oh c’mon, Beesly, haven’t you learned by now?” he asks as he starts leading us out of the treehouse.
“Learned what?”
He squeezes my hand. “New York’s not my thing.”
Chapter End Notes:
The Nay Aug Treehouse is indeed a real place. I dare you not to see romance there!
Also, all these reviews? Ribbons? 's crazy! Thanks so very much!
Also, all these reviews? Ribbons? 's crazy! Thanks so very much!
