After a couple of weeks of wallowing in self pity, I decided to go do something for myself. I’d like to say that I quit Dunder Mifflin, won the lottery, broke up with Karen, and then declared my love for Pam who happened to say something along the lines of, “Oh, Jim! I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that!” But I didn’t. However, I did break up with Karen in the nicest way possible. Well, at least there weren’t any tears shed. I may have received some bruises, but oh well.
I did keep in touch with Pam after she had gone back to New York. You may think I’m crazy, and I could use some cliché metaphor that Pam is like my heroin, and I can’t survive without her. But I’m not going to use a cliché metaphor or simile. Instead, I will make up my own: Pam is my own personal brand of shampoo. My very own Pam-tene Pro-V if you will… Why am I using that lame metaphor? Well, it’s simple. When I didn’t have Pam in my life, my life was a tangled mess. As soon as Pam came back in my life, things seemed less messy. Be jealous that you haven’t thought of that.
There was more laughter in my life now. Yes, it did hurt knowing that Pam was engaged to some successful graphic designer, and she loved him, but you know what? I’m not going to turn my life into some Julia Roberts movie. Yes, I still have feelings for Pam, and yes, sometimes it feels like I’m trying to swim wearing concrete shoes, but still...it’s nice to have someone who brings a smile to my face whenever we talk.
You could say that what I’m doing is unhealthy or selfish. But frankly, I don’t care. I think it’s about time that I did something for myself that makes me feel better.
So when Pam asked if I wanted to meet Alex, her fiancé, I decided that it was time to embrace the enemy. Plus, Pam said it would mean a lot if we all became good friends. I often wonder if I’m a masochist. I’m just saying that to let you all know that I know that you’re probably thinking that I’m a masochist. Anyway, that afternoon, I took off from work early, and made my way over to New York. When I got there, I almost hit a guy riding a bicycle with a huge sign that said that “Clinton was a rapist.” I tried to apologize, but he called me some derogatory names, so I just went back into my car.
I drove over to Tavern on the Green just in time to see Pam walking in through the entrance. At least I wasn’t late. I spent about three minutes looking for a place to park, and I jogged over to the restaurant. As soon as I walked in, Pam was waving to me.
“Hey, Pam,” I said, giving her a hug. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No, you’re actually early,” she said, motioning to the seat across from her for me to seat down. “Alex is on his way.”
“Okay,” I said, not really knowing what to say. I looked around the lighted restaurant. It was so shiny…and under these shiny lights, Pam radiated like the angel she was.
“Thanks for driving all the way over here,” said Pam, grinning her wide grin, looking happy and grateful.
“No problem,” I told her. “Thank you for giving me an excuse to leave work early.”
Pam giggled, “Anytime, Halpert. So what have you been up to?”
“Nothing really,” I replied. “But I did start working on a couple of outlines for some story ideas…nothing solid though.”
“Well, it’s something, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember that story idea that you had? When we were in Jersey…?”
I felt my face burning. Mainly because that story idea was pretty lame, but also because Pam had remembered. I was under the impression that she was half asleep when I told her about that. Then there was the fact that Pam had mentioned a time when we were together. Yeah, we were kids, but still. Just because we were young, doesn’t mean it didn’t mean anything. I let out a laugh.
“I can’t believe you remembered that…I thought you were asleep,” I said, taking a drink of water.”
“No,” Pam giggled. “But have you thought about that story much?”
“Pam, that was me at the height of my teenaged angst,” I laughed.
“Yeah, but it was still a good idea…” Pam shrugged. “I mean, yeah, the guy would have had probably the worst life ever, but if you really focused, you can turn it into something realistic. Don’t you think so?”
I nodded. What Pam said did make sense. Quite frankly, that idea that I had ten or eleven years ago was probably the best story idea I have. My new outlines consisted of stories of sparkly vampire wizards. Granted I haven’t really tried that hard…but that story of the man with a brain tumor was a story that, in a way, was true to life. It wasn’t just about the tumor. It was about love. It wasn’t just a sappy romance novel. It was all about love. The rush of adrenaline love sends through your body, and how it makes you so vulnerable. Because that’s what love is. It’s not just a feeling or an emotion. It’s much more than that. It’s a mixture of all emotions, and all the feelings a human is capable of. It’s pain, anger, happiness, sadness…
“What are you thinking about?” Pam asked, smiling at me.
“Sorry,” I waved my hand. “I just realized that that story idea may have been the best idea that I’ve had…”
“Then build up on it,” challenged Pam.
“Oh, I will, Beesly,” I smiled. Just then, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see a friendly looking man, smiling at me.
“You must be Jim,” he said, reaching his hand out. “I’m Alex.”
“Oh, hey man,” I said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” said Alex, and he gave Pam a quick peck before he took his seat next to her. “I hope I didn’t keep you guys waiting too long.”
“No, it’s fine,” smiled Pam, taking Alex’s hand.
Let me tell you something. This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. The way Pam would smile up at Alex was so reminiscent to the way she used to smile at me when we were together. I had an internal war going on in my brain. One part was telling me to reach over the table and punch Alex in the mouth. The other part was telling me to play it cool. Then there was a third part that was worried that I might be a schizophrenic.
“Pam tells me that you guys have known each other for quite awhile,” said Alex, flashing me a million dollar smile that annoyed me because he did seem like a nice guy.
“Yeah,” I said, looking over at Pam. “Gosh, what’s it been? Almost twelve years, right?”
“Almost,” she smiled.
“So tell me, Jim, what was Pam like back then?”
Oh, she was amazing, buddy. She lit up my GD world.
“Well, she used to curse like a sailor,” I replied. “Seriously, every other word out of her was some sort of profanity.”
Alex laughed.
“She still curses like a sailor,” he laughs. “Whenever we’re driving, she’ll be yelling at something or someone.” Alex changes his voice so that’s it’s high-pitched, “‘Oh my fucking, God! That asshole just cut me off! I will kill that son of a bitch!’”
I reluctantly let out a laugh while Pam hits Alex’s arm.
“She’s also abusive too,” he said.
“No kidding, when we were kids, I would go home covered in bruises,” I told him.
“That’s not true, Jim,” scoffed Pam.
“Oh, I believe it,” said Alex. “Pam doesn’t know this, but I cry at night whenever I think of all the abuse she puts me through.”
Pam playfully hits his shoulder again. Alex fakes a comical look of pain, and we all laugh. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to laugh, but if you saw his face, you’d laugh too.
“Oh my goodness, lady,” Alex said, obviously pretending that he was serious. “If you hit me again, I will tickle you…”
I watched as Pam hit Alex, and I was waiting for Alex to tickle her. If there was one thing that Pam hated, it was being tickled. As Alex began to tickle Pam, I flexed my fingers, ready to reach over the table and twist his stupid nipples. Before I could do anything, however, Pam was laughing. It wasn’t that forced laugh that you get when someone’s tickling you, it was genuine. Seeing this made me feel as if someone was twisting my own nipple while simultaneously giving me a paper cut.
I wanted to hate this Alex guy. But I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. We drank wine as we all talked and joked around as if we were old friends. He was funny, nice, and smart. In a way, he reminds me of a slightly more mature version of me when I was eighteen. Even his looks were similar to mine. He had slightly shaggy brown hair that he brushed back, almost lazily, he was my height, and the only difference between us was that he was more cushiony that me. His humor was similar to mine, and the bastard even liked the same music and sports teams as me. So how could I hate this guy? Sure I pretend that I hate myself sometimes, but that’s only when I think back of the mistakes that I’ve made…
The only difference between this guy and me was that he had an awesome career. He made covers for bands’ albums, he designed logos for movies, and he even designed the logo for Eli Manning’s new restaurant.
It was hard to hate him. The way this guy would steal glances at Pam, not in a selfish way, but in a way that says, “I’ve just won a million bucks!” And how could I hate him when he makes Pam smile so radiantly that it penetrates me, and makes me feel happy for her?
Alex pays for dinner before I could even offer to pay. He looks down at his watch, and I look down at mine as well. I don’t know why, but every time someone checks for the time, I always follow. It’s like the yawning chain. One person yawns, someone else follows. It was 8:45.
“I should get going,” said Alex, looking up from his watch. “I have a flight to catch in the morning.” Alex leans over and kisses Pam. “I’ll see you on Monday. I love you.”
“I love you too,” smiled Pam. I get up as Alex lifts himself out of his chair.
“Well, Jim,” he said, shaking my hand. “Let me know if you’re ever in town, man. We should try to catch an Eagles/Giants game sometime.”
“Definitely,” I said. “Take it easy.”
“You too, man,” he looks over at Pam. “I’ll call you when I land tomorrow.”
“All right,” said Pam.
Alex gives us a final wave, and we watch as he leaves the restaurant.
“So you guys aren’t living together?” I asked.
“No, I mean, he just proposed a couple of weeks ago, and we both still have leases on our condos,” Pam explained. “So what did you think?”
“He seems like a really nice guy,” I told her. Honestly.
“He is,” agreed Pam. She hesitates before saying, “So do you want to walk around the park? I mean, I know it’s late, but…it’s the weekend.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, getting up. As we left the restaurant, I asked, “So where’s Alex going tomorrow?”
“Chicago. One of his buddies teaches graphic design course over there, and Alex is giving a guest lecture on Monday,” replied Pam, stumbling over her feet. I caught her. “Whoo…I must have had too much wine…”
“Me too,” I laugh, feeling tipsy as well.
“You think you’ll be okay to drive later?”
I nod as we walk towards Central Park. It’s a beautiful autumn night. It’s not too warm, nor is it too cold. The weather is perfect, and the slight breeze is relaxing. It’s almost déjà vu. I remember walking around the park by Pam’s parents’ house years ago. Back when she was with Roy. I was too afraid to speak then just as I am now. I’m afraid that I’ll say something to make things awkward. But at least back then, had I had the courage to tell Pam how I felt about her, it wouldn’t have been that bad considering that Roy was kind of a tool. If I broke now, and told Pam that I still love her, I would feel terrible. Only because Alex is a nice guy. If he were an ass, that would be another story. Like I said before, life isn’t a Julia Roberts movie.
“So you said you were working on some outlines?” asked Pam, breaking my train of thought once more.
“Yeah, but they’re nothing serious. I just got bored at work, and I drabbled…”
“So? What are they about?”
“You’ll only make fun of me,” I smiled. “Plus, it’s nothing that’s going to be earth shattering…I was only trying to humor myself.”
“Try me.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “Well, I thought about writing about a vampire wizard, because Twilight and Harry Potter are huge. I was thinking of calling it Larry Moonlight. Then I decided to bring Greek Mythology AND incorporate pieces of the bible. So I thought about writing about an immortal centaur named Gibbons who happened to be the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, and his mission is to stop the apocalypse from ever happening…”
I watched as Pam struggled to keep a straight face.
“So…are you being serious?” asked Pam, her voice cracking slightly.
“Well, I’m serious about the outlines, but as for actually writing them? No,” I replied. “It’s okay to laugh; I meant them to sound funny…”
“Oh, gosh…you are such a dork, Halpert!” laughed Pam.
We both laughed as I pretended to recite lines from my book.
“…and the horseman of death heard it. The most terrible noise he had ever heard. Gibbons was sprinting at break-neck speed, his mouth twisted in rage, letting out the most terrible and terrifying neigh that Death had ever heard.”
“Oh my god! Stop it! I can’t breath!” laughed Pam, doubled over, trying to catch her breath. Her hand clutched to my shoulder as she tried to regain her composure. “When did you become such a nerd?”
“Dwight rubbed off on me, I guess…Plus, when I worked at Barnes and Noble after I got expelled, I read a bunch of really crazy books.”
“I could imagine…” said Pam. Her smile slowly faded. “What was it like? Getting expelled, I mean?”
I shrugged.
“I guess I felt betrayed. I mean, I considered Mark to be a close friend, and when he didn’t come forward, it was a knife to the back,” I explained. “And then going to Oregon, and facing my parents? My dad was like three years sober at the time, and Jesus…he just breaks open a bottle of scotch in front of me. All the while, my mom’s crying, and there’s nothing worse than making your own mother shed tears.”
“I’m sorry,” said Pam softly.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I could have called,” sighed Pam. “Or sent you an e-mail…”
“The same goes to me to, Pam,” I said as we approached a bench. “I guess we both made mistakes.”
“Can I ask you something?” asked Pam, sitting down next to me.
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you…you know, write me when I went to Paris?”
I hesitated before answering, wondering whether telling her the truth was a good idea or not. But this is Pam, and I could never lie to her.
“I guess I was ashamed. I was so close to graduating, and then…I made one little mistake, and I paid for it,” I told her. “Then everything came crashing down at once. At the time, I was happy for the most part. I had a group of close friends, front row tickets to the Dwight and Andy showdown, and I was happy with how my classes were going. But after I got expelled, nearly everyone stopped talking to me. It wasn’t because they thought I was snorting coke, it was because I was the one that needed to talk. You know me. I’ve always been a listener. And you were in Paris, probably having the time of your life, studying famous drawings…I didn’t want to bother you. By the time you got back, I was afraid. I wasn’t over you, and I was afraid that you were over me. So I waited. A couple of years later, I moved back to Scranton, and at least three times a month, Holly would offer to give me your number, but I always declined. I knew you were in New York, sketching and painting; your book had been published. And I’m in Scranton, selling paper…I wanted to be something when I talked to you again. But for years, I didn’t even try to accomplish anything. I had dug myself in a hole, and it sunk deeper and deeper. By then, it’s been like four or five years since we’d even talked, so…it seemed like a lost cause.”
I was facing away from Pam, talking to the air, but I felt her eyes piercing me. There was a soft brushing sound, and her warm hand covered my own. I turned to her, and her eyes were filled with sympathy.
“Jim…” she sighed. “I should have called…I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured her. “It’s all in the past now.”
Pam shook her head.
“I wasn’t ever that happy,” said Pam. “While you were in Colorado, I mean. I missed you a lot, and I tried dating other guys. But they were all tools…for awhile, I was mad at you. That’s why I became distant when you came back to visit that one year.”
“Why were you mad?”
“I kept comparing other guys to you…they just didn’t measure up.”
I know that there’s a that’s what she said in there, but I bit my tongue. I didn’t know whether or not to be flattered, or to apologize…
“Um…I’m sorry?” I said. Pam waved it off.
“So I tried to convince myself to try to forget about you, but you made it so difficult. And I know it’s not you’re fault, because I was the one that kept texting and calling you,” sighed Pam. “To be honest, when you didn’t call me before I left to Paris, I was sort of relieved. Eventually, I got mad at you again. I started to wonder why you never called to say goodbye. Then as time went on, you didn’t even write me or anything. So I asked Holly if she talked to you, and I heard that you got expelled. I could have easily written to you to see how you were doing, but I was too afraid…or maybe I was just stubborn. But anyway, I guess in short, it took me so long to get over you. I wanted to give up, but you were always on my mind. Then I met Alex, and he reminded me so much of you…”
Once again, I found myself speechless. In a way, it’s a relief to find out that Pam had been hurting too, but on the other hand, there was Alex. She pretty much spelled it out in front of me: she loves him because he reminds her of me. But I’m here now…how does she feel now?
“You’re happy now?” I finally ask.
“Yes.”
“That’s good then,” I said. “I’m happy for you…”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Beesly,” I told her. “And…I’m sorry…about—you know. You hurting…”
“Its fine,” smiled Pam. She gave my hand a squeeze, and at this point, I’m ready to spontaneously combust. I realize that me asking her if she’s happy now was pretty unclear. What if she thought that I had meant if she was happy that she was here with me? God damn it, Jim, you are seriously the biggest dumb ass sometimes.
“So when’s the wedding?” I asked, watching for her reaction. If she acts surprised, then I’ll know that she meant she’s happy that I’m here. If she doesn’t…well…at least I still have my health.
“Next winter,” smiled Pam, nodding. Looks like she’s happy with Alex. “So do you keep in touch with any of your old friends from school?”
“Oh yeah,” I said sarcastically. “I talk to them all the time…especially Mark.”
Pam swats my arm, and laughs.
“So you just stopped talking to all of them?”
“No, I mean, Dwight called me a few times, and same with Andy. And I had a really close friend named Audrey, but we lost touch like three or four years ago…”
“How come?”
“You know how it is. Distance distinguishes relationships.”
“Most def…” sighed Pam, releasing my hand. “You still feeling tipsy?”
“A little, but I think I’m good to drive,” I replied. “What about you? Did you drive here?”
“Oh God no…” she laughed. “I took a cab. The only time I drive is when I go to Scranton.”
“I see…um, do you want me to give you a ride home?” I asked. “I mean, it’s pretty late, and yeah…I just I want to make sure you get home safely.”
Her smile is beautiful as she nods, and we walk across the park slowly towards my car, our shoulders brushing softly. When we get to my car, I open her door for her, and make my way to the driver’s side.
“Do you want some heat?” I ask when I start the ignition.
“Yes, please,” replied Pam, rubbing her hands together.
I ask her for directions to her loft, and we drive.
“So,” I say after driving for about ten minutes. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, of course!”
“Does Alex know about us?” I glance over at Pam, and she has a guilty look on her face.
“In a way, he does,” replied Pam slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he knows about you, but…he doesn’t know it’s you…”
“Oh...wow, Beesly,” I laughed.
“I just didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it! I mean, we’re just friends now, right? Like…we’re over what happened, aren’t we?”
For some reason, this feels like I’m on a game show—like Pam’s quizzing me. I don’t know how to answer, because I’m not even sure if I am over her. On one hand, she’s engaged, but on the other hand, she’s engaged to Jim 2.0. What’s to say that she’s not over me? If I say yes, then what if I hurt her feelings? If I say no, what if she calls me an asshole?
“To be honest, Pam,” I sigh, deciding to tell her the truth. “I’m not sure if I am over you…”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim meets Alex, and he and Pam have a very important conversation about the past.
Chapter End Notes:
It would have been too easy to make Alex a jerk, because one, that's cliche, and two, you have to give Pam some credit. Do you really think that she would be engaged to a jerk after dating Jim? Anyway, sorry about the cliffhanger and all the angst, guys. For serious, I tried to throw a little humor in there. This story's all mapped out, and the end is almost near.
