Jim POV
Pam is out in the shadows of the landscaping, half-hidden by a shrub. Her back is to me and I can see her thin shoulders hunched forward as she crosses her arms tightly across her chest. I can’t see if she’s crying, but I know she is.
I reel myself in, already setting ground rules that I’m dying to break. Keep it light. Don’t touch her. Remember you’re with Karen and Pam doesn’t want your touch. Said it plain as day.
“Hey, Beesly, I didn’t see you near the appetizers, so I know you can’t be running out here to retch.”
She jumped and surreptitiously wiped her cheeks before turning to face me. “Yeah, who would have ever thought that cocktail weinies and cherry pie filling constituted appetizers, right?”
“It’s like they hired Leftovers R Us Catering. Way to save a buck, huh?”
She laughs, a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “For the record, I wasn’t going to hire that caterer.”
“Right. You’re just at fault for the flowers, the dress, the band, and the invitations, right?” Jesus, Halpert, why don’t you just shout, ‘Hey, wanna talk about Roy?’ Be as much of a masochist as possible. By all means.
“Rough night, eh?” I asked her, keeping my voice gentle. It wasn’t hard. Even when I was mad at her, I didn’t speak harshly to her. Never could. “Are you doing ok?”
“Yeah, fine. It’s not a big deal, really. I wasn’t going to use those things, so why shouldn’t Phyllis? I mean, I’m glad I’m not using those things, but still…” she trailed off, halfway between being candid and trying to fake being ok. I couldn’t blame her for being conflicted. I hadn’t exactly been inviting intimacy since I returned to the Scranton office. No wonder Pam wasn’t sure how much to tell me anymore.
Just then, I heard a rustling in the bushes, like branches on wool. Oh, Lord, not Karen. I’ll be hearing about this all week. I glanced at Pam and the look on her face was pained, resigned. She didn’t want to face anyone else right now. I quickly surveyed the area. Nobody could have seen us yet.
I grabbed Pam’s arm and pushed her more deeply into the bushes, holding back branches so she could get through and following closely after her. For a second, the curve of her hip brushed against my thigh and I jerked away. With the conservative clothes she always wore, you couldn’t tell, but Pam’s body was curved in the most beautifully female way…I don’t think the clothes fooled anyone. In any case, touching any part of that body was not an option open to me, even if I wanted to further flagellate myself with false hope and fantasies.
Another rustle made us both turn and through the concealing bushes, we saw Dwight, creeping low in a hunter’s stance. He had a penlight, and, oddly, a piece of rope. Like a lasso. He was a beet farmer, not a cattle rancher, for God's sake.
There was another rustle and Dwight pitched the lasso, then leaped into the bushes after it. A yelping struggle ensued, and then we saw a rabbit high-tailing it out of the bushes. Dwight picked himself up and brushed himself off.
“Animal control- lazy, incompetent stooges. And of course I am left to protect this wedding single-handedly from both wild animals and unscrupulous wedding crashers. The work of a public servant is never done.” He strode away with only the slightest hint of a limp, leaves clinging to the seat of his pants.
My dropped jaw changed to a grin of surprised glee. Leave it to Dwight. Pam had a hand clapped over her mouth and the sound of smothered giggles erupted. I loved that sound. It had chased away the boredom of many Dunder Mifflin days. She was shaking with laughter now, and she stumbled a little, falling back against me. I caught her shoulders automatically, but was laughing too hard myself by then to remember to step away. She was so small, her head barely reaching my collarbone, and she felt warm and nice against my chest.
She leaned her head against me, her giggles starting to subside, and I had just enough presence of mind to drop my hands from her shoulders, but I still didn’t step away. Her hair smelled like peaches. I looked up, wondering if the camera crew was out there, too. I’d caught them taping us through the blinds in the break room before and I wouldn’t put it past them to follow me out here. Normally I didn’t mind, but Pam didn’t need a camera in her face right now.
She stiffened and stepped away, clearing her throat. Maybe she’d remembered the possibility of cameras as well. I missed the feel of her, but I didn’t let myself imagine what it would be like to hold her, to have permission to do it whenever I wanted. No hope, no stupidity, less pain. That was the plan.
Pam looked up at me and her smile faded. That look was back. The look that I absolutely refused to let myself interpret.
Pam POV
I met his eyes again and the joke I was going to make about Dwight’s rabbit rodeo faded from my lips as the pain wrenched again. I should not feel this way. It was ok to miss him, even from ten feet away every day in the office. It was lame, but it was understandable. This breath-stealing pain was not ok, not honorable, and irritatingly hard to control.
He had a nice girlfriend and I didn’t have any right to want to reach for him. Not now. I could have visited him, could have done something other than send cowardly text messages after he left. And I didn’t. So if I threw away my chance to be able to reach for him, I couldn’t blame him, couldn’t even confide it to him. It wasn’t my place and I wouldn’t make him unhappy again.
I don’t know how people in books and movies control their emotions. Mine certainly weren’t taking any advice from me on what to do. It was the most I could do to keep my mouth shut and to cross my arms across my chest again, keeping my traitorous, boyfriend-coveting hands to myself. But my eyes roamed over his kind, familiar face, my eyes reaching for him because my hands wouldn’t. And I couldn’t force the pain out of my eyes. I didn’t know how.
“Pam?” he said. I loved his voice. It was so gentle and husky, even when he was teasing me. I don’t know what men on phone sex channels sound like. Actually, I don’t even know if they have men on phone sex channels. But if they sound anything like Jim, I would call them all the time. Because they would always sound like they cared about you. Even talking dirty sex talk might be comforting in Jim’s voice. Or funny and sexy all at the same time, a combination that I’d only seen Jim be able to pull off. When Roy tried to tease me about sex, he just sounded sleazy.
I was supposed to be more assertive now, so why wasn’t I saying anything I was thinking? Because it would screw things up? Like things could get any more screwed up. I was alone, living in an ugly, cheap apartment without even a cat. Jim was barely more than polite to me anymore, and his girlfriend was skinnier and prettier than me. And my dream of being an artist? Well, as Oscar’s boyfriend had so graciously put it, my art was “Motel Art” without passion, or honesty.
I looked around for somewhere to sit, suddenly exhausted by my life. I didn’t see a bench. Obviously- we were in the middle of a bunch of bushes behind a reception hall, not a park. I sank to the ground. Honesty, huh? Hadn’t done me any good so far, but what had?
“Pam?” he sounded even more concerned now.
“I love your voice,” I told him, hugging my knees, looking at the ground. Even when I was being honest, I was still a coward.
“You know how little girls dream about Prince Charming, about the perfect kiss?” He didn’t answer, but I didn’t care. “I always thought that if someone would touch me the same way your voice sounded, that would be the perfect show of love. No, I’m not saying it right- what I mean is, what your voice makes me feel like, that’s what the perfect kiss would be like.”
“What would it be like?” he asked, his voice becoming even softer, but a little wary. He dropped down on one knee next to me, not quite close enough to reach out and touch, even if I wasn’t a coward.
“It would be gentle, respectful.” I looked up at him, brazen now because really, like I could get more embarrassed than I was already going to be. “It would be exactly like how you kissed me on Casino Night. Except that even a kiss that perfect didn’t lead to a happily ever after, did it?”
“No,” he agreed. “It didn’t.” He sat down cross legged, right in front of me. Our knees almost touched but neither of us reached out. I gripped my elbows tighter, almost too tired to wonder about what would come of what I’d said.
“Hey,” he said, ducking his head a little, trying to catch my eye. “Why did you really come out here?”
“Isn’t it blindingly obvious?” I said, with a little, self-deprecating laugh.
“I’m not sure,” he said carefully.
I squirmed a little, wanting to keep being honest, but still embarrassed. Apparently honesty didn’t make you feel less pitiful. “I’m ok. You can go back inside, if you want. Karen’s probably waiting.”
“I’d rather hear what made you so sad. Besides, she’d probably just make me dance some more, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone.”
I sighed. “Could we pretend that I’m just smashingly drunk and won’t remember anything I just said or anything I might say later?”
“How about we pretend that we’re hidden by the bushes and the dark,” Jim said, reaching over and giving a playful tug on one of my loose curls. “And I’m your best friend and you can tell me anything?”
The tears sprang back in my eyes at that, and I laughed a little at the irony because it hurt so much when he was nice to me, and wasn’t that stupid? “Is that what we’re going to pretend?”
Chapter End Notes:
The cocktail weinies and cherry pie filling were from a real wedding I attended. I know, something that weird has to be true :)
