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DISCLAIMER - I don't own anything, this is all for fun.
A/N -Part of the Memories are made of this series. I found this sitting in my email with a few other things I'd written over a year ago, and with a little editing, I decided to get it posted. Hope you enjoy! I have one more that I'm going to edit up and post later.
The day he bought a house for her
Finally, Jim Halpert had everything he had ever wanted – since he met his fiancé in 2002, all he ever wanted was to marry her. And now, a month into their engagement, something started festering in his stomach.
It could have been that they kept missing one another’s phone calls more often than made him comfortable. Or it may have been the drunken nine minute voicemail she had left for him, sounding like she was having the time of her life.
Which was all well and good and fine. She never experienced the city and all it’s offerings before. She should enjoy it.
The proverbial angel and devil sat upon his shoulder though, in the quiet moments when the moon cast its spotlight on the space she left behind on their bed, the thoughts would fester like an itch that would continue to sustain until skin was rubbed raw.
What if he lost her? What if she woke up one day and realized she loved Manhattan and her new friends and her new lifestyle more than she loved him?
He trusted her implicitly, with his entire mind, body and soul. But what if something changed within her that made her realize that she needed more than he could give her? The part of him that knew he was being ridiculous wasn’t loud enough in those early morning hours when he lay awake watching the streaking light of the room dim and brighten. All of the things he would never dare say aloud to her, all of the worries he had, he knew needed to stay within the confines of his own consciousness and never be splayed out on the table for her to see.
Not doing that, he knew, would only lead to an argument about distrust and questions from her, of why exactly if he felt so unsure, would he have proposed marriage?
He already knew that if the relationship were to end, it would have to come by way of her. He was set, as far as he was concerned. He was in this for the long haul, whatever it took to make a marriage work, he would do it.
As it stood now though, he had no idea how to accomplish that goal. He knew that he wanted to one day wake up with Pam, get ready to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary with their closest family and friends. He was in love with and going to marry the girl of his dreams - the thought alone made him feel a bit too giddy for any man.
Now that he had everything he always wanted, he wondered why it still seemed so futile to believe that everything was okay, so difficult to ease his feelings of unrest because she was in another city following her dream. He was happy for her, proud of her, and so completely in awe of what she could accomplish.
During the day at work, when he busied himself with sales and tried to squeeze every ounce of money out of clients that he could so he could afford to continue to support her while she was in New York, he was fine - mostly.
It was that nine minute voicemail message that she had left that bothered him the most that Saturday morning. It was the way his mind worked, never really letting things get inside until he had time to mull it over. Of course, it hadn't helped that her ex had planted the seed in his head when he said, "You were a friend too," or however he had phrased it, that made Jim think that just because he had put a ring on her finger didn't mean that she couldn't change her mind.
He knew it was insane, crazy, to think that way. Many times over the last year and a half, she'd professed her love to him, shown her devotion to him through actions that no other woman had ever done for him. She became part of his family, became the one person he depended on the most. As far as he was concerned, the sun rose and set with Pam.
It was the question his mind kept nagging him with - how do you hold on to her for the rest of your life, which led him to his parents' house that Saturday afternoon. He was smart enough to know he shouldn't pick up the phone and barrage her with all of these questions that had been in his mind.
“So,” Betsy began, setting some plates of fruit and pastries on the table. “How’s our girl doing? It’s been a while since she’s been home.”
“She’s good,” he smiled, lifting his eyebrows. “It’s tough, you know. With her being all the way over there.”
“I know you miss her,” Betsy sympathized, resting her hand on his shoulder. “A few more weeks though and she’ll be right back here where she belongs.”
“Does she?” he asked, his uncertainty coming through his words against his will.
“Of course, sweetie.”
“But,” he sighed, shifting uncomfortably. Admitting it aloud for the first time was going to make it real. He braced himself. “What if she likes it so much there, that she realizes that she has more in common with her art friends than she does with me?” He instantly mocked himself for sounding like such a petulant child as the words fell through the air.
“Jim,” Betsy scoffed, “that girl is more in love with you than I’ve ever seen anyone love any thing. What are you talking about? Did she say something that made you think she’s changing her mind?”
“No,” he let out a breath, covering his face with his hand briefly before shaking his head at himself. “I’m just, I don’t know. What if she just doesn’t want to come back? She’s having a lot more fun there than she would ever have over here. It seems that way anyway.”
“Jimmy,” Betsy intoned. He smirked at her for using that nickname as she continued. “You’re sounding a little like you don’t trust your fiancé.”
“I do trust her,” he voiced adamantly.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“There’s … nothing here for her to come back to. Except for me. And I don’t have any idea what I’m … it’s. It’s just complicated.”
“Doesn’t sound so complicated to me. She has you to come back to. That’s all that girl needs, believe me. I not only see it. But I know it. Now,” Betsy winked. “Your dad’s outside. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable having him tell you you’re crazier than that guy you work for.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, amused. “Maybe.” He stood and kissed Betsy’s cheek before striding toward the yard.
“Jimmy,” she said, stopping him midstride. “Whatever you do, don’t break that girl’s heart. She’s been through enough.”
“I’d never do that,” he said, his features innocent, his hand held to his chest. “Never.”
“Good. Now go help your dad with those weeds and that garden. I’ll call you in when lunch is ready.”
“Thanks, mom.” He nodded and walked to the yard, the sound of the kitchen faucet fading in the background.
“Hey dad,” he said, patting Gerald on the back. “Can I help you with this?”
“Nah,” Gerald uttered, his breathing a bit rapid. “I’m almost done. What,” he turned to face Jim. “What’s …son you look like you just lost your best friend.”
“Eh,” Jim shrugged. “That’s actually not as far from the truth as you’d think.”
“What’s going on?” Gerald asked, concern creasing his brow.
“Nothing at the moment. But you never know,” Jim shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Gerald nodded.
“What would you do if you thought mom could do better?”
“She probably could,” Gerald chuckled.
“Dad,” Jim scoffed. “I mean, what if mom had this thing that she always wanted to do, and she did it. And then if she came back to her regular life, she might not get to do what she wanted to do all that time?”
“Jim, first of all, you’re whining like a six year old. And believe me, I know what I’m talking about, all four of you sounded the same at that age. And second, isn’t this what you wanted for Pam all this time? For her to pursue her artistic talents?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, putting his hands in his pockets and let out a long breath. “It is.”
“I remember having this conversation with you some time last year, you wanted to know how exactly to encourage her without making her feel like she was less of a person.”
“Right. No, you’re right. I’m just … dad, what if she wakes up one morning and figures out that I’m standing in her way.”
“I don’t think things are as complicated as you’re making them out to be. I think you need to trust that she knows what she’s doing. When she says she’s coming back home, you have to believe that it’s what she wants.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, considering silently. He moved on, something in his head telling him that his parent’s just were not understanding his fears. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Ah,” his dad said, moving his hand in the air over the garden. “Doing some preparation before we put the house on the market.”
“Wait, what? You’re moving?”
“Yes, your mom and I have decided to move to a retirement community. It’s not far off from here. The only small hitch is … well, a few things really.”
“What?” Jim asked, his head tilting in curiosity.
“Well, first your sister is going to have to find somewhere to live when she comes back from college.”
“Is she okay with that?”
Gerald shrugged. “Seems so. She was upset, made us promise we would save her furniture for her so she at least has something to sleep on when she finds a place to live.”
“That doesn’t seem like a big deal. I probably could hold onto my apartment for a while after Pam and I find a house.”
Gerald’s face brightened. “That sounds like a good plan,” he grinned, patting his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Can you tell her that sooner rather than later? She thinks we’re abandoning her.”
“Oh, okay I’ll call her tomorrow. Pam wanted to ask her if she’d be in the bridal party.”
“Well, if she has to move into her own place, I’m sure she’ll be cutting corners. Don't be surprised if she says no. Wedding's are expensive.”
Jim rolled his eyes inwardly at his father’s very father-like speak. “True. Have to ask her, though.”
“At this rate though, this house isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The realtor said something about the front door sticking and the over grown weeds out front, the kitchen’s too small, and whatever else these realtors can come up with. We got so sick of them telling us to renovate, we just decided to do it on our own. Maybe someone will see it in the paper. Four bedrooms, Jim. You’ll never find a house with four bedrooms in this neighborhood for the price we’re asking.”
He listened to his father continue to sell him attributes of a house he spent most of his life in. He knew all about the gutters getting stopped up every fall. He already knew that the grass in the yard should be replaced, that the roof leaks during a storm, and that the hot water heater in the basement clanks while it warms up.
He watched his father speak, his finger pointing to the second floor. Fond memories flooded back to him, of a time when his father and he sat under a tent and had a campout, just the two of them. They watched Tom and Pete glare down to them from those windows, the jealousy on their faces back then still etched in his mind's eye now.
He remembered all the times he’d fallen from his bike, or found a hidden treasure in the far end of the yard, or played on the now taken down swing set. He had a good childhood in this house, he thought. It was filled with warmth, with comfort. He took in the frame of the house. It was small, but what it held inside, to him, was everything a home should be.
“Dad? How much are you selling it for?”
“We’re asking for three hundred fifty thousand.”
“What if I buy it?”
“What’s that?” Gerald straightened his posture, his eyes quirked in surprise. “You mean buy the house?”
“Yeah,” Jim nodded, nostalgia filling his tone. “I … I think it’d be really awesome to raise our kids here. I’d take care of the renovations, and you won’t have to kill yourself trying to get to retirement.”
“You sure about that? It's a lot to take on."
"I'm sure," Jim nodded, his eyes wandering over the house, a grin etching its way onto his face. "I think we'd be really happy here."
"Want a look around?"
Jim laughed. "I think I pretty much know what I'm getting myself into."
"All right, Jimmy. You have a deal." Gerald held out his hand for Jim to shake. “Next weekend, you and I can go to the bank, get the ball rolling on a mortgage for you.”
“Okay," Jim agreed, nerves mixed with excitement coursing through his veins.
“Such a turn around from you questioning if she'd want to come back here to agreeing to try to buy this house."
"No. You're right. I was being irrationally paranoid. Better with you than with her. She's got enough to worry about."
"Smart move."
"Thanks, dad."
"Anytime, Jimmy. I'll get you the list of things that need to be replaced and repaired. Some you could do on your own. Others you may have to hire someone."
Jim nodded and patted his father’s back, grinning in appreciation. He looked to the house and felt both at peace with himself, and something indiscernible. Nervous. Scared. Determined to make this the home she deserved. Determined to make even more sales than he'd ever made before.
He let out a breath as he walked into the kitchen behind his father. He tried to eat the lunch his mother prepared, but for some reason it wouldn't go down. He turned his eyes to the wall, imagined it covered with tiny fingerprints, imagined the refrigerator covered with pictures and drawings, envisioned a small curly haired little girl standing on a chair, helping mix cake batter together.
"Jimmy's going to see if he can buy the house," Gerald announced once Betsy sat in her chair.
"Oh! That's wonderful," she exclaimed, hugging Jim around the shoulders.
Jim grinned, nodded and let out a disbelieving laugh. "It is."
**
“Hey,” he smiled at the screen, watched her wave back to him. “What are you up to?”
“Just doing some work,” she rolled her eyes. “I have this stupid project to do and it’s driving me nuts. I can’t get it right.”
“You will, no worries.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged. “So what’d you do today?”
“Oh, went to my parents' house. They say hi.”
“Aw, hi back.”
“So, next weekend, I may come by you on Sunday instead of Saturday. My dad needs some help closing up the garden and stuff.”
“Okay. Oh, we can go for brunch. Ever hear of Mesa Grill?”
“Uh, no.”
“Bobby Flay? Food Network?”
He shook his head, puckered his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Mm-mm nope.”
"Then we should go. Everyone says it's amazing.”
“Okay, let's go for it," he agreed.
"Can you be here by eleven?"
"I can come by Saturday night, actually."
"Okay. Hey can you do me a favor? Will you bring me some sweaters? It's getting cold."
“You got it."
"Thanks."
"So, I asked my dad if he thought Larissa would want to be in the bridal party. He doesn’t think it’s going to work for her though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She probably can't afford it. And my dad didn't offer to foot the bill. They're thinking of selling the house, so she'd have to find somewhere to live.”
"Why doesn't she move into your apartment? We could find a bigger place, maybe with a second bedroom?"
"You know, I was thinking the same thing," he grinned, touching his finger to the computer screen. "I really miss you."
"I miss you too," she pouted. "Only a few more weeks. Plus you'll be here next Saturday night."
"Yeah," he nodded slowly.
"Okay, I should get back and finish this project. Call me later?"
"I will."
"I love you, Jim. I can't wait to marry you."
He tilted his head to the side and smiled. "Me too. I love you."
.
Chapter End Notes:
I hope you liked this. It was originally for another story entirely, and with a little touching up, it's now a stand alone. I hope you liked it :)
Deedldee is the author of 19 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 5 members. Members who liked The day he bought a house for her also liked 2487 other stories.
This story is part of the series, Memories Are Made of These. The previous story in the series is Enough.
