His thumb pressed hers and she laughed.
“Not fair, your fingers are bigger.”
“Hence, clumsier. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Who told you that.”
“My sister. I’ve never have been able to win thumb war against her.” Jim let go of Pam’s finger and both thumbs moved around. This time she was faster and her small thumb felt on his.
“See?” he said.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You mean, you want to force me to answer by pinning my thumb.”
“Yeah, something like that.” She loved that they were still them.
“Fire away.”
“Did you planned it all? Today?”
Jim laughed, and freed himself. “Not at all.”
“No?”
“Nope. I hadn’t even planned spending the afternoon together. I thought we’d get out and then off to our separate ways.”
“Really?” Her hand was still in his, but she wasn’t moving her finger. She knew he had improvised some of the things they did but now, in retrospective, it appeared as if their Valentine had been a very elaborate plan of his.
“My original thought was just to help you escape.” He shrugged. “The rest was you, taking advantage of me.”
“Oh, I see.”
She looked out the window, at the streetlamp and at the quiet night. After a moment she felt him squeezing her fingers lightly. She smiled.
“I always thought it was supposed to be us, going away together” she said. “Never thought any different.”
“My point exactly.” He pressed her thumb.
“This one doesn’t count,” she said, looking at their hands. It was strange how her small one fit on his large palm, and she couldn’t shake away the feeling that this was how it should be.
“Is my fault you are easily distracted?”
“Oh yeah. I blame you.”
Jim echoed her laughter. It was so easy to laugh together, always had been. And yet, Pam was still trying to convince herself that this was indeed happening. That she was in Jim’s room, sitting on the bed, playing thumb war of all things, at two in the morning.
Suddenly she couldn’t help but think about the day ahead and the task she had. Her expression must have shown some of it because Jim frowned a little.
Gently, he pressed her thumb with his. “Are you scared?”
“Not scared… just,” she shrugged, wanting to shake the thoughts away. “I hate the wait. I just want to talk to him and be done with it.”
“I know.”
Pam had decided not to go back to Roy’s that night, and had just sent him a simple text message. She knew there was a chance he would be drunk and she needed him sober to tell him. To break up with him.
Mark volunteered to take her first thing in the morning, after they agreed Jim shouldn’t do it. She had been touched by the fact that Jim didn’t want her to go alone but also knew that was the only way to do it.
“I don’t think he’ll get angry,” She said, looking how worried he suddenly seemed. “Just… sad, I guess.” she looked down at her crossed legs, covered by pyjamas several sizes to big. How was it possible for this whole situation to feel so familiar and so new at the same time.
“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, and she jerked her head to look at him. He seemed to be forcing a smile upon his face.
“No,” she said simply.
“Good.”
Leaning forward, she kissed him, a chaste peck on the lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long, only I never realized.”
“Come here,” he said, moving to rest his back on the headrest and pulling Pam with him until she was nested under his arm, her head on his shoulder. “We should get some sleep,” he murmured into her head.
She just nodded, tiredness falling over her as a warm blanket.
“Is it going to be too hard? To start everything from scratch?” she said after a moment. She had made a dozen mental lists, some longer and scarier than the others.
“Not too hard. It might be fun. Choosing an apartment, picking the colors… you’re going to enjoy it.”
“Yeah…” she said, sleepily, imagining a color catalogue and smiling to herself.
He kissed her forehead, and scooted a little lower, so that their heads rested on the pillows. Pam’s eyes were closed, but she smiled.
“Jim?” she opened her eyes.
“Pam?” he was looking at her, his face inches from hers.
“Are you going to help me?”
“Absolutely, I will.”
