Four years later.

Pam loved Singer, really. What she didn’t love was waking up barely able to breathe, because Singer decided she looked more comfortable than his memory foam dog bed or the unoccupied half of her queen-sized mattress. She knew Great Danes were big dogs, but she severely underestimated just how painful it was when they laid on top of you. She groans and tries to shove him off, but he only adjusts his position, squishing her further.

“Singer, off, you’re killing me.” When he doesn’t move, she rolls her eyes and shoves him once more, “I’m serious, get off. Let’s go.”

With this, Singer finally lifted his head and turned to look at her, looking perplexed, as if to say “What’s the issue? I’m trying to sleep here.” After another shove, he finally gets up, pressing his paws into her as he does so, and hops off the bed as Pam tries to breathe normally again. She looks over at him as she sits up and stretches, “You have got to stop doing that. One of these days I’m not going to wake up because of you.” She swears he rolls his eyes, as dramatic as he is, and she sighs, slipping on her glasses and walking out of the bedroom, Singer following closely behind. “C’mon, let’s get you outside.”

She opens the back door and steps outside into the warm summer air. Winters were pretty brutal in northern Pennsylvania, but the summers made it worth trudging through all the snow each year. Singer all but jumps down the five deck stairs leading to the tree lined backyard and starts his morning ritual of surveying the perimeter. She sometimes wonders how she got the one dog in the world who feels more human than she does some days.

It’s not that she’s not grateful for Singer’s human-like qualities. It made training him a breeze, he was able to learn a command after being shown how to do it only once. He seems to fully understand anything she says, and almost always responds appropriately. She’s sure her neighbors think she’s crazy when she’s ranting in the backyard over a margarita, having a full on conversation with what should be another person, but then look over and she’s actually talking to a dog who huffs and whines after each complaint, as if his life is also affected by the toilet getting clogged for the third time that week. But he has helped her in so many ways since he entered her life four and a half years ago, so if he thinks that sniffing every tree in sight will somehow help her, she’ll let him.

She steps back inside, knowing he won’t be ready to come in for at least ten minutes, and heads to the bathroom to shower before work. She glances at herself in the mirror as she undresses. Her auburn curls resemble more of a lion’s mane than she would like. She can see some remaining eyeliner smudged under her eyes, mostly hidden behind the thick frames of her glasses. And even though she still has a light imprint on her left cheek from her pillowcase, she can’t help but think that for the first time since Mark has died, she feels pretty good.

Because now she’s past the searing pain that came along anytime Mark entered her mind. The grief is gone, now replaced with a smile as she remembers their time together. Everything he did for her and what they accomplished together. She still misses him, of course, but she doesn’t cry herself to sleep anymore or break down when she sees a picture of him. Instead, she holds her memories of him close to her as she does what he asked her to do, live her life without fear and find happiness once again.

Which is why she started dating a couple of months ago. She didn’t plan to start up again right now, but then Toby came into her shop. He wasn’t the best looking guy in the world, not that she’s superficial or anything of the sort, but he seemed shy and sweet, so when he finally mustered up the courage to ask her out three weeks later, she figured why not. She knew it wouldn’t go very far, but she saw it as a good opportunity to dip her toes back into the dating pool. Turns out, one date with Toby was one too many for her. He took her out to Cugino’s, a small Italian restaurant in the middle of town, and within the first five minutes she was already dreading being there. Even the other patrons quickly caught on to her misery, and after an hour of Toby talking of nothing but HR and his horrible boss, she received far more pitiful glances than she ever did the first few weeks after Mark’s death. One more hour later, he drove her home, she let him kiss her cheek as they said their goodbyes, and she has been avoiding his calls ever since.

Then she met Alan at Cooper’s, who she thought she could actually go further with. He was an artist just like her, he laughed at all her jokes, even if they weren’t all that funny, he actually let her talk about herself every now and then. She couldn’t figure out why he was still single at 34, until their second date when he got a way too comfortable way too fast and if he wasn’t trying to outright palm her breasts, he made no secret of staring at them, even after she called him out on it… twice. Needless to say, there wasn’t a third date.

She met Brian through a mutual friend. She liked him, good looking, appreciated her career, knew about Mark and was even able to share a couple of high school stories she hadn’t heard before. But then she asked him to elaborate on his job, and when she found out exactly what he did, she knew this date would be the last. Brian, she found out, worked in the sewers. As soon as she heard that, she couldn’t help but picture the stereotypical greasy-haired, dirty, smelly man that most associate with that kind of job, even if Brian resembled none of that. She could appreciate his work and knew someone had to do it, but she knew she wouldn’t get past it, no matter how nice he was. So, she wished him a good night an hour later and then laid in bed wondering if anyone even just a little bit normal still exists out there.

And then she met Roy. He walked into her shop last week, thinking it was a souvenir store instead of an art studio, looking to buy a trinket for his mom. He ended up walking out with one of Pam’s paintings, a watercolor of the Scranton skyline, and her number, with a promise to pick her up on Sunday at six, and Pam couldn’t have been more delighted. Roy was tall and built, she found out at dinner that he did play football in high school, just like she thought. He was thoughtful, asking her as many questions as she asked him, kind, opening doors and pulling out her seat, and funny, making her laugh until there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He drove her home and asked if she would like to go out on a second date next weekend, to which she happily agreed. His grin matched hers and he opened his mouth to say something else, but then Singer started growling from the other side of the door, so he politely kissed her cheek, and then they wished each other goodnight.

That was one aspect about Singer she hadn’t quite figured out yet, his protectiveness. He was always protective of her, always keeping a close eye on new people who got a little too close for his liking, growling at those he especially didn’t like, and if he was in a particularly bratty mood, would sometimes even push Pam away from anyone he didn’t deem worthy of her time. She knew he had something against men, didn’t like them since he was a puppy. But he had been acting even more strange ever since she started dating. It was like he felt there was suddenly competition, and he was the only one who was allowed to win. The more men who dropped her off, the more Singer growled, trying to show his dominance, and Pam quickly realized that Singer is basically a giant, furry, jealous boyfriend. Which is why she told him to cut it out as she walked inside after Roy had dropped her off. He obeyed, of course, but not before giving one more dramatic huff at the door and then going into the bedroom and pouting like a toddler for the rest of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that dog.

She shakes her head and quickly finishes undressing and then hops into the shower. She lathers her hair with shampoo, trying to erase the thoughts of bad first dates and crazy dog antics. Her mother, as toxic as she was, always told her not to dwell on the past, especially if you’re only going to remember the worst of it. That’s the only bit of advice that she takes seriously from that woman. If Pam thought that she wasn’t having any luck with men, then she wouldn’t even know where to begin with her mother. It seemed like every other day she would come home from school to her mother drunk and with a new man. Growing up in the small town of Boone, North Carolina, Pam wasn’t sure how her mother kept finding new guys to drink and hook up with. For the most part she didn’t mind, though, as she would hide in her room, only coming out for the bathroom and something to eat. It wasn’t until Pam was older and her mother’s “friends” would suddenly be interested in her instead. She was able to blow the first few off, getting into her room and locking the door behind her before they even realized she left them in the middle of a conversation. Until she was 18 and one guy wouldn’t leave her alone, trying to shower her with compliments and promises of a good time to which she would roll her eyes, willing the microwave to cook her leftover spaghetti faster. Then he grabbed her wrist and wouldn’t let go, only releasing after she bit his hand hard enough to draw blood, the distraction long enough for her to leave the house, her dinner forgotten. She tried to tell her mom about it the next day, but she quickly found out that was the wrong thing to do because an hour later she was homeless with only one small suitcase full of clothes to her name.

She didn’t like living on the streets, not that she thought anyone would. During the day wasn’t too bad, she was able to stay clean enough to hang out in libraries or cafés after school without alarming anyone, but nights were scary. She never slept, too afraid that someone or something would see her alone and vulnerable. This meant a couple of detentions for falling asleep in class, but she didn’t mind, it was an extra hour she didn’t have to worry about finding a place to stay. After she graduated, she finally found a diner that would hire her full time, and she worked every shift that they would let her, trying to save up for a house, or an apartment, or a trailer, or really anything that would get her off the streets.

Two months later is when she met Mark. As a traveling salesman, he was visiting North Carolina on a business trip, driving through Boone to get to Charlotte. She had decided it was fate that he stopped in this nowhere town, choosing a small, run down, 24-hour diner to eat lunch at just as she was starting her shift. He turned to her as he pulled out his wallet in order to pay for his meal, “If I come back tomorrow, will you be here?”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. “I thought you were on your way to Charlotte?”

He smiled and put a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, double what his total had been, and stands up, “I was, but I think something more important came up.”

She couldn’t help the blush the crept up onto her cheeks as she smiled back and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

True to his word, Mark returned the next day, same time, and sat in the same stool at the counter. She was glad Thursdays were slow, so she could spend most of her time talking to him. When he found out that she wasn’t living anywhere yet, her paychecks much lower than she had hoped they would be even with all the hours she puts in, he seemed to contemplate something before taking the last bite of his sandwich and pulled out his wallet once more.

He pulled out another twenty but then also pulled out a small business card and laid both down on the counter before looking back up at her. “Unfortunately, I can’t put off this sale any longer and I’m heading to Nashville after Charlotte, so I won’t be able to come back here, but listen. I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to trust me outside of my word, but I’ll be back in Scranton in a week. If you ever find yourself up there, I can get you a job and a place to stay, if you want it. If you don’t, well, I hope I run into you again, sometime.”

Two weeks later Pam found herself in Scranton, Pennsylvania, stepping off the bus with her suitcase in one hand and Mark’s business card in the other. She was taking a risk, trusting the word of a man she had spoken to twice, hoping he would keep his promise and she wouldn’t be homeless once again, this time in a foreign city, but she couldn’t help but feel like there was something about him that she could trust. So, she goes up to the first payphone she can find and dials his number, his voice coming through on the second ring.

Just like he said in North Carolina, he met up with her less than an hour later and brought her to meet his Aunt Jolene, who Pam loved immediately. Jolene, or Jo as she insisted on being called, was older, with short, gray hair and square glasses that she wore just above the tip of her nose. She had a southern accent, stronger than Pam’s, having grown up in Florida until Mark’s mother died and she moved up to Scranton to help her brother raise two young kids. Jo owned an art studio right in the middle of town, where she hired Pam to clean brushes and sweep floors in exchange for a steady paycheck and a small apartment above the studio, which was all Pam could have ever asked for.

It wasn’t until almost six months later that her and Mark actually started dating. She had dropped hints, pretty obvious ones too, that she was interested, but it wasn’t until she talked to Jo and asked her if he even liked her that he got the hint and asked her out. Their first date was at Benihana’s, where they stayed so late that the waiters all but shoved them out the door. They continued the night walking through downtown, Mark pointing out little hidden gems that one only knows if you’ve lived there all your life. He walked her home, and she kissed him goodnight, knowing if it took him this long to ask her out, she didn’t want to know how long it would be until he kissed her, before heading inside where Jo sat, anticipating every detail of her night.

The following year with Mark was full of more dates, from take out nights at home to walks through the park to the occasional fancy restaurant where they pretended to be better people than they actually are for an hour before going back to one of their apartments, changing into sweatpants, and binging out on ice cream before falling asleep to a sitcom on TV. The year ended with Mark down on one knee and ten months later, Pam walked down the aisle. During all of this, Mark introduced Pam to his best friend Jim, Jim’s brother Danny, and Danny’s wife Karen. Pam was grateful that she fit into the friend group seamlessly, all three of them accepting her as if she had been a part of their lives for forever.

It wasn’t until five years after they got married that things took a turn for the worse. What started as headaches turned into migraines which ended up with Mark in the hospital where he was diagnosed with the tumor in his brain. It was slow growing, but the doctors warned that it could be fatal and given its position, it was too risky to surgically remove without leaving Mark with some form of brain damage. They opted for chemo instead, praying that it would be enough to remove the cancer and save him. It worked for a few months, stopping the tumor’s growth and even very slightly shrinking it, before it stopped working. Eventually the chemo got to be too much and with no success towards it shrinking the tumor, they made the hard decision to stop and wait it out, maybe try again in the future if needed.

Things seemed okay for a couple of years, Mark was on some medication which had the tumor growing very little, the doctors pleased with the size as they got it measured every couple of months. Then Mark passed out after having a seizure the summer before he died, and when Pam brought him to the hospital, they found out the tumor had almost doubled in size since he was last seen. From then on, Mark was almost constantly in the hospital, only going home for a day or two at a time when they requested and if he was healthy enough at the moment. It was only a couple months later that they knew it wouldn’t be long before he was gone, and then a couple months after that he had died.

Jo had been an angel to her throughout all of this. Of course, everyone she had met these past few years helped when they could, but Jo seemed to always be right there, exactly when and how Pam needed her most. As soon as Mark had been diagnosed, Jo had Pam start painting. Pam had always enjoyed art, and would often doodle while answering phones or watching Jo paint, but she never picked up a brush herself unless she was about to clean it. But Jo told her that art has saved her life so many times, helped her clear her head and be able to start fresh whenever she felt like it, every blank canvas a new opportunity, and maybe it’ll do the same for her. So, Pam started painting. Simple things at first, flowers, mountains, the occasional animal. With more and more practice and advice from Jo, she started painting misty forests and beaches at sunset. She would paint her and Mark on their first date or her and all of her new friends laughing around a poker table. Eventually, Jo also started paying for Pam to go to an art school a couple of towns over so she could hire Pam as an actual artist and make a decent paycheck instead of the pennies she was making currently. Pam denied at first, saying she would pay for it for herself, but Jo insisted, saying, “As long as you keep making that boy happy like you are right now, then it’s my pleasure.”

Which is how Pam is now the second best artist of Bennett Studio, which isn’t as big as a compliment as she likes to think it is, considering there’s only one other artist besides Jo who works there, but that’s beside the point.

Pam finishes getting dressed as Singer finishes his breakfast and then they’re both out the door. She almost misses the small, light blue envelope that is wedged between her mailbox and its flag, the corner of it catching her eye as she walked down her driveway. She takes it out and opens it up, seeing “I had a great time last night. I hope you did too. Talk soon? -Roy” written on a yellow post-it note inside. She smiles and slips the paper back into the envelope before turning to Singer and saying, “See? I told you he was a good guy. Now don’t you feel silly for barking up a storm last night?” Singer huffed and started walking ahead, done with this conversation. She laughed and followed him, walking to work as her Jeep is once again getting repairs. She’s about two blocks away when she hears her name being called from across the street and she grins when she turns to see Jim waving and walking towards her. Singer looks up at her, asking permission to go ahead and she nods, so he runs up, meeting Jim halfway. Jim scratches his ear and pets the top of his head as he closes the gap between him and Pam.

“Hey, your car is done, finished it up about an hour ago.”

“What was wrong with it?”

“The alternator, like I thought. You also had an oil leak, so I took care of that.”

“I had an oil leak?”

Jim chuckles, “Yeah, didn’t you see a stain on your driveway?”

She shrugs, “I guess I never looked. Well, thanks for doing that. How much do I owe you?”

“Hmm… well, my mom’s birthday is coming up. You know that painting you did for her last year? How about you paint her something to go with it and we’ll call it even.”

Pam rolls her eyes, “Jim, you know I can pay you. Like, with actual cash.”

“It’s fine. The parts were easy to get and it didn’t take that long to fix. The guy who sold me the new alternator owes me a favor, anyway.”

“Does Danny know you’re doing this?”

Jim covers his heart with his hand, acting as if he was shocked that she would ask such a thing, “Of course he knows. We’re partners. And anyway, it was his idea.”

Of course it was, she thought. Instead, she sighs, “Fine, but next time, I’m paying you. With real money. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

He grins, his voice just short of sing-songy when he says, “Yeah, okay, we’ll see.”

She rolls her eyes once more but can’t help herself from matching his lopsided smile that she has come to find out is so very Jim. She watches as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and he seems to be debating on whether or not he wants to say something when he finally asks, “How was your date last night? With… uh..”

“Roy?”

“Right, yeah, Roy. How was your date with Roy?”

“It was nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He pauses, unsure of what to say next but not wanting the conversation to end. “Uh, what did you do?”

“Just went out to eat. Had dinner, some wine, split dessert, you know. Usual date stuff.”

She made sure not to tell him about Roy kissing her on the cheek as they said goodnight or leaving her a note sometime late last night. She likes Jim, he’s her closest friend. The kind of friend who didn’t come by very often and if you were lucky enough to find someone like him, you don’t let anything happen that would make it even a little bit possible to lose him. That’s why she didn’t mind telling him about Alan or Toby or Brian, because she knew those things were short lived and he would have a ball laughing at her misfortune when it came to dating again. But now that she found someone who, for the first time since Mark had died, she could maybe see a future with, if things continued the way they are right now? She can’t get herself to tell him the details. So, she keeps her answers short and sweet, giving just enough information so he doesn’t feel like she’s blowing it off but still keeping it as private as possible. Because she doesn’t want to see him hurt. Jim is… well… he isn’t very subtle about his feelings towards her. She knows that he has a crush on her, has known that for a few years now. Knows that he may have even liked her while she was with Mark, though she hasn’t confirmed that yet. Nonetheless, she knows that Jim wants to ask her out, but she’s conflicted about it. He was Mark’s childhood best friend. They grew up together, were basically brothers. Jim was Mark’s best man at their wedding. Wouldn’t it be weird if she started dating him? Would it mean that she secretly always wanted to? She’s not sure. So, for now, she doesn’t. She keeps her dating life and friendships separate, until she can figure out what she wants.

“Sounds like you had a good time.”

“We did. We had fun.”

“I’m glad.” He lied, though he tried to sound happy for her. He hopes she bought it.

“Don’t worry, Jim. You know you’re the most important person to me, right?”

He slumps his shoulders a bit, “That’s just because I fix your car.”

“Don’t be silly, you also fixed my kitchen pipe last week.”

“And your washing machine.”

She squeezes his arm as she walks past him, walking backwards as she says, “What can I say, Jim? You’re my best friend,” before turning back around and continues walking to work, Singer following right behind her.

***

Jim watches Pam walk away for a moment before turning around and heading back to work himself. He could see Danny leaning up against the garage door frame waiting for him and inwardly sighed, not wanting to deal with his brother’s torment at the moment, but knowing it’s inevitable.

“How’d it go?”

Jim feigned confusion and hopes he sounds casual when he responds, “How did what go?”

“Her date with Roy.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business. Besides, I don’t care about her date.”

Danny chuckled, “No? So, what were you talking about?”

“I was just letting her know that her car is done.”

“Already? She just dropped it off yesterday.”

“It was just replacing the alternator and fixing an oil leak.”

“What did you charge her this time?”

Jim turns and walks past Danny, grabbing his coveralls from the hook on the wall. “A painting for Mom to go with the one she got last year.”

Danny whistles, “You’re lucky I’m the one running the numbers here. We’d be bankrupt if it were all up to you.”

He rolls his eyes, “You would have given her a discount, too.”

“Sure.”

“So, what does it matter?”

“Because I want to know how her date went.”

Jim steps into the coveralls, pulling them up over his waist and slipping his arms through the sleeves, “I already told you I didn’t ask her about it.”

Danny raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. I was just hoping to compare stories, that’s all.”

Jim pauses in the middle of zipping up his uniform and looks up at his brother, “What do you mean?”

Danny smirks and starts walking towards his office. “I was talking to Jo after church yesterday. We usually go to morning service, but Karen had a fundraiser for the school, so we went to the evening service and ran into Jo at fellowship.” He turns back to Jim, now leaning on his office door frame. “She had just gotten back from a very interesting dinner where she so happened to be able to see and hear just about everything Pam and Roy did last night. She told me most of it, but I was curious if Pam had shared any extra details with you.” He shrugs and pushes off the frame, turning around and goes into his office. “But since you don’t care about it, I won’t bore you with any stories.” He looks back over his shoulder, “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Hudson dropped off her Lincoln while you were talking to Pam, she’s hoping to get it back by the end of the day.”

With that, he closes the door behind him, leaving Jim in half-zipped coveralls, jaw slacked, and wondering how on Earth he was going to be able to get the details of Pam’s date out of Danny without him holding this over Jim’s head for the rest of eternity.