Outwardly, the revelation of Karen and Jim dating didn’t change Pam’s world too drastically. While Jim didn’t visit reception nearly as much as he did before he went to Stamford, he still involved Pam in his Dwight pranks, for which she was grateful. Karen, thankfully, was kind and friendly toward her. And for whatever reason, Jim never brought Karen back to his apartment so she wasn’t really faced with it outside of work.
Inwardly, however, Pam’s world had shifted. She was constantly caught in the mental tug-of-war of wanting to maintain their friendship or giving into her deeper desires and pushing the envelope. Jim hadn’t shown any signs of wanting more than friendship since that night after their dinner with Larissa, but she hadn’t been able to shake the look he gave her or the way his hand felt against her cheek. She half-heartedly convinced herself it was just a fluke, a remnant of how he used to feel about her, and they were just friends now. He was with Karen.
While they hadn’t spent an entirely large amount of time with each other outside of work, the initial awkwardness seemed to have dissipated between them much to Pam’s relief, considering their proximity to each other both at work and otherwise. She regularly texted Jim to come kill spiders for her and he would call her to see if she had a missing ingredient for whatever he was making for dinner that night. She loved when that happened because he would always bring her some of what he made as a thank you, and Jim was surprisingly a very good cook. Things were comfortable, even if it wasn’t everything she wanted.
This particular Thursday night, Pam found herself in a showdown against the lid to the peanut butter jar and she was losing. All she wanted was a giant spoonful--her guilty pleasure. She sighed, admitting defeat. Slipping on her flip flops, she tucked the jar under her arm and walked down the hallway. She knocked and yelled through the door, “Halpert! Another jar emergency!” The door opened.
It was Karen. Man, she really needed to start texting first.
“Pam…?”
“Karen! Uh, hey...sorry,” she held up the jar of peanut butter, “it won’t budge and Jim is frustratingly good at getting jars open…” She could hear the awkward nervousness in her own voice.
“Wait, do you live here?!” Karen questioned. “Jim never told me that! Here, come in. He just went to go pick up dinner.”
“No, it’s alright…”
“Really, come in. He’ll be at least 10 more minutes and I could use the company. He only has sports channels and I’m bored,” she smiled.
Pam hesitantly walked into Jim’s apartment after Karen.
“I can’t believe I never knew you lived down the hall from Jim!”
“Yep, it was a surprise to us too once we figured it out.”
“Must be nice to have a friend so close.”
“It has its perks,” she shrugged, holding up the jar of peanut butter. Before she could stop herself, she forced a smile and looked at Karen.
“So, you and Jim, huh? How’s that going?” She was nothing, if not a masochist.
“You know...it’s actually going really well. I mean, you’re good friends with him, I’m sure you have his side of it, but I think we’re both pretty happy. He’s really, really great.” Karen was glowing. “It takes a little bit to crack his shell, but we’re definitely getting somewhere. He’s funny, so nice,” she lowered her voice with a coy smile, “a great kisser…”
Pam quickly flinched but tried to twist it into a smile, hoping Karen didn’t notice the slip. It had just dawned on her that Karen had not been educated in The History of Jim and Pam. No wonder she had been so friendly at the office. Right now Karen was talking to Pam as a girlfriend, not as someone who knew exactly how good of a kisser Jim Halpert was.
“I’m really happy for you two!” Pam mustered. “You know what, I just remembered that I have something in the oven I should check on,” she lied. “Tell Jim he owes me an open jar.”
Karen laughed. “Will do! Good to see you. You’ll have to come over sometime and watch a movie or have a glass of wine or something with us now that Jim’s heater works again.”
Her back to Karen, Pam frowned. Jim’s heater had never been broken. She knew that because once when she went to return some of his Tupperware, she was smacked with a wall of heat when he opened the door. “What?! I like it hot!” he had said (obviously followed by the two of them saying “That’s what she said” in unison.)
“Yeah, sometime! Good to see you, Karen.” Pam turned and waved, shutting the door behind her. She whipped out her phone on the way back to her apartment.
Jim.
Pam.
Does Karen know about what happened with us?
Pam’s gut clenched. In the three months since Jim had been back, they hadn’t once mentioned the giant Casino Night-shaped elephant in the room.
Jim!
No. She doesn’t.
Seems like something she should know, Jim…I live down the hall from you! You’ve been dating her for a while now. WE ALL WORK TOGETHER.
Exactly! Pam, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you over text.
Well then when? Seeing as I just got back from your apartment and know you’ll be a little preoccupied tonight.
You talked to Karen?! Did you say anything?
Of course not.
I’m sorry, Pam. Can I talk to you later? I’m just about to walk in.
Fine.
I’m really sorry.
Pam slammed her phone shut and tossed it on the futon. All this time she had stupidly assumed that Karen had known what had happened and somehow was able to look past it. In fact, she had become decent friends with Karen over the last few months, despite the occasional pit in her stomach she felt whenever she saw her with Jim. Pam and Karen had even formed an alliance, as Dwight would say, against Angela at the Christmas party and often grabbed coffee together after work. They got along well, and Pam had always been impressed that her past with Jim didn’t turn Karen territorial or worried about Jim remaining friends with her. She admitted she was equally amazed that Karen didn’t hate her for breaking Jim’s heart. Now, however, she recognized she was just being hopeful and naive and that Karen was nothing more than simply in the dark. She may be Jim’s best friend, but right now Pam felt bad for Karen, a sliver of protectiveness peeking through the floorboards of the pedestal she had put Jim on in her mind.
Pam didn’t want to jeopardize what she and Jim had rebuilt in the last three months. She loved the spider killing, and the jar opening, and the nights they would spend in the hallway together brainstorming ways to torment Dwight. There had even been times where she thought he may still have lingering feelings for her, as she often recalled his little sister’s advice. If Jim told Karen about their past now, she was fairly certain that would crumble. But still, her conscience kept nagging and prodding at her.
So, understanding that she may be sealing her fate and damning herself to a lonely life in a tiny apartment with a beat up futon, she picked up her phone.
Please just tell her, Jim. Tonight. She deserves to know.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Takes place about three months after the dinner with Larissa.
Chapter End Notes:
Let me know what you think! :)
