Good Intentions

"Hey, you still haven't found a frame for this." Jim nudged Pam's shoulder, forcing her to look at a painting on the floor of their garage, half-cloaked by a sheet.

"You don't frame canvases."

"Okay, but I didn't fail Art School."

"You didn't even go!" Pam's eyes were thoughtful, "We should put it up right now."

"Of course we should."

Pam scooped it up while Jim folded away the fabric.

"I don't know what to do with this." Pam announced when they finally returned home, wedding gifts in tow.

"You could go with Michael's suggestion." Jim joined her in staring at the painting she held.

"I am not going to hang it in the bedroom."

"We can say the baby painted it."

"Sounds impressive. Maybe if we wait until after it's born."

"Just trying to help."

"And then we would need to name the baby 'Michael'."

She pointed at Michael's signature in the corner, watching Jim give a comical shudder.

"I bet it looked amazing in his head." Pam said, suddenly feeling sorry, "I'm gonna make it how he imagined it."

Pam went to the cabinets in the back of the garage, returning with a stack of paint jars, several clean brushes, and a lavender apron, covered in painted handprints.

As she set it down, Jim tied her apron behind her back, brushing her hair out of the way. Pam immediately began mixing colors, right on the cement ground of the garage.

"So you're going to paint us?" Jim asked, sitting down to watch.

"Mmhmm."

"Should I bring dinner out or is this more of a popcorn thing?"

"What's dinner?" Pam began a border of gentle, sepia fleur de les, giving the canvas a vintage and royal aura.

"I could make... sandwiches."

Pam shook her head.

"Popcorn. With... parmesan cheese."

He nodded, lips folded, as he went inside.

When he returned with two separate bags of popcorn (his was unhampered by her spontaneous craving), Pam had started to paint his face.

"I look nothing like that."

She took the popcorn, glancing between her husband and her work for comparison.

"Yah, you do. I'm trying to give you a serious look, okay?"

He leaned closer and closer in to watch her.

"I wouldn't hang that in my bedroom either." He said jokingly.

"That's fine. I'll hang it in my own bedroom."

"Oh, you're gonna buy your own house too?"

"Stop it," she giggled, then, very seriously, "Let me work."

"That was really creepy."

"Shh!"

He was content to watch the madness unfold. If he would've brought out his video camera, he was sure he could've become famous.

Pam was sitting on the floor, shoveling grainy popcorn into her mouth with one hand. Every so often, she would keep a piece between her lips, staring so intensely at her project that she stopped moving completely. She was mixing her colors on the floor of the garage, occasionally forgetting to move her feet out of the way.

"Is this what all artists look like when they work?" Jim asked.

"Probably. Now don't look."

"Why not?"

"I'm adding the final touches. And I don't want you to complain."

He turned around; busying himself with a walk to the trash can, where he threw his empty popcorn bag.

For almost another hour, Pam perfected the 'final touches' while Jim faced the opposite wall.

"Okay." Said Pam, voice unsure.

Jim turned, expecting beauty. But even then, he was surprised.

"It's... perfect."

Since he last saw it, Pam had added their outfits: Pam wore her wedding dress and torn veil. Jim was in his suit, tie slashed diagonally up the middle.

The whole thing was tinted with hues of brown and grey, appearing antique. Both figures wore tight, reserved smiles, harkening to the days when only frowns were allowed in photographs. The themes had a quiet dispute, but Jim was not interrupted by it.

"Here," Pam gestured to the top corners of the artwork, "Hold it up so I can sign it."

He did so. Adding to the formally-informal appearance of the painting, she signed 'PBH', then carefully drew a slash through the 'B'.

Pam knelt and moved behind the painting. With her coal pencil, she wrote its title.

"Good Intentions." Read Jim, eternally impressed.

He set it down and, over it, they shared a hug.

Author's Note: Hey, if anyone is pretty good with Photoshop (or if they draw or paint, that would be even cooler!) and wants to try to recreate the picture, I'd pretty much love you forever. And I would write you a request :D
THANKS, as always!