Not a Bad Day

"Holy hell, Beesly! Have you taken up track & field in your spare time or something? I can hardly keep up with you."

"You've been trying to butter me up all morning. You think that, if you do this enough, I'll go downstairs and buy your breakfast?"

"Damn! Busted."

It felt good to be laughing together as Pam pushed the huge red button to enter the CCU. But, as the doors groaned their way slowly open, the pair immediately noticed a flurry of activity at Larissa's bed. Jim instinctively reached for Pam's hand as he rushed toward his mother's room.

As they reached the doorway, they spied Nelani. "Nelani! What's wrong? What happened?"

"No, Jim. Nothing's wrong. Your mom's being moved to 3 West. We knew this would happen. It was just a fluke that we had a bed free for a few hours and to keep your parents together. Your mom doesn't require critical care and we have a new cardiac patient who needs this bed."

Nelani continued, "Since there are two of you, you might want to split up so one of you is with each parent. I don't want to tell you what to do but – Pam does have a better understanding of cardiac issues. And your mom doesn't know about –" Nelani pursed her lips and gestured between the two of them. "As soon as she comes to is probably not the best time to break the news. Your dad'll be sedated for at least one more day. So maybe it would be better if Pam stayed up here this morning and you go with your mom to her new room."

Pam and Jim looked at each other and nodded in sad agreement. As pleasant as the morning had been, renewing their friendship wasn't the point of being there. At the outset, Pam had promised to do whatever Jim needed. Right now he needed to be with his mother and still know that he wouldn't miss any important information about his father's condition.

Nelani gently touched Jim's arm. "You don't need to go just yet. It'll take them a while to get everything together to move your mom."

Pam took a deep breath. "Hey, Jim, how about I run down and get us some breakfast? It'll give you a few minutes alone with your dad. Maybe we'll have time to eat before you have to leave."

Jim bit his lower lip and nodded. "OK."

Pam turned to Nelani, who was still standing between the two of them. "You want anything, Nelani?"

"No, Pam; I know you want to have breakfast together before Jim heads down. You just hurry back."

Pam surveyed the breakfast choices before her. Definitely something from the griddle – to Jim Halpert, hot food was comfort food. She'd seen it over and over though years of shared lunches. If Jim was having a rough day, he'd open a menu and announce, "I think I want something hot today." He probably wasn't even aware of the correlation but Pam had noticed.

So. No cereal.

The cook was setting out some freshly made ham, egg and cheese muffins. Perfect. Hopefully, it'd still be hot when he got to eat it. In fact, she'd get two. She liked the idea of having the same breakfast as Jim today.

She picked up a banana in case he got hungry later. Large coffee, splash of milk. She really couldn't fathom how he could drink anything this putrid shade of brown but he did it every morning. She made a hot tea and grabbed a yogurt for herself. Didn't matter what flavor. She probably wouldn't taste it anyway.

Balancing the tray, Pam made her way to the elevators. She wound her way through the halls, following the red trail to the CCU. As she entered the unit, she noticed that Mrs. Halpert's bed was empty and headed directly to Mr. Halpert's room. Jim was sitting alone with his father, looking relieved. It was the most relaxed she'd seen him look in days, actually.

"Hey."

Pam nodded her head in the direction of the rolling tray table by Mr. Halpert's bed. "Would you mind?"

Jim jumped to his feed. "Oh, sure! Sorry." He began to rearrange the flotsam that had accumulated on the tiny table as Pam patiently waited with the tray in her hands. As he worked, he began to speak quietly.

"So, Dr. Yazdani showed up from The Heart Group. She was really encouraging. She said they've taken dad off some of the meds –" Jim motioned to the IV poles, which were indeed less crowded. "And his blood pressure is stabilizing a bit. And," Jim continued with real excitement in his voice, "his ejaculation fraction has shown measurable improvement. In fact, it's approaching normal for a man his age." Jim dropped his voice even further, trying to emulate the doctor's somber tone of voice.

He looked over at Pam, motioning to the newly cleared spot on the tray table. "What?" She was openly laughing at him. Not just sharing his relief. No, she was barely holding on, suppressing her laughter only until – yep, there it was – until she set the tray on the table. Then both hands flew to her mouth and her eyes twinkled in delight as she doubled over with peals of laughter.

"What?" Jim repeated a bit more aggressively.

"His ejaculation fraction is approaching normal for a man his age?" Pam asked in a voice tremulous with repressed giggles.

"Yes. That's what she said."

Pam doubled over again with laugher. She bit her lip and asked, "So. How exactly do they measure this ejaculation fraction?"

Jim tilted his head questioningly at her.

"Do they pop in some ear buds, call a sex hotline and wait to see what happens?"

What the hell was she talking about?

"Jim! It's e-jec-tion fraction not e-jacula-tion fraction!" Pam was laughing so hard a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Oh my God." Jim flushed to the tips of his ears. "I'm never gonna live this down, am I?"

"Oh, no, Halpert. I'll hold this over your head as long as you live!" Pam wiped her eyes as she sat down. "Approaching normal for a man his age. That's what she said. Oh, man. I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard." She motioned to the tray table. "C'mon. Eat your breakfast while it's still hot."

Jim motioned between the two wrapped sandwiches, a question in his eye.

"Either one. They're the same."

Jim unwrapped a sandwich and bit into it as he sat down. "Oh. So good, Beesly. I was hoping you'd get me something hot but I forgot to mention it till you were already gone."

Pam shot Jim a shy smile. Her eyes looked happy, like she thought she'd accomplished something.

"Yes?" Jim drew out the question.

"I just – well – You always want something hot when you're stressed."

Jim studied her face. She looked genuinely proud that she got it right.

"I do?"

"Yep."

"I do not. I'm not that predictable."

As Pam bit into her sandwich, she laughed. "Oh, but yes, you are."

As she chewed, Pam gazed at nothing in particular. Jim could see in her eyes that she was visualizing, remembering. She set down her sandwich as she started counting on her fingers.

"That time you and Jon had the big fight and he wouldn't talk to you for like a week? Hot roast beef sandwich at the Dunmore Diner.

"The time you thought you lost your grandfather's pocket watch and didn't know what to say to your mom? Lasagna at Antonio's.

"The time you agreed to dog sit for your friend and the dog escaped for like two days? Meatloaf and mashed potatoes at the Keystone Diner."

Pam stared at Jim with a smug smile and three fingers extended. "Oh! How could I forget? Right before you moved in with Mark – when you were still living with that guy, Dave? His girlfriend had about moved in with you guys and every time you walked in the door they were half undressed, making out on the sofa? You kept saying you felt like a prisoner and you couldn't leave your room." Pam paused for dramatic effect. "A whole week of eating out and every day you said, 'I think I'll have something hot.' Your Monday lunch sat in the fridge the whole week."

Pam raised her eyebrows at Jim as she wriggled all the fingers on one hand and three on the other.

Jim laughed, "How the hell do you remember all this, Beesly?"

"Well, I was i–" Pam bit her lip. "You were my best friend. I just noticed these things." Pam was suddenly very interested in scrutinizing her breakfast sandwich and wouldn't meet his eyes.

Wow. Jim used to think You're my best friend was the worst thing Pam could ever say to him. But You were my best friend was orders of magnitude worse.

Without looking up, Pam leaned her shoulder into Jim's arm as she asked warmly, "So, do I impress and amaze you with my vast knowledge of all things Jim?" Her gesture and tone were enough to take the sting out of her previous comment.

"Absolutely. I can't believe you know all that."

"Well, I got the Trivial Pursuit: Halpert Edition and memorized all the answers." Pam paused as she looked directly into Jim's eyes. "I'd challenge anyone to prove they know more about you than I do."

Wow. Was she throwing down the gauntlet? That sure came across like I know you better than Karen does. No doubt about that. Not going there, though. Not today.

Pam was looking at Jim expectantly. Waiting for him to take up the challenge.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"More than my mom?" he deflected.

Pam jutted out her chin. "Maybe!"

Jim gave her a skeptical look. "Really."

"Ok, let's see. I know you use fabric softener."

"Well, yeah. You were with me when I bought some. That's not exactly a secret, Pam."

"Fine. I know you wear blue when you're happy and black when you're nervous.

"I know you don't play guitar as well as you'd like but you're spotty about practicing.

"I know basketball is your release when – things at work – get to be too intense. Someday you wanna coach your kid's basketball team – and it won't matter if it's the boys' team or the girls'.

"I know you like macaroni and cheese but only with ham.

"I know your iPod playlists mean something to you; they're not just collections of nice songs."

Pam leaned back and grinned at his look of amazement. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I speak truth, do I not?"

Jim shook his head wordlessly and laughed in disbelief. Sure, some of those things she could have observed; but a lot of it was conjecture. He'd never talked to her about guitar or basketball or his dreams about coaching his kids. He'd sure as hell never allowed her to see his playlists. What could he possibly say in response to that kind of flattery? And, since there was nothing she could say to top it, the two sat in contented silence.

Jim slid his chair to his father's side and reached through the rails to grasp his hand. It didn't feel as cold as it had yesterday. Jim's eyes swept the room. Down to two IV poles. Pulse ox 99 – of course, he was still on the ventilator, so maybe that was a given. He watched the blood pressure numbers for a few minutes; they hovered around 100/70. He guessed that was still low, but at least it was pretty steady, didn't vary by more than a few points up and down each time the numbers refreshed. That had to be a good sign, right?

Jim leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he felt relief wash over him. The day was going unexpectedly well. His mom was well enough that they couldn't justify keeping her in critical care anymore. She'd probably wake up soon and he could actually talk to her.

His dad seemed to be stabilizing. Jim's lips curled into a slight smile as he laughed at himself. His dad's ejaculation fraction was approaching normal for a man his age.

He'd woken up with Pam Beesly in his arms. And he'd learned that she had apparently studied him for years with the same devoted attention that he'd always given her.

It was only 8 a.m. and all this good news already. Not a bad day.