Chapter Four: Handle with Care.
When Pam emerged from Michael's office, there was an email from Jim already waiting for her.
What did that jackass have to say? J.
Nothing important. It's OK. P.
So, am I seeing you tonight? J.
Oh, I don't know. Emily is coming with me to Roy's place to help pick up more of my stuff. I don't know if I'll be up to doing anything. P.
Yeah, that's fine. Will you call me, though? J.
Yes. But Jim, we need to be really careful about this. I don't think we should be throwing this in Roy's face. He was really angry and I don't know how he'd react. Plus, I don't want to be the object of everyone's rumors in the office—especially Michael. Let's just be careful and try and act normal. J.
Absolutely. Oh, and by the way, did I mention how beautiful you look? J.
After reading his message, Pam looks up at Jim, smiles and rolls her eyes. They both try to act normal. Whatever that meant.
Jim and Pam were poor judges of what exactly "normal" was between them. After all, it was their normal behavior that everyone had read as flirting to begin with. Even Pam, who had watched with humor the pitiful attempts Dwight and Angela made to hide their relationship, didn't internalize the lesson: the only person you're fooling is yourself.
And the extraordinary effort with which the receptionist and the salesman attempted to stay away from each other and to avoid the temptation to visit each other's desks constantly (as they were known to do "normally") just ended up confirming the rest of the office's belief that they were indeed together and that their mutual absence the previous day had something to do with the demise of Pam's engagement.
Jim and Pam, however, thought themselves clever and thought their behavior allowed little room for office gossip.
In the early afternoon, the weekly delivery of office supplies from the warehouse was set to arrive. Pam was seized with dread since Roy was often the one that brought them up. She felt indescribable relief seeing Darryl instead. Nonetheless, she noticed that the usually friendly Darryl was curt with her and snapped the clapboard away while she was still signing for the shipment.
She didn't blame him, really. He was Roy's friend. It was only right that he would express anger toward Pam. Still, it was a reminder that she was the one that broke it off with Roy. And she hated ceding the high ground to anyone. She hated being the bad-guy. Jim was right about that. And at that moment, she really wanted Jim to comfort her.
A thought came to her. "Hey Jim, can you help me put this stuff away in the supply closet? I can never reach the top shelves."
Once they reached the closet and pushed the handtruck full of boxes inside, Pam closed the door and immediately grabbed Jim and started kissing him.
Jim moved away a little. "Wow, I'd like to see what would happen if we weren't being so careful."
"Save the talkin' for later, Halpert." They both laugh and make-out for a few seconds but then hurriedly put the supplies away to avoid suspicion. Nevermind that Jim had never been needed to help Pam do this before or that there was a step stool in the supply closet specifically for Pam to reach the top shelf.
That was at 1:35. At 2:20, Pam asked Jim to help her reach the red file folders at the back of the supply closet. Then, around 3:00, Pam asked Michael if he needed his desk supplies restocked. Michael, unused to such attention from Pam, gladly accepted her offer. Of course, the boxes of paper clips and the binder clips were quite heavy and buried deep on the top shelves. Jim's help would be needed. At 4:15, Pam decided to break down a lot of the cardboard boxes made empty by a busy day of restocking supplies. The packed boxes needed to go down to the recycling area. Could Jim help? Sure he could. They would have to take the freight elevator to the dumpster area. The freight elevator mysteriously got stuck between the first and second floors for about ten minutes.
Yes, they thought they were being clever and covert. With 15 minutes remaining in the day, Pam received an email from Jim.
Wow, the day went fast. J.
Well, you worked very hard. P.
Many more work days like this one and I may never retire. By the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look? J.
No, you haven't mentioned it. I'll call you tonight, OK? P.
What a difference a day made. When he arrived at work the previous day, he was filled with anxiety and fear. This morning, even his roommate eyed him suspiciously, noting how uncharacteristically joyful Jim was. Not a morning person himself, his roommate resisted the urge to the stab Jim in the eye with a fork.
Pam was already at her desk when he arrived. He gave a cursory glance at her and attempted to sound a perfunctory, completely neutral and totally not unusual "good morning." She responded as emotionlessly as she could in return.
An email already awaited Jim.
You know, the supply closet has never been organized well. We should try to rearrange it into alphabetical order. And if that doesn't work out well, then we can try color-coding all the supplies. And if we really get frustrated, we can lie down and . . .
Jim started to redden deeply.
Just then, Dwight came up behind Jim. "Question: how much are we charging a pallet of the new glossy paper?" Jim frantically closed the email window, lest Dwight, of all people, were to read that last sentence. Dwight noticed the panic and the harried attempt to hide the email.
"Jim, what are you hiding from me?" From her vantage at the reception desk, Pam went ashen.
"I'm not hiding anything, Dwight."
"Yes, you were. I saw you close your email window just as I walked up. Is it about me, Jim? Or Michael?"
"Actually, Dwight, I didn't want anyone to know about this, because it's a secret, but . . . since you're on to me . . . "
"Yes, I am Jim. I'm a volunteer deputy sheriff. I'm trained to notice shifty behavior."
"Look, a Nigerian princess who is going to have her wealth confiscated by her government has contacted me with an offer that if I give her access to my bank account, she'll put all of her money into it and, when she gets to America, we'll split it. So I didn't want you trying to get in on the deal." Pam lowers her head behind her computer terminal, trying to stifle her laughter.
"Oh, Jim. You're so naïve. That's a scam. It's lucky you told me about it or you'd wake up tomorrow with your bank accounts drained. You owe me."
"I sure do, Dwight. How will I ever thank you?" Jim looks to Pam as if to say "close call."
They decide to play things a little more coolly today given that brush with exposure. With no retreats to the supply closet or to the freight elevator possible, the day went much more painfully than usual, giving them a more realistic picture of how difficult having a covert office romance would be.
Forget for a moment that, saving Dwight, Michael, and a deliberately unconcerned Creed, their relationship wasn't very covert at all. In fact, for the majority of the office, the real surprise would be that making out is all Jim and Pam had done. Everyone assumed pretty much that they had had sex long before the official break-up between Pam and Roy. Some in the office had even imagined it a little too vividly for comfort.
But, again, Jim and Pam continued to live in a universe in which they believed their behaviors could be read by no one but themselves. It was an extension of the way they were before—assuming that their own affected behavior could cover their deeper feelings for one another—but now projected at the wider audience of the office. They didn't seem to understand that their own denial of the obvious was the product of deeply ingrained wishful-thinking and that their officemates simply didn't suffer the same neuroses that they did. Neuroses, God yes, but not the same neuroses.
For the first time, though, they realized what a long daily slog it would be to hide their growing physical relationship. Pam even felt a whiff of pity for what Dwight and Angela were themselves working so hard to keep private. And they didn't have a Roy to worry about. She did.
When she thinks it's safe, she emails Jim.
This is painful. P.
I know. More than I would have guessed. This brings up an important decision we have to make and I know you don't want to face it, but we have to tell Roy. J.
Oh, God, I know, but I just wanted like a month for him to cool down and adjust to things before I go and add salt to his wound. P.
Let's talk about this tonight. Dinner? My place? I know you wouldn't know it from my lunch sandwiches but I'm actually a pretty good cook. I'll make chicken parmesan. And you can stay over if you want. J.
Jim hesitated hitting the send button, not knowing whether the last sentence was over-presumptuous or too aggressive. But he did send it and he watched nervously to gauge Pam's reaction.
Chicken parmesan sounds great. P.
Jim would have liked more of a clue. But he and Pam have never been clear with one another in the past. Why would that change now?
