Nine forty-two and he still isn't there. She can't blame him, of course. If I were leaving for Australia tomorrow, I wouldn't show up for work either. Hell, I'm getting married on Saturday. What am I even doing here.
Nine forty-three. And why do you want to see him anyway? He's leaving and he doesn't want to see you. And even if he does show up, like today is going to be any different from yesterday, or the day before, or the day before.
Forty-four. This is silly. Looking for distractions, she sees the green teapot on her desk. She reaches over and picks it up, feels the weight of it in her hands, polishes the finish with the end of her shirt sleeve, takes a peek inside. It's empty.
Forty-five. A watched pot never boils. With new resolve, she gets up from her desk and heads towards the kitchen, teapot in hand. And as she makes her way across the room, she can't help but daydream a bit, about the Christmas party and the iPod and the look on his face…. I traded with Dwight. Um, just, I figured, you know, you went to a lot of trouble and that means a lot….
And about how she sheepishly tried to cover herself…. And also, Roy got me an iPod, or, uh, was going to get me an iPod, so….
And as she walks into the kitchen, about the yearbook photo and the Boggle timer and she doesn't even see Ryan turn around until the teapot is halfway to the floor. And her daydream shatters apart too. "Oh!"
Ryan looks at her for a moment, then at the ground, and then back at her. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," he says and bends down to pick up the pieces. She stands there in shock for a moment before she comes to her senses and helps.
"Oh no, it's my fault. I was just, I wasn't paying attention." Stupid, stupid! With four or five pieces in hand, Ryan looks around for the trash can. She reaches under the sink and pulls out a brown paper bag. She shakes it open and sets it down on the ground. He puts the pieces inside.
"I'll buy you a new one, how about that?"
"No, that's all right. I can probably find another one."
"No, please, I insist."
"No, really, it's fine." It wouldn't be the same anyway. She hopes he can't tell that she's fighting back tears.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry about it." She feigns brushing a lock of hair away from her face in order to wipe some moisture from the corner of her eye. They finish putting the pieces in the bag. He apologizes one last time and holds the door for her as she heads back to her desk with it.
It's Jim. Oh no, why couldn't you have gotten here five minutes ago? She tries to hide the bag behind herself as she approaches him.
"Hey, Pam."
"Hey." Don't ask about the bag. Don't ask about the bag.
"What's in the bag?"
"Oh, nothing." Pause. "Just trash." If only.
"All right then." Can he tell that she's lying? Somehow he can always tell. She hopes he doesn't press it. She changes the subject.
"I thought you might not show today."
"What, and miss another riveting day of paper sales? Why else would I be here?" A beat passes.
He goes to sit down, but she nervously blurts out, "Hey, so Roy's bachelor party is tonight."
"Oh really? Funny, I don't remember getting an invitation." He cracks half a smile and she returns the other half.
"Yeah, so I'm gonna be all alone tonight. And since, you know, you're going on vacation, I thought maybe we could have a little going away dinner, huh? I'll let you pick the restaurant, anywhere but Chili's," she says with an expectant smile.
"I'm really sorry, I can't." Pause. "I've still got all this packing to do. You know."
He's making excuses. He doesn't want to see you. Of course he doesn't want to see you. "Well, maybe if you need a hand picking out vacation clothes?" What are you doing? "You know, it's winter in Australia now, so the Bermuda shorts may not be so appropriate."
He laughs briefly and responds politely, "Really, thanks for the offer, but I think I'll be okay."
"Okay then. I'd better get back to work." She tries to slink back to her desk quietly, but she stumbles a bit and the bag clatters. She turns around briefly to see if he noticed, but he doesn't look up. She puts the bag down underneath her desk and gives him another glance. He still doesn't look up.
Oh, Pam, what are you doing? Stop being ridiculous. Why would he want to spend time with you outside of work? He's not even coming to the wedding. You're obviously not as close as you thought, or as you had hoped, or as you were once? Well, who needs him? You're engaged, for heaven's sake! You'll always have Roy. Always. Well, except during the day. And some nights. Like tonight.
She looks down at the broken teapot and sighs. Why weren't you holding it tighter? Why weren't you paying attention? She can hardly remember. No, you shouldn't blame yourself. It was Ryan. He was the one who bumped into you. It's his fault. It's all his fault….
Suddenly there's a loud clang, and she's startled back to her senses. No it isn't. It's my fault. This whole thing is my fault. She looks at the teapot again. God, I'm so stupid. What am I going to tell Jim? He'll be crushed…. She glances over at his desk again, but he isn't there. Her eyes sweep across the office for a second, and then she sees that he's been accosted by Kelly in the kitchen. He talks to her more than he talks to you, and he doesn't even like her. What does that tell you?
Get a grip, Pam! You're going to drive yourself crazy! You shouldn't be this upset. You're just nervous about the wedding. Yes, that's it. Don't worry about Jim. She glances over at his desk, but he's not back yet. You're marrying Roy and everything will be fine. Sure, Roy's not perfect, but neither is Jim, he can't be, nobody is. God, you shouldn't even be thinking about this….
Maybe I can fix it. Sure, a little bit of glue and it'll be good as new. I'll do it tonight when Roy is out. Jim will never know the difference. It'll be easy. I'll just bring it in tomorrow and he'll see it, well, he'll see it once he gets back and he'll never know how stupid I was. And everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everything will be….
"Hey, babe. Lunch?" Already?
"Sure."
As she and Roy are about to walk into the kitchen, she takes a quick glance at Jim. He's looking right at her. She's about to stop for a moment, but then as Roy starts to turn around she decides to keep going.
She takes an especially long lunch, staying in the break room even after Roy has gone back to work. Jim doesn't show up.
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Five twenty-four and everyone has left except for her and Jim. She's glad that he hasn't noticed that she's been looking at him for half an hour. Finally, he grabs his things and heads towards her desk.
"Heading out?" She tries to look busy.
"Yup," he says curtly. "So, Beesley, I guess I'll see you in a couple weeks." But I won't be Beesley in a couple weeks.
"Yeah." Pause. "Hey, so are you sure you don't want to get dinner?" What are you doing?
He pauses for a moment. Then he shrugs and gives her a look that she's only seen once before. "I can't, I'm really sorry."
What was the point of that? "That's okay, I understand." No you don't. Pause. Say something clever. "But you have to promise to teach me the didgeridoo when you get back."
He gives a short laugh and smiles. "Fine. But only if you can convince Dwight that it's a kangaroo mating call."
"Deal." Pause. Is that it? "All right, have a good trip."
"Bye." He gives her a wave and smile and heads towards the door.
Is that it? No, it can't be, can it? You have to do something. He turns the corner. You have to stop him! Just get him back! Do it! Hurry up! What are you waiting for? Just….
"Hey, Jim?" she calls out. There's no answer. A beat passes.
"Jim?" she says softly. Another beat passes.
She begins to tear up and covers her face with her hands. Oh God, oh God, oh God… What is wrong with you? How could you… Why didn't you… Now what are you….
"Pam." He says it softly. She looks up and suddenly can't imagine a happier moment. She wipes away her tears and he just stands there, watching her. Finally, she barely manages to compose herself.
"Jim, I…I have to tell you something." He doesn't say anything. A long pause. "I…" He still doesn't say anything. Just say it. Say it! Oh, if only he'd kiss me right now so I wouldn't have to! Why won't he? Say it, damn it, say it! Say it! "I…"
He still doesn't say anything.
"I…" Tell him you love him. Tell him you can't live without him. Tell him you're sick of Roy. Tell him…tell him… "I broke the teapot…." What? "It…it was an accident…. I… I…." Who cares about a stupid teapot? Why didn't you…how… She's never felt so horrible about herself in her life. As the tears stream down her face, she tries to turn away, run to the back, cover her face, anything to get away. But he has her hand clasped in his, and she's forced to stay.
She can barely think straight. Is he saying something? "...just a teapot… Pam… sorry… just a teapot… Australia… when I go--"
"Please…don't," she blurts out. "I…" Silence.
They stare at each other for fifteen seconds, and then she says quickly, "I'm sorry, Jim." He releases her hand, and she runs to the bathroom. He doesn't follow her.
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By the time she's ready to leave, the sun's already hanging low in the sky. She grabs her stuff, including the paper bag, and heads outside. Momentarily disoriented, she looks around, trying to remember where she parked. Then she sees the car in a lonely corner of the parking lot. All right, Pam, relax, pull yourself together. Everything will be fine. Resolved, she spends a brief moment straightening out her clothing, takes a deep breath, and then heads towards the car as casually as she can manage. As she passes a garbage can, she unceremoniously tosses in the broken teapot. She wouldn't have been able to use it again anyway.