Chapter Eight
They've fallen into a kind of routine. She'd drive up every weekend. He told her he'd drive to her but she liked Stamford. Jim suspected she liked that they were two hours away from her old life but he didn't bring it up.
When she arrived some nights Jim would whisk her off to dinner and some nights they'd miss dinner entirely. They've been able to slip into this so easily that they both agree it was a crime they'd wasted so much time.
One morning he walks into the kitchen and finds her crying, cereal spilling off the counter and onto the floor. Startled, he rushes over and pulls her close.
"You bought Cracklin' Oat Bran." She weeps into his shoulder.
He has no idea what was going on. He'd bought it because he knew she liked it. "Yeah…I thought you liked it." He pulls back and gazes into her eyes. "What's the matter?"
"No one's ever done that for me before. Paid attention to what I liked." She cries harder.
'No one' has become their euphemism for Roy. 'No one' used to not do a lot of things that made Pam happy. The more Jim finds out, the madder he gets for waiting so long to tell her how he felt. He can't stand the thought of her being so miserable for so long.
The fact that she'd gotten so worked up over breakfast makes him want to laugh. But he doesn't. Jim takes her into his arms again and whispers into her hair. "I'd have bought a case if I knew it'd make you this happy."
"You make me happy." She says with a watery smile as she reaches up to run a hand over his cheek. "You make me happy."
xoxoxoxo
He hangs up the phone and shakes his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Unbelievable. Jim turns to his computer and starts to type.
To: Pam Beesly
From: Jim Halpert
RE: Your health
Pam -
OK. What the hell is going on there? I did not just get a phone call from Michael reminding me that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and asking if last weekend I'd had a chance to check you out and if so are you OK.
Seriously. Please tell me that did not just happen.
Apparently he's very concerned about your health - as am I - so I guess this weekend I should conduct a thorough examination. You know, just to put Michael's mind at ease.
How are things there? Anything else exciting going on? Tell me everything.
I'm bored out of my mind. How many more days until I see you again? You don't need to answer that. I already know it's too many.
Love you,
Jim
He hits send and then takes a phone call. In the middle of his conversation his email chimes. He is already laughing as he hangs up the phone and opens it.
To: Jim Halpert
From: Pam Beesly
RE: YOUR Health
JIM.
If you continue to send me messages that discuss my breasts and include the name "Michael" you will have a tough time getting your hands anywhere near any part of my anatomy. Not to mention what I'll do to you.
Consider yourself warned.
He's been hovering all day, trying to get me to spill all the details about us. How does he do it? How does he even know we're together now? I sure didn't tell him; hmmm…unless someone from the crew let something spill? Or could it be Jan? That's probably how it happened.
By the way, he LOVES Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Next Friday is National Denim Day and he bought himself a new pair of Levis.
Wait - it gets better. They're distressed. With a rip in the knee. It's killing me. I can't keep a straight face.
Oh my God. Dwight came in today wearing a biohazard suit. Someone left something in the fridge that went rancid and he's conducting experiments. Where you ask? In the men's bathroom. You should see poor Kevin. I know I'll regret it but I took pity on him. I stood watch and let him use the ladies room.
When people see this documentary they are going to think the entire thing is staged. It's so sad and oddly fascinating that every minute is true.
I still can't believe there aren't people like this in the Stamford Office. I'll have to judge for myself. If it's true how do you deal with the monotony day after day?
As for when you'll see me I'm driving up Friday after work. I hope the traffic isn't bad. If it is you'll just have to call and entertain me.
And I'm warning you - clean out that closet because I'm bringing a few boxes with me.
I'm serious Jim. I know you haven't even started to put that stuff away. I don't want to have to waste time this weekend sorting through all that junk.
OK. Enough nagging. See what happens when you ignore me? I become this harpy housewife and I hate it. Do us both a favour and unpack before I get there. Pretty, pretty please?
Now - stop imagining me topless and go back to work.
Love you too.
xox
Pam
His head is spinning at the image she leaves him with. Wow. She does not play fair. He's getting ready to reply when he sees someone standing in his doorway.
"Becky."
He doesn't like the look on her face. He feels guilty again as he gazes over at her. "What's up?"
"I have to talk to you." She says as she shuts the door and sits down at the chair across from him.
"Sure."
She's not sure how to start. Ever since Jim's resolved things with Pam he'd been a completely different person. His eyes are full of life and he actually whistles as he walks through the office. She can't even be angry anymore because it's so obvious that they belong together. And now, she feels like the grim reaper, raining on his parade.
"I - umm. I probably shouldn't be doing this but I overheard something and it affects you. I just thought I'd give you a head's up." She says softly.
His brow wrinkles with worry. "OK."
Becky meets his eyes as she says slowly. "They're going to ask you to go back to Scranton."
"What?" His mouth drops open.
"They need someone there to boost sales. You've done too good a job here and you know the area. They're going to ask you to transfer back." She replies. "Please. I shouldn't be telling you this. Just act surprised when they do OK?"
Jim can't believe it. Pam was moving here in a week. They were going to rearrange the apartment; she had been scouring catalogs for new curtains. He'd planned this whole romantic night for when the day she moved in.
"I can't do that. Pam is…" He trails off, still a bit uncomfortable talking to Becky about her.
"I know. She's starting here in two weeks. I'm sorry…" She says as she stares in her lap. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she means it.
Pam's internship is for five months. He already couldn't stand being away from her for five minutes let alone until the spring. He'd waited so long to be with her he didn't want to spend one more day apart than they had to.
Scranton? Really? They were going to make him move back there? And what would be different - besides the fact that they'd now have the opposite problem. Pam would be in Stamford and he'd be in Scranton - still two hours apart.
He couldn't ask her to give up her internship. He wouldn't even dare to. She deserved it. She had so much talent and he could not get over the look on her face when she was drawing. She'd begun to bring her sketchbooks with her when she visited him. He'd never seen her so happy.
Jim is roused from his thoughts as he hears Becky stirring. She smoothes the fabric of her skirt as she stands. "I guess you have some stuff to think about."
Jim leans an elbow on his desk and covers his mouth with his hand, "Yeah. I guess so."
As she starts to leave he calls out after her. "Hey…Becky?"
She turns back slowly. "Yeah?"
"Thanks." He says softly. "For…everything."
"You're welcome." It's odd that so few words have such an effect but she feels better than she has in weeks. Before today she'd been dragging her feet but she's suddenly excited at the prospect of the date she has tonight with the bartender. She turns back again and smiles widely. "Be happy Jim."
As she walks off he stares at his computer, the witty reply he'd planned for Pam is lost to him now. He sits there and murmurs to himself. "I'm trying to be."
