4
"So this is the phone," said Pam, pointing to it. "The little lights on the side show which phone in the office is being called. The little numbers next to the lights are the extension numbers. Sorry, am I going too fast?"
"No, I think I got it," replied Jill Beasley. "I did do a little secretary work in college."
"And you married your boss," giggled Pam with a smile, finishing the famous story. The two women looked at each other, then at Michael, who was trying to do a magic card trick and a Carlos Mencia comedy routine at the same time. Loudly. Instantly, the famous story was no longer cute and amusing.
"Um...when someone makes a call, you just press the little button next to the light and the number to patch the call through. I have a little card, right here-" Pam pulled out a faded, laminated card –"with everyone's names and extensions."
"Do I get to meet everyone now?" asked Mrs. Beesley.
"Yes," said Pam with a grin. She looked at Jim's desk before passing it by, going past the break room and to the back, starting with Ryan first. "This is Ryan Howard. He's working here as a temp and goes to business school. This is my mom, Jill Beesley."
"Very nice to meet you, Mr. Howard," said Mrs. Beesley with mom-ly modesty.
The sound of his named with a Mister at the beginning inspired the look of a man who had seen an angel.
"And you too, Ms. Beesley," he said, somewhat awestruck.
"This is Kelly Kapoor," said Pam, trying to think of thoughtful details. "Kelly's…got a lot of sisters and likes makeup."
"It's a pleasure, Miss Kapoor."
"Ahhahaha," Kelly laughed sweetly and loudly, to Ryan's embarrassment. "It's just Kelly, Mrs. Beesley."
"And this is Toby Flenderson. He works in Human Resources."
"Oh. Hello, Mr. Flenderson…"
"This is Oscar, Angela and Kevin…"
"Wow, you're really hot like Pam," said Kevin.
"Oh. Um. Thank you," said Mrs. Beesley, shooting a humored look at Pam. Pam bit her lip.
"Stanley, Meredith, and Creed…"
"You must be Patty's sister," said Creed, happily shaking her hand.
"I'm actually Patty's mother."
"Really. Can I interest you in coffee?"
"Patty's very married mother."
"Next lifetime, honey."
Pam blushed, embarrassed, while her Mom was slightly more graceful. Pam braced herself now as she went over to Dwight's desk.
"This is Dwight Shrute," said Pam a secretive smile to her mother. "Dwight, this is my mom."
"The hero!" her mother exclaimed enthusiastically. Dwight looked sternly at Pam before leaning closely to Mrs. Beesley.
"Mrs. Beesley, I believe your daughter has unrequited feelings for me and has therefore exaggerated my character. I am just a normal citizen that does what a good citizen does."
"Very noble, sir." Jill was smiling at Pam standing behind Dwight. Dwight, more than satisfied, sat down again with some measure of imagined dignity.
"And Andy. Andy went to Cornell," said Pam. Andy winked at Pam's mom.
"Yes. Yes, I did," he said, leaning back in his chair seductively.
"And this is Jim."
"Hi, Mrs.-" He started, leaning forward to shake her hand.
"And that's Phyllis and Karen, over there," interrupted Pam. "The three of them are in sales."
"It's nice to meet you," said Phyllis. Karen nodded with a semi-welcoming, awkward smile.
"Welcome to Dunder-Mifflin," Karen added.
"I think that's every-" said Pam as she led her mother back to the front reception desk.
"Well, what do we have here?" Michael boomed, coming out of his office, sauntering right up to them. "Pam 1 and Pam 2, with…their…shoes all blue."
Neither Pam's or Jill's shoes were blue, but Jill's had blue stripes on them.
"This is my boss, Michael Scott."
"I've heard so many things about you, Mr. Scott," said Mrs. Beesley. "So many, many things."
"Mr. Scott, Mr. Scott," he said deepening his voice and adopting a British accent. "Nobody here is a 'Mister' or a 'Mrs.' I'm just Michael, the Mikester. Whatever you like." Ryan the Temp was crestfallen, stripped of his 'Mr. Howard' title and any possible dignity associated with it.
"I'm Jill Beesley," said Mrs. Beesley.
An eerie calm settled over the office, completely unrelated to their conversation. The complete lack of caring and enthusiasm shared by all breathing humans in the office soon began to engulf the three conversing. Everyone who had just met Mrs. Beesley went back to whatever they had been doing, ensconced in their own little world. Whenever Pam felt a moment like this, she looked to Jim for inspiration; when Michael felt it, he crawled back into his office; for Jill, the choking dullness had the oppression factor of Stalin's Russia, as she was new.
Michael was back in his office, the blinds closed. Jill and Pam were both behind the counter. Pam looked up and saw Jim looking at her; she smiled at him briefly—not even watchful Karen had caught her this time.
"So…of course, the phone is not ringing all day long," said Jill in a low voice. "What work can we do?"
"Um. Let's see. There's a little paper pushing," said Pam, equally quietly. She looked at her inbox and there were three letters. She licked and stuck three stamps on them and put them in her outbox. "That's about it."
"So this is it?" asked Jill.
"Well, there's also, you know, Sudoku puzzles. I know a good website. Plus I haven't even told Jim about that one yet," said Pam with a grin. "This is the best site, you just pick which kitten is cuter."
She pulled up the site, and they went through four rounds of kitten war, arguing over the last and resolving with a draw when the phone rang.
"Go ahead," said Pam. She wrote on a scratch pad, Dunder Mifflin This is Jill.
"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Jill," said Pam's mom, flashing a thumbs-up to Pam. "Stanley…Stanley…" Pam pulled out the laminated card and pointed. "Let me put you through." Jill triumphantly pressed the extension button. A moment later she saw Stanley pick up his phone. She hung up.
"Well, that's not too difficult," she said in her same low voice. "Let's have a challenge."
"I think this is pretty much it," said Pam, looking around at the receptionist's desk.
"Really?" said her mom suprisedly, then sympathetically. "This is it?"
"Yeah," said Pam, a little defensively. "It's important though, you know. Everyone needs to have their phone calls."
The phone rang again.
"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Jill," said Mrs. Beasley.
"Mrs. Beasley, Jim Halpert. I'm about ten feet in front of you."
Mrs. Beesley let out a genuine laugh that disturbed the silence.
"And how are you, Jim?" she asked, grinning and resuming a library voice.
"Frankly, Mrs. Beasley," said Jim, deepening his voice. "I'm a little upset by your lax tone. This is Mr. Halpert to you, and we run a pretty tight ship around here, as Miss Beasley has clearly failed to inform you."
"Clearly. I'll have to reprimand her," giggled Mrs. Beasley.
"See that you do. Dunder-Mifflin has a zero-tolerance policy in regards to silliness and nonsense. Those caught performing illicit acts of tomfoolery first have their candy dish privileges and then their bathroom privileges removed."
"Thank you, sir. I'll have to remember that."
"Good work, Beasley. Carry on." Jim hung up.
The two women behind the counter had a mini-explosion of giggles several moments later, not unnoticed by another woman across the room.
Rarely did Jim ever go over to Karen's desk, because he usually had no inclination to talk to her more than he already did when she came over to his desk. However, she had been strangely silent all day. In the back of his mind, he noticed she was wearing a little more lipstick than normal, but the thought didn't register any meaning to him.
"How's it hanging, Fillipelli?" he asked, stretching his legs and leaning against her desk, his shoulders hunched slightly in guilt for he knew not what, nursing cup of coffee.
"Okay, I guess," she said. "Mrs. Beesley seems nice."
"Yeah, she'll be a good receptionist."
"Why is Pam training her to be a receptionist?"
"I dunno."
The answer was good enough for Karen, and it wasn't as if she wanted Jim to press Pam for info. Not that talking to Pam was bad or anything—although the pit of Karen's stomach said otherwise.
"I have so much e-mail today," Karen sighed, deleting spam left and right, as though she were shooting down Call of Duty enemies. "Interested in registering to win a free Foreman grill when you buy a big screen TV?"
"Not as much as getting a…an all-expense paid trip to see The Price is Right," read Jim from the subject lines of her e-mail.
"Here's one from my mom," laughed Karen. "I get these all the time. One of my second cousins is getting married and we've been invited to the wedding."
"Are you going to go?" asked Jim, sipping his coffee.
"Are you kidding? I have about fourteen thousand first cousins, and I have so many second cousins, Angela and Dwight are probably both my second cousins." The thought of Angela and Dwight being cousins was hilariously funny to Jim, but he stifled his laughter and the source of it. "And anyway, I'm sure I've never met them, except maybe once when I was eight. I'm not sure they're even on this continent. Oh wait, yup—see the address? The wedding's in Sicily."
"Wow," said Jim, widening his eyes. "Ever been to Sicily?"
"Once a long time ago," said Karen. She looked into his eyes gently, then down, then up toward the ceiling, trying to remember. "It's—unbelievably beautiful. The architecture, the hills, and everything's near the beach. It's the best place for a family bonding thing. My mother spent her grade school years there before coming to Connecticut when she was twelve. I have pictures of her swimming." She paused to dig them out of her desk.
Jim listened to her. It was times like these when Karen's defenses were low—when she wasn't being insecure, when she wasn't pushing him more than was really fun—and was being totally honest with him that he let himself believe he could be completely happy with her. He accepted for a good five minutes that she was more than almost perfect. Here he was like a mathematician, taking as a given that Pi was no more or less than 3.14, or that .9999 actually equaled one. He was content in that moment to round up for Karen.
But, as usual, when her attention was diverted, he let his eyes gaze up at Pam. She was looking happier than she had in a long time, smiling and joking with her mother behind reception. He let her smile get inside of him, thrusting out all darkness and ill thoughts. The strange warmth of his innocent observation turned his weary, stale heart to one that was refreshed and passionate again, throbbing with longing for its source. As he turned back to Karen quickly, he felt the guilt creep in as Karen, even at her best, slid back to an infinite .999 while Pam was still a solid one.