A/N: Hey everyone, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you that have been reading and those that have reviewed. Always wonderful to hear from you and I'm glad people seem to be enjoying the story. I hope you like day three as much as day two!
Day 3: Pam's POVBuzz, buzz, buzz, buzz… I slammed my hand on the snooze button like I had twice before and curled up tighter under the blanket. The shade was up, but the sun hid behind an overcast sky, making it harder to reconcile getting out of bed. I had been lost in a hazy dream before the alarm sounded and I very much wanted to return. Instead, with one last squeeze of my pillow, I rose and swung my legs over the bed. As I stretched, I realized it wasn't a dream I was holding on to; it was a memory.
…I couldn't remember the last time I had been kissed like that. I wasn't sure I had ever been kissed like that. I thought of Roy and even at his most enthusiastic, he never held the passion I felt in that kiss. But I pushed Roy from my mind and concentrated on the man that stood before me. The one whose hands I could feel sliding around my waist, along my arms until they rested in my own hands. The one whose body so close to mine was overwhelming me, until I felt drunk with desire. The one whose eyes stared deeply into my own awaiting an answer. But I couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone speak…
I slipped my feet into my slippers, pulled myself out of bed and wobbled into the bathroom. After doing my business, I went to the tub and turned the knobs. The water squirted out of the showerhead, steam quickly rising in the room. I pulled off my tank top and shorts, letting the cold air touch my skin for only a moment before jumping into the shower. I stood still, letting the water pour over me, the memory on constant replay.
…His voice broke first, barely a whisper. "I've wanted to do that all day," he admitted, an ecstatic, hopeful grin spreading across his lips.
"Yeah," I breathed, giving him a light smile in return, though my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. My hands trembled in his, my palms sweatier than I could remember…
I finished my shower, grabbing the white cotton towel that hung on the hook next to the curtain and wrapping it around my body. I then struggled with the tangled cord of my blow dryer. The humidity in the air made it more difficult than usual to tame my wild hair, but eventually I was able to tease it back into a barrette like I had always done. When I had finished, I took a moment to stare into the mirror. Despite the dark circles that ran underneath my eyes, I looked the same as I had yesterday. I only felt different. That was my own fault.
…I stared up at him, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. He grasped my hands tighter as he pulled me in again, his face slowly inching towards mine, causing my heart to race. I could feel his breath on my cheek, watched his eyes close as our lips nearly met for a second time.
Then, like an anvil, reality set in. It was too much. I felt too much. Desire mixed with fear. Curiosity mixed with confusion. The pull of wanting to stay in this intoxicating moment versus the push to run away to what I knew was safe. I was unable to grasp onto one emotion and until I could figure the uncertainty out, I couldn't let this continue, even if I wanted to…
I got dressed quickly, mindlessly picking out the same outfit that I had worn for years. My monotonous routine hadn't changed. Even through my divorce, mornings were always the same, always like this. The festival had given me a reason to look forward to the day, but this morning felt like the others. No, it felt worse. I chided myself for not knowing what I wanted. I had tossed and turned all night, trying to figure it out, but no definite answer came and here I was, moving around as if it were any other morning.
…I backed away and his eyes settled on mine once again, only instead of a joyful eagerness, they filled with sadness. I believed he tried to hide the devastation underneath a weak smile, but his emotions, so much clearer than my own, shown through. He gently released my hands, letting them drop to my sides.
I took the opportunity to break from his gaze, dipping down to retrieve my keys. "I should probably-"
"Alright," he said, not wanting me to do any more damage. He paused only a moment before whispering a simple, "Good night, Pam." His eyes tore away from mine and became glued to the ground as he turned away.
"Good night, Jim," I replied, a strange sense of sadness washing over me as I watched him walk away. I was the one that wanted so much to run and yet there I stood, long after he left, wondering…
I had enough time before I had to be at work that I could make breakfast. I wasn't that hungry but I fried up an egg and some bacon to force myself to eat. The bacon I ended up burning while lost in my thoughts, therefore having to throw it out. I washed the egg down with some orange juice and then went on to brush my teeth, leaving the dishes to lie around the kitchen. It would give me something to do when I returned home.
As I was finishing up getting ready, doing my make-up and putting on my shoes, the tiny buzz of my cell phone sounded. For a second I was hopeful that it was Jim, although I still had no idea what I would say. I hurriedly grabbed for my phone, which resided in its typical place next to my purse, but my heart sunk when I saw my past, once again, coming back to haunt me. Roy. Ignoring the ring, I put the cell into my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Roy could wait another day.
I headed out to work early, figuring I could help set-up for the day's events, a distraction I would gladly take. I locked the door and quickly headed out to the bus stop. When I hit the front porch, I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and reliving that one perfect moment. But then my face fell, remembering that all I had now was a memory.
* * *
Jan called us all into a meeting. It was darker and colder than it had been yesterday and I knew she feared that it would have an effect on the turnout. The big community dance started this afternoon, which was one of our biggest attractions this week. If the dance wasn't successful, it would be a big blow to our goal. Jan didn't hesitate to emphasize the importance of our actions.
"Yesterday was a success," Jan told us, smoking her typical morning cigarette. She looked more tired than I felt. "Our attendance was higher than the previous day, but we have to be diligent. We are far from our goal, so while you're working today, remind everyone about our events tonight and the rest of the week. Alright, let's get to work."
Her pep talk was less enthusiastic than usual, but none of us looked as though we were having a good time. Michael was unusually quiet and I wondered if something more had happened between he and Jan last night. Oscar's face remained scowling. Angela kept throwing me vicious looks, probably because yesterday I had left her to pick up nearly the entire park on her own. I had no idea where Phyllis was, but she didn't have the day off, which probably annoyed Angela even more. Ryan looked defeated with Kelly clung to his arm. Only Kelly looked to be in good spirits as she beamed at Ryan.
We split up, all of us heading out to decorate the park for the community dance before we opened. I was set to work on the pavilion but before I did so, I took a detour over to the tent at the east end where the judging competition was to be held.
Every year the festival had an art competition. A judge would come, usually an art critic from Philadelphia or another large city, and choose which pieces he or she liked best. The grand prize was usually a good chunk of money and a chance to get their art featured at one of the galleries that helped sponsor the festival.
There was always a theme for the competition; this year it was self-portraits. I had never been overly confident with my artwork but the piece I had entered, a simple pencil drawing of myself based of a photograph, made me so proud that I decided I would enter it. It wasn't about the prize money, but instead was about putting myself out there, exposing myself to the world; something I rarely do.
The drawing was a nude self-portrait. I sat with my back facing the viewer so that the drawing did not reveal too much, but you could still see the slight curve of my breast. My legs were curled up beside me, my head turned over my shoulder and facing down, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. One arm was bent down, a hand resting on the space next to my bare hip; the other arm lay on my thigh. I had drawn it right after my divorce, trying to express how the changes in my life had affected my physical appearance. The woman I saw on the double weight, cold pressed paper was melancholy, depressed even, maybe not too far from what I felt now.
I glanced around examining the other portraits, most of them far more detailed than mine, with more advanced techniques used in their process or a richer display of colors. I didn't feel I had a chance at all to win anything and part of me wanted to take it away from all the rest but I let it be.
After I had finished making sure everything was set up for the judging, I made my way back to the pavilion to start putting up decorations. We had white and silver streamers, each with silver and blue bows attached to string up amongst the four pillars of the pavilion. I was up on a ladder, wrapping the streamers around one of the pillars when Kelly, who tried to restrain her joyful demeanor, came bouncing over.
"Wow, Pam," she stated as she glanced around the pavilion. There were balloons and streamers everywhere. "You've really gone all out for this, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess," I said. Working was better than thinking. "I just, you know, wanted to make sure everything was ready for today. I mean, you heard Jan, we have to make it perfect, so, no harm in making it look festive." I changed the subject without looking down at her. "You look cheerful today, what's up with you?"
I should have known better than to ask. "Oh nothing," she cooed. "Oh, wait everything! Ryan finally, finally called me his girlfriend and in front of all his friends, which is totally amazing because I've been calling him my boyfriend forever and he's never called me his girlfriend ever, especially around his friends, but last night he did when some guy was hitting on me and I could have totally hooked up with him and I thought about it too, but Ryan was being extra sweet, but he was also really drunk..."
Only part of me paid attention to Kelly's rambling as I continued to wrap the streamer around the pillar. At least now I knew why Ryan looked so out of it. I had guessed that Kelly kept him up nearly all night. I placed a piece of tape on the streamer and tore the end off the roll, but instead of climbing down I continued to stare at the streamer, lost in my own thoughts.
"Pam!" Kelly pushed on the ladder, rocking it and making me lose my balance. I clung to the pillar for support, irritated that she could have caused me to break my neck. "What's wrong with you today, you're walking around here like a zombie and putting way too much effort into this thing."
"Nothing's wrong," I lied as I climbed down the ladder. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
Kelly eyed me suspiciously. "Oh, that reminds me. What is the deal with that reporter?"
"What?" I stammered, my cheeks flushing.
"You both said that my name would be in the paper today and when I picked up a copy I did not see my name anywhere," she complained. "I didn't even see an article on the festival."
I stared at her, completely shocked. "There wasn't an article?"
"No," Kelly continued, "and I think I'm going to lodge a formal complaint to the editor because there's no reason that my interview shouldn't be in the paper. It would serve that lame reporter right to get fired for not including my name."
"Hey," I said sharply, surprising myself over my automatic defense of Jim.
"Oh please, Pam," Kelly said rolling her eyes. "Couldn't you tell that the only reason he stuck around was to follow you all day? It was so pathetic. I would never be that pathetic over a guy. He even told me he was into you but I set him straight, told him you weren't even interested."
"Wait, what?" I cut in. "When did you and Jim have a talk about me?"
Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, like, some time yesterday."
"Well, what did he say?" I asked eagerly.
"I don't know," Kelly replied, not seeming interested in the conversation. "But it was so obvious, the way he kept looking at you. I totally set him straight though."
"Oh, Kelly," I groaned.
"Come on Pam, he is so not your type," she insisted. "I already have a guy for you, remember? That frat boy friend of Ryan's I mentioned I set you up on a blind date with. He is totally coming out today by the way. Ryan and I are so excited about the double date!"
I wished she hadn't changed subjects so fast but I knew that Kelly had a one-track mind. "I am not going on a blind date," I told her firmly. She had been pushing this for months and even without the complication that Jim added, I had no intention of being set up by Kelly.
"Yes, you have to," Kelly whined. "He's coming out today and you promised."
"I don't remember promising anything," I replied.
"You'll love him," Kelly said, "he sings and did his undergrad at some fancy ivy-league school, I forget which one. And he's funny. I've only met him once but he seemed like a cool guy."
"No Kelly," I said, not needing another headache.
Kelly stomped her foot on the ground and put her hands on her hips. "Why are you being so difficult? It's been, like, what? Months since you've gotten divorced and you haven't even tried going out with anyone. Do you want to end up an old maid? Because that's what's going to happen if you don't go out on this date."
"I'm not going to become an old maid," I said, feeling that she was being overly dramatic about the whole thing.
"You are too," Kelly said, waving a dismissive hand at me before turning to leave. "You know, you always talk about finding yourself and all that crap. Well, that's nice and all, but one day you're going to be incredibly lonely and you'll wish you didn't push such a great opportunity away."
I said nothing as she made her way off the pavilion. I remained staring at the cement, contemplating her words.
* * *
Jan and Michael came by, not noticing that I was blowing up balloons, as they seemed to be continuing the fight they had yesterday. While none of us knew what had been going on between the two of them before yesterday, now that their relationship was in the open it seemed so obvious that they had been dating all along. And now that they had broken up, they felt no need to conceal their arguments.
"…tell me what I did wrong, Jan, just tell me," Michael was saying as they passed behind the north end of the pavilion. The stage blocked their bodies from my view and all I could see were a couple of bickering heads.
Jan stopped in her tracks. "How many times do we have to go over it?" she asked, throwing up her hands. "You make my life miserable. Isn't that clear enough for you? Yes, we had good times and I don't regret it, but…" She rubbed her forehead, clearly out of answers.
"I fell out of a tree for you..."
"I didn't ask you to do that."
"And I sang for you…"
"Michael, you're about to lose your job."
Michael looked as if he were about to cry. "You have hurt me greatly, Jan."
"Oh stop being so dramatic," Jan shot out.
I thought that Michael would have more to say, he always had more to say, but instead he gave Jan a crushed look and hurried back in the direction they had come from. Jan only shook her head and continued forward. I blew up another balloon and tied it, thinking I wasn't the only one having a rough morning.
Busying myself with work, I was able to have the whole pavilion decorated just as the festival opened. The wind didn't help with every gust knocking down a balloon or unsticking a streamer, but my perseverance won out and the community dance was all set up. Unfortunately, it wouldn't start for hours, leaving me with nothing to do until the band arrived.
I had seen most, if not all, the artwork at the festival, so I strolled down to the booths to see what the venders were selling today. Angela was there again selling little trinkets but she gave me such an unwelcoming stare that I avoided her table all together.
Not far from Angela's table, I saw the booth with all the purses and the redhead that was selling them. The gnawing sensation that I got in my stomach every time I saw her returned as I watched her gracefully chat with a customer. I contemplated if he had ever kissed her the same way he kissed me last night and I closed my eyes, reliving the memory.
A young boy chasing after a little girl accidentally rammed into me, knocking me off balance as well as bringing me back to the present. I decided I wasn't going to dwell on it any longer, so I placed the memory in a little box in my mind and pushed it away.
I continued to walk around, eventually coming to a booth where a woman not much older than me was selling hand made t-shirts. I browsed a bit until I found a blouse that I had really liked. The design was a simple v-neck. It was a deep red cotton material with a few ruffles on the sleeves and collar. I pulled it off the rack to examine further and when I found that it was only five dollars, I went to the woman sitting at the cash register and paid for it. The woman mentioned that it would look beautiful on me but I felt as though she said that just to be polite. I thanked her anyway.
Satisfied with my impulse buy, I took it out of the bag to look it over once more. I placed it across my body to see how it would fit and wondered what Jim would think if he saw me in it. I shoved it back in the bag in an attempt to squish that thought from my mind.
Not long after I spotted Kelly heading my way. I wanted to avoid her after our conversation earlier and ducked behind one of the tables, but she saw me anyway and screamed out my name. I waved, knowing that if I didn't acknowledge her she would assume I was ignoring her and I would never hear the end of it.
"Pam, what did you buy?" she asked immediately, poking at the plastic bag I was carrying.
"Oh, nothing," I said, not really wanting to hear Kelly expounding on my wardrobe choice. She once gave me a twenty-minute lecture about the shoes I wore.
"Come on, Pam, we're like best friends at work and you have to show me because that's what best friends do," she said. I shuddered at the best friend comment, but knew if I didn't indulge her it would make the situation worse, so I pulled out the blouse. "Oh my god," she gushed, "It's so beautiful. You should totally, totally wear that when you meet your date this afternoon! You have to try it on right now and so I can see how it looks."
"I don't know, Kelly," I responded, unsure. The blouse wasn't my typical style and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to try it on for anyone yet.
"You so should," Kelly said giggling, "It'll be like a mini-fashion show." She began to chant 'fashion show' repeatedly until I gave in and found myself walking with her to the bathroom.
In no time I had changed into the blouse. It was tighter than I had expected it to be and a bit more revealing than what I normally would wear, but it felt fresh and new, which was rejuvenating.
I nervously walked out to where Kelly was waiting but the minute she saw me she began to rave. "Oh my god, that looks amazing on you, Pam! Really it does. It's so much better than those ratty old striped things you insist on wearing. You look totally hot in that."
I usually take Kelly's compliments with a grain of salt, but the blouse did feel more comfortable than what I was originally wearing so I thought I should, for once, take Kelly's advice and wear it for the rest of the day.
I placed the old shirt into the bag and told Kelly I was going to put it away with my other stuff. The staff has a personal tent where we can keep our belongings, which has someone to watch over it at all times. Kelly claimed she had other things to do, so we went our separate ways.
As I walked down the path to the staff's tent, I noticed a couple of older men in business suits watching me. At first I thought there might be something wrong with me, like a snag in my panty hose or I something stuck to the back of my shirt but as they continued to watch as I walked by, I realized they were checking me out. Feeling uncomfortable under their stares, I crossed my arms over my chest. I considered going back and changing, but I didn't feel like switching shirts again, so I decided to just deal with it.
Inside the tent, Oscar sat on a chair in the corner doing some paper work and Jan sat against a table, smoking and reading the newspaper. I came in and placed the bag next to my purse, both of them so engrossed in their activities that neither one noticed me.
"Are you kidding me?" Jan snarled before taking another long drag on her cigarette. I paused, thinking she was talking to me, but she hadn't looked up from the paper.
"Um, Jan," I said, not sure if I should disrupt her, "is everything alright?"
Her head shot up. "What? Oh, it's just that—" she stopped and threw the paper down on the table in disgust. "Ed Truck is dead."
"No!" I heard Oscar comment from the corner.
"Uh, who is Ed Truck?" I asked.
Jan threw her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "Oscar, come on, I think we have to make a few phone calls. Grab an aide to watch the tent." Oscar nodded, jumping out of his seat.
"Jan?" I asked again.
"I can't explain now," Jan snapped. She picked up the paper and threw it over to me. "Oh, and next time you have a reporter come and claim they're doing an article for the paper, make sure they actually write one."
I unfolded the paper as Jan and Oscar raced out of the tent. I scanned every page. Jan and Kelly were both right, there wasn't even a mention of the festival. I skimmed through the paper again, making sure I didn't miss something, but Jim Halpert's name was no where to be seen. I did recognize Stanley Hudson on the byline of one of the sport's pieces. I leaned against the table where Jan had been previously and thought the lack of an article might actually have something to do with me.
* * *
An aide came to replace me not long after Jan and Oscar left, so I continued roaming around the park, glancing again at artwork that I had already seen. I smiled when I came across the piece Jim and I entitled 'Spontaneous Dental Hydroplosion'. I missed him. After two days of having a companion to joke around and laugh with, to talk to, I felt lonely. Being on my own for so long, I had forgotten how pleasant it was to have another person around. All of a sudden, it felt harder not to have it now.
Jim wasn't just any other person though. He seemed to understand me and enjoy spending time with me. He made me laugh harder than anyone I had ever met. And he genuinely cared. At first I didn't want to believe that but as yesterday unfolded, I began to see the sincerity in his actions. I wasn't used to that much honesty and openness. I had become very guarded since my divorce and the idea of letting anyone in, the thought of being vulnerable, still scared me.
As much as I tried to keep that box in my mind closed, the one that held those memories of yesterday, I couldn't and as the morning slipped into afternoon, I continued to struggle with my feelings for Jim.
Not long after I had finished my lunch, Michael came racing up to me. "Pam, Pam, come quick," he said nearly in tears. Fearful that a fight had broken out or someone had stolen something, I followed him towards the edge of the park where the bathrooms were. "I was going to the bathroom and when I came out, I saw it. It hit the side of the building and fell. I don't know what to do."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, realizing that whatever it was, it probably wasn't an actual emergency. Michael took my hand and led me over to some tall grass at the base of the building. There, nestled in the weeds, lay a small brown bird, its belly up, its wings twitching.
"I think it's dying," he cried, scooping it up in his hands.
"Michael, that's unsanitary," I said, feeling much like his mother but Michael was too upset to care. I ran into the bathroom and got some paper towels so that we could wrap up the bird. "I don't think there's anything we can do," I informed him thinking that we could take it to a vet, but doubtful that one would even bother with a small wild bird.
"It's dying," Michael continued, "and it's all alone."
"It's not alone," I assured him, but Michael's eyes still watered. I realized that this wasn't about a dying bird at all; this was about Jan. He actually cared for her, in that strange way that Michael cared for people. I suddenly felt bad for Michael and though I often found him intolerable, I thought Jan was the one who was doing more damage. "You're here for it," I told him softly. "Maybe this bird knew he was dying already when he saw you and he decided to end his life because he knew you would there for him." I was sincere in my intentions but that didn't stop me from saying the first things that came into my head.
Michael hesitated at my words. "You're just trying to make me feel better." I was trying to make him feel better but I patted him on the shoulder and told him it'd be alright. "Let's find something to bury him in," he said, cradling the paper towel, looking lovingly at the bird.
The two of us went to the booths searching until we found someone that was selling small, brightly decorated paper boxes that looked as though a child had made them. I pointed one out to Michael that I thought was perfect for the bird. Not wanting to touch the dead bird, I let Michael place it, along with the paper towel, into the box. We took it back to the bathrooms and went behind the building. I placed the little box next to the brick wall, tucking it into the high grass. My clothes were too nice for me to go digging around even though Michael suggested it, so I picked some grass and laid it on top of the box, telling Michael that if the bird were alive he could still fly out.
I was ready to walk away when Michael grasped my hand. "We have to say some parting words," he informed me. I nodded, understanding that Michael had a hard time letting things go. "Well, dear bird," he started, chocking up a little, "I hope you live a long and prosperous life."
"The bird's already dead, Michael," I reminded him quietly.
He continued anyway, whimpering, "I hope that all of your bird friends will find out and if you do make it, know that I am always here for you."
I rubbed his shoulder. "You did all you could, Michael. And that's much more than any other wild bird can say. I'm sure he's grateful."
The two of us remained silent, staring at the bird for some time. I wasn't sure if I had cheered Michael up but he had stopped crying. "Thank you, Pam," he managed to say finally. He swung one arm around my neck, giving me a light hug. I gave him a smile. "I'm not giving up on her," he said firmly. For whatever reason, this bird had rejuvenated his confidence. "I'm not," he repeated as he turned to walk away.
I kept my eyes on the bird as he left and I thought about what Kelly had said earlier. Maybe if I kept following this path I would end up alone, just like this bird. Maybe there weren't many difference between Michael and I after all.
I headed back in towards the middle of the park, the heart of the festival. So many people had come out today and for that I was grateful because it meant good business for the museum. The festival that I had organized was doing well, but what was the point if I had no one to share that sense of accomplishment with?
I came up to the fountain, watching the stream of water flow and fall. In the distance, I saw the tiny footbridge. I remembered standing on that bridge, waiting for Jim. And when he arrived? There was a spark between us and I had pushed it aside all day, not wanting to acknowledge its presence, hiding behind a guise of friendship. The signs were all there and yet I ignored them, not thinking that any of it could be real. I wouldn't let it register then or even last night, but it was all sinking in now.
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became, like the water that rested in the base of the fountain. For the first time, I admitted to myself that I cared for Jim Halpert. I cared for him so much more than I thought possible of a person I had only known for two days and the revelation of that was still hard to process. My own feelings scared me as much as our kiss did last night but at least being honest with myself gave me a great sense of relief. It was a step forward, which was better than standing still and going backwards.
I glanced at the ground and noticed an old, dark brown penny wedged into the grass. I bent down, picking it up to examine it. As I had done many times before in that park, I made a wish on the penny and threw it in the fountain. I watched as the penny swirled in the water, eventually finding a resting place among all the other old coins. Not a second later, my phone rang.