Phyllis told me that the reporter would be waiting for me at the pavilion. Sure enough when I arrived at the pavilion there stood a small, dark-haired woman in a grey pantsuit. I knew it had to be her because she held a pen and a pad of paper in one hand and was chatting with a tall, large man holding a camera. As much as I appreciated The Scranton Times for coming back out to finish the story, I couldn't help but be disappointed that Jim wasn't here.
"Hi, I'm Pam Beesly, SIA's PR person," I said when I reached the patch of grass they stood on. I held out my hand, giving Karen and the man she was talking to a friendly handshake. "My colleague said you were looking for me."
"Hi, yes, I'm Karen Filippelli, Scranton Times," Karen said, a bright smile on her face. "And this is Darryl Philbin, our photographer."
Darryl gave a friendly nod. "Karen, I'm going to go ahead and get some shots," he said.
"That sounds good," Karen replied. "I don't think this should take more than an hour, so why don't we meet back here at three."
"Will do," Darryl said before heading off into the park.
Karen turned her attention back to me and I couldn't help but feel as though I knew her from somewhere but I couldn't quite place where. I thought hard, but nothing came to mind. It was her name. I swear I heard her name before.
Meanwhile, Karen got her pad and pen ready. She was about to ask her first question when she noticed what I was wearing. "That's a really pretty shirt," she complimented. "It looks hand made, where did you get it?"
"Oh, yeah it is," I said, looking down and playing with the hem. I was still preoccupied with where I knew her. "I actually got this from one of the venders here. Five bucks, and it's very comfortable. You should check the booths out, there's a lot of cool stuff there."
"Yeah, I should," she agreed. "I probably will once I get this finished. I mean, I was supposed to do this story in the first place, but then my sister's wedding was moved up and I had to fly out to Connecticut for a while…"
"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "But have we met before?"
She stopped, blinking at me a few a times. "I don't think so," she answered slowly. "I know I've been in touch with your predecessor, Marjorie, but I believe this is the first time we've met."
"I just—" I started, shaking my head. "You seem familiar to me. Never mind, Marjorie probably just mentioned you before."
Karen shrugged her shoulders. "Or maybe we saw each other last year at the festival. I come every year."
"That could be," I said, though I didn't feel like that was it.
"Yeah, I love this festival," Karen explained, her eyes glowing with excitement. "My dad took me when I was little and ever since I've just been enamored with the art and the talent we've got here in this town. I've seen the big New York stuff, but I can't get over how amazing all of this local art is."
"Yeah, I think it's cool too," I agreed. "I've also come to the festival every year. My grandma took me when I was younger."
"That's awesome," Karen replied. "I hear there's a great pencil and ink exhibition here. Drawings are my favorite."
"Really? Mine too," I agreed again. Despite the fact that I still wished Jim were here instead of her, Karen seemed alright.
"Yeah, I was so bummed out when I thought I couldn't come," Karen continued. "I'm a little glad that Jim screwed up, so now I get to do the story myself. And I'm sorry about that, by the way. Jim's a great guy, but sometimes he's just--you know."
"Yeah, right," I stuttered. I could feel my cheeks flushing at just the mention of Jim's name and I hoped that Karen didn't notice.
"Speaking of Jim, where is he?" she asked, glancing at her watch. "He said he'd be here by now."
My heart skipped a beat. "Wait, Jim said he was coming?" I asked just to make sure I heard her right.
"Yeah," Karen looked at me oddly. "He said he called you to tell you we were coming. He did do that, right?"
"Um, yeah, he…uh, did," I managed to get out. Just the thought of him coming tied my stomach in knots and prohibited me from making coherent sentences.
Karen eyed me suspiciously for a moment then glanced over my shoulder. "Oh, here he is," she said, waving her hand in the air so Jim could see where we were.
I twirled around to see Jim walking up the path. I'm not sure how it was possible but he looked even more attractive than he had yesterday. He essentially wore the same thing, only today's shirt was light blue instead of cream, and the sleeves were rolled down. His hair was tousled more than yesterday, hanging low over his eyes and I suddenly felt the urge to brush it off his forehead. I remembered running my hand through his hair last night and the memory made my knees go weak. A broad grin formed on my lips, one that I couldn't contain if I tried.
"Hi, I'm Jim Halpert, Scranton Times," he reintroduced himself as he approached. Maybe it was his way of breaking the strange tension, but I didn't care. I was thrilled that he was really here. "I'm here to do an…"
"I'm so glad to see you," I interrupted, staring into his eyes to let him know how happy I was.
"Oh," he replied, a little taken aback. His eyes wandered lower examining my new shirt and a small smile crept to his lips. I blushed a little, but felt a certain satisfaction that he enjoyed what he saw. "So, it looks like the festival is doing well," he commented, never taking his eyes off me.
"Yeah, it is," I replied. We both stared at each other, smiling.
"Hey, what took you so long to get here?" Karen broke us out of our bubble. She looked slightly irritated but more so because Jim and I hadn't paid any attention to her, not because Jim was late showing up. She gave me a weak smile. "You can never count on him to ever show up on time."
"Hey, that's not true," Jim retorted.
"Oh my god, Halpert, yes it is," she said, giving him an amused smile. There was something odd about the way she looked at him. "And I shouldn't be surprised, even if you did practically beg me to come today."
He shook his head and looked at the ground. "I didn't beg," he said softly.
"Oh, you so did," Karen shot back. "And maybe if you were a little better with electronics you would have finished the story instead of having me come to your rescue…again."
Her teasing didn't seem to bother him. "You just think you're a better writer than I am. That's the only reason why you're here now."
"Oh, that's true," she said rolling her eyes. "Why is this story so important to you anyway?"
Jim looked over at me and gave me a half smile. "It just is."
"Yeah, I don't buy it," Karen said, studying him. She looked over at me to explain. "Our boss can never pry this guy away from any sports story, so the fact that he's given up two to do this is pretty amazing. Not to mention he was hard pressed to come out here to do the original story while I was away."
Karen laughed but I failed to understand what was so funny. I nodded politely though and didn't reply. I was too busy watching her body language, the way she kept smiling up at him, the way she leaned in towards him. It began to make me feel uncomfortable.
"I originally wanted to do the story," Jim said defensively. "I've always wanted to come out to the festival."
"Oh please, you have never wanted to come to this festival with me," Karen responded. "Remember last year you said you were too sick to come out? Then the next week you dragged me to that stupid corn maze."
"Oh right," Jim said, reminiscing on what seemed to be a fond memory. "Didn't we get lost in there for hours or something?"
"Yeah, but that wasn't such a bad time, was it?" Karen asked, gently running her hand over his arm. My eyes became fixated on her hand as it finally stopped and her thumb tenderly grazed his bicep.
Then it hit me, why she seemed so familiar. Christian had mentioned her yesterday. She was his ex. Karen was his ex-girlfriend; the one Christian had said he danced around for ages. My face fell as the realization set it. It was bad enough dealing with Katy yesterday, some how Karen felt much worse. There was more of a history here; I could just sense it. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. I turned away, not wanting to be a witness to their moment.
"Uh, maybe we should get started," Jim said, noticing my reaction. He pulled away from Karen.
"Alright, where should we start?" Karen asked excitedly. She didn't seem to pick up on anything wrong. "Pam, you must know where the cool things are."
"I, uh…" I didn't feel much like doing any kind of interview now.
Luckily, Darryl showed up. "Hey, Karen, do you have a bottle of aspirin on you, my head is killing me." He noticed Jim was there. "Oh, hey Halpert. I heard you had a little technical trouble," he commented with a laugh.
"Yup," Jim responded slowly. I could tell he was already getting tired of being teased about the tape recorder. "Something like that."
"I think I have some in my purse," she said as she began rummaging through her pockets.
While Karen and Darryl were busy, Jim pulled me aside. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize." At first I thought it was for Karen or maybe the kiss last night, but it was neither. "I just couldn't finish the article last night. I mean, yeah I ran over the tape recorder, but I just had a hard time writing it, then this morning Josh insisted Karen come and-"
"Oh, it's no big deal," I said, trying to play it cool. At this point I didn't care about the stupid article. "I mean, it doesn't really matter who writes the thing as long as it gets written, right?" I didn't realize how harsh I sounded at the time. I really just wanted to be alone with Jim so we could talk things through.
"Yeah, right," Jim responded distantly.
"Hey, I found some," Karen said loudly, giving Darryl a couple of aspirin. "Oh, and here's some of that gum you like Jim," she said holding out a package. "Want some?"
Jim stared at me for a moment before responding. "Sure," he said eventually, giving her a smile as he took a piece. Karen held the package out for me, but I declined and wished she would disappear all together.
"Alright, let's get started," Karen stated eagerly.
* * *
I decided to give Karen the same tour I gave Jim two days ago, reiterating many of the same points that I originally made. Karen seemed much more interested and came off as more professional than Jim had at first, asking plenty of questions about the types of art presented in the festival along with information about the artists themselves. I answered her questions as thoroughly as possible, though much less enthusiastic than I did on the opening day. Karen didn't seem to notice. The art intrigued her a great deal and the more we saw, the more questions she asked, scribbling down all she could on the pad of paper she had with her.
Meanwhile, Jim trailed a few feet behind us, distant and quiet. His only contribution to the conversation was a sporadic yawn. Every once in a while, I would throw a quick glance in his direction but he would always turn the other way. Karen would also throw a look in his direction, often giving a hopeful smile, but he was as unresponsive to her as to me. I had to wonder, if he wasn't going to be of any help to the paper, then why did he come back and part of me was eager to shake off Karen so I could ask him.
I tried to get through my spiel as quickly as possible but Karen had a million questions and our trek around the park felt like it was lasting forever. We eventually reached the tent with the untitled paintings Jim and I had joked about that first morning. As I spoke about a still life in the corner, Jim wandered to the painting of the six and seven, the first untitled piece he had asked me about, the one that I had given an absurd meaning to as a joke, and stared at it for a while.
Karen, noticing how interested in the painting he had become, cut me off in the middle of my speech to join him. "What is it?" she asked looking amused by his fixation.
"You know this painting represents our place in Western religion?" he said, giving me a half smile as I hesitantly made my way towards them.
"What?" Karen asked surprised. "Where did you read that?" She began to search for a plaque but only saw that the piece was titled 'Untitled'.
"It's my own interpretation," he informed her proudly.
She looked at him dumbfounded then back at the painting to study. "I don't get it," she said honestly.
"See, the placement of the numbers…"
Karen was quick to interrupt. "No, I don't see how you get religion out of it. The artist, Chris Jackson, I've met him. He's a drunk and probably more inspired by a poker game than religion. Pam, you probably know better than I would, what do you think?"
I couldn't help but feel flush. Karen was right about the artist and as much as I loved Jim remembering those details, I had to be honest. "She's right," I said quietly. "But you never know about any painting really," I added quickly.
Jim's face fell and I tried not to meet his eye. "Oh, right," he muttered. "I made that up anyway."
"Oh, well that makes more sense," Karen said. That statement didn't help any. "Great joke, Jim," she said with a smile.
Jim only nodded. He remained silent for a long time.
Not long after, we exited the tent, heading down towards the venders. Karen was interested as to where I had purchased my shirt so I took her to the booth where I had bought it. As we browsed through the clothes, Jim went to the booth across from us to check out model cars.
Karen didn't spend too much time looking through the shirts. While she liked the idea, she didn't find any that caught her fancy. Instead, she found a nearby table that she was much more interested in. One that I wasn't really interested in visiting but she dragged me along anyway.
"I just love these hand made purses," she cooed as she held up a black purse with sequins on it. She started digging through the pile.
"Yeah, they're lovely," I commented, distracted. I looked around, noticed an older, strawberry-blonde woman sitting a few feet back from the table and hoped she was the only one working this booth. I tried to urge Karen to move on but she was too interested in the purses.
"Hey, can I help you with anything?" It was Katy, as pretty and perky as ever, holding a giant box of purses, which she put down under the table. She recognized me immediately. "Hey, Pam, how are you doing?" I couldn't understand how she could be so perpetually cheery.
"I'm alright," I said nervously. This whole situation felt very awkward.
"I love these purses," Karen complimented as Katy began putting more purses on the table for display. "I'm Karen Filippelli, Scranton Times."
"Katy Moore," Katy said, extending a friendly hand. "Scranton Times? You must know Jim Halpert."
"Uh, yeah," Karen replied. "You know Jim?"
Katy gave a smile. "Jim and I go way back."
"Really?" Karen said surprised. She gave Katy the same look I gave her the first time Katy and I met. It made me happy that Jim apparently didn't tell Karen everything.
"Yeah," Katy continued, oblivious to how strange this situation was. "We went to college together."
"Oh, right," Karen's face fell and she looked down at the purses. "So, did you make these…"
As Karen and Katy went into a discussion on purses, I glanced around, scanning the booths for Jim. He was actually on his way over when I caught his eye and I shook my head to warn him. He stopped in his tracks but didn't notice what I was getting at. I nodded towards the table we were standing at. His eyes grew wide and his face paled as he discovered Karen and Katy pleasantly chatting about merchandise. He gave me a quick shocked look before immediately becoming interested in the booth next to where he was standing, which happened to be selling musical instruments.
I decided to slip away to join Jim. Although I mumbled that I was leaving, neither Katy nor Karen noticed that I had left and I was grateful for that. Jim did and gave me a half smile before returning his attention to a small wooden recorder. It gave me a warm feeling and I hoped this would be an opportune time to talk to him about the previous night.
"Hey," I said as I came up beside him.
"Hi," he said not looking in my direction. It made me nervous.
"So, didn't want to join us?" I asked lightly.
He let out a little laugh. "Yeah, facing my worst nightmare? I don't think so." His tone was lighter than it had been while walking with Karen and part of me wondered if maybe she was the problem and not me.
I laughed as well but we quickly settled into silence. I wasn't sure what to say. Spitting out 'Hey Jim, I enjoyed our kiss last night and I'm sorry I pulled away. I'm still very scared of my feelings but I know I really like you,' didn't seem like such an easy thing to slip into conversation. Instead, I inquired about the recorder in his hands. "Do you play?"
"Oh yeah," he grinned and put it up to his mouth, blowing some air into it to create a high-pitched squeal. He attempted to cover some of the holes but it was obvious he had no idea. "See, I'm a natural."
"Yeah, I have no idea either," I commented. There was a small banjo resting next to an array of wooden flutes. "Roy had one of these," I said as I plucked one of the strings, a twang-y sound arising from the instrument. "He got a book to teach himself how to play and proceeded to learn every ABBA song he could because that was his favorite band."
"Oh my god," Jim said in disbelief, though he seemed amused at the thought.
"I know, it was horrible," I continued. "I'll be happy if I never hear a banjo played again."
"I don't blame you," he agreed, placing the recorder back down.
He finally looked over at me, unsure as I was on how to proceed. I took a deep breath in, knowing that if I didn't speak now, I might lose my chance. "Hey, Jim. Um, actually, do you think we could…"
"Excuse me, Miss Pamela Beesly?" A man not too much older than I was, wearing khakis and a sweater vest, eagerly awaited a response. I looked at him oddly, unsure of who he was, while he grinned wildly. He looked me up and down slowly. "Actually, it must be Pam Babe-ly because I must say you are hot!"
"What?" I asked, incredibly confused and shocked as to why this man was checking me out. Jim eyed him suspiciously.
"I'm Andy. Andy Bernard," the guy said, hurt that I didn't know who he was. "Didn't Kelly tell you we were meeting today?"
"Wait, you're Kelly's friend?" I asked, thinking what horrible timing it was that he showed up now.
"Yes, I will be your date for this evening," Andy said sure of himself. "I have plenty of things planned out for us tonight. How do you feel about Frisbee based competitions? There's an amazing Frolf tournament going on later tonight." My jaw dropped a little. I hated Frisbee and it made me wonder what exactly Kelly told him.
"Ah, so he's the blind date," Jim commented, his eyebrows rising as he looked Andy over, a smile spread across his face. Part of me wanted him to be jealous but if I had to guess, he seemed more relieved. After only a short time with Andy, he probably knew Andy wasn't much of a threat.
"How did you know how to find me?" I asked, turning my attention away from Jim.
Andy pulled out an old photo of Kelly and I from his pocket to show to me. "And can I say, you look even more amazing in person."
As eager as he was, I hated to tell him that I couldn't have a blind date now. "Andy, I'm sorry. I don't know what Kelly told you but…"
"So, you're going to ditch him without giving him a chance?" Jim interrupted. I looked up at him surprised he would say such a thing. He gave me a smug smile as if to see how far I would go with it. I titled my head thinking now was not a good time to start playing mind games. Jim continued, "Honestly, Pam. Kelly went out of her way to set you up. She did say he was your type." His sarcasm was thick and he was enjoying Andy being around.
I pursed my lips and wished Ryan had known when to keep his mouth shut. When he and Kelly got back, I was going to give them both a piece of my mind. "So, Andy," I said as kindly as possible. "How do you know Ryan and Kelly?"
"Well, Ryan and I are frat brothers," Andy explained. "Only, we went to different colleges. I went to Cornell, ever heard of it?"
"I'm sorry, what college?" Jim asked.
Andy looked shocked. "Cornell," he repeated.
"Oh, yeah," Jim replied. "I've never heard of it."
Andy shook his head in disgust. "It's only one of the best colleges in the nation," he said. Andy turned his attention back to me. "Who is this guy?"
"Andy, this is Jim Halpert form the Scranton Times," I answered.
Andy's eyes widened, interested. "Oh, so you're like a real reporter."
"No, actually I'm fictional," Jim shot back.
Andy looked confused and I rolled my eyes at Jim.
Karen returned at that moment, finding it odd that there was another person in the group. "Hey guys, what's going on?"
"Oh, Pam has a date," Jim explained happily.
Karen gave me a strange look. "A date? Now?"
"It's a long story," I said apologetically.
"Hey, Andy," Jim said. "You don't happen to play a musical instrument do you?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Andy replied happily. "I am marvelously multi-talented in a variety of musical instruments."
"Really?" Jim's eyes grew wide and I knew he was up to something. "Do you play the banjo?" he asked, grabbing the banjo off the table and holding it up.
"Hell, yeah," Andy said taking the banjo from Jim. "I played the banjo in the A capella group I was in when I went to Cornell."
"Wait," Karen jumped in. "If it was an A capella group, why was there a banjo?"
"I'm sorry, what college did you go to?" Jim asked, pretending he didn't know what Andy was talking about.
"Uh, Cornell," Andy answered, not sure what to make of Jim. "Dude, I just told you this."
"Oh, sorry, I forgot," Jim said. "You know what Andy, Pam was just telling me how much she loves the banjo. Maybe you should show off your music skills, I know it will impress her."
I gave Jim a glare; he only smiled back.
Karen seemed irritated. "I don't think we have time for fooling around."
I wanted to agree, stating we should all move on, but Jim insisted Andy play a song. "What would you like to hear?" Andy asked.
"Can you play ABBA?" Jim suggested, must to my distaste.
"I have the perfect song," Andy said, strumming a chord. "If you change your mind," he started out slowly. I couldn't believe this was happening. "I'll be first in line/honey I'm still free/take a chance on me…"
As Andy continued to sing 'Take A Chance On Me', I began to blush. Even though I couldn't stand the sound of the banjo or that song, Andy's sincerity made me feel special. At the same time, it made me feel guiltier about having to turn him down later on. As sweet as Andy was being, I couldn't change my feelings for Jim.
Throughout Andy's performance, Jim shot me amused glances. I couldn't help but think that he orchestrated this whole thing for my benefit as well as for his own entertainment. It made me long for some alone time with him even more.
Karen seemed impressed by Andy's skills. "Maybe you should give him a chance," she whispered to me during the second chorus, interrupting my thoughts. "I mean, he's a little weird, but this is adorable."
My face fell as I realized that not only did I have to deal with Andy but Karen was still an unknown factor in this ordeal as well. I rested my head in my hand and wished life weren't so complicated.
"…Take a chance oooooooonnnn meeeeeeee," Andy concluded, strumming the banjo wildly. Karen, Jim, and I clapped as he finished. As soon as he was done, he grabbed my hand and pulled it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Take a chance on me, Miss Beesly," he said sweetly. My cheeks immediately flushed, I was so embarrassed that he would do all of this in a public area. I noticed Jim's face fell as Andy continued to peck my hand. I pulled it away swiftly and wiped it on my skirt.
"Oh, hey, the recorder," Karen said pushing past Andy and I to be next to Jim, picking up the recorder Jim had played earlier. "Jim, remember when we were going to start our own band? You'd play the recorder and I'd play the kazoo. We even managed to work out 'Yellow Submarine' before we gave it up. Why did we give that up?"
"Um, I believe because we sucked," Jim said with a smile.
"We didn't suck," Karen said seriously. She still cared for him. I could see it in her eyes.
"Really?" he asked sincerely. With the way he looked at her, I feared maybe he still cared for her as well.
"Nope," Karen's lips formed a mischievous smile. "Just you sucked."
He threw his head back with a laugh and gave her a friendly push on the arm, which she returned. I felt like this whole situation sucked.
* * *
Andy, meanwhile, thought his performance was well received, so he began to play again. Karen, wanting to get back to the article, stopped him. While she looked to be having an overall good time, her professionalism shown through and she put the article before enjoying herself. "You know what Andy," she said kindly, "you and Pam can get to know each other this evening but I want to finish this interview."
"I totally get what where you're coming from, my lady," Andy said with a broad grin. "But you can benefit from my extensive knowledge on the world of art. When I went Cornell, I once roomed with a very talented man who worked at an art museum. I visited him twice at work so I believe I have a good handle on the art world."
"Uh, okay," Karen said, giving him a lopsided smile. I'm sure we both concluded that Andy had no idea what he was talking about.
"Do you guys need to get back so soon?" I asked anxiously. "I mean, there is the community dance tonight. If you don't need to get back, you can definitely stay and have a good time."
Karen and Jim looked at each other, both unsure. "Uh, we have a lot going on," Karen answered regretfully. "I mean I just got back and, well, I guess I can't speak for Jim but-"
Karen and I both waited for Jim to answer. Jim looked away. "I do need to get a few things written up," Jim said softly. "You know, I'd love to stay, but I don't think I can…because of work and such."
"Oh," I let out sadly.
"I mean, it's just that, I have to get some work done," Jim continued. "Or else my editor is not going to be happy. The dance looks like it will be a lot of fun, I just…shouldn't."
We stared at each other for a moment. I tried to understand what was going on in his head, but I felt like he had put up a wall that I wasn't able to penetrate.
Andy decided to step in. "Don't worry, Pam," he said putting an arm around my shoulders. "I'll still be here and we will have a lot of fun."
"Thanks, Andy," I said pulling away quickly, aware that Jim's eyes were fixed on Andy's arm.
"Hey Karen, I thought you wanted me to come see that new zombie movie with you tonight anyway," Jim said.
Karen looked confused, "Jim, you hate zombie movies. We had this conversation before I left, I don't care if you don't want to go."
"Well, uh, if you want to," he stuttered. I couldn't tell what he was doing, if he was acting this way because of me or if he really wanted to be with Karen.
Karen looked at him brightly. "Well, sure, if you really want to."
I scrunched my nose, not wanting to hear more of Karen and Jim's evening plans.
"Does the movie have zombie birds?" I interjected, thinking back to our phone conversation earlier. Jim looked at me completely taken aback. "Because it's not a movie worth seeing if there are no zombie birds in it. And if it does, I think I may have found some new inspiration for my art."
Jim gave me a wide smile. "You know what, Pam, I think it does."
"Alright, we should continue on," Karen jumped in, irritated. "You know, Jim, we may cover more ground if we split up. How about you go get a few interviews at the north end of the park?"
Jim wasn't sure how to respond. "Uh, sure Karen. Pam, would you like-"
"Jim, seriously," Karen said, rolling her eyes. There was a hint of frustration in her voice. "Didn't you, like, talk to Pam all day yesterday? I was actually hoping she could stay with me. I'd like to pick her brain on her thoughts about some of the local artists."
Part of me wanted to tell Karen to shove it but there was another part of me that understood Karen was being serious about her job. "I, uh, it's alright, Jim, we'll just meet up in a half hour or so."
Jim took a deep breath in. "Alright then, I guess I'll meet you guys at the pavilion in a little while," Jim said as he turned to walk away.
I wanted to go with him, but my feet felt frozen to the ground. I watched Jim leave and was so entranced in my own thoughts that it took me a second to register that Andy was talking to me. "So, what do you think?"
"What do I think about what?" I asked.
Karen rolled her eyes. "Hey, Andy, isn't there somewhere else that you need to be?"
Andy looked at me then back to Karen. "Uh, no."
I understood where Karen was taking this. "Andy, Karen and I are trying to work. Is it all right if we get to know each other later?"
"Well then," Andy replied, not happy about being asked to leave. "I will just find something else to do," he scoffed before dramatically doing an about face and heading in the same direction Jim had.
Karen let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad he finally left."
"Yeah, I'm so sorry about that," I said sheepishly. "A coworker of mine thought it'd be fun to set me up on a blind date. For some reason, she thought Andy would be a good match."
Karen let out a chuckle. "Yeah, not sure about that. Hey, you know if you're looking for a good guy though, I can always set you up with Darryl." For a split second, I thought she was going to say Jim.
"Oh, I don't know," I said, not really wanting to get into it.
Karen pushed anyway. "Really? He's a sweet guy and I promise he's not crazy."
That's great but I have feelings for your ex-boyfriend that I'd really like to explore I wanted to say. I didn't. Instead, I lied. "You know, I'm not really looking to date at the moment. I just got divorced and need to be single right now."
Karen nodded her head but I got the feeling that she didn't quite believe me. Not having anything else to add, I suggested we continue walking through the venders. There wasn't much else to look at until we came across the table Angela had set up. Instead of having her porcelain kittens out, there were a variety of nativity scene figurines. Karen picked up one of the wise men to examine it.
"Isn't a little early for Christmas decorations?" Karen observed.
Angela snatched the wise man out of her hands. "It is never too early to celebrate Christ our Savior," she sneered. Karen gave her a shocked look.
"Angela, aren't you supposed to be alerting the press?" I asked, knowing how angry Jan would be if she found out Angela was selling merchandise instead of doing her job. "I don't see how your personal business is helping the museum."
"I did as I was told," Angela shot back, not happy that I was calling her out. "You skipped out of here early last night, leaving me to clean up this entire park alone. And then, Jan expects me to do your job. I work long hours. I don't get nearly enough time for my cats. And I have to take on more responsibility at work. It's just too much. So I think I deserve the right to sell merchandise at a festival that I helped put together."
"I'm sorry," Karen jumped in. "I know it's none of my business, but if it's about your job, shouldn't you be doing that instead of working on your own agenda, even if your job does weigh you down?"
Angela shot an evil glare at Karen but I had to give Karen props for standing up to her. "I think maybe we should move on," I said before Angela could unleash her wrath on Karen. She obliged and left the venders area.
"Is she always that cold?" Karen asked when we were out of earshot.
"Yeah, she really isn't friendly," I explained. "I wouldn't take it personally though."
"She shouldn't talk to you like that," Karen said giving me a smile. "It's very rude and doesn't help her cause at all."
"Thanks," I returned. "Great job standing up to her by the way. I'm not that good at that."
"Oh, no problem," she replied. I wanted Karen to be the villain in my play, but the more I got to know her, the more I liked her, which made the fact that she was Jim's ex-girlfriend harder for me to reconcile. Later, I would wonder if I was the villain in her play.
As soon as we left the area of venders, Kevin, who looked to be sweating profusely greeted us. "Uh, Ms. Beesly? We sort of have a problem."
I gave Karen a nervous glance. "What would that be?"
Kevin stared dully at me for a moment. "We seemed to have misplaced the chords to our amps."
"What?" I interjected.
"And we will not be able to play without them," Kevin finished.
I groaned. "Can't you get replacement chords?"
"We do not have replacement chords at this time," Kevin said simply.
"Well, what are we supposed to do?" I snapped. This was the last thing the festival needed. If we didn't have a band to play tonight, we didn't have a show. If we didn't have a show then that was it.
"You know what," Karen said, a grin forming. "I may have an idea. Our photographer, Darryl, is in a band. Why don't we just ask him if he can help us out?"
Fifteen minute later, we were up at the pavilion negotiating with Darryl. "So, you really don't mind helping us out?" I asked, thrilled to hear that Darryl had agreed to help out Scrantonicity if his own band, The Warehouse Boys, would be able to perform tonight as well.
"I don't think it'll be a problem at all," Darryl said happily.
I felt relieved. "You have no idea how grateful I am to you right now. You really saved the museum's butt."
Darryl smiled. "Oh, I've heard Scrantonicity play before. I wouldn't want anyone to suffer through that. It's my pleasure." With that, Darryl started the ball rolling and began to call members of his band. Karen gave me a satisfied smile and I had to admit, I was grateful for her being here.
Not long after, Jim returned, Andy in tow. As Jim made his way in our direction, Andy became distracted by Scrantonicity half set-up on stage. Andy ran over and I could hear him clearly state how he wanted to help in whatever way he could.
"I just want to thank you," Jim said sarcastically as he approached us. "For sticking Andy on me. That was fun. He now calls me Big Tuna. Please don't ask why."
I let out a little laugh. "I'm so sorry. We sent him away, I didn't think he'd go find you."
"Nah, it's ok," Jim assured me. "He's not so bad. But really, this guy's your type?" Now he was being serious.
"Kelly set me up, she was the one that made the judgment call," I admitted, glad to have the truth come out. "And no, I don't think he's my type at all."
"Really?" Jim asked interested. "Are you going to tell me that art buffs who can sing ABBA and attend Ivy League schools aren't your type?"
"Oh, no, you're right," I joked. "He is exactly the type of guy I'm looking for."
Karen, who had been looking uncomfortable during our entire exchange, spoke up. "Hey, Jim, guess what. Darryl is playing at the festival tonight."
"That's cool," Jim responded. "Why's that?" Karen and I explained the entire situation to him. "Well, you guys are lucky to get The Warehouse Boys. I've heard them play and they're great. You know what," he added, giving me a smile. "Maybe I will stay and see them. Never want to pass up a chance to support a colleague."
"Jim, you have work to do," Karen reminded him. "And I thought we were going to see a movie tonight."
Jim's face fell. "Oh, right."
"Well, you guys can stay for a little while, right?" I asked hopefully. Actually, although I felt guilty about this, I wouldn't have minded if Karen left.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt if we stayed to hear some of Darryl's band," Jim said. "I mean, we should support Darryl…"
"Jim!" Karen did not look happy about his decision. "What is with you?" She had a hard look on her face. "Look, if you don't want to go see a zombie movie I won't make you but I will remind you that you do have a job to do. We can't stay."
Jim looked as though he didn't know how to answer. "Yeah, work…" he muttered softly. I looked at him intently, wanting him to know I wished he would stay. I couldn't say it out loud, not with Karen right there. He turned his gaze away from me. "Maybe I should help them out," he said, referring to the Scrantonicity band members who were dragging amps up the steps to the stage. Without another word or glance in our direction, he headed to them, leaving Karen and I standing alone.
* * *
Thankfully, Darryl's band was able to make it and although Scrantonicity would still be the featured band of the evening, they graciously allowed The Warehouse Boys to perform with them. Although Kevin never said anything, I really believed that he was also grateful that Darryl had saved the day.
Darryl's group had arrived in record time and was currently mingling with Kevin's band. Andy and Jim were with them. Andy couldn't help himself and insisted he show off his guitar skills, grabbing a guitar and plucking away. Despite how irritating he could be, I had to give Andy props for being an excellent guitar player. Jim was helping Kevin with the drum set and I couldn't help but notice that no matter how many times Kevin dropped a piece of equipment, Jim always had a kind look on his face.
Karen and I stood off to the side of the pavilion watching. Our conversation about various artworks of the festival had dwindled into a silence and we watched the boys for a few minutes. At one point, Jim looked over in our direction and gave a half smile. I was sure he was looking at me, so I gave him one back. Apparently, Karen thought the same thing and grinned broadly, waving at him. Jim's face fell and he returned his attention to the bass drum he was positioning.
"I don't know what is wrong with him today," Karen said under her breath, as her face grew serious again.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked. I had heard her clearly but I wanted to know what she was talking about. Jim was distant when he first got here but had since warmed up, so I was unsure of what she was talking about.
"Jim's…just been acting weirdly today," she responded, her eyes fixed on Jim as he helped Kevin.
"How so?" I asked, trying to sound calm, but my heart rate had picked up again. I wasn't sure how I wanted her to answer.
"Well, Jim and I…" she stopped, looking embarrassed. "You know what, it's really not that interesting."
"No, go ahead," I insisted, maybe too eagerly.
"I don't know," she said unsure. "I'm probably reading things wrong anyway."
"Well, sometimes it helps me to talk it out," I said, wanting very much to hear what she had to say. "And I'm a good listener, it's okay, really."
She gave a faint smile. "Um…" she started, scratching her head. I could tell she was hesitant to confide in me so I gave her a friendly smile. "Jim and I used to date—"
"Really?" I said over-enthusiastically. She gave me an odd look and so I focused on my shoes to hide my interest. "I mean, I could tell you guys have, like, a connection or something, anyway…" I needed to learn when to shut-up.
At first I thought Karen wouldn't continue due to my babbling but she did anyway. "Well, we were off and on for a while," she explained. "Then serious for a while. Then I made the stupid mistake of mentioning we should move in together. And, well, you know how guys are."
"Yeah," I nodded, although I wasn't really sure. All I had was Roy to compare to.
"And I guess we fizzled out after that," Karen said with a sigh.
"How long ago was that?" I asked, interested. Karen gave me another suspicious look. "Just to get a time frame," I added, though I had a hard time looking her in the eye.
"I don't know, almost a year ago," she answered. She looked back over at Jim sadly. "And yeah, it was weird for a while, but we've managed to work together in peace. But then a couple of weeks ago we started getting friendly again." A smile formed over her lips and I shifted uncomfortably. Maybe I didn't want to hear this. "We've been talking and hanging out more lately. I thought maybe he wanted to start things up again. I know I want to."
"Oh," was all I managed to get out. The sick feeling was returning fast.
Karen continued, lost in her memory. "Then the night before I left for my sister's wedding, I kissed him. And it was…"
"Amazing?" I choked on the word.
"Yeah," she said dreamily.
I put a hand up to my face to try to mask the emotion I couldn't hide. The more she talked, the worse I felt. I took a few heavy breaths before I spoke again. "So, he's acting different now?"
She nodded, coming out of her dreamy state. "I get back yesterday and he didn't call. He didn't call at all while I was in Connecticut. I get to work this morning and find that he didn't finish a story, which is odd for him. And he's fighting Josh, our boss, over who gets to do the article. It was originally going to be my story anyway, but he was adamant that he take it. So, we're both here. Then, he insists we don't drive together over here. And all day today he's friendly and almost flirting with me one minute and the next he won't look at me at all. I mean, what could have possibly happened in three days that he's acting so dramatically different?"
I happened I thought, feeling guilty about it. My head was spinning; I didn't know what to think. I was having a hard time with my own feelings but now I began to doubt how Jim felt as well. Was I just a rebound or someone who was just there while Karen was away? Had I misinterpreted something along the way? And none of this was fair to Karen who was obviously very invested in their relationship. She didn't deserve to be in the dark but I couldn't bring myself to say anything.
"Well?" she asked after I hadn't spoken for a moment. "Am I crazy? Pathetically hopeful? Or just way off?"
"Um…" I nervously clenched and unclenched my hands. "Maybe Jim is unsure of what he wants right now," was the best I could come up with. "And maybe you should just talk with him. Be honest. How will you ever know if you aren't?" I could really use my own advice sometimes. "I mean, maybe it's something or maybe there's nothing at all."
Karen nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah, I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion."
"Yeah, probably," I said automatically.
"Thanks, Pam," she said kindly. The nicer she seemed to be, the harder it was for me to deal with the situation. "Seriously, I think after we leave tonight I'll sit down and have a long talk with him."
"No problem," I said, though my head was throbbing. I could feel my eyes begin to well; I had to get out of there. "I think there's something wrong with my contacts," I lied. "I need to go fix it."
"Do you need to borrow some contact solution or something?" Karen asked concerned. "I have some in my car if you need any."
"No, I'm alright," I said turning away quickly and walking away from the pavilion. As soon as I was a few yards away, I booked it to the bathrooms.
Tears were running down my face before I even got there. I put a hand to my face to wipe them off as I quickened my pace. When I reached the brick building, I couldn't hold it in any longer. All of the mixed emotions I had pent up over the course of the day finally released. I placed one hand on the outside wall of the bathroom to hold myself up while the other hand stayed over my eyes in an attempt to keep the emotion in. But the pain in my heart was too much and I began to cry uncontrollably.
Amidst the pain and sadness that overwhelmed me a sense of anger arose. I was the one that had messed this all up. I was mad at myself for pushing Karen towards Jim. I felt guilty because no matter how this ended, some one was going to get hurt. I hated that I rejected Jim last night and hated the fact that Jim seemed to be just as confused as I was. I felt worse now than I had this morning. I didn't know what else to do, so I let myself cry.
"Pam?" a soft voice behind me came. "Are you alright?"
I took a deep breath in and wiped my cheeks before turning around. "Yeah, I'm fine Michael," I responded although I'm sure he could see that my eyes were puffy and my make-up had run.
"You're crying," he said simply.
"No, no it's just…" I tried but I couldn't contain another sob.
"Did someone hurt you?" Michael asked, coming up to place an arm around me. "Was it Roy?"
I shook my head but the thought of having to deal with Roy made me cry harder. "I- It's…" I couldn't form words so Michael took my hand and led me to the grassy patch near where we buried the bird earlier that day and we both sat down. I don't usually confide in Michael but he was being so unusually compassionate that I was able to cry in his presence. He rubbed my back gently as I buried my head in my hands to hide my tears.
"It's alright," Michael said soothingly. "I promise, whatever it is isn't as bad as you may think it is."
"No, I think it is," I managed to get out.
"Well, what is it?" Michael inquired.
Against my better judgment, mostly because talking with Michael right now was better than no one, I told him. "I think I just pushed the guy I like towards his ex-girlfriend," I said with a shaky voice. My tears had slowed and I was able to look at Michael in the eye.
"Oh, that's nothing," Michael assured me. "Last year, I thought Jan was going to get back together with her ex-husband. Then I bought her tickets to Jamaica."
For the first time in a while, I smiled. "You took Jan to Jamaica?" I asked, a little in disbelief.
"Oh, yeah," he said happily. "Over Christmas. We spent the best week of our lives on the beach, getting a tan. Jan loved this nice nude beach where she could show off her fake boobs."
"What?" I just learned more about my boss in the last ten seconds than I ever wanted to know.
"Yeah, she got the fake boobs last year as well. You never noticed?" Michael continued. "They were so small before and-"
"Michael, no," I stopped him, but I let out a real laugh and it felt nice.
"So, who's this guy who you're so hung up on?" Michael asked curiously. "I can talk to him if you want."
"No, that's fine," I said, using the back of my hand to brush the tears off my face.
"Is it Oscar?"
"No, Oscar's—" I stopped, thinking it would be a bad idea to let Michael know that Oscar was gay.
"Is it that date Kelly set you up with," Michael guessed.
I shook my head. "Andy? No." I wondered because Michael was back if that meant Ryan and Kelly had returned as well. I still wanted to speak to her about Andy.
"Oh, it's Jim, from the Scranton Times," Michael said thoughtfully.
"What?" I replied, though I knew there was no use denying that since I was currently wearing my heart on my sleeve.
"I don't know why you're crying over that," Michael said with disdain. "I told you yesterday he had the hots for you."
"Huh?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at.
"Yeah, he told me all about it after I fell out of the tree," he explained. "My leg still hurts by the way. I think I should go to the hospital and make sure it set right."
I ignored his complaints and thought back to that moment in the tent. "Wait a minute, you were being serious?" I asked hopefully. I had been so used to Michael's lies and was doubtful of Jim's feelings that I hadn't suspected that it was all true.
"Yeah," Michael said, disgusted that I didn't believe him. "Why would I lie about that?"
"Well…" I wanted to know everything. "What did he say?"
Michael rolled his eyes. "He just went on and on about how wonderful you are. And he said you were funny. I told him that you never joke around with me, but he didn't believe me."
My jaw dropped. "Oh my god," I said shocked. I gave Michael a grateful smile. "Thank you," I said leaning over to give him a hug.
"For what?" he asked confused.
I took a deep breath in and hoisted myself up. "I think everything is going to be all right."