Whatever Happens: Chapter 5
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Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. This chapter's fairly longish as well.
Enjoy!
When she woke up, Pam did not open her eyes right away. The wonderful aroma of breakfast was enough sensory stimulation for a moment. Eggs, bacon, sausage; her mouth watered at the thought. She tried and failed to remember the last time Roy had made her breakfast. She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from lifting. Roy must be feeling awfully sorry about their argument the night before if he was making breakfast for her.
Pam heard the clanking of silverware. Breakfast must be almost ready, and Roy was setting the table. She took that as her cue, and opened her eyes. Then she froze.
She was not in her home.
Pam bolted upright in a panicked frenzy. This wasn't her bed! This wasn't her home! Where was she?
"Morning, sleepyhead."
She whirled her head around and saw Jim, of all people, standing in the kitchen area, holding a spatula.
Ah, she was in Jim's apartment.
"Breakfast is just about ready," he added, turning back to tend to the stove. "For your dining pleasure this morning, Café Halpert is serving scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and a most wonderful dish we call toast a la Jim."
"Toast a la Jim?" Pam echoed.
He grinned. "Toast with butter and your choice of strawberry or grape jam."
"Grape, please."
"Coming right up."
Pam watched him move around the kitchen for a moment as her brain sluggishly tried to process last night's events. She had been upset enough that the drive from Scranton was fuzzy, but she remembered all too well pouring out her problems to Jim later. Pam felt embarrassed about her behavior now, knowing that Jim most likely did not want to hear the details of her married life.
On the bright side, however, this embarrassment prevented Pam from feeling just a teensy bit self-conscious of the fact that she was wearing no make-up and her hair was mussed.
Pam's stomach rumbled abruptly. She saw that Jim was scooping eggs onto plates already laden with bacon, sausage, and toast. Pam pushed the blanket off her legs and stood up, discreetly running a few fingers through her hair simultaneously. She quickly folded the blanket, before attempting to fold the mattress back into its original couch form.
"Here, let me…" He grabbed the mattress and tried to force it down. Jim had little more success that Pam had, but between the two of them, they managed to restore the couch. Pam was panting slightly from the effort, but Jim seemed impervious to the physical strain.
"Breakfast is served," he announced, handing her a plate. Silverware and a glass of orange juice followed shortly, and Jim joined her on the couch with his own food moments later.
"Wow. This looks amazing. Where did all this come from?" Pam asked, astonished at the abundant breakfast in front of her.
Jim took a bite of his bacon. "What do you mean?"
"Come on, Jim, I saw your fridge last night. There was nothing there."
He shrugged. "I ran to the grocery store while you were sleeping," Jim explained. "I've been awake for a while."
"Well, nice work, Halpert," Pam said, approvingly. All the food looked good, and smelled better. She decided to start with the toast.
For a few minutes, they sat silently, side by side on the couch. He devoured his bacon and sausage, she munched on her toast. The silence didn't last long, however.
"So about last night…" Jim began, setting his fork down on the edge of his plate.
Pam felt a red flush creeping up her face. "Yeah, about that. Look, I'm sorry I-"
"No, I mean, you don't need to… you shouldn't feel bad about coming here," Jim interrupted, smiling slightly despite his serious tone. "We're friends, and last night you needed a friend."
She returned his smile. "You're right. Thank you."
"And you shouldn't hesitate to do it again, if you need to."
"Oh." Pam hadn't really been expecting him to be so accommodating. "Okay."
"Okay," Jim repeated casually, before returning to his food. Pam followed his lead, and took another slow bite of her toast.
By the time Pam had finally eaten the rest of her toast, Jim had finished his whole plate. He walked over to the kitchen and set his dishes in the sink with every intention of washing them later, after work. Jim glanced at his watch: 8:23. He was going to be late for work, but that was okay. They could get by without him for a few hours.
As he set about the task of refilling his glass of orange juice, Jim said, "I have an extra toothbrush I never used in the medicine cabinet, if you want to brush your teeth." He took a large gulp. When Pam didn't respond right away, Jim turned around. She was staring down at her plate, which was untouched except for the toast crumbs. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay." Jim's tone was doubtful. There was an expression on her face he didn't recognize, but he wasn't going to press the issue. Like so many other things, it was her business and not his. "I can take your plate, if you're done."
"Actually….." Pam trailed off abruptly. She set her mostly-full plate on the floor, jumped up, and practically ran the six feet to the bathroom.
"Pam?" Jim placed his glass on the counter as quickly as he could without breaking it and followed, concerned. He arrived in the doorway of the bathroom just in time to witness the toast come back up.
Toast a la Jim looked a lot better going down than up.
"Woah, there." Jim tentatively stepped in to the bathroom. "Pam? You okay?"
She merely tightened her grip on sides of the toilet and began to gag again. Jim knelt next to her. One hand carefully pulled her curly hair away from her face. He half expected her to send him away, and was thus somewhat surprised when she didn't so much as flinch. Encouraged, Jim began to softly rub his other hand up and down on her back in a comforting manner. This required being close enough that their bodies were touching, and Jim decided that he would rather have liked it, had she not been throwing up.
They stayed like this for the next five minutes or so, until Pam stopped retching. She sat back, and Jim dropped his hands, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. "Can I get you some water?" He offered, needing something to do.
"Sure."
Jim stood, went into the kitchen, and came back with a glass of water. "Here you go," Jim said, handing it to her.
"Thanks." Pam took a small sip and swished it around her mouth as Jim sat back down on the bathroom floor next to her.
"Are you okay?" Jim asked again.
"Still a little nauseous, but I think I'm done for now," she replied. "You know what I think that was?"
"No, what?"
"I think that was morning sickness!"
"Oh. Has it, uh, happened before, then?" He inquired, clearing his throat. For a few minutes there, he had almost forgotten that Pam was pregnant.
Pam shook her head. "No, no, this is the first time," she answered, beaming.
Jim raised an eyebrow; never before had he seen someone so excited about puking. He supposed it was a "parent" thing, which he wouldn't understand. "That's… great." Jim stood up again. "Why don't we get out of the bathroom," he suggested, extending a hand towards her.
"Okay." Pam placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I should probably get going, anyway. I'm sure you have to get to work, and Michael's probably…" Pam groaned. "Oh, god, Michael."
"Gotcha covered." Jim laughed softly at the surprise on her face. "After I got back from the grocery store, I called Toby and asked him to tell Michael that you had a family emergency and would be a little late."
Pam just looked at him, a simple smile on her face that almost stopped his heart. "Thank you," she said, and he could tell that she was being sincere. "For everything."
Jim appreciated her gratitude more than his quick dismissal of "what are friends for?" revealed; he didn't want to make a big fuss and complicate things.
"I think I've imposed on you long enough, though. I should get going," Pam announced, reaching for her purse.
He wished she would stay longer, but knew he couldn't tell her that. Instead, Jim grabbed a brown paper bag off the counter and handed it to her. "In case you get hungry on the way back," he explained, as she opened it and pulled out a mixed berry yogurt.
She laughed. "Thanks."
Jim moved to the door and opened it. "I just want you to promise me something, okay?"
"Sure. What?"
"If you and Roy have another fight, or whatever, I want you to call me, okay? Don't even hesitate. If you need somewhere to go again, or just someone to talk to, I'm your guy. All right?"
Pam smiled. "I'm pretty sure we got it out of our systems last night."
"Promise me, though?"
"Yeah. I promise."
"Okay then. Drive safe," Jim offered.
"Bye." As he watched Pam walk out the door and back to her car, Jim couldn't help but hope that her and Roy did fight again. He knew it was a horrible thing to wish for, but if it meant she called him or visited again, then from his perspective, it would be worth it.
Back in Scranton, Pam had not been seated at her desk for more than a minute when Michael called her.
"Pam! You're back! Everything okay?" He wanted to know.
"Oh, um, yes, everybody's fine," Pam replied, scrambling to think of a fake family emergency. "My aunt thought she was dying, but it turned out she just had low blood sugar."
"Low blood sugar? That's why you were late today? How do I know you and Roy weren't breaking in your new mattress?"
"Michael, do you need me to do anything?" She asked, out of patience already. She was not in the mood to deal with Michael's dirty insinuations.
"Yes. Could you send Ryan in here? I seem to be having a problem with this Internet stock portfolio thing he was telling me about earlier."
"Sure Michael." Pam pressed a button, and waited for Ryan to pick up.
"Ryan Howard."
"Ryan, this is Pam."
"Hey, Pam." Ryan turned in his swivel chair and looked at her. Pam smiled; it struck her as somewhat amusing that they were about ten feet away but using the phones to communicate.
"Michael needs to see you in his office," she informed him. Ryan didn't move. "Everything okay?"
Ryan sighed heavily. "Yeah." He hung up, and trudged into Michael's office.
Pam set the phone back down, and returned to writing an e-mail to her mom. She had just hit send when the door to the office opened to admit Roy.
He approached her desk slowly. "Hey," Roy greeted her quietly.
"Hey," Pam echoed nonchalantly.
"Wanna go for a walk?"
"I got here late today and I've got this big stack of faxes I have to tend to. I don't think I can leave just now," she replied blandly, adding another line to her e-mail. She knew if she went with him, she would end up forgiving him. Pam wasn't sure she was ready to do so.
"Please, Pam?"
Pam looked up at her husband. The expression on his face suggested that he sincerely wanted to talk. She didn't like being mad at him; now was as good a time as ever to make up. "Okay." Pam hit send and followed Roy out the door.
Roy didn't speak again until they were outside the building. It was a pleasant day outside, sunny but not too warm for comfort. Together, him and Pam began to leisurely walk down the block.
"I had a rough day yesterday," Roy began, as they stopped at an intersection to wait for a car to pass. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He paused, perhaps waiting for a response. Pam didn't give one. "I think we both said things we didn't mean last night, and I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," Pam admitted.
"Look, babe, I love you." Roy sighed. "And I think we should run by the bookstore tonight to get some of those parenting books. Maybe we can even get one of those baby name books," Roy suggested as they entered the crosswalk.
Pam looked up at him and smiled. "I'd like that."
Roy returned her grin, and reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "So where did you go last night?"
Pam shrugged. "Just to a friend's house. Oh, and hey, you'll never guess what happened!" Pam proceeded to tell him all about the morning sickness. Roy was grossed out just hearing about the experience and didn't hesitate to voice it, but Pam didn't really care. She was just glad they had made up.
Fifteen minutes later, when they got back to the office, it was almost as though their fight had never happened at all.
Almost.
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