furies
in
femslash07
begin to rewrite me now. (the office, karen/pam).
for pirateygoodness. hope you like it, even at this late hour!
Title: begin to rewrite me now.
Author: another_juxtaposition/furies.
Recipient: pirateygoodness.
Fandom: the office.
Pairing: karen/pam.
Rating: g! hah, i suck.
Word count: 3,789 words.
Disclaimer: definitely not mine, though i’ve spent enough time in scranton and lackawanna county that i feel i should be honorary, or something. (just be glad there’s no extensive story about karen’s first trip to the coal mine. yeah, i know.)
*
Pam likes Jim, and Jim likes Karen. Therefore, Pam likes Karen. It’s the same as how Pam likes playing pranks, and Jim likes playing pranks, so Pam likes Jim. Or something. Roy never took anything related to symbolic logic, and Pam only knows what she’s learned listening to Dwight be obnoxious to, well, everyone.
(If there is one thing you can say about Dwight, it’s that he worked from logic, twisted and irrational as it might be. Well, maybe you couldn’t. Pam cocks her head to the side and looks up. Once he said something about his speed being somewhere between a snake and mongoose, and don’t snakes eat mongooses? Mongooses? Mongeese? Do you know?)
Pam has to admit she was interested in Karen from the first day, when Karen complimented Pam’s sweater. As soon as she said, “My mom made it,” she realized how dorky that sounded, how old-Pam that was, but Karen seemed to think that was pretty cool. Of course, this was before she knew who Karen was - that is, Karen was part of Jim’s life, the life he left Pam behind for, and isn’t karma a bitch? (Would the old Pam have said that? She doesn’t answer.)
So when it’s Christmas and there’s no alcohol and Karen gets that wicked gleam in her eye, the type of look Pam used to see in Jim, back in the day, when they had a language purely out of eye contact, the language he has forgotten and the language she’s trying to erase with her paints, Pam smiles and says, of course!
But Karen has a heart, just like Pam, and they invite Angela and complement her brownies, and in the end they all get together and Pam gets a warm feeling in her heart, the fuzzy Campell’s chicken noodle soup feeling she’s trying not to feel anymore, and she knows she has Karen to thank.
It’s true that Dunder Mifflin is different for Pam now that Karen is there. Sure, she always got along fine with everyone, but in Karen she not only has the potential for a friend, she might have an ally. Of course, she always thought she had those things in Jim, but Jim is different since coming back, and Jim doesn’t want her anyway, so what does it matter if she goes back to dating Roy, or goes out for drinks with Karen?
She’s never really had a girlfriend, the sort that Karen has the potential to be. It’s not that she’s ever hated women, or anything, it’s just that, well, she was quiet in school and then she had Roy, and all of Roy’s friends, and what more really could you want, when you were engaged and ready to be married to the man you’d loved your entire life?
But she called the wedding off. She stopped being the old-Pam. She started to take control. Yes, Jim kissed her, but she kissed him back. And then, then she realized, and she said no, but it was too late and the damage had been done. (Wasn’t there a Sheryl Crow song with that title? Or Paula Cole? Karen would know; Karen has an amazing memory for songs that get stuck in your head for random reasons.)
So Pam’s in control of her life, and when Karen says, “Do you think it’s weird that Jim is being funny about me moving down the street from him?” Pam can say honestly, with no bias, that Karen should move into the house, because it’s a nice neighborhood and it’s close to work, and Karen just moved to Scranton whereas Pam’s lived here her entire life, and chances are Karen doesn’t even know who the Red Barons were, or why she should care about them. Karen’s got a cute car, and cute clothes that probably fit right in at the Stamford office, but this is Scranton, a little more blue-collar, a little more down-to-earth, Pam likes to think, and sometimes-frumpy skirts are appreciated just as much as a $200 pair of pants. Not that Pam researched Karen’s pants online, waiting for the phone to ring, or anything.
Pam’s a big girl now, and she’s taking the world by storm. She’s signed up for art classes, and while she knows that’s not something all together impressive, just the fact that she went to campus and found the class and decided to sign up for it means something, because the old-Pam was happy simply designing her wedding.
(In way, it’s nice to know that all my hard work didn’t go to waste - Phyllis’ wedding was beautiful, and hey, I’m glad it wasn’t me in that dress. What do I mean? She was marrying Bob Vance, and I just don’t know if I could deal with the pressure of the fame and fortune and name recognition that come with being Bob Vance’s wife.)
New-Pam is going to do more than deal with seating arrangements, she’s going to have a passion, and she’s going to follow it.
*
They go and see a movie together. Karen loves the smell of popcorn, while Pam’s all about the soda, so they split a combo. Karen shoves two straws in the lid of the Diet Coke and says, “I’ll be the taller one, okay?” She smiles. “Unless you really want to be the taller one.” Pam gives a small smile, and waves Karen away with her free hand - the other is balancing a large bucket of popcorn. “It’s fine.” Karen shrugs, and they go into the theater.
Scranton got a new movie theater in the past few years (Pam can’t remember the last time she went to a movie, can’t remember the last time she really cared about anything in Scranton) and the theater’s huge. Karen lets out a low whistle and says, “Man, this place is huge. Where do you want to sit?”
“I don’t care,” Pam says, automatically, because Roy had always chosen everything, and Pam liked Roy, so it followed that Pam would like what Roy liked, right? But then Pam catches herself, and thinks that she’s a new-Pam now, and she says emphatically, “I mean, let’s sit right in the middle.”
And Karen laughs and starts making her way dead center. Once there, she surveys the area. “I don’t know. We could move on row down and actually be dead center. This might be off a little.” Karen makes a big deal of staring at the ceiling and the rows in front and behind her, like she’s a surveyor or something.
Pam cracks up and hits Karen lightly on the arm, and announces that if they shift one seat to the right, they’ll be perfect. Karen agrees, and throws her coat on the chosen chair, and sits on top of it. Pam stands awkwardly with the bucket of popcorn as Karen takes a sip of soda and watches her.
“Oh! Do you want me to hold the popcorn?”
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Pam says, and quickly shrugs out of her coat. She sits down and sets her coat on her lap, and absently smoothes her hair.
“It looks good,” Karen says, “Not that I was looking or anything.”
Pam smiles, because she doesn’t know what to say, and if she’s learned anything at Dunder Mifflin, it’s that a smile can get you out of a lot of interesting situations.
“I’ll take that,” Pam says, reaching for the popcorn. She puts the bucket on top of her coat, turns to Karen, and whispers, “The previews are sometimes my favorite part. That’s totally dorky, right?”
“A little.” Karen sips the soda (using the taller straw) and then offers it to Pam. Pam reaches for it, and Karen says, “Hey, you gotta give me the popcorn in return. Fair’s fair, and all.” Pam doesn’t really care because she’s more of a soda girl anyway. Karen puts the popcorn between them, and looks satisfied. There’s something awkward about the moment, something that makes Pam want the lights to dim right away, and she fiddles with the straws. Karen starts talking about something, Pam thinks it might have something to do with the fact that Andy has been calling Jim (and Dwight) with regular updates on how his anger management classes are going, and how sometimes he calls at two in the morning, but Pam doesn’t really want to think about how Karen knows that Andy calls Jim at two in the morning, especially since, well, Jim doesn’t really talk to Pam anymore.
(How do I feel about that? Well, it’s fine. I mean, we’re friends. Of course, we’re friends. But friends have lives outside each other. And I have Roy now, and he’s still with Karen - Oh, I think Karen’s really cool. I’m happy for them both. Really. You don’t believe me, do you? You know, I think you’re always trying to stir up a little drama. Who knows what goes on in that crazy camera-head of yours. Oh, you weren’t expecting that? Didn’t you catch the part where I said I wasn’t Pammy anymore? You really should pay more attention. Who knows what is getting lost on your editing floor?)
The lights dim and Pam claps quietly in her seat, and Karen giggles. “I’ve never seen someone so excited about the movies. I should take you more often.” Pam looks quickly at Karen’s face, but the previews haven’t started yet, so she can’t make out Karen’s face.
During the movie their hands bang together as they reach for the popcorn. Pam stops apologizing after the third time, and starts to think about how nice it is that there’s someone she can share popcorn and soda with. Roy refused to spend that much money on movie food, and so Pam used to sneak in her own snacks. This is much better, she thinks.
They both decided to see “Catch and Release,” because Jim doesn’t like girly movies and either does Roy, and they were both in the mood for something cheesy. Plus, Karen admitted to always having a soft spot for Jennifer Garner, and when Pam said “13 Going on 30” was one of her favorite movies, Karen grabbed Pam in a hug and said, “I’m so glad I found you. Scranton would be miserable without you.” Pam wants to ask, what about Jim? But she’s the new-Pam, and not everything is about Jim, and new-Pam has girlfriends and goes to the movies and eats four dollar popcorn.
Karen starts sniffling during the scene where Jennifer Garner is talking about all the things her fiancée never knew about her. But Pam doesn’t get teary until near the end, when her character goes to the storage room and finds her wedding dress, and puts it on. Of course, the cute guy has to find her like that, sitting on the couch in the dress she never got to wear (it’s a beautiful dress), and Pam’s heart just breaks, and she can’t stop crying throughout the rest of the movie, even with it’s happy ending.
Karen doesn’t say anything, just passes Pam napkins in the dark.
When the lights come up and Pam’s eyes are all read, Karen announces that she has to pee like a racehorse, just loud enough to make Pam look around nervously. She grabs her coat and follows Karen to the restroom, and is glad that Karen doesn’t say anything about the fact she sobbed through the last half of a Jennifer Garner romantic comedy.
Later, on the street, Pam’s arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, Karen’s arms swinging lightly, Karen asks, “Did you ever wear your dress? I mean, after the wedding was called off?”
Pam doesn’t want to know how Karen knows the whole story of her and Roy, and probably her and Jim, so she focuses on where to put her feet on the snowy sidewalk. She is always careful of slipping on ice. On of Pam’s biggest fears is falling on her butt in public and not being able to get up without crying, so she’s very careful when she walks in winter.
“Ummm, no. I had my mom take it back to the store for me. I only had a short period of time to get my deposit back.”
“That’s like, the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” and Pam keeps staring at the sidewalk, noticing the shadows and the way the light reflects off the snow. “But wasn’t the part where Gray was telling everyone about how she can fit her whole fist in her mouth like the cutest thing ever?” and Pam is grateful Karen’s changing the subject.
“Yes! Sometimes I wonder about all the things Roy doesn’t know about me, and what would happen if he died.”
“But you’ve been with Roy for like, forever, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” Pam smiled down at the snow, “But a girl’s gotta have some secrets.”
“Oooh, Pam!” Karen grabs Pam’s arm and holds tight. “You have to tell me.”
Pam hesitates. “Okay, but you have to tell me something too.”
“Deal.” Karen sticks her hand out so Pam can shake on it, making it all official, and Pam thinks of how she was blood sisters with this girl in second grade, and she can’t remember that’s girl’s name, and isn’t that horrible?
Pam takes a deep breath and thinks. “Sometimes, I tell Roy I’m going to the grocery, and I buy an extra box of Entenmanns, and I eat the whole box before I get home.”
Karen laughs. “That isn’t bad at all.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, what’s yours?”
“Hmmm, something I’ve never told anyone I dated . . . well. I don’t know if this counts, cause the person is question I was kind of dating, but. In college, I dated Alice Speirmann for six months, and it was my longest relationship.”
Pam’s hand flies to her mouth, and she stops dead in her tracks. She looks at Karen incredulously. “Seriously? You dated . . . a girl?”
Karen half-smiles. “Shocking, isn’t it? You can just imagine what would happen if the office found out about that. And as much as I trust Halpert, I don’t know if he could deal with something like that.”
Pam can’t respond to that, her mind is still trying to picture Karen in the arms of another woman, a woman named Alice. “ Was it - I mean -“
Karen looks seriously at Pam, and then bursts into laughter. “It was the best damn sex of my life,” she says, and Pam starts laughing too, though she isn’t sure why.
They hop in Karen’s car, and she asks, “Pizza at the new place on the corner?” and Pam doesn’t have any other plans, and the old-Pam would have declined, but she’s the new-Pam, and the new-Pam does stuff. So she says yes, and she orders onion on her pizza, even though she knows it will make her breath smell, because she likes onions, and Karen won’t care.
*
One night Karen calls her up while she was working on a sketch, and asks if she wants to learn how to knit.
“Umm,” Pam twirls her hair, catches herself, and stops. “I already know the basic stitches. You know, my mom taught me. But, I mean, I can never remember how to bind off, and I’ve never actually finished anything so-”
Karen starts laughing. “A simple yes or no would work, you know.”
“Well, when you put it that way. Okay. I mean, yes, I would like to learn how to knit.”
“Great, come on over.”
“Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nah, I got it all. Extra needles and everything. I went a little crazy at Ben Franklin’s over the weekend.” There’s a pause and a bang and then Karen says, “Sorry, I dropped the phone. Anyway, you know how to get here, right?”
Pam doesn’t say, of course, because Karen lives on the same street as Jim, but. “Mapquest and I are best friends. Anyway, I’ve lived in Scranton my whole life. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll be the house with the Christmas lights still up, as I haven’t really gotten around to taking them down.”
Pam smiles, then realizes that Karen can’t see her. “I’ll be over soon.” She twines her fingers through the phone cord. “Thanks, Karen.”
“Hey, no problem. You’re keeping me from stabbing myself with these needles anyway, so you’re really doing me the favor.”
Pam laughs and hangs up the phone. She only pauses a moment to think of how she used to think of Jim as her best friend, how she thought she had everything - a best friend, a fiancée, a decent job that she didn’t all together hate. How deluded old-Pam was. New-Pam has much more - confidence, art classes, a place to live that’s her own, new friends, and - she doesn’t know. She’s going to Karen’s house, down the street from Jim, and the more she thinks about it, the less weird it is.
(It was hilarious! Karen found “how to knit” videos off of YouTube. She got about two rows done before she got bored. I think I’m going to make people scarves for Christmas - if I start now, I should have plenty of time to get them done. Oh, what did we do if we didn’t knit? Well, it’s amazing what you can find on YouTube, I had no idea . . . No, I’m not going to tell you what we looked at. But there’s pretty much everything on there, so you know.)
*
When Roy throws his glass against the bar mirror, Pam knows that it’s time for her leave. She knows, in that instant, that everything is not the way she thought it was, the new-Pam didn’t have everything she thought she had, that she wanted, that old-Pam was still there, or she wouldn’t have agreed to start seeing Roy again in the first place.
And maybe it was the fact that Karen and Jim were at some fancy party with Michael and Jan, while she was with the rest of the office at the local dive bar. She was drinking light beer, and feeling like such a girl, but then she decided she was going to be straight with Roy. That she wanted Roy to know she was a wanted woman, that there was a point when she could have left him for Jim, for someone that risked everything just to tell her that he loved her, and then left because he couldn’t be around her and be happy jut being a friend.
Pam thought that it was okay, that their friendship could withstand. But then he was gone, and Ryan took his desk, and nothing was the same. But new-Pam was okay, she was taking art classes and she had a cute apartment that was her own, that she could decorate however she wanted, with no male input, and no empty beer cans overflowing in the recycle bin.
So Pam leaves, because she’s new-Pam, and she can, she has a safe place to go home to, that’s hers. No one else will be there when she gets home. And she doesn’t call her mom, because that’s what old-Pam would have done.
And Pam doesn’t think about what Karen is doing, and what Jim is doing, and what they might be doing together later. She doesn’t even think about why Karen didn’t come to her art show, or why Jim didn’t, or why it might bother her even more that Karen didn’t come than Jim. After all, Jim she could maybe understand, because she said no to Jim, but she never did anything to Karen. She’s been nothing but nice to Karen, even though Karen -
(What was I going to say? Oh, nothing. Just that I understood. I mean, I did things with Roy that I wouldn’t have done on my own, and I stayed home when he wanted to. That’s part of the reason there’s no Pammy anymore. You know? When you’re with someone, you make sacrifices. No, really. I mean it.)
*
Pam’s apartment is somehow not what she wants. She flops herself on her couch, and checks what is on her TiVo. She isn’t in the mood for comedy, or drama, so that pretty much rules out everything. She idly puts on Grey’s, but she doesn’t really care what’s going on with Meredith. It used to be that her TiVo was an escape, but then it turned a little too much like real life. Or something. It wasn’t as if Pam is comparing herself to some characters on tv, not really. She’s just . . . she has to get out of her apartment.
Luckily (or not so luckily) there’s another bar right down the street. At three in the morning when the University of Scranton kids are drunkenly walking home, Pam usually curses the fact she can’t afford something in a different neighborhood. But tonight it makes sense, tonight it’s a blessing.
So Pam goes to the bar, and she sits on the stool, and she orders something with vodka, something very not-Pam. And there’s a man that sits beside her, who doesn’t look anything like anyone she knows, who says nice things about her hair. Pam doesn’t think about how Karen recommended her a de-frizz conditioner, told her that sometimes splurging on products was completely worth it. Instead Pam let’s the man touch her thigh, and she lets him buy her a drink (though she insists on ordering for herself) and later, when she follows him home, she thinks that this is definitely something old-Pam would never have done.
*
The next morning, Pam sneaks out of the random apartment and walks down the street, trying to get her bearings. After a moment she realizes that she’s closer to Jim’s - no, closer to Karen’s - street than her own, and somehow she figures, it will be easier to get to Karen’s place than her own.
So Pam walks up the street that is all too familiar, and knocks at the door of the small little house with the Christmas lights. She’s conscious that her hair is a mess and her clothes are definitely what she wore yesterday, but Karen answers the door before she can run away.
“Hey,” Karen says, wrapping her robe around her middle and yawning. “What’s up?”
“Umm, I shouldn’t have come,” Pam is almost crying now and she has to get away, she has to go, because there’s no reason for her to be here, really, there isn’t and Karen puts her hand on Pam’s shoulder, stopping her.
“What’s wrong?” Pam doesn’t answer. “Pam, seriously, you can tell me anything. What happened?” And Karen’s voice is both no-nonsense and completely comforting.
“I, uh, I went home with this guy. Last night. Because Roy and I - well, yeah.”
Karen looks at her and gives her a half-smile. “You know, I always thought that if you were going to leave Roy, it would be for me.”
And Pam can’t tell if she’s kidding or not, can’t tell if this is something that makes sense or is something completely wrong, but. Maybe Karen is kidding, after all, she’s smiling in that weird way, and then Karen reaches out and wraps Pam in a hug.
*
the end.
Title: begin to rewrite me now.
Author: another_juxtaposition/furies.
Recipient: pirateygoodness.
Fandom: the office.
Pairing: karen/pam.
Rating: g! hah, i suck.
Word count: 3,789 words.
Disclaimer: definitely not mine, though i’ve spent enough time in scranton and lackawanna county that i feel i should be honorary, or something. (just be glad there’s no extensive story about karen’s first trip to the coal mine. yeah, i know.)
*
Pam likes Jim, and Jim likes Karen. Therefore, Pam likes Karen. It’s the same as how Pam likes playing pranks, and Jim likes playing pranks, so Pam likes Jim. Or something. Roy never took anything related to symbolic logic, and Pam only knows what she’s learned listening to Dwight be obnoxious to, well, everyone.
(If there is one thing you can say about Dwight, it’s that he worked from logic, twisted and irrational as it might be. Well, maybe you couldn’t. Pam cocks her head to the side and looks up. Once he said something about his speed being somewhere between a snake and mongoose, and don’t snakes eat mongooses? Mongooses? Mongeese? Do you know?)
Pam has to admit she was interested in Karen from the first day, when Karen complimented Pam’s sweater. As soon as she said, “My mom made it,” she realized how dorky that sounded, how old-Pam that was, but Karen seemed to think that was pretty cool. Of course, this was before she knew who Karen was - that is, Karen was part of Jim’s life, the life he left Pam behind for, and isn’t karma a bitch? (Would the old Pam have said that? She doesn’t answer.)
So when it’s Christmas and there’s no alcohol and Karen gets that wicked gleam in her eye, the type of look Pam used to see in Jim, back in the day, when they had a language purely out of eye contact, the language he has forgotten and the language she’s trying to erase with her paints, Pam smiles and says, of course!
But Karen has a heart, just like Pam, and they invite Angela and complement her brownies, and in the end they all get together and Pam gets a warm feeling in her heart, the fuzzy Campell’s chicken noodle soup feeling she’s trying not to feel anymore, and she knows she has Karen to thank.
It’s true that Dunder Mifflin is different for Pam now that Karen is there. Sure, she always got along fine with everyone, but in Karen she not only has the potential for a friend, she might have an ally. Of course, she always thought she had those things in Jim, but Jim is different since coming back, and Jim doesn’t want her anyway, so what does it matter if she goes back to dating Roy, or goes out for drinks with Karen?
She’s never really had a girlfriend, the sort that Karen has the potential to be. It’s not that she’s ever hated women, or anything, it’s just that, well, she was quiet in school and then she had Roy, and all of Roy’s friends, and what more really could you want, when you were engaged and ready to be married to the man you’d loved your entire life?
But she called the wedding off. She stopped being the old-Pam. She started to take control. Yes, Jim kissed her, but she kissed him back. And then, then she realized, and she said no, but it was too late and the damage had been done. (Wasn’t there a Sheryl Crow song with that title? Or Paula Cole? Karen would know; Karen has an amazing memory for songs that get stuck in your head for random reasons.)
So Pam’s in control of her life, and when Karen says, “Do you think it’s weird that Jim is being funny about me moving down the street from him?” Pam can say honestly, with no bias, that Karen should move into the house, because it’s a nice neighborhood and it’s close to work, and Karen just moved to Scranton whereas Pam’s lived here her entire life, and chances are Karen doesn’t even know who the Red Barons were, or why she should care about them. Karen’s got a cute car, and cute clothes that probably fit right in at the Stamford office, but this is Scranton, a little more blue-collar, a little more down-to-earth, Pam likes to think, and sometimes-frumpy skirts are appreciated just as much as a $200 pair of pants. Not that Pam researched Karen’s pants online, waiting for the phone to ring, or anything.
Pam’s a big girl now, and she’s taking the world by storm. She’s signed up for art classes, and while she knows that’s not something all together impressive, just the fact that she went to campus and found the class and decided to sign up for it means something, because the old-Pam was happy simply designing her wedding.
(In way, it’s nice to know that all my hard work didn’t go to waste - Phyllis’ wedding was beautiful, and hey, I’m glad it wasn’t me in that dress. What do I mean? She was marrying Bob Vance, and I just don’t know if I could deal with the pressure of the fame and fortune and name recognition that come with being Bob Vance’s wife.)
New-Pam is going to do more than deal with seating arrangements, she’s going to have a passion, and she’s going to follow it.
*
They go and see a movie together. Karen loves the smell of popcorn, while Pam’s all about the soda, so they split a combo. Karen shoves two straws in the lid of the Diet Coke and says, “I’ll be the taller one, okay?” She smiles. “Unless you really want to be the taller one.” Pam gives a small smile, and waves Karen away with her free hand - the other is balancing a large bucket of popcorn. “It’s fine.” Karen shrugs, and they go into the theater.
Scranton got a new movie theater in the past few years (Pam can’t remember the last time she went to a movie, can’t remember the last time she really cared about anything in Scranton) and the theater’s huge. Karen lets out a low whistle and says, “Man, this place is huge. Where do you want to sit?”
“I don’t care,” Pam says, automatically, because Roy had always chosen everything, and Pam liked Roy, so it followed that Pam would like what Roy liked, right? But then Pam catches herself, and thinks that she’s a new-Pam now, and she says emphatically, “I mean, let’s sit right in the middle.”
And Karen laughs and starts making her way dead center. Once there, she surveys the area. “I don’t know. We could move on row down and actually be dead center. This might be off a little.” Karen makes a big deal of staring at the ceiling and the rows in front and behind her, like she’s a surveyor or something.
Pam cracks up and hits Karen lightly on the arm, and announces that if they shift one seat to the right, they’ll be perfect. Karen agrees, and throws her coat on the chosen chair, and sits on top of it. Pam stands awkwardly with the bucket of popcorn as Karen takes a sip of soda and watches her.
“Oh! Do you want me to hold the popcorn?”
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Pam says, and quickly shrugs out of her coat. She sits down and sets her coat on her lap, and absently smoothes her hair.
“It looks good,” Karen says, “Not that I was looking or anything.”
Pam smiles, because she doesn’t know what to say, and if she’s learned anything at Dunder Mifflin, it’s that a smile can get you out of a lot of interesting situations.
“I’ll take that,” Pam says, reaching for the popcorn. She puts the bucket on top of her coat, turns to Karen, and whispers, “The previews are sometimes my favorite part. That’s totally dorky, right?”
“A little.” Karen sips the soda (using the taller straw) and then offers it to Pam. Pam reaches for it, and Karen says, “Hey, you gotta give me the popcorn in return. Fair’s fair, and all.” Pam doesn’t really care because she’s more of a soda girl anyway. Karen puts the popcorn between them, and looks satisfied. There’s something awkward about the moment, something that makes Pam want the lights to dim right away, and she fiddles with the straws. Karen starts talking about something, Pam thinks it might have something to do with the fact that Andy has been calling Jim (and Dwight) with regular updates on how his anger management classes are going, and how sometimes he calls at two in the morning, but Pam doesn’t really want to think about how Karen knows that Andy calls Jim at two in the morning, especially since, well, Jim doesn’t really talk to Pam anymore.
(How do I feel about that? Well, it’s fine. I mean, we’re friends. Of course, we’re friends. But friends have lives outside each other. And I have Roy now, and he’s still with Karen - Oh, I think Karen’s really cool. I’m happy for them both. Really. You don’t believe me, do you? You know, I think you’re always trying to stir up a little drama. Who knows what goes on in that crazy camera-head of yours. Oh, you weren’t expecting that? Didn’t you catch the part where I said I wasn’t Pammy anymore? You really should pay more attention. Who knows what is getting lost on your editing floor?)
The lights dim and Pam claps quietly in her seat, and Karen giggles. “I’ve never seen someone so excited about the movies. I should take you more often.” Pam looks quickly at Karen’s face, but the previews haven’t started yet, so she can’t make out Karen’s face.
During the movie their hands bang together as they reach for the popcorn. Pam stops apologizing after the third time, and starts to think about how nice it is that there’s someone she can share popcorn and soda with. Roy refused to spend that much money on movie food, and so Pam used to sneak in her own snacks. This is much better, she thinks.
They both decided to see “Catch and Release,” because Jim doesn’t like girly movies and either does Roy, and they were both in the mood for something cheesy. Plus, Karen admitted to always having a soft spot for Jennifer Garner, and when Pam said “13 Going on 30” was one of her favorite movies, Karen grabbed Pam in a hug and said, “I’m so glad I found you. Scranton would be miserable without you.” Pam wants to ask, what about Jim? But she’s the new-Pam, and not everything is about Jim, and new-Pam has girlfriends and goes to the movies and eats four dollar popcorn.
Karen starts sniffling during the scene where Jennifer Garner is talking about all the things her fiancée never knew about her. But Pam doesn’t get teary until near the end, when her character goes to the storage room and finds her wedding dress, and puts it on. Of course, the cute guy has to find her like that, sitting on the couch in the dress she never got to wear (it’s a beautiful dress), and Pam’s heart just breaks, and she can’t stop crying throughout the rest of the movie, even with it’s happy ending.
Karen doesn’t say anything, just passes Pam napkins in the dark.
When the lights come up and Pam’s eyes are all read, Karen announces that she has to pee like a racehorse, just loud enough to make Pam look around nervously. She grabs her coat and follows Karen to the restroom, and is glad that Karen doesn’t say anything about the fact she sobbed through the last half of a Jennifer Garner romantic comedy.
Later, on the street, Pam’s arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, Karen’s arms swinging lightly, Karen asks, “Did you ever wear your dress? I mean, after the wedding was called off?”
Pam doesn’t want to know how Karen knows the whole story of her and Roy, and probably her and Jim, so she focuses on where to put her feet on the snowy sidewalk. She is always careful of slipping on ice. On of Pam’s biggest fears is falling on her butt in public and not being able to get up without crying, so she’s very careful when she walks in winter.
“Ummm, no. I had my mom take it back to the store for me. I only had a short period of time to get my deposit back.”
“That’s like, the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” and Pam keeps staring at the sidewalk, noticing the shadows and the way the light reflects off the snow. “But wasn’t the part where Gray was telling everyone about how she can fit her whole fist in her mouth like the cutest thing ever?” and Pam is grateful Karen’s changing the subject.
“Yes! Sometimes I wonder about all the things Roy doesn’t know about me, and what would happen if he died.”
“But you’ve been with Roy for like, forever, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” Pam smiled down at the snow, “But a girl’s gotta have some secrets.”
“Oooh, Pam!” Karen grabs Pam’s arm and holds tight. “You have to tell me.”
Pam hesitates. “Okay, but you have to tell me something too.”
“Deal.” Karen sticks her hand out so Pam can shake on it, making it all official, and Pam thinks of how she was blood sisters with this girl in second grade, and she can’t remember that’s girl’s name, and isn’t that horrible?
Pam takes a deep breath and thinks. “Sometimes, I tell Roy I’m going to the grocery, and I buy an extra box of Entenmanns, and I eat the whole box before I get home.”
Karen laughs. “That isn’t bad at all.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, what’s yours?”
“Hmmm, something I’ve never told anyone I dated . . . well. I don’t know if this counts, cause the person is question I was kind of dating, but. In college, I dated Alice Speirmann for six months, and it was my longest relationship.”
Pam’s hand flies to her mouth, and she stops dead in her tracks. She looks at Karen incredulously. “Seriously? You dated . . . a girl?”
Karen half-smiles. “Shocking, isn’t it? You can just imagine what would happen if the office found out about that. And as much as I trust Halpert, I don’t know if he could deal with something like that.”
Pam can’t respond to that, her mind is still trying to picture Karen in the arms of another woman, a woman named Alice. “ Was it - I mean -“
Karen looks seriously at Pam, and then bursts into laughter. “It was the best damn sex of my life,” she says, and Pam starts laughing too, though she isn’t sure why.
They hop in Karen’s car, and she asks, “Pizza at the new place on the corner?” and Pam doesn’t have any other plans, and the old-Pam would have declined, but she’s the new-Pam, and the new-Pam does stuff. So she says yes, and she orders onion on her pizza, even though she knows it will make her breath smell, because she likes onions, and Karen won’t care.
*
One night Karen calls her up while she was working on a sketch, and asks if she wants to learn how to knit.
“Umm,” Pam twirls her hair, catches herself, and stops. “I already know the basic stitches. You know, my mom taught me. But, I mean, I can never remember how to bind off, and I’ve never actually finished anything so-”
Karen starts laughing. “A simple yes or no would work, you know.”
“Well, when you put it that way. Okay. I mean, yes, I would like to learn how to knit.”
“Great, come on over.”
“Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nah, I got it all. Extra needles and everything. I went a little crazy at Ben Franklin’s over the weekend.” There’s a pause and a bang and then Karen says, “Sorry, I dropped the phone. Anyway, you know how to get here, right?”
Pam doesn’t say, of course, because Karen lives on the same street as Jim, but. “Mapquest and I are best friends. Anyway, I’ve lived in Scranton my whole life. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll be the house with the Christmas lights still up, as I haven’t really gotten around to taking them down.”
Pam smiles, then realizes that Karen can’t see her. “I’ll be over soon.” She twines her fingers through the phone cord. “Thanks, Karen.”
“Hey, no problem. You’re keeping me from stabbing myself with these needles anyway, so you’re really doing me the favor.”
Pam laughs and hangs up the phone. She only pauses a moment to think of how she used to think of Jim as her best friend, how she thought she had everything - a best friend, a fiancée, a decent job that she didn’t all together hate. How deluded old-Pam was. New-Pam has much more - confidence, art classes, a place to live that’s her own, new friends, and - she doesn’t know. She’s going to Karen’s house, down the street from Jim, and the more she thinks about it, the less weird it is.
(It was hilarious! Karen found “how to knit” videos off of YouTube. She got about two rows done before she got bored. I think I’m going to make people scarves for Christmas - if I start now, I should have plenty of time to get them done. Oh, what did we do if we didn’t knit? Well, it’s amazing what you can find on YouTube, I had no idea . . . No, I’m not going to tell you what we looked at. But there’s pretty much everything on there, so you know.)
*
When Roy throws his glass against the bar mirror, Pam knows that it’s time for her leave. She knows, in that instant, that everything is not the way she thought it was, the new-Pam didn’t have everything she thought she had, that she wanted, that old-Pam was still there, or she wouldn’t have agreed to start seeing Roy again in the first place.
And maybe it was the fact that Karen and Jim were at some fancy party with Michael and Jan, while she was with the rest of the office at the local dive bar. She was drinking light beer, and feeling like such a girl, but then she decided she was going to be straight with Roy. That she wanted Roy to know she was a wanted woman, that there was a point when she could have left him for Jim, for someone that risked everything just to tell her that he loved her, and then left because he couldn’t be around her and be happy jut being a friend.
Pam thought that it was okay, that their friendship could withstand. But then he was gone, and Ryan took his desk, and nothing was the same. But new-Pam was okay, she was taking art classes and she had a cute apartment that was her own, that she could decorate however she wanted, with no male input, and no empty beer cans overflowing in the recycle bin.
So Pam leaves, because she’s new-Pam, and she can, she has a safe place to go home to, that’s hers. No one else will be there when she gets home. And she doesn’t call her mom, because that’s what old-Pam would have done.
And Pam doesn’t think about what Karen is doing, and what Jim is doing, and what they might be doing together later. She doesn’t even think about why Karen didn’t come to her art show, or why Jim didn’t, or why it might bother her even more that Karen didn’t come than Jim. After all, Jim she could maybe understand, because she said no to Jim, but she never did anything to Karen. She’s been nothing but nice to Karen, even though Karen -
(What was I going to say? Oh, nothing. Just that I understood. I mean, I did things with Roy that I wouldn’t have done on my own, and I stayed home when he wanted to. That’s part of the reason there’s no Pammy anymore. You know? When you’re with someone, you make sacrifices. No, really. I mean it.)
*
Pam’s apartment is somehow not what she wants. She flops herself on her couch, and checks what is on her TiVo. She isn’t in the mood for comedy, or drama, so that pretty much rules out everything. She idly puts on Grey’s, but she doesn’t really care what’s going on with Meredith. It used to be that her TiVo was an escape, but then it turned a little too much like real life. Or something. It wasn’t as if Pam is comparing herself to some characters on tv, not really. She’s just . . . she has to get out of her apartment.
Luckily (or not so luckily) there’s another bar right down the street. At three in the morning when the University of Scranton kids are drunkenly walking home, Pam usually curses the fact she can’t afford something in a different neighborhood. But tonight it makes sense, tonight it’s a blessing.
So Pam goes to the bar, and she sits on the stool, and she orders something with vodka, something very not-Pam. And there’s a man that sits beside her, who doesn’t look anything like anyone she knows, who says nice things about her hair. Pam doesn’t think about how Karen recommended her a de-frizz conditioner, told her that sometimes splurging on products was completely worth it. Instead Pam let’s the man touch her thigh, and she lets him buy her a drink (though she insists on ordering for herself) and later, when she follows him home, she thinks that this is definitely something old-Pam would never have done.
*
The next morning, Pam sneaks out of the random apartment and walks down the street, trying to get her bearings. After a moment she realizes that she’s closer to Jim’s - no, closer to Karen’s - street than her own, and somehow she figures, it will be easier to get to Karen’s place than her own.
So Pam walks up the street that is all too familiar, and knocks at the door of the small little house with the Christmas lights. She’s conscious that her hair is a mess and her clothes are definitely what she wore yesterday, but Karen answers the door before she can run away.
“Hey,” Karen says, wrapping her robe around her middle and yawning. “What’s up?”
“Umm, I shouldn’t have come,” Pam is almost crying now and she has to get away, she has to go, because there’s no reason for her to be here, really, there isn’t and Karen puts her hand on Pam’s shoulder, stopping her.
“What’s wrong?” Pam doesn’t answer. “Pam, seriously, you can tell me anything. What happened?” And Karen’s voice is both no-nonsense and completely comforting.
“I, uh, I went home with this guy. Last night. Because Roy and I - well, yeah.”
Karen looks at her and gives her a half-smile. “You know, I always thought that if you were going to leave Roy, it would be for me.”
And Pam can’t tell if she’s kidding or not, can’t tell if this is something that makes sense or is something completely wrong, but. Maybe Karen is kidding, after all, she’s smiling in that weird way, and then Karen reaches out and wraps Pam in a hug.
*
the end.