Chapter Text
September 1987
It was the night before his life changed forever. Joey had just returned home from a showcase at Caroline's, where he had performed for a small but enthusiastic crowd. He was still feeling amped up and was pouring himself a bowl of cereal when the phone rang.
The post-show adrenalin made him jump at the noise even though he had been expecting the call for days. Earlier that week he had heard the news from his mom. She had been in the middle of her monthly call. Every month on the second Sunday, when long distance fees were the lowest, she set her kitchen timer for thirty minutes and called her son on the other side of the country. That day, she had been filling him in on the minutiae of her life. He had been trying to avoid accidentally letting anything slip out about his. Then she had asked him the question so casually – like it was idle gossip and not something that would shatter his world – "Oh, did you hear about Danny's wife? So sad. We’re all praying for her."
He hated that he had heard the news from someone other than Danny, but now it seemed as though his friend was finally ready to reach out. Joey steeled himself for the conversation he couldn't prepare for and picked up the phone. "Hello?”
He was met with silence on the other end.
“Danny?" He asked. "Is that you?"
"Joey, I…I’m sorry to call so late,” Danny’s voice was quiet and cracked from something other than the long distance connection. “Or, God, what time even is it in New York? It’s just-"
"No. It's not too late,” Joey rushed to assure him. “It's fine. I just walked in the door as a matter of fact. And I’m glad you called. I heard about the accident. What do... I mean… How is..." Every question Joey started to ask died in his throat.
"She's not…She's dead. This afternoon they said…" Danny’s voice broke as he forced out the news.
"She’s…she’s gone?" Joey knew there had been a collision with a drunk driver, and he knew it was bad, but he hadn’t let himself believe that the worst was even a possibility.
"After the accident they took her to the hospital. They said she might not make it, and this afternoon…" Joey's head began to buzz as he tried to think of what to say. Pam was one of the most vivacious people he had ever known. Literally full of life. It was impossible to think of her as unmoving. As dead.
***
September 1972
Joey had met her first. He noticed her in History of the English Novel. It was a giant lecture class, filled with undergrads looking for an easy way to fill out a language arts requirement, so noticing anyone felt like kismet. Every Tuesday and Thursday morning 100 bleary-eyed scholars filled the hall. And every Tuesday and Thursday morning Mr. Greer, the professor would stride in and glare at every student with a gaze that found them wanting. Joey was used to getting by on his wit, but he was intimidated by this tiny, humorless man. They were four classes in and he hadn't spoken once, a record for him.
"Are we talking about English literature?" The professor intoned as he did every morning, as he walked into the room. A couple of students nodded. "Well, what are we saying about English literature?" He glanced down at his roll. "Ah, Pamela Katsopolis. Tell me what you think about the book Pamela." Mr. Greer waved a copy of the novel at Pam like it was a magnet that would draw out academic rigor.
Joey sighed with relief. He had only been able to finish half of the book, and he wasn’t entirely sure he understood it. Then he heard her voice. She sounded calm, almost bored, like a woman who had never been intimidated. "Nothing."
"Nothing? She made absolutely no impression on you? I find that hard to believe." The professor grinned like he was baiting a hook. “Did you dislike the novel? A lot of freshmen girls do. There’s no shame in that. Please, share your thoughts with the rest of us.”
"I didn’t like or dislike it. I didn't read it at all. I didn't get around to it."
Joey's head jerked around to get a look at this bold creature sitting behind him. As a class clown he was no stranger to getting in trouble in class, but this person seemed totally at ease and unafraid to just tell the professor that she had blown off his assignment. That was a confidence he couldn't fathom.
"What were you doing -- if I may ask -- that you found more intriguing than my carefully curated syllabus?"
"There was a group doing a consciousness raising in the student union. To be clear, I did start the book, but honestly, after a couple of pages, that seemed like a better use of my time."
"I'm sure Mr. Richardson would be devastated to hear your low opinion of his hard work."
Pam had just shrugged. The professor had seemed flummoxed when he couldn't cow her and eventually he moved on to interrogating another student. This one lacked Pam’s poise and seemed confused about several plot points.
After class Joey approached her. "Hi, I'm Joey."
"Yeah, I saw you glaring at me. Did I offend you? Let me guess: you always do exactly what you’re told. Well, guess what, you have plenty of life left to read terrible novels, but last night is already gone, and I think I made the right choice in how I spent it."
"No! That's not it at all! I wasn't glaring. I just couldn't believe how casual you were. It took such balls to just tell Mr. Greer that you didn't read the book. I thought he was going to explode."
Pam stopped and took him in, "Ovaries."
"What?"
"Come on Joey, it's 1972. You look like an enlightened man. You should know that strength isn’t in the balls. You meant to say it took such ovaries for me to tell that guy his syllabus is full of crap."
Joey laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Damn straight,” Pam smiled and Joey could feel her opinion of him rising.
“Do you want to go to the student union together and get lunch?" he asked, not wanting to leave her presence.
"I have a boyfriend."
"That's OK. I'm gay." It was the first time Joey had said it since he came to college and it was so easy to tell her.
"Oh. I don't actually have a boyfriend."
"Well I actually am gay. Lunch?"
"Let's go."
“My roommate Danny will probably meet us too. I think you’ll like him.”
Pam linked arms with him like they were in a musical and smiled, “We’ll see about that.”
***
September 1987
"Danny, I'm so sorry. I'm coming out there. I'll call an airline and get a flight to San Francisco. I’ll be there as soon as I can. You and the kids shouldn't be alone right now."
"I'm not alone. Her brother..." Danny's voice sounded quiet and distracted, so different from the Danny Joey knew, the Danny who knew what every situation called for and somehow always managed to provide it.
"Her brother?" Joey remembered Pam's brother. He had only met him once, at Danny and Pam's wedding, but he had not had the air of a person who could be counted on in an emergency. "No. I'm coming.” And then he paused. His instinct was to go running, to be by Danny's side. But things had changed when Danny married Pam. Danny had decided that things should change.
“I mean if you want me to..."
"Well, I could use some help with the girls. And we all miss you."
That was all he needed to hear. "I'm already on my way." Joey said and hung up the phone.
***
September 1972
Danny ran into the dorm room holding a long cardboard tube. “It’s finally here!” he exclaimed.
“What’s that?”
Danny ripped the packing tape off of the tube and began to pull out sheet after sheet of glossy paper. “It’s a bunch of posters. I ordered them out of a magazine. Eighty posters for sixty-five cents.”
“You just ordered a bunch of random posters? Why?”
“To hang up. It will make our room look cool.”
“I think the idea is that you collect them, over time, so that they reflect you and your experiences.”
“We don’t have time for that. We’re only here for four years.”
Joey shook his head and began looking through the collection. “A lot of these are just naked women. I think that might give people the wrong idea.”
“Sure, sure, but some of these are great. Look at this one” Danny held up a travel poster for New York City in one hand and a psychedelic Beach Boys print in the other. “Help me hang these!”
Joey knew he was beat and grabbed a roll of tape.
“So that girl was pretty cool,” Danny dropped the line casually, but he didn’t make eye contact.
“Pam? Yeah, she seemed pretty awesome. I think we’re going to become good friends.”
“Already? That’s fast. We just met her.”
“I know, but I heard recently that we’re only here for four years,” Joey leaned over and gave Danny a kiss, before taping up a corner of the smiley face poster he held above their bed.