"Hi, Jim."

“Hey, Marjorie. How’s it going?” He leans against the edge of her desk, offering the frustrated cameraman who follows him everywhere a smug grin as he balks at the kitchen door like an uninvited vampire. 

“Great, thanks. I’m almost done sorting through all Michael’s emails for the month.” She sets down her pen and sits back in her chair. “Are you hiding?”

“You got me. We aren’t all as smart as you. Those waivers are air-tight.” He chuckles wryly. “Bastards.”

Marjorie smiles. “With age comes wisdom, Jim. I have grandkids to think about. I don’t need them to see my sorry life plastered all over the TV.”

“Yeah.” Jim lowers his chin to his chest with a resigned sigh.

Something is bugging him, she can tell. His visit isn’t just some random time-out from the public eye. “Is there something in particular that brings you back to the sanctuary?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just…can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“You’re married, right?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. It’s a habit some of the younger kids have nowadays, a modern way of speaking she’s never really gotten used to. She waits patiently for him to continue, like she always does when Jim swings by her cubicle for a chat. He clears his throat, and she catches him checking for the camera crew, just in case. “How did you know he was the one?”

Ah. This old topic. She’ll indulge him, because she doesn’t get many people wondering about her life and sometimes (although she’ll never admit it) she gets a bit lonely, way in the back where no one ever bothers with what she’s up to. She knows for a fact that at least 60 percent of the staff has no clue what she does in the office. “I was pretty smitten from the beginning, but if I had to pick a moment, it would be when I meet his mother for the first time. She knew everything about me, even though I had only been dating her son for a week.”

Jim blushes slightly, as though he’s remembering something he feels guilty about. “That’s it? That’s how you knew?”

“Well, that’s how I knew he was as much in love with me as I was with him. You don’t tell your mother that much about the woman you’re seeing if you don’t intend on spending the rest of your life with her.” She tries to hide a smile when Jim suddenly sits up a little straighter, struggling with a grin of his own. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah.” He pushes off the edge of her desk and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I think it does.” He’s already distracted, gaze drifting towards the front of the office, finding its target easily through a double layer of slatted kitchen blinds. “Thanks, Marjorie.”

She watches for a few moments as Jim passes out of the annex and wanders over to reception. Her computer chimes and she turns back to the screen with a frown. Michael has sent yet another mass email of something that could ostensibly be from The Discovery Channel, if only it weren’t X-rated.

With a small frown (it’s a good thing her husband swears he loves her, wrinkles and all), Marjorie makes a careful note in her log: 3:15 PM Subject: Educational!!! Dolphins boning like hamsters, then deletes all records of it from the Dunder Mifflin servers.