Jim sat smirking, using every last shred of his willpower to keep from bursting into laughter. As Andy plucked away on his banjo, simultaneously hitting a series of unbearably high notes, Jim became seriously concerned he might lose it and blow his cover. Fortunately, however, many years with Dwight and several months with Andy had given him more than enough practice in restraining himself.

Upon his return from Stamford, things had been uncomfortable to the point of nausea between him and Pam. Their first real conversation at the vending machines had been painfully awkward. But day by day, the situation grew easier to deal with and they found ways to have conversations not contaminated by long pauses or clumsy interruptions. Today, he felt confident that this particular joke of his would be well received, because it was light-hearted, harmless, and undeniably funny.

And as Andy’s voice grew louder and higher while the lyrics became cheesier and more obscure, Jim knew that this would be a win. He desperately wanted to swivel around in his desk chair and watch, but it was better that he lay low. Besides, he didn’t need to see her face to know her exact reaction to Andy’s delicate, heartfelt serenade.

The song started to wind down, and Jim had a feeling that by now, she knew exactly how and by whom she had been set up. He was feeling rather proud of himself and eagerly anticipated teasing her about it for the rest of the week.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of Andy’s normal, non-falsetto voice, directed at Pam.

“So, what’d you think?”

“I’m…speechless…” Pam managed. Jim quietly shook his head to himself, smiling, wondering if she was looking at him, if she could tell how much he was enjoying this.

“So, do you think maybe you’d want to have dinner sometime? If you liked this, then I should tell you, there’s this great restaurant in Dunmore that features bluegrass stars all the time, you would love it,” Andy rambled. Jim was surprised by his forwardness, having only known Pam for a little over a week. But no surprise could prepare him for the load of bricks that would follow.

He expected Pam to let Andy down easy, because she was kind and gracious. She always had been. Despite the fact that everything about Andy was nothing short of ridiculous, she would be sweet and simply but briefly say no.

Pam saw Jim perk up, surely interested in how she would turn Andy down. She was planning on making an excuse, or giving him an “I’ll think about it” so she could postpone having to make an excuse. But suddenly her mind transported her to a time a few weeks ago, on the day where she’d talked to Jim for the first time after his leaving, when he got her by mistake. He’d called her Fancy New Beesly . She went home that night, the words ringing in her ears. They were so right, so true.

Her memory took her back further in time, to a night where the air was the perfect temperature, the night was gorgeous, and they broke their friendship into pieces over the sidewalk. And then, after he had the courage to pick the pieces back up and try to show her a different way they could fit together, she’d shattered them entirely.

He put everything on the line, she thought. And he went first. So there’s no way what he did was less scary than what I need to do. He deserves to hear this, for me to break my heart for him, because it’s all I can give him to make things right again.

Now’s my chance. I won’t even have to look directly at him, and so I won’t get scared and chicken out. I can’t chicken out anymore. It’s now or never. Deep breath. Okay.

“Actually, Andy, I’m not really looking to date right now. It’s really nice of you to ask, but…I’m just not in…the right place. It’s kind of a long story. You probably don’t want to know…” Pam trailed off, praying Andy would take the bait. She watched Jim out of her peripheral vision. He was definitely listening. She quickly shook her head, as if to shake out the insecurity and second thoughts that were threatening to take her under. No, she thought. It’s time.

“No, tell me what happened. I’m a good listener,” Andy chirped.

“Well,” she went on, relieved that Andy was predictable.

“There was this guy...named…Joe. He was my best friend. I’d never connected, never gotten along with anyone so well in my life. Not even my fiancé, at the time. Especially not my fiancé. But I never imagined us as anything more than friends. Until one day, he told me he loved me.”

“Oh my god!” Andy interrupted dramatically.

“Yeah,” Pam continued. “I freaked out. I’d been with Roy (my fiancé), ever since high school, and never considered the fact that I might want…I don’t know…something different. Something more. So I told Ji—Joe—that I couldn’t call off my wedding. I was scared out of my mind. No one had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me that night.”

“Wow,” Andy breathed.

“When I came back to work the next day, he wasn’t there, and on Monday, I found out he’d left for another job. I cried for a week straight, and after that everything started to make sense. I called off my wedding, and took some time off work. I went to stay with my parents, and then I moved into my own place. The more time I spent alone, the more I learned about myself. And I realized how static my life had been for so long…I mean, it had been years since I’d sat down and thought about what I wanted. It was so different.”

Andy said nothing, but continued to smile sympathetically and nod at her words. Pam allowed herself to briefly glance over at Jim, who was hunched over his desk, elbows resting, with his face nestled in his hands, eyes covered. She desperately wanted to see his face, to talk to him, now that she’d crossed the threshold into the shaky territory. She wasn’t finished yet, though, so she turned back to Andy.

“I wanted to call him, but I was just so scared. I figured he probably hated me, for lying to his face after we’d been so close,” Pam admitted. Then, more quietly, “I think maybe part of him still does.”

Andy and Pam both looked over at Jim at the sound of a muffled noise that sounded like a cross between a choke and a sob.

“Tuna, what’s up, man?” Andy asked.

Jim knew he had to come up with something, quickly. As soon as he’d unintentionally released that cry of crushing desperation out loud, he’d realized they’d heard him.

“It’s...nothing…” he said hoarsely, trying to regain his composure. Pam silently begged him not to stop talking, to say something…anything else. Jim unknowingly obeyed her silent wish. He picked up his head, but didn’t dare turn to face her. Instead, he started straight ahead at the opposite wall across the room and spoke.

“It’s just…that really sucks for Joe. I mean, he’s sitting at his new job, surely unable to get over someone like Pam, and he has no idea that she’s changed her mind. He’s sitting at his new desk, in a strange new place, spending every minute trying to force himself to think of anything but her. I mean, if that guy knew…” Jim sighed shakily, wondering if he should just leave before he lost it. He took another deep breath.

“If that guy knew, he would have been back here in a second.”

Jim considered leaving it at that, wanting to know more of what Pam had to say, if there was more, but he decided to keep talking. If there was any hope to be had, he would be crazy not to milk it.

Pam was frozen. Frozen in regret, terror. He was with Karen now. He and Karen, though they had a few rough patches, were great together. She was too late. She was about to make an excuse and run for it when Jim interrupted her thoughts.

“The guy’s probably even tried to date other people, but it only makes the process more difficult. Nothing is ever good enough; nothing is ever close enough to what he truly wants to make him happy. So he can never be happy.”
Pam’s eyes had filled with tears. She stared bullets into the back of his head. Please look at me. At one time, a time that seemed impossibly far from now, she and Jim had shared an unspeakably genuine connection—one that was innate, unpracticed, and simple. She would give anything for its power, its ability to unite them, at this moment.

Jim took a deep breath. He knew his face was a mess and his breathing was rough and uneven. He slowly turned around until he could see Pam and Andy. In truth, though, Andy was invisible to him. His eyes went directly to Pam’s, where they locked, like two pieces of a puzzle.
Without taking his eyes off Pam, Jim said quietly, “Andy? I think I’m going to take over from here. So you can go home, and—“

“I don’t mind staying,” Andy interrupted.

“Honestly, Andy, I think Pam needs to go see this guy, and tell him how she really feels. And I know where he lives now, so I’m thinking that…if she’s up for it, I’m going to take her to go see him.”

Pam’s heart, already racing, began thumping at double its previous speed. Jim’s unfaltering gaze was solemn but sure, steady. How she’d missed those eyes, that face.
“Okay, tuna. Good luck, Pam,” Andy said, as he grabbed his briefcase and walked out. Jim and Pam had broken eye contact to watch the door click shut behind him, but they simultaneously looked back at each other.

Pam swallowed as the tears in her eyes wavered on the edge, about to plunge down her cheek. Jim took three large, quick strides to the couch and sat down beside her. His own tears were dangerously close to spilling. He took her face in his hands.

“All this time?” he whispered, worry and impatience and pain and hurt all evident in his voice and on his face.
She nodded slowly, the tears making their way onto Jim’s fingertips.

“I only needed a week, Jim,” she said. Her voice was quiet, ragged. “I know it shouldn’t have taken that long. But once everything you’d said had really…set in, there was no turning back.

Pam took her hands from her face and held them tightly in her lap. She tried to speak, but her voice cracked and she had to cough to clear her throat.

Looking straight into his eyes, she whispered, “Jim, it was always you.”

He looked at her steadily, a thousand different emotions flooding his kind, gentle face.

“You never misinterpreted anything. I did. I thought we were just friends, but never really saw that all along we were so much more than that. Eventually, I realized it, too. You were just one step ahead of me,” Pam said, giving him a small, gentle smile.

He was looking at her with those same eyes, that same expression, as he had on Casino Night. Then, it had made her anxious, uncomfortable, and terrified. Now, it filled her with hope, joy, and an empowerment with the knowledge that she could and would return those feelings and live the life that she wanted, that she deserved.

“Listen,” Jim said. “I have to…take care of some things, but…” Jim trailed off, distracted somewhat by the intensity of the moment, the beauty and prowess of the confidence she radiated, and the promise of things to come.

“I know,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.”

He stared into her eyes again, trying to convey everything he wanted to in a brief, summarized version before he left. Then he took her face in his hands again and pressed a long, lingering kiss to her forehead. Slowly, he got up and walked to his desk for his coat and bag, and then to the door. He looked at her once more as he was about to close it behind him. Not smiling, not upset, but simply taking in everything that had just happened and committing it to memory. Pam’s voice broke him from his trance.

“Jim?” she said, tentatively. He met her eyes.

“I love you.”

He resisted the overwhelmingly powerful urge to drop his stuff, run back to the couch, and pull her into his arms. He told himself that the sooner he took care of his situation with Karen, the sooner that he and Pam could really be together.

“Don’t ever think that I stopped, Beesly,” he said tenderly. “I can’t.”

He smiled, tiredly but wholeheartedly, and gently closed the door behind him.