It’s her first day as receptionist, in a paper supply company that is quiet and mind-numbing.  She isn’t quite sure if she wants to be a receptionist her whole life, but this is probably just a temporary job so she can save up for the wedding.  That has yet to be set.  Besides, she gets to see Roy at lunch and they can drive in to work together.  So the job definitely has its benefits.

She feels guilty for getting excited when one of the guys offers to take her to lunch.  She knows she’s engaged, but he seems too nice to say no to.  Having a friend in the office itself, not just in the warehouse, could be nice.  So she grabs her coat, because he says they’re walking to Cugino’s, just a couple blocks away.

She laughs harder than she’s had in months.  She wonders if its possible to be this funny.

“So is Michael always like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”  He nods, sipping on coke.  She takes another bite of her tuna sandwich, and he finishes off his ham and cheese.  He used to love tuna sandwiches, but he thought he’d give ham a try this time.  He’s amazed to find how much he loves it.

They leave with fifteen minutes before their lunch break ends.  He tells plenty of anecdotes about his pranks on Dwight, she talks about her childhood and her art.

She stops him at the gate of the parking lot.  The building is so picturesque, and he’s looking like he has a burning question on his mind.  She’ll eventually get it out of him.

“It’s so weird that a building that pretty on the outside can have such weird people like Dwight and Michael in it.”  They both chuckle, the giddiness rising to their heads.  Every single word has suddenly become a joke.  “I think I’m going to paint it sometime.”

“You should.  I would love to see it.”  He says, looking down in bashfulness.  He wants to ask her out again, but he’s suddenly losing all of his backbone.  “In fact, I would love to see all of your art.”

Her brand-new fiancée has never asked to see any of her art.

“Maybe.  I don’t know, it’s not real good or anything.”  She replies, uncertain of anything.  She hates herself for being so self-conscious, but opening up to someone she barely knows is just waiting for pain.

“I’m sure you’re better than you think.”  He says, continuing to walk back into the office.  He plans on asking her out to dinner before the end of the workday.  He had been working there for two years, and he had seen a lot of receptionists.

None of them were like this.

“Hey, thanks for lunch.”  She says, fighting to keep up with him as they head back into the office.  “Roy thought I wasn’t going to meet anyone nice up in there.  Especially under Michael.”

“Roy?”  He asked, starting to feel dizzy.  The elevator started to close in on him as she flashed her hand, which before had been hidden by the sleeve of her coat.  A shiny, pristine engagement ring.  “You’re engaged.”

“We got engaged a week ago.”  She says, bobbing her head with excitement.  “Well, talk to you later?”  She says, walking back behind her desk.  He nods, and grimly sits back down at his desk.  He looks up at her a couple times, thinking about how its such a pity the girl he fits with so well is engaged to someone else.

Reality sucks.

****************

He has been gone a month.  Twenty business days, thirty 24-hour periods.  Each day she finds a new distraction to make her forget about him.  She changes levels on Sudoku.  She rearranges the picture frames on her desk in a chronological order.  She gives Dwight fake messages, and gives spider solitaire a try.  She abandons all hope of having a happy wedding, knowing how he feels.  She leaves her fiancée on the Wednesday before her wedding.  She buys a car, starts driving to work, brings ham and cheese for lunch, gets her own apartment, signs up for art classes and starts to think she is finally in control of her life.

She really isn’t in control at all.

At the end of the day, she is taking her sketches home.  The wind picks a few of the loose ones from the notebook, and she scrambles to gather them.  She picks up three of them, but is forced to the gate to recover the last one.  Once she’s clutching the rough sketch of Jim, doing his Stanley impression, she looks up and realizes she’s at the exact same place she was at on her first day, after her lunch with Jim.  She promised herself to do a watercolor of this place, because she hates to admit it, but she’s grown fond of this place.  More so the people that inhabit it, but that’s another story.  She feels miserable, missing Jim more than anything.

The sky is gray; it looks like it’s going to rain.

She doesn’t care.  It’s been too long since it just poured.

She runs back to her car, puts the sketches on the front seat, and grabs the notebook and a pencil.  For once, she’s going to keep a promise she’s made herself.  She stands in the gate, moving every so often for the few remaining cars in the lot, and just draws the building she used to enjoy coming into.  Back when she had a best friend, and a fiancée, and something more than an empty apartment and a sketchbook.

She fills in the colors at home.  It starts to rain just as she finishes up.

***

He stares at the painting the morning after Pam’s art show.  He regrets not going, but Roy was probably there, so he wouldn’t have even seen her anyway.  Looking at the painting just confirms what he’s known the entire time—she has talent.  Real, undeniable, awe-inspiring talent.

He goes up to her desk once she’s done talking to Jan on the phone.

“Hey.”  She says, trying desperately to mask the anger in her voice.  She had put up that flier in the kitchen so he would see it.  She was too weak to actually invite him, so she hoped he would come anyway.

He points to the frame on the wall.  “I’m glad you painted it like you said you were going to.”  She didn’t think he would actually remember that detail.  It was almost six years ago, and she had barely remembered it.  The fact that he bore that fact in his mind was hope.

Hope that he still cared.

“Oh, and word around the office is that Fancy New Beesley had some amazing art on display.”  He jumps in, taking some m&ms out of the dish on her desk.

She knows no one was actually saying that.  But she doesn’t care.

“I wanted to come, but Jonathon needed someone to watch Hannah, so guess who got volunteered?”

“Oh.”  She says with the realization that he had known.  He wanted to come.

He had wanted to come.

“I would’ve definitely picked your art show over watching Spongebob all night.”  He smiles at her, and all the blood drains from her cheeks.  “Dora the Explorer, that’s a different story.  I might’ve left early for that.”

“Well, its good to know I can at least beat a cartoon sponge.”

“If this painting is any indicator, there will definitely be more art shows where that one came from.”  He looks down as her heart fills with happiness.  He looks over at Karen, locked in her computer and work.  He instantly knows what he needs to do. “I promise, I won’t miss the next one.”  He walks over to Karen’s desk, and says four words before they go into the kitchen together.

She pulls out her notebook.  She’s starting a new collection.  One that isn’t so subtle about how she feels.  She fills in the letters with delicate gray pencil, and draws one last origami crane across the top.   Once she’s content with the work she’s done, she gets up and heads down to the warehouse.  Art takes courage, and she’s going to need a masterpiece when she tells Roy that it isn’t going to work out between them.  But the idea of giving Jim his own work of art confession is giving her strength to handle it.

***********

He didn’t come to work thinking he would have a sloppy breakup with Karen in the kitchen.  He didn’t think he was going to waste most of his day getting death glares from her either.  He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good thing Pam came up from the warehouse, but he tried to distract himself with work until the day was over.

He left for the bathroom just before work was over, and when he returned to grab his bag, there was an envelope with his name on it.  He ripped it open, and pulled out the piece of paper.  Across the top were strings of origami doves, the ones she had made for the office Olympics.

In the center were two hands--one large, one dainty—clutching each other.  The amount of detail she has put into these hands is astonishing.  She drew in the scar on his left thumb where she accidentally shut the cupboard door on him.  (But apologized profusely and even bought him a 12-pack of grape soda until he forgave her.)  And underneath the two hands, in sleek letters, was written I love you.

He looked up and saw her waiting at the door.  He put the drawing in his bag, trying not to ruin it.  This was definitely going to be framed.