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Jim pulled up to the restaurant and turned off his car. He sighed deeply and replayed the conversation he had just had with Pam. He was going to meet her for coffee in the morning. She had seemed so weird this afternoon. He couldn’t get her eyes out of his head – she never completely left his thoughts, but this was different. That look on her face was different than anything he’d ever seen before.
He shook his head and climbed out of his car, making his way to the door of the restaurant. Inside, Mark was sitting at the bar waiting for him. “Jimmy!” he said as Jim climbed onto the stool next to him. Mark smiled and clapped his friend on the back.
“Hey, man,” Jim said, happy to see his old friend. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, it sure has. How is it being back in good ol’ Scranton?”
“It’s good … weird, but good.”
Mark nodded and took a swig of his beer, “You wanna go sit down?”
“Sure,” Jim said smiling widely. He had missed his friend.
Three beers and a gigantic burger had left Jim feeling pretty relaxed. “I thought I was over her, I really did …” he trailed off, taking another drink.
“Jimmy, man, you gotta get over that chick.” Mark said, shaking his head, “What about this new girl, Karen? Is she hot?”
“Yeah, she’s great, she’s …”
“Jimmy, is she hot?” Mark interrupted.
“Yeah, she’s hot …” Jim said, nodding.
“Then what’s the problem?” Mark asked, his eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know. I just, she’s great, she’s just not …”
“Pam.” Mark finished. “Man, Jimmy, what is the deal with this chick?” He laughed and took a swig of beer while he waited for the answer.
Jim paused for a minute, looking down at mug of beer in front of him. His face fell and he sighed deeply. “She’s just, … I don’t know man, I just can’t get her out of my head.” He looked up at his friend, “She won’t even look at me at the office. Today was the first time she even talked to me in two weeks. I just don’t get it, I mean, she was so happy to see me on my first day back. I could see it in her eyes. And then, all of a sudden the next day she wouldn’t even look at me. She hasn’t looked me in the eye in two weeks …” Jim said and let out a long breath, “… until today.”
“She looked at you?” Mark asked, a confused look on his face.
“Yeah, she was outright staring at me. It was the weirdest look I’ve ever seen on her before.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yeah, well, no.”
“Uh, what?” Mark asked, wondering if Jim was reaching his limit.
“Well, I was going to say something to her, but Karen was there and when I looked back, she wouldn’t look at me again.”
“So…”
“So, I don’t know. I asked her to get a coffee tomorrow.”
“What?” Mark asked and reached across for Jim’s beer, “You are making no sense, man.”
Jim laughed and shook his head, “Yeah, I don’t even know. Everything is so damn complicated … anyway – how’s your love life these days?”
Mark and Jim stayed at the bar for another hour or so, laughing and catching up on the months since Jim left. As they walked out into the parking lot, Mark shouted, “Oh, hey, I almost forgot, I got some mail and other odds and ends from the apartment.” He reached into his truck, pulling out a brown paper bag.
“Thanks,” Jim said as he took the bag. He gave his friend a quick hug before getting into his car and driving the four blocks to his new apartment.
Inside he threw his keys and the bag from Mark on the kitchen table and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. After taking off his shoes and selecting the new Shins CD to play on his stereo, he sat down at the table and dumped out the contents of the bag. Inside was a stack of mail held together with a rubber band, a Penn State t-shirt, a couple of CDs and a six-pack of grape soda.
Jim leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out over his head and yawning deeply. When he was done, he leaned his arms forward on the table and grabbed the pack of mail, pulling off the rubber band. He quickly thumbed through the bundle; the first six pieces were junk. But the seventh stopped him in his tracks. He slowly set down the rest of the mail and held the small white envelope in his large hands. It was postmarked June 10th and addressed simply to Jim Halpert at his old apartment. There was no return address but he didn’t need one to know who it was from.
