Autumn 2006

SEPTEMBER

It’s a crisp Wednesday in September and he thinks he might be getting closer.

It’s getting slightly easier, but only just slightly.

He still misses her more than he ought to.

He hears bits and pieces of how she’s doing. Phyllis sneaks in random details in her emails about his former customers.

Pam took a message for you today from Mr. Decker. She’s bought a new sweater and she looks so pretty in pink. I made sure to return the call instead of Dwight. I know that would make you crazy.

It looks like we might get some orders from Hershey’s. Pam still fills the little dish on her desk with jellybeans but if we get the account she might have to switch to Reese’s Pieces. Michael is insisting that we all take a trip to the factory together. We're all afraid he'll dress up like Willy Wonka.

He knows she means well, and is trying, not so subtly to play cupid, but tidbits like that make it even harder to try and forget her.

He smiles at the girl coming towards him. He'd been reluctant to start anything, especially here in the office but it happened before he realized it.

Smiles turned to hellos and hellos turned to lunches and now he'd found he liked her laugh, looked forward to it, even.

It was nice, and pleasant and perfectly fine.

But it still didn't hold a candle to Pam's.

He leans back in his chair and she sits on the edge of his desk. She’s teasing him about making him dinner at her place tonight.

He teases back that he's afraid of getting food poisoning.

Even as he does he keeps thinking, her place. The thought of going there makes him nervous.

He shakes it aside. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to get past it this time.

He wonders if he should buy flowers or wine. He decides in his anxious state that wine is probably better.

If I was going to Pam’s I’d bring flowers. She’d like something simple, like daisies. Nothing too fancy. Or maybe even tulips. Red tulips…

His phone rings, bringing him back. She lunges for it. They scuffle and the girl laughs loudly as she says "Keep your hands off me you pervert…" She composes herself and whispers huskily. "Hello. Jim Halpert's line…"

She pulls the phone from her ear and looks at him sheepishly. "God, Jim. I'm so sorry. They hung up."

He's about to tell her not to worry when he sees the number fading on his caller id.

His heart drops to his stomach. His face blanches.

He knows the area code all too well.

Scranton. The main switchboard…

No. It couldn't be.

He blinks a few times, trying to focus. His hands itch to pick up the phone and dial.

He almost does, he leans over to do just that and stops just short.

What could have made her pick up the phone? Why would she be calling now?

He pushes down hope. Maybe he read the number wrong. This couldn't have just happened.

It couldn't have been Pam who called. Simply, couldn't.

But, God. What would that mean if it was?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

OCTOBER

It’s a Tuesday in October and she leans over the sink in the bathroom, peering in the mirror.

She’s dressed as a cat again because it takes the least effort. Her nose is smudged with black face paint.

She remembers his costume last year and she has to force a smile away.

Don't think about him, Pam. Just…don't.

She wrings out the wet paper towel and goes back to scrubbing. It's pointless to try and not think of him she knows, especially when he's actually the reason she's rushing to take off her costume to get there on time.

It was only a month ago, when she'd been sifting through old file folders looking for a fax that she was absolutely sure should be right there on her desk.

It fell in her lap, the pamphlet Jan had given her on the graphic design training program, and stuck on the front was a post it with a note in his oversized scrawl.

Take a chance, Pam.

She remembers how he'd left it on her desk that night and how she'd been half furious and half thankful that he wouldn't let her give up so easy.

She reconsidered once more, but Roy had pulled her close and whispered that the weekends were the only time they had together.

And she'd been hopeful that this time he'd meant it.

Not surprisingly, even after he'd used that as an argument, nothing really changed. As usual he'd spent most weekends without her anyway.

So when the reminder fell in her lap again this time she didn't hesitate. Roy didn't have a say in how she spent her nights or weekends anymore.

The internship had sailed but it didn't stop her. Hands trembling over the keyboard she went straight online and signed up for that class she'd once dreamed of taking at the Art Institute of Philadelphia.

A simple application was all it took, and as soon as she'd gotten her confirmation she'd found that her fingers dialed as if they had a will of their own.

She had been walking on air she was so excited.

And she knew without question that he would be too.

She twirled the phone cord in her fingers. She nearly bounced in her seat.

And as she'd heard the laughter on the other end, for the second time in the span of a few months her world came shattering down.

She dropped the phone in its cradle, gasped as if someone had slapped her as she was stunned - right back to reality.

You should have known it'd be just a matter of time. You shouldn't have taken him for granted. You should have known he'd get tired of waiting for you to make up your mind.

Now, a month later, as she stared at her reflection she chastised herself. She sighed as she tossed the towel in the trash and bent down to pick up her bag.

She tried to make herself stop, but the voices nagged again even as she tried to banish them.

Is she pretty? Is she smart? Does he look at her the way he used to look at me?

She shook back her hair and hoped she'd also shake the thoughts away.

NO. Pam. Enough.

Things were fine now, better than fine. She had a new place and was starting a new kind of life. She was alone for the first time but it was almost OK.

Stop it. She begged the voice in her head as she swiped at her eyes. You knew it could happen. Don't just sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You've got someplace to go and you're almost late.

As she waited for the elevator she wished he was standing there beside her. If she closed her eyes she could almost picture him there.

So the best thing that ever walked into her life had kept on walking. So he'd moved on. So what?

Even if he'd found someone else to be with she couldn't help but feel a bit of gratitude mingled in with the raging jealousy.

No matter what had happened she was happier now.

It almost didn't matter that he was gone. Almost.

Even miles away he'd been able to do what he'd always done.

He'd pushed her to be more than she could ever dream to be.