Pam yawned as she unlocked the door to her place. It was a little after eight in the morning when she finally got home. She shrugged off the Phillies jersey Jim had given her and folded it over a chair. Her hair was a mess and she just wanted to go to bed. A small flashing red light out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She pushed the soft blue button on the answering machine and opened the fridge to get some orange juice. The robotic voice on the small device informed her that she had two new messages.

Her mom’s voice filled the apartment. “Hi dear it’s me. It’s about nine. I tried your cell but it went straight to voicemail. I guess you’re out. That makes two Friday nights in a row…something you need to share? Just kidding Pam. Give me a call whenever. Love you!”

There was a short pause and the next message started. She sipped a bit of juice and smiled, her body tingling. It was him. “Uh, hey. It’s me. Jim Halpert. You know from Poor Richard’s? I would have called your cell but I thought it would be a treat for you to hear my voice when you got back. Plus you shouldn’t talk on the phone while driving. I know you do that Beesly.” She snickered at that. “I just wanted to tell you, ah, that I’m glad I came back. And I’m really glad you never left.” Pam set down her glass, afraid she might drop it. She was glad too. “And I forgot to give you the money I owe you. Maybe as a suitable trade you can keep my jersey. Your call. See you Sunday. You will not be disappointed in my burgers. Promise.” The message ended. She played it again, just because.

Another yawn widened her mouth. She decided to call her mom back after a nap. Snatching up her jersey, she walked back to the bedroom, bouncing on her feet. Pam smiled wistfully as she carefully hung the shirt up in her closet. She would have to remember to tell Jim that he couldn’t offer something in trade that was already hers.

***

Jim awoke with a start. He had been dead asleep, sprawled out on the couch. Pam had stayed there all night and even into the morning with him. They barely moved from the couch and didn’t really sleep that much. It was the single best night of his life. He squinted his eyes and grabbed his watch off the coffee table. It was a little after one.

A sharp knock rapped on his front door again and he stood up slowly, his body screaming for more sleep. He padded over and glanced through the peephole. It was Mark. Suddenly Jim remembered that they were supposed to go out for lunch today.

Mark chuckled at the crazy-haired guy who opened the door. “Did I wake you up Sleeping Beauty?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Nice. Come on in. I need to scare up some coffee real quick.”
“And some pants too it seems,” Mark noted given Jim’s state of current undress. “Late night I take it?”

Jim grinned so wide his lips hurt. “Yeah. Pretty late.”

As he shoved a comforter to the side to make room on the couch, Mark’s eyes drew into tiny slits. “Uh oh. I’ve seen that goofball look before. Tell me what happened.”

Jim rummaged under the counter for his coffee pot. He didn’t make the stuff very often, but he was so groggy that he needed a boost if he was to function at all for the rest of the day. He stood up and plugged the appliance in, still unable to reign in his happiness. “Nothing much really. Pam stopped by and we caught up.”

Mark snorted. “I was your roommate through many a late-night conversation about her Halpert. You know I don’t believe that you just ‘caught up’ right?”

Jim added some Folgers and water to the pot and turned it on. He looked at Mark, who was watching him expectantly. Expelling a burst of air, Jim replied, “I gave her my Phillies jersey.”

Mark sat back on the couch and pushed a ‘phfft’ through his lips. Then he sprung upright, recognition washing over his face. “THE Phillies jersey??”

Jim nodded at him. “Yup.” He had bought it a few years ago at Christmas. It was a tad big, but he thought it would look cute on her. He had gotten Pam’s name in Secret Santa. He was going to go all out. He figured if he couldn’t then he never would. He picked out a teapot in her favorite color and stuffed it with things only they knew about. Good things. He had got her a card and put two torn ticket stubs to a Phillies game in it with “I.O.U.” written on them. He had carefully written his words on the card itself, finally telling her in ink what he could not with his stubborn mouth. Things didn’t go as planned however, and the jersey he was going to give her stayed wrapped in the back of his car. Dozens of times he thought about throwing it away. Dozens more it was the only thing that gave him hope.

Mark could do nothing but shake his head. “Whoah Jim. Seriously.”

Jim walked over and punched him on the shoulder. “I know.” He stretched his arms over his head, which seemed to relax his entire body. “I’m going to grab a shower. Have some coffee. And there is chicken and mashed potatoes in the fridge. Not even touched.” Jim headed down the hall, away from his stunned former roommate. Still a bit dizzy from the events of last night, he smiled yet again. He couldn’t help it. He knew things were different between them, but in a good way. Pam was still Pam, but she was different too. She seemed stronger somehow. She had her own place, worked hard on her art, and basically found herself all over again. She was like a newer, fancier model of the person he left back at his desk long ago. They had some things to still work through no doubt. Some things hadn’t changed though. After all, their poker chips matched. For the first time in a pretty long time, he felt optimistic.