Yeah, every time it seems like there ain't nothing left no more,
I find myself having to reach out and grab hold of something
I just catch myself wondering, waiting, worrying
About some silly little things that don't add up to nothing.

And then she looks me in the eye and says, we gonna last forever
And man, you know I can't begin to doubt it
No, because this feels so good and so free and so right,
I know we ain't never gonna change our minds about it.

Hey, here comes my girl
Here comes my girl

~~~~~~~~~

Jim takes another look at the car's clock in the dashboard. 3:42. He feels a little panic flutter in his stomach and presses hard on the cruise control to add five more miles per hour. He tries to will every light on the way into Scranton to magically turn green as he makes his way to the church. He knows Pam will be looking for him before the ceremony starts so he tries to call her to tell her he's on his way, don't worry, but her phone is off. He leaves a voicemail.

Hey, you. It's almost quarter to four and I'm risking my life and a speeding ticket to get there on time. See you in a bit and stop worrying about your hair!

Michael had insisted he attend Scranton Business Expo and Job Fair '08. He'd tried to beg off, saying Andy or Dwight or Kelly would do a much better job at the meet and greet schmooze-fest, but Michael insisted. Jim told him Pam's sister was getting married today and Pam was maid of honor and he had to be there, on time, wedding at 4:00. No problemo, Jimbo. Expo's done at 3:00.

But by the time they'd packed up all the promotional materials and loaded them into the Sebring's trunk, it was 3:26. Thank God he'd been able to convince Michael that he needed to drive separately because now Michael wanted to stop at Chili's on the way home. Guys afternoon out, Jim! Jim reminded him of the wedding while he was buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Michael tried to tell him the ceremony wasn't any big deal, it was the reception that really mattered. Rolling his eyes, he told Michael he'd see him Monday, and sped out of the parking lot.

As if Monday through Friday weren't enough, he had just spent four hours of his weekend devoted to Dunder Mifflin. Four hours of standing and chatting up the company with potential clients and potential employees. On his feet the entire time, trying not to overhear Michael's conversations, trying hard to sound enthusiastic about selling paper, their great customer service, all the perks of working at a failing mid-range paper company. He leans the seat back a little further to stretch out the dull ache in his back.

For maybe the thousandth time, he starts to have the conversation with himself. He should look for another job. He should be doing something else, teaching, coaching, something that he's proud of, something that gives him a feeling of purpose, a sense of meaning to his life. He's good at sales, he knows that. It comes so naturally to him and his salary and bonuses have steadily increased to a level that he didn't think he'd ever reach at Dunder Mifflin. He hadn't even considered that he'd still be working there at this point, let alone making such good money.

But some days, the money just wasn't enough. Michael seemed to be trying his patience more and more and now Ryan was adding a new level of pressure from corporate. No regrets, there, not taking that job. He'd be doing it differently and probably better than Ryan, but he knows he wouldn't be happy. Maybe he could do sales at another company, he thinks, for the thousandth time. He could take his experience and excellent sales numbers anywhere and do well for himself. But it would still be sales. He wouldn't have Michael and Ryan and Dwight to deal with, but he knows no job is perfect, and he'd likely be trading his current aggravations for a whole new set. Running his hand over his face, the conversation ends the way it always does: with him feeling a little trapped, a little weary, and a little defeated. He convinces himself that the status quo is his best option. For now.

Pulling into the church parking lot at 3:57, he breathes a sigh of relief. Checking himself in the rear view mirror, Jim straightens his tie, runs a hand quickly through his hair, and reaches behind him to grab his jacket off the hook. Outside the front of the church is empty, so he knows everyone is seated. The wedding party is surely lined up just inside the front entrance and he doesn't want to burst in and disrupt them as they're getting ready to walk down the aisle. He jogs around to the side door and slips into a half-empty pew five or six rows from the front. He looks around for familiar faces from Pam's family to make sure he's on the right side of the church. Satisfied, he sits and lets out a deep sigh. Just barely, but he's made it on time.

The church is one of Scranton's oldest and it's filled with ornate wood columns and Old World-style stained glass. The ridiculously high ceiling is ribbed with wood beams and the huge space creates a hush of reverence over the crowd. He feels a sense of calm come over him for the first time that day. He doesn't consider himself particularly religious, he's just glad to be done with the business of the day.

The music starts and everyone stands. He turns around, peering over the crowd to watch the procession and catch his first glimpse of her. She'd fretted over the dress so much because the halter-style was more revealing than she would have liked. She thought the color, a deep burgundy, was too dark for her pale skin. She wanted to wear her hair down and loose, her sister had insisted she wear it pinned up. She hated looking too "fussy" and vowed to take her hair down at the reception.

He barely notices the bridesmaids making their slow procession down the aisle, because over heads and hats and veils, he can see her waiting. She's whispering something in her sister's ear, a final joke, a sisterly secret they both share, then she laughs. He doesn't really hear her, but the soundtrack of her laughter echoes in his ears just the same. When she starts her slow walk down the aisle, he feels an exquisite ache in his chest. When he sees her trying to subtly scan the crowd, he knows she's looking for him, a tiny worry line in the middle of her forehead. He shifts slightly on his feet and raises up on his toes to try and get her attention.

And then she sees him and the worry line disappears and the smile, that smile that tells him he's exactly where he should be, spreads over her radiant, blushing face. Her eyes open wide when they meet his and he can read all her thoughts. She's so relieved he made it, so happy he's here, does she look okay, she hates her hair, she can't wait until they can sit together and hold hands and translate the entire day for each other in their own language that nobody else understands. He winks at her, transmitting his own thoughts: you look beautiful, your hair looks great, and I can't wait until I can wrap my arms around you and hear about your day.

After she passes, he drops his head, not even looking for the bride. He forgets the day and Michael and the job and his thoughts grow silent. All at once, he feels revived. He feels strength flowing back into his veins, as he straightens up and throws his shoulders back. He watches her take the bouquet from her sister's hands and she turns to catch his eye. She mouths I love you and he knows he's where he belongs. He smiles quietly to himself. He's firmly, contentedly at home and at peace in this place in the world Pam has made for him, where everything makes sense and he knows what his purpose is.