"Jim."
His eyes open. She's still there. Beautiful. Older. Smiling. He takes a deep, shaky breath.
"Pam."
Giggling bubbles up from the space between them, and they look down to watch as Jim's wire fox terrier nuzzles tiny hands that reach out in delight.
Simultaneously, they both drop to a crouch to appreciate the delicate play between dog and child, and laughing at the further mirroring of their own actions.
"You know, we could take this act on the road." It the first thing that comes to mind, and it's out of his mouth before he can stop it.
She laughs uneasily, keeping her eyes on their proxies.
Looking into the stroller, he's astonished at the miniaturization of a face that he's seen behind his eyes every day for the last ten years. The girl is exquisite, elfin, joy personified.
Smiling in amazement, he looks at her mother. Her gaze is so full of love, so adoring that it stuns him when she turns it on him without alteration, and then, without really thinking about it, reaches out to touch his face, attempting the same lighthearted interaction they're observing.
It's a mistake.
He draws in a sharp breath as if she's slapped him, and desperately tries to cover, but pain and terror have conquered his face, and she's mortified with shame.
"I'm sorry. I just--"
"No, it's okay, it's totally fine, I'm--"
They stand again, the silence stretching until it becomes something else. The dog looks up expectantly, sensing the change in atmosphere.
He motions his chin towards the park at the end of the block. She looks, nods. They begin to walk.
"What's her name?" Every word is a forced through a throat so tight he has to struggle to get enough air.
There's a long pause before she answers. "Larissa."
He stops walking.
"I just always loved the name from the first time I heard it."
He nods, and begins to walk again. "It's just...weird, that's all."
"Yeah."
They continue in silence, following the park road, taking in the massive trees rustling in the fading red autumn light.
"It's really beautiful here." Her voice is quiet, reverent. "I was so afraid to move, all those horror stories about the winters..."
"Best kept secret on the east coast." He decides if he doesn't look at her, he can pretend that she's just a friendly stranger.
"I'm getting that. The art museum alone is enough to make me giddy."
"Funny. I remember thinking that you would love the Albright Knox the first time I saw it."
Another silence envelops them.
Reading her mind, he begins. "Corporate sent me out about five years ago to head up the branch here. I got an IT division set up pretty cheaply and it took off. They tell me the website saved the company. I'm still not sure how I feel about that."
"I can't imagine. Dunder Mifflin lives on. Do you hear from Michael ever?" There is no safe territory here, so she decides to hew to age-old reunion tradition.
His laughter is her answer.
"That often, huh?"
"He's mellowed. But he's still Michael."
"What's he doing?"
"Mr. Mom."
"Oh my God. That's perfect."
"Yeah. He's great at it. Loves those three within an inch of their lives."
"Three?!"
"Two boys, James and Ryan, seven and three--" He's grinning, now, waiting for her delicious laughter to subside, "--and Mia, who's five and has Down's Syndrome."
Pam abruptly stops laughing. Jim smiles, kindly.
"No, it's not a bad thing. He's amazing with her, really. With all of them. It's like he was born to be a dad. A good one. He sets a great example."
Her eyes shift in curiosity and apprehension.
"I got married four years ago. Her name is Molly. We've got twins, Mitzie and Zoë. They're five." He laughs at her raised eyebrows. "Yeah, it took some convincing."
Pam's brows furrow. "Not me, her!" He's laughing again, exhilarated just to be looking at her face. "She didn't think I was ready for--" He looks down, swallows again, his imagination spiraling out of control, picturing what Molly's reaction will be when she discovers that her unmet old nemesis is suddenly among them.
Another long quiet overtakes them and they just keep walking. They don't really know what else to do.
