She suspects something when it rains on her birthday.  One of those oppressive, bleak rains that are typical in April yet always seem to skirt that one day of the year.  Like the weather decided to cut her a break and let her have this day.  Except for this year.   She stares out the windows of the conference room, trailing one raindrop as it travels along the glass.  It’s just about to reach the corner when she feels a poke in her ribs and looks up to find him silently teasing her and directing her attention forward.  Michael’s giving a lecture on breast cancer, a first in a series after Kevin’s scare.  He says it’s fitting for “our ample bosomed birthday girl” and Pam kind of wants to die.  After an excruciating hour, she walks back to her desk in a fog and doesn’t realize that he’s following behind her.

“Distracted much?”

“It’s this rain, it’s freaking me out.  It never rains on my birthday.  So much for sunflowers,” she mumbles.

“Hmm?”  he says, popping a jellybean into the air and catching it in his mouth, a trick that earns him a small laugh.

“Just this thing I do every year.  I go buy sunflower seeds and plant them out in the front yard.  It’s fun watching them bloom; kind of a birthday present to myself, you know?  Anyway, not exactly a great day for it.”  She tries to sound upbeat despite the fact that she’s actually really disappointed.  He looks pretty troubled too, she notices, but he just crooks his mouth to the side and shrugs.

“Well, you know what they say: the sun’ll come out tomorrow.”

“Did you really just quote Annie?”  she asks in disbelief riddled with laughter.

He rolls his eyes and smiles before returning to the pile of work on his desk.  

She leaves a little early but can’t quite settle into a good mood.  Maybe it’s the rain or turning another year older or the fact that Jim left work even earlier than she did.  She knows she’s being childish, but it’s her birthday, damn it, and he shouldn't have left without walking her out or at least a little something to acknowledge the day.  But all thoughts of Jim cease when she sees them: a bright array of sunflowers planted in the usual spot, carefully shielded from the rain with a small umbrella.  She smiles because Roy remembered, actually remembered that this is what she does and took the initiative to do it himself.

He gets home an hour later and she’s ready to greet him at the door.

“Babe, the flowers…” she begins.

“Yeah, I noticed those.  Planted them early this year?”  She stares at him blankly as he kisses her on the cheek.  

“Pretty good timing for them to bloom today, huh?”  She draws back the curtains and looks at them again.  And when she realizes who the actual culprit is, she feels a bit dizzy.

“Yeah,” she says quietly.  “Great timing.”

When she blows out her candles that night, she makes a wish for Roy.  For just once to have better timing than her best friend.