Oh, God, this hurts. Pam squeezes her eyes shut and opens them, tries to breathe normally as her mother wraps an arm around her waist and leads her up the front steps. Her dad props the door open, searching her face with his eyes. She smiles at him and he smiles back, relieved, holding the door open for Jim, who has his arms full.  Her mom gently leads her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

            The sheets have never felt so good, crisp and cool, and Pam is so happy to be home. The hospital bed did not have a feather duvet, or three pillows, or Jim, for that matter. He is beside her, sinking down onto the bed and kissing her. “I’m glad you’re home” he whispers, and she nearly cries.

            Her parents lean over and say goodbye. “We’re going to the hotel, we’ll leave you alone,” says her mom, stroking Pam’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re all right, my baby.”

            Her dad kisses her forehead once more as her mom kisses Jim’s cheek. “Call us if you need anything, Pammy,” her dad says, straightening up.

            They leave and Pam sinks back onto her three pillows. ‘Can I get you anything?” Jim asks, looking concerned. Pam considers the question and smiles. “Actually, yes,” she says, “Do you remember where the letter is that I asked you to hold for me?”

            “I’d like it, if you don’t mind finding it. It’d be a good day to read it,” she says.

            “But it’s only been seven years. Do I have to remind you of the rules?” he asks, already getting up and crossing to his dresser. She watches as he opens the third drawer down, rifles beneath the clothes, and pulls out her letter. “Jim, sometimes we have to break the rules,” she says, “besides, I gave myself veto power.”

            He hands her the envelope, which reads “Do Not Open Until March 5, 2016” Below, in very small print, “P.J.B. has complete power to revoke whenever she feels the absolute need. Trust her, she knows” is written.

            Jim goes into the bathroom as she opens the letter.  She reads it, one hand on the warm blankets beside her.

            ________________________________________________

3/5/06

Dear Pam,

Hello from your 26 year old self. Hopefully this letter will actually reach you. I have some doubt about the reliability of the letter carrier (of course, this is just written in case he tries to sneak a peek).  Not that I think he will, but still, one can’t be too careful.

All joking aside, I hope you are doing well. If it’s been ten years, then I hope 2016 is all you hoped it would be, and I hope you had a good Back to the Future Part 2 party last year. You know you’ve wanted to do that since you saw that movie. If it’s before 2016, then you must have had a great reason to open the letter, in which case, yay! Better start planning the Back to the Future party.

I hope life has sorted itself out for you, and I hope that you’ve played an active role. Reading the letter this morning made me feel sad, as though my life is out of my control, and that I am at the mercy of others. Even Older Pam, I hope you are more in control of your life.

I hope you have a good job that does not contain the words ‘Dunder-Mifflin’ in the description. If you are still there, then I hope you’ve gotten a hell of a pay raise. You better have signed up for art classes. It’s in your blood, and you never feel right unless you can have a creative outlet. I hope you’ve found a good career that puts all of your skills to use. We’ve worked too hard to ignore them. 

If you are with someone who is not Roy, then I hope you’re happy with him. I am proud of you for being strong enough to get over Roy, and I hope New Guy is as good to you, plus more. I trust you, Pam, don’t let me (us?) down. 

If New Guy is Jim, then wow. That’s a story I would like to see. I hope that he is as lovely to you as he has been to me the past four years. He’s been my savior at work, and I hope that I can tell him how much he means to me and how much he’s helped me. I hope Jim still believes in you, and acts like you can do no wrong. It’s been so hard for me to repress these feelings that I have for him, and I feel so guilty about Roy and possibly hurting him. If Jim is The One, then I hope you let Roy down gently, before things get out of hand. With Jim, sometimes I don’t know if I’m in love with him, or if we’re just best friends. I hope it’s clearer to you in the future. I also hope for your sake that he is still smokin’ hot.

Above all, no matter what, I hope you are happy. Pamela Beesly has always been a happy person, and I hope it continues. I hope you take life by the reins and remember that the whole point of having dreams is so that they can come true.

Love,
Pamela Jean Beesly

________________________________________________

She lowers the letter onto her lap. She has tears in her eyes, but she’s happy. Jim peeks out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. He looks concerned and crosses to the bed, tossing the towel onto a blue chair. “Is everything all right?” he asks anxiously. She smiles, and he looks relieved. He sinks carefully next to her. “Tearjerker?” he asks, and she laughs.

“No, not really. I just realized my life is so much happier than it was when I wrote this,” she says, “I kind of wrote myself a list, and I’ve accomplished everything on it.”

Jim smiles, and she knows it’s because he loves when she’s successful. “You’ve done all you wanted to do?” he asks, smiling down at the warm little bundle safely resting between them.  “Yeah, all except the very last thing, but that can wait a few years until I recover from this one,” she says, stroking the baby’s soft cheek, "And I'm glad you're still smoking hot."

            Jim grins again, and squeezes her hand, and she smiles at her men and is very, very happy.