Pam was so agitated she could barely contain herself.  For three years she’d been idly wishing she could talk – really talk – with Jim.  And now it was definitely, truly, for real going to happen.  There was a count-down.  T minus four hours and thirty-seven minutes.  It felt momentous, like the launch of Discovery after the Challenger disaster back when she was a kid.  She remembered the newscasters announcing the count-down hours before lift-off.

God, did she really just think that?  She was thinking about NASA?  About a disaster where everyone was killed in a fiery explosion?  Jesus!  She had to find something to do with herself.  If she was athletic, she’d go for a run or to work out at the gym or something.  Pam looked around the room in frustration.  Well, the house was a sty.  Neither she nor Rebecca would ever be described as a domestic goddess.  And Rick?  Well, she loved him but the guy left a trail of chaos in his wake.  The OCD clean freak syndrome that afflicted their mothers’ generation definitely was not passed on to the three cousins.  She could clean the place up a bit.  That could keep her moving for a while.

Pam let her mind wander as she bustled about the house, filing, tossing, washing and dusting.  She thought about how Kelly had gotten her into this – into what?  She didn’t even know what it was yet.  But, whatever it was, Kelly could take the blame or the credit.

Pam had been stunned at the sight of Kelly Kapoor strolling through the gallery on the opening night of her show.  She remembered the stilted conversation when she first saw her.

“Kelly – hi!  Um, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for your show, Pam.  Why else would I be here?”

“How’d you know about it?”

Kelly’s head tilted and her face scrunched up in disapproval.  “You told me.  You said you couldn’t go out for drinks on Friday because you had to be here for your show.  You know, I still feel really terrible that none of us made it to that little show when you were at Dunder-Mifflin.  I told everyone about this show and said they’d better come this time.”

Pam’s stomach had flipped at Kelly’s announcement.  As touched as she was that Kelly wanted to make amends for the earlier slight, Pam really didn’t want any Dunder-Mifflinites at this show.  It would be too humiliating.  Kelly’s reaction might not be too bad – but Kevin?  Or Michael?  God forbid, Michael and Angela.  Pam shuddered to think of it.

“You have to take me around and tell me about every picture.”

“Oh, no.  I think you should see them alone.  They should speak for themselves, if I did them well.”

Pam thought about what Jim might have to say when he called.  He definitely didn’t give anything away in his mail message.  Clearly we should talk.  Not I’d love to talk with you.  But also not What the hell do you think you’re doing?

She wondered if he even thought about her anymore?  Probably not much.  She didn’t think about Jim all the time, like she used to.  She certainly didn’t have the constant ache in her heart and the sense of acid churning in her stomach that she suffered for at least a year after his promotion.  Her life took a turn for the better when she left Dunder-Mifflin.  Not having to avoid looking at his desks for eight hours a day was a distinct help.

Receiving her last Dunder-Mifflin quarterly newsletter was bittersweet.  Jim always looked happy when he was featured in one of the pictues.  And she could feel her heart expand with pride every time she read about an improvement in the performance of the Northeast sales team.  But it hurt to be reminded that she was so totally banished from his life that the most she learned about him was from a couple of sentences about his work performance every fiscal quarter.

And, of course, since she’d left Dunder-Mifflin, she knew even less about Jim’s life.  Kelly was her only source of information and she couldn’t press Kelly with a lot of questions for fear of giving away her feelings for him.

Pam still loved him but she was well aware that the Jim she loved might not even exist anymore.  By this time, he might have evolved into a Jim she wouldn’t even recognize.  And, if that was the case, she thought she could handle it.  Part of her problem in moving on, she’d decided, was that she never had any closure with Jim.  He’d left her twice – both times without any real goodbye.  Both times Pam was left with the unanswerable question – what would’ve happened if she’d been brave or honest?  Now she’d finally have an answer.  She realized it might’ve been different if she’d made the gesture three years ago but it would still be an answer of sorts.

Suddenly Pam heard Cyndi Lauper’s voice coming from the next room. 

The phone rings in the middle of the night
My father yells what you gonna do with your life
Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one
But girls they want to –

“Hi, Kelly.”

“Well?”

“Yeah, he got it.”

“And?  Did he call you?”

“Well, he emailed me.  And texted.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.  And the message was kinda cold.  It was like That was quite an attention getter.  Clearly we should talk.”

“Clearly?”

“Yep.”

“Should talk?”

“Uh huh.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly.”

The phone went silent for a moment as both friends struggled to put a positive spin on the comment.  Finally, Kelly spoke brightly, “Whatever!  You’re gonna talk to him, so you gotta make the most of it.  What are you gonna wear?”

“Kelly, it’s a phone call.  His home computer’s shot, so he doesn’t have Skype.”

“Doesn’t matter.  You have to look your best.  You wanna feel sexy and self-confident.  You’ll flirt better!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No!  I’m totally serious.”

“Kelly – no.”

“Fine.  Do whatever you want.  You know I’m right.  You’ll be sooo much better at flirting if you’re feeling hot.”

“I don’t know…”

“Hey!  Whose advice got you the phone call in the first place?”

“Well –”

“Yeah.  That’s what I’m thinkin.  So.  What time’s he calling?”

“8:30.”

“OK.  Call me as soon as you get off, OK?”

“That’s what she said.”

“I cannot believe you still say that!  It’s so juvenile.  Just call me, OK?”

“All right.  All right.  Talk to ya later.”

Pam returned to cleaning and organizing the first floor.  When she finished the first floor, she started on her bedroom.  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand.  5:56.  T minus two hours and thirty-four minutes.

Jim hustled about his condo, grabbing clothes and tossing them into his overnight bag.  He didn’t need much.  A pair of jeans, khakis, and a few shirts.  As he recalled, Pam was partial to light green on him; so he made damn sure that today’s shirt matched his eyes.  Such a girl but what the hell, right? If he was gonna do this whole surprise appearance thing, may as well go for the maximum effect.

Jim ran through a mental checklist as he packed:  running shoes, shorts, T-shirt, underwear, socks, toiletry kit.  He paused when he saw the box of Trojans.  Too presumptuous?  He thought back to advice his mom used to give hime when he was a teenager.  He always used argue with her about whether he’d put on his deodorant.  He’d insist, I think I did already.  And she’d retort, Jim, which is the better mistake to make?  Jim smiled wryly.  Probably not the way she ever intended him to apply her wisdom, but it definitely worked.  The box went into the overnight bag.

Wine.  Better take some wine.  Those damn Pennsylvania state stores didn’t have the best selection, and who knew how far one was from Pam’s place?  Without a computer, he couldn’t look it up before heading to the train station.  And he definitely wanted to show up with a nice bottle of wine.  Chianti Classico and Pinot Grigio.  Always solid choices.

That about did it.  Jim zipped up the bag and headed out of his building to hail a cab to Penn Station.

OK.  The entire house was tidy … well, except for Rick & Rebecca’s rooms.  And her zeal to keep moving didn’t go that far.  Jim still wasn’t due to call for over an hour.  Now what?

Pam glanced up in the mirror and, seeing her sweaty and rumpled reflection, reconsidered Kelly’s advice.  Man, she hated to admit it, but it did kind of make sense.  Right now her nerves were shot.  It certainly wouldn’t do anything to sharpen her wit if she was constantly thinking about how her deodorant gave out like an hour ago.  Maybe…

In no mood to relax in a hot bath, Pam turned on the shower.  Tepid would be good – she needed to cool off.  She showered quickly and hurried back to her room to dress.  Now that she’d decided to follow Kelly’s advice, there was no doubt in Pam’s mind about what she would wear for Jim’s phone call.  She quickly brushed her hair and twisted it up in a loose clip at the back of her head.  Tonight, Pam’s hair would fall behind her in a cascade of loose curls, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed.  She went to her jewelry box and selected her favorite pieces.  The necklace had alternating wide and narrow ovals of spiny coral, each one set in a substantial sterling frame.  The earrings were triangular pieces of spiny coral, set in the same type of silver frame – complimentary but not exactly the same. It was a one-of-a-kind signed set.  She’d fallen in love with it when she and her sister had taken a trip to New Mexico the summer after Jim’s promotion.  It was beautiful Navajo work, or so Rachel said – and, if anyone, she would know.  The set cost a prince’s ransom but Rachel insisted on buying it for her.  It was the best jewelry Pam owned; Rachel called it a statement piece and Pam felt beautiful, sophisticated and artistic every time she put it on.

Pam smiled at her reflection in the dresser mirror.  With her hair swept up off her neck, the beautiful jewelry and softness of her nude skin glowing in the muted afternoon light, she felt exotic and erotic.  Images of Ingres’ La Grand Odalisque and Titian’s Venus With a Mirror flitted through her mind. 

He’d gotten over Pam.  Really.  He had.  About a year into his move, he’d noticed that he didn’t think about her much anymore.  And somewhere in the second year he forgave her.  Actually said the words to himself, I forgive you, Pam. 

He and Karen had been visiting his parents for a few days and went to Mass with them.  Fr. Daly, their pastor, was a wonderful speaker and even the non-religious could find guidance in his sermons.  That Sunday he talked about forgiveness and how anger doesn’t really hurt anyone but the person who carries it around. The words had resonated with Jim and he’d thought to himself I forgive you, Pam.  You never meant to hurt me and I forgive you.  And it was true.  Saying the words, meaning the words, had released him from the residual anguish that still overpowered him from time to time.  He was finally free of Pam.

Jim liked what his life had become.  It felt good – so good – to base his self-worth on things other than successful pranks on Dwight and failed attempts to get Pam to love him.  He had real, meaningful accomplishments that he could point to:  growth in gross sales and market share in his region, the rise of younger employees whose professional growth was enhanced by his mentoring, an MBA under his belt, and now the promotion.  So much more satisfying than when his measure of a good day was the number times he goaded Dwight to huff into Michael’s office or coaxed a smile from Pam before she went home to Roy.  He’d grown up in the last three years.

He had an idea that Pam always saw this in him – this person who could lead other people, and do it well.  He knew he’d always seen an artist in her.  He wasn’t sure what avenue she should take:  interior design, graphic design, portrait painting.  But he knew she had a lot of talent that would remain untapped as long as she was saying “Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.”

So now they’d both fulfilled the potential that the other had seen all along.  It was a weird analogy but he felt like they’d both been caterpillars that saw the other as a butterfly.  Now they both were butterflies, no denying it; maybe now they could approach each other with less fear.  Maybe they could do this now?  He wanted to see if they could.

Pam knew there were things she’d want to be different than what they’d ever had in their relationship.  She didn’t want to be the damsel in distress, the needy girl, ever again.  She didn’t want things to be all about her.  Looking back, she simply couldn’t comprehend the things Jim did for her.  When he came back from Stamford with Karen in tow, for a few months Pam had a glimpse of the torture Jim had lived with for years.

She remembered the day they’d pranked Andy over that awful, egotistic ring-tone.  She didn’t care that she was absolutely Jim’s last choice of a pranking partner.  She’d felt a heightened awareness of him as they wordlessly executed the crime, a shock wave radiating up her arm when his fingers briefly brushed against hers.  She had stood at the back of the office, toying with her little pendant, sure that the whole office could hear her heart palpitating wildly in her chest.

And that was the result of an interaction that lasted under two minutes.  How had Jim endured the Moose Tracks liaisons?  They were shot through with sexual tension – that was the very reason they always made her forget her problems.  How could a girl feel anything but elated when a guy as gorgeous and kind as Jim focused all his attention on her, speaking quietly in that sexy low hum, making her feel wanted and beautiful with every whisper and touch.  It had to have killed him.  If he ever could love her again, she vowed it wouldn’t cost him so much.

Jim checked the house numbers as he strode down Fitzwater Street, balancing the pizza box and clutching the bottle of Chianti.  1079, 1077, 1075.  His heart started beating faster, harder.  1073, 1071.  He could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.  He really had to do something to calm his nerves before he knocked on that door.

As he approached 1067, the door opened and a tall guy appeared in the doorway.  Jim noted with displeasure that he was pretty good looking – in an unkempt sort of way.  Kind of the way he used to look, back when Pam still knew him.

The guy turned back in the doorway and called into the house, “Pam?  Hey, I probably won’t get home till close to three.  Wait up for me?”  His tone was laughing and suggestive and he smiled broadly as he listened to Pam’s response.  “Oh, you betcha I do!  I wait with bated breath!”

Jim halted at a dead stop.  He could barely breathe.  How could this be?  How could she have sent him that picture if she was living with a guy?  His brain shut down, unable to get past that one thought.

The guy closed the door behind him and walked toward Jim, who was rooted where he stood.  He really should start walking.  Turn around and head back to the B&B, gather up his things and get back to 30th Street Station before the last train left for New York.

But he couldn’t move.  He stared at the good-looking, rumpled guy, transfixed.  Still trying to process why Pam would do this to him.

As the guy walked by him, he glanced briefly at Jim’s face.  Jim felt angry and aggressive.  He glaringly tried to make eye contact but the guy’s glance fell away.  Jim stood on the sidewalk, fifteen feet from Pam’s door, trying to decide what to do.

“Hey.”  The voice behind him was urgent.  Jim turned toward it, to see the guy retracing his steps back toward him.  Now the guy had a perplexed but smiling expression.  His voice was friendly, inquisitive.  “Hey – are you Jim?”

Jim responded guardedly, cocking his head.  “Yes?”

“What – you’re not sure?”  The guy laughed and shook his head with a friendly but quizzical expression, as he continued, “I thought you were supposed to call.  Pam definitely said phone call.”

“I’m sorry.  You are –?”

“Oh.  Right.  Sorry.  Rick Morgan – Pam’s cousin.  We live together.  With my sister, Rebecca.”  Rick extended his hand toward Jim.  A wave of relief washed over Jim.  He tucked the wine bottle under his arm and grasped Rick’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.  She’s, ah, expecting my call?”

“Oh, yeah.  You could say that.”  Rick grinned.  “Man, this is too perfect.” he said to himself more than to Jim.  He addressed Jim, “You head on up.  I think you guys will have a good evening.  I gotta run.  Got a gig to get to. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

As Rick ambled away, Jim could hear him mutter, “Perfect.  Too damn perfect.”  It left him a bit perplexed but bouyed his confidence all the same.  He strode up to the front door and lightly pressed the doorbell with the top of the wine bottle.  He heard Pam’s laughter as she approached the door.

“You are too much!  Do you never remember your k–”

The door flung wide open.  Simultaneously, Pam’s and Jim’s eyes went wide open and they both gasped, “Oh my God!”

“Jim?”

“Pam!”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, then began to speak over one another.

“You said you were going to call.”

“You said you were going to be home all night.”

Pam stepped back and motioned to herself.  “And here I am.  At home.”

“But, ah, you’re dressed to go out.  Were you – were you planning to meet someone later?”

“Oh!  No.”

“You just got home from somewhere?”

Pam started to blush.  “No.”  She shook her head slowly, while studying Jim’s feet.  “No.”

Jim took half a step back as he appraised Pam.  Her hair was swept up and fell in teasing ringlets at the back of her head.  She wore a halter dress that hugged her body lightly in all the right places.  Her neck and shoulders – and other parts – looked awfully inviting.  This was really very unfair.  It was going to be so hard to concentrate on anything she said tonight.  He imagined unclipping her hair, and untying that dress, and  –

He snapped his attention back to the moment.  “You did all this,” he made a sweeping downward gesture toward Pam, “for me?  For my phone call?”

Pam blushed even more deeply as she nodded her head and hesitantly raised just her eyes to meet Jim’s.  “Yeah,” she whispered sheepishly “Kelly convinced me that I’d do better if I felt beautiful and –”

“Sexy?”

Pam bit her lower lip and nodded silently as she blushed a shade of red that Jim was sure he’d never seen on a human face.  He felt flush with excitement and possibility.  She looked flustered and adorable and sexy as hell and –

How on earth was it possible that he could look this much more handsome than he had three years ago?  He was full of self-assurance and still lean and lanky – no boy left in the man before her and it made her giddy that he’d come all the way down to her today.  She was grinning and suddenly not flustered at all and –

God was he glad that she sent him that picture.  He glanced past her and there was the room that beckoned him to come – the warm, buttery walls and the unframed landscape and the coffee table awaiting his feet.

And again they began to talk over one another.

“Would you like to come in?”

“So, are you free for dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Pam glowed happily as she leaned forward to give Jim a light kiss on the cheek.  She took the pizza box from his hands and led him into the room she’d dared to share with him.  She’d invited him into her life and he’d come and … sure, they were different people but anything was possible.