It’s quiet, her homecoming. She finishes her last final on a Wednesday morning, and she is on the road to Scranton by noon. Summer lingered longer than normal this year – well into late September, but as she drives home today with the windows down she can feel that the air is crisper, colder. The leaves fall in hues of orange and red, and as she drives the blur of the trees in the windows reminds her of fire and courage that brought him back over a year ago. She presses down on the gas a little more, the need to get back home suddenly more urgent.

Her plan is to surprise him. He thinks that she isn’t coming home until that night, and so he’s still at work when she gets to his place. But it’s their place, now. She uses her key and walks inside. It’s quiet, but familiar and welcoming all the same. The quiet hum of the fridge in the kitchen, the hardwood floors creaking under her feet as she makes her way down the hallway. It smells like him, like home, and it warms her all over to know that there is no deadline here. She won’t be leaving early tomorrow morning to make it to New York in time for class, and he won’t be sneaking out late tonight to be back to work tomorrow. The future stretches out endlessly in front of them now, and she is incredibly content with what is behind them, and what is to come in front of them.

Still, she’s enjoying this quiet time in his space, now theirs, before he comes home. She makes a cup of tea and gets a shower while it steeps. An hour later, she’s sitting on the couch in a tank top and yoga pants, trying to decide what to make for dinner – she wants to have it ready for him when he gets home. As she sits with her tea, she’s gazing around the apartment when she realizes it. He’s changed some things. Little changes, but changes nonetheless. He’s taken her books out of their boxes and put them on the shelves with his. Their CD’s are mingled together in the rack next to the stereo. A plant on the kitchen table, from her old apartment, is alive and thriving, as if it had been loved and cared for in her absence.

She moves from the couch, because it’s a challenge now, to see how he’s managed to intertwine their things together so effortlessly and seamlessly. She drifts into the hallway and opens the door to the spare bedroom. There’s an easel, and he put up shelves for her to keep all of her supplies on. He has placed an iPod dock on the small desk that sits under the window, because he knows that she likes to listen to music when she paints and draws. On the bookshelves are art books that she’s collected over the years. Some were gifts, some impulse buys when all she had was a dream that she thought would never come true. They had been boxed up and put into storage on a hot weekend in June as she prepared for an exciting adventure in a new city. Now they sat on shelves in her new home waiting for her return.

In every room, there are pieces of her. In their bedroom, there are pictures of her family that he carefully placed on their dresser. Hanging behind the door in the bathroom, she finds her favorite warm robe that she didn’t bring to school because it was too hot in the summer, opting for a lighter, cotton one instead. Next to the sink there’s a new purple toothbrush next to his blue one, and on the counter sits her favorite vanilla mint toothpaste. That had to be hers, because he hated the taste of it.

Pam moves back to the kitchen, and she’s amazed that she didn’t see any of this when she first arrived. On the refrigerator, more family pictures, and a newspaper clipping for an Art festival in Bucks County for later in the month. Back in the family room, her photo albums on the bottom shelf of the coffee table, filled with memories of her family and friends, and him.

She feels overwhelmed and loved, and resists the urge to change her clothes and drive to work to see him. She wanted to surprise him today but she comes home to her life waiting for her. He made sure that she would come back to something that felt like hers, and his, and theirs, and the love that he put into that gesture makes her heart feel full and peaceful.

She’s twisting the ring on her left hand almost absently, while she thinks about a lifetime of coming home to this. Coming home to a man who cares for her enough to put the simple things she loves all in one place for her to feel happy in. She thinks about creating new memories with him that will spill into other rooms and other homes, allowing their hearts to grow bigger as they have a family and a home and a life that is all that they’ve ever wanted.

Lost in her thoughts, Pam is surprised when she hears keys in the front door. Jim must be home early. Before she can process it, he is walking through the front door and they stare at each other with matched surprised smiles.

“Pam? What are you doing here? I thought…”

“Surprise?” She looks sheepish, like maybe she got caught doing something like rifling through his things or looking for her Christmas presents. It’s ridiculous, she knows, because this is her home too now, but she realizes that he intended on surprising her tonight and now she’s totally ruined it.

It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He crosses the room quickly and she’s in his arms before she can even apologize for taking the surprise out of her homecoming. He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around him. He whispers, “welcome home” in her ear and then his mouth is moving over hers and she forgets to thank him for being the wonderful man that he is. Instead her fingers instinctively go to his collar and start working on getting his tie off. He tries to ask her between kisses what she’s doing home so early, but he finally gives up when she slides down, planting her feet on the ground and brushing her hand against the front of his pants. She whispers, “take me to bed" against his neck and his response is a grunt that should probably resemble yes, but it gets lost in his throat.

They don’t say another word as they walk, trip, and laugh their way down the hall to the bedroom. She pushes him back on the bed and he looks so content and in love, it nearly makes her heart stop. She’s so happy it bubbles up and out of her like laughter before she can stop it. He raises his eyebrows at her but before he can ask the question she’s undoing his buckle, his zipper, and helping him to get his pants and boxers off. He sits up and runs his hands up her sides, pulling off her tank top and leaning forward to plant kisses on her neck and in between her breasts. His palms are warm as they slide down her back, pulling down her pants and her underwear.

He snakes his hand in between her legs and she’s suddenly lightheaded, out of breath, and happier than she’s ever been in her life. Her head falls to his shoulder but she continues to work the buttons on his shirt while his fingers are moving in small, fast circles and it feels so, so good. It’s been nearly two weeks since she saw him and she’s missed this, missed him, and it’s like they can’t get close enough. Finally they're both naked and she climbs in his lap without any warning, eliciting a low moan from him as she straddles him, wrapping him in her warmth.

They slow down, mouths and bodies moving in a more deliberate pace because there’s no rush, now. They take their time and they move together until both of them are shuddering and spent, falling backwards onto the bed.




Two hours later, thoughts of dinner have been forgotten as they lay in bed together. Her head is on his chest and they are lingering somewhere in between consciousness and sleep. Light splinters through the blinds in slivers of red and orange as the sun sets in the fall sky. She closes her eyes at the feel of his fingers skimming aimlessly up and down her back.

“It was a nice surprise to come home to you today. I could get used to that.”

“Speaking of surprises,” she shifts to look up at him, her chin resting on his chest, “When did you get all of my stuff?”

He shrugs as if it were nothing, as if the gesture shouldn’t have completely swept her off her feet, “Oh I went to the storage unit last weekend. I figured you would want to have your stuff here. No big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It was nice. I mean, I already felt at home here, but now I feel like this really is my home. Our home. You know?”

“I know. And it is.” He’s smiling down at her and its something like grateful and happy and a perfect mirror to how she’s feeling inside.

She puts her head back on his chest and breathes a heavy sigh. They lay quietly like that for a while before he pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You have no idea. I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Yeah. Me too.”