She keeps checking her watch. Only 2:56 p.m.  Time seems to have slowed down significantly in the last three hours.

Jim had called at noon as promised, and they had settled for a three o’clock meeting at a little café close to her place.  She had tried on far too many outfits before settling on a pair of jeans, purple v-necked top, a black blazer, and black kitten heels.  She thought she looked good without looking like she tried too hard.  She had walked to the café and had arrived at 2:45.  So much for not being overly eager.

While she waits, she tries to read a book, because she doesn’t even want to think what they will talk about.  She feels like she owes him an explanation about her cancelled wedding, but she feels her excuses for not calling won’t sound anything but terribly lame.

She sees the coffee shop’s door open and Jim strolls in.

“Hey… Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“We said three o’clock so you’re right on time.”  She flashes him a smile.

“Before I sit, what can I get you?”

“A latte with skim milk and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top, please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She watches him walk up to the counter.  His limbs are so long and yet, he really is graceful.  She had always enjoyed watching him walk away from her desk, but had told herself it was all purely observational.  Looking back on it, when anyone else was walking away from her desk, she thought absolutely nothing of it.  With the exception of Michael, of course, but that’s just because she was thrilled to get a few minutes of peace and quiet.  There was something about Jim that was just…Hmph.  Better not go down that train of thought at the moment.  She feels on edge enough as it is.

_________________________

A few minutes later, he returns with two steaming mugs.  He’s just thrilled to see her.  She looks happy to see him too, which is still surprising to him.  He had spent the summer picturing them meeting as incredibly awkward.  Pouring your heart out and being rejected does tend to put a kink in a relationship.

He sits and they start talking.  She talks of her new apartment, of art classes she has started taking, and a million little things like that.  He talks of his new coworkers – yes, he is somehow now called Big Tuna -  of a life in Stamford, and of missing his friends back home. 

The next time he looks at his watch, two hours have flown by.  It feels so easy, chatting away like that.  They’ve caught up; they talked of fairly safe topics.  Still, he feels he has to go now.  It’s been a lovely afternoon, but he can’t fall for her all, and end up heartbroken all over again.     

“I think I should go… ”  He sees a look of panic in her eyes.

“Don’t go.  Maybe we could go for dinner…”

“Well, we’re all even now with bets, right?”

“Not quite…”

She reaches over the table and kisses him.  Her lips linger for a few seconds, and when she pulls away, her face has turned rosy.  He’s not sure what just happened. 

________________

She decided to go for it.  All afternoon, she had searched for but hadn’t found the words to express how she wanted their relationship to change so she pulled out the big guns.  Or maybe it was just some impulse in her body that decided to go for it.  He couldn’t leave not knowing the score.

He still looks like a deer caught in headlights so she figures she needs to try to put it verbally.

“I know I called you because of the bet, but it wasn’t the reason…  I’ve wanted to call for a while.  I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

His befuddled eyes turn sad, and his voice is barely above a whisper when he finally speaks.

“Why didn’t you call to tell me the wedding was off?”

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.  After telling Roy it was over, I spent days cancelling the wedding that I’d spent months organizing.  I had to call all the guests and explain the situation at least fifty times.  The problem was that I didn’t really have a good explanation for what had happened.  Not one that I wanted to share anyway.  I was just too overwhelmed to even think about calling you.  After that died down, I went into hiding for a while.  For most of July and August, all I did was show up at work, and speak as little as I could get away with.  At home, the only person I’d talk to was my mom.  I just… I knew I’d done the right thing, but I was still so sad and lost.  It made no sense in my mind.  By the time I started getting my bearings back, I felt guilty for not having called… I felt terrible for what had happened back in May.  I thought you hated me.”

“Pam…”

“You left the next day.  What was I supposed to think?”

“I just couldn’t watch you get married… I just couldn’t.”

“I’m really sorry for not calling.  I’m sorry for so many things that have happened.”  She hopes he can see how sincerely saddened she is by all of this.

“Thanks.  I think we’ve had our share of misunderstandings over the years.”

All of a sudden, the café feels too public a setting for this conversation.  There are only a few couples and groups scattered in the room, but she feels too exposed for deep apologies and emotional confessions. 

“Not that it’ll make up for everything, but do you want to have dinner tonight?  I can cook something simple, and maybe we can really talk.  Righting the wrongs, cleaning the slate and all that.”

“That sounds good.”

“The only thing is that you’ll need to drive me to the grocery store, and help me pick out ingredients.”

“Wow, Beesly, already taking advantage of me.  I’m disappointed in you.”

She laughs as she gets up from the table.  As they walk out of the café, he feels his right hand brush against her side.  She takes this as a sign and links her fingers through his.  She sees his grin out of the corner of her eye, and feels a lightheartedness that has been missing in her life.

Things are finally looking up instead of sideways.