"Jim," she said, "what's going on?"  Talking to him through his bathroom door was a little strange, but she thought she'd give it a try since Mark said that Jim wouldn't come out.

Curled up on the floor on the bathmat, Jim blinked and rose slowly to a sitting position.  "Pam?" he answered.  "What are you doing here?  Don't you have a million things to do this morning?"   

"What am I doing here?" she protested. "You're supposed to be in Australia!  Why didn't you go?  You paid a non-refundable deposit!"

Jim blinked more, trying to get his sleepy brain to engage.  "Oh, I don't know, I just kind of lost interest.  It's a really long flight.  But no fair changing subjects --- today is your wedding.  Why would you be here?"

"Jim, wouldn't it be easier to have this conversation NOT through your bathroom door.  Are you okay?  What's going on?"

He searched his brain for a casual response.  "Pam, I'd rather not give you whatever I've got.  I spent all last night throwing up and then dry-heaving.  I think I've broken a record for consecutive porcelain hugging." 

"Oh Jim, I'm sorry.  Are you sure you're okay otherwise?  Mark is really worried about you.  He said you were ---" 

Now fully awake and agitated, Jim cut her off.  "Mark called you?  Are you kidding?  What is his problem!  He's a good guy but sometimes he's a bit of a drama queen.  Damn it!  Pam, this isn't right --- it's your wedding day.  You shouldn't be here."

Pam took a breath and deliberately calmed her voice.  "Slow down Jim, he didn't actually call me.  I mean, my phone rang and it showed up as a call from you.  When I called back, he answered and tried to say it was a mistake.  But then I made him tell me what was going on.  He said you didn't go to Australia and wouldn't tell him why and that he was really worried about you cause you haven't been eating and wouldn't come out of the bathroom, and he hadn't ever seen you like this."  She was surprised to find that she was talking really fast. 

Rustling sounds were coming from inside the bathroom and when Jim started to speak again she could tell that he had moved to just the other side of the door.  His voice was soft, low, and measured; it actually gave her chills.

"I was just sick Pam.  That's all it was."  He paused, closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against the door and continued.   "And it's so weird.  I only had two beers.  Beer doesn't go bad, does it?  I've had flat beer before, but never had beer that made me sick.  Okay, I take that back, I've gotten sick after drinking beer before --- but never from just TWO beers.  This was different."

Pam sat down on the floor of the hallway carefully, getting closer to her side of the door so she could talk more quietly as well. 

Hearing her slide down against the door, Jim pleaded, "What are you doing Pam?  You have to go!  I don't understand why you're here." 

Pam quietly responded.  "It's not that big a deal, Jim.  My sister arrived at my house at oh-dark-thirty this morning to do my hair.  Now she's doing Isabel's hair.  But Isabel realized that she left her shoes at her apartment, so I volunteered to go get them since I was getting claustrophobic in the house with all those people there.  I was on my way back when my phone rang.  Honestly, I was glad for an excuse to not have to go back there right away." 

"Oh," Jim said quietly, followed by an uncomfortable silence, in which neither of them knew what to say.  "Well, I'm really sorry I won't be able to go to the wedding, since I'm sick and all."  Jim's apology reminded her of the day he told her about the trip to Australia.

"Yeah, I get it Jim."  She laughed, " maybe I should come in there so I can get sick too and I won't have to go either."

Jim turned his head in surprise.  "Woah, Beesley, that's ummmm, better not let Roy hear you saying that." 

Pam sighed.  "Yeah, or my mom.  Or my dad.  Or my sister . . .   Oh god."  She buried her face in her hands. 

Jim tried his best to sound light-hearted.  "What's the matter Pam, getting cold feet?" 

"I don't know.  I guess I've kind of lost interest.  It's a really long life."  When Jim didn't respond, she said, "okay, sorry, that was lame."  She then let out a long sigh. 

Jim tried to process what he was hearing.  "Wow Pam, what are you saying here?  You know that this is still your choice, right?"  As that word came out of his mouth, he cringed.  He certainly did not want their conversation to go in the same direction as the last time they talked about choices.  He was nearly whispering now.  "I just want you to be happy.  Really, you deserve . . . so much more than . . . ."  He decided to stop before he said too much. 

Pam was beginning to get agitated.  "Jim, you have to understand that I thought this was what I wanted and now everyone's going to think I've lost my mind.  They're going to think I'm ungrateful and shallow and selfish and don't know what I want.  Who does this?  This isn't what I do!  I'm good old reliable Pam and I don't rock the boat.  What is the matter with me?  I'm being so horrible!" 

Jim took a deep breath and spoke slowly and quietly.  "Pam, I know who you are and you are definitely not horrible or selfish or anything like that.  You are the best and kindest person I've ever known.  You are warm, you are patient and you see the best in everyone.  There is nothing wrong with you.   So if this isn't what you want, then don't worry about Roy or your mom or your dad or your sister or anyone else.  They'll all be fine.  You're always worrying about everyone else, but this time you need to stop and listen to Pam -- she just might be trying to tell you something important."

While Jim talked, Pam ran her trembling fingers along the bottom of the bathroom door.  She found that she could actually slip the tips of her fingers under the door.  Almost immediately, she felt Jim's fingers gently stroking hers. 

"Jim, I've missed you so much this last week.  My heart actually hurt when I thought you were on the other side of the world.  And Jim, you should know that these cold feet are all your fault.  I've found myself getting so impatient with Roy because he's been. . . . . well, he actually hasn't been any different than he's always been.  But now, every time he disappoints me, I find myself thinking that YOU would never do that.  When I try to talk to him about the wedding, he acts so annoyed with me.  Jim, you're never annoyed with me --- you're always happy to see me and interested in what I have to say.  And you would never leave me stuck with every single arrangement.  I've kind of turned you into a superhero in my mind.  Jim would help me taste cakes. . .  and address wedding invitations. . . and pick flowers. . . and figure out table assignments to keep Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe apart.   Am I right?  Cause in my mind, you'd do them all.  Heck, you already helped me pick the band."  She paused --- "Oh no!  Kevin was so excited about playing at our wedding --- he's going to be so disappointed. . . " 

"Kevin will be disappointed Pam?  What are you telling me?" he whispered.

Pam stood up suddenly.  "Jim, I'm telling you that I need you to let me in there to use your mirror.  This thing on my head has a million bobby pins in it and I need a mirror to take it off." 

Puzzled, Jim stood up and opened the door to see Pam wearing her white Keds,  jeans and a tank top, with her hair curling beautifully under a lacy, delicate wedding veil.  God, she looks even more beautiful than Casino Night, he thought.  He gulped and stepped aside so she could get to the mirror.

"What's the matter Jim, haven't you ever seen a girl dressed in such a ridiculous outfit before?"  She walked past Jim to the sink and started to furiously pull bobby pins out of her hair while he watched with his mouth gaping open.  As she worked, her eyes locked on his in the mirror, only occasionally looking back to check for more pins.  Finally, she threw the veil off and it landed in the bathtub.  

Standing behind her, he tentatively placed his hands on her upper arms, and his chin atop her head, their eyes locked in the mirror again.  "Jim, can you ever forgive me for being such a complete and total idiot?  I know now that I've loved you for such a long time.  But I just figured that we were friends and it had to stay that way.  I wish I had realized . . . . "

Jim's hands moved up to her shoulders and placed gentle pressure on them to pivot her around to face him.  He quickly embraced her and pulled her close.  Pam's arms wrapped tightly around his waist as well, pulling them even closer.  With his cheek on her cheek, he whispered into her ear, "can you tell me Pam?"

She moved her arms to up around his neck and squeezed.  "Jim, I am in love with you!  All of my happiest moments have been with you.  I do want to be with you.  I love you!"  

Jim pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, a smile beaming from his entire face, gazing into her eyes with joy.  "Pam, is this real?  Are you sure?" 

Pam's smile beamed right back --- "yes Jim, I am very sure!"   With that, Jim softly placed his lips on hers and kissed her with tenderness and love.  Pam kissed him right back, and began to chuckle with joy.  She ramped up the enthusiasm and frequency of the kisses, until she stopped abruptly.  "Wait," she looked at him seriously.  "What are we doing?  I thought you were sick!  Oh, never mind, I don't care." 

Between her delicious kisses, he managed to say, "It's okay, Pam.  Suddenly I'm feeling 100% better."