Jim spent most of the remainder of his weekend helping his dad around the house, but also taking meaningless trips to the grocery stores, the gas stations, and Steamtown Mall. Every time he grabbed his keys, his mom gave him a side smirk and kissed his cheek as he left. He knew she probably thought he was being a little ridiculous and naive (hell, even he thought he was being a little ridiculous and naive), but he couldn’t help himself. He wouldn’t run into Pam in his living room so he had to give himself, and fate, a chance outside of the house.
Sunday afternoon came around and Jim finally accepted that he would have to drive back to New York. He had already taken Friday off and needed to be back to work first thing Monday morning. His stomach turned at the thought. Not only would he have to give up this pipe dream of finding Pam this weekend, but he would have to face Karen at work the next day. She had sent him a few very short texts over the weekend, mostly to let him know she was coming to pick up her things from their apartment. Jim was grateful he was out of town and didn’t have to see her pack up so many aspects of their life from the past two years. He knew he was better off–that they were better off this way–but as the return to New York approached, he began to feel a loneliness creep in.
He didn’t have Karen anymore. He didn’t have Pam and probably never would. All of his friends in New York were really Karen’s friends first so he wasn’t sure what they were to him now. Did he even want to continue living there anymore? Working there? How did his life become so foreign to him in such a short amount of time?
He would be okay. He always was. But that didn’t mean that things didn’t feel heavy right now. He pulled himself off the couch in his parent’s living room and swiped his keys off the side table.
“Where you going this time?” his mom called from the next room over after apparently hearing his keys scrape against the table. She always had the best ears.
“Just going to grab a drink at Poor Richards.”
He heard Betsy’s chair scrape across the kitchen floor and a few seconds later, her head poked around the corner. “Don’t you have to drive back tonight?”
Jim playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean literally one beer or something. I promise I won’t drink myself into a coma, mother. One drink, maybe throw a few darts, then I’ll be back.” He held up three fingers. “Scouts honor.”
“Very funny,” Betsy droned. “I’ll make up a batch of cookies for you to bring on your drive, okay?”
“Love you!” he called over his shoulder as he walked out the door.
The parking lot at Poor Richards was pretty sparse, which wasn’t much of a surprise for 2pm on a Sunday afternoon. He walked to the doors, hugging his coat close to his chest, and promising himself that it would really only be one drink, as much as he would like to temporarily forget a few things. He took a seat at the bar, shucking off his coat and placing it on the stool next to him. He noticed the man sitting two seats away. There were three empty bottles of Miller Lite in front of him as well as several empty shot glasses, with a fourth bottle in his hand. The man seemed to notice Jim’s gaze.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not driving myself home.” He took a long swig of beer. “Learned that the hard way,” he muttered, almost to himself.
“Oh, no,” Jim forced a chuckle. “I wasn’t…” he trailed off. He knew this guy, somehow. He was interrupted by the bartender.
“What can I get you?”
“Hey, uh, I’ll just have a Stella, please."
The bartender cracked the bottle cap off and slid it in front of him, then moved to the man next to Jim.
"Probably shouldn't ask, but anything else I can get you, Roy?"
It was like the feeling of inserting the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, when the picture finally becomes clear. Only that experience usually brings a sense of relief and satisfaction. This one just made Jim want to throw up.
He was sitting next to Pam's fiance.
He hadn't recognized him immediately because he was pretty sure the guy he saw at the airport and in the pictures wasn't four beers deep like the guy sitting next to him. Suddenly he didn't want a drink anymore. He wanted to be anywhere else, frankly. But somehow, at the same time, he wanted to stay there because in some weird, twisted way it made him feel close to Pam.
"Nah," Roy slurred. "I'm gonna call Kenny to come get me."
"Not Pam?"
Jim's pulse pounded in his ears at the sound of her name.
"Didn't I tell you, man? She called off the wedding. Moved out. Why do you think I'm here drowning myself in booze?"
Jim choked on the pretzel in his mouth. Surely he just imagined that.
"Ouch, sorry to hear that, dude."
Roy shook his head and twisted his bottle around on the bar. "It's a load of bullshit after 10 years together but she said she was done and nothing I said could convince her otherwise. Whatever."
Jim was now sweating through his shirt, straining to hear what Roy was saying but also trying to level his breathing and urge his brain to make sense of what he was hearing.
He threw some cash on the bar, avoiding eye contact with both the bartender and Roy, and rushed toward the exit, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did. Once outside, he pressed his back flush against the brick and opened his phone. He found himself on Pam's profile; at this point, it might as well have been muscle memory.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to slow his rapid breaths, each one visible in the cold air. Her profile still said "Engaged". She still had pictures with him.
But that was definitely Roy in there.
And he definitely had said Pam called things off.
And he was pretty sure the chances were slim that there was another Roy and Pam in Scranton.
So he opened up a blank message. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, shaking slightly, but not from the cold. He had no idea what to say, but he felt like he had to say something. His one reason for not messaging her before was because she was engaged and now that obstacle seemed to be gone.
"Hey, remember me? Funny story…"
Delete.
"So I heard you moved out. How do I know this? Because I'm a creep who came to Scranton to hopefully find you and ended up next to your ex in a bar and overheard some things and anyway my parents have a spare bed if you need somewhere to stay. Also I might be in love with you?"
Absolutely delete.
Jim exited out of the message and leaned his head against the wall, groaning. Something Roy had said was bouncing around his head.
Ten years.
They had been together for ten years. And now what? He was just going to immediately swoop in and live happily ever after with her? What if all the connection between them was in his head and there was nothing on her end? Ten years was a lot of birthdays, and Christmases, and life to spend with another person. He couldn't imagine what ending that must feel like.
But he had come this far. Fate, or serendipity, or whatever it was, had laid the breadcrumb trail to her, and he would be an idiot not to follow it.
Taking a deep breath in, he opened the message again.
"I'm not a stalker.
Better start with that. And in case you aren't sure, I am the Jim that knocked you over in the Denver airport. Hopefully that narrows it down, because if that's happened more than once we have bigger problems.
I can give you the big long explanation of how I found your profile. I can tell you it was chance, or fate, or luck, and maybe it was. But I'm feeling brave so I'll just tell you that I don't think I would have ever gotten a solid night of sleep again until I found you somehow.
That day at the airport was one of the best days I've ever had in my life and I even met Larry Bird at a Dunkin' Donuts once, so that's saying something.
Joking aside, meeting you gave me a new perspective on so many aspects of my life. It may have only been a few hours, but know that I'll never forget a single minute of it. You lit up a part of me that I didn't realize had gone dark, and I can't seem to stop thinking about you.
I don't really know what more to say other than I simply think you are wonderful.
You don't need to reply. I just needed you to know that you'll never just be "that one girl" I met at the airport. You'll forever be more than that to me."
He stared at the message he had typed out. His throat felt tight with nerves as he contemplated sending it. Holding his breath, he hovered over the send button for what seemed like an eternity before giving it a firm tap.
As he sat in the driver seat of his car, instant regret flooded through him. Why couldn't he have just started with a "Hey! Remember me?" and leave it at that? Instead, he basically bore his soul to her, right after she got out of a decade-long relationship, and started things off on a potentially awkward foot. How was she supposed to respond to his message, especially if she wasn't ready? He rubbed his hand over his face. "You're an idiot, Jim," he muttered to himself before turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from Poor Richards.
He parked in his parent's driveway and tugged his sleeve up to check his watch. It was now 3:00 and he told himself he would be on the road within the hour. The traffic going back into the city was always bad and he wanted to get a jump on getting home. Impulsively, he checked his messages. She still hadn't opened what he had sent. He figured that was better than her reading it and not replying, but it certainly didn't quell his nerves.
He packed his bags in his childhood bedroom and sat down. Without even looking, he could sense a presence poking her head through the doorway.
"Hey mom," he said with a half-smile.
"Hi, sweetheart. You leaving soon?"
He gave a nod and scooted over on the bed to make room for Betsy. She sat down next to him and put her hand lovingly on his back. Jim gave a sad chuckle.
"I can't believe I thought I would just happen upon her this weekend."
Betsy shrugged. "Scranton isn't that big."
Jim thought about telling her about the message he sent Pam but he decided to keep it to himself. He wanted to see what direction it went first.
Betsy gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and stood up. "I packed you some snacks and some dinners you can reheat when you go home."
Home. Wherever that was.
"You didn't have to, Mom."
"It's how I keep you coming back to visit," she said with a wink. "I love you, son. Chin up."
"Love you too," he smiled back.
He let out a sigh and decided it was time.
After checking his phone for the 23rd time that hour, he hugged his mom goodbye and started his trip home, wondering if it would even feel like home once he got back. On his way out of town, he decided to make one last stop for coffee. Driving always made him tired.
He walked into a coffee shop he had never been to. It opened after he had already moved away and since he wasn't a big coffee drinker normally, he had never stopped during his trips home.
It was quaint inside, and almost familiar. The smell of coffee mingled with pastries filled the air as he stepped to the counter to order. A girl who looked to be about his age smiled at him. Her name tag read "Isabel".
"What can I get for you?"
"I'll just have a large cup of your house blend. Two sugars. To go, if I could."
"Of course, and what's the name?"
"Jim."
Isabel paused and glanced at his face with a slight furrow in her brow. "Jim," she said slowly, but rather loudly, as she wrote his name on the cup. "We'll have that right out, Jim!"
He nodded, slightly confused by her reaction, but walked to one of the tables to wait, his back to the counter. He slid his phone out of his coat pocket and tried to do anything other than open his message to Pam. He checked his email and played a round of Candy Crush, but eventually he opened his messages, fully expecting to see Pam hadn't seen or responded.
He nearly dropped his phone. He blinked hard to make sure he saw the small little word "Read" under what he had sent. Not only that, but three little dots blinked incessantly at the bottom of the screen, indicating she was typing.
His heart pounded harder with every blink of those dots until he saw her words pop up under his.
"You know, Jim, for how much you told me you love ginger ale and grape soda…only two sugars?"
His head whipped around the coffee shop.
"Jim," a shaky voice said from behind the counter. "House blend?"
His heart leapt into his throat at the sound of her voice. He swiveled and faced the counter.
There she was, biting her bottom lip, trying desperately to hide the smile that spread across her face, tears beginning to brim her eyes.
"Two sugars?" she said with a shrug as a small laugh escaped her chest.
He couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face as he approached the counter slowly, somehow worried if he walked any faster she might disappear like a mirage. Finally, he reached her. He held out his hand for the coffee, never breaking his eye contact with her. Their fingers brushed and her hand stayed on the cup next to his, both of them beaming at each other, obviously attempting to hold back the emotion they felt. Jim cocked his head a little and spoke softly.
"Hi."
She laughed quietly and smiled. "Hey."
They stayed like that, two hands, one cup, just looking at each other, grinning, until Isabel interrupted them by clearing her throat. Pam let go of the cup and Jim laughed nervously.
"Do you want to, uh…go for a walk or something?" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're working, sorry–"
"No she's not!"
They both looked at Isabel. She glanced down at her wrist that didn't even hold a watch and continued. "Looks like your shift just ended! Imagine that." She didn't even try to hide the wink she flashed Pam's direction.
"Oh–okay, yeah," Pam stumbled as she caught on. "Let me just," she patted her apron and looked around, unsure of what to do next.
Isabel held out her hand. "Apron. I'll grab your purse from the back."
Pam untied her apron and gave it to Isabel, who basically ran to the back room. Pam looked back to Jim, a soft amazement in her eyes.
"You're here," she whispered.
He smiled and lifted a shoulder, still unable to unlodge the lump in his throat.
Isabel returned with Pam's coat and purse and shooed the two of them out the door before anyone could say a word.
They began walking down the street side-by-side, attempting small talk, lingering in occasional silences, until Jim stopped walking and turned toward her in a nervous haste.
"Listen, Pam, about my message. I didn't mean to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable, or anything like that, I was just in town and that day at the airport was…well, it was amazing and I–"
Pam placed her fingers on his lips to stop him. She took a deep, shaky breath and met his eyes.
"I can't seem to stop thinking about you either."
A small tear fell into the corner of her smile. She brushed it away with the sleeve of her coat and looked up to the sky with a little chuckle. "I don't know why I'm crying. It's just been a long couple of days and seeing you…" She tugged on the lapel of his coat. "It was just really good to see you."
Jim inched closer to her and lowered his voice. "I could say the same."
She laid her head against his chest and snaked her arms around him under his coat. His chin rested on top of her head as he pulled her closer to him and it was nearly impossible for him to comprehend that he actually had her in his arms.
"Hey," he said softly. "Can I tell you something I wanted to tell you in Denver but couldn't?"
Pam pulled back slightly so she could look at him and nodded.
He briefly searched her eyes and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I think you're beautiful."
More tears surfaced in the rims of her eyes as she placed a hand on the side of Jim's face. She tiptoed slightly higher and brought her forehead to his. Their breath mingled together in the frigid air as she whispered to him.
"I think I might kiss you now."
His lips were now impossibly close to hers. "Okay."
"But I'm practically a stranger."
"I know your last name now, Beesly," he breathed. "You're hardly a stranger."
Slowly, she placed her lips against his. He could feel her completely melt into him as they kissed but somehow it still wasn't close enough for him. He cupped her face and kissed her gently, but with purpose, and struggled to tether himself to the ground as his head swirled. She absolutely undid him.
They were completely lost in one another until a passing car honked and brought them back to reality. Pam buried her face in Jim's shoulder with a giggle then looked back up at him. He smirked, then bent down to give her one more short kiss.
"Definitely not strangers now."
****
As much as he had wanted to shirk any and every responsibility and stay with Pam in Scranton, he had to go back to reality. But fortunately, his reality now included Pam. They spoke on the phone any chance they could the week after he left, and texted and messaged each other in between.
They talked about Roy and Karen and while they both agreed they should take things relatively slowly, that didn't stop Jim from replaying the feeling of her lips on his almost constantly. His cheeks literally hurt from how much he had been smiling.
And after the slowest week of his life, Friday evening finally came. There was a small tap on his apartment door and he had to pretend he hadn't been pacing in the entryway for the last 15 minutes. Opening the door, he saw Pam standing in front of him with a pack of grape soda in one hand and fabric softener in the other. She grinned at him.
"In case you ran out."
Jim chuckled, took her face in both of his hands, and placed his lips on hers softly. And just like that, he found home.
Chapter End Notes:
I have one more small chapter planned and then this aircraft has officially landed. Thanks for reading!! :)
