His email was quite specific.

Be seated in your roof chair at two forty-five.

Bring the following:
- a red fine-point Sharpie
- a straw
- an unused tea bag
- a print out of your favorite word

Ignore these demands at your peril.

Pam sat down in her chair at two forty-three. She had placed the required items in a envelope because it was too cold on the roof not to wear her mittens, and she couldn't keep a hold on all the times with them on.

She heard the roof door creak open at two forty-four. She could tell by the sound of the crunching snow and gravel that it was him. She was becoming an expert at distinguishing his footsteps over many different surfaces. He pulled his chair up next to hers and sat down.

“You're a minute early,” she said.

“Less than a minute, really. But I knew you were already here. Did you bring the items I requested?”

She handed over the envelope. He pulled out each item. “Red, good. Bendy straw? Nice touch, Beesly.”

“Thanks.”

“Lipton Green Tea? Yeah, that'll do. And the word of the day is - Tetrahendron?”

"It's a a polyhendron composed of four triangular faces."

"I know what it is, Beesly, I can read Wikipedia, too. That's not your favorite word."

She tried to keep a straight face. “Maybe it is today.”

“Are you trying to blow this mission, Beesly?”

“No, of course not,” she said, her lips betraying her with a grin.

“Well, never mind. I guess we'll have to go with it.” He put the items back into the manila envelope, folded it over, and stuck it under his thigh so it wouldn't blow away. He pulled a dark pink envelope out of his coat and handed it to her. “Happy Anniversary,” he said.

She looked at him, surprise evident on her face. “Really?” she asked, taking the card from him.

He leaned toward her. “Yeah - it's been a month since, well, we finally got it together.”

Pam smiled at the memory. Finally getting it together was a very neat turn of phrase for a day that seemed catastrophic at the time. They had a huge argument in front of the entire office. Even Jan was there. She stormed out. He stormed out. She sat at home crying until he turned up on her doorstep. She let him in and they argued some more. When they finally shouted all the hurts and misunderstandings and frustrations out, the only thing left was undeniable love, and the knowledge that they couldn't bear to be apart any longer.

She opened the envelope. The front of the card was a photo of a deserted beach, sunset approaching. “God, that looks inviting,” she said smiling.

“I hope so,” Jim replied.

Inside he had written Come away with me. Love, Jim xoxoxo

She looked up, perplexed.

“How much vacation time do you have?” He asked.

“It's March - I still have about eight days.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. “You'll be using up five of them in two weeks.”

She uncreased the paper he'd handed her. It was a print out from Expedia, and it listed the details for a week-long Caribbean cruise booked for two people for mid-April.

“Jim...” she began, sounding as much in shock as she felt. “What did you do?”

“When was the last time you had a real vacation?”

She shook her head. “I can't even remember.”

“Well, you deserve one. We both deserve one. And I want nothing more than for us to get the hell out of here and spend some time alone. A lot of time alone. Together. Together alone.”

She couldn't help smiling as he stumbled over his words. She could tell he was starting to worry about her reaction. “I can't afford this,” she said softly, folding the paper back up.

“You can afford a swimsuit,” he replied. “And that's all it's going to cost you.”

“I can't let you pay for this.”

“Why not?”

“It's not right.”

“How is it not right?”

“Well,” Pam stalled, trying to come up with a reason, “You aren't financially responsible for me.”

“So what? I want to buy this for you. ” Jim put his hand on her coat sleeve. “Okay, imagine that in some parallel universe somewhere you and I got married.”

“Okay....”

“Now, it's usually acceptable for the guy to pay for the honeymoon, right?”

Pam nodded. “Yes, I guess so...”

“So why can't you just look at this as a pre-honeymoon?”

“A pre-honeymoon?”

“Yes,” he grinned, obviously pleased with his logic. “Look at it as a chance for us to really see what it's like to just be the two of us, with all this craziness locked out.” He watched as she opened up the travel sheet again. “Come on, Pam,” he said softly, “You know you want to. Let me do this for us.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shiny from tears threatening to spill over her lashes. “Promise me one thing,” she said.

“Anything.”

“No Speedos.”

Jim sighed loudly. “Damn it, Pam. That's the only good swimsuit I have.”

Her tears mixed with her laughter, and she moved from her chair into his open arms, kissing him. She kissed him until he knew without a doubt that she was grateful for his gift, grateful for his love.  A vacation sounded like exactly what the two of them needed, Speedos notwithstanding.