The fog was drifting over the distant hills. She could barely see them in the grayish morning light that shone through the branches of the eucalyptus tree outside her bedroom window. Marsha rolled over once more, wondering if she was really tired enough to go back to sleep. She had no other plans for this Sunday morning, but her body never seemed to want to sleep in later than about eight o'clock these days, no matter how late she'd gone to bed the night before.

California. No wonder everyone wanted to live here-almost January, and the worst weather she'd seen so far was a little bit of rain. No snow, better pay, her kids close by. Why hadn't she done this years ago? And now that her house had finally sold back in Scranton, maybe she'd be able to start paying Tony back for all his help. He'd done so much already. Flying her out here to visit, and then finding her a job and an apartment in the same city where he and Kathy lived with Sean and Audrey. It was more than she could've hoped for.

There wasn't one thing she missed about her life back in Scranton. Well, that wasn't true. Of course there was no way she could regret the move, but every once in a while she missed some things. Sometimes she missed the way the old familiar house had creaked a little bit on frosty mornings, and that nippy feeling in the air, right before a big snowstorm. Every so often she missed her old co-workers, and how they'd squabbled over little things-like whose turn it was to vacuum that night. The one thing she missed most of all were the letters.

Of course, that was just silly. She would never admit to anyone else that she missed a bunch of silly little love letters she'd rescued from a garbage can in an office building. In fact, she hadn't ever mentioned the letters to Tony or Sean-or even to Audrey, who might have at least been sympathetic, even if she wouldn't have really understood what was so special about them.

But they were special to her. That was why she was afraid to talk about them. It was those letters that had first helped her find herself again after years of aimless drudgery. Pam's letters had given her something to look forward to at a time when she really had nothing else. And meeting Jim in that coffee shop had shown her that she really did have the courage to make changes in her life, or in other people's lives. Those letters had given her that strength. And now they were gone.

She didn't even know what had happened between Jim and Pam after she left. Although, she was pretty sure she could guess. From the little she knew about Jim, she was sure he would take care of everything once he knew for sure how Pam still felt. That was why she'd sent him Pam's letters. Marsha had meant to break the news of Pam's feelings gently, but once she'd gotten Audrey's letter, Marsha had known that she had more important things to take care of in her own life.

That was almost a year ago now, and she'd only been back to Scranton once to pack up some more of her things and send them with the movers to California. She'd thought about trying to visit the Dunder Mifflin offices that weekend, but she knew no one would be around, and even if they were, she thought it was unlikely Jim would remember who she was, since they'd only met that one time. As for Pam, Marsha didn't even know what she looked like.

Well, it was no use. Sleep just wasn't coming back. She might as well make some breakfast and get ready for her day. She had planned a shopping trip with Audrey, who was home from Berkeley for the weekend. And Sean had mentioned something about going to a movie later. After making some coffee and toast, Marsha was on the way to the living room to flip through the channels for a bit when she grabbed the mail pile on her way, intending to sort through it as she ate breakfast. She never got anything interesting in the mail, so she'd gotten in a bad habit of just tossing it all in a pile all week long and then sorting out the bills and bank statements at the end of the week.

Today was no different. Hidden among the piles of supersaver ads and offers for magazines were just three envelopes. Marsha eyed the first warily. Her credit card bill. Great. The second was something from her insurance company and the third looked like a late Christmas card. It was from someone named Beesly in Pennsylvania and had been re-directed from her old address. No wonder it had gotten to her so late.

She ripped the envelope open as she tried to remember how she knew the Beeslys. Were they old friends of her kids from school there? That didn't seem right. Perhaps someone she'd worked with? She stopped when a piece of tissue paper and a photo fell into her lap. She looked down at the elaborately scrolled piece of ivory paper in her hands. This was no Christmas card.

Mr. and Mrs. Carl and Annette Beesly are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter Pamela Jane to James Nathaniel Halpert son of...

A wedding announcement! Marsha drew in a gasp as she continued to read. They were getting married in May. She picked up the photo that was sitting in her lap to see a smiling Jim holding a woman who must be Pam in his arms, next to a large tree. They looked so happy, she could hardly take her eyes off them. Then she noticed that there was still something in the envelope.

Dear Marsha,

We just wanted to thank you for everything you did to help us to get here.

Except for the part when you totally creeped me out in that coffee shop, oh, and the part where you delivered my dream girl letters without my permission. I had no idea you were that devious.

He's kidding. We're grateful for EVERYTHING. Even when you did sneaky things behind our backs, because obviously we needed it.

Right. And we really hope you'll get this and keep in touch. We've been trying to call you, but the line's been disconnected. So, we got your address from the janitorial company. Well, Pam got your address from the janitorial company.

What? Just because you were too scared to pose as a member of the IRS! I still can't believe we didn't come up with a better excuse for needing that information, by the way.

Whatever. The point is, we got your address and we tried to stop by, but the people at your house said you'd moved, and then we didn't know what to do.

But we really hope that you'll get this and call us back because we'd love to thank you in person. If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be writing those pointless letters and Jim would still be dating Karen and anyway, life would just suck. So thank you for helping us to fix what we were too stubborn or too scared to fix ourselves.

Oh, and we really do want you to come to the wedding, so RSVP soon. According to one of our co-workers a person who doesn't RSVP at least three weeks before the event doesn't deserve to come at all.

Seriously? You're gonna end this by quoting Angela?

I'm just trying to get her to call us!

Okay, I think we're about done here. Wherever you are Marsha, we just wanted to say thanks. And please do call. We'd love to talk to you.

Sincerely,

Pam Beesly

and

Jim Halpert

P.S. Pam stole the letter before I could finish saying goodbye. Which I really think should be my job seeing as how I'm the one who actually met you, and besides Pam got to start the letter, so I should get to finish it. Anyway, in case we didn't make it clear we really are grateful. Me especially. You have no idea how much I needed to hear everything that was in Pam's letters. Well, anyway, thanks again!

- Jim

Marsha couldn't help but laugh a little as she read over their letters one more time. She should have known Jim and Pam would still want to talk to her. When she got to the end again, she glanced over at the clock. If it was 9:30 here that would make it 12:30 in Scranton. With a smile, she reached for the phone and dialed the cell number Pam had scribbled next to her signature.

-----

Five years later...

"Mom! I'm home!"

"In here," she called.

"Hey."

"Hey, kiddo. How was school?"

"Eh."

"That good, huh?"

"Least it's over."

"Yeah. No school for another three months, right?"

"Uh-huh. I'm gonna go watch the game."

"Okay." Marsha smiled to herself as her son finished pouring the milk into his usual after-school bowl of cereal, and then walked out of the kitchen and plopped himself onto one of the oversized chairs in her living room. One syllable conversations were supposedly the norm for teenage boys, but Sean seemed to have a particularly well-honed ability to get by with the fewest number of words possible.

Still, it was nice to have him talking at all. It seemed like Audrey's calls were becoming fewer and further apart the longer she spent away from home. And now that her daughter was off interning in Washington for the summer; Marsha knew she'd be lucky to hear from Audrey more than once a week at the most.

Marsha wished there was some way she could make up for all those years she could've spent with her kids while they were growing up, but even now, when she'd been living near them for almost five years, she knew she'd never be able to stop regretting all that time she'd missed.

Letting out a little sigh, she wiped the counter one last time and grabbed the stack of mail Sean had brought in from the box on his way inside.

Three more college brochures for Sean, a utilities bill, and a letter. A letter? She never got letters. Except...

Marsha smiled as she checked the return address. Yep. Scranton.

Dear Auntie Marsha,

Thanks for the pretty doll you gived me. I like it a lot. I am writing this letter and telling Daddy what to say. He says I should say I love you. Now I am four years old. The end.

Love,

The signature was a bit abstract but Jim had added a helpful caption below it.

(Veronica)

P.S. This is Jim. Just wanted to say thanks from Pam and me, too. Ronnie loves the doll. Spends hours with it, actually. Anyway, just wanted to let you know you're welcome to stay with us if you happen to feel like visiting Scranton again this summer. We'll be a little busy with the new little guy in August, but I'm sure Ronnie and Pam would both love to have you and Sean come before then. And Audrey if she's around, of course. Hope all's well! Say hi to your kids for me.

"What's that?" Sean asked, looking over at her when the A's game switched to commercials.

"It's a thank you letter from Veronica for her birthday present. Jim says we should come stay with them this summer. What do you think?"

"Sure. Sounds good to me."

"I'll bet he takes you to a Phillies game again."

"Uh-huh," Sean said, reverting back to his usual conversation style now that the game was back on. But when Marsha looked up a bit later, she was pretty sure Sean's small smile had little to do with the fact that whoever was batting had just hit another foul.

-----

Several years after that...

The dust was thick in this part of the garage. Audrey was pretty sure her mom hadn't looked at some of these boxes since she'd moved into this house ten years ago, and chances were good she hadn't actually looked inside the boxes in an even longer time. With a sigh Audrey grabbed another one and lugged it over the ever-growing pile in the other corner of the garage where her mom was supposedly sorting through them. In reality, sorting had turned into reminiscing about every single object her mom had collected in her life and trying to figure out how to get it all back into a box so Audrey could return it to the other side of the garage. She should've known that volunteering to help her mom get rid of all her junk would devolve into this.

"Here's another one," she said, setting down the box. "How's it coming?"

"Not too bad. I'm getting rid of all that stuff."

Audrey looked to the stack of papers her mother had tossed onto the floor next to her and then at the much larger stack that was still on the table. "What about those?" she asked.

"Oh, I can't get rid of everything," Marsha replied.

"Right. Sorry. Hey, what about this box?" Audrey asked, trying to see if there was some way to speed up this process. She'd left her kids with a sitter and even though they loved playing with Riann, she had been hoping to get back before 6. "Mom?" Audrey asked again when Marsha didn't answer.

"Hm? Oh, um, what does the label say?"

"Uh... J and P."

"Oh, no. I'm keeping all of that."

"Mom!" Audrey was trying hard to keep the exasperation out of her voice at this point. "You can't keep everything. Do you really need this box?"

"Yes. That one I need. Some of these other ones, maybe not. But I need that one."

"Why? What's so special about this one?"

"See for yourself," her mom replied cryptically.

Audrey opened the lid on the box to find a neatly organized stack of papers. She picked up the top one to read it. She was surprised to see that the date at the top of the page was from only a few months ago.

Dear Marsha,

It's been awhile since we've written and I'm sorry about that. Jim and I have been thinking about you a lot lately, so we thought we'd send you a surprise. I'm not sure if you'll even be interested in these, but we thought if you weren't you could just get rid of them. We also wanted to thank you again for everything you've done for us. I can't imagine what my life would be like if you hadn't started saving those letters out of my garbage can. Actually, I guess I can imagine, but I'd really rather not think about it.

Anyway, we're all doing well here. Veronica was on the swim team this year and is starting to think about colleges, which is frankly disturbing. I don't know where my little girl went, but I can't believe she'll be gone by this time next year. Caleb is starting seventh grade in the fall, and he's been getting involved in leadership at his school. He's so charismatic--just like Jim. Even at thirteen, he knows exactly how to work a crowd. Sometimes I can't believe they're so grown up.

Well, I'd better go. I hope Sean and Audrey are doing well. We'd love to hear from you soon!

Love,

Pam

P.S. In case you were concerned, these are all just copies, I doubt we'll ever give up the originals, but we thought you might appreciate seeing some of these again.

Audrey set the letter aside, realizing now what J and P stood for. Her mom had never been really clear about how she'd met Jim and Pam, but Audrey knew they were good friends of hers from Scranton and that they still kept in touch through letters every now and then. She'd asked her mom once about the letter thing, wondering why they didn't just use e-mail, but her mom had just smiled and said that letters were nicer than e-mails sometimes.

She looked down at the rest of the stack and was a little surprised to see that the top one was another letter. This one began, "Dear Dream Girl." Curious now, she rifled through the rest of the stack and then turned to see her mom looking down at her indulgently.

"What are all these?" Audrey asked.

"Well, it's a pretty long story, but I've been thinking about telling it to you for years." Marsha said, a smile spreading across her wrinkle-lined face.

Audrey bit her lip. She had really been hoping to finish this cleaning job today, but she couldn't get rid of that curious feeling. Her mom had already stood and begun to make her way through the boxes toward the door that led inside the house. With a smile Audrey followed her inside, balancing the box of letters in one hand as she brought them inside, and using her other hand to turn off the garage light and shut the door behind her.