She doesn’t plan on calling her mother to cancel, she just does it. And once that’s done, she doesn’t plan on calling Jim to confirm the pick-up time; she just does.

On her last day in town, she goes to a drugstore and picks up a book to read on the plane. As she turns around, she’s faced with school supplies, and she remembers the excitement that school supply shopping used to bring. It wasn’t the actual going back to school that excited her, just the supplies. She would buy journals and binders, pens and pencils. And – this always threw her mother off – she’d go home and decorate everything, color it all and personalize every single piece with a sharpie.

Now, facing the journals and binders and pens and pencils, she decides that keeping a journal might not be a bad thing. They kept one in the fourth grade, why couldn’t she keep one now? She picks one up – already decorated with bright stripes – and heads back to her hotel.

*

When she sees Jim standing around with his hand on the back of his neck, she can tell he’s as nervous as she is. They attempt this awkward hug thing and it feels like she’s in a bad movie.

He goes with her to the baggage claim, making jokes and telling her if she left her stuff in Houston she better not be expecting Jim Halpert to refill her closet. She laughs half-heartedly, not knowing what else to do.

He helps her load her bags into his car. "Hungry?"

She really just wants to go home. "Yeah, I could eat. Something cheap, though."

"Nah, I’ll get it. There’s this great little place not too far from here. Some friends from college and I spent a lot of time there."

She’s tired and he’s hungry and things are just plain weird. She agrees and sinks into his car, relishing a slightly comfortable seat. "Can I put this window down?"

"Yeah, sure." He notices she’s got her headphones in. "You can plug your thing up to the car, if you wanna."

" ‘Thing,’ Halpert? I have a ‘thing’?"

"iPod, thing, whatever. The cord’s in the glove box." She plugs her iPod in because she doesn’t want to be rude.

They ride in silence, except for her music playing low. They enter the "bar and grill," which doesn’t even have a bar, in silence. They order, and she watches him stare at the table in silence.

She is definitely in a bad movie. "So," she had to say something, "what’ve you done with your week off so far?"

"Mowed my hallway, cleaned my three kitchens, you know. The usual." He smirks.

"Mowed your hallway?" She raises and eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. My apartment complex is really up-and-coming. We’ve got grass in the hallways and a five-star chef in every kitchen. You should check it out," he winks.

"Hm. Tempting, but I think I’ll stay put. There’s a little left I need to do to it before I…" She stops herself. Before she what? Leaves Scranton? For a couple of years? For good? For herself? Because of him? For him?

"Yeah," he doesn’t miss a beat. He looks down at the table. "You could rent it out or something. It’s got what, three bedrooms?"

"Yeah," she nods. He finally looks at her again. "One of them is a studio thing right now, though. It’s a mess."

"Yeah. Well, I mean, my lease is up in August. What would you be charging in rent?"

"I don’t know; August is a long way off. I don’t even know that I’m going anywhere."

"Oh, no, yeah. But, yeah, you know, if you decide to rent out or whatever, keep me in mind."

"I will," she promises, faking a smile.

The waiter comes around with their food after another few minutes. Finally, Jim asks it.

"Why a letter, Pam?" He moves his food around on the plate.

Damn. She thought she could get through one day back in this damn state without confrontation. "Because I’m a coward, I guess." He waits. "I don’t…Jim. I don’t have the courage to do what you did or anything like that. That letter was all I could do and damned if I know the actual point of it. I just wanted to get that off my chest."

"Why then? Why do you keep running from me?"

"Because I didn’t know if I was coming back. There’s a whole world outside of Scranton, and yeah Houston’s not the most welcoming or planet-friendly city, but it’s something and it’s not here. But I wasn’t running."

"I...Pam. Karen is so fucking mad at me. With reason, I know. I'm the first to admit I screwed her over. But...I...For me to do all of that, everything from that damn casino night to dumping her for you. For me to do that, and you tell me you don't love me?" He pauses. "Did you mean it?"

"First off, no one asked you to dump her. Just like no one asked me to break up with Roy. Okay? And secondly...I did. I was over it and I thought you should know. Why do you get a six-month pity-party and get to flaunt that in my face and I get scolded and basically slapped across the face for finally waking up?"

She knows she’s said the wrong things. Conversation the rest of the afternoon is strained and tense. He drops her at her house and says maybe he’ll call her tomorrow. She thinks maybe she’ll go back to work.

*

She calls her mother and hits a button to go straight to voicemail; she really doesn’t want to talk. Just to let her know she's home safe.

Her house is dark, but clean, and she makes two trips to her bedroom, wishing like hell she had a first-floor ‘master suite.’ She unpacks in silence. She’s not even really thinking; it’s like she’s checked out of herself.

She finally makes her way downstairs around eight P.M. and heads to the kitchen. She plugs her phone into the charger (don’t ask her why she put it there, she doesn’t know) and reaches for a beer from the refrigerator, but opts for water instead.

She practically jumps onto her sofa and immediately sinks into it, feeling her body relax with more with every breath. She taps her lamp in the corner and digs out her journal.