“I’ll be back in three minutes. I forgot to give you something.”
I went upstairs.
“I forgot to give you something.”
***
A week earlier, after Greg ignored my request the second time, I’d prepared for the possibility that his new personality might require visual aids.
I returned carrying a small box.
“For you.”
I returned carrying a small box.
Greg looked delighted.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Brittany leaned back.
Greg lifted the lid.
Then stopped.
Inside stood a miniature cardboard version of him.
Shirtless.
Flexing.
“What’s this?”
I’d used a picture Greg himself had posted after reaching his latest gym goal.
Above Cardboard Greg’s head was a speech bubble.
GO AHEAD. ADMIRE ME.
Brittany made a choking sound and covered her mouth.
Greg stared at me.
“What on earth is this?”
“You.”
“What on earth is this?”
Brittany lost the fight and laughed.
Greg pulled the little standee from the box.
“Why would you make this?”
“Keep looking.”
Underneath was a print-shop mockup for an order I had designed but not approved.
Same Greg.
Much larger.
“Why would you make this?”
The mockup showed a full-size cardboard version intended for the lobby of his gym.
At the bottom:
FULL-SIZE DISPLAY: APPROVAL PENDING
