The Gift

The Gift

When Becca said, “Reach around behind your seat if you can. There’s a box there,” I didn’t expect her to add, “It’s for you. From Greg.”

“Shoes,” she proffered. “I’ve been sitting on this for a month now, ever since before he moved to Singapore. That’s why I’ve been getting the abusive emails from him asking when I was going to see you.”

Shoes. Shoes. I’ve never received shoes as a gift before. And they aren’t the stiletto kind I usually wear, but the Ipanema by Gisele Bündchen kind. They weren’t what I would have bought for myself, but that someone (whom I have yet to meet) actually thought to buy me a pair of shoes — probably because he knows I’m a shoe person — as a welcome-home gift made them that much more endearing.

And the shoes aren’t bad either.

He bought me shoes. I guess I have to keep saying it until I believe it.

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