kiwords

"Here, honey," Clay said, "I got these faxed for you." He handed me some papers.

"Oh, great," I said, "thanks." I turned to toss them on the top of the teetering pile on my bedside table. When I turned back, he was still watching me.

"You know, I could take care of those for you..."

"Um, thanks, I got it."

"I'd be happy to make you your very own file."

I looked at him, and he cast a telling glance at his filing cabinet. It is his own personal shrine to order and right. I am a trial to the poor man, with my stacks and my I'll-get-to-it plans. He is far too good to me.

"Okay, hon. That'd be great," I said. I picked up the papers and handed them back.

So it's not like I never gave him anything.