“We couldn’t agree.”
“Who couldn’t agree…what?”
“It’s Shen’s fault,” he complained, which really didn’t answer her question.
“First he said, you wouldn’t want flowers. Then today, he thought you might, although he had no empirical proof regarding the veracity of that belief.”
“Right. So I brought you flowers. And cookies.” He walked out of her office. “I also,” he said from the hallway, “got you a plant.” And he came in with a five-foot-tall standing plant that he put in a corner. Christ, Livy was only five-one.
“And,” he said, gesturing at two other baskets, “food.” He pointed at one basket. “Nuts and fruits, nuts being the emphasis of the overall basket.” He pointed at the other. “Fruits and nuts, with fruits being the emphasis.” Went back into the hallway and came in with another basket. “And meats and fish.”
He placed the baskets in front of her desk.
“And”—he walked out again and quickly returned with one more basket—“honey. European and American. They didn’t have any African bee honey.”
Glancing around the room, he finally settled on placing that basket beside the standing plant.
Resting back on her heels, Livy asked, “Why?”
“Why are you bringing me anything?”
“It’s what people do when a friend suffers a loss.”
“I just bought you all these baskets, so we better be.”