"Will you do me a favor and--oh no, nevermind," I asked Mr. Ashley.
"What? What are you hiding?"
"It seems like you're up to something."
"I want the Diet Dr. Pepper out of the back of my car, but if you do that for me, you will see my new chair."
"Your new chair?" He asked in the tired voice of someone who knows we don't have room for a new chair.
I have a strange passion for chairs. I once had to sell 12 at a garage sale because it had gotten really out of control. I still miss 4 of them. It is extremely hard for me to pass up a single wooden chair...they call to me. We need each other.
"Yeah, I have a new chair."
"From where?" He knew from where.
"Someone was just getting rid of it!"
"Trash? Was it on the curb?"
"It's a really good chair. A really good one. I just have to see if I can fix..."
He began laughing. "It's a really good chair but you have to see if you can fix it?"
"Just the upholstery part."
"Is that all?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yes. It's a really good chair."
It will be a really good chair.