I’m in front of Gigi’s aural idol, feeling out of place and, frankly, stupid. But Garrett nudges me, and I step forward. “Uh. Hi. Mr. Grebbs. Huge fan.” From the corner of my eye, I see Garrett pressing his lips together to stop a laugh. “Well, really, it’s my wife who’s the fan. She has all your…soundscapes.” Garrett coughs into his hand. “Seriously, she listens to you religiously. In the car, on her runs, when she’s meditating.”
