Mad About You

finished when he heard a knock on the door and glanced up to see Jasmine waving through the glass.
    His heart thudded crazily as he unlocked the door. She, too, had changed from her dusty clothes and wore a loose, turquoise silk tunic over a slim, flowered skirt. The long, dark ponytail had been braided and hung over her left shoulder, clasped with a simple silver ring that matched the thick chain at her throat. Her bare legs were golden from a lingering tan and her own natural coloring, and she wore strappy sandals that exposed her pink toenails. She looked beautifully exotic, and Ladden didn't trust himself to speak.
    "You made a lot of progress," she said, turning in place in front of the counter.
    He nodded, his mind racing for something clever to say. "Yeah," he managed.
    "Oh, and the lamp is beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes glowing as she lifted it and stroked the surface.
    "Yeah." Why couldn't he think of something, anything, to say to prolong her stay?
    "How much do I owe you?"
    Ladden bit the inside of his cheek. He felt funny about charging her for a little whatnot, considering his heart was hers for the taking. "How about dinner?" he asked, as amazed at the words that came out of his mouth as Jasmine appeared to be.
    "Dinner?"
    "Sure." He leaned against the counter so he wouldn't fall down. "I know a great little place down the block with the best seafood in town."
    The corners of her mouth turned up even as her brow furrowed. "That sounds nice, Ladden, but I don't think—"
    Her response was cut short by the clanging bell on the door announcing another visitor. Ladden turned to see his Uncle Ernie lumbering inside, still dressed in his plumber's uniform of dark coveralls. "There you are, Lad. Your Aunt Silvie was getting worried about you, then I got a strange call from Saul a few minutes ago and thought I'd better see what's keeping you." The tall, burly man stopped and glanced at Jasmine with dancing eyes. "But I see what's keeping you."
    "Er, Uncle Ernie," Ladden said with rising embarrassment, "this is Jasmine Crowne. Jasmine, Ernie Sanderson."
    "Pleasure, little lady," Ernie said, offering her a big paw to shake.
    "Same here," Jasmine said with a small smile.
    "Well, come on," Ernie said, gesturing to Ladden. "Maddie is waiting to blow out the candles. Silvie will have one of her spells if that chocolate cake melts down."
    Ladden shifted uncomfortably and jerked his head toward the door meaningfully. "You go ahead, Ernie, and tell them not to wait. I'll be there as soon as I can."
    "That's all right," Jasmine interjected. "I need to be leaving, too."
    "You're coming with Lad, aren't you?" Ernie asked, his bushy brows high on his creased forehead. "We have a family tavern and hangout. Ladden's Aunt Silvie would love to meet the woman in his life."
    Ladden closed his eyes, tingling with humiliation. "Ernie, please go ahead."
    "I really do need to go," Jasmine said hurriedly, tearing out a check and signing it quickly. "Let me know if this isn't enough," she said, stuffing the paper into Ladden's hand. She practically ran to the door, holding the copper lamp against her chest. Ladden's heart fell as she scrambled out the door.
    "Thanks, Uncle Ernie," he said.
    "What did I say?" Ernie demanded, throwing up his hands. "Are you sleeping with her?"
    "No, I'm not sleeping with her! What's the matter with you?" Ladden bellowed.
    "Ah," his uncle said, nodding calmly. He put his arm around Ladden's shoulder and steered him toward the door. "Then that explains why you're so aggravated… and why you smell like a muskrat."

    * * *

    "I'm starving," Ladden announced as he held open the door of Tabby's, the family watering hole for the last two decades, for his Uncle Ernie. He kissed his Aunt Silvie and pulled his young Cousin Maddie's ear after she blew out twelve of the thirteen candles on her chocolate cake, joining them in a booming rendition of "Happy Birthday." When the song was done, he crossed the spacious restaurant to the bar and yelled a greeting to Malone, the bartender.
    "Here you go, Ladden," Malone said, sliding a mug of beer toward him.
    Ladden pulled out his wallet, but Malone waved it off. "Drink up tonight, buddy," he said. "Your friend covered your tab."
    Confused, Ladden asked, "What friend?"
    Malone shrugged. "Some old guy with a turban. He gave me a brand-new hundred dollar bill and asked me to give you this note."
    Frowning, Ladden took the small folded note and opened it. A wise first