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Caught by Gina's husband, he gets his own back.

Her tongue flicked out trying to capture an imaginary speck of food on her lip.

Warren saw this and was momentarily distracted. He took a deep breath and continued. "All right, here goes: Jesus is wandering around one of Jerusalem's markets when he decides he really needs a new robe. After looking around, he sees a stall with a pile of robes for sale. He enters and meets a gnarly little man named Finkelstein and asks politely if Finkelstein can make him a robe. Then Warren switched to a poor Jewish dialect. "Can I make for you a robe? Of course, of course, of course; I'll make for you the perfect robe." Finkelstein waded into a pile of material and finally produces a brilliantly colored robe which turns out to be a perfect fit.

When Jesus asks how much he owes, Finkelstein brushes him off. "No, no, there's no charge. But, may I ask a small favor? A very little tiny favor? Maybe whenever you give a sermon you could just mention a little something about how your nice robe was made by Finkelstein the Tailor?"

"Sure, sure," Jesus readily agreed, and as promised, plugged Finkelstein's robes every time he preached.

Some months later, Jesus is walking through the market place again and happened by Finkelstein's stall. There is a huge line of people waiting for Finkelstein's robes. Jesus gently makes his way through the crowd to speak to Finkelstein.

"Jesus, Jesus, look what a marvel you've been for business!" Gushes Finkelstein.

"Would you consider a partnership?"

"Sure, sure," Jesus replied, and after giving the thought some more consideration, said, we can call it, "Jesus and Finkelstein."

"Uh... no... no," Finkelstein says. "It should be Finkelstein and Jesus. After all I am the craftsman."

The two of them debate this for some time. They have quite a good theological discussion as well. Finally, after several glasses of wine, they arrive at a compromise decision that had both Jesus and Finkelstein smiling.

A week later, a huge sign went up over Finkelstein's stall. It read: Robes by "Lord & Taylor."

Jasmine burst into an unpretentious peal of laughter that gave Warren a warm, contented feeling that lasted well beyond the meal.

After dinner they sat on the couch enjoying brandies. There was occasional contact. No ___ they brushed against one another, as if by accident. Could it have been premeditated?

"Ever play football?" Jasmine asked to get a conversation going after a long silence.

"In High School. Wasn't big enough for college."

"Where did you go?"

"Rutgers."

"What was your Major?"

"Psychology."

"Why?"

"I like analyzing people."

"So why aren't you a Psychologist?"

"Well, the Navy happened along...."

"And after the Navy?"

"Other things happened."

"You spent all that time and energy on Psychology and went nowhere with it afterward?"

Warren squirmed uneasily before answering. "Yeah, well... it made my Aunt Mary happy. She... well, she ummm, paid my way. She wanted me to go to college. So I did."

You're a nice guy, Warren, Jasmine thought.
"That was good of you," she said.

"Like err, my Aunt was good to me. She raised me when my Moth...."

Warren ended the sentence abruptly.

"It made her happy, so...."

"What happened with your Mother?" She asked this although she feared she might be crossing over a line.

"Good question," he said slowly, drawing out both words. He stared at the far wall as though conjuring up an image. "As far as I can tell, she aban... um, left when I was two years old. We never heard from her again."

Her heart went out to him. And Jasmine realized instinctively it was this facet of his personality even more so than his honesty and compassion that probably caused her to feel that way she did about him.

Another insightful concept burst upon her a moment later.

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