Ian was just minding his own business when his sister nailed him.
"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" she asked.
The next day being a Saturday, Ian was naturally cagey.
"Why?" he asked bluntly.
"I've got some things Alice ordered at the candle party I held. I'm tied up tomorrow and she's the last delivery I have to make. Could you be a sweetheart and just drop them in for me. Oh, you also have to get the remainder of the money for them. It's only about ten dollars. It'll be on the invoice."
Alice was a single mother that they knew. In her early twenties, she had a daughter of about five. Cute kid, in Ian's opinion. Actually, cute mother, too, also in Ian's opinion, although he had never actively pursued her.
Thinking that he could just drop the parcel in first thing in the morning and then be on his way, Ian agreed, took the parcel and dropped it on his dressing table as a reminder.
Next morning, Ian headed down the street early. There were a few things he needed for the car, as it was well due for a bit of a service. Grabbing Alice's parcel, he decided to swing past there on his way, and at least he could tick that job off.
Rapping on the front door, he grinned as Vicky answered it.
"Good morning, Vicky," he greeted her, smiling. "Is mummy up? I've got a parcel for her."
"Mummy's up," said Vicky. "Can I take the parcel for her?"
"Better not, Vicky," Ian told her. "Mummy has to check it out and pay for it first. Maybe you should call her."
Instead, Vicky opened the door to let him in. She pranced down the hall, while Ian followed, smiling.
Flinging open a door, Vicky called out to her mother.
"Mummy, Uncle Ian is here and he's got a parcel for you."
Mummy was there alright, standing in a bedroom, completely starkers, staring frozen at Ian like a deer caught in the headlights.
The tableau stayed like that for an interminable moment. Then an indignant little voice spoke up.
"Mummy, you've got no clothes on. You said I should always have clothes on when we have visitors."
Choking with laughter, Ian turned to address Vicky.
"Why don't you go and watch TV for a while. I'll speak to your mummy about the importance of clothes when she has visitors."
With a bright "OK", Vicky shot from the room again, while Ian closed the door behind her, never taking his eyes of Alice.
By then, Alice had snatched up a towel from the bed and was holding it in front of herself, face flaming.
Laughing at her, Ian held up the parcel.
"I'm making a delivery of your loot from the candle party," he told her. "I understand there's ten dollars outstanding, which I'm supposed to collect.
Have you got it on you?" he added, tongue in cheek.