His Wedding. Muriel Jensen

more important than work, no matter whose livelihood was at stake. Particularly when a woman and a baby were involved.

      “Can I promise to do better?” Joe asked hopefully. “I like working here and I really need this job.”

      “And I really need someone to help me out. But I have to be able to depend on you.”

      “I know, I know,” Joe said eagerly. “I promise you can. I’ll tell her not to call me unless it’s an emergency.”

      “Tell her you’ll call her when it’s slow. But if you get busy, you’ll have to call her back.”

      “I will.” He looked relieved and sat forward in his chair. “She’s been kind of…well, she’s sort of…” He suddenly gave up trying to talk around it and said with a deep breath, “She’s pregnant. Our parents are totally freaking out, but I’m okay with it. I’m staying home from school so I can save some money so we can get married. But my parents want me to go to school. They say they’ll pay for everything. I want to, though. She’s my girl. It’s my baby.”

      Brian had to commend him for his attitude, but wondered if Joe had a realistic idea of what he was up against. And what it would cost.

      “Do you have insurance that’ll help with this?”

      “No. But I’ll work hard. The trouble is, we were going to wait to get married until I could afford an apartment and a car, but her parents want her to give the baby up for adoption. She’s really upset. Her parents are nice people, but they don’t understand that we really love each other and we want this baby.” He firmed his jaw. “So you can take all the time off you want, and I’ll be happy to fill in for you ’cause I could use the extra hours, and I’ll do everything the way you would do it. Don’t worry.”

      Brian felt for his innocence, while still applauding a sense of responsibility that wasn’t always in evidence among kids Joe’s age.

      “Tell you what,” he said. “If you do a good job for me—take care of our customers and keep the shelves stocked and the place clean—maybe we’ll have to talk about a raise.”

      The boy was stunned, then his face split in a wide grin. “That’d be cool,” he said.

      “Okay. After you finish stocking, then you can go home. I’ve got a few orders to place before I leave tonight.”

      Brian went into his small, cluttered office, all that talk about babies reminding him that he’d intended to lay in more baby supplies. He had diapers and wipes, but mothers were always asking for baby food, teething biscuits, pacifiers. He pulled out a catalog he’d saved from the score that came in every day and settled down to review it and make some choices.

      The cover of the catalog featured a young woman with long dark hair and a young baby on her hip. The woman reminded him of Janet and he was instantly distracted.