She cleared her throat twice before answering, “Probably the larger one.”

  “Fine,” Katie said brightly. “Then I’ll take the smaller one.” She pulled a five-dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it to Christy.

  Christy looked to Jon, and he said, “Go ahead. Remember which button you press first?”

  Christy remembered. She tried to ignore Katie and think through each step on the cash register. It worked. The drawer opened when it was supposed to, and the screen displayed the correct amount of change due, which she handed to Katie without looking her in the eye.

  “You’ll do fine up here, Christy,” Jon said. “I’m going in the back. If you need me, press this button.” Jon showed her a red button under the counter.

  The instant he was out of view, Christy let her facial muscles relax and said, “You almost got me fired!”

  Katie giggled. “You know what? I changed my mind. Could I exchange this dog bone?”

  “Not a chance. I have no idea how to do returns. Go find yourself a dog and give him a treat,” Christy teased.

  “Speaking of dogs,” Katie retorted mischievously, “what’s happening with Rick?”

  “Katie, that was low!” Christy could feel her resentful thoughts from their lunch conversation returning. Katie had no right to be so critical of Rick.

  “You know I’m only kidding. Is he coming in to see you tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. I wrote him and told him about the job and everything.” She felt like adding, “What do you care?” But she noticed Jon coming back up to the front.

  He stepped behind the counter and pulled out a clipboard with a stack of papers attached to it. Noticing Katie still standing there, he said, “Is there a problem here?”

  I’ll say! Christy felt like answering. My closest friend is acting like anything but a friend.

  “Yes, I changed my mind,” Katie said, falling back into her role-playing voice. “I don’t think Poopsie will like this bone. I’d like my money back.”

  Jon calmly put down the clipboard. “Watch, Christy. This is how you do a return.”

  He went through a few simple steps, and when the drawer opened, he asked Christy to count out the money and hand it back to the customer.

  “Thank you,” Katie said, smiling at Jon. “Your salesclerk here has been most helpful. I’ll be sure to tell all my friends to shop here.”

  As soon as she walked out of the store, Jon said, “I hope her friends aren’t like her.”

  Christy kept a straight face. After all, Katie deserved that comment.

  “Come on back, and I’ll show you how to clean the cages. Beverly!” Jon called to the other salesclerk, who was stocking fish food. “Will you cover the register?”

  For the next half hour, Christy was tutored in the fine science of replacing shredded newspapers on the bottom of a wide variety of cages.

  By the fifth cage, she thought, Living on a farm didn’t prepare me for this. Now, if I’d lived on Noah’s ark, maybe.

  She then learned how to stock shelves, the right way to scoop up fish in a net, and which brand of dog food was on special. Jon didn’t let up in his rapid training of every facet of the store, so Christy stopped him to ask questions. Twice she asked him to repeat his instructions because there were too many details to remember the first time through.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll catch on,” Jon said. “The last thing I need to show you is the snake.”

  Christy made a grim face. “As long as I don’t have to touch it, I’ll be fine.”

  Jon laughed at her squeamish response. “Walter wouldn’t hurt a fly. A couple of rodents or a small rabbit, yes. But not a fly.” He smiled at his own joke. “Walter’s over here in this locked terrarium.”

  Christy stood back as Jon showed her how to lock and unlock the tank of the fifteen-foot python. She nodded every time he looked at her to make sure she was taking in all the instructions.

  “I won’t ever have to feed him though, will I?”

  “Naw. I’m the only one who feeds him. I want you to keep an eye on this lock though. It’s an old tank, and sometimes kids sneak back here and yank on the lock. They think it’s funny to get Walter all excited.”

  Jon checked his watch. “Why don’t you take a fifteen-minute break? When you come back, I have a dinner appointment.”

  Christy decided to spend her fifteen minutes out in the mall rather than at the card table in the back room. As soon as she stepped into the open space, she noticed how good the air smelled. Sniffing her T-shirt, she realized she had brought the heavy odor of the menagerie with her.

  Maybe I should visit a department-store perfume counter and sample a few perfumes?

  “Going somewhere without me?” a deep voice behind Christy asked.

  She spun around and met Rick’s overpowering hug.

  “Hi. I’m so glad to see you!” She squeezed his middle then pulled back. “Better not get too close. I smell like a pet store.”

  “You smell fine,” Rick said, leading her over to a bench. “What time do you get off?”

  “Nine. I’m on a fifteen-minute break now. What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  “Are you planning to work every Friday?”

  “At first, yeah. That’s the time they needed somebody. It might change later. Why?”

  “Didn’t you happen to think we might have plans for Friday nights?” Rick didn’t try to conceal his anger. “There are plenty of places that need after-school help, Christy. You sure weren’t thinking when you took this one. Now all our Friday nights are shot.”

  “Rick, I’m sorry. I had to find a job, and this one came up, and—”

  “And I suppose it’s the only one you applied for. Man! I can’t believe you did this. I mean, don’t you think it would’ve been considerate of you to at least talk this over with me?”

  Christy couldn’t answer. Now she was afraid to tell him she also worked until six o’clock on Saturdays.

  Why didn’t I think of this before? I can’t believe he’s so mad at me!

  “You know, this is great. I come home for the weekend knowing that my girlfriend has been grounded because of some stupid thing about not calling to let her parents know I was driving her home. I can’t talk to you all week, and your dad won’t let up an inch. And now you’re working every Friday night. That stinks, Christy! This is not the way to start off our relationship.”

  “I know,” Christy whispered, feeling the tears bubbling up and spilling over onto her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can switch to another night.”

  “Why are you crying?” Rick slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. “Hey, it’ll all work out. It took me by surprise, that’s all. You’ll be able to switch your hours or get another job or something.”

  He held her for a few minutes while she dried her tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Christy said, “but I probably should get back. I was only supposed to be gone fifteen minutes.”

  “You still have a few minutes,” Rick said, stroking her hair. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how much I missed you this week. I thought about you every day.”

  “I missed you too. And I’m glad you’re here.” She smiled and wiped away one last tear. “Is my face okay?”

  “Your face is great,” he said, smiling broadly.

  “You know what I mean. Did I smear my makeup?”

  “A tiny bit, right here.” Rick stroked his thumb under her left eye. “There, Killer Eyes. Now you’re perfect.”

  “Far from it,” Christy retorted.

  “For me, you’re perfect. Come on. I’ll walk you back, and you can introduce me to all the animals. Except your manager. I’ve already met him.”

  “Jon is nice,” Christy said defensively.

  “I’m sure he is. If you like the zookeeper type. You don’t, do you? I mean, he’s not asking you out or anything?”

  “Rick!” Christy playfully socked him in the arm as they entered the pet
store.

  “Just checking. Can’t say I was too worried about competing with Tarzan, though.”

  Jon more than likely overheard Rick’s last comment as they walked in because he gave Rick and Christy a scowl. Rick took off toward the back, where they kept the tropical fish. Christy stepped behind the counter, and Jon pointed at the clock on the wall behind him. “You left at five-thirty, Christy.”

  She looked up at the clock. It was now five minutes after six. “Is that clock right? I couldn’t have been gone that long! It seemed like only a few minutes. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Good. I’m taking your word on that. I’m late for an appointment. I won’t be back until seven-thirty. Beverly is in the back; she can help out if you get stuck on anything.”

  “Sure. Thanks. And again, I’m really sorry about losing track of the time.”

  Jon lifted a hand in a slight wave over his shoulder as he rushed off. Christy felt relieved that Jon had been so understanding. She promised herself she’d never let herself be late again. That would be so unfair, especially when Jon had let it go this time.

  A young boy with his mother passed Jon on his way out. They came right to the counter, and the boy said, “I want to buy a hedgehog, and it has to be a boy.”

  “We need some help,” the mother said sweetly.

  “Sure.” Christy pushed the buzzer, which she hoped would produce Beverly. “We’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Another boy now stood before her with a packaged aquarium filter in his hand. “Do you know if this comes with the charcoal, or do I have to buy that separately?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. Does it say on the package?”

  The boy scanned the package, and Christy rang the buzzer again. Down the aisle trotted Beverly. With her long black hair in a single braid down her back, and her wrists covered with beaded bracelets, Beverly looked like the kind of young woman who, if she had lived a hundred years ago, would have been a Pony Express rider.

  Christy explained what each customer wanted, and Beverly said, “I’ll take care of the register. You go on back and show them the hedgehogs. And no, the charcoal is separate. It’s at the end of the far right aisle.”

  “The hedgehogs are back here,” Christy said, trying to sound as if she knew what she was doing.

  Maybe I’ll be able to figure out which are the boys if I pick up a couple of them and check them out inconspicuously.

  “I want that one,” the boy said when they stopped in front of the cage with the African Pygmy hedgehogs.

  “Does he roll up into a ball? I only want the kind that can roll up into a ball and eats bugs. I’m gonna name him Sonic. He’d better be a boy.”

  Christy and the mother exchanged knowing glances, and Christy said, “My little brother is ten. He’s hedgehog crazy too.”

  She gingerly picked up the hedgehog, and its pointy spines pricked her hand. She tried to check the underside to see if it was a boy, but it instantly rolled up into a little ball. Putting the spiny creature down and pulling out another one, she tried to get it to open up so she could figure out if it was a boy or a girl.

  “You have to get it to relax,” Rick said, reaching for the hedgehog.

  Christy didn’t know how long he’d been standing there watching her.

  “You can tell by the location of the belly button,” Rick said as he soothingly coaxed it to open up. “The ones with the higher belly buttons are boys.”

  “You’re kidding,” Christy said. “I mean, yes. Right. Thanks.”

  “Yes, thank you,” the mother said, smiling at Rick.

  “You want this one,” Rick said.

  “Can you show us what we need to feed him, and how big of a tank we should buy?”

  “No problem.” Rick led the three of them around the store, collecting a tank and lid, food and water dishes, and wood shavings for bedding. “They like little tunnels to hide in. I think there’re some plastic ones over here.”

  Christy caught Rick’s proud glance as he pointed out the best kind of tunnels. He threw in a couple of pointers on feeding Sonic primarily cat food but throwing in an occasional mealworm or cricket as a tasty treat every now and then.

  With their arms loaded, the mom and her son laid out their extensive purchases on the counter. Beverly’s eyebrows arched slightly on her plain face, and she said, “I guess you figured out which one was a boy.”

  “I had a little help,” Christy explained, sneaking a wink at Rick, who had retreated to the bird food section only a few feet away. He puffed out his chest jokingly and winked back.

  Beverly returned to her inventory labeling in the back while Christy rang up the $205 hedgehog sale.

  The woman handed Christy her check. “Won’t my husband be surprised! I’m sure I’ll hear about when he was a kid, and they fished their pets right out of the creek for free.”

  Rick strutted his way to the counter when the mom and son left. “Bring on the next customer. They can’t resist, can they?”

  Before Christy had a chance to swat at him for his joking arrogance, a man came up and said, “Can you answer some questions about the rabbits?”

  “Sure,” Rick said. “Let me help you.” He followed the man back to the cages. Twenty minutes later, Christy rang up a $184 rabbit sale.

  “You’d better leave before Jon comes back,” Christy said, checking the clock and noticing it was nearly seven-thirty.

  “Why? I’m making money for the guy. He should put me on the payroll!” Rick grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll disappear. Actually, I ordered something, and I want to see if it’s ready. I’ll be back at nine o’clock to pick you up.”

  “I drove my car here,” Christy said.

  “You still need a bodyguard to walk you through the parking lot. I’ll see you at nine.” He waved and took off.

  Not a minute too soon. Jon came in from the opposite direction only a few seconds later. “How did it go? Any problems?”

  “No, not really,” Christy said as Jon reached around and did a subtotal check on the cash register.

  “This can’t be right. It says you did more than four hundred dollars in sales while I was gone. What did you sell?”

  “Just a hedgehog and a rabbit,” Christy said with a smile, “and all the accessories they needed plus a month’s food supply.”

  “Really?” Jon said. “How ’bout that. Guess I did the right thing hiring you. Keep up the good work!”

  “Come here, girlfriend,” Rick said in the mall parking lot after he had walked Christy to her car. “I’ve waited all week to give you this.”

  He opened his arms and wrapped Christy in a warm hug. “Sorry about getting mad earlier. It won’t be so bad spending a few Friday nights helping you sell out the store. And once you’re off restriction, we can still take in a late movie.”

  Christy pulled back from his soft voice in her ear and decided to let him have all the bad news at one time. “Rick, even after I’m off restriction, I still have to be home by ten o’clock. And I didn’t get a chance to talk to Jon about changing my hours. I’m also scheduled for eleven to six on Saturdays.”

  Rick released his hold and looked at her in disbelief. “You agreed to work Saturdays too? All day? What were you thinking, Christy?”

  “I needed the job. I told you that.”

  “Fine, fine!” Rick held up his hands as though he didn’t want to touch this topic any longer. “You go ahead and have your job and have your two weeks’ restriction. That should give you enough time to figure out where I fit in your life. I’ve waited too long for us to be together to end up jumping all these hurdles you keep putting in my way.”

  “Rick …” Christy began, trying to reason with him, but he’d already stalked off, leaving her alone by her car.

  She drove home, refusing to cry, and went right to bed. What a mess her life had turned into.

  The next morning she showed up at work at ten-thirty, hoping her early arrival would help make up for the exte
nded break the night before.

  “Good morning, Jon,” she said cheerfully. She had on some of the new clothes Marti had bought her—shorts and a flowered T-shirt. She had taken extra care with her hair and makeup, hoping Rick would come in to see her and that his anger would have evaporated.

  “Check out the delivery that came in this morning.” Jon motioned toward the back.

  Christy found a large wire cage on the floor in the back room holding three adorable cocker spaniel puppies. She unlatched the door and reached for the one with the caramel-colored fur. He eagerly tried to lick her face while his flying tail beat the air like a high-speed wire whisk.

  “You are the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen!” she said. “You look exactly like our old dog Taffy.”

  “You had a cocker?” Jon asked.

  “When I was a kid. She was the sweetest dog. She used to run between the cows’ legs when they were being milked. It’s a miracle she never got kicked.”

  “These three are all males. They have their papers, and they should sell pretty fast. Why don’t you get the front window ready for them?”

  Christy went to work preparing the front window case for the puppies and scooting them into the display one by one. They drew a crowd right away, and Christy’s favorite one sold before noon.

  “You take good care of this puppy, okay?” Christy said to the little girl squirming with glee as her dad attached the collar and leash. “I had a puppy just like this when I was your age.”

  “What did you name him?” the girl asked, with a grin that revealed a gap where her two front teeth had been.

  “Taffy, because our dog was this color too, and we thought she looked like taffy.”

  “Can we name our dog Taffy? Please, Daddy? Could we?”

  “Whatever you want, Rachel.” The dad smiled his approval. “He’s all yours now.”

  “Come here, Taffy.” She patted her open palms on her thighs. “Come here.”

  The cocker jumped up and licked her face before the dad tugged on the leash to get him down.

  “He likes me, Daddy!” she squealed. “Taffy likes me. Come on, Taffy.”

  They made a cute procession—the little girl running ahead, patting her legs, and calling out “Taffy” as the dog scampered toward her, pulling the dad with him.