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Jesse didn't argue with that, and the girl stopped coming around. Or at least she was out of sight when Maggie returned from work each day. Though Maggie had a feeling; she picked up certain clues. She noticed that Jesse was gone more than ever, that he returned abstracted, that his brief spells at home were marked by long private conversations on the upstairs telephone and it was always the same girl's voice-soft and questioning-when Maggie happened to lift the receiver.

He found a job in an envelope factory, finally, something to do with shipping, and started looking for an apartment. The only trouble was, the rents were so high and his paycheck was so puny. Good, Ira said. Now maybe he would have to face a few hard facts. Maggie wished Ira would just shut up. "Don't worry," she told Jesse. "Something will come along." That was toward the end of June. In July he was still living at home. And one Wednesday evening in August, he caught Maggie alone in the kitchen and informed her, very calmly and directly, that he seemed to have got this girl he knew in trouble.

The air in the room grew oddly still. Maggie wiped her hands on her apron.

She said, "Is it that Fiona person?" He nodded.

"So now what?" Maggie asked. She was as cool as he was; she surprised herself. This seemed to be happening to someone else. Or maybe she had expected it without knowing. Maybe it was something that had been heading their way all along, like a glacier bearing down on them.

"Well," Jesse said, "that's what I needed to discuss with you. I mean, what I want and what she wants are two different things." "What is it you want?" Maggie asked, thinking she knew.

"I want her to keep the baby." For a moment, that didn't register. Even the word itself-"baby"-seemed incongruous on Jesse's lips. It seemed almost, in an awful way, cute.

She said, "Keep it?" "I thought I'd start hunting an apartment for the three of us." "You mean get married?" "Right." "But you're not even eighteen years old," Maggie said. "And I bet the girl isn't, either. You're too young." "My birthday's in two weeks, Ma, and Fiona's is not long after. And she doesn't like school anyway; half the time she skips class and hangs out with me instead. Besides, I've always looked forward to having a kid. It's exactly what I've been needing: something of my own." "Something of your own?" "I'll just have to find a better-paying job, is all." "Jesse, you've got a whole family of your own! What are you talking about?" "But it's not the same," Jesse said. "I've just never felt ... I don't know. So anyhow, I've been looking for a job that pays more money. See, a baby takes a lot of equipment and such. I've written down a list from Dr. Spock." Maggie stared at him. The only question she could come up with was: "Where on earth did you get hold of a Dr. Spock?" "At the bookstore; where else?" "You went into a bookstore and bought a baby-care book?" "Sure." That seemed the biggest surprise of all. She couldn't picture it.

"I've learned a lot," he told her. "I think Fiona ought ta breast-feed." "Jesse-" "I found these plans in Home Hobby Journal for building a cradle." "Honey, you don't know how hard it is. You're children yourselves! You can't take on a baby." "I'm asking you, Ma. I'm serious," Jesse said. And he did have that sharply etched look to his lips that he always got when he felt strongly about something.

"But just what are you asking me?" Maggie said.

"I want you to go and talk to Fiona." "What? Talk about what?" "Tell her you think she should keep it." "You mean she wants to put it up for adoption," Maggie said. "Or else . . . um . . . stop the pregnancy." "Well, that's what she says, but-" "Which?" Maggie asked.

"The second thing." "Ah." "But she doesn't really want that. I know she doesn't," he said. "It's just that she's so stubborn. She expects the worst of me, seems like. She takes it for granted I'm going to, like, ditch her or something. Well, first off, she didn't