The dress store was small, just the owner and one salesgirl. Stephen and I were walking along Bathurst Street when I saw a dress I liked in the window, and although I knew we couldn’t afford it, I wanted at least to wear it for a moment. We stepped in. I tried on the dress, loved it, and while I was changing back into my own clothes, Stephen bought it for me as a surprise. When I came out, Mrs. Kopalski, who owned the store, was wrapping it up and Stephen was looking pleased, and we ended up telling her we were just married and I was looking for a job, but so far we were still on our honeymoon and I hadn’t found anything yet. She asked me a few questions, then said her salesgirl was leaving Friday and if I wanted I could start Monday. I was to go in Friday and watch and learn to use the cash register.

I rebelled, for a moment, at having duty thrust on me so abruptly, but there was no question of refusing. Three days later I was watching Mrs. Kopalski and her salesgirl, listening to them tell customers “It’s you,” and swearing I would never say it. And on the Monday I was there and saying it and ringing up sales, and Mrs. Kopalski told me I was going to be fine, dear.