Sample Chapter: A Promotion 

Abiel barged through the door and startled Margaret. The look on his face was one of worry, even though he lousily tried to hide it. He removed his overcoat and handed it to Margaret for her to hang as he kissed her on the forehead. 

“Honey, I’ve missed you,” he muttered. 

“I’ve missed you too,” Margaret managed, releasing a mix of a laugh and a sigh. “What’s going on, dear?”

“Well, I have some news,” Abiel said. 

After a quick embrace, the pair seated themselves at opposite ends of the dining room table, which was set for dinner, but was missing only the food that was still warming on the stove. 

Margaret stared, knowing deep down in her gut that she wasn’t about to like this news of Abiel’s. It must have to do with what Rowland had been whispering about in his office earlier that week. Something seemed amiss. Maybe Rowland wanted to part ways with Abiel. She knew he wasn’t the best businessman but he had a formidable work ethic and he was family after all. 

Rowland couldn’t have terminated her dear Abiel, could he? 

“I had a talk with Rowland this evening,” Abiel started. 

“Oh no,” said Margaret. 

Abiel was uncertain of the meaning behind Margaret’s remark but he forged ahead. 

“He’s making me a partner.” 

Margaret gasped. Then...silence. She was frozen. Paralyzed might be a better description. 

“I’ll be one of three partners,” he continued. 

“Am ... I one of the partners?” Margaret asked, shakily, but hopeful. 

“I’m afraid not,” Abiel managed. He took Margaret’s hand. She pulled back. Her body involuntarily retreated from her own husband. Of course he was only the messenger, but the betrayal stung. She winced as she reflected back on all of the work and time and sweat she’d poured into Macy’s. How could Rowland overlook her dedication? 

Perhaps she’d been a fool to think Rowland would share any of the credit with her. Rage rushed through every limb of her body. She felt tempted to throw all of the dishes from the table. Break every last one of them. The dishes she’d personally selected, with patterns sure to sell more than those atrocious daisies would. The lilacs were more sophisticated, she’d insisted when Rowland suggested the alternative design. 

Margaret wanted to scream. How could Rowland do this to her? She’d given her entire life to him and that store and this is how he repaid her. 

“There’s more,” Abiel said, inhaling deeply. 

“I don’t wish to stomach more,” Margaret sulked. “Perhaps it could wait until morning. I have very much to consider.”

Abiel wanted to respect his wife’s wishes but he knew waiting wouldn’t resolve any matter. 

“Margaret, this wasn’t my idea. I told Rowland it isn’t proper.”

“What isn’t proper?” Margaret asked, her face crinkled. 

“Your wages,” he said. 

“What about my wages?” Margaret snapped, carefully pronouncing each word. 

“Well, your wages will be combined with my earnings,” Abiel said. 

Margaret’s brow furrowed as if she didn’t follow, or maybe she did follow but needed him to spell it out. 

“Now that I’m a partner, our wages will be combined,” he tried again. 

“They’re not going to pay me anymore?” Margaret asked, almost daring Abiel to confirm what she already knew. 

Abiel looked her in the eye. “Yes, that’s one way of looking at it, darling. The way Rowland explained it is that our wages from the partnership are going into one pot of money. It’s all going to the same place, Margie. It’s for us. For our family. Our dear family,” he said, trying to take a hold of her hand and subtly touching her ring finger where a row of diamonds sat. 

Margaret couldn’t even look at Abiel. 

“I know this must be disappointing,” he said. 

“Disappointing,” Margaret repeated back like a parrot. 

“Yes, it is disappointing that the store will no longer pay me wages for my work. The store that made a measly $11 on its first day of business. The store that I transformed into a million dollar business many times over. If it weren’t for my ideas, that store wouldn’t have a fraction of the customers as it does.”

“I know,” Abiel said, knowing full well she was right. His eyes looked ashamed and glistened as if he could cry on his wife’s behalf. He’d been given a gift—a promotion—but it belonged to his wife. He knew it. She knew it. Rowland knew it. 

What a tragedy, they both thought. 

Then, after a long painful moment of silence, Margaret stood upright and walked toward the kitchen. She grabbed her favorite crystal decanter filled with sherry, before exclaiming, “Let’s celebrate.”