The Madam of Maple Court. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

      “I’m home,” Vin DePalma called to his wife. He dropped his briefcase on the table at the entrance to their small living room. Pam made her way to his side, her eyes still red from crying. “Babe, what’s the matter?” Vin said, taking her in his arms.

      “I got my period today.” You’d think after all these years she’d be used to it, but it always disappointed her deeply. The doctors said there was always hope, but she thought they probably said that to every couple.

      Vin’s face fell, then brightened. “I’m sorry, babe, but it’s okay. Maybe next month.”

      Maybe next month, maybe next month. How long had they been saying that? It just wasn’t going to happen, doctors or no doctors, and it was her fault. Vin had tested fine.

      “It will happen, so cheer up,” Vin said, setting her away from him. “Anyway, I’ve got great news.”

      She took a deep, cleansing breath, then stood on tiptoe and bussed her husband’s cheek. As short as she was, she always seemed to be standing on her toes. She forced her face into a smile. “That’s wonderful. I need some good news. Tell me.”

      He took her hand and guided her to the sofa where they settled side by side. “I ran into Jake Preston at lunch. You remember him, the art director at H&R? Well, he heard that the promotion is a done deal.” Vin had been up for partner at Haskell & Roth for almost six months but they’d been delaying any announcement for one reason after another. Pam had her doubts that it would ever happen. She knew the partners from business lunches and office parties. They were powerful, wealthy men, and she wondered whether they’d ever be willing to turn part of the profits over to a new partner. She suspected that men like that didn’t like to share.

      Everyone knew that Vin was landing and servicing more and larger accounts than the firm had ever had, and his annual bonuses had showed it. He earned enough that he insisted that Pam never work, but he wanted more. Always more. Always a bigger stack. This year his bonus hadn’t been what he’d expected, but he’d assumed that the partnership deal would make up for the shortfall.

      “That’s fabulous,” Pam said and, as they settled on the sofa, she kissed him again, this time with obvious enthusiasm. Why trouble him with her concerns when he obviously didn’t want to hear them? “Did Jake have any idea when an announcement might happen?”

      Vin draped his arm around his wife’s shoulder in a familiar gesture. Since he was over six foot one, he towered over her and liked to cuddle her against him. Not yet thirty, he had straight, dark brown hair, deep-set eyes that were almost black, and a swarthy complexion that heightened his slightly foreign attractiveness.

      He nuzzled the top of her hair. “I keep hoping it will be soon. There’s a partners’ meeting at the end of next week and I have a feeling that they’ll approve my appointment then and announce it immediately afterward.”

      “What if they don’t?” she said quietly.

      “They will, but just in case, I’ve been quietly sounding out a few of my big accounts and they’ve hinted that they’d go with me if I went out on my own.”

      Out on his own? Open his own firm? She knew that several small advertising firms had gone under in the last year. The future of start-ups wasn’t guaranteed by any means. Hadn’t the dot-com bubble taught anyone anything? “That’s a big step, Vin.”

      “I know, but I won’t have to do that anyway. My partnership is in the bag.”

      “Oh, honey, I hope you don’t get your hopes up,” Pam said, resting her head of brown curls against her husband’s biceps. She had been pretty in college, when she and Vin first met, all soft curves and deep hazel eyes, a girl that men wanted to cosset and protect. Vin, a bench warmer on the basketball team, had sat behind her in a history class and they’d begun dating. They’d married while in their senior year.

      When they’d graduated he’d gone to work for H&R and she’d stayed at home, in their cozy little apartment in White Plains, hoping to get pregnant quickly and start the family they both wanted so much. In the meantime, however, she’d been bored. When she suggested that she could get a job, however, he’d been adamant. “Not a chance. Enjoy your leisure time now because after the baby comes there will be little enough of it. I make enough so you can play bridge every afternoon if you like, so take advantage.”

      When nothing happened after a year of trying to get pregnant, they’d both been tested. The fertility specialist had talked to Vin, then suggested several regimens, and over the ensuing few years they’d tried them all. To no avail. When she’d finally brought up adoption he’d been adamant. “If I’m going to raise a kid and give him my name I want him to be my blood, and my legacy.” Finally she’d become content to be part of the country club set. She often gazed at the women around her, all busy with their children, many saying how they’d like to be her, free from the responsibilities of raising “the little brats,” but saying it with such love that she’d often had to fight back tears. Vin seldom said much, but when he was frustrated or annoyed he brought up the lack of children and, although it was unstated, she was sure he blamed her.

      Now he cuddled her closer. “I won’t count my chickens,” he said with a long sigh, “but I know how much they need me and how many accounts might follow me, so they can’t risk my going elsewhere or opening my own shop. It’s just that the waiting gets so frustrating.”

      “I know,” she said, turning her face to kiss the hand that rested on her shoulder. “But you make a good salary and you’re well respected within the agency and the advertising community as a whole. You won that award just last year, so partnership is really only a title.”

      His body stiffened. “Awards are one thing, but this is different. Partnership means my name on the letterhead and a piece of the action. I want that.” His voice rose. “I’ve had enough of salaries and skimpy bonuses. I want an equity share in the business.” He stared off into space. “I’d be the youngest partner H&R ever had.”

      She slid her arm behind him and hugged. It was the only thing she could do. “There’s lots of time.”

      Another long sigh shook his body. “I know. It’s just that I work my butt off and I want recognition, both the applause and the big bucks.” Mostly, she thought, the big bucks. That was the way he measured his success, as, she guessed, most men did.

      “I know, darling, and I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.” She took a breath. “Did you look at any more houses today?” She knew the change of subject might lift his spirits. They’d been searching for a house to buy for almost a year. At first, whenever the real estate lady called, Pam had accompanied her husband to open house after open house. After the twentieth perfectly acceptable one he rejected for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she decided to let him to weed out the chaff, then visit only those that made the final cut.

      He brightened immediately. “Actually, I think I’ve found a solution to the whole house problem.”

      She sat up and turned to face him, a wide smile on her face. “Tell me,” she said.

      “Well, you know that piece of land down by the stream off Maple Row?”

      “The one that the builder’s had so much trouble getting the town to approve because of the marshy areas along the waterway?”

      “Yeah. I’ve been exchanging e-mails with the guy and he thinks he’s found a way to create oddly shaped parcels that the town might just go along with. He says we can get in on the ground floor and he’ll build to suit.”

      “I thought we’d decided that building a house would be too expensive.”

      “It’s more