Bitter Business

together, if not for his sake, then for their children’s. He spoke of Dagny’s love of the company and her dedication over the years, and told them that Superior Plating’s continued success would be the most fitting of memorials.
    As he spoke I watched the faces of his family. Eugene fiddled with his collar like a little boy being forced to sit quietly in church. Philip’s face was impassive, a mask of attention hiding endless calculation. Beside him on the couch sat his wife, Sally, her knitting needles clicking out her wordless disapproval.
    Lydia, the red lipstick of her mouth set in an expression of discontent, did not even bother to feign interest. Instead, she rearranged her hair in the reflection of the polished brass of a nearby lamp or methodically lined up the bracelets on her wrists. Of all of them, Arthur Wallace was the only one who listened. He sat motionless at his wife’s side, hands clasped on his lap, his eyes never leaving his father-in-law’s face.
    How many years, how many wrong turns had it taken to bring a family to this? I wondered, wishing, not for the first time, that Daniel Babbage were here.
    Jack Cavanaugh finished and pulled a sheet of white paper out of his pocket. The rattle of the paper seemed unnaturally loud. He cleared his throat to begin what I assumed was the formal portion of the meeting.
    “Dagny’s loss has left us with a serious gap in the management of the company. As chairman of the board and CEO, I have made some decisions that I feel will not only help fill the vacuum but will also equalize responsibility across the management team so that we can move the company forward confidently for the next generation.” Sally paused in her knitting. In the strained anticipation in the room, it seemed almost difficult to breathe.
    “First,” Jack Cavanaugh continued, “Lydia will be appointed to the newly created post of director of communications, accompanied by an increase in salary. At the same time Eugene will be promoted to the position of vice-president in charge of operations with responsibility for purchasing, procurement, and procedures. My son-in-law, Arthur Wallace, will assume the position of acting chief financial officer.”
    By the time he got to Arthur Wallace, all the color had drained out of Philip’s face. He stared at his father with a look of undisguised disbelief. However, the same shock that had paralyzed Philip propelled his wife, Sally, to her feet.
    “How can you do this?” she demanded. Her voice was loud and shrill. “When you told us you were going to have a family meeting, we all assumed you were finally going to step down and turn the company over to Philip like you’ve been promising all these years. Now you’re telling us that you’re going to just lay more burdens onto his shoulders and load up the payroll with more dead wood. He’s worked sixteen hours a day for twenty years for half of what he’d earn at any other company, and this is what he gets? You talk about family unity, but what you really want is for Philip to kill himself so that everyone else can have a free ride. You expect everyone to lie down while you walk all over them!”
    “Sally, please,” implored Peaches.
    “You stay out of this!” Philip snapped savagely to his stepmother. “This is none of your business.”
    “What else are you going to let Lydia get away with?” Sally demanded. “What about next time? A year from now, when Princess Lydia decides she wants to sell her precious shares again, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell Philip he has to step down so that Arthur can be president of the company?”
    “I just can’t believe that you’d do all this without consulting me!” Lydia shouted, clearly unwilling to see the spotlight fall on her sister-in-law. The role of family bad girl was clearly hers and she set out to reclaim it. “This is exactly why I want my money out of this stupid company. You think that you can treat me like a child for the rest of my life, Daddy. But you’re wrong. You can’t just make these edicts about what we’re going to do. Arthur has his career, his clients. You can’t expect him to drop everything and come to work for you just because you snap your fingers.”
    Jack Cavanaugh’s features turned to granite as he watched the family meeting disintegrate into a shouting match, with each child clamoring to have his or her own point of view heard, but none seemingly willing to listen. Looking back, I