He had received several white feathers when out and about, quite undeservedly. A popular symbol of shame in Britain, the practice had gained a steady and unfortunate foothold on this side of the pond as well. Well-meaning women handed them out to seemingly able-bodied men of drafting age, making the assumption that they had somehow wiled their way out of military service.

And yet, despite what the doctors said, George had the strongest heart of anyone Margaret knew, metaphorically speaking. (That was a Word of the Day in September, but one that she already knew.) Upon his rejection from the army, he had immediately applied for work in the Navy Yard. George had little need for money—his family owned one of the country’s largest appliance companies, and John had affectionately dubbed him the Refrigerator King. But his zeal for helping with the war effort led him to the modest work here in Brooklyn that fulfilled him more than selling state-of-the-art machines that could wash your dishes to Upper East Side matrons.

His college degree had quickly catapulted him to the position of foreman of the engraving section.

Margaret bit her tongue and held back an admonishment. She was worried that he would collapse one day if he didn’t take things easier, but she knew it was hopeless to ask him to do anything halfway.

She’d always thought he would have been an ideal match for Dottie if John had not already won her heart.

“I have good news for you,” George said, his voice steadying. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. Your promotions came through and I’m happy to announce that you both can start in the engraving section, second shift, as soon as next week.”

Margaret’s cold cheeks warmed at the news. She and Dottie exchanged looks, and it was the first smile she’d seen on Dottie’s face all day.

“So soon?” she asked. “Who did you have to pay off to make that happen?”

George laughed. “You think too little of yourself, Margaret. I’ve seen the work that you and Dottie do. And I’ve known you both since John and I met at Scouts. Now, I know that it’s not in the mechanic’s section like you’d hoped for, but I promise that it is an advancement, with an extra dollar per week. If you prove yourself there, you’ll be a shoo-in when something even higher up becomes available.”

“Shoes are something I know well,” Margaret joked.

Dottie rolled her eyes and exchanged a bemused glance with George. “The early shift turns her into a cornball.”

“My brother’s not here with his usual levity, so I consider it my duty to step in.”

“He has more years of practice,” George added, though she could tell he appreciated the attempt.