"We accept your terms," Graham's father said, after the others had sat down. "As if we have a choice." Then he sat down, too. "The only question we have is, what's the Walnut Foundation?"
The Senior Partner smiled and said, "The Walnut Foundation is the brainstorm of Horatio's son, Sandy, who is as brilliant as his father. He's also the one who figured out the embezzlement payback plan. The Walnut Foundation will be a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping people who are too frazzled by modern life to find the balance they need between work and play. The wall will come down between Eclipse and Walnut Manor, and both mansions will be part of the campus. People will apply to come, free of charge, for a visit of anywhere from a week to a couple of months—however long it takes them to get detoxified from the rat race, reorganize their priorities, and feel ready to leave. They do have to leave. It's not any healthier to hide out permanently from life than it is to get mowed down by it. I've already submitted my application."
Graham's father snorted. "Some crazy kind of New Age business. You'll never make a go of it. There's no money in nonprofit businesses."
The Senior Partner looked disdainfully at him. "That's why they call them nonprofit. The Walnut Foundation isn't interested in making money. It's interested in helping people."
"Are you finished with us?" Graham's father asked. "Can we go now?"
"Not before you all sign some papers. Then you can go for good. Don't you want to know what's going to happen to your relatives who were inmates at Walnut Manor?"
"Oh, sure," Graham's father said. "What about them?"
"You'll be happy to know they've been examined by a team of doctors as to their mental and physical health, and the only one who could be considered to have any problems at all is Eddy. The others all fall well within the normal range on everything. Eddy's well physically, except for having no muscle tone from lying down for so long. Since he won't answer any questions, his mental state is hard to determine. But the Walnut Foundation will have doctors on its staff, specifically Dr. Waldemar, Dr. Malcolm, and Dr. Trinidad; and they'll see that he gets the best of care. Nice of you to be concerned."
"So everybody but Eddy will be coming home?" Virgil and Lyle's sister asked, aghast.
"Why would they want to do that?" the Senior Partner asked. "They're all going to stay on as staff at the Walnut Foundation. I expect they'll be drawing up new wills, too, now that they're of sound mind and body, leaving some of their relatives out."
There was a collective horrified intake of breath from the board of directors as the implications of that statement became clear to them.
"Where are the papers we have to sign?" Graham's father asked. "Let's get it over with."
Dr. Waldemar hurried across the brand-new parquet floor of Walnut Manor to answer the brand-new front-door bell. He would rather have been napping under an umbrella out by the pool, but there was too much going on today.
Standing on the brand-new front porch was Sid Skeet in his yellow suit and pointed shoes to match. With him was a young couple, the man well dressed and pleasant looking, the woman pretty and pregnant.
"Hi, Sid," Dr. Waldemar said. "What can I do for you?"
"Hi, Doc," Sid Skeet said. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Blandings. They're thinking of buying that Federated Conglomerates property on the other side of Walnut Manor that's been for sale so long. But they'd heard some ... interesting things about Walnut Manor, so they wanted to take a look before they decide for sure. I promised them there's nothing to worry about, but they wanted to see for themselves." He tapped the lapel of Dr. Waldemar's tuxedo. "Kind of dressed up, aren't you?"
"We've got a wedding starting in a few minutes in the garden. Why don't you come out there with me? After the ceremony I'll show you around."
Sid Skeet and the Blandingses followed Dr. Waldemar through the sparkling downstairs of Walnut Manor, all freshly painted, with brass and glass newly polished. The dining room was set up for a buffet supper, dazzling with bright silver platters, tall arrangements of flowers, and zillions of white candles in crystal candelabras.
They went out through the dining-room doors into the garden, where wild roses climbed over an arbor, beneath which stood a clergyman in a long black robe and a white collar. Horatio sat in a gilded chair playing "Pennies from Heaven," Mr. Moreland's favorite song, on his guitar. Mousey accompanied him on her white piano, her filmy skirts spread out on the piano bench. Mr. Moreland, looking solemn and nervous and handsome in his black tuxedo and white beard, stood next to the clergyman. Lined up beside him, also dressed in tuxedos, were Captain Lester, Graham, Everett, Lyle and Virgil, Boom-Boom, Sandy, Bentley, Dr. Malcolm, and, propped up in an armchair looking like a doll with no stuffing, Eddy.
On the other side of the clergyman were Sunnie, Dr. Trinidad, and Flossie, all dressed in the same style of floaty gown Mousey was wearing, but each of a different pastel shade. They held old-fashioned bouquets of pink rosebuds and baby's breath, and all three had tears in their eyes. Louie and Attila, white bows around their necks, sat at the bridesmaids' feet, still and serious, as if they understood the importance of what was going on. Attila's feathers had finally grown back in, whiter and thicker than ever before.
Horatio and Mousey began Handel's "Wedding March," and out of the dining room doors came Opal. At least everyone assumed it was Opal. She looked a little bit like Opal. Her hair was curled, she had lipstick on, and white high-top basketball shoes with pearl trimmings. There were flowers in her curled hair and a sheaf of white roses in her arms, and her wedding dress was an intriguing Combination of lace and sweatshirt fleece. There was no sign at all that she was chewing gum.
She winked at Dr. Waldemar and Sid Skeet, and the Blandingses, too, as she walked toward the arbor. Mr. Moreland, transfixed, watched her approach and began to smile. By the time she reached him and he took her hand, his smile stretched all the way across his face. Opal gave him a large self-possessed grin and lowered her eyes modestly to her roses.
Horatio and Mousey left their instruments and went to stand on either side of the arbor. Dr. Waldemar hurried to take his place, too.
The clergyman's stately and awesome words about sickness and health, richer and poorer, parting by death—which had special meaning for all those who had lived through the last year at Walnut Manor—twined around them the way the Christmas bubbles had, filling them with hope and wonder and love.
Captain Lester handed over Opal's ring, studded with large and glittering opals and diamonds, and Sunnie, diamond-bright tears on her smooth cheeks, handed over Mr. Moreland's. Then Mr. Moreland kissed Opal, a long and robust kiss, and the wedding was over. Opal the custodian and nurse had become Mrs. Whitney Hamilton Atherton Moreland III, wife of one of the richest men in the country, and she had gotten there merely by being her own crusty, stubborn, hardworking self.
In fact it was only that morning they had learned that Mr. Moreland was now considered one of the top
ten
richest men in the country. That was probably due to the fact that, for a wedding present, Captain Lester had paid him back all the money he owed him from their years of card games in the library at Walnut Manor. Captain Lester, who had made heaps of money from selling the manufacturing rights to his Investment game, was also in the top ten and hardly missed the amount he paid Mr. Moreland.
Mousey wiped her own tears on the hem of her floating gown and returned to her piano, where she struck up a lively recessional tune for the wedding party to hug each other to.
Mrs. Blandings dried the tears she found on her cheeks and said to her husband, "I've never been to a wedding where there were no guests and so many attendants."
"We were the guests, dear," he told her. "And I consider it an honor."
"Good thing we arrived when we did," Sid Skeet said. "It's a favorable omen, don't you think, for you to be the only guests at your new neighbors' wedding?"
Sid introduced everyone to the Blandingses as they filed into the dining room to begin the feasting. The Blandingses earned points with their neighbors-to-be by not commenting as Graham carried Eddy, in his armchair, into the dining room. And by agreeing with Everett, who shook their hands and said, "'Take away love and our earth is a tomb.' Robert Browning. 1812 to 1889."
When the introductions had been made, Sid Skeet went over to the bride. "Hi, Opal. Or should I call you Mrs. Moreland?" he asked. "I must say, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard you were getting married. And to one of the inmates, too. Well, blow me down."
"I gather you got the rest of the story, too, Skeet," Opal said in her old familiar growl. "That there's nothing wrong with the inmates anymore—except for Eddy, of course—and that we're all working together now. So I'd appreciate it if you'd knock off your tired jokes about nuts and goofballs and wackos."
"Sure, sure," Sid said. "It's just still a little hard for me to believe. And all that stuff about the attempted murders. Are you
sure
that those things really happened?"
"Why don't you go visit Bart and Bernie in the slammer and ask them if it really happened? A jury found them guilty on every count. Of course they complained that it wasn't a jury of their peers."
Boom-Boom had come up beside them and was eavesdropping. At the mention of the trial, he couldn't restrain himself. "Oh, you should have seen them during the trial," he said. "We all went every day, after we finished testifying, just for the fun of watching them squirm and lie and try to weasel their way out of getting what they deserved. And when the verdicts came in, oh, it was wonderful!"
Everett, who had joined them, said, "'Where law ends, tyranny begins.' William Pitt the Elder. 1708 to 1778."
"Well, there won't be any more tyranny from Bart and Bernie," Boom-Boom said. "The law took care of them. It makes me smile every time I think of them being hauled away in their jail overalls and chains, yelling about how they'd been framed and how it wasn't fair that they couldn't have Horatio's money after they'd tried so hard to get it and how they'd be good forever if Horatio would just pay them to be."
"It's not polite to gloat so much," Sunnie said, handing a glass of champagne to Boom-Boom. "And remember how sad it makes Horatio to know how eager his own brothers were to do him harm."
"Well, it makes me pretty sad to know what my own mother wanted to do to me, too," Boom-Boom said.
"I know it does," Sunnie said. "But we should all be glad about our new lives."
"I am. But how come you don't look glad?" Boom-Boom asked her.
Tears welled in Sunnie's eyes. "Weddings always make me cry. Not because I'm sad, though. These are tears of happiness." The aforementioned tears began to slide down Sunnie's cheeks, and Boom-Boom was absolutely right: She didn't look glad at all, no matter what she said. She gave a shuddering little sob and pressed her handkerchief to her face. "Excuse me," she said, weeping. "I think I'll go upstairs for a while." And she ran out into the hall and up the wide front stairs.
Dr. Waldemar looked after her with concern as he led the Blandingses and Sid Skeet into the library to show them the list of classes that would be offered to the Walnut Foundation's first crop of frazzled escapees from the rat race. Those people would be arriving as soon as Mr. Moreland and Opal returned from their wedding trip to Switzerland. There are more banks per square foot in Switzerland than any place else in the world, and Mr. Moreland wanted to see them all. Opal was looking forward to two weeks of room service.
"The people you'll be seeing here at Walnut Manor," Dr. Waldemar said, "will look tired and distressed when they first arrive, but they should have the spring back in their steps, and the sparkle back in their eyes, when they leave. Each of us here on the staff has to leave periodically, too, so we can experience the outer world. Too much isolation makes us narrow and intolerant. In fact, Mousey Huntington-Ackerman will be leaving tomorrow to begin rehearsals as the star in a new stage play in the city. The director thinks she has the most beautiful voice he's ever heard. And Horatio and Sandy have just come back from conducting a financial seminar, where they were introduced as the most brilliant and financially creative father-and-son team in history. And Graham's been gone all summer to school in the city. We missed him a lot. We like it best when we can all be together, but we're learning that we can take one another with us in our hearts when we're away. Ah, here's the class list. If there's anything you'd like to sign up for, let us know. I'm sure we could fit you in."
On the wall beside the fireplace was a sign-up sheet for classes for the coming guests. Sunnie had planned them, since she had more ideas than anyone else did.
Mr. Blandings leaned forward and read:
"
Hello, Dali:
Introduction to Modern Art Appreciation
Everything You've Ever Wanted to Know about Sects:
Introduction to Comparative Religions
Seoul Food:
Introduction to Oriental Cooking
Feats of Clay:
Introduction to Ceramics
Someday My Prints Will Come:
Introduction to Photography
Some Like It Haute:
Introduction to Fashion Design
Bag of Treks:
Introduction to Travel Planning
First Come, First Serve:
Tennis Lessons
Topographical Errors:
Introduction to Geology"
"My goodness," Mrs. Blandings said, "they all sound just fascinating, though in my present condition," she patted her round tummy, "I think I'll have to pass up the tennis lessons."
"This is just the beginning," Dr. Waldemar said. "There'll be lots of other things going on, too. Virgil and Lyle are starting driving lessons, and Flossie's into gardening, and Bentley's the chemistry expert. You wouldn't know anyone in the market for an elixir that gives hiccups to chickens, would you?"