"What on earth is wrong with everything right now?" Maude howled, standing wretchedly cold and drenched in the doorway of the Poppycock Enterprises offices, at noon on what had, very recently, looked like a very sunny and temperate day. Mr. Periwinkle, and the Professors De Busque and P'ohlig simultaneously lurched out of their respective chairs and chaise lounges to find poor Maude a towel. But Mr. Periwinkle was heading for the Trollope to open the secret door, putting him at direct cross purposes with Emily, who was heading for the drinks cabinet and a small tea towel but distracted by a smarting tooth, and they both collided with Molly, who was really only getting up because everyone else was and she didn't want to be accused of being lazy. They fell in a tangle of arms and legs, and to top it all off, the cat, Agatha, was so startled from her perch that she upset it, and that's when the sculpture of the Rodin dancer clonked Molly on the head. Somewhere amid the general kerfuffle, the decision was heartily agreed upon to close for the day.
* * *
"Dreadful, my dears, just really really dreadful," Alexx tut-tutted, once again having come to save the day. And she had quite a busy one indeed, calming Maude's hysterics by tucking her back into bed, cajoling Agatha down from a tree, sending Mr. Periwinkle to man the office with just enough brandy to be helpful, but not enough to disappear. She doctored Molly's art-inflicted wounds, leaving her with just a little bit of very attractive bruising on her cheekbone. She found both hot and cold compresses for Emily's aching tooth. "But really, what can have gotten everyone in such a state? I know the weather's been awful, but really, it was like happening upon the Dyatlov Pass!"
"We're just out of sorts, Alexx, and we can't seem to get ourselves round right again." Molly glumly scratched a bit of stray gold leaf off of the leather-bound spine of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking", bequeathed to them by the Julia Child Society. This of course caused the cover to pop off. Molly thunked her head onto the kitchen table, precisely on the spot the Rodin had found earlier, and let out a mighty groan.
"And have you seen the shortlist? I mean, have you seen it?" Emily's voice came out high and muffled and anguished. No one said anything. They had all seen it. The shortlist for the Man Booker had been announced, and not one book they had worked on had made the cut. There was a pseudo-autobiography written by a chimpanzee, if that makes it clear how horrible the list was. "And look!" she shrieked, holding up something small and white, "As if that weren't all bad enough, my teeth are apparently jumping ship as well!"
"And Mr. Denning too!" Molly set in with a wail, for it was just that very morning that their trusted financial advisor, much beloved by Molly in particular, had sent a curt note tendering his resignation. And with their problems finally out, Emily joined Molly in a harmony of tears, and after a few minutes, Alexx, who the night before had had a rather unsatisfying day of work in the garden she attended, decided she would just join in as well. Before long, Maude had shuffled down from her room, not wanting to be alone, and much in need of a good community cry. So naturally no one was surprised when Mr. Periwinkle appeared, tiny tears in his eyes, and silently handed out the good teacups, which were then filled to the brim with strong spirits. No, not Maude's. But everyone else's.
* * *
The rest of the day passed as might be expected. There was much moping and sarcasm and self-effacement. In fact, it wasn't really such a very bad afternoon. Everyone put their pajamas back on (even Mr. Periwinkle, who kept a spare set in the closet in case of inclement weather) and they watched "Wuthering Heights". But although they tried valiantly to lift their moods, it must be said that they did not try very hard. Emily had to tip her head to one side to eat the scones they had for tea. Molly's heart ached so. Alexx had the gloomy feeling that her gloomy boss was affecting her mood. Maude had caught a chill from the sudden rainshower. And Mr. Periwinkle was drunk.
"I just....I just feel that we've lost something somewhere along the way, and I don't know when and I don't know how and I don't even know what!" Molly sighed from the leather armchair, crinkly with age, stroking the stain from the time one of Oscar Wilde's boyfriends spilled a sufficiency of wine on it.
"I know what," Emily countered gloomily from Ernest Hemingway's rocking chair. "We've lost Mr. Denning and my teeth." Molly threw her lap blanket over her head and commenced whimpering. Even Agatha was down-trodden.
"But what are we to do?" Maude said, angrily thrusting a small shoulder against a rickety bookshelf. One solitary book seemed to leap off of the shelf and land with a splat, open to what seemed like a very specific page. For the first time that drear day, the inhabitants of Poppycock Manor eyed each other with a mild sense of curiosity. Maude picked it up and read aloud: ' "Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die." '
There was a silence as realization slowly dawned on everyone in the room. Even Agatha perked up her fluffy tail and rubbed her nose against Emily's foot. The reason everyone was so overwhelmed by their troubles just presently was because they were trying to solve them all alone. It was no good trying to pull yourself up by your bootstraps if your heart just wasn't in it. Someone else would have to pull on those bootstraps for you, and that, in turn, might help you to pull on theirs.
* * *
That evening was, as so often was the way at Poppycock, much more productive than the morning had been. Everyone changed out of their pajamas and into smart office clothes, and reconvened for a candlelit dinner/planning session in the basement where the Round Table was kept. Yes, it was that Round Table, and it was only used for very important occasions, of which tonight was one. Everyone drew a name out of the hat. Emily was going to begin a stealth campaign to 'accidentally' run into Mr. Denning and tell him lots of stories about how exceedingly happy and marvelous Molly was, thereby making him realize how much he was missing by removing himself from their lives. Molly was to give the gentle Alexx lessons in aggression, and make her boss realize that she was a gardener to be reckoned with. Alexx would take Maude and her delicate constitution for daily strengthening walks. Maude would launch a mission to keep an eye on the levels in Mr. Periwinkle's port glasses. Mr. Periwinkle, man of many talents that he was, was going to take a correspondence course in dentistry, thereby saving Emily the cost and unfriendliness of a strange dentist.
As they finished their meal and their meeting, the five around the table, with Agatha in the center, although sorry they had been struggling, were eternally grateful that they had each other, and knew that as long as they remembered that, Poppycock Enterprises would continue to flourish, and yes, next year conquer the entire shortlist.
