The unusual thing about Mrs. Pig, her sons found, was that she had no problem connecting with the raccoons, Sophia, Schaeffer, and generally the other members of the forest that they didn't get along with. She went out during the day when the pigs were working, having lunch at the Blue Spruce Café and spending time chatting with the animals that made the boss's life, and by extension theirs, so difficult. While they would find going for a nature walk with Bert Raccoon to be a terrible punishment, Mrs. Pig looked forward to it and afterwards had nothing but nice things to say about the wonderful neighbors her boys were so lucky to have in the Evergreen Forest.
In short, there was a line in the forest between Cyril and his employees, and the raccoons and their friends, and Mrs. Pig was not only unafraid to cross it, but was able to do so with ease. Even Cedric, who had a close relationship with both his father and his best friend, was always nervous when one of them was talking about the other- when Bert Raccoon was angry with Cyrl it was hard to listen to his best friend badmouth his father, and when Cyril was ranting about those ring-tailed bandit faces ruining his life, Cedric couldn't stand listening to such words about his best friend.
It was only natural, then, that Cedric found himself drawn to Mrs. Pig. They had something important in common: the ability to see the best side of all the forest animals. When he wasn't working, he found himself drawn to her company. The next day into Mrs. Pig's visit, since Cyril wasn't around to limit his son's lunch hour, he chose to spend it with Mrs. Pig at the Blue Spruce Café.
"I know Mr. Sneer can be hard to get along with," said Mrs. Pig over lunch, "but he really does have a soft side that can be brought out with a little love. And the raccoons make him so angry, but they're really just doing what's best."
"I know," said Cedric, and he really meant it.
"And that Sophia of yours is quite a catch," added Mrs. Pig. "I don't know why Cyril doesn't like her, she's such a dear."
"He thinks she's a social climber," answered Cedric, "and that she only wants to marry me because I'm going to inherit Pop's fortune and business." He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully swallowed, and then added, "Well, actually, I think by now he's realized that isn't exactly true. I think now he just doesn't believe she's good enough for me. I should be marrying a wealthy debutante instead of a regular old aardvark."
"Well, that's silly," said Mrs. Pig. "Love doesn't care about social classes and neither should you."
"I don't," said Cedric. "It's just hard because I can never get those two together. Actually," he added wistfully, "it's really hard not being able to share so much of my life with Pop."
Mrs. Pig nodded. "I know exactly what you mean." She was thinking of her boys and their white lie.
"Have you seen Pop today?" asked Cedric.
"Yes, I have," replied Mrs. Pig. "He's up and out of bed, even if he hasn't left his room. I think he was just in a bad funk."
"I've never seen him like that before," said Cedric. By now he was certain that this was about far more than the fishing hole, though he still had no idea what it could be.
"Well, it can happen from time to time," said Mrs. Pig. She ate the last bite off her plate. "This was nice, Cedric. I enjoy sharing a lunch with someone."
Schaeffer passed by their table, pushing a large box on a handcart. "Everything okay here, folks?" he asked. "Ready for dessert? We've got chocolate pudding, Cedric."
"It's tempting," said Cedric, "but I really need to get home and check on Pop. Just put the bill on my tab, okay?"
"His half," said Mrs. Pig. "I'll pay for my half right here." She reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of bills. "The meal was delicious, Schaeffer."
"Thanks," said Schaeffer.
"By the way, what's in the box?" asked Cedric, gesturing to the handcart.
"I'm trying something new. I ordered a karaoke machine from a warehouse closeout and I'm thinking of starting a karaoke night. You think it'll draw a crowd?"
"I know Bert's gonna love it," said Cedric. "He's missed singing ever since our band stopped performing."
"Let us know when it's up and running," said Mrs. Pig.
"Are you coming back to the manor or do you have somewhere else to be?" asked Cedric.
"I was thinking of dropping in on George and Nicole and their cubs, but I think they'll be busy now. I'll come back to the house with you." So they left together.
As soon as he got home, Cedric went to his father's room. To his surprise Cyril wasn't there. 'Mrs. Pig was wrong,' thought Cedric as he scanned the room. He knocked on the door to the master bath, but it swung open and Cedric saw that it was dark and empty. "I wonder where Pop could have gone," Cedric wondered out loud. He went to poke around the mansion for Cyril.
At the same time, the pigs came in the house with the day's mail. Since they were still trying to stay out of their boss's sight, they left it quietly in the IN box on Cyril's desk, which had gotten pretty full during his little absence. They quibbled amongst themselves over which of them should remind him that some of his correspondences were marked as "urgent" before deciding that it was his own responsibility to run his business and, besides, he did tell them that he wanted them to stay out of his sight. It would require being in his line of sight to tell him that his mailbox was overflowing.
They turned around and found themselves face to face with their boss. "Boss!"
"Yeah, it's me," said Cyril gruffly. "Don't you have work to be doing somewhere else?"
"Yes sir! Of course, sir!" The pigs tripped over each other in their mad scramble to get away from Cyril. His steely glare followed them all the way until they were gone around the corner. Then he went to his office and surveyed the situation.
First things first. He began to open the mail that the pigs had brought in. Most of it was business, and none of it interesting enough to mention until he got to an invitation from Lady Baden-Baden for one of her high society social charity events. He groaned inwardly. After the party he'd just been to, he wasn't going to feel up to another party for a long, long time. He was just about to crumple it up when Cedric and Mrs. Pig passed by the open office door and saw him.
"Pop! You're back to work!" Cedric was extremely pleased with this development.
"Yeah?" Cyril puffed his cigar. "What of it?"
"Are you feeling better today, Mr. Sneer?" asked Mrs. Pig.
"I've felt better, I've felt worse," he said.
"What's that you're holding?" asked Cedric.
"Another invitation to one of Lady Baden-Baden's parties."
"Are you going to RSVP positive?"
"No. She's holding one of these things every other week, seems like. I'll just catch the next one."
"May I see?" asked Mrs. Pig.
Cyril tossed the letter to her and turned his attention back to the inbox. "Sure, what do I care?"
"Wasn't Lady Baden-Baden the hen who was hosting the antique car show?" asked Mrs. Pig. "And the fair?"
"Yes, she was," replied Cedric.
"Oh, she throws the most wonderful parties. It's a shame you're not going."
"Maybe you should go, Pop," said Cedric. "Get out of the house for a while. A change of scenery might do you good."
Cyril held out his hand and Mrs. Pig handed the invitation back to him. "Were you planning on going?" Cyril asked Cedric.
"I can't make it," said Cedric. "Sophia is in a figure skating contest in Ottawa and I promised her I would go with her, remember?" Cedric was very nervous about leaving his father after what he'd seen the day before, but he seemed to be doing much better now and besides, a promise to Sophia was a promise that he didn't want to break. Sophia would understand why if he did, but he just couldn't bring himself to. Besides, he would be leaving Cyril in very capable hands- Mrs. Pigs if he did well, Dr. Canard's if he didn't.
"Right, right," grumbled Cyril. "You and Sofa Girl have fun. I'll just put on my good tie and listen to that hen clucking about rich socialites and all that nonsense."
"Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. Pig. "What cause is she supporting this time?"
Cyril checked the invitation. "It's for some environmental clean-up charity. Probably thought of it because of the fishing hole."
"That's a good cause," said Mrs. Pig.
"You wanna go?" asked Cyril.
"I would, but I couldn't afford the plate cost."
Without another word to her, Cyril picked up his phone and dialed. "Hello... yeah, it's Sneer. I just got your invitation... uh-huh... a little late, yeah... uh-huh, put me down for two... no, no, just a friend... yeah, I owe her a favor. She's helping me out. Uh-huh... see you there. Ciao." He hung up.
As Mrs. Pig listened to his end of the conversation, her face went a bit red. "Oh, Mr. Sneer, you didn't have to..."
"No, I didn't," said Cyril bluntly. "I wanted to." He took out his cigar and smashed it in his desk ashtray. "You got anything to wear?"
Mrs. Pig shook her head, still flushed. "No... I only have a few house dresses. I haven't needed to dress up in years."
Cyril nodded, then bellowed, "PIGS!"
Everything was silent for a moment before the sound of quiet clopping hooves drew closer and closer, until the three pigs ran into the room. "Yes sir, yes sir, what is it, sir?"
Cyril pulled his wallet out of his desk. "Take your mother out and help her find something to wear for one of Lady Baden-Baden's charity dinners." He tossed it and Lloyd caught it.
"Yes, sir," they all said.
"And bring me back the receipt, got it? Don't go on a shopping spree or anything."
"You don't have to-" Mrs. Pig started.
"Trust me," said Cyril, "you want to look your best at one of Lady Baden-Baden's dinners. That's just how it is."
Mrs. Pig thanked him again, and then she and the pigs left.
The night of the party, Cyril put on his good top hat and tails to go to Lady Baden-Baden's event. He was waiting in the grand foyer for his companion for the night. Mrs. Pig was in the guest room changing into her new evening dress. Her sons were waiting outside the door.
"That certainly was nice of Mr. Sneer, wasn't it?" Mrs. Pig said conversationally through the door. "Letting me get a new dress on his expense."
"Uh, yeah," said Boyd. It always bothered the pigs watching how differently Cyril treated other people he considered on his level, such as the various tycoons he did business with, and how kind he could be to his own kin, but it was really weird watching him treat their mother that way, especially in contrast to how he treated them.
From downstairs, Cyril called, "Are you almost ready?"
"I'll be down in a moment," she called back.
Downstairs, Cyril tapped his foot on the ground and puffed on his cigar. He pulled out his gold pocket watch and checked the time, and then glanced up as he put it away. As he did, he caught sight of Mrs. Pig coming down the stairs, her three sons trailing after him in their "evening work" getups. They were dressed slightly more fancy than they usually were, but not nearly as fancy as the rich people they served.
What really caught his eye, though, was Mrs. Pig herself. She had chosen a sky blue evening gown with cap sleeves, matching flat shoes, and a new flowered hat with gorgeous blossoms bunched in the front and tied under her chin with a piece of silk. The dress had a sash tied around her middle, flowing off to the side as she stepped delicately down the stairs, and the skirt seemed to billow on its own as she moved. When Cyril saw her, the first thing he thought was not, "Oh, great, how much did that thing cost me?" but instead, "Wow, she really looks nice in that."
"Do I look like I'll fit in?" asked Mrs. Pig. "I didn't want to spend too much, but I didn't want to be underdressed since you made it a point that I would need to dress up..."
"You look fine," said Cyril. He escorted her out to the limo, while the pigs piled into the front seat and drove them out of Sneer Mansion and down to Lady Baden-Baden's.
Cyril's mansion was like a castle- or, in a lot of ways, a fortress or a dungeon. It was made of stone, all utility, and decorated only in vain Sneer-like ornaments and portraits of him and his ancestors. In contrast, Lady Baden-Baden and Knox's estate was modern, and felt more like an enormous house than a brick dungeon. Thick oriental rugs, floor vases with exotic flowers, polished tiles and papered walls, all made her estate welcoming and open. If Cyril ever hosted a party in his home, people wouldn't know whether or not to bring their own ball and chain; Lady Baden-Baden made them feel right at home.
"I'll have to say hello to a few key business contacts," said Cyril, "or they'll think I'm snubbing them. Why don't you and your sons mingle?"
Inside the ballroom, there were tables set up along three of the walls, the fourth one dedicated to a speaking platform. All along the tables were objects on pedestals or framed pictures- an antique vase, a photograph of a yacht, an autographed first-edition hardback...
"Oh," Mrs. Pig breathed as she realized. "It's a silent auction!"
"Hm." Cyril chewed his cigar. "And I'm expected to bid on something, no doubt. Just what I need. More expensive junk."
"I don't know," said Mrs. Pig. "I'm sure there's something here that could catch your interest."
"There usually isn't." Cyril moved through the crowd. First he had to find Mr. Knox and Lady Baden-Baden, thank them for the party, apologize for the late reply, and spend a few minutes chatting business. He had heard that Mr. Mammoth's assistant was there on his own, and he tried to wedge himself into a conversation to get on the bird's good side, and work on getting an "in" with Mammoth that way. The bird seemed detached when approached, so Cyril gave up before he became pestering and went around the room, chatting with people who looked important and presenting his best side to the press, even if it did mean not snapping at those bandit-faces who represented it.
Lady Baden-Baden called everyone into the dining hall. Cyril met up with Mrs. Pig, who had been chatting with the Raccoons, and located the name card that said CYRIL SNEER. Mrs. Pig took her seat next to him, where the name card said SNEER- GUEST. The pigs would be dining elsewhere. Then Lady Baden-Baden made a grand speech about the forest, and the head of the charity made a grand speech about how it worked, and then implored the guests for donations and to bid on the many luxurious items in the hall, which had been donated to benefit the cause. Then finally, the food came out.
It was the fanciest meal Mrs. Pig had ever seen. Chilled greens, scalloped potatoes, finely sliced roast, and the ice water was even served in a crystal glass. The china was delicate and painted with tiny, intricate vines and roses all around the edge. The silverware was even real silver. Cyril snuffed out his cigar and chomped away as if he ate like this every day (when in reality, it was only once every other day or so and the rest of the time he just ate like normal.) Truth be told, she was feeling a little uncomfortable sitting here in a fancy dress purchased with someone else's money, eating expensive food that cost more than she made in a month.
"Something wrong?" asked Cyril.
"No, no," said Mrs. Pig. She couldn't very well say anything when she was the reason they were here to begin with. She'd brought it up, after all.
"Did you want the vegetarian option?" he asked. "I didn't think to ask. I can call the waiter and have him bring out a different plate."
"That's all right," said Mrs. Pig quickly. She tasted the potatoes, and they really were delicious, some of the best potatoes she'd ever had. In spite of the guilt, she was hungry, and she began to eat in earnest.
After dinner they moved back into the ballroom to make final bids. Cyril was walking down the tables slowly, trying to find something that wouldn't be a complete waste of his money. Everything just seemed so frivolous and junky to him. "Fine art?" he said aloud, looking at an early Henri de la Possum painting with disdain. "Give me fine cigars any day." He turned around and addressed Mrs. Pig, who was sticking close to him. "Come on, Suey Ellen, help me find something to bid on."
"I don't know," she said nervously. She didn't want to be responsible for an outflow of even more of his money, not when he'd already spent so much on her behalf for one event.
"If I don't bid on something, everyone's gonna know it. I need to keep up an image, you know. That's why I come to these things." He stopped by a display. It was a gorgeous pearl necklace with a heart-cut ruby set in white gold, resting on a black velvet display bust. Under the glass container was a brief description of the jewelry and its previous owners. What really caught Cyril's eye was the current highest bid. Not only was it relatively low for an event of this caliber and jewelry this fine, but the bidder was Knox, and that brought out something competitive in Cyril. For all their business partnership, Cyril still thought they worked better as rivals. He quickly scribbled down a number, double-checked to see that it couldn't be mis-read as something ridiculously high, and then pocketed the pen as if that would stop anyone else from bidding.
A minute later Lady Baden-Baden flocked up to him. "Oh, Cyril," she squawked, "you picked a fine, fine item to bid on! As soon as I saw that come past our way, I said to Knoxie, 'Oh, Knoxie, that's the most wonderful lot in the entire auction! It's going to fetch a fantastic price for our charity. And oh, how beautiful will be the woman whose neck it's lovingly draped around...'"
Cyril did not want to get involved in this conversation, and he definitely did not want Knox to find out he'd been out-bid until it was too late. "Uh, yes, Lady Baden-Baden," said Cyril. "If you don't mind, I was just going to show my guest your wonderful gardens. I assume the garden is open, as usual?"
"Oh, of course it is! I'm so proud of our beautiful garden, I wouldn't dream of shutting it down during such a meaningful event! Of course most of my guests want to keep an eye on their bids, but you're free to wander out in the moonlight for as long as you like!"
"Sounds great." Cyril took Mrs. Pig by the arm. "Come on, then... let's head outside."
There was a bright flash, and Cyril turned around and glared at Melissa Raccoon, who had just snapped a picture of him mid-escape. She smiled and waved. "Hi, Cyril. Enjoying the party?"
"I don't know why they let your kind in here," he grumbled.
"My kind?" she replied, offended. "What do you mean? Raccoons? The middle-class?"
"No," said Cyril, and then, full of disdain, "the press." He and Mrs. Pig headed out of the ballroom at a quick pace.
Melissa turned to Ralph. "You know, I wouldn't mind getting a few night shots of her garden for my personal collection. The moonlight is just right tonight."
"Go ahead," said Ralph. "I don't think anything is going to happen until she announces the winning bids, and you already got candids of everyone here. I'll just keep mingling and taking notes, trying to see if I can put a different spin on this event than every other one she's hosted." Ralph sighed. "How can we keep selling papers with the same story?"
"Rich people gossip sells papers," said Melissa. "You can expose scandals and corruption when there are actually some that need to get out. But right now everything's pretty quiet."
Melissa left for the garden. She saw that as soon as Cyril had gotten outside, he had turned right, so she headed left.
Cyril and Mrs. Pig were walking by a small pond that shimmered in the moonlight. There was a tiny waterfall where water trickled down mossy rocks, making a soothing sound that put guests in the garden at ease. The pond was near the edge of the garden, which was surrounded by a low hedgerow.
"Thank you for inviting me," said Mrs. Pig.
"Sorry I dragged you out here," said Cyril. "I had to think fast. Lady Baden-Baden is kind of smothering."
"I don't mind," said Mrs. Pig. "I remember seeing these gardens the last time I was here. I wanted to get a closer look, but I didn't get the chance."
"Well, here's your chance."
"Do you not like Lady Baden-Baden?" asked Mrs. Pig.
"Hm? No, I like her just fine. In small doses." He let out a short laugh. "Would you believe I almost ended up married to her once?"
Mrs. Pig laughed with him. "Really?"
"Yeah. Long story. Now Knox is stuck with her, so it all worked out."
"Have you been married?" asked Mrs. Pig.
"Well, yeah. To Cedric's mother."
"I mean after that."
Cyril shook his head. "No. I was never really with anyone after Cheryl died. How about you?"
"No," said Mrs. Pig. "I never had the chance. Raising three boys is a full-time job. Add that to the full-time job I already had to work to support them, and, well, there you are."
"Yeah. They are a handful, aren't they?"
"They're good boys," said Mrs. Pig. She sighed, remembering why she was here to begin with. "They just get in a lot of trouble, that's all."
"Tell me about it." Cyril snorted. "Cedric was easy. Did his homework, cleaned his room..."
They passed a small alcove under a weeping willow, with a stone bench, and the perimeter surrounded by white roses. Cyril made a beeline for the seat so he could get off his feet. Mrs. Pig sat down next to him.
"Mr. Sneer," said Mrs. Pig, "why did you bid on that necklace?"
"Huh?" It took him a moment to remember. "Oh, right! Because Knox wanted it."
"What are you going to do with it if you win it? Surely you don't wear jewelry."
"No, no..."
"You could give it to Cedric to give to Sophia."
"If Cedric wants to give a gift to that girl, he'll have to buy it himself. I guess I don't really know what I'm going to do with it."
"Well, I can't accept it."
Cyril looked surprised. "I thought you were trying to get me to ask you if you wanted it. Why go out of your way to say you don't want it?"
"Truth be told, I'm just not used to people spending money on me. My late husband, well, we weren't poor, but he was blue collar so we never had a lot of money to spend on frivolous things. Now you let me buy this dress and take me to a fancy expensive dinner, and if I ended up with the necklace I could never wear it without feeling guilty, and not wearing it would make me feel even more guilty..."
Cyril cut her off. "Look, it's not a lot of money for me, I promise."
"But still..."
"And besides..." He shifted uncomfortably and moved his feet, which suddenly felt awkward and in the way. "Well, I wanted to do you a favor."
"All I did was eat ice cream and chat with you," said Mrs. Pig. "It's not that big a thing."
"It wasn't what you did. It's, well... you made me feel happy. So... I guess I wanted to make you feel as good as I did. When we were talking."
Mrs. Pig looked up at Cyril. "You mean that?"
"Ever since you came here, I've been in a good mood. It's you. You're making me smile again."
Cyril didn't even think about it. He just did what felt right. He leaned in and kissed her.
At that exact moment, Melissa Raccoon was walking past the willow tree. She had her hands on the camera, letting it hang loose at strap length, so she could lift it up and snap a picture as quickly as possible. When she saw the two of them under the willow, she snapped a picture without even thinking about it. The flash alerted Floyd, who was on the other side of the hedgerow taking one of the trash cans to the edge of the road for pickup in the morning, to peek through the shrubbery and see what was going on under the willow tree that was worth taking a picture of.
A second later, Cyril would be chasing off Melissa, who would already be running back to the party with her camera where there would be too many witnesses for him to strangle her. And Floyd would be racing shrieking back to the kitchen to tell his brothers what he saw.
But for that one moment, under the willow tree in the moonlight, everything was magical and perfect.