Recessional: A Novel by James A. Michener Page B

Miss Foxworth could not suppress a giggle.
    At this point Zorn said: “I think the Mallorys should wait outside and allow me to consult with my colleagues about what we should do in this case.” As the amiable couple rose to go, expressing no displeasure at having been dismissed for the moment, Zorn couldnot keep from assuring them that he had been warmly impressed by the way they had treated him on that first day: “We’ll see what can be worked out.”
    When he was alone with his warring staff members he asked for specifics that would justify Krenek’s harsh opposition to the Mallorys, and Krenek was quick to reply: “They drive me nuts. Have for all the years I’ve been here. Initially they could never agree about coming into the Palms. He originally dragged his feet, said he was only seventy-nine and not about to end his life in what he called ‘God’s warehouse.’ ”
    “How about his wife?”
    “She was two years younger, seventy-seven and absolutely fed up with keeping a large house and entertaining his friends.”
    “And she prevailed?”
    “Yep, they moved in, fought all the time, made people uneasy, and moved out, with him blasting the place.”
    “But they came back?”
    “Yep, and now it was he who wanted the easy living and she yammering like crazy against the early dining hours. More fights, more uneasiness. But always brought with them her big Cadillac. They loved it. They’re mad about dancing and take couples from here into Tampa for evening dinners. Yep, they go dancing at least one night a week.”
    “So why did they leave the second time?”
    “They told me that they both agreed that they were too young for the long rest. They wanted their own small apartment, their own eating hours, their Cadillac and their dancing. This time you should say no. Because, sure as blazes, six months from now they’ll want out again. Too much wear and tear on the system.”
    “But Miss Foxworth, you say bring them back in?”
    “I do. They want their big apartment back, and I believe I can negotiate a hefty buy-in. They’re loaded, and I think they’ll go for it.”
    “Don’t they have any children to express an interest in what they do?” Zorn asked, and Miss Foxworth said: “The children, in their fifties, are a messy lot. They signed the contracts the first two times and I found them detestable. They haggled over every penny. The good part about the proposed deal this time is that the children are not involved. The old folks told me: ‘This will probably be our last home. We’ll engineer it ourselves,’ and they’re ready to sign.”
    “For how much?”
    “It’s a two-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar buy-in, so that, plus the monthly fee, would represent a lot of income. If I can’t negotiate with them I know you could. They told me one of the reasons why they wanted to come back was that you gave the place class. They were never happy with Mr. Krenek.”
    “Nor I with them,” Ken said. “And I warn you, Andy, if you do allow them in, you’ll face a messy situation before long. They’ll want out and their money back.”
    Zorn, feeling that he understood the facts and the sensible, though contradictory, opinions of Krenek and Foxworth, asked Nurse Varney to call the Mallorys back into the meeting. When he saw the cheerful pair, totally unaware that they had been behaving foolishly, he had to smile, for he liked them and felt sure there was a place for them in the Palms, if only they would behave reasonably.
    As if he were a benevolent schoolmaster consulting with high school students who had been temporarily suspended, he opened the session with a conciliatory question: “Why would you good people want to come back a third time? When you left us before in such disdain?”
    Mr. Mallory spoke: “We realized that all our real friends are here. When you reach ninety there aren’t too many left out there.”
    “And you think that this time you might make it stick?”
    She spoke: “In