Heaven Sent by Alice Duncan

the curtain aside, and gazing at the lawn, he recalled the
time he’d observed Becky and Miss Prophet playing Robin Hood. He’d
heard them talking about a “monster” later on that same day, and
had assumed they’d been playing at Frankenstein .
    “ What a way of discovering a
mistake,” he growled.
    As he turned away from the window and
went back to his desk, he recalled the stupid cat turning a
somersault as it tried to get at a balled-up piece of paper. He
remembered the idiotic animal whacking the ball as if he were a
crazed baseball player trying for a home run. He remembered Becky
squealing with delight as the deranged feline, with his fluffy
black tail trailing behind him like a cloud of dust, raced after
the paper ball like a lion after an antelope, and pouncing on it as
if it were making a kill.
    Aubrey had been laughing to himself
for probably thirty seconds—perhaps even a whole minute—before he
realized what he was doing and stopped, appalled.
    What in the name of holy hell did he
have to laugh about? His wife was dead. His daughter was in the
clutches of a mad nanny. A huge black cat stalked at will through
the halls of his home. His life was ruined. It might as well be
over.
    There wasn’t a single amusing thing
left for him in this horrible world, and it was a blot on Anne’s
memory to laugh under these appalling circumstances.
    Then he remembered the cat juggling
the paper ball like a circus performer and, while he didn’t allow
himself to laugh, he did grin.
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    Brisk winds had started to blow, there
was a distinct nip in the air, and the leaves were threatening to
turn color. School was about to start in the little village of
Santa Angelica. It would be Becky’s first school year, and Aubrey’s
heart hurt when he thought about how Anne would have enjoyed
preparing her for the new experience.
    But Anne wasn’t here to see their
daughter off to school. And Aubrey hadn’t a clue as to how to
prepare a child to endure the vicissitudes of the schoolroom.
Rearing children, as he’d discovered a long time ago, was not man’s
work. Men generally didn’t know how to go about it, and Aubrey was
no exception to this rule. Oh, how he missed Anne during the days
leading up to their child’s first day of school.
    He’d heard Miss Prophet telling Becky
all about the Santa Angelica Public School, which she had attended
as a youngster. The village was small, and its school consisted of
two rooms and boasted two teachers, one an elderly man and the
other a young woman. Miss Prophet said this made it twice as big as
when she’d gone there. Becky had laughed when she’d said
it.
    Since Miss Prophet had been born and
reared in Santa Angelica; she knew Aubrey had heard her detailing
their different personalities in a humorous way, but one that left
no doubt as to what she expected Becky to do in the way of
discipline and paying attention. Aubrey thought she’d done very
well in this regard, although he didn’t tell her so.
    He presumed the two teachers split
their teaching responsibilities by age or sex or something. He
hadn’t looked into the matter personally, but had left everything
to Miss Prophet who, unlike Aubrey himself, knew all about getting
little girls prepared to face the challenges of
education.
    Miss Prophet had also sewn five
dresses for Becky to wear to school. Aubrey hated to acknowledge
her talents in the direction of fashion, but he’d done so,
grudgingly, when Becky, her face radiant, had turned in front of
him, showing off her new wardrobe one dress at a time. The dresses
were quite fetching, and he’d gone so far as to thank Miss Prophet,
who’d responded coolly and inclined her head a quarter of an
inch.
    Upon further acquaintance, Monster had
not stopped biting Aubrey, but attacked his feet whenever he had
the chance.
    As Aubrey went to his office on this
chilly September morning, he had to leap out of the way of the
pugnacious cat, who seemed to enjoy