The Big Cat Nap

through the store’s front door. “Harry, is that you?” he asked.
    Harry threw up her hands. “Why is everyone surprised to find me at Keller and George?”
    “Uh …” Blair fumbled.
    Gayle came to the rescue. “She’s out of context.”
    “Right.” Blair reached in his pocket and pulled out expensive cigars. “Howard!” he called.
    Howard loved a good cigar.
    “He’s back there.” Gayle pointed to the door.
    Before Blair walked behind the counter to open the workshop door, he handed Bill a cigar. Then he held one up for Gayle.
    The blonde smiled. “No, thanks.”
    Harry called to him. “Miranda wants one, according to Herb.”
    “Will do.” Blair disappeared into the workroom.
    “I think I’d better go before someone else comes in and is surprised to find me.”
    “Your pearls will be waiting for you,” Gayle said.
    Harry looked from Gayle to Bill. “How many carats is that pear diamond?”
    “Eight,” Bill swiftly replied.
    “At about twenty-two thousand a carat,” said Gayle. “The price of diamonds just went up.” She thought the pear-shaped diamond utter perfection.
    “Oh, my God,” Harry whispered.
    “And the chain was platinum.” Bill smiled. “Just about two hundred thousand, all told.”
    “I feel faint. I had a two-hundred-thousand-dollar necklace on.” Harry blanched.
    Bill, ever gallant, replied, “You did it justice.”
    “That you did,” Gayle agreed.
    “Shall we assume there are a lot of car repairs in Charlottesville?” Harry laughed as she left the store, her right hand still touching her neck.

S itting in the modest living room, Herb bowed his head in prayer. Sitting tightly together on the sofa, Sharon and Artie Meola did likewise. The husband and wife held hands.
    “Heavenly Father, grant to these thy servants the warmth of thy love. Help them through this sorrowful trial. Let them know their daughter now resides with you, secure in the bosom of heaven. In time they will be reunited with Tara in great rejoicing.
    “Grant them knowledge of her spirit united with your Son. Give them peace and show all of us the way to help Sharon and Artie transform their sorrows into deeper love.
    “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” Tears spilled down his red cheeks.
    Sharon sobbed. Artie put his arm around his wife of thirty-two years. He cried, as well.
    Finally, Artie rasped, “Reverend, I don’t know if I will ever understand. Friends told me at the funeral, this is God’s will. How can it be God’s will to take our girl in such a horrible way?”
    Tara, driving her old but sturdy Ford Explorer, was killed in a freak accident on the two-lane highway from Crozet to Whitehall. The old road contained numerous blind curves. Years ago, paving it was seen as a great victory by the state representative and by many residents. Others thought differently. Too much speed on a dirt road meantyou’d skid out, your hind end would crunch sideways. You might go off the road. Or you might dampen your speed. Rarely were there deaths, although there were sure enough cars that crashed through wooden fences and wound up in the pastures. The paved road encouraged development, which in turn encouraged more traffic at faster speeds.
    According to the team investigating the fatal crash, Tara was going the speed limit. She was on her way home to Crozet, heading south from Whitehall. As she approached a curve just beyond Chuck Pinnell’s leather business—formerly a large apple shed—a deer leapt out, crashing through the driver’s side windshield. Tara swerved her Explorer into oncoming traffic—which happened to be a mighty Range Rover, flying along at ten miles over the speed limit.
    By the time the rescue squad was on the scene, Tara had bled to death. The driver of the Range Rover would never be the same. His only fault was speeding, but no one could foresee such an event.
    Tara, just twenty-five, brimming with promise and so very pretty, had been the Meolas’ only child.
    After a half hour of talking, praying, drawing closer together, Sharon asked Herb to please have a bit of lunch with them.
    Some people would have refused this, fearing to put the distraught mother to more trouble, but Herb, wise in the ways of people and especially wise in the ways of Virginia ladies, readily agreed. Preparing the meal would give Sharon something to do, something at which she excelled.
    She and Artie talked the whole way through a light delicious lunch about