Miss Oliver At Home

Chapter Nine

Since that first evening the Olivers arrived and found dinner and the book of fairytales outside their front door, Olivia was gnawed with curiosity to discover who had been leaving all the gifts. There were more surprises. On Sunday evening, she found three bars of soap on the welcome mat, each one done up in fresh, white paper. Edwin had thought it silly and returned to his stamp collection, but Lillian and Olivia sniffed appreciatively at the scents of lemon, lavender, and pine. Olivia laughed ruefully to herself at the fact that they were so excited over something as simple as soap. Before the stock market crashed, they'd had whatever they desired, but now the little luxuries were treasure. Olivia had saved her expensive perfumes as long as possible, but now the soaps helped do the trick. It was lovely to walk around smelling like a garden.

"The Fairy godmother seems to think that we need a bit of freshening up before the ball," said Lillian drily. She had been vigilantly on the lookout for the giver of the gifts, watching the neighbors and waiting for a relative to let something slip. But somehow, The Fairy Godmother kept her identity to herself.

The main body of the tree house was up and looked wonderful. Edwin was in raptures over it and practically worshipped the ground on which Alan walked. He was "Alan" to them all now. It was impossible to remain formal when they were all out in the backyard that weekend, wearing their worst clothes, climbing up and down ladders, and narrowly missing each other's fingers with the hammer. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to call him by his Christian name.

Olivia assisted where she could and served lemonade periodically, but for the most part, she just sat in the sun with Miss Edda and watched them, laughing. Edwin, covered head to toe in dirt, was in his element, and Lillian, although she kept her favorite navy trousers clean, was thrilled to have a project to work on. And Alan gave the building of the treehouse his full attention: sweating, working, and joking more than anyone.

Mr. Barton and his daughter Sarah came outside often to watch the progress of the building. At least, that's what Mr. Barton said, but Olivia believed they really came to watch the Olivers, as if they were hungry for smiles and companionship. Indeed, Sarah looked like a starved deer and sat quietly in a chair, hidden from the sun by an umbrella her father placed for her protection. Watching the tired, lifeless way that Sarah sat there bothered Olivia almost as much as when Napoleon chased her cat.

"Napoleon" was the name of Mr. Barton's dog, or The Beast, as Lillian called him. The creature was huge, with a shaggy coat and a wicked gleam in his eye. Even Edwin admitted to being a bit afraid of him, and Olivia little wondered why Sarah looked so out of sorts when she lived with such an animal. "Napoleon" would strike fear in the heart of Goliath.

The cat was not much nicer than the dog, but he had the advantage of being small, graceful, and homeless. Olivia had come across him in the alley that ran alongside their house on that first day at South Street, and he continued to lurk nearby. When he was in the yard, he believed it to be his throne room and hissed and spat at any subject who dared to enter and, much worse, bring him a dish of milk. But Olivia felt a sort of affection for the cat, and even Lillian, who was very wary of the species in general, had taken to calling him "our cat."

Napoleon was never much out of doors, but on that fine afternoon, he had followed Mr. Barton outside. He was sitting grumpily on the patio when the cat walked by, swishing his incredibly long black tail about as if he owned the place. (He did.) This was too much for the wicked dog to bear, and he took off after the feline with a look that plainly said, I will kill you, my good fellow. (He would.)

"Oh! Napoleon! Stop it! Stop it right now!"

Olivia's hollering was to no avail. Around the yard the two animals went. They were soon joined by Mr. Barton, who upon seeing Olivia's angrily flashing eyes took off in pursuit, much to the distress of his second-best dress pants.