Safe Harbour

by Danielle Steel

  “You really are a faithful friend. You must have left the beach at the crack of dawn,” Ophélie said with a grateful smile.

  “No, just around eight. I thought it would be fun.” He didn't tell her that he had gone to every one of Robert's games before the divorce, and many in Auckland after that. Robert had learned to play rugby there too.

  “She was hoping you'd come. Thank you for not disappointing her.” Ophélie meant it. He had never disappointed Pip once since they'd met, nor her. He was the one person they both knew they could rely on.

  “I wouldn't miss it for the world. I used to coach.”

  “Don't tell her. She'll sign you up for the team.” They both laughed, and stood for ages watching the game. Pip was playing well and had scored a goal, when Andrea arrived with the baby in a stroller in a little down bag to keep him warm. Ophélie introduced her to Matt, and they stood chatting for a while. She tried not to feel the vibes of Andrea's questions and opinions and assumptions directed at her when she saw Matt. Ophélie looked artfully unruffled, and after the baby had cried for half an hour because he wanted to be fed, Andrea left. But Ophélie felt certain that she would hear from her later on. She could count on it. And she ignored all of Andrea's meaningful looks when she left, and continued chatting with Matt.

  “She's Pip's godmother and my oldest friend out here,” Ophélie explained.

  “Pip told me about her, and the baby. If Pip's description of the situation is correct, it was a brave thing to do.” He was discreetly referring to the sperm bank story that Pip had told him, and Ophélie understood. She liked his delicacy and discretion.

  “It was brave, but she thought she'd never have children otherwise, and she's thrilled with the baby.”

  “He's very cute,” he said, and then went back to watching Pip. He and Ophélie were both pleased and proud when her team won the game, and she came off the field with a broad grin of victory, as they praised her.

  He offered to take them to lunch afterward, and they went to a pancake house at Pip's request, had a nice brunch together, and then Matt went back to the beach. He wanted to work on the portrait, and said as much to Pip in a whisper as they left, and she winked. And after that, she and Ophélie went home. The phone was ringing as soon as Ophélie opened the door, and she could guess who it was.

  “My, my… now he's coming to Pip's soccer games?” Andrea's voice was full of innuendo, as Ophélie shook her head at her end. “I think you're holding out on me.”

  “Maybe he's in love with her, and he'll be my son-in-law one day,” Ophélie said, laughing. She had expected this. “I am not holding out on you.”

  “Then you're crazy. He's the best-looking man I've seen in years. If he's straight, grab him, for chrissake. Do you think he is?” Andrea said, suddenly sounding concerned.

  “Is what?” Ophélie hadn't gotten the gist of what she said. It hadn't even occurred to her, and either way, she didn't care. They were just friends.

  “Straight. Do you think he's gay?”

  “I don't think so. I never asked him. He was married, for heaven's sake, and had two kids. But what difference does it make?”

  “He could have become gay after that,” Andrea said practically, but she didn't think he was gay either. “But I don't think so. I think you're nuts if you don't grab him while you've got the opportunity. Guys like that get snatched off the market before you can sneeze.”

  “Well, I'm not sneezing, and I don't think he's on the market any more than I am. I think he wants to be alone.”

  “Maybe he's depressed. Is he on medication? You could suggest it, that might get the ball rolling. Of course, then you could have the issue of side effects to deal with. Some antidepressants depress men's sex drives. But there's always Viagra,” Andrea said optimistically while Ophélie rolled her eyes.

  “I'll be sure to suggest it to him. He'll be thrilled. He doesn't need Viagra to have dinner with us. And I don't think he's depressed. I think he's wounded.” That was different.

  “Same thing. How long ago did his wife leave? Ten years? It's not normal for him to still be alone. Or to be so interested in Pip, if he's not a child molester, which I don't think he is either. He needs a relationship, and so do you.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wilson. I feel better already. The poor man, he should only know that you're reorganizing his life, and mine. And prescribing Viagra.”

  “Someone has to. He's obviously incapable of organizing this himself, and so are you. You can't just sit there for the rest of your life. Besides, Pip'll be gone in a few years.”

  “I've already thought about that myself, and it makes me hysterical, thank you. I just have to get used to it. Fortunately, I still have time before she leaves.” But it was the one thing that frightened her most now, she couldn't conceive of living alone without Pip, once she grew up. The thought of it depressed her so badly, it took her breath away. But Matthew Bowles wasn't the answer to her problems. She just had to get used to being alone. And enjoy Pip as much as she could while she was still there. Ophélie wasn't looking for anyone to fill the void Chad and Ted had left, nor the one Pip would leave when she went. She was going to have to fill it with work, friends, and whatever else she could find, like the work she was doing with the homeless. “Matt's not the answer,” she reiterated to Andrea.

  “Why not? He looks pretty good to me.” Better than that, in fact.

  “Then you go after him, and give him Viagra. I'm sure he'll be grateful to you,” Ophélie said, laughing again. Andrea was outrageous, but she always had been. It was one of the things Ophélie liked about her. And they were very different.

  “Maybe I will go after him. When is Pip's next soccer game?”

  “You're impossible. Why don't you just drive to Safe Harbour and beat his door down with an ax. It might impress him with how determined you are to save him from himself.”

  “Sounds like a great idea to me.” Andrea sounded undaunted.

  They chatted for a few minutes, and Ophélie didn't tell her about the remarkable night she'd had on the streets the night before. Late that afternoon, she and Pip went to a movie, and then came home and had dinner. And by ten o'clock, they were both in Ophélie's bed, sound asleep.

  At Safe Harbour at that hour, Matt was still working on Pip's portrait. He was wrestling with her mouth that night, and thinking about how she had looked when she came off the field from the soccer game. She had been wearing the most irresistible grin. He loved looking at her, and painting her and being with her. And he enjoyed Ophélie's company too, but probably not as much as he enjoyed Pip's. She was an angel, a wood sprite, an elf, a wise little old soul in a child's body, and as he painted her, all of those qualities began to emerge. He was pleased with the painting by the time he went to bed that night. And he was still asleep the next morning when Pip called. She was apologetic when she realized she had woken him up.

  “I'm sorry I woke you, Matt. I thought you'd be up by now.” It was nine-thirty, which seemed late enough to her. But he hadn't gone to bed till nearly two.

  “That's fine. I was working on a certain project of ours last night. I think I've nearly got it.” He sounded pleased, and so did she.

  “My mom is going to love it,” Pip assured him. “Maybe we can go to dinner one night and you can show me. She's going to be working two nights a week.”

  “Doing what?” He sounded surprised. He didn't even know she had a job, other than volunteer work she'd been planning to do with the homeless at the Wexler Center. This somehow sounded more serious, and somewhat official.

  “She's going to work in a van, visiting the homeless on the street, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She'll be out all night almost, and Alice is going to spend the night here, because it'll be too late for her to go home when my mom gets back.”

  “That sounds pretty interesting,” he said to Pip. But also very dangerous, he thought to himself, but he didn't want to worry her. “I'll be happy to come and take you to dinner. But maybe we should wai
t until a night when your mom will be there too. She might feel left out.” He enjoyed Ophélie's company, but also never lost sight of the proprieties, of seeing a child Pip's age without her mother, except on an open beach, as he had all summer. That was different, in his view at least. And he suspected that Ophélie would have agreed. Most of their ideas about children seemed to be fairly similar, and he had great respect for how Ophélie had raised Pip, and was continuing to do so. The results had been extremely good, from all he could see.

  “Maybe you can come visit us next week.”

  “I'll try,” he promised, but as it turned out, his plans and theirs didn't mesh for the next few weeks. He was working on the portrait, and had some other things to do, and business to attend to. Ophélie was busier than she'd ever expected. She had decided to work three days a week at the Center, and two nights a week on the streets with the outreach team. It was a heavy schedule for her. And Pip had a lot more homework than she wanted to admit.

  It was the first of October, when he called Ophélie and invited her to the beach for the day the following weekend, but Ophélie seemed to hesitate, and then explained it to him.

  “Ted and Chad's anniversary date is the day before that,” she said sadly. “I think it's going to be kind of a tough day for both of us. I'm not sure how we're going to feel so soon after, and I'd hate to come out and be gloomy and depressed. It might be better to wait another week. Actually, Pip's birthday is the following week.” He remembered it vaguely, but she hadn't said much about it to him, which he thought very adult of her, and discreet.

  “We could do both. Let's play the day after the anniversary by ear. It might do you both good to come out to Safe Harbour for a change of scenery. You don't have to tell me till you wake up that morning. And if it wouldn't be an intrusion, I'd love to take you and Pip to dinner for her birthday, if you think that would be fun for her.”

  “I'm sure she'd love it,” Ophélie said honestly, and in the end agreed to call him the morning after the anniversary. She suspected correctly they'd be talking to him before that anyway. And even busy as she was these days, she enjoyed hearing his voice on the phone.

  She told Pip about both invitations, and she was visibly pleased, although she herself was nervous about the anniversary. She was mostly afraid it would be hard on her mother and set her back again. She had been doing so well lately, and the anniversary date seemed like a major threat to them both.

  Ophélie was having a mass said at Saint Dominic's, and other than that, they had nothing planned. There had been no remains after the plane exploded and burned, and Ophélie had purposely not put up headstones in a cemetery over empty graves. She didn't want to have a place to go or mourn. As far as she was concerned, she had explained to Pip the year before, they carried them in their hearts. All that had been left in the rubble were Chad's belt buckle, and Ted's wedding ring, both twisted almost beyond recognition, but she had saved both.

  So all they had to do that day was go to mass. They were planning to spend the rest of the day quietly at the house, thinking about the loved ones they had lost. Which was exactly what Pip was worried about. And as the day drew closer, so was Ophélie. She was anticipating the anniversary of their death with dread.

  18

  AS IT TURNED OUT, THE DAY OF THE ANNIVERSARY dawned sunny and beautiful. The sun was streaming through Ophélie's bedroom windows when she and Pip woke up in her bed. Pip had been there almost every night since the beginning of September. It had afforded Ophélie great comfort, and she was still grateful to Matt for the suggestion. But they were both silent when they woke up that day.

  Ophélie thought instantly, as did Pip, of the day of the funeral, which had been equally sunny, and agonizing for all concerned. All of Ted's colleagues and associates over the years, and their friends, had come, as well as all of Chad's friends, and his entire class. Mercifully, Ophélie scarcely remembered it, she had been in such a daze. All she remembered was the sea of flowers, and Pip holding her hand so tightly it hurt. And then from somewhere, like a choir from Heaven, the Ave Maria, which had never sounded as beautiful or as mesmerizing as it had that day. It was a memory she knew she would never get out of her head.

  They went to mass together, and sat silently next to each other. At her request, Ted's and Chad's names were read off during the special intentions, and it brought tears to Ophélie's eyes, and once again she and Pip held hands. And after that, they went home, after stopping for a moment to thank the priest. They each lit a candle, Ophélie's for her husband, and Pip's for Chad, and then they drove home in silence. You could have heard a pin drop all day in the silent house. And it reminded them both of the day of Ted's and Chad's deaths. Neither of them ate, neither of them spoke, and when the doorbell rang that afternoon, they both jumped. It was flowers from Matt, he had sent a small bouquet to each of them. And Ophélie and Pip were equally touched. The cards said simply, “Thinking of you today. Love, Matt.”

  “I love him,” Pip said simply as she read the card. Things were so simple at her age. So much simpler than they would ever be again.

  “He's a nice man, and a good friend,” Ophélie said, and Pip nodded in answer, and took the flowers upstairs to her room. Even Mousse was quiet, and seemed to sense that neither of his owners was having a good day. Andrea had sent them flowers too, which had arrived the previous afternoon. She was not religious or she'd have gone to mass with them, but they knew that she would be thinking about them both, as was Matt.

  By nightfall, they were both anxious to go to bed. Pip turned the television on in her mother's room, and Ophélie asked her to turn it off, or go watch it somewhere else. But Pip didn't want to be alone, so she stayed in the silent room with her mother, and it was a mercy when they both finally went to sleep in each other's arms. Ophélie hadn't told her, but Pip knew that her mother had spent several hours that day crying in Chad's room. It had been an utterly awful day for them in every way. There was nothing good about the anniversary, no obvious blessing, no compensation for what they'd gone through. It was a day, like most of the last year, that was entirely about loss.

  And in the morning, when the phone rang, they were both at the kitchen table, where Ophélie was silently reading the paper, while Pip played with the dog. It was Matt.

  “I don't dare ask how yesterday was,” he said cautiously, after he had said hello to Ophélie.

  “Don't. It was as bad as I thought it would be. But at least it's over. Thank you so much for the flowers.” It was hard to explain, even to herself, why anniversaries were so meaningful. There was no reason it should be so much worse than the day after or the day before, but it was. It was like a celebration of the worst day of their lives. There was not a single benefit in it. The entire day was the anniversary of the worst day that had ever dawned, and it was flooded with memories of an agonizing time. He sounded infinitely sympathetic, but had no wisdom to offer, having never been through it himself. His own losses had stretched over time, and finally become evident. They hadn't happened all at once in a single hideous instant like theirs.

  “I didn't want to intrude, so I didn't call,” he apologized.

  “It was better that way,” she said honestly. Neither of them had wanted to talk to anyone, although Pip probably would have liked to talk to him, she realized. “Your flowers were beautiful. We were very touched.”

  “I was wondering if you'd like to come out today. It might do you both good. What do you think?” She really didn't want to, but she thought Pip might, given the opportunity. And she felt guilty just rejecting the invitation out of hand.

  “I'm not very good company.” She still felt utterly worn out by the previous day's emotions, especially the hours she had spent sobbing on Chad's bed, muffling the sounds of her crying in his pillow, which still smelled faintly like him. She had never washed the sheets or the pillowcase, and knew she never would. “I can't speak for Pip though. She might like to see you. Why don't I talk to her and call you back,” but Pip was al
ready waving frantically when her mother hung up.

  “I want to! I want to!” she said, looking instantly revived, and Ophélie didn't have the heart to disappoint her, although she wasn't in the mood to go anywhere herself. It was hardly a long journey. It only took half an hour, and if it turned out to be too difficult, Ophélie knew they could come back in a couple of hours. She knew Matt would understand. She wasn't much in the mood herself. “Can we go, Mom? Please???”

  “All right,” Ophélie conceded. “But I don't want to stay long. I'm tired.” Pip knew it was more than that, but she hoped that once she got her there, her mother would perk up. She knew her mother liked talking to Matt, and she had the feeling she'd feel a lot better walking along the ocean on the sand.

  Ophélie told Matt they would be there by noon, and he was pleased. She offered to bring lunch, and he told her not to worry about it. He said he'd make an omelette, and if Pip hated it, he had bought peanut butter and jelly for her the day before. It sounded like just what the doctor ordered, and was.

  He was waiting for them outside when they drove up, sitting in an old deck chair on his deck, and enjoying the sun. He looked pleased to see them, and Pip threw her arms around him, and then, as always now, Ophélie kissed him on both cheeks. But he noticed instantly how sad she was. She looked as though there was a thousand-pound weight on her heart, which there was. He sat her in his deck chair, and put an old plaid blanket over her, insisting she stay there and relax, and then he enlisted Pip to help him make mushroom omelettes and help him chop herbs. She liked helping him, and set the table, and by the time Matt sent her to call her mother in, Ophélie was more relaxed, and felt as though the ice block on her chest was thawing a little in the sun. She was quiet during lunch, but by the time he served strawberries and cream, she was actually smiling, and Pip was immensely relieved. Ophélie went to get something out of the car, while he made tea, and Pip whispered to him with a worried look.