Safe Harbour

by Danielle Steel

  Even Pip noticed that she looked quiet and pensive the next morning in the car on the way to school.

  “Something wrong, Mom?” she asked as she turned the radio on, and Ophélie winced at the volume, as she always did. It was a raucous way to start the morning. Pip worried less about her mother's moods these days. Whatever else happened, she seemed to recover from the bad days sooner. Although she still didn't know what had happened on Thanksgiving. All she knew was that it had something to do with Andrea. Her mother had told her that they wouldn't be seeing her again. Pip was shocked. But Ophélie refused to answer any questions. And when Pip asked her, “Ever?” Ophélie confirmed it. Ever.

  “No, I'm okay,” Ophélie answered, but she didn't look convincing. And she had to struggle for concentration all that day at the Center. Even Miriam at the front desk commented on it. And when Matt called, he could hear it.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding worried.

  “I think so,” she said honestly, which didn't reassure him. Her uncertainty was unnerving.

  “What does that mean? Should I panic?” She smiled in answer.

  “No, don't panic. I'm just scared, I think.” She wasn't sure if it was a timing or adjustment issue for her, or something deeper.

  “What are you scared of?” He wanted to air it with her, so she'd feel better. He had been floating on air since he kissed her on her birthday. It was just exactly what he wanted, and hadn't known it. Although for a while now he'd been aware of his growing feelings for her, which were not by any means as casual as he'd pretended.

  “Are you kidding? I'm scared of you, me, life, fate, destiny, good things, bad things… disappointment, betrayal, your dying, my dying…do you want me to go on?”

  “No, that ought to do it. For now at least. You can save the rest till you see me. We can spend all day on it then.” It sounded like it was going to take that long. And then he got serious with her. He was sorry that she was so afraid, and wanted to share his sense of confidence with her. “What can I do to reassure you?” he asked gently, and she sighed.

  “I'm not sure you can. Give me time. I just lost the last of my illusions about my marriage. I'm not sure I can handle much more than that. This may not be the right time.” His heart sank at her words.

  “Will you at least give us a chance? Don't make any decisions yet. We have a right to be happy, both of us. Let's not blow it to bits before we start. Will you do that?”

  “I'll try.” It was all she could do. In her heart of hearts, she thought he might be better off with someone else. Someone simpler, and who had been less brutally hurt than she had been, and again recently. At times, she felt so damaged. Yet with him she always felt peaceful, whole, and safe, which said a lot.

  He came to town and had dinner with her and Pip that weekend, and on Sunday she and Pip drove out to the beach to see him. Robert had come up for the day from Stanford, and Matt was anxious for them to meet. Ophélie was enormously impressed. He was a lovely boy, and in spite of the years they had missed together, he was remarkably like Matt. As they often do, genes had won out, and in this case for the best. He spoke very openly about his mother's perfidy at one point, and he was obviously upset about it. But he seemed to accept, and even love her as she was. He had a very forgiving heart. Although he referred to the fact that Vanessa was furious with her, and hadn't spoken to her since she found out.

  And by the time she and Pip went back to town, Ophélie felt better again. Matt had put an arm around her several times, and held her hand when they walked on the beach, but he didn't press her, or make it obvious to Pip that something was happening. He wanted to give Ophélie time to adjust. Their relationship, past, present, and future, was of vital importance to him, and he wanted to treat it cautiously, and give her all the time and space she needed to make room for him in her heart.

  He was just about to pick up the phone on Monday night to call her, when it rang before he did. He was hoping it was her. She had looked happy and relaxed the day before, and sounded fine when he called her on Sunday night. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he didn't. He wanted to tell her in person the first time he said it, and not on the phone. But it wasn't Ophélie when he answered, or even Pip. It was Sally, calling from Auckland, and he was terrified when he heard her voice. She was crying. And he thought instantly of his daughter, and was deathly afraid something had happened to her.

  “Sally?” He could hardly understand her, but even after all these years, he knew her voice too well. “What is it? What's wrong?” All he could make out was “keeled over… tennis court …” and then with a sense of relief that was almost sinful, he realized she was talking about her husband, and not their younger child.

  “What? I can't understand you. What happened to Hamish?” And why was she calling him?

  She gave a horrible wrenching sob and then shot the words into the phone. “He's dead. He had a heart attack an hour ago on the tennis court. They tried to revive him, but…he was gone.” She started sobbing again, as Matt listened and stared into space, as the last ten years flashed before his eyes. Her telling him that she was leaving him, and then moving to Auckland. The realization that she had been having an affair with his friend, and had left their marriage for him… and then moving to Auckland with his kids… “Hamish and I are getting married, Matt,” the cannonball she had fired at his chest… and commuting for four years to see his kids, only to have her cut him off from them for the last six… and now she was calling to say Hamish was dead. He didn't even know what he felt, for his old friend turned traitor…for her…or himself…he couldn't even think.

  “Matt? Are you there?” She was talking nonstop and crying in between, something about the funeral, and their children, and did he think Robert should come home for the services, Hamish had been so good to him… and her children from Hamish were so young…He felt overwhelmed.

  “Yes, I'm here.” And then he thought of his son. “Do you want me to call Robert and tell him? If you think it will be too tough on him, I can drive down to Stanford.” It was odd how fate served one well in life at times. One father had just reentered his life in time for another to disappear. It was odd how those things happened.

  “I already called him,” she said bluntly, with little thought for the effect on Robert. That was Sally.

  “How did he take it?” Matt sounded concerned.

  “I don't know. He was crazy about Hamish.”

  “I'll call him,” Matt said quickly, anxious now to hang up.

  “Do you want to come to the funeral?” Sally asked, with no concern whatsoever for the distance, the time involved, or his feelings as usual. If nothing else, Hamish had betrayed him, and damn near destroyed his life, with Sally's help.

  “No, I don't,” he said bluntly.

  “Maybe Vanessa and I will bring the children over for Christmas,” she said wistfully. “I don't think you should come to see her this week, unless you want to come to the funeral with us.” He had been planning to leave for Auckland to see Vanessa on Thursday, after six long, endless, empty years without his kids. But this obviously wasn't the right time.

  “I'll wait. I'll come over as soon as things calm down, unless you send her here.” He said “send her,” not “bring her.” He hadn't liked the implication that Sally would come too. He had no desire to see his exwife again. “You have other things to think about right now,” a funeral to plan, a husband to bury, decisions to make, fresh lives to destroy. His feelings toward her were anything but friendly since her treachery had been exposed by Robert's return. He knew he would never forgive her for what she'd done.

  “I can't even imagine what this is going to do to our business,” she said plaintively. She always had work on her mind, always had. Nothing had changed.

  “That's tough, I know,” he said, sounding bitter, but she didn't hear it. “Just sell it, Sal. I did. No big deal. You'll find something else to do. No point hanging on.” They were almost the identical words she had s
aid to him ten years before. But she no longer remembered them. No matter what incredibly insensitive life-altering comment she made, she never remembered it, or took responsibility for it later on. Other people's feelings and well-being never even appeared on her radar screen.

  “You really think I should sell?” she said seriously, sounding interested, and all he wanted was to hang up and call his son.

  “I have no idea. I have to go now. I'm sorry about Hamish. My condolences to his children. I'll let you know when I'm coming over to see Ness. Tell her I'll call her later myself.” And with that, he hung up.

  He called Robert and got him in his room at Stanford. He wasn't crying, but he sounded subdued and a little forlorn.

  “I'm sorry, son. I know you loved him. I always liked him too,” before he blew the bottom out of my life, Matt thought.

  “I know he screwed up your marriage to Mom, but he was always really good to us. I feel sorry for Mom. She was a mess on the phone.” But not too big a mess to discuss the fate of their business with Matt. Her wheels were always turning to her own advantage. It was just the way she was, and had always been. And at the time, Hamish had been a better deal for her. He had more money, more toys, more houses, he was more fun, so she dumped her husband and moved on. It was still hard to take, and Matt knew it would always be. They had cost him too much, everything he'd ever loved and cared for. His wife, his kids, the business was less important to him, but the rest of it was a loss that could never be replaced. Ten heartbreaking years out of his life.

  “Are you going over for the funeral?” Matt asked him, and Robert hesitated.

  “I should, for Mom, but I've got finals. I talked to Nessie and she thinks Mom'll be okay if I don't. She's got a lot of people with her.” And seven other kids. Four of Hamish's, Vanessa, and two of their own. It was a sizable entourage, although he knew Robert was important to her too. “What do you think, Dad?”

  “That has to be your decision. I can't make it for you. Do you want me to come down to Stanford?” Matt sounded and was deeply concerned for him.

  “That's okay, Dad. I'll be fine. It's just kind of a shock… but not totally. He's had two heart attacks, and two bypass surgeries. And he didn't take great care of himself. Mom always said it would come to this.” He smoked and drank, and had been overweight for years. He was fifty-two years old.

  “I'll come down anytime you want. Just call me. Maybe we can do something this weekend if you're not studying.”

  “I've got study groups all weekend. I'll call. Thanks, Dad.”

  Matt sat quietly for a moment, thinking about it, and called Ophélie. He didn't know why, but he was sad about Hamish, maybe because it affected his children, or maybe because he had once been his friend. He felt less sorry for Sally than he did for him.

  He told Ophélie what had happened, and as he was, she was concerned for Robert, and for a strange female moment, she wondered what Sally's widowhood would mean to Matt. He had loved her once, passionately, and mourned her for the last ten years. And now she was free. It was unlikely anything would ever happen between them, but you never knew. Stranger things had happened. She was only forty-five years old, and she would be looking for a new man. And she had once loved him, enough to marry and have children with him.

  “She said she might bring Vanessa over for Christmas, and to see Robert,” Matt informed her. “I hope she doesn't. I don't want to see her, just my kids.” He was disappointed about not going to Auckland to see Vanessa that week too. But this obviously wasn't the time. There was far too much going on, and Vanessa would be tied up with Hamish's family, her mother, and the other kids. She'd have no time to spend with him, and rightly so. Matt understood. After six years, he knew he could wait another week or two. It was better that way.

  “Why would she come too?” Ophélie asked, sounding concerned.

  “God knows. Maybe just to annoy me,” he said, and laughed. But it had been unsettling talking to her on the phone, and listening to her crying. It didn't move him any closer toward her, it just reminded him of how unhappy she had made him over the years. He had absolutely no idea that Ophélie was suddenly worried about her, and saw her as a potential threat to their budding romance.

  The rest of the week was hectic for both of them. Things were tough on the streets with the holidays approaching. People drugged and drank more, lost jobs, and the weather was cold. They found four dead people in one night in the cribs they checked. As always, it was rugged, heart-wrenching work.

  Matt drove down to Robert to see him. And he talked to Vanessa on the phone. And for no reason he could fathom, in the midst of all she had to do, Sally called him several times just to talk. He did not want to be her best friend, and he complained about it to Ophélie.

  The only moment of peace for all of them was a sunny Sunday afternoon at the beach. She and Pip drove out to see Matt. Robert couldn't make it, he was still studying for exams. And Christmas was in less than two weeks.

  The three of them took a long walk on the beach and Matt told Ophélie about the house he'd rented in Tahoe from Christmas till just after New Year's. He was going to go to Tahoe with Robert to ski, and he was hoping Vanessa would fly over too.

  “Is Sally still thinking of coming?” she asked, sounding unconcerned, but wasn't. It surprised even her that the reappearance of his ex-wife bothered her so much, but it did. Particularly now that she was widowed too. Although even Ophélie realized it was more paranoia on her part, than anything real. Matt seemed in no way interested in her, but you never knew. Stranger things happened. Much stranger. Like her husband having a baby with her best friend. It had altered all her points of view.

  “God knows. I don't care. I'll have someone drive Nessie up to Tahoe, if she comes. I have no intention of seeing Sally, if she's here,” which reassured Ophélie at least. “I'd love you and Pip to come up too. What are you doing for Christmas?” It was a sore subject for her this year, even more than it had been the year before.

  “I don't know yet. Our family seems to get smaller and smaller. Last year we spent it with Andrea.” She'd been five months pregnant then. The thought of it made Ophélie shudder now, knowing that the baby was Ted's, and the travesty Andrea's friendship had been. “I think Pip and I will just spend it quietly. Maybe it would be nice to come up to Tahoe the day after. I think we should be alone together on Christmas Day.” He nodded, not wanting to intrude on her and Pip. He knew how sensitive she was about that, and it was a bittersweet time for them, full of memories that needed to be honored, however painful. “It would be nice to have something to look forward to the day after.” She smiled up at him, and Pip was so far up the beach that he bent his face down to hers and they kissed. And as he did, he felt a jolt of electricity run through him, which he instantly suppressed. He wanted more of her, but too much had been happening in the past few weeks, and he didn't want to rush his fences with her, or scare her off. They were proceeding with great caution, and no speed. He knew she still had a lot of trepidation about getting involved with him. She was not at all sure yet if she wanted to forge ahead. He had only kissed her a few times by then, and he was willing to wait, however long it took. Although he was aware that the passion he felt for her distracted him. He was equally well aware of all the trauma she'd been through, especially recently. And in spite of it, he could feel desire mounting in her too. Whatever reservations she had, she seemed to be growing ever closer to him.

  They talked to Pip about Tahoe when she walked back to them, and she loved the idea. And by the time they left that day, Ophélie had agreed. And Matt had tried to extract yet another promise from her.

  “I only want one thing for Christmas from you,” he said seriously, as they sat by the fire in his living room before she and Pip left.

  “And what's that?” She was smiling at him. Pip already had his gift, and Ophélie still had to shop for him.

  “I want you to resign from the outreach team.” He was serious, and she sighed as she looked at hi
m. He had come to mean so much to her, but she still didn't know what to do about it, when, or if. She felt strongly about him, but her feelings were in constant conflict with her fears. But he wasn't asking for answers or promises. He never put pressure on her, except about this, which he did constantly.

  “You know I can't do that, Matt, it's important to me. And to them. I know how right it is for me. And it's hard to get people to work on that team.”

  “You know why?” he said, looking unhappy. “Because most people are smart enough to be scared out of their wits, and won't do it.” It had occurred to him more than once that maybe one of her reasons for doing it was some kind of subliminal suicide wish. But whatever her reasons, he was determined to prevail eventually, and get her to quit. He didn't mind her working at the Center, but he didn't want her on the streets. It wasn't a question of not respecting her, but of saving her from herself, and her altruistic ideas. “Ophélie, I'm serious. I want you to give that up, for your sake, and Pip's. If those people are crazy enough to do it, let them, you can help the homeless in other ways. You owe it to yourself to quit.”

  “Nothing is as effective as what the outreach guys do. They go to them where they are, give them what they need. The really desperate cases are in no shape to come in for us to help them. We have to go to them,” she said, always trying to convince him, as he did her. It was an insoluble battle between them, and she'd been unwavering about it. But he kept trying, and intended to continue to do so. “What you don't realize is that they're not bad guys out there or criminals. They're sad, needy, broken people, in desperate need of help. Some of them are just kids, and old people. I can't walk away from them and figure someone else will do it. If I don't, who will? So many of them are really decent and I have a responsibility to them. What else do you want for Christmas?” she asked, as much to change the subject as because she needed ideas, but all he did was shake his head.