Safe Harbour

The kids skied all afternoon, and Matt and Ophélie enjoyed one long run. And when it started to snow, they went home. Matt lit the fire and put the music on, and Ophélie made them both hot toddies with rum. They settled back on the couch with a stack of magazines and books, and looked up and smiled at each other from time to time. Ophélie was amazed by how easy it was to be with him. Ted had been so much more difficult and demanding, and anxious and argumentative about nearly everything. She commented on the difference to Matt. Their match was a blend of comfort, barely concealed passion, and deep affection. And in addition, they were best friends.

“I like this too,” he said easily, and he decided to tell her then about the last time he'd seen Sally.

“You didn't feel anything for her?” Ophélie asked, taking a sip of the hot rum and watching him for clues. She had been worried about Sally for a while, particularly since she'd been widowed.

“A lot less than I expected to, or was afraid I would. I was afraid I would have to fight her off, in my head if nowhere else. And it wasn't like that. It seemed sad and funny, and everything that had always been wrong between us. All she wanted was to manipulate me to get what she wanted, and instead of being in love with her, I felt sorry for her. She's a very sad woman. Not to mention the fact that her husband of nearly ten years had been dead for less than a month. Loyalty isn't one of Sally's strong suits.”

“I guess not.” Ophélie was a little shocked by the brazenness of what she'd done, after all the pain she had caused him. But she didn't seem to suffer from guilt either. Most of all, Ophélie was relieved. “Why didn't you tell me you'd seen her?” He told her so many things about his life that it seemed odd that he hadn't.

“I think I needed to sort it out after it happened. But I walked out of that room a free man, for the first time in ten years. Going to see her was one of the best things I've ever done.” He looked pleased with himself, as he looked at Ophélie, and she smiled at him.

“I'm glad,” Ophélie said quietly, wishing that her own feelings about her marriage could be as easily resolved. But there was no one to see, no one to talk to, no one to rail at, or argue with, or cry on, or explain to her why it had happened, or why he had done what he'd done. The only choice she had was to resolve it herself, with time, in solitude and silence.

When the kids came home from skiing, Ophélie cooked dinner that night, and then they all sat around telling stories by the fire. Vanessa talked about her many boyfriends in Auckland, while Pip looked at her admiringly, and Robert teased them both. It was a comfortable family scene that touched both of the adults' hearts. It was what Matt had longed for, for all the years that his children had been gone, and what Ophélie missed so much now that Ted and Chad were gone. There was a wholeness to it, a normalcy that came from being two adults, surrounded by three children, laughing and sitting by a fire. It was what neither of them had ever really had in their previous lives, but always wanted.

“Nice, isn't it?” Matt smiled at her, as they met in the kitchen, while she put some cookies on a plate for the kids, and he poured a glass of wine for Ophélie and himself.

“Very nice,” she said, smiling at him. By most of the world's standards, and even theirs, it was a dream come true. And all Matt wanted was for it to last forever. He knew she had issues to wrestle with, and fears to overcome, just as he did, but he wanted them both to come to the same conclusions and find each other at the end. But he was ever cautious with her. He knew how skittish she was. Better than anyone. Because he knew, or at least as much as she did, what Ted had done. It was almost as bad as if he had put a curse on her, or damned her, or condemned her to distrust for the rest of her life. And no one knew better than Matt what a curse that was. But at least they were free of it for the moment, in their safe little world in Tahoe.

They went to a nearby restaurant for dinner on New Year's Eve, and then stopped in at a hotel to see the festivities there. People were wearing ski clothes and big, bright sweaters, and only a few, like Ophélie, were wearing fur. She looked very chic in a black velvet jumpsuit, with a black fox jacket over it, and a matching hat.

“You look like a black mushroom, Mom,” Pip said to her mother with a disapproving look. But Vanessa pronounced the outfit “cool.” And Ophélie would have worn it anyway. She was impervious to Pip's more conservative fashion advice, and Matt loved the way she looked. No matter what she wore, or how well she spoke English, Ophélie always looked very French. It was either a scarf she wore, or a pair of earrings, or an old Hermès bag on a strap over her shoulder that she had owned since she was nineteen. But somehow the bits and pieces she extracted from her closet, and the way she wore them, always gave her nationality away.