Safe Harbour

“We loved her too,” Ophélie said gently. And when Pip went upstairs to do her homework, she looked at Matt sadly. “I'm sorry about what happened in Tahoe.” It was the first time either of them had mentioned it. He hadn't wanted to embarrass her by referring to it, nor to press her. He thought it was better left unspoken between them. “I shouldn't have done that. In French, you call that being an allumeuse. I think there's a much more unattractive word for it in English. But it's not a nice thing to be. I wasn't trying to tease you, or fool you. I think if anything, I fooled me. I thought I was ready, and I wasn't.”

He didn't like talking to her about it, he was afraid that even doing that would push her to extreme conclusions. And he didn't want to close any doors between them. He wanted to leave them wide open, and give her the chance to come through them when she was ready. Whenever that happened, if it did, he'd be waiting for her. And in the meantime, all he could do was love her as best he could, even if the relationship was limited. “You didn't fool anyone, Ophélie. Time is a funny thing. You can't define it, can't buy it, can't predict its effect on people. Some people need more, some less. Take whatever time you need.”

“And if I never get there?” she asked him sadly. She was afraid she might not. The depth of her fears, and their paralyzing effect, had frightened her.

“If you never get there, I love you anyway,” he assured her, which was all she needed to hear. As always, he made her feel safe, unpressured, unharried. Being with Matt was always like a long, peaceful walk on the beach. It rested her soul. “Don't torture yourself. You have enough other things to worry about. Don't add me to that list. I'm fine.” He smiled at her, and leaned across the table to kiss her on the lips, and she didn't resist. In fact, she welcomed it. In her heart of hearts, she loved him, she just didn't know what to do about it yet. If she loved anyone, and allowed herself to live again, she knew it would be Matt. But she recognized the possibility that Ted might have ended her life as a woman for good. He didn't deserve to have that power over her, but much as she hated to admit it to herself, he still did. He had destroyed some essential part of her she could no longer find or retrieve. Like a sock that had gotten lost. But the sock was filled with love and trust. And she had no idea where it was. Gone, it would seem. Ted had thrown it away. He hadn't even taken it with him. She kept wondering what she had meant to him, and if he had loved her when he died. Or ever. And she would never know the answers. All she had left now were the questions.

“What are you up to tonight?” Matt asked her before he left.

She started to tell him and then hesitated as their eyes met. From the look on her face he knew, and hated it.

“The outreach team?”

“Yes,” she said, putting their cups in the sink. She didn't want to argue about it with him.

“God, I wish you'd stop doing that. I don't know what it's going to take to convince you. One of these days, Ophélie, something terrible is going to happen. I just don't want it to happen to you. They've been lucky, but they can't be lucky forever. Your exposure is too great, and so is theirs. You're out there two nights a week. Sooner or later the odds will get you, if nothing else.”

“I'll be all right,” she tried to reassure him, but as always, he was unconvinced.

He left at five, and a few minutes later, Alice came to baby-sit for Pip. It was routine by now. Ophélie had been doing it since September, and she felt completely confident about it, unlike Matt, who had constant forebodings of disaster. But Ophélie didn't share them. She knew the team well, and how capable they were. They were always sensible and cautious. They were cowboys, as they said themselves, but cowboys who knew their way around the streets, and watched their backs, and hers. And she had grown skilled at what she was doing too. She was no longer an innocent on the streets.

By seven o'clock, she was in the van, with Bob driving, and Jeff and Millie in the other van. They had added more supplies for their route, a number of food items, more medical supplies, warm clothes, condoms, and there was a wholesaler donating down jackets to them regularly. The vans were loaded that night, and the night was bitter cold. Bob told her with a grin that she should have worn long johns.

“So how's by you?” he chatted amiably, as they always did. “How was Christmas?”

“Pretty good. The day was tough.” They had both been through it, and he nodded. “But we went to Tahoe the day after. We went skiing with friends. It was fun.”