Safe Harbour

“So would I in your shoes. It would have been weird if you didn't, Pip. Half your family disappeared.” And what was left didn't even feel like one, but out of loyalty to her mother, she didn't say anything.

“My mom was really sorry about the things she said the other day.” Pip was still embarrassed about the way her mother had behaved.

“It's all right,” he said calmly, “she was right in some ways. I really am a stranger, and you don't know much about me. I could have been trying to fool you or do something bad to you, just as she said. She was right to be suspicious of me, and you should have been too.”

“Why? You were nice to me, and you helped me draw Moussy's hind legs. That was a nice thing to do. I still have the picture of him in my room.”

“How does it look?” he teased.

“Pretty good.” She grinned. And when he finished his sandwich, she handed him the apple. He cut it in half, and handed the better half back to her. “I always knew you were a good person, right from the first time I saw you.”

“How did you know?” He looked amused.

“I just knew. You have nice eyes.” She didn't tell him that she was touched when he looked sad, when he talked about his kids being so far away. She liked that about him too. It would have been worse if he didn't care about them.

“You have nice eyes too. I'd like to draw you one day. Maybe even paint you. What do you think of that?” He had been thinking about it since they met.

“I think my mom would like it a lot. Maybe I could give it to her for her birthday.”

“When's that?” He wasn't her mother's greatest fan yet, but he would have done it for Pip. Besides, he wanted to do a portrait of her. She was a remarkable little girl, and now his friend.

“December tenth,” she said solemnly.

“And when's yours?” he asked with interest. He always wanted to know more about her. She reminded him so much of his daughter Vanessa. And aside from that, he admired her, she was a spunky little kid. Even more than he had first thought, if she had managed to convince her mother to let her come back down the beach to visit him, and even dragged her along to apologize the day before. That was a major feat. The woman he had seen on Sunday looked like she never apologized, except at gunpoint maybe. In this case, Pip had held the gun.

“My birthday is in October.” Not long after her brother and father died.

“How was your last one?” he asked conversationally.

“My mom and I went out to dinner.” She didn't tell him it was abysmal. Her mother had almost forgotten it, and there had been no party or cake. It was her first birthday since her father and Chad had died, and it had been horrible. She couldn't wait for it to end.

“Do you and your mom go out a lot?”

“No. We used to. Before. My dad liked taking us to restaurants. But it always takes too long. I get bored,” she admitted easily.

“That's hard to believe. You don't look bored to me.”

“I'm not when I'm with you,” she said graciously. “I like drawing with you.”

“I like drawing with you too.” And with that, he handed her pencil and sketch pad, and she decided to draw a bird, one of the bold seagulls that swooped down next to them whenever possible, and then flew away instantly as Mousse began to chase them. It was hard doing a seagull, she discovered. And after a while, she switched to boats again. But just in the few times she'd been with him, her drawing had improved. She was getting good, as long as she liked what she was drawing, but that was true for him too.

They sat for hours in the sunshine, it was another golden day at Safe Harbour. And she was in no rush to go home. She was glad she didn't have to lie about it anymore. She could tell the truth, that she'd been drawing with him on the beach. It was four-thirty when she finally got up. Mousse had been lying quietly next to her for once, and he got up too.

“Are you two heading back?” Matt asked with a warm smile, and as she looked at him, she realized that he looked more like her father than ever when he smiled, although her father hadn't smiled very often. He'd been a very serious man, probably because he was so smart. Everyone said he was a genius, and Pip suspected it was true. It made people accept the way he behaved, which was nice for him. Sometimes it seemed to her that her father was allowed to say and do anything he wanted.

“My mom comes home around this time. She's usually pretty tired after she goes to group. Sometimes she just walks in, and falls asleep on her bed.”

“It must be pretty rough.”

“I don't know. She doesn't talk about it. Maybe people cry a lot.” It was a depressing thought. “I'll come back tomorrow or Thursday, if that's okay with you.” She had never asked him before, but they had more leeway now.