Safe Harbour

“Yes, it will!” she shouted at both of them, sounding eleven years old for once. She had a right to. It was a nasty cut, and had bled a lot. “I don't want stitches!” she said, burying her face against her mother.

“We'll do something fun afterward, I promise,” Matt said, looking at Ophélie, and wondering if he should leave. He didn't want to intrude. But she seemed grateful to have him there, and so was Pip. He had a calming influence on both of them. He was a patient, easygoing person, and it showed at times like this.

“Is there a doctor here?” Ophélie asked, looking worried.

“There's a clinic behind the grocery store. With a nurse. She sewed me up last year. How do you feel about that? Otherwise, we can drive her into the city. I don't mind taking you if you'd like.”

“Why don't we take her to the clinic, and see what the nurse says.”

Pip whimpered a little on the way there, and Matt told her funny stories and distracted them both, which was a relief. And as soon as the nurse saw it, she agreed with Matt and Ophélie. And she did just what Matt had said she would. She gave Pip a shot to numb it, and then neatly stitched it up. She had seven stitches, and a huge bandage to cover it, and she had to stay off the foot for several days, and come back to get the stitches out in a week. Matt carried her back to the car afterward, and she looked worn out from the ordeal.

“Can I take you both out to lunch?” Matt offered, as they drove through the tiny town, but Pip said weakly that she felt kind of sick, and they decided to drive home. Once there, he laid her gently on the couch. Her mother turned on the TV for her, and five minutes later, she was sound asleep.

“Poor kid, that was a nasty one. I knew it the minute I saw it. She was very brave.”

“Thank you for being so good to us,” Ophélie said gratefully, as Matt thought it was hard to believe she was the same woman who had read him the riot act on the beach. This one was a gentle soul, with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, much like Pip's. There was the same waiflike quality to her. And it made him want to put his arms around her too. Everything she had been through and suffered was in her eyes and on her face. But in spite of it, he couldn't help noticing that she was a beautiful woman, and looked surprisingly young for her age.

“I have to confess,” he said with a look of concern, but he wanted to tell her first, and take the brunt of her anger, if there was any. “I took her into my house to clean the foot. We were only there for five minutes, and then I brought her back to you. I wouldn't have done it otherwise, but I wanted to get some water on the foot, and she was bleeding all over the place, so I needed something to wrap it up.”

“It's lucky you were there. I understand. Thank you for telling me.”

“I thought about bringing her straight here, knowing how you'd feel about it, but I wanted to take a good look at the cut. It was uglier than I thought.”

“Yes, it was.” She had felt sick herself as she watched the nurse stitch it up. She had felt that way when Chad had cut his head too. And that had been such an upsetting day. This had been far simpler, and thanks to Matt, they had gotten her to the clinic quickly, and he had kept Pip amused and distracted all the way. She could see now what Pip saw in him. He was a remarkably nice person. “Thank you for being so kind. You made it a lot easier for her. And for me.”

“I'm just sorry it happened. It's so dangerous to leave glass on the beach. I always pick it up when I see it. It leads to things like this.” He glanced over at Pip, and smiled as he watched her sleep.

“Can I offer you something to eat?” she asked graciously, and he hesitated. They had been through enough that morning.

“You must be tired. It's always hard to watch when kids get hurt.” He was feeling a little worn out too. It had been an emotional morning.

“I'm fine. Why don't I make some sandwiches? It won't take me a minute.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. Would you like a glass of wine?” He declined and settled for a Coke, and she put out a plate of sandwiches a few minutes later. In spite of her constant lethargy these days, she seemed calm and efficient. And they sat down facing each other at the kitchen table.

“Pip tells me you're French, although you can't even hear it. You speak amazingly good English.”

“I learned it as a child in school, and I've been here for more than half my life. I came here to college as a foreign student, and married one of my professors.”

“What did you come to study?”

“I was a pre-med student. But I never went on to med school. I got married right after graduation.” She didn't mention that she'd gone to Radcliffe, which would have seemed pretentious to her.

“Are you sorry you didn't go on to med school?” he asked with interest. Like her daughter, she was an intriguing woman.

“Never. I don't think I'd have been a very good doctor. I got squeamish just now watching the nurse sew up Pip's foot.”