Safe Harbour

For a crazy instant, he was tempted to ask her what her father had really been like. In spite of everything Ophélie had said, he couldn't get a clear picture of Ted. The only portrait of him he could paint in his mind's eye was of a difficult, probably selfish tyrant, who may have been a genius, but more than likely wasn't very nice to his wife. Yet Ophélie had clearly worshiped him and made him sound like a saint now. But pieces of the puzzle didn't seem to fit. Particularly in his relationship with his son. And Matt didn't have the feeling he'd spent much time with Pip, she had almost said as much, in incidents she talked about, and stories she told. And it didn't sound as though he'd spent much time with his wife either. It was hard to get a clear picture. Particularly now that he was dead, and the normal tendency was to forget the unpleasant parts, and improve the rest. But he didn't want to put Pip on the spot.

“When do you go back to school?” he said finally.

“In two weeks. The day after we go back.”

“You'll be busy then,” he said reassuringly, but she looked sad anyway.

“Can I call you sometimes?” Pip asked, and he smiled.

“I'd like that very much.” She had been a gift to him, and she soothed a place in him that had been raw for a long time. She did something magical to fill the gaping hole in him his own kids had left. And he did the same for her. He was, in some ways, the father she had never had, and wished she did. Ted was an entirely different beast.

She left him after he packed up his things, and she walked back up the beach. Andrea was just leaving when she got home.

“How was Matt?” her mother asked pleasantly, as Pip kissed Andrea and the baby good-bye.

“Fine. He said to say hello to you.”

“Remember what I said,” Andrea reminded her, and Ophélie laughed.

“I told you. Mr. Feigenbaum is the answer.”

“Don't count on it. Guys like that marry their wives' sisters or best friends within six months. You'll still be trying to decide what to do long after he's remarried. It's a shame he's so old.”

“You're disgusting,” Ophélie said as she hugged her friend and kissed the baby, and then they left.

“Who's Mr. Feigenbaum?” Pip asked, curious. She'd never heard his name before.

“A man in my group. He's eighty-three years old and he's looking for a new wife.”

Pip's eyes opened wide. “Does he want to marry you?”

“No, he doesn't. And I don't want to marry him either. So everything's fine.” Pip had a sudden urge to ask her if she would ever marry Matt. She wished she would one day, but after what her mother had said recently, she knew there wasn't much chance of it. Probably none at all. But at least he had said he would visit them in town, and she really hoped he would.

Pip and her mother had a quiet dinner that night, and Pip mentioned to her that Matt had said he might call sometimes.

“He wanted to know if it was all right with you.”

“I don't see why not,” Ophélie said quietly. He seemed trustworthy and had proven himself as a friend. She had no qualms about it now, even though Andrea still referred to him as “the child molester,” but she had no concerns about that. “I think that would be nice. Maybe he'd like to have dinner with us sometime.”

“He said he'd take us out to dinner and a movie when he comes to the city.”

“That sounds like fun,” Ophélie said, not thinking about it much as she put the dishes in the dishwasher and Pip turned on the TV. Friendship with Matt wasn't what Andrea wanted for her, but it suited Ophélie. Their summer in Safe Harbour had been a success, and she and Pip had made a new friend.

10

IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF THEIR LAST WEEK WHEN Matt called Ophélie about sailing with him, on a brilliantly sunny day. They had just had two days of fog, and everyone was relieved to see a last burst of summer. As it turned out, it was the hottest day of the year. So much so that Pip and Ophélie had both gotten too hot, and had decided to go inside for lunch. They were just finishing the sandwiches Ophélie had made when Matt called. And Pip looked half asleep in the heat. She had been thinking about walking down to see Matt, but it was almost too hot to go, and the sun was blazing overhead. It was going to be the first day in a long time that she'd missed with him. But she didn't think he'd be outside painting either. It was a good day to swim, or sail, as Matt said himself when he called Ophélie.

“I've been meaning to ask you for weeks,” Matt said apologetically. He couldn't explain to her that he'd been too busy sketching Pip for her portrait. “It's so hot, I thought I'd take the boat out this afternoon. Can I interest you in a sail?” It sounded like a great idea to her too. It was too hot to sit on the deck, or the beach, and at least on the ocean, there would be a breeze. The wind had started to come up in the last hour, which was what had given him the idea. He'd been in the house all day, drawing Pip, from memory, photographs, and sketches he'd made of her on the beach.