Safe Harbour (33 page)

“I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time,” she promised apologetically, focusing more diligently again. She had been thinking about Matt.

“You better be careful. What's happening with you? You look like you're in love.” He knew, because he was. He was having a great time with his late wife's best friend. Ophélie looked at him and smiled as she swung into the van. He was right. She'd been out of it all night. She'd been thinking about Matt. And had been all day. Their kiss the night before had both delighted and rattled her. It was everything she wanted in some ways, and in others the one thing she didn't want at all. Vulnerability. Openness. Love. Pain. All of which had brought her to her knees when Ted died, and nearly killed her when she found Andrea's letter. For a moment, she thought it had. Now, more than anything, she was numb, as she tried to sort out what she felt. About Ted, Andrea, herself, and now Matt. It was a lot to absorb and try to understand. And at the same time it was so tempting to let herself free-fall into his arms and life.

“I don't know. Maybe,” she said honestly, as they headed toward Hunters Point. It was late in their night, when it was usually safer there. By then, a lot of the troublemakers had gone to bed, and the neighborhood had calmed down.

“There's a news flash,” he said with a look of interest. He had come to respect her and like her a lot in the nearly three months they'd worked together. She was smart and honest and solid and real, without artifice or arrogance. There was a simplicity and earnestness about her that had won his heart.

“I hope he's a good guy. That's what you deserve,” he said sincerely.

“Thanks, Bob,” she said, and smiled. She seemed uninclined to talk about it, and he didn't press her. They had an easygoing relationship and solid understanding of each other's rhythms. Sometimes they talked about serious matters. Sometimes they didn't. They were like police partners, they were compatible, respectful of each other, and trusted each other completely. Their lives depended on it. But she paid closer attention, and “watched her back,” as he put it, at the next stop and for the rest of the night.

But she realized as she drove home that night that she was worried about Matt. About what she was doing, and the door that had opened. More than anything, she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship, and a romance, if it went awry, might. She didn't want to risk that for him, or herself, or even more importantly for Pip. If she and Matt got involved romantically, and made a mess of it, it could spoil it all, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Even Pip noticed that she looked quiet and pensive the next morning in the car on the way to school.

“Something wrong, Mom?” she asked as she turned the radio on, and Ophélie winced at the volume, as she always did. It was a raucous way to start the morning. Pip worried less about her mother's moods these days. Whatever else happened, she seemed to recover from the bad days sooner. Although she still didn't know what had happened on Thanksgiving. All she knew was that it had something to do with Andrea. Her mother had told her that they wouldn't be seeing her again. Pip was shocked. But Ophélie refused to answer any questions. And when Pip asked her, “Ever?” Ophélie confirmed it. Ever.

“No, I'm okay,” Ophélie answered, but she didn't look convincing. And she had to struggle for concentration all that day at the Center. Even Miriam at the front desk commented on it. And when Matt called, he could hear it.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding worried.

“I think so,” she said honestly, which didn't reassure him. Her uncertainty was unnerving.

“What does that mean? Should I panic?” She smiled in answer.

“No, don't panic. I'm just scared, I think.” She wasn't sure if it was a timing or adjustment issue for her, or something deeper.

“What are you scared of?” He wanted to air it with her, so she'd feel better. He had been floating on air since he kissed her on her birthday. It was just exactly what he wanted, and hadn't known it. Although for a while now he'd been aware of his growing feelings for her, which were not by any means as casual as he'd pretended.

“Are you kidding? I'm scared of you, me, life, fate, destiny, good things, bad things… disappointment, betrayal, your dying, my dying…do you want me to go on?”

“No, that ought to do it. For now at least. You can save the rest till you see me. We can spend all day on it then.” It sounded like it was going to take that long. And then he got serious with her. He was sorry that she was so afraid, and wanted to share his sense of confidence with her. “What can I do to reassure you?” he asked gently, and she sighed.

“I'm not sure you can. Give me time. I just lost the last of my illusions about my marriage. I'm not sure I can handle much more than that. This may not be the right time.” His heart sank at her words.

“Will you at least give us a chance? Don't make any decisions yet. We have a right to be happy, both of us. Let's not blow it to bits before we start. Will you do that?”

“I'll try.” It was all she could do. In her heart of hearts, she thought he might be better off with someone else. Someone simpler, and who had been less brutally hurt than she had been, and again recently. At times, she felt so damaged. Yet with him she always felt peaceful, whole, and safe, which said a lot.

He came to town and had dinner with her and Pip that weekend, and on Sunday she and Pip drove out to the beach to see him. Robert had come up for the day from Stanford, and Matt was anxious for them to meet. Ophélie was enormously impressed. He was a lovely boy, and in spite of the years they had missed together, he was remarkably like Matt. As they often do, genes had won out, and in this case for the best. He spoke very openly about his mother's perfidy at one point, and he was obviously upset about it. But he seemed to accept, and even love her as she was. He had a very forgiving heart. Although he referred to the fact that Vanessa was furious with her, and hadn't spoken to her since she found out.

And by the time she and Pip went back to town, Ophélie felt better again. Matt had put an arm around her several times, and held her hand when they walked on the beach, but he didn't press her, or make it obvious to Pip that something was happening. He wanted to give Ophélie time to adjust. Their relationship, past, present, and future, was of vital importance to him, and he wanted to treat it cautiously, and give her all the time and space she needed to make room for him in her heart.

He was just about to pick up the phone on Monday night to call her, when it rang before he did. He was hoping it was her. She had looked happy and relaxed the day before, and sounded fine when he called her on Sunday night. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he didn't. He wanted to tell her in person the first time he said it, and not on the phone. But it wasn't Ophélie when he answered, or even Pip. It was Sally, calling from Auckland, and he was terrified when he heard her voice. She was crying. And he thought instantly of his daughter, and was deathly afraid something had happened to her.

“Sally?” He could hardly understand her, but even after all these years, he knew her voice too well. “What is it? What's wrong?” All he could make out was “keeled over… tennis court …” and then with a sense of relief that was almost sinful, he realized she was talking about her husband, and not their younger child.

“What? I can't understand you. What happened to Hamish?” And why was she calling him?

She gave a horrible wrenching sob and then shot the words into the phone. “He's dead. He had a heart attack an hour ago on the tennis court. They tried to revive him, but…he was gone.” She started sobbing again, as Matt listened and stared into space, as the last ten years flashed before his eyes. Her telling him that she was leaving him, and then moving to Auckland. The realization that she had been having an affair with his friend, and had left their marriage for him… and then moving to Auckland with his kids… “Hamish and I are getting married, Matt,” the cannonball she had fired at his chest… and commuting for four years to see his kids, only to have her cut him off from them for the last six… and now she was calling to say Hamish was dead. He didn't even know what he felt, for his old friend turned traitor…for her…or himself…he couldn't even think.

“Matt? Are you there?” She was talking nonstop and crying in between, something about the funeral, and their children, and did he think Robert should come home for the services, Hamish had been so good to him… and her children from Hamish were so young…He felt overwhelmed.

“Yes, I'm here.” And then he thought of his son. “Do you want me to call Robert and tell him? If you think it will be too tough on him, I can drive down to Stanford.” It was odd how fate served one well in life at times. One father had just reentered his life in time for another to disappear. It was odd how those things happened.

“I already called him,” she said bluntly, with little thought for the effect on Robert. That was Sally.

“How did he take it?” Matt sounded concerned.

“I don't know. He was crazy about Hamish.”

“I'll call him,” Matt said quickly, anxious now to hang up.

“Do you want to come to the funeral?” Sally asked, with no concern whatsoever for the distance, the time involved, or his feelings as usual. If nothing else, Hamish had betrayed him, and damn near destroyed his life, with Sally's help.

“No, I don't,” he said bluntly.

“Maybe Vanessa and I will bring the children over for Christmas,” she said wistfully. “I don't think you should come to see her this week, unless you want to come to the funeral with us.” He had been planning to leave for Auckland to see Vanessa on Thursday, after six long, endless, empty years without his kids. But this obviously wasn't the right time.

“I'll wait. I'll come over as soon as things calm down, unless you send her here.” He said “send her,” not “bring her.” He hadn't liked the implication that Sally would come too. He had no desire to see his exwife again. “You have other things to think about right now,” a funeral to plan, a husband to bury, decisions to make, fresh lives to destroy. His feelings toward her were anything but friendly since her treachery had been exposed by Robert's return. He knew he would never forgive her for what she'd done.

“I can't even imagine what this is going to do to our business,” she said plaintively. She always had work on her mind, always had. Nothing had changed.

“That's tough, I know,” he said, sounding bitter, but she didn't hear it. “Just sell it, Sal. I did. No big deal. You'll find something else to do. No point hanging on.” They were almost the identical words she had said to him ten years before. But she no longer remembered them. No matter what incredibly insensitive life-altering comment she made, she never remembered it, or took responsibility for it later on. Other people's feelings and well-being never even appeared on her radar screen.

“You really think I should sell?” she said seriously, sounding interested, and all he wanted was to hang up and call his son.

“I have no idea. I have to go now. I'm sorry about Hamish. My condolences to his children. I'll let you know when I'm coming over to see Ness. Tell her I'll call her later myself.” And with that, he hung up.

He called Robert and got him in his room at Stanford. He wasn't crying, but he sounded subdued and a little forlorn.

“I'm sorry, son. I know you loved him. I always liked him too,” before he blew the bottom out of my life, Matt thought.

“I know he screwed up your marriage to Mom, but he was always really good to us. I feel sorry for Mom. She was a mess on the phone.” But not too big a mess to discuss the fate of their business with Matt. Her wheels were always turning to her own advantage. It was just the way she was, and had always been. And at the time, Hamish had been a better deal for her. He had more money, more toys, more houses, he was more fun, so she dumped her husband and moved on. It was still hard to take, and Matt knew it would always be. They had cost him too much, everything he'd ever loved and cared for. His wife, his kids, the business was less important to him, but the rest of it was a loss that could never be replaced. Ten heartbreaking years out of his life.

“Are you going over for the funeral?” Matt asked him, and Robert hesitated.

“I should, for Mom, but I've got finals. I talked to Nessie and she thinks Mom'll be okay if I don't. She's got a lot of people with her.” And seven other kids. Four of Hamish's, Vanessa, and two of their own. It was a sizable entourage, although he knew Robert was important to her too. “What do you think, Dad?”

“That has to be your decision. I can't make it for you. Do you want me to come down to Stanford?” Matt sounded and was deeply concerned for him.

“That's okay, Dad. I'll be fine. It's just kind of a shock… but not totally. He's had two heart attacks, and two bypass surgeries. And he didn't take great care of himself. Mom always said it would come to this.” He smoked and drank, and had been overweight for years. He was fifty-two years old.

“I'll come down anytime you want. Just call me. Maybe we can do something this weekend if you're not studying.”

“I've got study groups all weekend. I'll call. Thanks, Dad.”

Matt sat quietly for a moment, thinking about it, and called Ophélie. He didn't know why, but he was sad about Hamish, maybe because it affected his children, or maybe because he had once been his friend. He felt less sorry for Sally than he did for him.

He told Ophélie what had happened, and as he was, she was concerned for Robert, and for a strange female moment, she wondered what Sally's widowhood would mean to Matt. He had loved her once, passionately, and mourned her for the last ten years. And now she was free. It was unlikely anything would ever happen between them, but you never knew. Stranger things had happened. She was only forty-five years old, and she would be looking for a new man. And she had once loved him, enough to marry and have children with him.

“She said she might bring Vanessa over for Christmas, and to see Robert,” Matt informed her. “I hope she doesn't. I don't want to see her, just my kids.” He was disappointed about not going to Auckland to see Vanessa that week too. But this obviously wasn't the time. There was far too much going on, and Vanessa would be tied up with Hamish's family, her mother, and the other kids. She'd have no time to spend with him, and rightly so. Matt understood. After six years, he knew he could wait another week or two. It was better that way.