Danielle Steel - Safe Harbour

“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.

“That sounds great,” Ophélie said enthusiastically. She still hadn't seen his boat, although she knew he was immensely fond of it, and had promised to take her sailing before she left. “Where do you keep her?”

“I have her moored at a private dock at a house on the lagoon side, just down from you. The owners are never there, and they don't mind the boat. They say it adds charm to the place when they're here. They moved to Washington last year. It worked out well for me.” He gave her the house number, and told her he'd meet her there in ten minutes. She told Pip what she was doing, and was surprised when Pip looked upset.

“Will you be okay, Mom?” Pip asked worriedly. “Is it safe? How big is the boat?” Listening to her, and seeing the look in her eyes, Ophélie was touched. It was exactly how she felt about her. Everything seemed more ominous now, which was why she'd been so upset earlier in the summer, when Pip disappeared down the beach. All they had now was each other. And danger was no longer an abstract concept to them. It was real. And tragedy a possibility they both knew existed. It had changed life forever for both of them. “I don't want you to go,” Pip said in a frightened voice, as Ophélie tried to decide what to do. They couldn't live in fear forever either. Maybe it was a good idea to show her that they could lead normal lives, and nothing terrible would happen. She felt no danger whatsoever about going out on the boat with Matt. And she was certain he was a supremely competent sailor. They had talked a lot about sailing. And he'd done a lot of it since he was a boy. Far more so than she. She hadn't been sailing herself in at least a dozen years. But she had some experience too, in far more treacherous waters than these.

“Sweetheart, I really think it will be fine. You can watch us from the deck.” Pip did not look reassured, but more like she was going to cry. “Do you really not want me to go?” It was an element she hadn't even considered when she told him she would. And she was going to ask Amy to come over. She had just seen her go into her house, so she knew she was home. Or Pip could even go there for a few hours, if Amy had things to do.

“What if you drown?” Pip asked in a strangled voice, and Ophélie sat down and pulled her gently onto her lap.

“I'm not going to drown. I'm a good swimmer. And so is Matt. I'll ask him for a life vest if you want.” Pip considered it for a moment and then nodded, reassured.

“Okay.” She looked slightly mollified and then visibly panicked again. “What if a shark attacks the boat?” Ophélie couldn't deny that there were shark sightings in those waters now and then, but there hadn't been one all summer.

“You've been watching too much TV. I promise. Nothing is going to happen. You can watch us. I just want to go out with him for a little while. Do you want to come with us?” Ophélie hadn't really wanted her to go, for some of the same reasons, which seemed foolish now. And Pip wasn't all that crazy about the water. She didn't want to scare her. Sailboats were her thing and not her daughter's. Pip shook her head the moment her mother asked her. “I'll tell you what. I'll tell Matt I want to be back in an hour. It's a beautiful day, and we'll be back before you know it. How does that sound?”

“Okay, I guess.” She looked forlorn as she said it, and Ophélie felt guilty. But she really wanted to sail with him, and see his boat, even if only for a few minutes. She was torn now, but it was beginning to seem important to prove to Pip that she could go and come back, and nothing untoward would happen. It was going to be part of the healing process for her.

She went to put shorts over a bathing suit, and called Amy to come and sit with Pip. The teenager had promised to be over in a few minutes, and by the time Ophélie was ready to leave, she was there. But before her mother left, Pip threw her arms around her and held her tight. It brought home to Ophélie just how hard hit Pip had been by her father and brother's deaths. She had never behaved this way before. But Ophélie hadn't gone anywhere either. She had spent most of the last ten months lying on her bed in tears.

“I'll be back soon, I promise. If it's not too hot, you can watch us from the deck. Okay?” She kissed Pip, and walked out the door in as swift and clean an exit as she could manage, while Mousse stood by and wagged his tail. But Ophélie was pensive as she walked down the road to the house where Matt kept his boat. His car was already there. And she found him a moment later, putting some things away on his boat. She was a lovely little sailboat in immaculate condition. It was easy to see how much he loved her by how beautifully he kept her. Everything on deck had been varnished, the brass shone, and the hull had been freshly painted white that spring. She had one mast, which rose forty feet in the air, with a mainsail and a jib, and a fair amount of sail for her size. She had a short bowsprit that made her look longer than her thirty feet, a small engine, and a tiny cabin with ceilings too low for Matt to stand up. And her name was Nessie II , named for the daughter he hadn't seen in six years. The elegant little sailboat was a gem, and Ophélie stood back with a smile as she admired her from the dock. “What a little beauty she is, Matt.” She meant every word of it and couldn't wait to sail with him.