Danielle Steel - Safe Harbour

“I think he would suit me too,” Pip said sensibly, “which is why you have to marry him.”

“Maybe he'd like Andrea,” Ophélie said to distract her, but crazier things had happened. She suddenly wondered if she should introduce them, but Pip had an instant and very negative opinion. Besides, she didn't want to lose him. She wanted Matt for them.

“No, he wouldn't,” Pip said firmly. “He'd hate her. She's too strong for him. She likes to tell everyone what to do, including men. That's why they always leave her.” It was an interesting assessment, and Ophélie knew her daughter wasn't entirely mistaken. Pip had overheard a lot of conversations between her parents about Andrea over the years, and had figured some of it out herself. Andrea had a way of emasculating men, and she was too independent, which was why she'd had to go to a sperm bank for a baby. No man so far had wanted to get that closely entangled with her. But it was an amazing perception for a child Pip's age, and Ophélie didn't disagree with her, although she didn't say it. But she was impressed by her wisdom. “He'd be much happier with you, and me,” Pip said modestly, and then giggled. “Maybe we should ask him the next time we see him.”

“I'm sure he'd love that. Why don't we just tell him. Or order him to marry us. That would do it.” Ophélie smiled too.

“Yeah,” Pip grinned, “I like that.” She squinted her eyes in the sun, thinking about it. She looked delighted.

“You're a little monster,” her mother teased her, and a few minutes later, they got home, and Ophélie unlocked the door. She hadn't been to the house in three months. She had purposely avoided it whenever she came into the city, and had had their mail forwarded all summer to Safe Harbour. It was the first time she'd been back since they left it. And the reality of their situation hit her like an express train as they entered. She had somehow allowed herself to believe, in the back of her mind, that when they came back, Ted and Chad would be there, waiting for them. As though this had been a trip, and the agony of the last year had been a bad joke. Chad would come down the stairs, grinning at her, and Ted would be standing in their bedroom doorway, waiting for her with that look that still turned her stomach upside down and her knees to jelly. The chemistry between them had been powerful for their entire marriage. But the house was empty. There was no escaping the truth. She and Pip were alone forever.

They both stood in the front door, as the same realization hit them at the same time, and their eyes filled with tears as they held each other.

“I hate it here,” Pip said softly, as they clung to each other.

“So do I,” her mother whispered.

Neither of them wanted to go upstairs or to their respective bedrooms. The reality of it was just too awful. And for the moment, Matt was forgotten. He had his own life, his own world. And they had theirs. There was no hiding from it.

Ophélie went out to the car and unloaded the bags, and Pip helped her drag them up the stairs. Even that was hard for them. They were both small and the bags were heavy, and there was no one to help them. Ophélie was breathless as she set both of Pip's bags down in her bedroom.

“I'll unpack for you in a minute,” Ophélie said, trying to hang on to the steps she'd made over the summer, but she felt down a black hole again the moment they were back in the house she had once shared with her son and husband. It was as though the healing months at Safe Harbour had never happened.

“I can do it myself, Mom,” Pip said sadly. She felt it too. In some ways it was worse now. Ophélie was more alive again, and had feelings. The year of the robot had been better.

Ophélie dragged her own bags upstairs then, and her heart sank as she opened the closet. It was all still there. Every jacket, every suit, every shirt, every tie, all the shoes he had worn, even the old battered loafers he wore on weekends, that he'd had since Harvard. It was like reliving a nightmare. And she didn't even dare go into Chad's room, she knew it would kill her. This was bad enough, and as she unpacked her things, she could feel herself slipping backward. It was frightening.

By dinnertime, they were both silent and pale and exhausted, and they both jumped when the phone rang. They had just decided not to eat dinner for the moment, although Ophélie knew the child had to eat at some point, hungry or not. In her own case, she never hesitated to miss a meal.

Ophélie didn't move, there was no one she wanted to speak to, so Pip answered. And her face brightened slowly when she heard his voice.

“Hi, Matt. It's okay,” she said in answer to his question, but he could hear in her voice that it wasn't, and then as her mother watched, she started crying. “No, it isn't, it's awful. It's horrible here. We hate it.” She included her mother in the statement, and Ophélie thought of stopping her, and then didn't. If he was to be their friend, he might as well know how bad it was.

Pip listened for a long time and kept nodding, but at least the tears had stopped. She sat down on a kitchen chair as she listened. “Okay. I'll try. I'll tell my mother…I can't…I have to go to school tomorrow. When are you coming?” Whatever he had said at the other end, Ophélie saw that she looked pleased with the answer. “Okay… I'll ask her …” She turned to Ophélie then with her hand discreetly over the mouthpiece. “Do you want to talk to him?” But Ophélie shook her head and whispered.

“Tell him I'm busy.” She didn't want to talk to anyone. She was too unhappy. And she knew she couldn't fake being cheerful. It was one thing for Pip to cry on his shoulder, but she couldn't. It didn't seem appropriate for her to do that, and she didn't want to.

“Okay,” Pip said to Matt again, “I'll tell her. I'll call you tomorrow.” Ophélie was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of daily contact with Matt, but maybe there was no harm in it. Whatever gave Pip comfort. And as soon as she hung up, Pip reported the conversation to her. “He said it's normal that we feel this way because we lived here with my brother and father, and pretty soon we'll feel better. He said to do something fun tonight, like order Chinese food, or a pizza or go out. And turn on some music. Happy music. Real loud. And if we're too sad, we should sleep together. He said we should go shopping together tomorrow and buy something silly, but I told him I couldn't, I have to go to school. But his other ideas sounded pretty good. Do you want to order Chinese food, Mom?” They hadn't had it all summer, and they both liked it. It was something different at least, which was Matt's plan.

“Not really, but it was sweet of him to suggest it.” Pip particularly liked the idea of the music. And then Ophélie suddenly thought about it. Why not, after all? It might help. “Do you want Chinese food, Pip?” It seemed foolish since neither of them was hungry.

“Sure, why don't we just order egg rolls? And fried wontons.”

“I'd rather have dim sum,” Ophélie said pensively, and then started looking on the counter for the number they used for Chinese takeout, and found it.

“I want shrimp fried rice too,” Pip said, as her mother called them and placed the order. And half an hour later, the doorbell rang and all of it appeared, and they sat in the kitchen and ate it. By then, Pip had put on some truly awful music, as loud as they could tolerate. But they both had to admit, they felt better than they had an hour before.

“It was kind of a silly idea,” her mother smiled at her sheepishly, “but it was sweet of him to suggest it.” And it had worked, better than she wanted to admit. It was embarrassing that some Chinese food and one of Pip's CDs could actually soothe some of the pain of the horrifying grief they had to live with. But even from the distance, he had cheered them both.