Danielle Steel - Safe Harbour

But all went well. She had an uneventful night, as she told Matt when he called to check on her on Wednesday, and it was another quiet night when she went out with them on Thursday. They had come across several camps of kids and young people, some of them still decently dressed from when they left home, which tugged at her heart. And a camp of clean-cut-looking men, all of whom said they were employed but wound up homeless anyway. There were a lot of heart-wrenching stories on the streets. And Saturday was her birthday, which turned out even better than planned. It was everything Pip had dreamed. They celebrated at the house before they went out to dinner, and Pip was so excited she couldn't sit still. She and Matt went out to his car to get the portrait. Pip made Ophélie close her eyes, and then with a kiss and a flourish, she handed it to her. And Ophélie gasped. And then cried.

“Oh my God… it's so beautiful …Pip!… Matt…” She kept holding it and staring at it. It was a beautiful portrait, and he had captured not only her elfin face, but also her spirit. Each time Ophélie looked at it, she cried. And she hated to leave it when they went out to dinner. She could hardly wait to hang it up. Her reaction was everything Matt had hoped, and she didn't stop thanking him for it all night.

They had a lovely time at dinner, and he had arranged a birthday cake for her at the restaurant. It was a perfect birthday, and Pip was yawning when they got home. It had been a big night for her too. She had waited months for the presentation of the portrait, and her excitement and anticipation had worn her out. Ophélie was still holding it when Pip kissed her mother and Matt and went up to bed, and he was thrilled to see how happy Ophélie was with the gift.

“I don't know how I can ever thank you. It's the most beautiful present I've ever had.” It was truly a gift of love, not only from Pip, but from Matt.

“You're an amazing woman,” he said gently, as he sat next to her on the couch. And an honorable one, he knew, which had come to mean a great deal to him, particularly in light of what Sally had done to him, and what he now knew had been done to Ophélie. She was very rare, and so was he. But the people they had loved had also been unusually cruel.

“You're always so good to me and Pip,” she said gratefully, as he looked down at her and took her hand. He wanted her to trust him, and he thought she did, but he didn't know how much. And what he wanted to say to her was going to require a great deal of trust.

“You deserve to have people be good to you, Ophélie. And so does Pip.” He felt as though they were part of his family, and he was the only family she and Pip still had. It seemed as though all else had been lost.

And as he looked at her, he leaned toward her gently, and kissed her on the mouth. She was the first woman he had kissed in years, and she hadn't been touched by a man since her husband died. They were two fragile, cautious beings, like stars, floating gently through the skies. Ophélie was startled, she hadn't expected him to kiss her, but much to his relief, she didn't resist or pull back. She just seemed to hang there in the moment with him, and when he stopped, they were both out of breath. He had been afraid she would be angry at him, and he was immensely relieved that she was not, but she looked scared, as he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

“What are we doing, Matt? Is this crazy?” More than anything, she needed to feel safe. And she no longer did, anywhere in her life, except with him. And he felt safe with her too.

“I don't think it is,” he reassured her. “I've felt this way about you for a long time. Longer than I knew. I was just afraid to frighten you away if I said anything. You've been so badly hurt.”

“So have you,” she whispered, touching his face with a gentle hand, and thinking how pleased Pip would be. The thought of it made her smile, and she said as much to him.

“I'm in love with her too. I can't wait for you both to meet my kids.”

“Neither can I,” she said, sounding happy, and he kissed her again.

“Happy birthday, my darling,” he said, as he kissed her, and when he left that night, she thought that, without a doubt, it had been the best birthday of her life.

23

THE TUESDAY AFTER HER BIRTHDAY, OPHÉLIE WAS OUT with the outreach team, and Bob reminded her that she was being careless while they were checking what they called “cribs,” the boxes and structures people were sleeping in. They walked up to them, checked if people were inside and awake, and asked what they needed, but they needed to be vigilant while they did it, to avoid surprises. She had been dreamy eyed, and more than once turned her back on groups of young men who approached them. People on the streets were always curious about who they were, where they came from, and what they were doing. But being alert and cautious was vital to the team. The rules of the jungle applied at all times, no matter how friendly people appeared. For the most part, the homeless they encountered were gentle and kind, and grateful for whatever they got. But threaded among them were the inevitable dissidents, the troublemakers, and the predators who preyed on them, and wantonly took the little they had. It was painful to realize that for everything the outreach team distributed, a third or even half of it would be stolen by someone else. It was a world in which the honor code was survival, and little else. Ophélie knew that, as the others did. And all you could do, in helping them, was give it your best shot, and hope it made a difference.

“Hey, Opie! Watch your back, girlfriend. What's up?” Bob asked her with a look of concern as they headed back to the van after their second stop. He wanted to make her aware of it, so no one got hurt. The safety of the entire team rested on each one of them. And although they were casual at times, and joked with each other, and even those they helped, they still had to keep their wits about them and remain aware of the players. They had to anticipate the worst in order to prevent it happening to them. There were the inevitable stories of cops and volunteers and social workers who'd been killed on the streets, usually doing something they shouldn't have done, like going out to work on the streets alone. They knew better, but there was always the temptation to believe that they were exempt and couldn't be touched. Safety, for all of them, lay in being, and staying, alert.

“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.