Safe Harbour (21 page)

It was an amazing day for Ophélie. And throughout the day, homeless people of varying sizes, ages, and genders came in to take showers, have a meal, sleep, or just get off the streets and shuffle around the lobby for a while. Some of them looked remarkably coherent and responsible, and even clean, and others looked confused and had glazed eyes. A few were obviously inebriated, and one or two looked like they were on drugs. The Wexler Center was extremely generous in their criteria for admission. No one could use alcohol or drugs on the premises, but if they were in less-than-ideal condition when they got there, they were still allowed to stay.

Ophélie's head was reeling by the time she left and promised to be back the next day. She could hardly wait to come back, and she told Pip all about it on their way back to the house after school. Pip was understandably impressed, not only by what she heard of the Center, but by the fact that her mother had gone there and wanted to volunteer.

She told Matt all about it when he called that afternoon. Ophélie was upstairs having a shower, she felt filthy after working at the Center all day, and she was starving when she came downstairs with her hair in a towel. She hadn't even stopped for lunch. Pip was still talking to Matt on the phone.

“Matt says hi,” Pip said, and then went on speaking to him as Ophélie made herself a sandwich. In the past few weeks, her appetite had improved.

“Say hi to him too,” Ophélie said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“He thinks you're very cool for what you're doing,” Pip transmitted, and then told him all about the sculpture project she was doing in art. And she had volunteered to help with the layouts of the yearbook too. She loved talking to him, although it wasn't as good as sitting with him on the beach. But more than anything, she didn't want to lose touch, and neither did he. And then finally, she handed her mother the phone.

“It sounds like you're up to some interesting doings,” he said admiringly. “What's it like?” Matt asked her.

“Scary, exciting, wonderful, smelly, touching, sad. I love it. The people who work there are terrific, and the ones who come to the shelter for help are really nice.”

“You're an amazing woman. I'm impressed.” And he meant it. She had impressed him from the first.

“Don't be. All I did was file papers, and look lost. I have no idea what I'm doing, or if they'll want me by the end of the week.” She had promised them three days, and had two left. But so far, she loved it.

“They'll want you. Just don't do anything dangerous, or put yourself at risk. You can't afford to, with Pip.”

“Believe me, I know.” The fact that Louise Anderson had referred to her as a single mother had made the point, uncomfortably so. “So, how's the beach?”

“Absolutely dead without the two of you,” he said sadly. Although the weather had been terrific in the two days since they left. It was hot and sunny and there were bright blue skies every day. September was one of the warmest months at the beach, and Ophélie was sorry not to be there, as was Pip. “I was thinking of coming in this weekend to see you, if that suits you, unless you'd rather come out here.”

“I have a feeling Pip has soccer practice on Saturday morning… maybe we could come out Sunday…”

“Why don't I come in? If that works for you, I don't want to intrude.”

“You won't be intruding. Pip will be thrilled. And I'd love to see you too,” she said, sounding enthusiastic. She was in a great mood, despite her long day. Being at the Center had been invigorating for her.

“I'll take you both out to dinner. Ask Pip where she'd like to go, and you can tell me all about your work. I'm dying to hear about it.”

“I don't think I'm going to be doing anything important. They have to train me for a week, and then I guess I'll just be a spare pair of hands for anyone who needs them. Mostly referrals and phones. But at least it's something.” It was better than sitting in Chad's room, crying at home. And he knew that too.

“I'll come in around five on Saturday. See you then.”

“Thanks again, Matt,” she said, and handed the phone back to Pip so she could say good-bye to him. And then Ophélie went upstairs to read some material they'd given her at the Center. Articles, studies, data about homelessness, and the Center. It was fascinating and heart-wrenching stuff.

And as Ophélie lay on her bed, in a pink cashmere robe, with clean sheets under her, she couldn't help thinking how lucky they were. Their house was large and comfortable and beautiful, filled with antiques Ted had insisted she buy. The rooms were sunny, the colors bright. Their bedroom was done in bright yellow-flowered chintz, and Pip's room was done in pale pink silk, it was a dream for a little girl. Chad had had a typical teenage boy's room, in dark blue plaids. There was a study for Ted in brown leather, which she never went into anymore, and a small sitting room off her bedroom in pale blue and yellow watered silk. And downstairs there was a large, inviting living room filled with English antiques, with a big fireplace, a formal dining room, and a den. The kitchen was state of the art, or had been when they remodeled the house five years before. And in the basement, there was a large playroom with a billiards table and a Ping-Pong table, video games, and a maid's room they'd never used. There was a small pretty garden out back, and the front of the house was a dignified stone facade, with manicured trees in big stone pots on either side of the front door, and a trimmed hedge. It had been Ted's dream house, and never hers. But there was no question, it was beautiful, and light-years away from the agony of the people who went to the Wexler Center, or even worked there. As Ophélie sat staring into space, Pip appeared in the doorway and looked at her.

“Are you okay, Mom?” She had that same glazed look she'd had for the entire year before, and Pip was worried about her.

“I'm fine. I was just thinking how fortunate we are. There are people out there on the streets who never sleep in a bed, who have no bathroom, can't shower, are hungry, and have no one to love them and nowhere to go. It's hard to imagine, Pip. They're only a few miles away from here, and they might as well be somewhere in the third world.”

“It's so sad, Mom.” Pip looked at her with big eyes, but she was relieved that nothing was wrong with her mom. She was always afraid her mother would slip back into the dark depths of despair, and she didn't want her to go there again.

“Yes, it is, sweetheart.”

Ophélie made dinner for them that night. There were lamb chops, which she burned a little, and they each ate one. Neither of them was a big eater, but she thought she should make an effort at least to improve their diet. She made a salad, and warmed tinned carrots, which Pip said were disgusting. She said she preferred corn.

“I'll keep it in mind.” Ophélie smiled at her.

And that night, without even asking, Pip went to sleep in her mother's bed. When the alarm went off in the morning, they both hurried to shower, dress, and have breakfast. Ophélie looked excited as she dropped Pip off at school, and headed for work at the Wexler Center. It was exactly what she had wanted, and what she needed. For the first time in years, there was a purpose to her life.

14

T
HE REST OF THE WEEK FLEW BY FOR BOTH OF THEM, AS
Pip settled into school, and Ophélie tried out at the Wexler Center. And by Friday afternoon, there was no doubt in her mind, or anyone else's. She was ready to volunteer three days a week, and they wanted her.

She was going to work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and the following week they were going to train her, by having her follow various staff members for several hours each. She had to give them a medical certificate, showing that she was in good health, and clear a criminal check, which they said they'd take care of for her. They fingerprinted her on Friday before she left. And they needed two personal references as well. Andrea said she would supply one, and Ophélie called her attorney and asked him to send the second. Everything was all set. She wasn't sure yet exactly what she'd be doing for them, it sounded like an assortment of everything, helping whoever needed a spare pair of hands on the days she was in. They were also going to train her to do intakes. She still felt relatively inadequate, but she was more than willing to learn. And she had gotten a glowing recommendation from Miriam at the end of the week. Ophélie thanked her warmly as she left.

“Well, I made the grade,” Ophélie said proudly when she picked Pip up at school on Friday afternoon. “They want me as a volunteer at Wexler.” She was truly pleased. It gave her a sense of accomplishment and being needed, and maybe even making some small difference in the world.

“That's cool, Mom! Wait till we tell Matt tomorrow!” He had offered to watch Pip play soccer, but she said she'd rather he came another time to see a game. Saturday was just going to be a practice and their first day. She was small and delicate, but she was also fast, and played well. She had been playing for two years as part of her PE requirement at school. And she liked it a lot better than ballet.

Pip finished her homework on Friday, and had a friend over to spend the night, and Andrea came over to have dinner with them. She picked up from Pip that Matt was coming to take them to dinner the following day, and raised an eyebrow at Ophélie.

“You're holding out on me, old friend. The child molester's coming here?” She looked amused.

“He wanted to see Pip,” Ophélie said benignly, and believed it was true, although she was pleased to see him too, and considered him a friend. “Maybe we should stop calling him that one of these days.”

“Maybe the term ‘boyfriend’ would suit him better,” she said, as Ophélie objected instantly with a shake of her head.

“Hardly. I have no interest in having a boyfriend. Only a friend.” And she knew from their conversations that Matt felt the same way. She had decided that romance was no longer in the cards for her, nor did she want it to be. Ever again.

“That's what you're interested in. What about him? Guys don't come into town to take women to dinner, just to see their little girls. Trust me on that one. I know men.” That she did, as they both knew.

“Maybe some do.” Ophélie held firm.

“He's just biding his time,” Andrea said confidently. “As soon as he thinks you're comfortable, he'll make a move.”

“I hope not,” Ophélie said, looking sincere, and then, to change the subject, she told Andrea about her week at Wexler. Andrea was impressed, and glad she'd found something to do.

But the following afternoon, when the doorbell rang, and Ophélie went to answer it, Andrea's assessment of her friendship with Matt crossed her mind as she opened the door. And she ardently hoped Andrea was wrong.

He was standing there in a leather jacket and gray slacks, a plain gray turtleneck, and a well-shined pair of loafers. It was the kind of outfit Ted would have worn, only better. Ted never remembered to shine his shoes, nor cared. He was too concerned with more important things. Ophélie shined them for him.

Matt smiled the moment he saw her, and as soon as Pip bounded down the stairs and he saw her, Ophélie knew her friend was wrong, however well she thought she knew men. Andrea was wrong about this one, there was no doubt in Ophélie's mind, and she was immensely relieved. He exuded fatherly kindness to Pip, and brotherly concern for her. After Pip had shown him her room and her treasures, and her latest drawings, and had finally calmed down, Ophélie told him a little about the Wexler Center, and he sounded impressed and intrigued. She even told him about the outreach team.

“I hope you're not planning to join them,” he said quietly, with a look of concern. “That's an important aspect of their work, I'm sure, and a good thing, but it sounds dangerous to me.”

“I'm sure it is. They're all very skilled. The woman on the team is an ex-policewoman, one of the men is an ex-cop and a martial arts expert, and so is she, and the third one is an ex–Navy SEAL. They don't need any help from me!” She smiled, and Pip joined them again then. She was thrilled to have Matt visiting them, and when her mother left the room to get Matt a glass of wine, Pip whispered to him about the portrait of her he was doing.

“How's it coming? Did you work on it this week?” She knew it was going to be the best present her mother had ever gotten, and she could hardly wait to see her face when she did.

“I'm just getting started.” He smiled at his young friend. He hoped she wouldn't be disappointed in the end result, but he liked the work he had done on it so far. His own feelings for Pip made it easier to capture her, it was as much about her spirit and her soul as it was about the bright red hair and gentle brown eyes with the amber lights in them. He would have liked to paint a portrait of Ophélie too, although he hadn't done one of an adult in a long time. But he would have liked to try.

Shortly before seven, they got up to leave and go to dinner, and as they reached the front door, Matt stopped in his tracks.

“You forgot something,” he said, looking down at Pip, and she looked surprised.

“We can't take Mousse to a restaurant,” she said in a serious voice. She was wearing a little black skirt and a red sweater, and she looked very grown-up. She had dressed carefully for him, and her mother had done her hair with a brand-new barrette. “We can only take Moussy to restaurants at the beach,” she explained.

“I wasn't thinking of him, although I should have. We'll bring him a doggy bag. You didn't show me the Elmo and Grover slippers,” he said reproachfully, and Pip laughed.

“Do you want to see them?” She looked pleased. He remembered everything she told him. He always did.

“We're not leaving till I do,” he said firmly. He took a step back and crossed his arms, with an expectant look as Ophélie smiled at them both. And then he looked at her too.

“I'm serious. Both of you. I want to see Elmo and Grover. I think you should model them for me.” He looked as though he meant it, and Pip ran up the stairs to get them, looking ecstatic. She returned a minute later with both pairs, and handed the Grover ones to her mother.

Feeling silly, Ophélie put them on, as Pip put on hers, and they both stood there in the oversize fuzzy slippers as Matt smiled approval. “They're terrific. I love them. Now I'm really jealous. I want a pair too. Can't you find them in my size?”