“She's Pip's godmother and my oldest friend out here,” Ophélie explained.

“Pip told me about her, and the baby. If Pip's description of the situation is correct, it was a brave thing to do.” He was discreetly referring to the sperm bank story that Pip had told him, and Ophélie understood. She liked his delicacy and discretion.

“It was brave, but she thought she'd never have children otherwise, and she's thrilled with the baby.”

“He's very cute,” he said, and then went back to watching Pip. He and Ophélie were both pleased and proud when her team won the game, and she came off the field with a broad grin of victory, as they praised her.

He offered to take them to lunch afterward, and they went to a pancake house at Pip's request, had a nice brunch together, and then Matt went back to the beach. He wanted to work on the portrait, and said as much to Pip in a whisper as they left, and she winked. And after that, she and Ophélie went home. The phone was ringing as soon as Ophélie opened the door, and she could guess who it was.

“My, my… now he's coming to Pip's soccer games?” Andrea's voice was full of innuendo, as Ophélie shook her head at her end. “I think you're holding out on me.”

“Maybe he's in love with her, and he'll be my son-in-law one day,” Ophélie said, laughing. She had expected this. “I am not holding out on you.”

“Then you're crazy. He's the best-looking man I've seen in years. If he's straight, grab him, for chrissake. Do you think he is?” Andrea said, suddenly sounding concerned.

“Is what?” Ophélie hadn't gotten the gist of what she said. It hadn't even occurred to her, and either way, she didn't care. They were just friends.

“Straight. Do you think he's gay?”

“I don't think so. I never asked him. He was married, for heaven's sake, and had two kids. But what difference does it make?”

“He could have become gay after that,” Andrea said practically, but she didn't think he was gay either. “But I don't think so. I think you're nuts if you don't grab him while you've got the opportunity. Guys like that get snatched off the market before you can sneeze.”

“Well, I'm not sneezing, and I don't think he's on the market any more than I am. I think he wants to be alone.”

“Maybe he's depressed. Is he on medication? You could suggest it, that might get the ball rolling. Of course, then you could have the issue of side effects to deal with. Some antidepressants depress men's sex drives. But there's always Viagra,” Andrea said optimistically while Ophélie rolled her eyes.

“I'll be sure to suggest it to him. He'll be thrilled. He doesn't need Viagra to have dinner with us. And I don't think he's depressed. I think he's wounded.” That was different.

“Same thing. How long ago did his wife leave? Ten years? It's not normal for him to still be alone. Or to be so interested in Pip, if he's not a child molester, which I don't think he is either. He needs a relationship, and so do you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson. I feel better already. The poor man, he should only know that you're reorganizing his life, and mine. And prescribing Viagra.”

“Someone has to. He's obviously incapable of organizing this himself, and so are you. You can't just sit there for the rest of your life. Besides, Pip'll be gone in a few years.”

“I've already thought about that myself, and it makes me hysterical, thank you. I just have to get used to it. Fortunately, I still have time before she leaves.” But it was the one thing that frightened her most now, she couldn't conceive of living alone without Pip, once she grew up. The thought of it depressed her so badly, it took her breath away. But Matthew Bowles wasn't the answer to her problems. She just had to get used to being alone. And enjoy Pip as much as she could while she was still there. Ophélie wasn't looking for anyone to fill the void Chad and Ted had left, nor the one Pip would leave when she went. She was going to have to fill it with work, friends, and whatever else she could find, like the work she was doing with the homeless. “Matt's not the answer,” she reiterated to Andrea.

“Why not? He looks pretty good to me.” Better than that, in fact.

“Then you go after him, and give him Viagra. I'm sure he'll be grateful to you,” Ophélie said, laughing again. Andrea was outrageous, but she always had been. It was one of the things Ophélie liked about her. And they were very different.

“Maybe I will go after him. When is Pip's next soccer game?”

“You're impossible. Why don't you just drive to Safe Harbour and beat his door down with an ax. It might impress him with how determined you are to save him from himself.”

“Sounds like a great idea to me.” Andrea sounded undaunted.

They chatted for a few minutes, and Ophélie didn't tell her about the remarkable night she'd had on the streets the night before. Late that afternoon, she and Pip went to a movie, and then came home and had dinner. And by ten o'clock, they were both in Ophélie's bed, sound asleep.

At Safe Harbour at that hour, Matt was still working on Pip's portrait. He was wrestling with her mouth that night, and thinking about how she had looked when she came off the field from the soccer game. She had been wearing the most irresistible grin. He loved looking at her, and painting her and being with her. And he enjoyed Ophélie's company too, but probably not as much as he enjoyed Pip's. She was an angel, a wood sprite, an elf, a wise little old soul in a child's body, and as he painted her, all of those qualities began to emerge. He was pleased with the painting by the time he went to bed that night. And he was still asleep the next morning when Pip called. She was apologetic when she realized she had woken him up.

“I'm sorry I woke you, Matt. I thought you'd be up by now.” It was nine-thirty, which seemed late enough to her. But he hadn't gone to bed till nearly two.

“That's fine. I was working on a certain project of ours last night. I think I've nearly got it.” He sounded pleased, and so did she.

“My mom is going to love it,” Pip assured him. “Maybe we can go to dinner one night and you can show me. She's going to be working two nights a week.”

“Doing what?” He sounded surprised. He didn't even know she had a job, other than volunteer work she'd been planning to do with the homeless at the Wexler Center. This somehow sounded more serious, and somewhat official.

“She's going to work in a van, visiting the homeless on the street, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She'll be out all night almost, and Alice is going to spend the night here, because it'll be too late for her to go home when my mom gets back.”

“That sounds pretty interesting,” he said to Pip. But also very dangerous, he thought to himself, but he didn't want to worry her. “I'll be happy to come and take you to dinner. But maybe we should wait until a night when your mom will be there too. She might feel left out.” He enjoyed Ophélie's company, but also never lost sight of the proprieties, of seeing a child Pip's age without her mother, except on an open beach, as he had all summer. That was different, in his view at least. And he suspected that Ophélie would have agreed. Most of their ideas about children seemed to be fairly similar, and he had great respect for how Ophélie had raised Pip, and was continuing to do so. The results had been extremely good, from all he could see.

“Maybe you can come visit us next week.”

“I'll try,” he promised, but as it turned out, his plans and theirs didn't mesh for the next few weeks. He was working on the portrait, and had some other things to do, and business to attend to. Ophélie was busier than she'd ever expected. She had decided to work three days a week at the Center, and two nights a week on the streets with the outreach team. It was a heavy schedule for her. And Pip had a lot more homework than she wanted to admit.

It was the first of October, when he called Ophélie and invited her to the beach for the day the following weekend, but Ophélie seemed to hesitate, and then explained it to him.

“Ted and Chad's anniversary date is the day before that,” she said sadly. “I think it's going to be kind of a tough day for both of us. I'm not sure how we're going to feel so soon after, and I'd hate to come out and be gloomy and depressed. It might be better to wait another week. Actually, Pip's birthday is the following week.” He remembered it vaguely, but she hadn't said much about it to him, which he thought very adult of her, and discreet.

“We could do both. Let's play the day after the anniversary by ear. It might do you both good to come out to Safe Harbour for a change of scenery. You don't have to tell me till you wake up that morning. And if it wouldn't be an intrusion, I'd love to take you and Pip to dinner for her birthday, if you think that would be fun for her.”

“I'm sure she'd love it,” Ophélie said honestly, and in the end agreed to call him the morning after the anniversary. She suspected correctly they'd be talking to him before that anyway. And even busy as she was these days, she enjoyed hearing his voice on the phone.

She told Pip about both invitations, and she was visibly pleased, although she herself was nervous about the anniversary. She was mostly afraid it would be hard on her mother and set her back again. She had been doing so well lately, and the anniversary date seemed like a major threat to them both.

Ophélie was having a mass said at Saint Dominic's, and other than that, they had nothing planned. There had been no remains after the plane exploded and burned, and Ophélie had purposely not put up headstones in a cemetery over empty graves. She didn't want to have a place to go or mourn. As far as she was concerned, she had explained to Pip the year before, they carried them in their hearts. All that had been left in the rubble were Chad's belt buckle, and Ted's wedding ring, both twisted almost beyond recognition, but she had saved both.