Safe Harbour

“Don't you even want to go out with him?” It sounded unnatural to her. Ophélie was a beautiful woman, and she was only forty-two, nearly fortythree, but far too young to give up on men, and spend the rest of her life mourning Ted.

“Nope,” Ophélie answered quietly. “I don't want to go out with anyone. I still feel married to Ted.” And whatever she felt, or didn't, for Matt was irrelevant. They both liked the relationship as it was. Expecting more from it, or even allowing it to go there, if it did, was too high-risk for her. And she never wanted to spoil what they had now. But she said none of that to Andrea. Ophélie knew she would never have understood. She was far more given to self-indulgence than restraint, which Ophélie preferred.

“What if Ted didn't feel as married to you? What do you think he would have done if you had died instead? Do you think he would have carried a torch for you for the rest of his life?” Ophélie looked unhappy at the question. It brought up some old painful memories that Andrea was aware of. But it irked her to see Ophélie wasting her life. She didn't think Ted was worth it, no matter how much Ophélie had loved him. It just wasn't healthy for her to be alone forever because of him. And Ophélie was clearly determined to stay on the path of the celibate grieving widow for the rest of her life.

“It doesn't matter what he would have done,” she said quietly. “This is what I'm doing, and how I feel. It's what I want to do.” She had made a choice for herself, and was comfortable with it, no matter how kind and attractive Matt was.

“Maybe Matt just doesn't turn you on. What about the homeless place you work? Is there anyone there? What's the director like?” She was clutching at straws for her friend's benefit, and Ophélie laughed at her.

“I like her very much. And she's a woman.”

“I give up. You're hopeless.” Andrea threw up her hands.

“Good. How about you? What's this new guy like?”

“Just my cup of tea. His wife is having twins in December. He says she's brain dead, and the marriage has been in trouble for years, which is why she got pregnant. Dumb thing to do, but people do it. He's not the love of my life, but we have a good time together.” Until the babies came, and he fell in love with his wife again, or didn't. But it was no solution for Andrea, and they both knew it. She claimed she didn't want a “solution,” just an occasional roll in the hay to prove to herself she wasn't dead yet.

“He doesn't sound like the answer,” Ophélie said sympathetically, sorry for her. Andrea had made so many poor choices in her life, for such a long time.

“He isn't. It'll do for now. He'll be too busy when the babies come anyway. Right now, she's on bed rest, and they haven't had sex since June.” Just listening to her was depressing. Everything she described was all that Ophélie had never wanted. It was all about expediency and convenience and settling for less than she deserved, just to have a warm body in her bed.

As difficult as Ted may have been, Ophélie loved their marriage. Loved being married to him and loving him, and supporting him emotionally in their years of poverty, celebrating with and for him when he made it. She loved their loyalty, and the fact that they'd been together forever. She had never cheated on him, nor wanted to. And even if he had slipped once, she knew he loved her, and had forgiven him. It horrified her now to think that she was single again, and the dating world terrified her. She was much happier at home with Pip, than out carousing with men who were cheating on their wives, or even bachelors who wanted to stay that way, and were just looking to get laid. She couldn't think of anything worse. And she had no desire to spoil her friendship with Matt, hurt him, or get hurt again. She cherished what they had, just as it was. They were much better off as friends, no matter what Andrea thought.

He and Pip came home at ten-thirty that night. She looked happy and disheveled, her shirt had come untucked from her skirt, and he had his tie in his pocket. They had eaten fried chicken, and danced to rap music the girls had selected. And they both said they'd had a great time.

“I'm not so sure about their music,” he said, laughing with Ophélie, as she poured him a glass of white wine, after Pip went to bed. “Pip seems to love it. And she sure can dance.”

“I used to love to dance too,” Ophélie said with a happy smile. She was glad they had had a good time. As usual, he had saved the day for them. And Pip had gone to bed beaming from ear to ear. Ophélie suspected she had a crush on him, but it seemed harmless and reasonable to her. Matt wasn't even aware of it, which seemed a good thing. If he had known, it might have embarrassed Pip.

“And now? You don't love to dance anymore?” he asked with a broad grin as they sat down.