Safe Harbour

The turkey was respectable, but no one really wanted to eat it, and the stuffing was somewhat dry. It just wasn't a meal that anyone enjoyed. They had decided to eat in the kitchen, because at almost seven months, waving his chubby arms in his high chair, they knew Willie would make a mess. Ophélie was grateful they weren't in the dining room, where all she would have been able to imagine was Ted carving the turkey, as he had done every year, and Chad dressed in his suit, complaining bitterly about having to wear a tie. The memories and the loss were too fresh.

Andrea went home at the end of the afternoon with her baby, and Pip went to her room to draw. It had not been an easy day. She came out of her room just in time to see her mother about to slip into Chad's room, and she looked at her with pleading eyes.

“Please don't go in there, Mom, it'll just make you sad.” She knew what she did in there, lying miserably on Chad's bed, smelling what was left of his scent, and feeling his aura around her. She just lay there and cried for hours. Pip could always hear her through the closed door, and it broke her heart. There was no way she could take his place in her mother's eyes. And it was impossible for Ophélie to explain to her that it wasn't that she was inadequate or meant less than he had, it was simply a loss that no one could dim, a loss that nothing could replace, an unfillable void. No other child could fill it, but that didn't mean she loved Pip any less.

“I'll just go in for a minute,” Ophélie looked at her pleadingly as tears filled Pip's eyes, and then silently she went back into her room and closed the door. The look in Pip's eyes made Ophélie feel guilty for going into Chad's room, and instead she walked into her own room, and stood in her closet, staring at Ted's clothes. She needed something, someone, one of them, anything, an object, a touch, one of his jackets, a shirt, something familiar that still smelled of him, or of his cologne. It was an insatiable need that no one could understand unless they had suffered a similar loss. All that was left were their possessions and their clothes, the things they had touched or worn, or carried, or handled. She had worn his wedding ring for the past year, on a thin chain around her neck. No one knew it was there, but she did, and her hand went to it from time to time, just to reassure herself that he had in fact existed, that they had been married, and she had once been loved. It was almost hard to remember that now. It was an overwhelming feeling of panic at times, realizing yet again that he was gone, and would never return. She felt a wave of panic overwhelm her as she clutched one of his jackets to her face, as it hung in the closet next to her, and as though she could feel his arms around her, she took it off the hanger and put it on.

She stood in the closet, feeling like a lost child, as the sleeves hung down, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She could feel something rustle in one of the pockets as she did, and without thinking she reached inside. It was a letter, and for an insane moment, she wanted it to be a letter from him to her, but it wasn't. It was a single typed sheet someone had written on a computer, with an initial at the bottom of the page. She felt uncomfortable reading it since it hadn't been written to her, but it was something, some piece of him, something that he had once touched and read. And her eyes traveled slowly down the page. For a moment, she almost wondered if she'd written it herself, but she knew she hadn't, and she felt her heart begin to pound as she read what it said.

“Darling Ted,” it began, and it did not get better, but worse. “I know this has come as a shock to both of us, but sometimes the greatest blows turn out to be life's greatest gifts. This isn't what I intended either. But I believe it's what is meant to be. I'm not as young as I used to be, and to be honest, I'm afraid I won't get another chance, with you or anyone else. This baby means everything to me, more than anything in this world, because it's yours.