“Mom, are you okay?” Pip looked panicked. “What's wrong?” Her mother looked frighteningly ill, and so pale she looked green.
“Nothing,” she croaked, rinsing her mouth out. All she had thrown up was bile and a little bit of turkey. She had eaten almost nothing. But she felt as though she had retched up all her insides along with her heart and her soul and her marriage.
“Do you want to lie down?” Pip offered. It had been a horrible day for all of them, and now she was desperately worried about her mother. She looked like she was going to die, and wished she would.
“I will in a minute. I'll be fine.” Even she knew it was a lie. She would never be fine again. And what if he had left her? What if he had done that and not died? And taken Chad with him. It would have killed her, and maybe Chad, if they both had denial. But he was dead anyway. They both were. It no longer mattered. And now he had killed her, as surely as if he had shot her. The letter made a travesty of their marriage, not to mention her friendship with Andrea. She couldn't understand how anyone could do that to her, how she could be so insidious and so treacherous, so dishonest and so cruel.
“Mommy, go lie down, please …” Pip was nearly crying. She hadn't called her mother Mommy since she was a baby. And she was very frightened.
“I need to go out for a minute.” Ophélie turned to look at her daughter, and this time the robot had not returned, she looked like a vampire, with icy white face and red-ringed watering eyes. Pip almost didn't recognize her, and didn't want to. She wanted her mother back, wherever she had gone to in the last hour. Whoever this was didn't even look like her mother. “Can you stay here alone?”
“Where are you going? Do you want me to come with you?” Pip was shaking now too.
“No. I'll only be gone for a few minutes. Just keep the doors locked, and keep Moussy with you.” She sounded like her mother, but she didn't look it. And suddenly Ophélie had a singleness of purpose, and a power she never knew she had. She could understand suddenly how people committed crimes of passion. But she didn't want to kill her. She just wanted to see her, to take one last look at her, the woman who had destroyed their marriage, who had turned her memories of Ted and what they had shared to ashes. She couldn't even allow herself to hate him. Everything she felt, all the agony and horror of the last year was now focused on Andrea in a single moment of time, like a bullet. But the bullet had struck Ophélie and run straight through her. And there was nothing she could do to them to equal what they had done to her.
Pip stood at the top of the stairs looking frightened as her mother left. She didn't know what to do, or who to call, or what to say. She just sat on the steps, and pulled Mousse close to her. He licked her face, and her tears, as they sat there and waited for Ophélie to come back.
She drove the ten blocks to Andrea's house without stopping. She drove through crosswalks and stop signs, and one stoplight, and left her car parked on the sidewalk. She had made no call of warning, and she ran up the stairs and rang the doorbell. She had worn no coat over her thin shirt, not even a sweater, and she felt nothing. It took Andrea only a moment to answer the doorbell. She was holding the baby in his pajamas, and they both smiled the minute they saw her.
“Hi …” Andrea started to greet her warmly, and saw instantly that she was shaking. She had put the letter in her pocket. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Where's Pip?”
“Yes, something happened.” Ophélie stood in the open doorway, and pulled the letter from her pocket with hands that shook so violently, she could hardly control them. “I found your letter.” Her face got even paler, and was instantly matched by Andrea's. She made no attempt to deny it. They looked like two chalk women standing in the doorway, with the wind blowing in around them.
“Do you want to come in?” There were things to say, but Ophélie didn't want to hear them, and did not move from where she stood.
“How could you? How could you do that for a year, and pretend to be my friend? How could you have his baby and pretend it was from a sperm bank? How dare you say what you did about Chad to manipulate his father? You knew how Ted felt about him. It was all a manipulation, you probably didn't even love him. You don't love anyone, Andrea. Not me, not him, probably not even that poor baby. And you would have taken Chad from me, just to impress Ted, and he would have killed himself while you were playing games, using him as a lure. You're beyond pathetic. You're evil. You are the worst kind of human being. I hate you… you destroyed the only thing I had left… the belief that he loved me…he didn't… and you didn't love him either. I did. I always always loved him, no matter how rotten he was to me, or how much he wasn't there for me, or for his children…you don't love anything…my God, how could you do this?” She felt as though she were going to die standing there, but she no longer cared. They had destroyed her. It took them a year after his death, but even after his death, they had done it. Both of them. She couldn't even begin to understand why. “I want you to stay away from me… and from Pip… don't ever call us. Don't contact me. You're dead as far as I'm concerned. Forever. Just as dead as he is…do you hear me…” Ophélie's voice broke in a sob.
Andrea didn't argue with her, and she was shaking too, as she held the baby. They were both cold and in shock, and badly shaken, and Andrea knew she deserved it. She had worried endlessly about what he had done with the letter, but when it never surfaced, she assumed he had destroyed it, and hoped he had. But there was one last thing she wanted to say to the woman who had been her friend and never betrayed her.
“I want you to listen to me…I only have one thing to say to you other than that I am so sorry… I'll never forgive myself either, but at least the baby is worth it…it wasn't his fault.”
“I don't give a damn about you or your baby.” But the trouble was she did, about both of them, which was why this was so exquisitely painful, and even more so knowing that the baby was his…he even looked like him, she saw now…more than Chad had.
“Listen to me, Ophélie. And hear me. He hadn't made up his mind yet. He told me he didn't see how he could ever leave you, you had been so good to him in the beginning, and always, he knew that…he was a selfish man, he only did what he wanted to, and he wanted me, but I think he was only playing. We had a lot in common. I wanted him. I always did. And when I saw my chance, when you and the kids were in France, I took it. I grabbed it. He didn't. He walked right into it, but I'm not even sure he loved me. Maybe he didn't. He might never have left you. He hadn't decided. You have to know that. He did not die, having decided to leave you. He wasn't sure. That's why I wrote him the letter. I was trying to convince him. You can see that. He may well have decided to stay with you. I'm not sure he ever loved either of us, to tell you the truth. I'm not even sure he was capable of it. He was brilliant and narcissistic. I don't know if he loved me. But if he loved either of us, if he loved anyone, it was you. He said so. And I think he believed it. I always thought he was a shit to you, and you deserved better. But I do think, to the extent that he could, he loved you. And I want you to know that now.”
“Don't ever speak to me again.” Ophélie spat the words at her, and then turned, and on trembling legs she walked back down the stairs to her car. She had left it running on the sidewalk. She didn't look back at Andrea. She never wanted to see her again, and Andrea knew she wouldn't. Andrea was sobbing as she watched her drive off erratically, but at least she had told Ophélie the truth, as she knew it. Ted hadn't been sure what he was going to do. And he may have loved neither of them, but at least Ophélie deserved to know that he felt he owed her something, and might have stayed with her. Ophélie might well have been the winner and not the loser. But in the end, they had all lost. Ted, Chad, Ophélie, Andrea, and even her baby… all losers. He had died with the decision unmade, and instead of destroying the letter, he had left it for her to find it. Maybe he wanted her to. Maybe he expected her to. Maybe it was his way of manipulating the solution. Neither of them would ever know. But all Andrea had left to give he
r was the truth, that he wasn't sure, that he didn't know when he died…and that maybe… only maybe…he had loved her, as best he could.
21
OPHÉLIE NEVER KNEW HOW SHE DROVE BACK TO THE house, or how she got there. She parked the car in their driveway, and went inside. Pip was still sitting where she had left her on the steps, clinging to the dog.
“What happened? Where did you go?” If humanly possible, her mother looked even worse than she had half an hour earlier, and she felt sick again as she crawled up the stairs, and walked into her bedroom looking dazed.
“Nothing happened,” she said, with eyes that only stared, and a heart that had been gouged out with a single letter. They had done it together. He and Andrea. It had taken them a year, but they had finally killed her. Ophélie turned to look at Pip as though she couldn't see her. As though she was blind suddenly. The robot had returned, and it was utterly, totally broken, with sparks shooting everywhere, a system that had misfired and was self-destroying as Pip watched. “I'm going to bed now” was all she said to Pip, and then turned off the lights and lay there, staring into space. Pip would have screamed if she had dared, but she was afraid to make things even worse. She ran to her father's den then and dialed the phone. She was crying when he answered. He couldn't understand her at first, and he sounded unusually happy.
“Something happened… there's something wrong with my mother.” Matt came sharply to earth as he listened. He had never heard Pip sound like that, not even close. She was panicked, and he could hear the tremor in her voice.
“Is she hurt? Tell me quickly, Pip. Do you need to call 911?”
“I don't know. I think she's gone crazy. She won't tell me.” She described everything that had happened, and he asked to speak to her mother. But when she went back to her mother's room, the door was locked and she wouldn't answer. Pip was crying harder when she came back to speak to him on the phone. He didn't like the sound of any of it, but he was afraid to make matters worse by calling the police and having them break down the door. He told Pip to go back and knock again, and tell her he was on the phone.
Pip knocked for a long time, and she could finally hear a sound in the room. It sounded as though something had fallen down, like a lamp or a table, and then slowly she opened the door. She looked like she'd been crying, and still was, but she didn't look as crazed as she had half an hour before.
Pip looked at her in despair, and touched her hand as though to make sure she was real, and spoke in a shaking voice. “Matt's on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
“Tell him I'm tired,” she said, looking down at her now-only child, as though seeing her for the first time. “I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry …” She finally understood what she was doing to her child, it was what they had done to her. “Tell him I can't talk right now. I'll call him tomorrow.”
“He says if you don't talk to him, he's coming in.” Ophélie wanted to tell her that she shouldn't have called him, but she knew Pip had no one else to call.
Ophélie didn't say another word, she walked back into her bedroom and picked up the phone. It was dark, but Pip could see the lamp she'd knocked over on the floor. It was the noise she had heard. She had stumbled in the dark.
“Hello.” It sounded like a voice from the dead, and Matt was as worried as Pip had been.
“Ophélie, what's happening? Pip is scared to death. Do you want me to come in?” She knew he would, all she had to do was ask, but she didn't want him or anyone else. Not even Pip. Not yet. Not right now. Or maybe ever. She had never felt so alone in her life, not even on the day he died.
“I'm all right,” she said unconvincingly. “Don't come in.”
“Tell me what happened.” He was firm, and strong.
“I can't.” It was the voice of a waif. “Not now.”
“I want you to tell me what's wrong.” She shook her head, and he could hear her sob. He was worried sick. “I'm coming in.”
“Please don't. I want to be alone.” She sounded saner again. She was coming in and out of some kind of hysteria, or panic, and he had no idea what it was.
“You can't do this to Pip.”
“I know…I know… I'm sorry …” She couldn't stop crying.
“I want to come in, but I don't want to intrude on you. I wish I knew what the hell is happening.”
“I can't talk about it now.”
“Do you think you can pull yourself together?” It sounded like she had snapped, and at that distance, he couldn't assess how bad it was. It sounded pretty bad to him. And he had no idea what had caused it. Maybe the holiday. Maybe she couldn't stand the reality of her double loss. What he didn't know was that it was now a treble loss, she had lost not only Ted and Chad, but all her illusions about their marriage as well. It was almost more than she could bear.
“I don't know,” she said in answer to his question.
“Do you want me to get help?” He was still thinking of calling 911. He thought of calling Andrea, she was closer, but a sixth sense he didn't quite trust told him not to call anyone.
“No, don't call. I'll be all right. I just need time.”
“Do you have anything you can take to calm down?” Although he didn't like that idea either. He didn't want her sedated and alone with Pip. That would be upsetting for her too.
“I don't need anything to calm down. I'm dead. They killed me.” She was crying harder again.
“Who killed you?”
“I don't want to talk about it. Ted is gone.”
“I know he is. I know …” It was worse than he thought, and for a minute he wondered if she was drunk.
“I mean really gone. Forever. And so is our marriage. I'm not even sure it ever was.” Andrea's reassurances meant nothing now.
“I understand,” he said, mostly to calm her down.
“No, you don't. And neither did I. I found a letter.”
“From Ted?” He sounded shocked. “Like a suicide note?” He suddenly wondered if he had killed himself and Chad. It would have explained how she sounded. Not much else would.
“A homicide note.” Ophélie was not making sense. But clearly, something terrible had happened.
“Ophélie, do you think you can get through the night?”
“Do I have a choice?” She sounded dead.
“No, you don't, not with Pip there. The only choice you have is whether I come into town or not.” But for once, he didn't want to leave the beach. He wanted to explain it to her, but not now. It had to wait.
“I can get through the night.” What difference did it make now? Nothing did, from her perspective.
“I want you and Pip to come out tomorrow.” It was what they had planned, and now more than ever, he wanted her there, or he would come in.
“I don't think I can.” She was being honest with him. She couldn't imagine driving to Safe Harbour. And he didn't like the idea either. She was in no condition to drive.
“If you're not up to it, I'll drive in. I'll call you in the morning. And I'll call you in an hour to see how you are. Maybe you should sleep alone tonight, if you're too upset. It sounds like you need some time to yourself, and this might be hard on Pip.” It already was.
“I'll ask her what she wants. You don't have to call me back. I'll be fine.”
“I'm not convinced yet,” he said, sounding strained, he was worried about both of them. “Let me talk to Pip.” She called Pip to the phone, and Pip took it in the den. Matt told her to call him if anything happened, and if things got too bad, to call 911.
“She looks a little better,” Pip reported, and when she went back to see her mother, Ophélie had turned the lights on in her room. She still looked deathly pale, but she was trying to reassure Pip.
“I'm sorry. I just…I think I got scared.” It was all she could say to explain what had happened to her. She was not going to tell her the story. Ever. Or that Andrea's baby was her half brother.
“Me too,” Pip said quietly, and crawled onto her mother's bed and into h
er arms. She felt icy cold, and Pip gently put a blanket on her to keep her warm. “Do you want anything, Mom?” She brought her a glass of water, and Ophélie took a sip, just to please the child. She felt terrible that she had frightened her so badly. She had nearly lost her mind, and had for a while.
“I'm okay. Why don't you sleep here tonight?” Ophélie took her clothes off and put her nightgown on, and Pip came back in her pajamas with the dog. They lay holding each other for a long time, and then Matt called. Pip assured him that everything was all right, and she sounded better, so he had to assume they were. It sounded as though it had been a rotten night for both of them. And before he hung up, he assured Pip that one way or another, he would see her the next day. And for the first time that night, Matt told Pip he loved her. He knew she needed to hear it, and he needed to say it to her.
Pip snuggled up to her mother then, and neither of them slept for a long time. Pip kept glancing up to check on her mother, and when they finally fell asleep, they slept with the lights on that night, to keep the demons away.
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