Read Online Safe Harbour by Danielle Steel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Danielle Steel
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heart. But there were also deep emotional holes in each of them that the other filled. She had lost a father and brother, he both his children. And Matt and Pip each filled a need for the other.
“I locked myself in my room, and refused to come out,” Pip said with a grin. “I think she felt bad afterward. She was so rude to you. I'm sorry… she's different than she used to be. She worries about everything, and she gets mad about stupid, little stuff sometimes. And other times she doesn't seem to care about anything. I think she's confused.”
“Or suffering from post-traumatic stress,” he said sympathetically. He hadn't liked her much the day before, for obvious reasons. But he could also understand her point of view. He just thought she had expressed it a little too stridently. There had been something faintly hysterical about her pitch.
“What's that?” Pip asked, as she opened the bag of sandwiches and handed one to him. It was so comfortable being back with him. She loved talking to him, and watching him paint. “The post office thing you just talked about… what is it?”
“Thank you,” he said for the carefully wrapped sandwich, and then took a bite. “Post-traumatic stress. It's when something very shocking happens to someone, it's what happens to them afterward. It's kind of like they're in shock. Your mom probably still is. She had a terrific blow to her system when your brother and father died.”
“Do people like that ever get better again? Can they be fixed?” She'd been worried about it for nine months and had no one to ask. She had never felt as comfortable talking to Andrea, as she did with Matt. He was her friend, and Andrea was her mother's.
“I think so. It takes time. Is she any better than she was when it first happened?”
“Sort of,” Pip said pensively, but didn't sound convinced. “She sleeps a lot more now, and she doesn't talk as much as she used to before it happened. She almost never smiles. But she doesn't cry all the time either. She did at first,” and then she looked sheepish. “Me too…”
“So would I in your shoes. It would have been weird if you didn't, Pip. Half your family disappeared.” And what was left didn't even feel like one, but out of loyalty to her mother, she didn't say anything.
“My mom was really sorry about the things she said the other day.” Pip was still embarrassed about the way her mother had behaved.
“It's all right,” he said calmly, “she was right in some ways. I really am a stranger, and you don't know much about me. I could have been trying to fool you or do something bad to you, just as she said. She was right to be suspicious of me, and you should have been too.”
“Why? You were nice to me, and you helped me draw Moussy's hind legs. That was a nice thing to do. I still have the picture of him in my room.”
“How does it look?” he teased.
“Pretty good.” She grinned. And when he finished his sandwich, she handed him the apple. He cut it in half, and handed the better half back to her. “I always knew you were a good person, right from the first time I saw you.”
“How did you know?” He looked amused.
“I just knew. You have nice eyes.” She didn't tell him that she was touched when he looked sad, when he talked about his kids being so far away. She liked that about him too. It would have been worse if he didn't care about them.
“You have nice eyes too. I'd like to draw you one day. Maybe even paint you. What do you think of that?” He had been thinking about it since they met.
“I think my mom would like it a lot. Maybe I could give it to her for her birthday.”
“When's that?” He wasn't her mother's greatest fan yet, but he would have done it for Pip. Besides, he wanted to do a portrait of her. She was a remarkable little girl, and now his friend.
“December tenth,” she said solemnly.
“And when's yours?” he asked with interest. He always wanted to know more about her. She reminded
“I locked myself in my room, and refused to come out,” Pip said with a grin. “I think she felt bad afterward. She was so rude to you. I'm sorry… she's different than she used to be. She worries about everything, and she gets mad about stupid, little stuff sometimes. And other times she doesn't seem to care about anything. I think she's confused.”
“Or suffering from post-traumatic stress,” he said sympathetically. He hadn't liked her much the day before, for obvious reasons. But he could also understand her point of view. He just thought she had expressed it a little too stridently. There had been something faintly hysterical about her pitch.
“What's that?” Pip asked, as she opened the bag of sandwiches and handed one to him. It was so comfortable being back with him. She loved talking to him, and watching him paint. “The post office thing you just talked about… what is it?”
“Thank you,” he said for the carefully wrapped sandwich, and then took a bite. “Post-traumatic stress. It's when something very shocking happens to someone, it's what happens to them afterward. It's kind of like they're in shock. Your mom probably still is. She had a terrific blow to her system when your brother and father died.”
“Do people like that ever get better again? Can they be fixed?” She'd been worried about it for nine months and had no one to ask. She had never felt as comfortable talking to Andrea, as she did with Matt. He was her friend, and Andrea was her mother's.
“I think so. It takes time. Is she any better than she was when it first happened?”
“Sort of,” Pip said pensively, but didn't sound convinced. “She sleeps a lot more now, and she doesn't talk as much as she used to before it happened. She almost never smiles. But she doesn't cry all the time either. She did at first,” and then she looked sheepish. “Me too…”
“So would I in your shoes. It would have been weird if you didn't, Pip. Half your family disappeared.” And what was left didn't even feel like one, but out of loyalty to her mother, she didn't say anything.
“My mom was really sorry about the things she said the other day.” Pip was still embarrassed about the way her mother had behaved.
“It's all right,” he said calmly, “she was right in some ways. I really am a stranger, and you don't know much about me. I could have been trying to fool you or do something bad to you, just as she said. She was right to be suspicious of me, and you should have been too.”
“Why? You were nice to me, and you helped me draw Moussy's hind legs. That was a nice thing to do. I still have the picture of him in my room.”
“How does it look?” he teased.
“Pretty good.” She grinned. And when he finished his sandwich, she handed him the apple. He cut it in half, and handed the better half back to her. “I always knew you were a good person, right from the first time I saw you.”
“How did you know?” He looked amused.
“I just knew. You have nice eyes.” She didn't tell him that she was touched when he looked sad, when he talked about his kids being so far away. She liked that about him too. It would have been worse if he didn't care about them.
“You have nice eyes too. I'd like to draw you one day. Maybe even paint you. What do you think of that?” He had been thinking about it since they met.
“I think my mom would like it a lot. Maybe I could give it to her for her birthday.”
“When's that?” He wasn't her mother's greatest fan yet, but he would have done it for Pip. Besides, he wanted to do a portrait of her. She was a remarkable little girl, and now his friend.
“December tenth,” she said solemnly.
“And when's yours?” he asked with interest. He always wanted to know more about her. She reminded
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