By nightfall, they were both anxious to go to bed. Pip turned the television on in her mother's room, and Ophélie asked her to turn it off, or go watch it somewhere else. But Pip didn't want to be alone, so she stayed in the silent room with her mother, and it was a mercy when they both finally went to sleep in each other's arms. Ophélie hadn't told her, but Pip knew that her mother had spent several hours that day crying in Chad's room. It had been an utterly awful day for them in every way. There was nothing good about the anniversary, no obvious blessing, no compensation for what they'd gone through. It was a day, like most of the last year, that was entirely about loss.

And in the morning, when the phone rang, they were both at the kitchen table, where Ophélie was silently reading the paper, while Pip played with the dog. It was Matt.

“I don't dare ask how yesterday was,” he said cautiously, after he had said hello to Ophélie.

“Don't. It was as bad as I thought it would be. But at least it's over. Thank you so much for the flowers.” It was hard to explain, even to herself, why anniversaries were so meaningful. There was no reason it should be so much worse than the day after or the day before, but it was. It was like a celebration of the worst day of their lives. There was not a single benefit in it. The entire day was the anniversary of the worst day that had ever dawned, and it was flooded with memories of an agonizing time. He sounded infinitely sympathetic, but had no wisdom to offer, having never been through it himself. His own losses had stretched over time, and finally become evident. They hadn't happened all at once in a single hideous instant like theirs.

“I didn't want to intrude, so I didn't call,” he apologized.

“It was better that way,” she said honestly. Neither of them had wanted to talk to anyone, although Pip probably would have liked to talk to him, she realized. “Your flowers were beautiful. We were very touched.”

“I was wondering if you'd like to come out today. It might do you both good. What do you think?” She really didn't want to, but she thought Pip might, given the opportunity. And she felt guilty just rejecting the invitation out of hand.

“I'm not very good company.” She still felt utterly worn out by the previous day's emotions, especially the hours she had spent sobbing on Chad's bed, muffling the sounds of her crying in his pillow, which still smelled faintly like him. She had never washed the sheets or the pillowcase, and knew she never would. “I can't speak for Pip though. She might like to see you. Why don't I talk to her and call you back,” but Pip was already waving frantically when her mother hung up.

“I want to! I want to!” she said, looking instantly revived, and Ophélie didn't have the heart to disappoint her, although she wasn't in the mood to go anywhere herself. It was hardly a long journey. It only took half an hour, and if it turned out to be too difficult, Ophélie knew they could come back in a couple of hours. She knew Matt would understand. She wasn't much in the mood herself. “Can we go, Mom? Please???”

“All right,” Ophélie conceded. “But I don't want to stay long. I'm tired.” Pip knew it was more than that, but she hoped that once she got her there, her mother would perk up. She knew her mother liked talking to Matt, and she had the feeling she'd feel a lot better walking along the ocean on the sand.

Ophélie told Matt they would be there by noon, and he was pleased. She offered to bring lunch, and he told her not to worry about it. He said he'd make an omelette, and if Pip hated it, he had bought peanut butter and jelly for her the day before. It sounded like just what the doctor ordered, and was.

He was waiting for them outside when they drove up, sitting in an old deck chair on his deck, and enjoying the sun. He looked pleased to see them, and Pip threw her arms around him, and then, as always now, Ophélie kissed him on both cheeks. But he noticed instantly how sad she was. She looked as though there was a thousand-pound weight on her heart, which there was. He sat her in his deck chair, and put an old plaid blanket over her, insisting she stay there and relax, and then he enlisted Pip to help him make mushroom omelettes and help him chop herbs. She liked helping him, and set the table, and by the time Matt sent her to call her mother in, Ophélie was more relaxed, and felt as though the ice block on her chest was thawing a little in the sun. She was quiet during lunch, but by the time he served strawberries and cream, she was actually smiling, and Pip was immensely relieved. Ophélie went to get something out of the car, while he made tea, and Pip whispered to him with a worried look.

“I think she looks a little better, don't you?” He did, and was touched by Pip's obvious concern.

“She'll be okay. Yesterday was just hard on her, and on you. We'll go for a walk on the beach in a little while and it will do her good.”

Pip silently patted his hand in gratitude as her mother came back in. She had gone to get an article on the Wexler Center that she wanted to show Matt. It essentially explained all the things they did, and was very informative.

He read it carefully, nodding, and then looked at Ophélie with renewed respect. “It sounds like a remarkable place. What exactly do you do for them, Ophélie?” She had talked to him about it before, but she had always been intentionally vague.

“She works on the street with the outreach team,” Pip jumped in instantly, and Matt looked at both of them, shocked. It was not what Ophélie would have said, but it was too late to change it now.

“Are you serious?” He looked directly at her, and she nodded, trying to look unconcerned, but she shot a look at Pip, who realized she'd put her foot in it, and pretended to be playing with the dog. It was rare for Pip to make a faux pas, and she was embarrassed, and a little worried that her mother might be annoyed. “It says in the article that they spend their nights on the streets, bringing assistance to those who are too disabled or disoriented to come to the Center, and that they cover all the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city. Ophélie, that's a crazy thing for you to do. You can't do that.” He sounded horrified and looked worried as he stared at her. As far as Matt was concerned, this was not a piece of good news.

“It's not as dangerous as it sounds,” Ophélie said quietly, for once ready to strangle Pip, but she recognized that it wasn't her fault. It was natural for him to react that way. She was well aware of the risks herself, and they had in fact had a close call the week before, with a man on drugs brandishing a gun, but Bob had calmed him down, and convinced him to put the gun away. They had no right to take it away from him and hadn't. But it had reminded her again of the dangers that they confronted every time they went out. It was hard to tell Matt they didn't exist, when they both knew that they did. “The crew is very good, and highly trained. Two of the people I work with are excops, both are martial arts experts, and the third one is an ex–Navy SEAL.”

“I don't care who they are,” he said bluntly, “they can't guarantee to keep you safe, Ophélie. Things can go sour in an instant on the streets. And if you've been out there, you know that too. You can't afford that risk.” He glanced meaningfully at Pip, and then Ophélie suggested they all take a walk on the beach.

Matt still looked upset when they went out, and Pip ran ahead with the dog, while Matt and her mother walked more sedately down the beach. He was quick to bring the subject up again with her.

“You can't do this,” he said, objecting strenuously. “I don't have the right to tell you that you can't, but I wish I did. This is a death wish on your part, or some subliminal suicide wish, you can't take a risk like that, as Pip's only parent. But even disregarding that, why take a risk that you'll get hurt? Even if you don't get killed, all sorts of things could happen to you out there. Ophélie, I am begging you to reconsider.” He looked extremely somber as he spoke.

“I promise you, Matt, I know it could be dangerous,” she said calmly, trying to calm him as well. “But so are a lot of things. So is sailing, if you think about it. You could have an accident when you're alone on your boat. I honestly feel comfortable doing it. The people I work with are enormously skilled and good at what they do. I don't even feel at risk out there anymore.” It was almost true. She was so busy getting in and out of the van with Bob, and the others, she hardly thought of the potential dangers during their long nights. But she could see that she wasn't convincing Matt. He looked frantic.

“You're crazy,” he said unhappily. “If I were related to you, I would have you committed, or lock you in your room. But I'm not, unfortunately. And what's wrong with them? How can they let an untrained woman go out there on the streets with them? Don't they have any sense of responsibility for the people whose lives they risk?” He was nearly shouting into the wind as they walked, and Pip danced on ahead, happy to be back on the beach, as was Mousse, who was bounding and leaping and chasing birds and running up and down with driftwood in his teeth, but for once, Matt paid no attention to Pip or the dog. “They're as crazy as you are, for God's sake,” he said, furious with the people at the Center.

“Matt, I'm an adult. I have a right to make choices, and even to take risks. If I ever get the feeling it's too dangerous, I'll stop.”

“You'll be dead by then, for chrissake. How can you be so irresponsible? By the time you figure out that it's too dangerous, it'll be too late. I can't believe you can be so foolish.” As far as he was concerned, she had taken leave of her senses, and was clearly out of her head. He admitted that it was admirable, but thought it far too foolhardy for her to do, particularly in light of Pip, and her responsibilities to her.

“If something happens to me,” she said, trying to tease him out of his worries a little bit, “you'll just have to marry Andrea, and you can both take care of Pip. It would be great for her baby too.”

“I don't find that amusing,” he said, sounding almost as stern as Ted had from time to time, and it was very much unlike Matt, who was always easygoing, and kind. But he was extremely worried about her, and felt totally helpless to make her change her mind. “I'm not going to give up on this,” he warned her on the way back toward his house. “I am going to hound you until you give up this craziness. You can still work at the Center, and do whatever you do for them in the daytime. But this outreach program is for cowboys and lunatics, and people who have no one depending on them.”

“My partner in the van is a widower with three small children,” she said quietly, with a hand tucked into Matt's arm as they walked.

“Then he has a death wish too. And maybe if my wife had died and I had three small children to raise, I would too. All I know is that I can't let you do this. If you're looking for approval from me, don't. I won't give it to you. And if you're trying to worry me sick, I am. I'm going to be panicked every time I know you're going out on the streets, for your sake and Pip's,” and he almost added “and my own,” but he stopped himself and didn't.

“Pip shouldn't have told you,” Ophélie said calmly, and he shook his head in despair.

“I'm damn glad she did. Otherwise I never would have known. You need someone to talk sense into you, Ophélie. You have to give this some more thought. Promise me you will.”

“I will. But I swear to you, it's not as bad as it sounds. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll stop doing it. But if anything, I feel more comfortable about it now. The people on the outreach team are extremely responsible.” What she didn't tell him, though, was that the group was small, they often spread out, and in simple fact, if someone shot one of them, or lunged at them with a knife or gun, it was unlikely that the others could move fast enough to save someone, particularly as they weren't armed. You just had to be smart and fast and keep your eyes open, which they all did. But beyond that, for the most part, they had to rely on their own wits, the benevolence of the homeless they served, and the grace of God. There was no question in anyone's mind, at any given time, something bad could happen. And Matt had no problem whatsoever figuring that out.

“This conversation isn't over, Ophélie, I promise you that much,” he said, as they walked back to his house.

“I didn't plan to do this, Matt,” she said by way of explanation, “it just happened. They took me out with them one night, and I fell in love with it. Maybe you should come with us and see it for yourself,” she invited him, and he looked horrified.