15. The Pines
15
THE PINES
With her mind on the wedding for most of the day, Tayla couldn’t wait to leave work. The more she thought about it, the more that feeling of dread surfaced.
By the time she reached her parents’ house, the air held a distinct chill, even with the sun shining in a cloudless blue sky. She’d walk the river track before dinner, but right now, she wanted to text Tim. Good old Tim. He’d always been her rock.
Tayla sat on the steps of the veranda and rummaged through her bag for her phone. Holding it steady, she gathered her thoughts.
Tayla: We had the rehearsal.
Tim: And?
Tayla: Um…well…
Tim: I knew it.
Tayla: Yep. Butterflies and moonbeams and starlight.
Tim: Not surprised one bit.
Tayla hit the blush emoji and pushed send. She sat on the steps a little longer, her thoughts still on Mitch and that amazing kiss. How could she be both excited and terrified at the same time ?
During the days that followed, Tayla pushed the impending nuptials to the back of her mind. But at night, when her deal with Mitch, Hayden’s betrayal, and her father’s struggle with post-surgery depression consumed her, she went to bed before nine and waited for sleep to smother the blues.
They say time heals. But as her thoughts drifted between Hayden and Mitch, she wondered how long it would be before she had the guts to block Hayden on her phone. How long before the hurt of his betrayal waned.
Tim, in all his excited wedding-day glory, had organized every detail of her half of the affair. And as Tayla fussed with her hair and makeup on the ‘big day,’ she gave thanks for having a best friend who loved the pomp and pageantry of tying the knot—be it a fake elopement or otherwise.
Her two-piece nude-pink satin outfit came via a friend of Ruby’s, a fashion blogger who’d designed and sewn the outfit for a photo shoot, only to have it rejected at the last minute. When Tayla first tried it on, she’d had her doubts. After all, with its full skirt of darted pleats falling from a wide waistband, and a form-fitting cropped-sleeve top that showed just enough midriff to make it interesting, the style could never be called traditional. But the more she’d looked at it hanging from the back of her bedroom door, the more she loved it.
Memories of her Sydney dress surfaced. Sleek and unadorned, the ivory satin had allowed little room for movement. And as Tayla’s thoughts churned, she realized it matched the feeling of that day. Perfectly.
Now, as she slipped into her second wedding dress of the year, she wondered how Mitch would react to her radical choice. Would he even notice?
And what about the kiss? It was one thing to share a kiss in his office with the door closed and the blinds casting a discreet light across the room. But it would be quite another to kiss in front of Luka and Tim.
They hadn’t seen each other since then, but the memory of that kiss lingered until she’d almost forgotten why she disliked him. And as she’d left the packing shed that day, hurrying home with her heart thumping in her chest, she’d failed to stop the chatter that was Mitchel Harrington. His smell, the way he kissed with passion, and the feel of his hands as he held her face—like she was precious to him. And those three small things amounted to one big thing. Trouble.
Tayla turned from the mirror when Tim knocked. “Come on, you,” he called through her door. “We don’t want to be late. He’ll think you’re not coming.”
She opened the door and did a twirl, her hands shaking with nerves.
“Wow. Look at you. Now that’s how a bride’s done right there. Fabulous.”
“Thanks.” She held out her hands in front of her. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“Most brides are.” Tim pulled her in for a hug. “But he’ll show. You won’t be left this time. I promise.”
She frowned. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because Mitch Harrington is a man of his word. And while your reasons for doing this are as unconventional as that gown, I truly admire your courage.”
Tayla swallowed the lump forming in her throat. If they didn’t leave soon, she’d shoo Tim out the door, then lock herself inside the house until she came to her senses. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Tim always smiled freely, but there was one smile he saved for the special people in his life, and that was the one he gave her at that moment. “Right, let’s go take a peek through the lens. My fingers are itching to make magic. ”
Tayla followed him into the living room, her dress making magic of its own. “Who was at the door earlier?”
“A florist.” Tim picked up an impressive bouquet of autumn wildflowers from the hall table and handed them to her. “Looks like your fiancé has a touch of the traditional in him after all.”
Mitch going to the trouble of sending her flowers warmed her inside. “They’re beautiful.” She inhaled deeply. “And smell divine.”
He pointed to the attached envelope. “There’s a message.”
Tayla removed the rough paper card from the envelope and read to herself as Tim repeatedly clicked the shutter.
Tayla,
Thank you for taking a chance
and trusting me to share this time with you.
And while I don’t want to be a dick about it,
I just want you to know…
that practice kiss was perfect.
Mitch x.
A warm blush crept up Tayla’s neck and face. She turned to Tim and laughed. “Put that camera down right now.”
“No way. That’s my best shot so far.”
Two hundred yards from the Eastern Pacific Highway, a plantation of pine trees flanked the rock formations of the coast, like sentinels keeping watch over the bond between land and sea. Mitch had picked the spot, and when Tim and Tayla arrived an hour before sunset, apart from the odd seagull and a scurry of wild rabbits as they drove up the gravel road, the place was deserted .
Tayla stepped from the car, her skin taut with a sudden chill as she inhaled salt-filled air. She could do this. Mitch wasn’t here yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t show. Watching Tim set up his gear, she smiled. Her friend was passionate about everything he did, but photography had always been his greatest love.
For the next while, he directed the photo shoot with his usual flamboyant flair. And as she stood between the pines in her nude-colored sandals, the last of the sun’s rays streaming through the branches and illuminating the satin of her skirt, Tayla felt strangely serene.
“Okay, face this way.” Tim adjusted the lens. “Good, good. Look down. Drop the flowers to your side. That’s great. Perfect. We’ve got this.”
“What’s the time?”
“Never mind.” He clicked off another few shots.
“But the sun’s about to set.”
“Tayla. Stop.” Tim lowered his camera and reached into the bag for another lens. “He’ll be here. Come on.”
She followed him across the stack of pancake rocks and looked out to the South Pacific Ocean. There was little to no wind, but the waves were loud and excitable. To the north, surfers bobbed on their boards—black dots in a vast sea of sunset hues—waiting for their turn in the lineup. And behind her, as the coast curved around the bay, the city of Clifton Falls dominated the distant vista.
Despite her fear of open water, Tayla loved Petrie Bay. When they were younger, she and Tim would meet at the beach at dawn and cook toast over an open fire while watching the sunrise and putting their world in order. They’d talk books and music, and sometimes, boys and how neither of them felt they belonged. It seemed like only yesterday.
Now her world was about to turn upside down. There’d be no order in the coming months. No sense of contentment as she packed up her family home and moved away from all she held dear. Her mother and father, Ruby and Lisa—her tiny Bondi apartment. All she could do was take a deep breath, brace herself, and hope she landed safely on the other side.
“Tayla?”
“Yes.” She looked up, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
Tim cocked his head toward the car driving down the road. “Look.”