22. Last Move
22
LAST MOVE
For the next few days, overwhelmed by packing at Cherry Grove and busy shifts at the hospital, Tayla kept her distance from Mitch as her feelings for him struggled for order. He didn’t seem to notice. Even when she left the loft early and arrived home late, he never asked where she’d been. By Friday, she’d transferred most of the smaller items, one box at a time, to her parents’ condo in the retirement complex.
That same day, Mitch left for Tulloch Point just after breakfast. An invitation to join him was refused. Visiting Tulloch Point no longer held any appeal, and anyway, she had too much work to do at the house and full shifts at the hospital the following week. Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gone to visit Prue.
The removal company arrived at ten on Saturday morning. Several hours later, the only thing she needed for her parents’ new home was a bunch of flowers and some food for the fridge. But with no word of their return, the flowers and groceries could wait.
Back at the loft, Tayla trudged up the stairs. She fed Edward, then flopped down on the sofa and flicked on the wireless speaker, losing herself in moody music as memories of her teenage years at Cherry Grove floated over the tree rows, up the stairs, and around the room.
The sound of her phone ringing brought her back to the present. Mitch. She picked it up and moved to his office so she didn’t have to turn down the music. “Hello.”
“Hi. How’s Edward? He seemed a bit off when I left.”
I’m fine, thanks for asking. “He’s okay, eating well. I might let him sleep in my room tonight.”
“Lucky dog. Is everything else all right?”
She frowned at the ‘lucky dog’ quip. “Yes, I think so.”
“So, you’re not out on the town tonight?” His voice softened.
“No, not tonight.”
“Okay…well, I’ll probably be home Tuesday.” She could hear people calling him in the background, but he hesitated before continuing, “Text me if you have any problems. See you then.”
Tayla opened her mouth to carry on the conversation, but he’d already hung up.
The following day, with Valentina in tow, Tayla returned to Cherry Grove to finish the cleaning. By late afternoon, apart from the carpet, the house was spotless.
It wasn’t until Monday evening, as she stood on the balcony off the living room and gazed over the orchard to her family home, that the enormity of the move hit her. The evening had stilled, and the realization that she would never again sleep in her old bedroom, make pancakes in the kitchen, or soak in the clawfoot bathtub filled her with a lonely sadness. That loneliness didn’t come from being alone; it came from her own inability to ask for help when she needed it. Her inability to let go.
Noticing vehicle lights on the side road, Tayla wondered if it was Mitch. But as the car drew closer, she realized it was only Ned. The wave of disappointment that crashed over her was puzzling. After all, she meant nothing to him, and he meant nothing to her. But when Mitch texted the following morning to say he was staying on for a few days, that disappointment intensified.
The week passed without incident until Thursday. On her way home from the hospital, Tayla sat at City Beach, picking at the teriyaki chicken and rice from the Japanese restaurant on Seaview Road. As usual during these reflective times, Hayden entered her thoughts. His betrayal had played out in front of her very eyes. How could she have been so out of tune with their relationship that she’d failed to notice?
Tayla removed her shoes and walked to the water’s edge, hitching up her skirt as the swash rushed at her toes. Taking a series of deep breaths to calm her nerves, she contemplated her fears and regrets and life at Lime Tree Hill until she felt numb inside.
When she pulled up outside the packing shed and saw Mitch’s white Hilux parked in the garage, Tayla stayed in the car for a moment, gathering the strength to face him.
The door to the loft stood open, and as she climbed the stairs, she heard Mitch on the phone, his tone jovial and light. Looking up from the couch, he smiled briefly when she placed her keys on the sideboard. As she opened the fridge to grab a bottle of juice, he stood, moved to his office and shut the door.
Standing at the sink, Tayla poured the juice into a glass and took several gulps, her throat dry from the salty teriyaki. Mitch returned to the room a few seconds later. He offered a curt ‘hello’ before inquiring about her day, Edward, and her father.
With the pleasantries out of the way, he asked her to sit for a minute. He wanted to get something off his chest, he told her. Something important. They sat at the table, the remnants of his dinner pushed aside, and as Tayla studied him across an open newspaper, he leaned forward, entwining his fingers in front of his lips. She noticed a tightness to his jaw and how his eyes narrowed. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
“I did a lot of thinking on the way home this afternoon.” He held her gaze, waiting for an acknowledgment perhaps. But over the years, she’d learned not to preempt conversations that started with ‘I did a lot of thinking.’
“This whole thing,” he continued. “You and me…well, anyway, I’m finding it frustrating, to be honest, and I don’t know how to make it right.”
She didn’t want to react but felt herself frown as he spoke.
“You’ve had so much on your plate lately, and I’m sorry I haven’t had time to help with the packing, but we’ll get stuck in tomorrow.” He studied her as if waiting for a reaction. “It’s just, with the move from Australia, your father’s illness, and the crap I’ve put you through, do you think you need to talk to someone? A counselor maybe?”
Tayla pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d had counseling before, so wasn’t opposed to the idea, but she had Ruby and Tim to talk to. And besides, they’d only been married a few weeks. How had he reached this conclusion when they’d scarcely spent any time together?
“I don’t want you to be unhappy here.”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“Were you in a relationship in Sydney?”
Tayla hesitated. She didn’t understand this sudden interest in her past. “For a while. Why?”
“You seem to be missing someone…something.”
Silence stretched between them.
“Is it still too raw?” he asked.
“A bit.” She forced a tight smile. “It’s harder when you didn’t see it coming.”
Mitch nodded. “How long were you together?”
“Too long as it turned out. But it’s all good.” She rose from the table and returned the juice to the fridge, swallowing lumps of emotion as tears trickled over her lashes. “I might go to bed. I’m sorry me living here hasn’t worked out the way you planned. Goodnight.”
“Tayla?”
Leaving Mitch with his questions, Tayla shut the bedroom door and flopped down on her bed. She hadn’t brushed her teeth or removed her makeup, but she didn’t want to go out there again, not while he was still up. She stood and reached into her gym bag for a wet wipe to rub over her face and hands. Not ideal, but it would have to do.
With the curtains and window open, she lay on the floor, the cool breeze wafting over her as she watched the hazy band of the Milky Way fill the window frame. She sat up when he knocked.
“Tayla? Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m almost asleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When Mitch didn’t respond, Tayla wondered if he’d given up and gone to bed. She wanted to open the door, to have him hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But their agreement didn’t include touch. Or empathy. Or companionship.
“Okay. Sleep well.”
Her mouth parched, Tayla woke as she’d slept—still in her cotton dress. When she opened her closet, panda eyes stared back at her from the mirror, and her cheeks looked tight from lack of moisturizer.
Mitch had left for work by the time she entered the kitchen, which meant she didn’t have to face him over breakfast. Edward moved to her side and lay down, openly loving her with those big brown eyes. “Hey, boy. Are you happy here?” He blinked and rested his head on his paws. Too cute.
As she drove to work, her thoughts struggled for some semblance of order. She frustrated him, that’s what he’d said. Did he want her to move out?
Later that afternoon, as her last patient left, her mother called with unexpected news. “They’re taking your father back into the operating room. He’s not doing so good, they’re not sure why.”
Tayla struggled to focus on her mother’s words as she hurried down the stairs. “What? I thought you guys were almost ready to come home.” Knowing the risks involved in two surgeries in a row at his age, she went to say more but stopped herself. Her mother needed support, not more reasons to worry. “I’ve just finished my shift. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay, darling. But only if you have time.”
“Of course I have time. What did the doctor actually say?”
Her mum sighed down the phone. “She said it could just be a failed stent. I knew something was wrong. He’s been so uncomfortable. Too scared to come home. Anyway, how’s Mitch?”
What could she say? That her husband was concerned for her welfare, her state of mind. “He’s fine. Busy as usual. Anyway, I’ll text you my flight details. Talk soon.”
When she arrived home, Mitch was nowhere in sight. She called his phone, but his voicemail kicked in after several rings, and she didn’t have the energy to leave a message. Right now, her father was her priority.
Tayla dragged her full suitcase down the stairs and caught a ride with one of the staff, who dropped her at the airport an hour before her seven-thirty flight departed. As she waited to move through to the departure lounge, she called Mitch again to the same response. “Mitch Harrington. Leave a message.”