37. Moot Point
37
MOOT POINT
With Mitch away at his usual Wednesday night poker game, Tayla pulled into the retirement complex for a dinner date with her dad while her mother played bridge.
Jean greeted her with a warm hug and a smile when she walked into the room.
“Where’s Dad? I just called in to see what he felt like for dinner.”
“He’ll be home soon. He’s down at the center, playing mahjong with his cronies. It gets him out from under my feet. But you choose. You know he’s not fussy.” She narrowed her eyes. “You look tired. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“What? No! Of course not.”
Her mother moved into the kitchen and poured two glasses of lemonade from a jug on the island. She handed one to Tayla. “Why did you say it like that? I know your generation thinks you can have it all, but don’t leave it too long. Your eggs aren’t getting any younger.”
Moot point. “Obviously, but I’m only twenty-six.” Tayla sipped her drink, the sourness making her wince, as did living a lie. And while her mother didn’t need to know everything about her life, Tayla hated keeping secrets from her parents. It was time to change the subject.
“I have to hop over to Sydney to sort out my apartment. If you guys are okay without me for a couple of weeks, I might go in the next few days.” She took a bliss ball from a jar in front of her and popped it into her mouth, the sweet taste of dates and almonds settling her nerves a little.
Having spent all afternoon mulling over her options, she couldn’t shake the feeling that returning to Sydney was something she should do sooner rather than later.
She needed that closure.
“We’ll be fine. What about Mitch? Is he going?”
Tayla thought of Mitch, lying on the bed with his hands behind his head as he watched her dress that morning, that lazy gaze of his washing over her. Of his gentle touch and not so gentle release. “Probably not.”
“He could do with a break. And you could too. Your feet have hardly touched the ground since you came home. Mind you,” her mother continued, “without your help with the orchard, I don’t know where we’d be now. And as for Mitch, I’m glad you’ve found each other. But…what are you so afraid of?”
Tayla looked up from screwing the lid back on the jar of bliss balls. “What do you mean?”
“With Mitch. I get the impression you’re holding your breath, waiting for something bad to happen.”
Her mother was right. That’s exactly what she was doing. Holding her breath, marking time, putting her life on hold. “I’ve always been cautious; you know that.”
“Let go a bit, eh? What’s the worst that can happen?” She smiled at Tayla. “He loves you very much. The way he looks at you, with that warmth in his expression.”
Tayla had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Her mother was too cute. “You’re such a hopeless romantic. ”
“You should try it sometime. Relax a little. There are no guarantees in this life, so we might as well have fun while we’re here.”
The loft was still when Tayla walked upstairs later that evening. She glanced up at the oversized clock, its steady tick reinforcing the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She’d just flopped down on the sofa when the phone rang in Mitch’s office. Thinking it might be him, she ran to answer it.
As she picked up, she glanced at the screen saver of his desktop computer. A photo of her in her wedding dress, standing on the pancake rocks at Petrie Bay, a soft smile on her face, filled the screen. What on earth?
“Lime Tree Hill, Tayla speaking.”
“Hi.”
“Who is this?”
“What? You’ve forgotten what I sound like already?”
She tightened her grip on the handset. “Hayden? Why are you calling the landline?”
“Because you won’t return my calls.”
“I can’t talk right now.” Tayla sat at the desk, spellbound, watching as the screen saver flicked from one frame to the next—all wedding photos, all of her.
“Please don’t hang up. I just… Oliver died. Yesterday. He was hit by a car while out riding his bike.”
She swiveled in the chair, away from the screen, her hands shaking. “Oliver? No! I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.
“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, asked without thought. A knee-jerk reaction to news no one ever wants to receive. Of course he wasn’t okay. Oliver had been Hayden’s closest friend.
“I need you, Tayla. My life’s falling apart. I don’t love her like I do you. And now Oliver’s gone. Just like that. ”
“Hayden, please don’t?—”
“I can be in Auckland next weekend. Fly up to meet me. We’ll talk, visit the museum, eat some decent Kiwi food.”
“I can’t, you know that,” she murmured. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but?—”
“You really do love him?”
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Is that the truth, or are you scared to turn back?”
“Please don’t do this. Tell me more about Oliver. What did you do the last time you saw each other?”
The call lasted longer than she’d expected as they reminisced about their friend. By the time Tayla sat the phone in its base, it was after ten and the loft had that lonely winter feel about it.
Tayla sat forward in Mitch’s chair and watched the slideshow, warm tears trickling down her cheek as she struggled to pull herself together.
Memories of her life with Hayden and the bond of old friends filled her thoughts. She’d never see Oliver again, or stroll along the boardwalk on a Sunday morning. And if she stayed in Clifton Falls, she’d probably never again stand on Bondi Beach with her toes gripping the sand against the tide. Never take those surfing lessons she’d paid for.
Would she ever conquer her fear of the open water?
Tayla wandered into the kitchen and pulled a carton of frozen yogurt out of the freezer. As she ate, she thought of Oliver. His slow smile and quick wit. While she hadn’t known him well, they’d struck up an instant rapport the first time they met. He’d been easy to talk to. Reserved and polite, but engaged and interesting, very much like Hayden.
Dessert over, Tayla was about to have a bath when her phone lit up with Mitch’s number. She’d called him earlier to no reply, but now, after her conversation with Hayden, she was all talked out. Her finger hit Accept before she had a chance to stop it .
“Hey. Sorry I missed your call.” He sounded tired, preoccupied, as was often the case lately. “What’s up?”
“Actually, I wanted to run something by you, but we can talk about it tomorrow night if you’re home.”
“Tell me now. I have a few minutes.”
“Oh, okay. I might go to Sydney for a couple of weeks, just until my next contract starts. My tenant’s moving out, so it seems a good time to tidy up a few loose ends. What do you think?”
While Tayla waited for his reply, she wanted to fill the void but remembered to practice the pause.
“Right,” he finally said. “When do you leave?”
“As soon as I can arrange a flight.”
“Okay. Fine.” Mitch’s tone was flat, annoyed. She wanted him to say he’d come with her. That he couldn’t bear for them to be apart. But possessiveness wasn’t his style.
“I have three weeks off, so it’s perfect timing before you leave for Milford Sound.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She could hear music in the background as someone called out to him, and his muffled reply. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you’re still here.”
He cut the call.
She sat at the kitchen island, her head in her hands. Men!
Tayla woke with a fright and sat bolt upright. Hearing a car on the driveway, she checked the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was after midnight.
The downstairs door opened and closed, and as Mitch walked up the stairs, she snuggled under the covers and waited. He didn’t come in straight away. She heard him talking to Edward, the fridge open and close, and a few moments later, the light in the other bathroom switch on. She wondered why he was home. It was the first Wednesday night he’d spent at Lime Tree since she’d lived there.
Tayla rolled onto her side, and as he entered the room and slipped into bed beside her, her whole body tensed with anticipation. She still couldn’t get over how sensual she felt whenever he was near. Although she’d never been attracted to the muscly type, when Mitch curled in behind her, one arm slipping under her pillow and the other pulling her close, that sense of belonging—of being safe—had her swallowing a lump in her throat.
“Hey. How come you’re home?” she whispered.
“I missed you. Needed a hug.” He inhaled deeply, his face nuzzling into her neck. “You’re everything that’s good in my world, do you know that?”
Tayla turned in his arms. He cradled her face with gentle hands and kissed her, his erection stiffening between them.
“About Sydney,” he said, his voice soft and his tone sincere. “You don’t have to ask my permission to live your life. I’m not your keeper.”
“I know that, but I didn’t want to make plans without telling you.”
He kissed her again and pulled her closer. As usual, her response was swift and strong. That flutter in the pit of her stomach, the tightening of her breasts, and the way her hands reached for the silky warmth of him without thought or control.
It had started to rain—soft patters on the iron roof and a light trickle down the windowpane. And in the distance, a muffled clap of thunder announced the onset of the forecasted storm. They kissed. Touched. Smiled. Mitch’s hand slipped between her legs, holding her hostage, her release at his control.
A security light flicked on with a gust of wind, casting a shadow across his face. Closing his eyes, he murmured her name under his breath.
Mitch reached for a condom and watched her roll it on, a half-smile playing on his lips. Tayla tightened her grip around his erection as his breathing quickened, thoughts of Sydney pushed aside as she fell under his spell.
“You don’t know what you do to me.” He rolled her onto her front and lifted her butt into the air. “I need to be inside you.”
It was her new favorite position, and as she braced herself against him, Tayla closed her eyes tight and let him take her hard and fast until she could no longer think straight. She called his name as she came, and moments later, he collapsed on top of her, his face in her neck as he too let go.