The Last Goodbye

by Sarah Mayberry

  She couldn’t see Tyler’s face properly, but the grip on her hand tightened until it was almost painful.

  “So do you want to work here today?” she asked again.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Well, I’ll be honest, you’re something of a distraction. But I’ll suck it up.”

  His gaze fell to her breasts again. “I’m the distraction?”

  She loved the heat in his eyes, loved the way he made her feel sexy and beautiful and desirable.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a long day,” she said mischievously.

  They showered together after they finished break fast, then Tyler went to check on his father. Ally stood at the kitchen window, watching the house next door anxiously after he’d left. She wished there was some way she could take this burden away from him, some way she could protect him from whatever remaining ugliness his father had left in him. But even if she could, Tyler would never allow her to do so.

  He climbed the fence an hour later and she went onto the deck to greet him. He had his roll of blue prints under his arm and a grim expression on his face.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Fine. He’s alive and kicking. On his high horse, too. Told me he wanted an apology.”

  Ally blinked. “Wow. That’s some serious denial he’s got going on there.”

  The tightness had returned to his posture again.

  She grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his and pulled him into the house.

  “I’ve set you up in the study.”

  He stopped in the doorway when they arrived, surveying the empty desk and the bulletin board she’d cleared behind it.

  “I thought you could hang some of your stuff up there so you could reference it easily. And I know the desk isn’t as big as one of those big drawing boards you probably use, but I figure it’s better than nothing.”

  “It’s great, Ally. Perfect. But where are you going to work? I don’t want to displace you.”

  “All I need is a chair and a pad and pen most of the time. The desk is pretty much wasted on me.”

  He hooked an arm around her neck and drew her close. “Thanks.” He kissed her, his gaze warm and gentle.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  And it had been. She’d enjoyed doing something for him. Something to make his life easier.

  She eased out from under his arm.

  “You’ve got work to do. And I need to start thinking about my next column.”

  “If you say so.”

  She turned for the door, only to start a little when a large hand bussed her on the butt. She gave him a dark look over her shoulder.

  “That is so not going to become a habit.”

  “I’ve been wanting to do that from the moment I met you.”

  She stared at him, arrested. “Really?”

  “You want a sworn affidavit? Or some other kind of proof?” He reached for her again.

  She dodged out of the way, laughing, relieved to see him smiling again.

  “Do some work. Then maybe we can talk about this proof thing.”

  They worked in separate rooms until lunchtime. She made sandwiches for three and went with Tyler when he delivered one to his father. Bob was surly and taciturn and she stood in the doorway and watched as Tyler bit his tongue and didn’t rise to any of his father’s baits.

  Amazing how differently a person’s behavior could appear when viewed through a new prism. She’d always been mildly amused by Bob’s gruff abrupt ness, but now all she could hear was the frustrated anger beneath his words. Her blood ran cold as she imagined him raising a hand to two small boys.

  Bob caught her staring at him and she held his eye for a long, steady beat. She wasn’t going to pretend that she didn’t know what he was.

  He was the first to look away.

  She joined Tyler in the study when they returned to Wendy’s house, curling up in the armchair with her latest letter file. It was nearly three when Tyler sat back in his chair, rubbed his neck and announced that he was done. Then he stood and plucked her file from her hands and kissed her, hard. They wound up mostly naked on the study floor, their lovemaking fierce and urgent.

  Afterward, Ally watched as he dressed and rolled up his plans.

  “I’ll be back later tonight.”

  There was an unspoken question in his gaze. He wanted to know if he should come over. If she wanted him to stay the night again.

  A wiser woman would say no. Things were already so intense between them.

  “I’ll be awake.”

  His slow, sweet, sexy smile was her reward. “I’ll bring more ice cream.”

  She waved him off from the porch and then went inside. The bed was a rumpled mess so she changed the sheets. Then she sat on the freshly made bed and forced herself to face what she was doing—starting something up with Tyler Adamson, despite her promise to herself to never, ever let anyone down again.

  She clenched her hands on her knees, her body tense. She didn’t want to hurt him. Now, more than ever. He deserved happiness. He deserved every good thing life could throw at him.

  Then, don’t screw it up.

  A great idea, but easier said than done. At least, it was in her experience. But it was too late to play it safe—it wasn’t as though she could turn back time and change things so that she’d remained on the couch last night instead of wrapping Tyler in her arms. And she wouldn’t want to, anyway, even if she could—last night had been one of the most challenging, precious, moving experiences of her life.

  She stood and smoothed the quilt.

  There was no point mooching around, agonizing over what might happen. After all, she’d been angsting and second-guessing herself since the moment she met Tyler and it hadn’t stopped the inevitable from happening. So maybe the answer was simply to hand herself over to fate and take things one moment at a time and not get ahead of herself.

  It wasn’t exactly a plan, but it was something. And it would have to suffice.

  AT SIX O’CLOCK, SHE GIRDED her loins and went next door. Bob was watching his game shows and he barely grunted when she let herself inside and said hello.

  A far cry from his usual bright-eyed greeting. But he wasn’t about to waste his charms on her now that Tyler had so clearly taken her into his confidence.

  “Have you had your dinner yet, Bob?” she shouted over the din of the television.

  When he didn’t answer her, she stepped in front of the set and repeated her question.

  He frowned at her and she could see him trying to work out how much rudeness he could get away with. “There’s nothing to eat.”

  Ally knew for a fact that Tyler had prepared a plate of cold chicken and salad for his father’s dinner, leaving it in the fridge. Leaving Bob to his show, she went into the kitchen to check the fridge. Sure enough, the meal was gone. On a hunch, she checked the garbage. The chicken and salad had been scraped, untouched, into the pail.

  It was such a childish, spiteful act. Had Bob imagined he was making more work for Tyler? Forcing his son to do double labor in order to feed him? Punishing him in some way, as he’d punished Tyler as a child?

  She stood in the doorway of the living room, watching him, trying to decide how to handle the situation.

  A tuft of white hair sat up on his scalp, and the shirt he was wearing badly needed ironing. His hands moved restlessly on the arms of the chair and she was reminded of those long minutes she’d spent sitting beside him in the grass the morning he’d collapsed, holding his hand and willing him to live while she waited for the ambulance to come.

  She’d felt so deeply for him then, lamented his aloneness so much. But he’d brought it on himself, and now that his son was here, helping him despite their troubled history, Bob still pushed him away and punished him.

  Was he so unreachable? So set in his ways and bloody-minded that even now, when his days were numbered, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret the past and try to make amends? One word, one look
, of acknowledgment would mean so much to Tyler, she knew. It might even give him the closure he was so desperately looking for. It might even set him free.

  The thought gave her impetus to move into the room and into Bob’s line of vision.

  “Bob. Can you turn the television down for a minute?”

  He frowned, but he jabbed at the remote control and the TV was muted, reduced to a flickering, distracting display in the background.

  “I take it you didn’t want the chicken?” she asked.

  “It was off. Smelled funny.”

  She debated whether to call him on the lie, then decided to let it slide. She sat on the chair nearest to him and looked at him steadily.

  “Is this the way you want things to be, Bob? Do you really want to spend your final days at war with your own son?”

  “I don’t know what lies he’s been telling you, but he and his brother were always ungrateful little bastards.”

  “I believe him, Bob. I believe every word.”

  Bob’s lip curled. “Think I don’t know what you two are up to next door? Don’t go thinking that let ting him into your pants is going to get you any where, either. He’s never been good at sticking at anything.”

  Ally thought of Tyler’s thriving business and the way he’d put his life on hold to tend to his dying parent. She’d never met a more determined, honor able man in her life.

  She stood. “Do you know what the saddest thing is? You have an incredible son. He’s smart and he’s kind and he’s funny. And you will never, ever know him, because you’re too small-minded and angry to see past your own failings. And they are your failings, Bob. Good men do not beat their children. No exceptions, no excuses.”

  She left the room before she said something she’d regret. Something irretrievable that would make it impossible for her to help Tyler care for Bob. She made him a sandwich, then she returned to the living room where the television was once again blaring.

  She grabbed the small side table from the corner and dragged it until it was beside Bob’s chair, placing the plate on it.

  “If you throw this out, you’ll have to make your own dinner or go hungry,” she said.

  Bob didn’t acknowledge her. She returned to the kitchen and tidied up. Standing at the sink, her gaze fell on the shed. She turned off the tap and dried her hands and headed for the door.

  There was still enough daylight left for her to open the doors and find the light switch on the inside wall. She stepped over a box of old tap fittings and the shaft of a broken trimmer and stopped in front of Tyler’s table.

  As he’d reported, Bob had all but destroyed it. The once-smooth wood was hacked and scarred, the delicate inlay shattered in parts, missing in others. There was one small section where the marquetry had escaped unscathed and she ran her fingers over it, feeling the smooth fineness of the work, marveling at the beauty Tyler had created.

  She knew next to nothing about cabinetmaking, but she knew he’d spent hours on this table. Days. She imagined him working on it, young and eager to show his parents what he’d achieved, how far he’d come. Imagined the quiet pride he must have felt when he gave it to his mother.

  A sudden conviction came over her. She gripped the edges of the table and lifted it, stepping over the boxes of junk and carrying the table out of the shed. She put it down so she could turn off the light and secure the door, then she carried the table to Wendy’s house. She set it down in the living room and examined it again. The damage seemed even more profound now that it was contrasted with Wendy’s delicate antique furniture.

  It didn’t matter. The important thing was that this was Tyler’s table, and now it was safe.

  “RIGHT. WE ALL SORTED?” Tyler said, shutting his diary with a snap and standing.

  It was past seven, and he and Gabby had finally said goodbye to their client. The meeting had lasted almost an hour longer than he’d anticipated, but the upside was that the rush hour traffic out of the city would have cleared by the time he hit the road.

  He started tossing things into his briefcase, only looking up when he registered that Gabby hadn’t responded.

  She was watching him, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” He slid a spare set of mechanical pencils into his briefcase.

  “Why are you so keen on getting out of here? Anyone would think the building was on fire.”

  “Don’t even joke about it.”

  “Seriously. What’s going on? I gather from what you haven’t said about your father that things have been pretty heavy going on that front?”

  “Yeah. Well. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. He’s determined to be an ass, and I’m determined to stick it out, so we’re locked in this thing till it’s over.”

  “You know, that’s the most you’ve ever said about your father in all the years I’ve known you.”

  Tyler frowned. Had he really been so tight-lipped? “Probably because I hadn’t seen him for ten years. He wasn’t exactly at the top of my mind.”

  Although he’d always been there in some way.

  “It’s more than that. You seem…different. Lighter.”

  He gave her a look. “Lighter? What does that mean?”

  “I’ll give you an example. In the meeting just now, when that interior designer said she wanted to go with the beech on the bedside tables even though it isn’t traditional, you didn’t even bat an eyelid. Normally you would have gnashed your teeth and argued in favor of the cherry. But you simply made a note of it and moved on.”

  “She’s the customer. And I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  Gabby pointed a finger at him. “Exactly. Since when did you have better things do to with your time than defend your designs?”

  He stared at her. She stared back. Finally he shrugged.

  “I’ve met someone.”

  Gabby’s face lit up. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Ally. She lives next door to my father.”

  “And you two are…you know?” Gabby made a gesture with the fingers of both hands.

  “Very ladylike. You’ve been hanging around with the guys too long.”

  “I’m going to take that as a yes. Tell me about her.” Gabby propped her butt on the edge of his desk.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you’ve got. You’re one of my favorite people in all the world, and I want to know who this woman is who’s made you so happy.”

  Tyler had been about to tell her to mind her own business, but her words arrested him.

  “And maybe I want to pick up a few tips for next time around. Since she seems to have succeeded where I failed.”

  Tyler considered her a moment, trying to read her. She’d been the one to break off their relationship, and in the two years since there had never been a hint that she still had feelings for him. But there had been a look on her face just now…

  “It was a joke, Tyler.” She rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself. Now, are you going to tell me about her or not?”

  “She’s in her early thirties. Short. Dark hair. She writes the Dear Gertrude column in the paper.”

  “I love that column! Gertrude rocks.”

  “Ally does, too.” He thought about what she’d said to him this morning.

  “Oh, boy.”

  “What?”

  “You are toast. Utterly gone. Besotted.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t bother denying it. You are smitten beyond the point of no return,” Gabby said. “When can I meet her?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, remembering Ally’s reluctance to enter into anything with him and her insistence that she would be leaving in a few weeks time no matter what. “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “You’re a very nosey person, you know that?”

  “I’m a concerned friend with a vested interest.”

  He sighed. There was a reason he avoided th
ese kinds of conversations.

  “Okay,” Gabby said. “I’ll back off. But if you like this woman as much as I think you do, you need to make sure you’re both on the same page.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Gabby slid off his desk. “Careful, or I’ll come up with a reason to delay you leaving.”

  “You seem to be forgetting something—I’m the boss.”

  She made a rude noise. “When in doubt, appeal to authority. A classic loser’s move.”

  He grabbed his briefcase and the roll of designs and headed for the door. He tapped her on the head with the roll as he passed by. “One day that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

  He left her to lock up, but her words stayed with him as he drove to Woodend. Last night and today had been great, working with Ally, sharing lunch with her, making love on the study floor. Knowing he had her in his corner had made all the difference in dealing with his father. He hadn’t felt so pressured, so cornered. So alone.

  But there was no escaping the fact that Ally had resisted his first attempts to do something about the chemistry between them. And she’d been very clear that she had no plans to hang around once her current stint of house-sitting was up.

  He’d never been the kind of man who got carried away with his lovers. There had always been a small, essential part of himself that he’d held back. But with Ally…he’d given her everything. Revealed his darkest, most vulnerable places.

  His gut told him that last night had changed things for both of them, but his head wanted to nail her down, wanted to hear the words of confirmation come out of her mouth.

  Too bad for his head, because he was never going to initiate that conversation. Not only because that wasn’t his style, but Ally was far too skittish, far too reluctant a recruit to their relationship for him to start asking those kinds of questions.

  He would simply have to wait and hope and trust his gut.

  ALLY WAS IN BED, READING the latest edition of House and Garden magazine when she heard Tyler’s footsteps on the porch. She slid from the sheets and opened the door wearing only her tank top and a pair of panties. Tyler stilled, his gaze sliding down her body. Then he passed her a small cooler.