The Last Goodbye

by Sarah Mayberry

  She heard the sound of the front door opening and put down her pad and pen, very deliberately pushing the whole mess to the back of her mind. Wendy wasn’t due for two more weeks, after all. There was no reason for her to start manning the lifeboats prematurely.

  “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” she called down the hall.

  Tyler had disappeared next door after lunch and told her not to expect him until dinnertime, a pretty common occurrence the past few days as work intensified on the table.

  She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t. Curious, she went in search of him. She found him in the bedroom, his back to the door as he bent over something. He was wearing his cutoff jeans again, and she spared an appreciative glance for the way the worn denim showcased his backside and thighs.

  “Thought I wasn’t going to see you until dinner?”

  “Yeah. I finished early.” He straightened, turning to face her. Then he took a step to one side and she saw what his body had been shielding.

  He’d finished the table. She took a step forward.

  “When…?”

  “A few days ago. But it takes a few passes to get the polish right.”

  She reached out a hand but stopped short of touching it. The finish was too perfect, too fine. “Tyler. It’s stunning.”

  And it was. He’d replaced the ruined marquetry with a new design, a many-pointed star made up of a myriad of red-hued woods. The top tapered to a simple bevel on the rim, and he’d honed the legs and reeded them, making the table appear more delicate and refined.

  “It’s okay, you can touch it. It’s meant to be used,” he said, an amused glint in his eyes.

  She ran her fingers over the central star, unsurprised to find it silky smooth beneath her hands.

  “I didn’t know there were so many different shades of red.”

  He moved closer. “This is Jarrah, and that’s redgum. And this is red cedar. There’s a lot of variation within each species, but I had some good off-cuts at the workshop to play with.”

  “Tyler, it’s beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it, because it’s yours.”

  She stilled, her gaze flying to his face. He was watching her carefully, a small, slightly nervous smile on his lips.

  “You’re giving this to me?” she asked, her voice rising to an incredulous squeak.

  “I’d like you to have it. If you’d like it.”

  She lay her hand on the table. She couldn’t believe he was serious. “Are you nuts? I’d love to have something so beautiful. It’s…God, it’s breathtaking. I don’t know what to say.”

  She could see he was pleased that she liked his gift. She looked at him, her chest aching with emotion.

  “Tyler.” But she couldn’t find the words to express what she was feeling and she shook her head, angry with herself for being so inarticulate.

  The doorbell sounded. Ally frowned.

  “I’ll get it,” Tyler said.

  She caught his arm as he brushed past her. “Tyler.

  It’s beautiful. I love it. I’ll cherish it forever,” she said.

  For God’s sake, say it. Tell him you love him. Tell him you’re crazy about him.

  But the words got caught in her throat and wouldn’t come out. Tyler gazed into her eyes for a moment, then he leaned close and kissed her briefly on the mouth.

  “I’m glad.”

  He left the room. She stared after him for a beat, angry with herself for choking.

  You’re a chicken, Bishop. A big old yellow-belly.

  It was absolutely true.

  She surveyed the table again. She hadn’t owned a piece of furniture for nearly four years, and she’d never, ever owned something this precious. All her stuff had always been cheap and disposable, designed to be temporary. This piece was an heirloom. A small, perfect masterpiece that should be enjoyed for generations.

  She could hear Tyler talking to whoever was at the front door. She registered that the other voice was vaguely familiar. She listened for a moment and realized it sounded like Belinda, Bob’s nurse.

  A trickle of unease ran down her spine. She stepped into the hall. Tyler was standing on the front porch, his face creased with concern as Belinda talked. He seemed to sense her presence and he glanced at her. She knew immediately that something was wrong and she hastened to join him.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing drastic,” Belinda said. “I was just explaining to Tyler that I’ve noticed Bob’s been using more of his painkillers lately. So I had a little chat with him, and he’s been experiencing back pain.”

  They’d been waiting for this, so it wasn’t exactly a shock. But it was still grim news.

  “I think we should get him into hospital for some tests, so we know what we’re dealing with and how best to make him comfortable,” Belinda said.

  “When?” Tyler asked.

  “I can make a call now, see what’s available. To morrow, if possible.”

  Tyler nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  They waited while Belinda moved off to make her call, watching the other woman pace the sidewalk as she talked and listened. Ally squeezed Tyler’s hand.

  “You okay?”

  He shrugged. “Had to happen, right?”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “No.”

  Belinda ended her call and rejoined them on the porch.

  “9:30 a.m. tomorrow.”

  “Great. Thanks for that, we appreciate it,” Tyler said.

  They ate dinner with Bob that night, enduring the blare of the television to keep him company. Not that he’d requested it—he would prefer to cut his tongue out, Ally suspected—but it felt like the right thing to do.

  She watched Bob eat his meal, thinking about all the things he’d denied himself with his refusal to engage with his son.

  But Bob’s journey wasn’t over yet.

  She sent a little prayer out into the universe that Bob would find a moment of truth and clarity to offer his son before it was too late. For Tyler’s sake, if not his own.

  THE NEXT DAY, SHE WAITED with Tyler while Bob was scanned and his blood was taken, then she waited some more when Tyler and Bob met with the oncologist to hear the results of the tests.

  Tyler’s expression was flat, utterly unreadable as they exited the consultant’s rooms. Bob kept his gaze on the floor, but she could see he was fighting to control himself.

  Later, after they’d driven home and settled Bob in his armchair with his puzzle books, she and Tyler sat on the deck next door and he told her that the doctor had confirmed that Bob’s cancer had spread.

  “Soon his liver function is going to drop. And then it’s going to be pretty fast, the doctor said.”

  Ally blinked away tears. “Has Bob said anything?”

  Tyler shook his head. “You know what he’s like.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Tyler sighed. “I need to call Jon, let him know what’s going on.”

  “Sure.”

  He went into the house. Her gaze moved over the fence. What must Bob be feeling right now? Was he scared? Relieved? Resigned? Angry?

  She drew her knees into her chest and rested her cheek on her knees.

  Over the past weeks she had found an uneasy middle ground within herself where Bob was concerned. She would never feel the same warm affection for him that she once had—she couldn’t, not when she knew what he’d done to Tyler—but the initial burning outrage she’d felt had been tempered by the sheer mundanity of caring for him. It went against her nature to deny someone in need. It was as simple as that. Despite his many, many failings and cruelties, she had it in her to feel pity for Bob.

  Tyler exited the house and sat beside her. She looked at him in silent question and he nodded.

  “He’s coming. Catching the first flight out tomorrow. I’ll drive into the city and pick him up.”

  “When was the last time you saw
him?”

  “I don’t know. Eight years, maybe nine.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Tyler thought for a minute. “You know, I really have no idea.”

  “Maybe you two can get something out of this after all.”

  “Maybe.”

  She poked him with her finger. “Don’t go all silent and manly on me. This is important. You two got through your childhood by battening down the hatches and enduring. I get that, but things are different now. Take it from someone who has no one, a brother is a precious thing.”

  Tyler looked at her, then he reached for her hand. “You don’t have no one, Ally. You have me.”

  Such simple words, but they made her chest expand with warmth and love.

  This man. This incredible, loving man.

  She reached out to cup his face, but once again the words in her heart failed to make it out of her mouth. To cover the moment, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, holding him close, trying to tell him with her body what she wasn’t able to verbalize yet.

  Soon, she told him silently, deepening the kiss. Soon.

  Following his lead as he pulled her down onto the deck, she tried to ignore the little flutter of apprehension in the pit of her stomach.

  TYLER GOT UP EARLY TWO days later to make the drive into the city to pick up his brother. Ally stirred briefly when he got out of bed, then again when he dropped a kiss on her cheek on the way out the door.

  “Drive carefully,” she murmured before burrowing into the pillow.

  He stared at her for a moment, thinking about the conversation that was looming between them. Wendy was coming home soon. Which meant it would be time for Ally to move on—if she wanted to. If she was prepared to walk away from what they’d built between them.

  On a good day, he knew, absolutely that she would stay. Knew that she loved him, and that the intense connection he felt with her was a shared and mutual thing.

  But there was always that half-packed suitcase in the corner to remind him that Ally had a long, long history of not putting down roots.

  There’s a first time for everything.

  He bloody hoped so, anyway, because he loved her with everything he had, and he didn’t want to even think about a future that didn’t include her. A concession indeed from a man who’d once prided himself on needing no one and nothing.

  He left the house quietly, pausing for a moment in the quiet of predawn. The forecast was for another hot day. The last time Tyler had checked, it had been below freezing in Toronto—Jon was in for a rude awakening.

  He let himself into his father’s house to check that all was well before he took off. He expected his father to be asleep, but when he ducked his head in the door of his father’s bedroom he saw the bed was empty. The living room was empty, too, and the kitchen. He checked the toilet and bathroom, then headed out to the yard, only to pull up short when he spotted his father sitting at the bottom of the steps.

  “Dad. You gave me a scare.”

  His father shifted his head slightly but didn’t fully turn around. “You’re up early.”

  “I’m going to pick up Jon. Remember?”

  His father nodded. Tyler descended a few steps.

  “Are you okay? You’re not in pain?”

  “Only so many tablets a man can take.”

  “We can talk to Belinda if you need more.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Tyler stared at the back of his father’s head. Ally had given his hair a trim last week and his hairline was military straight. The lines on his neck were deeply scored, the skin loose with age.

  “Dad. If there’s anything you want to talk about, anything you want to say, now’s the time,” Tyler said quietly.

  He waited, his body tense.

  His father didn’t say anything.

  Well. It had been a long shot, anyway.

  “I’ll see you when I’m back with Jon.”

  He was about to slip back into the house when his father spoke.

  “Don’t put your foot down, those coppers are everywhere with their radar guns. Cost you a bomb if you get caught.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  His father grunted and Tyler walked through the house to the front door.

  They were on the home stretch now, whether they liked it or not. All they could do now was hang on and endure.

  ALLY WOKE AGAIN AT EIGHT and showered and made herself breakfast before she went next door to see if Bob needed anything. She could hear the television as she walked up the path. Bob had started early today. Usually he liked to do his crosswords in the morning and save the television for when his game shows started in the afternoon.

  She rang the doorbell to let him know she was there, then let herself in the front door.

  “It’s only me, Bob.”

  There was no response, but that was hardly surprising, given the racket of the television.

  She walked into the living room. Sure enough, Bob was in his usual chair, his crossword puzzle book on his knee.

  “Good morning. Have you had breakfast yet or would you like me to make you some?”

  When Bob didn’t respond, she stepped into his line of vision, which was when she saw that his glasses had slipped slightly down his face and that his eyes were closed.

  “Bob.”

  She rushed forward, grabbing his hand to find his pulse. To her relief she felt the faint, weak flutter of Bob’s heartbeat against her fingertips.

  He was alive. But something was wrong. She checked his airways were clear, then went into the kitchen to call an ambulance. She gave the address and what information she had, then hung up and bit her lip. She thought about calling Tyler, then decided to wait until the ambulance arrived so she could give him more information. He would be at the airport by now, waiting for his brother’s plane to land. There was nothing he could do from so far away.

  Déjà vu swept over her as she knelt beside Bob’s chair, holding his hand while she waited for the ambulance. It had barely been a month since she’d last done this. How the world had changed.

  The ambulance arrived within five minutes and she stood to one side while the attendants checked Bob over. He remained unconscious and she felt a growing dread as they took his vital signs.

  “He has cancer,” she explained. “It’s in his liver, kidneys… And he’s on medication.”

  “Do you know what kind?” the female attendant asked.

  Ally went to collect the bottles.

  “What do you think is wrong?” she asked when she returned.

  “Looks as though he’s had a heart attack. Pretty big one, judging by his heart trace.” The woman gave Ally a sympathetic look. “Might be a blessing, given what you told us.”

  “I need to make a call.”

  She moved into the kitchen, her hands icy as she dialed Tyler’s number. She pressed her fingers against her closed eyelids, willing herself not to cry. They’d all known this was coming, that Bob was dying. As the woman had said, a heart attack was a blessing, given his circumstances.

  The call connected.

  “Tyler, it’s Ally. You’re not driving, are you?”

  “I’m at international arrivals. Jon’s flight has been delayed by half an hour. What’s wrong?”

  “Your father has had a heart attack. He’s still alive, but the ambulance crew seem to think it’s pretty serious.”

  There was a profound silence at the other end of the phone. She imagined Tyler in the middle of the busy airport, trying to think.

  “Where are they taking him?” he finally asked.

  “Kyneton again. I’ll go with him.”

  “Thanks, Ally.”

  “I’ll see you soon, okay? And I’ll keep you updated.”

  Tyler said something, but the sound was muffled.

  “Sorry, I missed that.”

  “I just saw Jon.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you go. Be safe.”

  “I will.”

  He ende
d the call.

  She returned to the living room as the attendants were strapping Bob into the stretcher.

  “I need to grab my phone and purse from next door, then I’ll come with you,” she said.

  A tense ambulance ride later, Bob was rushed into the emergency department. Ally was asked to wait in the waiting area and she wrapped her arms around herself and paced anxiously.

  She didn’t know what she was hoping for. It seemed cruel to will Bob to live simply so Tyler could say his final goodbye. As for Jon… She could only imagine how he was feeling right now.

  “It’s Ally, isn’t it?”

  She glanced up to see Bob’s oncologist standing in the doorway of the waiting area.

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m Bob’s neighbor.”

  “Tyler’s not around?”

  “He’s picking up his brother from the airport.”

  “That’s unfortunate. I don’t suppose you know if he and his father ever discussed a D.N.R.?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is,” Ally said.

  “Sorry—doctor speak. It’s shorthand for Do Not Resuscitate. If something happens, we need to know whether Bob would want us to keep him alive.”

  God.

  “I don’t know. Tyler never mentioned it. Bob wasn’t big on talking.”

  “I noticed. Last of the stoics.”

  “I’ll call Tyler.”

  She pulled her phone out. The call had barely connected when it was picked up.

  “Tyler’s phone,” a deep voice said.

  For a moment Ally was thrown, then she realized it must be Jon.

  “It’s Ally. Is Tyler there?”

  “He’s driving.”

  “Jon, I’m sorry to do this, but can you ask him if he and Bob ever discussed a Do Not Resuscitate order? The doctor needs to know.”

  “Right.”

  She heard muffled conversation, then Jon came back on the line.

  “Tyler says no.”

  Ally caught the oncologist’s eye and shook her head.

  “Can I talk to him?” the doctor asked.

  “It’s Jon, Tyler’s brother,” she explained.

  Quickly she introduced the doctor before passing him the phone. A short, terse conversation later, the doctor handed back the phone, gave her a nod of thanks and left.