The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  This particular morning, Owen skidded across the tiled kitchen floor in his sock feet, nearly crashing into the highly irritable Abby who was reviewing her wardrobe choices on the phone with her best friend Chloe. Sarah attempted to shoo the kids out of the kitchen so she could pour coffee and throw together her lunch, which she’d neglected to pack the night before when she was thoughtfully concocting nutritious menus for her offspring.

  Finally everyone was out the door and piled into Sarah’s trusty Toyota which headed first in the direction of the high school for Abby. Thank the gods Owen is just next door at the middle school this year, Sarah thought, glancing back at her dark-haired, freckle-faced son as she pulled out of the driveway. I can’t believe I have a sixth grader and a junior, she sighed. She briefly thought about Rachel, whose son Thomas was also entering sixth grade, yet she had a 4 year old step-daughter and a brand new baby on the way. At the moment Sarah couldn’t decide if she was relieved or envious. As soon as she felt like her family was complete and she was filled with pride for the independence her children had achieved, a tiny but compelling voice inside her head called out with longing for soft newborn skin and the pitter patter of little feet.

  Being an academic for nearly her entire life had caused her mental calendar to shift from the Gregorian calendar the rest of the world used to an academic calendar. January first didn’t signal the start of a new year as aptly as the first day of the fall semester. And while most people reflected over the previous year and made resolutions for the coming year in late December, Sarah always felt the natural time for those annual contemplations was late August.

  During her own “new year,” she also lamented the injustice of being two years older than her newest students every fall. She’d turned a year older, and the freshmen were a year younger than before. This current crop of first year students were born after Sarah had graduated from high school. Ugh, she sighed, wrinkling her nose and remembering the days when she was still regularly mistaken for an undergrad. I guess those days are long gone now. I’m old enough now that many of these students could be my children. In just two years, Abby will be in their shoes.

  When she finally made it to her office to gather up her lecture notes for her first class, she already felt like she’d put in a full day’s work. She liked setting a certain kind of tone on the first day of class: intimidating students with her firm expectations yet engaging them with slight glimpses into some of the more illuminating highlights from the syllabus. She enjoyed finishing the inaugural class session with a series of questions she hoped they’d be able to answer at the end of the semester.

  I’m not teaching Research Methods this semester, she remembered. That means I’ll be doing less grading, which is good since I’m going to be at rehearsal nearly every night. She felt her skin warm slightly and tingle with the thought of Garrett. She’d not been able to get their post-rehearsal tryst out of her mind since that night. They’d been exchanging saucy texts ever since and she’d devoured his blog posts in short order. She found herself both mentally and physically titillated by his words. Now she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him again.

  Just as she was about to leave for class, there was a knock at the door, followed by the departmental secretary poking her face through the three inch crack between the door and the frame. “Something was delivered for you,” she announced apologetically, pushing the door open to reveal a ceramic planter cradled in her arms.

  “Oh!” Sarah’s eyes grew wide, her lips curling into a surprised grin. “Come on in! You can put it on my desk!” She motioned to a spot on the corner that was clear. Her fingers were shaking a little as she tried to imagine who might have sent it. Rachel? she thought warmly. It couldn’t be...she wouldn’t even let her mind complete that thought before snatching up the little card attached to a plastic spike in the dark soil.

  Hope your first day of classes goes smoothly! I’m preparing for mine here at a campus that is regrettably and tragically Dr. Lynde-less. Miss you terribly, darling! xoxo, Pawel

  Sarah felt a little tingle at the corner of her eyelid where a tear had collected. I forgot to email him back last week, she realized, suddenly feeling sad that she’d been so neglectful and distracted by back-to-school preparations. Pawel was a visiting professor on her campus the prior school year and they’d had a very enjoyable friendship coupled with a physical relationship that had been, if not firework producing, then certainly fulfilling and stimulating. She glanced down at the clock on her computer to see if she had time to fire off a quick thank-you email. I can spare five minutes, she ascertained and wheeled her desk chair back so she could get to work. She was quickly thrown off-course, however, because when she opened her personal email the first thing she saw was a message from James.

  He wants to Skype with me.

  ***

  Rachel unconsciously placed her hand on her expanding stomach nearly every time she spoke. It’s like she’s trying to cover her unborn child’s ears, Sarah mused, knowing the types of words likely to spew out of her best friend’s mouth. Sarah was finally getting a chance to relay her encounter with Garrett and satisfy Rachel’s hunger for juicy tales of lascivious adventures. “So right there in the dressing room, huh?” Rachel laughed, her voice filling the hallway where they stood as Sarah was dropping Owen off before play practice. “That’s awesome!”

  “SHHHHHH!” Sarah warned her with a finger emphatically placed against her lips. Abby had stayed in the car, but could have wandered in at any point to use the bathroom or find out what was taking her mother so long. Not to mention the fact that the boys might be lurking nearby with ears wide open.

  “So when do I get to meet him?” Rachel grinned sheepishly, bringing her volume down to a normal level.

  “This weekend we’re going to some fetish party in Baltimore,” Sarah replied. “You and Jack wanna come? You know that whole pregnancy thing is a fetish, right?” She winked at her friend who was still rubbing her lower abdomen.

  Rachel’s eyes lit up, “So you think there are guys who would want to fuck me solely because I’m pregnant?”

  “Well, not solely because of that,” Sarah giggled, “cause you’re hot and desirable. But some guys would get off on it even more because you’re knocked up!”

  They both laughed. “Fuck yeah!” Rachel’s voice shot right back up again. “Count us in!”

  Sarah rushed to play practice regretting that they were running behind schedule. God, I hate being late! she thought as she steered her car onto the freeway. They were tackling Act 1 from the top that night and Sarah was a little nervous. Garrett had all his music and blocking down but he was still struggling with some of his lines. He’d confessed that he’d spent an abundance of time online gaming the past few nights and not practicing his script like he should have. All signs pointed to Garrett being an epic procrastinator, and as a Type A personality, Sarah knew it was a character trait that may end up annoying her.

  Is it going to be weird being there with him? Will people be able to tell there is something between us, or will we just be open about it? Sarah wondered as she locked the car. She headed into the theater which was already buzzing with actors, directors and a costumer who was periodically pulling cast members aside to take measurements.

  She glanced over at her daughter who had already run off to join her friends. What is Abby going to think about this if she finds out? Sarah contemplated. She remembered how Abby and her girlfriends Bree and Brooke had ogled Garrett from the first day of rehearsal. She suddenly wished she’d strategized a bit with him, that they’d discussed their game plan for the public display of their relationship. Set some limits, something. She had no clue what to expect.

  The question was answered as soon as she reached the stage. Garrett broke away from the costumer and made his way over to Sarah in two giant leaps by his swift, long legs. His arm was around her and he’d planted a kiss on her lips before she could protest. She whipped around to see that Abby and her friends had wi
tnessed the entire display. Great, she thought. Guess I will have some explaining to do now. She shot Garrett a surprised look, an eyebrow raised, and he shrugged it off. “Can you stay after again tonight?” he whispered in her ear, but not so quietly that those standing close by couldn’t hear. He appeared perfectly unapologetic about creating the entire scene.

  Sarah shook her head and tilted it in the direction of Abby, turning her body so that her back was to the clique of teenage girls. “See that girl over there with the long ponytail?” Sarah said plainly, her lip curled into a snarl. “That’s my daughter. So watch yourself, okay?” She playfully punched him in the shoulder to emphasize her point.

  Garrett opened his mouth to laugh but then thought better of it and gripped Sarah’s wrist instead, drawing her close to him. He bent, this time whispering so that only she could hear his words, “Next time you’re mine, I’m going to have to discipline you for talking back to me like that.” His hot breath on her neck sent chills racing through her body. As she pulled away she saw his green eyes were glowing with intensity. It amazed her how he could go from jovial to commanding in a split second. So convincing, in fact, that she had a hard time deciding if he was being facetious or serious.

  After practice when Abby and her friends headed down the aisle and out toward the parking lot, seemingly unfazed by the earlier display, Garrett pulled Sarah aside and apologized for being inappropriate in front of her daughter and their other castmates. “Sorry, I just get carried away sometimes,” he admitted. “I was sort of in character, I think.”

  Sarah laughed, “It’s alright. It was kind of hot when you grabbed my wrist like that.” She put her arms around his waist. She loved how her head came right up to his nipples. He bent a little to rest his chin on the top of her head. He felt so warm; he’d soaked in all the stage lights and was radiating their heat into her body. “But you’re right, we need to tone it down. I don’t care if people know we’re seeing each other, but you know, let’s not do the PDA thing too much, okay? Especially in front of my daughter.”

  “Agreed,” Garrett said, kissing her hair. Then he bent to cover her lips with his own, which were just as hot as the rest of him. Sarah swooned in his embrace, wanting nothing more than to drag him down the hallway to the dressing room again, but knowing she couldn’t since Abby was waiting. Her nerves spasmed at the memory of his huge cock filling her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he impaled her, teetering on the threshold between pleasure and pain.

  “Saturday night,” she finally managed under her breath. “My friends Rachel and Jack might join us.”

  “Excellent,” Garrett said, running his fingers through her hair and gathering it into his fist, pulling her head back just ever so slightly. He trailed the fingertips of his other hand down the creamy flesh of her neck. “The more the merrier...”

  ***

  It was late and the kids were asleep. The house was consumed by that kind of stillness that makes one’s head ring with memories just to combat the silence. Sarah had already failed miserably at her attempt to fall asleep, so she pulled open her laptop and discovered a Skype message from James. She instantly felt a rush surge through her body like a rocket had been launched from the base of her spine. She had nearly forgotten that she’d emailed him back earlier in the day with her Skype user name. With trembling fingers, she typed a reply and then like magic, he popped up on her screen as a grainy image, his trademark boyish grin displayed in pixelated technicolor.

  “Turn your webcam on,” he instructed.

  She thought about her hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, her freshly scrubbed skin, her glasses sliding to the end of her nose as she hovered over the screen, transfixed on his image. That day she’d left his house in May she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. But here he was. She reluctantly complied with his request to turn on her webcam.

  “Hi Sarah,” he said, waving at her.

  “Hello, James,” she choked out, trying to sound quasi-normal. I doubt I can pull off nonchalant, she conceded. Where the hell is my Auto Pilot?

  “I’ve missed you,” he confessed.

  She felt those words more than she heard them. Stay strong, she commanded herself as she studied his image. He wore a brown t-shirt and she could see the outline of his deltoids and chest muscles through it. She remembered what it was like to lie with her cheek pressed against his chest, how firm those muscles were, how his arm felt around her. She imagined her face buried in his strength, his protection. Everything was safe there, she realized, except my heart. I left it vulnerable. Exposed.

  She wanted to cry out to him, to tell him how much she ached for him, for his touch, his kiss. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. “I miss you too,” she admitted, keeping the verb in the present tense. It was a longing that was going to go on and on, way beyond the miles between them and the days that had evaporated since his departure.

  It wasn’t so much that the conversation was strained, it was more that they just needed to look at each other. Need or want? she debated, unable to decide. Sarah rambled on about the first day of class and James spoke briefly about what was happening on base, the things he could talk about. He had a couple of stories about goofing off with the guys...how they passed the time...how much he appreciated having the e-book reader she’d bought him as a going away present.

  Finally he couldn’t hold back his concern any longer: “Are you sure it’s okay for us to talk like this?”

  “Oh, James,” Sarah stalled, collecting her composure for the four millionth time in their twenty minute conversation. He hadn’t mentioned Maggie even once. Not once. What does that mean? she wondered. “It does sting some. But like I said on the phone, it’s better than the alternative.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me. I don’t want to lose your friendship, Sarah.”

  “I know,” she replied, strengthening her resolve. I can do this. “I don’t want to lose yours either.” She struggled to make her lips form the word “yours” instead of “you,” knowing that the latter had already come to fruition.

  “So we can talk again soon?” he asked, the words encased in hope.

  “Of course, any time.”

  And then after exchanging simple goodbyes, his webcam went dark. And Sarah was left to toss and turn, clamoring for sleep even more desperately than before.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  The Cave

  Sarah was relieved that Jack had agreed to drive that night since she wasn’t entirely sure where they were headed. This party is all Garrett’s idea, she thought. Her instincts were to trust his discernment... but I don’t really know him that well yet either, she considered. Rachel sat up front with her husband and Garrett sat in the back next to Sarah. Other than their initial conversation at the library, this was the first time Sarah had seen Garrett outside of the theater. She was pleased that he was gregarious and conversational with her friends, but certainly not surprised. He seems to be the kind of guy who can handle himself in any situation, which is probably why I’m trusting his judgment about this party.

  She studied his profile as he leaned toward the front seat, explaining with great animation how he got the nickname “Navigator” to Rachel and Jack. His long nose featured a slight bump at the bridge and his well-defined cheekbones angled down to his jawline. He had that sort of prematurely weathered redhead skin where it was difficult to tell whether it was freckled or tan. He had already earned a few creases of experience under his eyes.

  In some ways, Garrett looked much older than his twenty-seven years and much worldlier. He was the epitome of an “old soul.” He certainly doesn’t seem ten years younger than I do, Sarah observed after close analysis in the natural light, realizing she’d always seen him awash in stage lights. Or in dark dressing rooms and dim library cafes, she thought with a wicked smile. I don’t think anyone will wonder what he’s doing with an older woman, which is something I always worried about with
James.

  With James, she sighed, her fingers gripping the plush navy upholstery covering the back seat. Her mind was abruptly flooded with the image cast from his webcam a few nights before, his body parts flashing in spurts in her memory: the thick hands, the broad shoulders, his masculine jawline. She envisioned those hands on her breasts, in her hair, her lips grazing against the stubble on his chin. Those images are never going to go away, will they? she wondered desperately. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to bury them or replace them, it’s always going to feel like it was just last night that I laid in his arms. I’ll never be able to turn the James Channel completely off.

  She reviewed their conversation from the previous night again, asking herself why she hadn’t mentioned Maggie. You know, just, “Hey, how’s Maggie adjusting to life in Maryland?” She rehearsed the neutral tone in her mind. Next time, next time I will, she vowed. Something inside compelled her to know.

  “Sarah?” she heard Rachel’s voice break through the muddled thoughts where her mind was tenaciously swimming laps in full-on psychoanalysis mode.

  “Oh!” Sarah exclaimed, snapping back to reality. “What was the question?”

  “Have you met the people hosting the party tonight?” Rachel repeated slowly and emphatically, with carefully enunciated consonants.

  “No, no,” she replied, “these are friends of Garrett’s. I’m sure he can vouch for them.”