The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

“One...I think I’m ready to go again,” he said softly just as she began to feel him swelling inside her again, “And two...I love you...”

  “I love you too, Garrett,” and with that she began to move against him again, her pelvis slowly rising and falling, taking him deep inside her and this time when she came, it was with his arms clasped around her tightly.

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  Valentine’s Baby

  February was as cold and gray as one would expect. Sarah was busy helping Rachel prepare for the baby as well as enjoying her time with Garrett, but in many ways she felt like she was just biding time. Till what? she wondered, but she knew the answer was James coming home. I don’t know what I expect to get out of him being back other than relief that he’s safe and sound on American soil. I am not going to see him. She knew he and Abby were still having weekly or even more frequent conversations and something about that pleased her. If I can’t have him, at least I still have some sort of tie to him. Besides, she’s getting more out of her interaction with him than she is her real father, who has only sent her a total of two emails now.

  She thought about him incessantly; even when she tried to steer away from The James Channel, it was always on. Fortunately, Garrett was understanding and didn’t press when Sarah would inadvertently space out, lost in a memory. Despite that, she tried to limit her actual contact with James, thinking that memories and fantasies of him were probably better than the real thing. Because of that and the fact that she waited for him to initiate contact, they often went weeks without communicating, which is why she probably shouldn’t have been surprised to see him Skyping her when a month had passed since their last conversation.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, waving at her across the webcam.

  “It’s going,” Sarah replied with a sigh. “The semester is well underway and I’m already buried in grading.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he laughed. “I wanted to tell you something,” he said before she could offer anything else, his tone turning serious.

  Her heart began to pump like it was full of tiny racehorses. Learning not to jump to conclusions when it came to James was one of her biggest hurdles. “What’s up?” she asked, struggling to sound aloof, nonchalant.

  “My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer right before Christmas,” he replied. She watched the color drain out of his face at the mere mention of the C-word.

  Her heart sank. Not the news I wanted to hear for certain, she thought. “Oh, James, I am so very sorry to hear that. How is she? What’s the prognosis?”

  “Thanks, it was quite a bit of shock to me as well,” he said, clearing his throat as if it would distract him from invoking too much emotion. “She just had a double mastectomy last week with chemo and radiation to follow. But the prognosis is good as far as we know.” He said it scientifically, as if he were her doctor instead of her son. That might be the only way he can deal with it, she considered, especially being so far away from his family.

  It was one of those times that she didn’t know whether to stand back or push. She’d been faced with that dilemma so many times during their time together and pushing him to emote was usually rewarded. It seemed to be cathartic for him. Plus I don’t know how easily he can talk to Maggie about this sort of thing, she thought. “I bet it’s really tough for you to not be there with her, right?” she asked, slowly wading into those murky waters.

  He nodded solemnly, his blue eyes frozen on the screen as if shifting them might cause the tears he was holding back to erupt. Sarah’s eyes had already lost that battle; she was crying for him, for having to deal with this news when he was so far away. She remembered one time thinking about James’s mother and what it must have been like to send her son off to war at such a tender age, knowing how difficult she’d find it to let Owen go. She had a hard enough time just letting Owen go visit his father in Colorado. She had the utmost respect for the woman who brought James into the world. After all, she had raised a very fine man, one who loved both his family and his country and would undoubtedly die to defend either.

  “Oh James,” Sarah whispered, her voice devoid of the tone that was stolen by the tears. “I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”

  “I know you would if you could,” he said and she saw his eyes well up, glistening with salty, sorrowful droplets. “I wish I could hold you right now...” His voice trailed off as soon as the words left his lips, as if he knew they were forbidden.

  Sarah’s spine twitched. Did he just say what I think he said? she wondered. Do I react? Acknowledge? Now her heart was racing again. She remembered the garbled syllables he’d ejected over Skype during the attack on his base; she could have sworn he told her he loved her. He’s just brokenhearted, she finally decided...he’s not responsible for what comes out of his mouth at this point.

  “I know I don’t pray in that way you Catholics do,” she said at last. “But I do believe in spiritual powers, particularly those with healing qualities. And I’m going to pray for your mother to make a full recovery and to be cancer free...so that she can go on to live a long, full life enjoying her children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren.”

  “Sarah, you don’t know how much that means to me,” he choked out, a peace suddenly washing over him. The color began to return to his cheeks and his moist eyes brightened. “I’ll definitely keep you posted on her progress.” He shifted a bit in his desk chair as if he wanted to signal the start of a new topic. “They were going to try to keep me here another three months,” he said. “But under the circumstances I convinced them that I should go home, at least for a leave. But I think they’ve found someone else to take on that project so I’m free and clear to return.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. Wow, that’s next month, right?” Sarah asked, sharing his smile.

  He nodded. “So what else is new in your world? How’s Rachel doing? About to pop?”

  “As a matter of fact, she is,” Sarah revealed. “She’s been on bed rest for some complications but they’re inducing labor on Valentine’s Day. As luck would have it, I’m teaching Human Sexuality this semester and Rachel and Jack and agreed to broadcast the labor and delivery live with some conferencing software and we’re all going to live tweet during the birth.”

  James’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit! That sounds crazy!” He laughed. “I can totally see Rachel enjoying that though.”

  “Yes, I just hope everything goes smoothly and I don’t regret it later! I had to get special approval up the chain all the way to the Dean of Student Affairs to try this, so there’s quite a bit riding on it. I’m hoping to write a paper on it afterward.” As usual, her face glowed when she talked about her work.

  “And everything else is going okay? Your mom, Owen, Abby? I mean, I talk to Abby quite a bit but of course she always acts like she’s got everything under control.” He smiled at the thought of Abby, his fondness for the girl shining through.

  “Of course,” Sarah laughed knowing exactly how her daughter was. Not too unlike her mother in many ways, she admitted to herself. “Garrett and I are doing well too,” she added.

  “Oh, yes, Garrett,” James said, as if he’d forgotten. Then he added, as if obligated, “Maggie and I are too.”

  Sarah nodded, James’ comment from earlier about holding her still stinging at her temples. “Great, then I guess we’re all just peachy keen,” she said, with only a touch of cynicism. Then she remembered the original topic: “And I know your mother will be well too,” she said, adjusting her tone. “I feel it.”

  James knew that when Sarah Lynde got a feeling you could place a bet on it.

  ***

  It’s the big day, Sarah thought with both excitement and anticipation as her alarm clock erupted with its clanging bell before dawn had even thought about emerging from her slumber. It was 5:00 AM and Rachel was scheduled to check in at the hospital at that precise moment. Sarah wanted to give her and Jack a chance to ge
t settled in before she showed up with the webcam and the tweets started flying.

  Her students were to compose one tweet each time they checked in on Rachel’s progress. Her head was already spinning at the prospect of checking off all those tweets. Of course, the number of observations each student made would determine their individual grades. Students who made 10 or more tweets would receive an A, provided the tweets met the criteria outlined in the rubric. There were other grade thresholds for less tenacious - or perhaps more squeamish - students. I sure hope this works out, Sarah thought, considering the amount of time and energy she’d devoted to it. But I suppose even if it completely implodes, at least there will be a beautiful baby coming out of the ordeal!

  Sarah quickly cycled through her morning routine: coffee, shower, teeth, hair, makeup, clothes and checking to make sure her mother remembered she needed to take the kids to school. Kathy was also in charge of delivering Jack and Rachel’s two children to their respective schools. By 6:00, Sarah was en route to the hospital on a frosty Tuesday morning, February 14th. She was not the least bit surprised that Rachel had chosen Valentine’s Day to have her baby girl. “It’s meant to be,” Rachel had claimed as if the birth was fulfilling an ancient prophecy.

  She headed up to the childbirth wing, laptop in tow, stopping by the nurse’s station to find out what room Rachel was in. She found her friend comfortably resting propped up on the bed and Jack in the recliner nearby. They were discussing whether or not it was advisable to get a baby’s ears pierced. Sarah tried to remember if Jack’s daughter Gia had hers done or not. Rachel had a tube coming out of her hand attaching her to the IV. “Pitocin?” Sarah asked.

  “Just saline for now,” Rachel replied. “The nurse will be in soon to start the Pitocin.”

  “Great!” She grasped her best friend’s hand. “It won’t be much longer now!” She pulled back the sheet covering Rachel’s huge round stomach and saw that she had two elastic belts with plastic transmitters stuck to her, one to monitor her contractions and one to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. She could see the results of those transmissions on the machine behind the bed. “Looks like you’re already having some contractions,” Sarah observed, studying the peaks and valleys.

  “Yup, have been nonstop for like three weeks,” Rachel said. “That’s why I’m already dilated to three. This baby girl wants outta there!”

  The hospital room was small but cozy, done up in shades of sage green and mauve. A little dated, but soothing, she noted. There was a huge window with just the sheers pulled to gently filter the streaming sunlight on one side of the bed and a wall of ivory-colored cabinets with a mauve laminate counter top and stainless steel sink on the other side.

  At the front of the room a sturdy oak armoire stood with a television inside, and there was a wide oak door leading to a spacious sage green-tiled bathroom. Sarah wheeled the tray table meant for serving meals to the patient over to the side of the bed and placed the laptop on its surface. She logged into the video conferencing website and made some adjustments. Soon a view of Rachel’s bed appeared on the screen. Sarah grabbed her phone and tweeted “We’re up and running! Pitocin to start soon.”

  She’d reviewed the finer points of labor induction with her students so they knew what to expect. They talked a lot about the psychological aspects of labor and delivery as well as pain management. She was surprised how little college students knew about how babies were brought into the world, with the exception of two or three women in her class who had already had children. They sat at their desks exchanging knowing glances as each other as if they were part of a secret club.

  7:05: The nurse finally came in to start the Pitocin. Sarah tweeted “Remember, Pitocin is synthetic oxytocin, which is the hormone responsible for inducing contractions.” Some of her students were starting to participate. They were using the hashtag #valentinesbaby. One female student who had a two- year-old-son tweeted, “Pitocin is evil! Hurts like hell!”

  8:23: Rachel was starting to grow uncomfortable. The contractions were coming faster and harder now. “This sort of sucks but it’s all good. Can’t wait to meet my baby girl!” she tweeted. The webcam was starting to have more viewers and the hashtag was becoming more populated with observations. Most of the students were just saying they couldn’t wait to see the baby at this point. Some were making bets about what time she would arrive.

  9:47: The nurse came in to check Rachel. They were a little concerned about her blood pressure which was dropping, not uncommon with Pitocin. Rachel joked that the pre-eclampsia had made her blood pressure too high for eight weeks and now all the sudden they were worried about it being too low. “I just can’t win,” she tweeted jokingly. Sarah was relieved her friend was able to maintain her sense of humor. Rachel decided to hold off on a cervical exam for another hour, and she insisted she was fine without pain medication for the time being. The nurse cranked up the Pitocin to a higher dosage.

  10:15: The nurse rushed back into Rachel’s room, not liking what she was seeing on the contraction and heart rate monitors. The contraction line looked like the Rocky Mountains: steadily spiking and falling every five minutes. The baby’s heartbeat line should have been relatively even, around 150-160 beats per minute, but during the height of the contractions, it dipped. The nurse called it a “decel.” Sarah tweeted that the baby’s heart rate was dropping off during contractions, which was a cause for concern.

  “We’re going to break your water, check you, and put a monitor directly on the baby’s head,” the nurse said, typing information into an electronic tablet and then pulling out a pair of latex gloves from a cardboard box in one of the many cabinets.

  The nurse was very calm and businesslike, as if she saw this particular situation a hundred times a day. She reached into a different cabinet and retrieved a long, thin plastic package and ripped off the top. Sarah’s labors had commenced with her water breaking so she had never seen the implement used to do it manually except briefly during her childbirth class. It was a long plastic hook not unlike a knitting or crochet needle. She asked the nurse to hold it up for the webcam audience so they could get an idea of its size and shape.

  The nurse instructed Rachel to pull her legs up and apart and the obstetrician, Dr. Wilson, appeared in the doorway at the exact moment the exam was to begin. She smiled at Sarah, recognizing her from the appointment at which Rachel had received the results of her amniocentesis. She had enthusiastically agreed to the broadcast, and she waved at Sarah’s students before rolling her stool close to the end of Rachel’s bed.

  Naturally the webcam was at an angle which prevented the class from seeing anything more explicit than Rachel’s thighs. Off-camera, Rachel had muttered something about how she was used to showing a lot more on cam shows than she was today. Now, though, she had ceased joking.

  She looks a little nervous, Sarah noted. She sat by the head of the bed running her fingers through her friend’s blonde hair while the doctor gave the nurse notes in a low voice. Sarah gathered some of what they were saying but it seemed like they were purposely trying to keep Rachel and Jack from hearing. She watched the nurse furiously typing the information into the tablet.

  Finally the doctor wheeled her stool back and grabbed the plastic hook out of the nurse’s gloved hands. “Rachel, you’re doing great, you’re dilated to 4-5cm, 80% effaced and the baby’s head is descending. She’s at -1 station, so she still has a little bit to move down. We’re going to put the internal monitor on now so we should be able to see what’s going on with her heart rate a little more easily. We’re also going to break your water and see if that doesn’t help speed things along a little.”

  Rachel nodded, still looking pale and terrified. It’s been a long time since she’s done this, Sarah thought. It probably feels like the first time all over again. Dr. Wilson scooted back into position at the foot of the bed and slowly, gently inserted the plastic hook into her patient’s vagina. Suddenly Rachel gasped, “Holy fuck!” as the amniotic fluid c
ame gushing out of her. Then she immediately clasped her hand over her mouth, her eyes huge and round. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I was not expecting it to feel like that!”

  The nurse grunted under her breath but the doctor smiled as she finished attaching the wire for the heart rate monitor to the baby’s head. “It’s okay. The fluid is clear so that’s good news. The baby isn’t in distress.” She turned to the nurse. “Turn it up again in 15.” Sarah imagined she was referring to the Pitocin. “Still okay without pain meds?” Dr. Wilson asked.

  Rachel nodded weakly, “Yeah, I’m good for now.”

  “Excellent,” Dr. Wilson replied. “I’ll be back to check on you soon. We’re going to have a baby in a few hours!”

  Sarah wondered if obstetricians had to feign excitement over a birth or if they really did celebrate bringing each and every new life into the world. I think I’d get excited each time if it were me, she thought, relating it to the thrill she got when a student wrote a particularly brilliant paper or made an insightful comment in class. She handed Rachel her phone so she could tweet about how it felt to have her water broken in 140 characters or less. Rachel settled on, “Feels like I peed the bed. LOL.”

  11:23: The nurse rushed back in, followed closely by Dr. Wilson. Rachel had been lying on her right side groaning, the contractions really starting to strengthen. Jack was at the edge of the bed, holding his wife’s hand, trying to whisper comforting thoughts in her ear. Sarah could feel the tension as soon as the medical personnel entered. Jack and Sarah backed away from the bed to give them space and they began to wrangle the cords of the monitor and to move Rachel onto her other side, away from the monitor.

  The nurse accidentally shoved the wheeled tray table with the webcam out of the way. “Hey, we’re broadcasting this!” Sarah complained.

  Dr. Wilson shouted over her shoulder, unable to disguise her exasperation: “Turn it off for now.” She instructed the nurse to put a clear plastic oxygen mask over Rachel’s face.