The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  Okay, so here's my question. I was at a conference in Denver a couple of months ago and ran into a colleague of mine from grad school. She was talking about a research fellowship she got at a university in Prague and was so excited to be going to Europe for a year. I wondered if there were any opportunities for something like that, or a visiting professorship like you did at Maryland, at your university? If so, what hoops would I have to jump through? With whom would I speak? If you could look into it for me I would appreciate it. I thought it would be a great addition to my CV as I head into the tenure process in a few years. Even a semester would be awesome. Plus I would get to see you!

  Alright, sorry to be so verbose but I wanted to thank you for the birthday gift and update you on everything. I hope things are going well for you, your family and with your lover, of course! I forgot to mention that Garrett also has a lead in Chess so when rehearsals start, we'll be spending even more time together than usual!

  Talk to you soon!

  All my love,

  Sarah

  ***

  The butterflies Sarah had experienced prior to auditions were only intensified as she and Garrett headed into the theater for the inaugural rehearsal of Chess. Garrett squeezed her hand for reassurance as they made their way down the main aisle between the crimson-cushioned seats. Xavier, the director, was sitting on the edge of the stage with his iPad, scrolling through what appeared to be notes. "Hello my lovelies!" he called as they approached. Sarah noticed there were five or six other people sitting in the first row of seats all perusing scripts.

  Boyd, the musical director, was stationed at the piano with the accompanist making notes in the score. Garrett headed in that direction to talk to Boyd while Sarah took a seat next to a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair. She watched her lover animatedly discussing the preferred key for one of the numbers. He was wearing olive green shorts that had a slight tear near one of the back pockets and a black concert shirt with white screen printing. She was studying the tribal band tattoo encircling his calf when the man next to Sarah announced, "I'm Anatoly," and reached out to shake her hand.

  Sarah froze for a moment. Anatoly, that's an unusual name! Then her sense kicked in and she realized that it was the name of his character. "Oh! I'm Florence," she responded in kind, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers in his firm grip. "I'm also known as Sarah," she winked.

  He smiled wide enough for her to see that his bottom teeth were a bit crooked. His lips were slightly obscured by a goatee that matched his salt-and-pepper hair. He had pale blue eyes and thick brows. He reminded Sarah of a wolf: intense, calculating, but loyal. "I think you're going to be easy to fall in love with," he boldly asserted.

  Sarah felt the edge of her lip turn up into a smirk. "Why do you say that?" she asked curiously, maybe even a bit flirtatiously. By this time she noticed that Garrett had returned and was sitting on the edge of the stage near Xavier and only five feet away from Sarah. He was listening to the unfolding conversation with interest.

  "Because you're alarmingly beautiful," Anatoly said in a voice as rich as chocolate. He was still grasping her hand.

  Sarah laughed nervously. Although she was confident in her looks, she was certainly not used to strangers complimenting her. "So, Anatoly, do you have a real name?" she inquired, pulling her hand back and crossing her legs toward him. Garrett sat with his crazy red hair glowing under the flood of stage lights, looking wildly entertained by the scene playing out across from him.

  Anatoly cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon," he apologized, "I was momentarily so captivated by you I forgot my manners. I'm Liam. So pleased to meet you, Sarah." He was suddenly very formal, his posture straightening. Sarah guessed he was at least six feet tall with a stocky build, maybe 45 years old. So this is the man I’m going to fall in love with on stage, she thought. I could certainly do a lot worse!

  Xavier stood up and walked to the center of the aisle, stopping directly in front of the stage where he was enshrouded in the shadows that drifted into the darkened house. "I'm so glad you could all join us for our first practice. We're going to do a read through tonight with just the leads. Tomorrow night the chorus will join us and we'll start working on the music. Sound like a plan?"

  There was head-nodding and murmuring in response. "I think we'll be more comfortable if we read around the table back in the green room, don't you?" came a voice from the row behind Sarah.

  She glanced back and saw the voice came from a tall, slender woman with shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, high cheekbones and dark, deeply set eyes dramatically framed with smoky violet makeup. She was striking, perhaps not beautiful but intriguing to look at. "Oh, I'm Lisa," she said, "Otherwise known as Svetlana."

  A spark of recognition ignited in Sarah's memory. Svetlana was Anatoly's estranged wife in the show. After Florence falls for Anatoly, she shares a duet with Svetlana where they sing about the man they both love. Well, Sarah thought, this is certainly going to be interesting. She retrieved her glasses from her purse and twisted her long dark hair up into a clip to get it off her face and neck. As they proceeded to the green room for the run-through, Garrett fell back next to Sarah. "What do you think? he asked.

  "Seems like a good cast," Sarah answered diplomatically.

  He nodded in agreement. "This show is going to kick ass!" he predicted. "Anatoly already has the hots for you." He laughed.

  Or maybe he's just into method acting, she considered as they took their seats around the table, Liam choosing one next to Sarah and Garrett taking the chair on the other side. Sarah felt as though the testosterone being emitted around her was palpable. I kind of like being wedged between two alpha males.

  Their characters were rivals in the show, Garrett playing the American chess player, Freddie, and Liam playing the Russian, Anatoly. As they read through the script, Sarah could see the obvious chemistry between the two of them, both of them passionate and committed even though they stood on different sides of the fence.

  After rehearsal, everyone began to gather up their things amidst chit-chat and budding camaraderie. Liam touched Sarah's arm with his fingertips, sending a little shock up through her spine. "Yes?" Sarah looked at him expectantly. She was surprised to find that he was every bit as aggressive and forward as Garrett. Maybe all these theater guys are like that? she wondered.

  "I'd like to grab coffee sometime," he said, boring into her with his icy blue eyes.

  Why does everyone want to have coffee with me all the sudden? she laughed to herself remembering how James had finally persuaded her to acquiesce to his invitation. "Oh yeah?" she replied.

  Liam nodded. "Garrett can join us if he'd like. I just think we'd have a better connection on stage if we got to know each other a little better off stage. What do you think?"

  Garrett had heard his name and slid back to the table in one long stride. "I think that sounds like a great idea," he offered.

  "Fine, coffee it is," Sarah smiled. "I look forward to it."

  Liam took her hand into his again, the intensity returning to his eyes. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."

  ***

  "How was work, honey?" Maggie called from the kitchen as soon as she heard the back door close.

  James sauntered into the kitchen and gave his bride-to-be a kiss on the cheek. "It was okay. I think I'm back in a routine now finally," he answered. "It's hard to transition from deployment to leave and then back to regular programming." He lifted the pot on the stove to see what was cooking.

  "It's pasta," she clarified as the steam began to rise up into his face, obscuring his view.

  "Good," he said, "I'm starving. Gonna go wash my hands." He headed toward the bathroom and felt his phone buzz in his pocket announcing a text. He glanced at the screen while he scrubbed his hands and saw it was a message from Sarah: We still on for our coffee date? she inquired with a smiley face.

  Hands dry, he put the phone back in his pocket and returned to the kitchen where Maggie was sett
ing the table with James's chipped porcelain dishes. "I can't wait till we have our china and all the other things from our registry." She smiled. "Speaking of which, I have some things I want to show you later."

  Almost every night Maggie would drag out her laptop and show James websites with pictures of cakes, invitations, dishes, silverware patterns, color schemes and ask an endless number of questions aimed at discerning his likes and dislikes. There were a mind-boggling number of choices to make for their wedding and new life together. I thought the big choice was the one to GET married, he thought. Boy was I wrong about that. That's just the beginning. He did his best to be patient with Maggie, but he was surprised that her plans were so grandiose as it was her second wedding. He'd asked her about that, actually.

  "That's exactly why I AM so gung-ho!" she had laughed, her curls bouncing up and down against her face. "I don't want to be bridezilla, but I didn't do things the way I should have last time..." her voice trailed off for a moment. “In many respects," she added, alluding to the demise of her first marriage, which had been nasty and emotionally draining. She squeezed James's hand. "This is my do-over. My happily ever after. I just want everything to be perfect this time, as perfect as you are for me."

  How can I argue with that? he wondered, noticing how soft and watery her hazel eyes had become with sincerity during her explanation. He'd stroked his fingertip down her cheek and pressed his lips against hers tenderly. "Okay, we'll make it happen."

  That was the night he'd committed to a wedding date in June 2013. Over a year away, he realized, thinking it felt so far into the future. She'd wanted an autumn date originally but because of his mother's cancer and not feeling comfortable setting a date until more was known about her condition, he'd pushed the discussion back. When it was evident his mother's prognosis was excellent, Maggie asked for an early spring date, but, still feeling rushed, James convinced her to push it to the summer. His argument was that she seemed to want grand and traditional and nothing conveyed that better than a June wedding.

  Something about the distance of the date made him feel more settled. She was so excited to finally have something concrete, she had spent the rest of the night on the phone with her mother and friends. But when she'd climbed into bed that night, it was on top of him, straddling him with her long, lean thighs while she planted lingering kisses down his neck and chest. In seconds he was sliding his stiff cock deep inside her.

  Maggie cleared the dishes and began to load the dishwasher while James settled in with a book in the living room, as was his nightly custom. He took his phone out of his pocket and laid it on the end table, suddenly remembering the text he'd received from Sarah just before dinner. He texted her back: Of course, 4 PM sharp. Can't wait. He had mentioned to Maggie some time ago that he intended to have coffee with Sarah. She received the news with an expressionless face and then grew very quiet. "You know," he had said gently, "it's okay for me to have female friends. Sarah and I are close. She's not a threat to you."

  Maggie had shrugged off her reticence and forced a half-smile. "Of course, honey, I'm sorry. I trust you. Coffee is fine."

  That conversation had taken place weeks ago now, weeks during which Sarah refused to see him. Now that she'd finally conceded and things seemed to be going smoothly with Maggie, James hesitated to rock the boat by bringing it up again. She already said it was okay, he rationalized. It's just coffee.

  Funny, I think that's how things started with me and Sarah, he remembered. It was just coffee.

  ***

  "I'm nervous, Mom," Abby confessed as they boarded the Metro headed into downtown Washington DC. Sarah was surprised at how affected her daughter was by the prospect of meeting her father since she usually tried so hard to maintain her stoic yet angsty persona. She'd refused invitations from friends the night before so she could go to bed early, and her wardrobe choice for the outing was quite subdued and feminine compared to her usual dress. She wore a flowy peasant style floral blouse and coral-pink capri pants with tan espadrilles that tied around her ankles. She wore her hair down and parted on the side. It had grown several inches past her shoulders now and had already gotten some honey-colored highlights from the spring sun.

  She looks like a lovely young woman. Matt is going to die when he sees how much she looks like him, Sarah thought, watching the way her daughter primly crossed her legs as she perched on the orange vinyl seat of the train. She's grown so much in the last year, physically and emotionally. They'd picked out her prom dress just a few weeks before and Sarah had chills seeing Abby's emerging curves accentuated by the teal-blue beaded fabric. How can this be my little girl? She's 17 now. It just doesn't seem possible.

  Sarah patted her knee reassuringly. "Just be yourself, honey, you'll be fine!"

  "That's exactly what James told me," Abby said, looking momentarily relieved. Well, he's a smart man, Sarah thought, pleased that Abby had someone else to talk to about this. But then her daughter’s expression changed again. "What if my sisters don't like me?" she blurted out, her face clenched with worry.

  "They're little girls," Sarah replied. "They're going to think you're beautiful and smart and will aspire to be just like you." She laughed. "I always wished I had a big sister to look up to when I was little."

  "Really?" Sarah nodded in affirmation and Abby turned to look out the window. The Metro train was about to enter the tunnel that would take them into the city and eventually to the Smithsonian stop, where they’d agreed to meet Matt. The sunlight-flooded train car suddenly switched to fluorescent lighting as they descended into the ground. Sarah could feel the nervous energy radiating from her daughter. She smoothed her hand down Abby's hair, arranging it on her shoulder.

  Would I be nervous if I were meeting my father for the first time today? Sarah wondered. What if I were seeing Joseph Lynde for the first time since I was six years old? Seeing him for the first time in 32 years? Would I even care what he thought of me, of my children, my choices...my life? She could scarcely imagine being in Abby's shoes. It was different when Owen had seen his father the previous summer. He still had memories of the man from when he was younger. It had been a few years, not an eternity like it is for Abby.

  The train made several stops before finally arriving at the Smithsonian station. Sarah and Abby hustled off the car and up the steep escalator that would eject them into the middle of the National Mall. Sarah placed her hand on her daughter's back as if the touch might help soothe her nerves. Sarah had texted Matt from their station of origin to confirm that he and his daughters would be waiting on a bench in front of the Smithsonian Castle which was very close to the Metro stop. The escalator finally flattened and Sarah and Abby found themselves on the cement, feet pointing toward the Capitol, backs to the Washington Monument, which was encircled by flags proudly waving in the spring breeze.

  "There's the castle," Sarah pointed to the gothic brick building to their right. Even from their distance, she could see a man sitting on one of the benches flanked by a blonde girl on each side. Her heart pounded, partially for Abby but partially for herself. Here was the man who had been her boyfriend so many years ago, with whom she'd laughed, drank, ate, sang and slept for nearly two years of her life, only for him to abandon her when he learned of her pregnancy. Did he really refuse to believe the child was his? Or was it just a convenient excuse to shirk his paternal responsibilities? Does he regret it now? There were so many unanswered questions, unspoken words and loose ends. And she suspected that there would be no resolution to these questions after the day's meeting.

  As soon as he saw them approach, Matt stood, followed closely by his daughters, one clinging to his leg, and the other looking as though she was trying to appear older and taller with her chest puffed out. Matt was heavier than in college, thicker but not fat, and his hair was shorter and seemed to be graying at the temples. He wore dark brown-framed glasses and had a reddish-blonde beard that was trimmed closely along his chin line. The first thing he did was embrace Sarah.
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  Sarah stiffened at his first touch but he drew her in close and whispered in her ear, "You're still as beautiful as ever." She felt a chill race down her spine. She wasn't expecting him to touch her, let alone for his presence to have any sort of effect on her. She felt her body go limp in his arms for a second as her mind flooded with memories of all the times she'd lain there.

  Pull yourself together, her Auto-Pilot commanded her. She straightened and backed away, bolstering her professional persona to take over. "It's nice to see you, Matt. You look great too! And these are your daughters?"

  The younger girl was hiding between her dad's legs and the older one had resumed her position on the bench, seemingly bored. Her ears perked up when it appeared she might have some attention given to her at last. "Yes," Matt answered, clearing his throat. "This is Emma," he pointed at the older girl and then to the younger one: "and this is Elise."

  Sarah looked to Abby, who was standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest until she felt her mother's eyes on her, then her arms fell to her sides and she corrected her posture. "I'm Abigail," she said formally, extending her hand to shake hands with her sisters and her father.

  "Oh, don’t be silly, give me a hug!" Matt implored and he tenderly embraced his daughter. Abby closed her eyes as if she was taking a mental picture of this scene, committing it to memory. The day I met my father, Sarah thought, titling it for her. Matt gently pushed her away from him, his hands lightly gripping her upper arms as he studied her closely. "Gosh, I guess I can't deny you,” he observed. “You look exactly like my mom and my sister Tammy!"

  Later in the day after lunch, the group headed to the Smithsonian American History museum. The girls were waiting in line to see the Star Spangled Banner and while they were distracted watching a YouTube video on Abby's phone, Matt pulled Sarah around to face him. His touch against her skin was familiar and strange all at the same time. It's surreal to stand here and look into those eyes, she thought. I've been looking into those eyes on Abby's face for seventeen years yet here are the originals. Every day of the last seventeen years I've had to think of this man and how he gave me everything and nothing all at once. I had to come to terms with it, lest I be consumed by hate.