The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  What now? he asked himself. It seems easier to let her keep doing the talking, he decided.

  She slammed the door of the dishwasher and refocused her dagger-throwing glare onto him. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you in love with her?" When his mouth remained closed she spewed, "Fucking answer me, James!"

  "I did see Sarah last night after you left because I wanted to tell her how impressed I was with her performance," he answered, only addressing the previous line of questioning, avoiding the most recent. When she continued to pierce through him he realized an answer was compulsory. "And yes, I do still have some feelings for her,” he ejected from his mouth, as if the phrase was spring-loaded.

  He watched his fiancée begin to crumple under the weight of his admission, her body curling inward like air being let out of an inner tube, quickly deflating. He thought she might collapse. Moving toward her, he caught her as she slumped against him, the victim of a stab to the heart. She sobbed into his shoulder as he held her close, her curls tickling his nose as he buried his face in her hair. "Maggie, I love you too. That's the problem," he admitted. "I love you too."

  "I've got to go," she said. "I'm sorry." She ripped her body from his arms and walked out the back door, leaving it half open, too weak to slam it behind her.

  ***

  Dear Pawel,

  I got the formal invitation to come to Poland in my inbox today! Oh, darling, this is so exciting but I have to admit that I'm feeling somewhat reticent at the moment. Everything here seems in flux.

  First off, Garrett and I broke up last week and although I don't want to go into the gory details at this juncture, I promise I will fill you in next time you call. It's for the best, really, as I'm not sure he's ever been faithful or honest. You know, I mean faithful in the sense that he kept his promises to me.

  Chess is underway and I have two performances under my belt and six more to go. I feel like I can't think or even breathe until we strike the set next weekend. It's been such an emotional investment. I had no idea how deeply ingrained the character would become. She feels like a part of me now, my alter ego. And, as she faces some impossibly tough choices in the course of the show, I too face my share of potentially life-altering decisions. We seem inextricably linked.

  James came to see the show on opening night. Oh, Pawel, watching him watch me from the audience was so intense. I felt like he was looking through me, all the memories of our time together pulling him toward me. Or maybe I was the one doing the pulling. He waited for me after the show and told me he still loves me. I can't even tell you how amazing the scene we enacted right there in the parking lot of the theater was - so much passion. It is unbelievable.

  But I stopped him from going all the way. I know cheating on Maggie is tearing him up inside; I can feel it. I just want him to admit that it's alright for him to love two women. It goes against every single thing he has ever been taught. I encouraged him to talk to her about it, but he feels quite certain she will reject the idea. I think he has to at least try.

  Does he really think that this feeling for me is going to go away if he shoves it aside and tries to play the dutiful husband? I don't know, Pawel, I want to think we have a chance at something, something everyone can be happy with. Is that way too fantastical to hope for?

  So I have two weeks to give a final decision to the powers that be at your university. I need to talk to my chair and possibly the dean about my position and whether or not it's too late to get approval. I need to talk to my mom and Rachel and the kids. I need to see if anything happens in the next week with James. I can't stand the thought of leaving him now that he's just come back and there may be a tiny sliver of a chance we can be together, even if it's not exclusively.

  I'll keep you posted, darling, and I'm sorry for my indecision. You know that no matter what happens, I will always cherish your friendship and hold you close in my heart.

  Love always,

  Sarah

  ***

  Sarah was on Auto-Pilot as she drove her children to the airport so they could fly to Colorado to see their fathers. Her mother was in the passenger seat encouraging both of her grandchildren to use good manners, to communicate with their mother regularly, and to enjoy themselves. It was the standard departure speech that Sarah remembered getting when she went off to camp in the summer. Except the regular communication part back then referred to writing letters, Sarah sighed. Long before the age of cellphones.

  She walked Owen and Abby to the terminal slowly. She hadn't perfected a departure speech like her mother, although she remembered well the words she'd shared with Owen before left for Christmas with her brother Adam and his boyfriend Brandon. I guess this is the way things will be from now on, she thought, with them going to visit their fathers.

  She had not yet broached the topic of Poland with the children's respective fathers. Although she retained full custody of both children, she secretly worried they would want to take her to court. She was prepared to make a bargain for keeping the kids in Poland for the school year with the option of letting them stay in Colorado the following summer. She had asked Abby and Owen to keep Poland a secret until Sarah could talk to Daniel and Matt. Both agreed and seemed half excited, half nervous about the prospect of a year abroad.

  At first, she braced herself to avoid turning on the waterworks at the security gate, but then she realized these TSA agents probably see these sorts of tearful goodbyes all the time. Besides, what do I care what anyone thinks? I'm a mother who loves her children. What the hell is wrong with that? She noticed Owen was crying too. This would be the longest she had ever been away from either of them. Abby seemed to be taking it in stride. "It's just a week and a half, Mom," she'd said, flaunting her independence.

  "I know," Sarah had answered, holding her daughter's petite frame against her chest tightly anyway. "I'm going to miss you guys."

  She watched the two make their way through the TSA line and waited to see that their documentation was acceptable. Abby hoisted their bags onto the conveyer and put her purse and their shoes in the plastic bin to roll through the x-ray machine. They walked through the metal detector and nodded earnestly at the smiling agents.

  They're going to be okay, she thought. Just like my mother let Adam and me spread our wings and fly, I have to do the same. Kathy squeezed her daughter’s hand at the same moment another tear dripped down her cheek, almost as if she had sent Sarah that advice telepathically.

  As they headed toward the parking garage, Sarah received a text from James that only said four words: "Maggie just walked out."

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen

  Heaven Help My Heart

  The darkness has caused me to lose my bearings. I stumble into what I think is a cave, but it turns out to be an opening between two rocky pillars and at the end, it's barely wide enough for me to squeeze my body through. I try not to think about all the creatures that might be abiding in the crags and crevices as I feel the passage narrowing and closing in on me. I wish my vision would refocus as I scan for a break in the darkness, for the watchful eyes of stars shining down on me. As soon as I finally see the sky stretched above, I feel something - or someone - grab my arm.

  So I'm pulling myself and this unknown beast clenches onto me through the narrow passage while it is trying to pull me the other way. I summon all my strength and heave myself past the small opening, scraping my shoulder and hurtling my pursuer to the ground in front of me. He scrambles to his feet and I realize it's the same assailant who has been following me up the mountain: the man in black. He swings at me and misses as I weave and duck. I still can't see anything but the whites of his eyes and I'm trying to read them when I feel a swift blow to my groin. I fall to my knees in pain.

  I'm lying there, my hands over my privates, groaning when he leaps on top of me, his gloved hands pinning me to the ground. There's a sharp rock under my back and I feel it cutting into me, nearly displacing the agony I’m feeling from the kick to my balls. From some
where I get another burst of adrenaline, and I manage to sweep my arms out from under him, grab his wrist with one hand and use my knee against his shoulder to force him over onto his back. We're both gasping for air, but now I have the upper hand, straddling him as I feel the pain begin to subside and my strength return. I hold him captive with one hand and with the other I rip off his black mask.

  He's me.

  ***

  Sarah was ready to play hermit for a few days. Having three shows back to back, expending all of her energy on stage had completely exhausted her. She planned to catch up on laundry and reading. And nothing else, she promised herself as she stroked down the back of her cat, who was arching and purring, rubbing herself against Sarah's arm as she languished in bed. She had already ignored a call from Rachel. I just need to think, she determined. A few hours of peace. Is that asking too much?

  She'd been texting back and forth with James the previous afternoon when she dropped the kids off at the airport, but then the texting abruptly stopped. Sarah assumed that Maggie had returned home and they were trying to discuss their issues. I can't think about that, she realized. It's making me sick to my stomach.

  She climbed out of her bed and headed down to the kitchen to make coffee. She was surprised to see a blonde-framed face peering through the glass of the french doors that led to her deck. She immediately recognized the face as belonging to Abby's friend Bree. Sarah unlocked the doors to the deck and ushered the slim, golden-skinned girl inside. She wore a yellow halter top and short denim cut-offs. "Is Abby here?" she asked.

  In this day of cell phones and Facebook I thought friends knew each other's whereabouts at all times, Sarah mused. How did she not know Abby left? Then she remembered that they'd had a falling out at some point, the details of which she wasn't privy to. "Abby went to Colorado to visit her father," Sarah explained. "She won't be back till the end of next week."

  The young girl's face instantly registered disappointment. Ah, it's true that frowning uses more muscles than smiling, Sarah thought, watching Bree’s cotton candy pink lips curl downward. "She won't answer my calls or texts," she admitted in a soft voice.

  "What happened between you two?" Sarah asked gently. "She wouldn't really tell me. Is everything okay? Can I do anything?"

  "Thanks, Dr. Lynde," Bree answered. "I wish there was something. She is really stubborn."

  Sarah cracked a smile. "Ah, you noticed that too?"

  Bree slowly nodded, a tear breaking loose and sliding down her cheek. "She was trying to make me jealous by going to prom with Hunter, and then she was mad when it didn't work."

  "Jealous?" Sarah asked, confused. She knew that Bree had been dating a senior football player at Abby's high school. "Did you have something going on with Hunter?"

  Bree's cheeks suddenly flushed and she stumbled backwards a few steps. "No," she answered. "Not exactly."

  "I don't understand," Sarah replied, her mind scrambling to make sense of Bree's story.

  "Never mind, Dr. Lynde, it's okay. Just tell her I stopped by, and that I hope we can be friends again someday." Having recovered her balance, she slipped past Sarah and exited the same door she'd arrived by.

  Sarah stood in her living room with her mouth open, still trying to process what Bree meant by Abby trying to make her jealous.

  ***

  James rounded the curve outside his neighborhood and aimed his car toward the highway. He'd be at Sarah's house within thirty minutes. The sun had just set and darkness was creeping into the woods that lined the road. Past another curve there was a clearing, a dusky meadow flickering with fireflies and gleaming under a rising moon. He remembered the night Sarah had fled his house in the wee hours of the morning. He remembered her saying that she had conceded him to Maggie that night. That she felt like she had been standing in the way of his happiness. Now he felt that way about her.

  Maggie had arrived home only a few hours after she stormed out. She slept for a few hours to recover from the night shift she’d worked and then was finally amenable to talking. James had gently laid out a proposal of sorts that included a relationship with Sarah. Maggie repeated several times, "But I thought you wanted to marry me."

  She isn’t getting it, he realized. "I do want to marry you, Maggie, that's not what this is about,” he explained.

  "What is this about?" she fired back. "Sex?"

  "Maybe partially that...or maybe it's about one person not being able to meet all of your needs," he answered patiently. He’d calmed down; he'd planned out how he should frame what he wanted. He hoped she wouldn't be too frightened to consider what he was really saying.

  "I just want to start our life together, James. I want to have your children. I want to have a house and a family and a normal life together. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted, really, since I was sixteen years old. And now you're telling me I'm not enough for you." She had also calmed down considerably since the morning accusation hurtling session, but the pain was still there, rising to the surface again.

  He stiffened. This isn't working. His head was pounding again, and the dream he'd had that afternoon when he'd drifted off for a few hours swarmed around him like his head was stuck in a beehive. Fighting with myself. Months of these dreams and I finally understand why. Fuck. Why am I having such a hard time with this?

  He'd risen from the couch and stood to look out across the woods. The strip of flowers Maggie had planted next to the deck had thickened and bloomed: yellow day lilies, orange tiger lilies and purple salvia all waving their plumes in the late June breeze. He remembered the vision he'd had of Maggie holding their child, the one that had captured his imagination during his welcome home party she arranged for him. She was holding his niece but he imagined a little curly blonde baby that was theirs, the next generation of McAllisters.

  The tears were now streaming down Maggie's face as it was hitting her that everything she'd believed in might be crumbling to ruins around her feet. "You don't really love me," she sobbed, as if each word was piercing through her heart.

  I have to make this right, he thought. I can’t hurt her. I brought her all the way out here and asked her to be my wife. I made a promise that we’d marry when I returned from Afghanistan. He walked to the couch and pulled Maggie to her feet. "I'm sorry I'm struggling with this...I'm still trying to get over Jason's death."

  "Do you think you're infatuated with Sarah?" Maggie asked, sniffling. "I mean, she is very pretty and she's talented. I saw the way you responded to watching her on stage. I think maybe you are in love with the idea of her because she's older and wiser and because she writes and teaches about sex. Maybe she fulfills some older woman fantasy you have? I don't know, James, I'm trying to understand, I really am." Her face was still streaked with tears, but her eyes were clearing. "I know things have been hard since you got back, with your mom's cancer and Jason and all that. I'm trying to be patient."

  He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, then took her hands into his, holding them in the space between their bodies. "I know you are, and it means a lot to me. I...I do want a family, Maggie, I do want all that. I know we want the same things. I guess I feel like my emotions are getting in the way of my logic. I don't know how to turn them off."

  Maggie smiled sympathetically as if she realized that the pendulum was swinging in her favor. Her face began to clear and her posture straightened. "I think you need to stop seeing her, James. Really. It's just confusing you. She placed her hand on his knee. “Let's go away, okay? Let's take a little vacation and get away from everything. I've built up plenty of leave time so we can go hiking or camping or whatever you want. We'll just get out of town for a few days and reconnect and be together. What do you think?"

  He cleared his throat, relieved that she was no longer crying or yelling. "Let me go talk to her in person," he said. I have to explain to her why, he thought. As much as I pushed for our friendship and thought I could do it, I realize now that I can't. She was the one who didn't think she was strong e
nough to handle it, and it turns out it was me. "And that will be it, I promise."

  "You promise? And we can plan a trip?" Maggie's whole demeanor had changed, the light her within had been reset.

  "Yes, baby, that sounds nice," he said, kissing her again on the cheek.

  An hour ago that sounded like a perfectly logical and rational decision, but now as his truck sped toward Sarah's house, his stomach was churning at the prospect of never seeing her again. How can I do this? How can I choose between two women I love?

  He'd sent her a text: Can I come over? Need to talk. It was neutral. Who knows what she thinks I'm going to say, he thought. But I can't keep taking her on this emotional roller coaster ride. It's not fair.

  She answered the door wearing a soft green chemise, no bra or panties. He saw the way the thin cotton clung to her hips and bottom as she led him into the living room. I can't think about what's under that nightgown, he decided. Otherwise this conversation isn't going to get anywhere. I've got to focus.

  They both took a seat on her sofa and he proceeded to explain what he’d discussed with Maggie. He plead with her not to be upset. He told her she was right, that they couldn't see each other in person without wanting more. And she sat, stoically absorbing his words, saying nothing.

  "Sarah, I love you, and I always will," he said, her one consolation prize. It rolled off his tongue like it was made of sugar, dissolving in her ears. His heart ached like it had the night he told her he’d proposed to Maggie. He wished she would say something... anything...scream or cry or react in some way. He felt like he must keep talking. "Maybe someday we can try this again, seeing each other as friends, I mean. But right now I feel like I'm torn and losing sight of what I'm supposed to be doing."