The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  He nodded in understanding. Not necessarily in agreement, he clarified to himself, but he did see where she was coming from. “Is Sarah really going to Poland?” he asked.

  “If you don’t stop her, then yes.”

  ***

  He arrived home to an empty house because Maggie was working a night shift. He stepped down the hallway toward the bedroom searching for a book to read, something to distract him from the constant battle being waged in his head. The first one he spotted was Sarah’s. He traced his finger over her name on the cover: Sarah K. Lynde, PhD, and then cracked open the book to read the dedication, which was the same page she had autographed.

  To my mother and my beautiful children,

  Abigail and Owen;

  I could never have written this without all the love and support you’ve given to me.

  To my friend Rachel, for all the laughs, the tears, and everything we’ve shared throughout the years.

  You are the sister I never had.

  And finally to J - I think about you all the time.

  I hope we get to climb a

  mountain together again someday.

  Her words pierced him clear down to his soul. He envisioned his beautiful Sarah, the way the light danced all around her when they hiked in the Garden of the Gods, the way her face lit up when she saw him, the way her eyes closed when she put her head on his chest, safely wrapped in his arms.

  He buried his face in his hands and collapsed onto his bed, Sarah’s book still in his grasp. Rachel is right. She’s absolutely right.

  ***

  The rest of the week crawled by. Maggie had made reservations for their romantic getaway at a cabin in the mountains near Asheville, North Carolina. They were to leave that Saturday morning. Since he had ended things with Sarah, Maggie had been buzzing through the house subtly radiant with victory. One night, she looked up The Biltmore website and called from across the room, turning the screen so he could view it, “Oh, doesn’t this look amazing? I’ve always wanted to visit.”

  “That looks fun,” he’d distantly replied, his nose buried in Sarah’s book.

  “I can’t believe you’re reading her book right in front of me,” Maggie complained. “You haven’t seen her, have you?” Her voice was laced with suspicion and accusation, which he hadn’t detected since the day following the performance of Chess.

  James shook his head, trying to ignore and not incite her. “I think it’s interesting, that’s all,” he said. “I teach ROTC and we’re on the same campus, so I’m getting insight on my students too.”

  He’d been waiting for Sarah’s name to come back up again; he was certain it would. Little did Maggie know that he had thought of little else in the past week. He had called Rachel every day to ask if Sarah was feeling better. He knew that Abby and Owen had returned from Colorado. Rachel reported that Sarah was putting on a brave face for them, but she still refused to talk about what had precipitated her episode of reclusion.

  James had been trying to decide what to do. I can’t not see her, is what he’d concluded. It had been ten days now and knowing she was so close but so far away was consuming him with desire for her. All he could think about was her dark eyes seducing him, her laugh, her scent. And Maggie had no idea. Contrary to his fiancée’s theory, not seeing Sarah had made his condition worse, not better.

  Maggie had rolled her eyes in response to James’s explanation. “Whatever,” she said.

  Something broke inside of him. “Do you believe it’s possible to love more than one person?” he asked her, suddenly feeling brave, as if his veins were pumping courage like a drug through his blood.

  She hesitated for a moment, letting the question sink it, realizing the full significance of it. “Really? This again? I thought we covered this.” This time her reaction was one of anger, not hurt like it had been before.

  “I love Sarah,” he said, letting those three words hang in the air between them. They sparkled and fell to the ground like fading embers.

  She leapt to her feet and moved around the sofa so that she faced him in his chair. “So what?” she dared him.

  “I need to see her. I love her and I want to be able to see her. I love you too and yes, I want to marry you, but I want an open relationship. I want to be able to see her,” he repeated as if his subconscious had been rehearsing those words the entire week. As if he’d just been waiting for the right moment to uncork the bottle.

  “So you want your cake and eat it too?” she asked, glaring at him, lines he’d never seen before appearing in her furrowed brows.

  “It’s not that crazy, Maggie, people do it. It’s a thing. It’s called polyamory,” he explained, not meaning to sound patronizing but failing.

  “It sounds to me like you just don’t want to choose between us,” she shot back.

  “Well, maybe I don’t,” he tried to sound calm, pushing the rage that was starting to bubble up back down his esophagus.

  “That’s too damn bad,” Maggie said resolutely. “Because you’re going to have to. It’s her or me.”

  ***

  He drove to Sarah’s house that night just as he had the week before, only this time what he planned to say was completely different. It’s a wonder either of these women can put up with me, he thought as he flew down the highway, his window rolled down and the smell of dusk wafting into the cab of his truck. I can’t believe I’ve been behaving like such a lunatic.

  Sarah’s house looked dark with no lights glowing from the windows. What if she won’t see me? he wondered as he walked up the steps to the back door, his heart trembling. He tentatively knocked on the door and waited. Maybe no one’s home. Fuck, what am I doing? He shoved his phone back in his pocket and waited another minute before turning to head back to his truck.

  Suddenly Owen’s young, freckled face appeared in the window of the back door. A huge grin stretched across his lips as soon as he recognized James. He heard the door handle rattling as Owen fumbled with the lock but he finally swung the door open and gushed, “Hi, James!”

  “Hey, kiddo,” James smiled at him, tousling his hair which had grown out and was waving around his ears. He looked so much more grown up than when James had left for Afghanistan just over a year before. “Is your mom home?”

  “Yeah, she’s here. She’s been spending a lot of time in her room, though. I’ll have to go up and get her.” James saw the way Owen wrinkled his nose when he spoke about his mom, as if he was worried about her and found her isolation odd.

  “Okay, I’ll wait,” James replied and stood in the hallway leading from the back door to the kitchen, which was essentially the laundry room. He thought about how many hellos and goodbyes he and Sarah had exchanged in that tiny space. And always with a kiss, he remembered. Always.

  He heard footsteps around the corner and expected to see Sarah’s dark hair and eyes, but it was Abby who greeted him next. Her face lit up and she threw her arms around him, almost knocking him down from the unexpectedness of it, not from her momentum or weight. He hugged her back, thinking about how much he’d missed talking to her over Skype and wishing he hadn’t waited so long to see her in person. “Abby, it’s so good to see you!” he beamed. “How was Colorado?”

  “It was great!” she grinned. “What’s new with you?”

  Before answering, he noticed that Sarah had appeared in the doorway and was watching his interaction with her daughter. She said nothing. Abby turned to look at her mother and saw that her face was devoid of color. She was perceptive enough to know they needed to be alone. “Hope I can see you again soon,” she said and on tiptoe planted a kiss on James’ cheek.

  When Abby disappeared, Sarah sighed. “Why are you here?” Her mind was spinning with half-formed possibilities. Seriously, are you trying to kill me? I don’t know how much more I can take, she worried. I’m weak, James, I’m not as strong as I thought I was after all. But she was unable to verbalize any of it.

  He moved a step closer to her. “I want to talk to
you. I hate the way we left things the other night and I’m worried about you. I heard you’ve barely left the house since then.”

  She shrugged a little, her shoulder rising for a second and then slumping again. She seemed deflated and empty. Her eyes look tired, he observed. Tired of dealing with me and my bullshit. “Can we go talk somewhere?”

  The corner of her mouth slid down momentarily as if to say, “Whatever.” She led him through the house and out the french doors to the deck that was awash in moonlight. Sarah’s backyard didn’t have woods as thick as James’s, but it was still alive with night sounds. In the vast darkness he thought he saw a bat swoop down and then flap out to the edge of the trees. She pulled out one of the patio chairs for him and motioned for him to sit down.

  “I want to apologize for the last time I was here,” James started. She sat across from him, wordless, her lips pursed. He decided to be direct, just like I was with Maggie earlier tonight, he thought. The way I should have been this entire time.

  “I told Maggie I love you. I told her I wanted you both. She told me to choose.” He reached out and took her hand into his. Rachel’s words from their meeting the week before echoed in his head. “I choose you, Sarah. I want to be with you.”

  The meaning of his words was unable to penetrate her heart. I’m numb to this, she thought. This is just his most recent oscillation. Tomorrow he will change his mind again. She swallowed hard. It’s time to end this, once and for all. I can’t be the one he runs to every time he and Maggie fight. I can’t be his consolation.

  She broke from his grasp and stood, walking slowly to the deck railing as if she needed it to hold her up. She turned around and leaned against the long, flat wood, collecting her thoughts, wanting to be deliberate, wanting to feel like they could both have closure.

  She gathered all of her strength to deliver a speech: “James, I’m not right for you. I wanted to be, but I’m just not. I have my kids and my crazy job and conferences and writing. And I love my freedom to go where I want and spend time with whomever I want. I can never be the good Catholic military wife. I’m almost 40 years old, James. I’m not what you need.”

  “What are you talking about?” he argued. “I love that you’re so damn smart and have such a great career. I love that you’re a wonderful mother and I love your kids too. I don’t care about your age and I don’t care that you’re not Catholic.”

  “When I asked you why Maggie, that’s what you told me, that you wanted the 2.5 kids, the white picket fence, the Catholic upbringing, the tradition. I can’t give you those things, James. I am just not that person.” She shook her head emphatically and then added. “Besides, I’m going to Poland next year to teach at the university where Pawel is. Everything has been arranged. It’s been the only thing I’ve been able to accomplish since Chess finished up.”

  He had risen from the chair and joined her at the railing, so close to her that he could smell her perfume. “I know what I said before, but I was wrong. I thought the wrong things were important. Now I realize that the love and the passion we share are what I want. Please don’t go to Poland, Sarah, please? I want you to stay so we can be together.”

  She had grown weary of arguing with him. “Go back to Maggie, James. You’re going to change your mind tomorrow.”

  “Please, Sarah, give us a chance,” he pleaded with her. “I have been living with Maggie the last four months and it’s not working. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to try it with you. Do I want to get married? Fuck, I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I want to wake up next to you, with you in my arms. I just want you to give me a chance, Sarah. Let’s see if we have what it takes. Please don’t go to Poland; stay here so we can work this out. Why won’t you just try?”

  Now this is ironic, Sarah thought, reflecting back to when he’d left for Afghanistan and told her he’d chosen Maggie. She thought about the birthday camping trip they’d taken to Assateague where she’d begged him to give her a chance. All I wanted was a tiny golden chance. That was it. He wouldn’t give it to me.

  “I can’t do this anymore, James, I’m sorry.” She opened the french doors, her weary, tear-streaked eyes directing him back inside. She followed him to the rear of the house and watched him walk out into the darkness with no more words. He didn’t look back.

  She stood for a moment listening to his truck engine start with a rumble. That might be the single strongest thing I’ve ever done, she thought. Or the stupidest.

  ***

  When he arrived home, he found a handwritten note from Maggie on the kitchen counter: I’m going to Ohio for a few days. I can’t cancel the reservation in North Carolina so I guess you are out that money. Figure out what the hell you want. Next to the half sheet of lined paper was a burgundy box. Inside was her engagement ring. He knew he should call her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t have any words for her, only a pile of excuses and regrets.

  He kept asking himself how much Jason’s death was factoring into this. It shook me up, he thought. It reminded me the consequences of choosing the wrong woman. I did it before, and I might have done it again.

  He went to work the next day and tried to concentrate on something, anything, but Sarah. He tried to bury himself in his work. He tried to go out for drinks with work buddies, but after the second beer, he just felt tired and defeated. That’s when he decided: I’m going to the mountains by myself tomorrow. I’m not going to waste the money I spent on that cabin. I’m going to get out of town, do some hiking and clear my head. Being by myself is probably the best thing for me anyway.

  Later that night he went online to print out the reservation confirmation and immediately received a message from Abby that had been sent hours before. “Why won’t my mom talk about you? Why is she acting so weird?”

  She was no longer online, so he sent her this reply: I’m so sorry, Abby. Your mother and I have some adult stuff going on. I’ve decided not to marry Maggie. I love your mother very much, but I’m afraid I’ve lost her since it took me so long to figure out what I want. I’m going to the mountains in North Carolina this weekend to clear my mind. I hope we can still talk, Abby, your friendship means a lot to me. You’re a special young woman. Take care of yourself! James

  ***

  Sarah awoke two days later feeling surprisingly renewed. I think I’m finally coming out of this funk, she thought with relief. Fleeting memories from her conversation with James kept appearing like apparitions, but she fought them off. That wasn’t real, she told herself. None of that was real. It’s finally over.

  She made her way downstairs and was happy to see the morning light filtering through the kitchen window panes. “What a beautiful day!” she said aloud, not caring that no one was there to hear her. She started to think about how all the plans were coming together for Poland. I can’t believe we’ll be leaving in only six weeks. The kids had applied for their passports and their fathers were both supportive of the opportunity for Abby and Owen to experience a different culture for a year.

  I think I’m going to invite Mom and Jack and Rachel over for dinner, she decided as her coffee began to percolate. She hadn’t felt up to company and certainly not to cooking for a big crowd for weeks. She was anxious to prove that she was okay. I’m better than okay, actually!

  I let James control my happiness, she realized. I should never let anyone do that. I’m in control of my own happiness. I’m going to celebrate my recovery with my family and friends and in six short weeks I’ll be getting a fresh start across the Atlantic.

  ***

  After dinner, Thomas and Owen disappeared to play video games with Gia hot on their tails. Abby headed upstairs to talk to Chloe on the phone, and Jack took a fussy Amethyst on a stroller ride through the neighborhood to try to calm her down. That left Sarah, her mother, and Rachel in charge of cleaning up the dishes from dinner. “Dinner was fantastic,” Kathy gushed as she scraped the remainder of the mashed potatoes into a plastic storage container.

  “Than
ks, Mom,” Sarah said as she began to rinse off plates and stack them in the dishwasher.

  “I’m so glad you’re feeling more like yourself, honey,” her mother noted with a smile. She put her arm around her daughter. “So, you realized what I said the other day is true, right?”

  “About love healing all wounds?” Sarah asked. She nodded. “Yes, and I have the love of you and my wonderful children and great friends. I may not have the love of a man, but I have everything I need.”

  Rachel looked up from the table where she had been stacking plates. “But you do have the love of a man,” she contended.

  “I know you think that, but he is just hopelessly confused. He is going to keep going back and forth between her and me, and she refuses to consider sharing him,” Sarah explained. “So it’s over. I’m done. He was over here the other night begging me not to go to Poland and telling me he had chosen me.”

  Rachel let a salad plate slip out of her grip and fall back to the table where it clanked loudly against a plate. “What?!” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “After telling me a little over a week ago that he couldn’t see me anymore because he loves Maggie and wants to marry her, he’s now changed his story again. He said he can’t stop thinking about me. Maggie wants him to choose and he said he chooses me.” Sarah laughed. “I’m sure tomorrow he will change his mind again. Actually, I’m sure Maggie’s already back and they’re picking out wedding flowers or something. Who knows?” She shook her head and smirked.

  Kathy and Rachel exchanged glances. “Wait. He said that he chose you?” Kathy asked again.

  Sarah nodded. “I basically told him to get lost and go back to Maggie.”

  Kathy shook her head. Rachel stood with her hands on her hips, mouth open for a moment without sound before words began to tumble out. “So after a year of him telling you he wants to marry Maggie, he finally tells you he can’t and that he wants to be with you -- and you won’t even give him a chance?”