The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  Abby’s mother did not emerge from her bedroom for the entire four days of the McAllisters’ visit. She holed herself inside, and the only people she would allow in were her mother and James. She refused to see Abby or Rachel until the last day, after the McAllisters had left.

  When Abby was finally granted admittance, she hardly recognized her mother. She was weak and dishevelled, unbathed, and unmade-up. She was an empty shell of her usual self. “I have to call Owen,” were the only words she uttered.

  “No, Mom,” Abby answered. She felt strange having left Mia downstairs with James and Rachel. It was the first time they had been more than two feet apart for the entire trip. “I can call Owen. Why don’t you let me do that? Or Grandma can.”

  Sarah just kept shaking her head. “I need to be the one to tell him.”

  Then she burst into tears. “I’m a terrible mother. An awful, selfish mother. I’m so sorry I’ve been hiding out and ignoring you the whole time you’ve been here.” She was sobbing so violently, Abby could only make out three of every four words.

  Abby rushed to the edge of the bed and threw her arms around her mother’s neck, burying her head in her chest. “No, please don’t say that. We’re all upset and grieving, but you’re in actual physical pain. You take all the time you need. I’m okay. Mia is okay.”

  “I just didn’t know,” Sarah said, tears falling onto Abby’s head, dripping into the part in her hair and seeping into her scalp. “I just didn’t know…” She was rocking back and forth.

  Abby had never seen her mother in this state. She’d seen her upset over James a few times, and she’d witnessed her both livid and hurt over her ex-husband, Owen’s father, on countless occasions. But she had never seen her totally broken, her wounds so deep and fresh that she ceased to function. This side of her mother was scary.

  She’s the strongest, most independent person I know, Abby considered, next to my grandmother, of course. What do you say when the most stable pillar of strength in your life collapses? What do you say when the sun in the middle of your universe begins to extinguish itself?

  She had no words of comfort, nothing of value beyond platitudes. As she and Mia flew back to Colorado, their knees touching in the close quarters of economy class, Abby mentally beat herself up for her failure to get through her mother’s thick fog of pain and heartache. I should have been able to say something wise, something poignant, she thought. I only made things worse.

  Not only did Abby feel guilty for not being able to help her mother, but she felt guilty for Mia’s trip being ruined. “It was really not supposed to be like this,” she kept saying. “My mom and James are awesome. I know they would have loved you if they’d gotten a chance to know you.”

  “I still had a good time, considering. And I am glad I could be there for you,” Mia answered. “Rachel was really fun, and your grandmother is an amazing lady. It’s okay; it’s not like I won’t get to see them again someday. You have a great family, Abigail. You are seriously lucky.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding. I really don’t know how I would have coped without you.” She kissed Mia on the cheek, lingering over her velvety skin for a moment until she was compelled to meander down to brush her lips softly with her own.

  When they landed in Denver, she had called James right away. She didn’t want to disturb her mother, who had finally gotten out of bed and begun to move around the house. During Abby’s last two days in Maryland, they’d opened their Christmas presents and shared a large meal of comfort foods that Kathy and Rachel had prepared two days past the holiday. “Nothing says Christmas like pork chops on December 27th,” James had joked. Sarah, who always laughed at his jokes, hadn’t even cracked a smile.

  Everything felt stilted and surreal. Bizarro Christmas, Abby thought. If Christmas and a funeral had a baby, this would be it. James had even taken the Christmas tree down on Christmas Eve, which was four days after Sarah’s procedure. Procedure. They all kept using that word. Miscarriage stung against their lips too bitterly.

  “I feel bad for having to leave,” Abby admitted to James, whose breaths she could still hear steadily passing through the line.

  “You couldn’t stay forever,” he replied. “And we all need to get back into a routine. I’m glad she has a couple more weeks before she has to start spring classes.”

  “When do you go back to the doctor?” Abby asked.

  “Next week. They need some time to process all the lab reports, and with the holidays it takes longer. We go on the 30th. Owen comes back that afternoon.”

  “Mom still hasn’t told him?” Abby questioned.

  “No. She didn’t want to ruin his Christmas. We all thought it would be best to tell him in person. So Sarah and I will do it together after he gets settled in back at home. And hopefully we’ll have more answers after we see the doctor that morning.”

  “Okay,” Abby said. “I heard Grandma say that the babies had stopped growing at nine weeks. Is that true? How far along was Mom supposed to be?”

  “She was about thirteen weeks. She was supposed to have her appointment with the OB this week, right before Christmas. It was supposed to be at 12 weeks, but since I’d been out of town, we re-scheduled it. Dr. Kapoor was releasing her to a regular OB because everything had looked great the last time we were there. I think she was going to ask you if you wanted to go with her since you were going to be visiting.”

  Abby sighed as that thought jabbed at her already bruised insides. But she was trying to unravel the mystery of what had happened to the twins so she didn’t let the sting persist long. “Did she have an ultrasound at the last appointment?”

  “No,” James replied. “She had one at almost 8 weeks, and when we went in at almost 10 weeks, she said she felt comfortable not having one. She didn’t want to have an ultrasound unless it was medically necessary. Everything had looked on track at 8 weeks.”

  “I just don’t understand what went wrong. I thought they did genetic testing on the embryos before they did the transfer.” In just a few short weeks, her in vitro vocabulary had grown exponentially. What had once seemed like science fiction now had a very personal face.

  “We’ll find out more on the 30th,” James said with resignation. Abby took his tone as an indication he was tired of discussing it. After the initial four days of reclusiveness and silence, Sarah had spent the last three analyzing every bite she’d eaten and every movement she’d made in the past two months. James was likely anxious to put the constant analysis and dissection of the event to rest.

  “Okay, please let me know what they say.” He didn’t respond right away so she added, “Alright?”

  “Of course,” he confirmed. “Bye, Abby, thanks for calling.” He sounded stiff, detached.

  Mia was right there with expectant eyes, waiting to hear the verdict. “Is she doing any better?”

  “I know my mom,” Abby said. “If anybody is going to rise above this, it’s her. She just needs a little time.”

  ***

  The December air was biting Sarah’s cheeks as she faced going out of the house for only the second time in the past two weeks. “You okay?” James asked her for the tenth time. He had asked her that repeatedly and she had always answered affirmatively. But today was different. Today she might get answers. And today was when she was finally able to articulate the sharp stabs of guilt that had been haunting her since the day the world had exploded around her.

  “It’s my fault,” she said as she settled herself in the car. She said it matter-of-factly as she buckled her seat belt.

  James had just slid into the driver seat and begun to turn the key in the ignition. “What do you mean? It’s nobody’s fault, Sarah.”

  “The threesome,” she clarified.

  James closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head very slowly. “Sarah, the ultrasound showed the babies stopped developing at nine weeks. You were eleven weeks when Pawel was here.” He very rarely corrected her memory or logic because she always
knew exact dates and times. Sarah had an infallible internal calendar, and she’d used it to her advantage to win many an argument with him.

  “What if I’m being punished?” she blurted out, as if the fear had been bottled up inside her for so long it involuntarily burst out of her mouth.

  “You’re being ridiculous, baby,” he sighed, placing his hands on the steering wheel. He began to back out of the driveway. “Punished by who?”

  “Whom,” Sarah corrected. She peered through the windshield and across the street to the brick house facing hers. She noticed how perfect it looked, its red façade contrasting against the white blanket of snow that had fallen the night before. The snow seemed to wipe the slate clean, blotting out all remaining vestiges of 2013 and presenting a tabula rasa for 2014. She imagined a caricature of “The Man Upstairs” holding a huge felt eraser, sweeping it up and down the East Coast.

  She had been thinking a lot about Esther Thompson. As a matter of fact, the young student’s face kept appearing in Sarah’s mind ever since her trip to the ER. Even on the car ride there, she envisioned her wide hazel eyes with their forest green flecks and pure white scleras. Her skin was so smooth and unblemished, with a slight olive cast. Maybe it’s so perfect because she doesn’t wear makeup, Sarah considered. She doesn’t poison it with chemicals.

  She thought about Esther’s view of motherhood being the highest calling for womankind. She thought about “purity” and “sin.” Am I a sinner? she wondered. Does God think I’m a sinner because I have slept with so many men? Am I a sinner because I don’t believe I need to be in love with or married to someone with whom I share my body?

  The questions kept coming, burying her under an avalanche of guilt and insecurity. Does God consider me a sinner because I got divorced or because I drink sometimes or because I’ve gotten my mom to watch my kids so I can go out and do adult things? What about the fact that I’ve frequented sex clubs and swinger parties and had threesomes and double penetration? Does he plan to send me to Hell if I don’t repent? Is that what Esther Thompson would tell me if she knew?

  She couldn’t shake the questions. They attacked her like a pack of wolves stalking a wounded and bleeding prey. The voices in her head were pelting her with accusations and all she could wonder is if she had been living a lie. Maybe her promiscuity meant she was a bad, selfish person. Maybe her hedonistic pursuits had been carried out at the expense of her children, both born and unborn.

  She tried to reach down deep and pull out the open-minded, pragmatic sociology professor that lived in her soul, the one who fought off insecurities with facts, figures and scholarly research. She siphoned out the verbiage she would present on a silver platter to any woman feeling guilt over her sexual choices: Did you have sex because you wanted to and so did your partner? Did you enjoy it because it felt good and you made someone else feel good too? Congratulations! You’re not a slut. You’re just human.

  “Sarah?” James asked, his eyes affixed to the road. “Where did you go? You keep disappearing.”

  “I’m right here.”

  He slammed on the brakes to stop at a light that abruptly turned yellow, then red. His eyes never left the glowing red circle as he said in a low voice, “I feel like I’ve lost you.”

  She was silent for a moment as his words sank in. They were filled with despair, despair so painful that he couldn’t admit to it while looking into her eyes. “I feel like I’ve lost me too,” she answered. There was some empathy behind her words.

  They walked into Dr. Kapoor’s office stiffly. Sarah was relieved to be at his office and not the regular obstetrician where young ladies with protruding bellies and swollen ankles would be waddling through the door and squeezing themselves into waiting room chairs. She didn’t think she was strong enough to witness a parade of glowing pregnant ladies. Better to sit in the waiting room at Dr. Kapoor’s office of reproductive endocrinology with all the other couples desperately praying for babies. There was solidarity there, a unity in their collective struggle.

  Sarah signed in and took a seat near the door. Within ten minutes, her name was called and she and James made the walk down the hallway to Exam Room 3. She thought about all the times she had made that walk with a spring in her step and hope in her heart. Even when she had uncertainties, they were tinged with the optimism that whatever was meant to be, would be. Even if they weren’t successful in having a baby, they’d still have each other. She’d still have the man she loved and fought to be with. And that was a lot.

  She could scarcely think that losing her babies was meant to be. It was not an outcome she had even considered. And she could hardly divorce her own culpability from this fate. I know there is something I could have done to prevent this, she convinced herself. She clung to the belief that her body betrayed her, but her instinct should have alerted her something was wrong, that her babies needed saving.

  Dr. Kapoor greeted them with a kind smile, Sarah’s chart tucked under his arm. He ushered them to the two chairs across from the exam table. The nurse had not asked Sarah to change into a gown, even though she was expecting to be examined. Maybe he wants to preserve my dignity while he delivers the test results, she thought, grateful for his consideration.

  “Sarah, James, I’m sorry to see you under these circumstances,” he said softly as he seated himself on the rolling stool near the cabinets and sink. “I went over your reports, the information we have so far. We’re still waiting on some more reports to come back, but from what I can see so far, it appears there may have been issues when the placentas were forming.”

  “So the babies were normal?” James asked.

  “We’re still waiting on all the genetic testing. Right now we just know the gender of the fetuses and that they each had 46 chromosomes. I can share the gender or not, it’s up to you.”

  “Boys?” James guessed without hesitation.

  Dr. Kapoor looked at Sarah for permission. She looked shell-shocked but didn’t object, so he slowly nodded.

  “So what should we do now?” James asked.

  “We still have two frozen embryos. It’s best to wait a few cycles to get Sarah back on track and healed up. Then we can try again, if that is what you both want. I’m not seeing anything in the results so far that dissuade me from trying again.”

  Except that I feel like I’m dying inside, Sarah thought to herself. And that doesn’t seem like a very hospitable environment for a baby.

  “We have less of a chance using frozen embryos than fresh, right?” James asked.

  “I’ve gotten good results from both. There’s no guarantee we’d get as high quality ones in a subsequent round. And if we did, Sarah’s eggs will be several months older. It probably wouldn’t make much of a difference, but it’s common practice to use up the frozen ones before attempting more, if nothing else because of all the resources that go into retrieval.”

  “That makes sense,” James agreed.

  Sarah felt like she wasn’t even in the room, let alone part of the conversation. So I guess James feels like we should try again, she thought. They hadn’t discussed it before the appointment. Shouldn’t it be up to me? she wanted to scream. It’s my body!

  “You don’t have to decide now, of course,” Dr. Kapoor assured them. “I do want to take a look at Sarah just to make sure everything is returning to normal. And I will be calling with the rest of the results from the tests when they come back. It could take another few weeks for some of them. Then we can set up another appointment to strategize the next step.”

  While she got herself ready for the exam, the conversation she’d had with James at Assateague Island early on in their relationship came back to her. She had promised him she would have his baby, if that was the one thing that was holding him back from wanting a serious relationship with her. She had almost begged him to give her a chance.

  And hearing that in her mind left her with one conclusion: she didn’t have much of a choice than to try again.

  ***

&n
bsp; Abby heard her phone ping from the other room and went to retrieve it. She’d been at her dad’s for four days straight. This was the first night she’d gotten to see Mia since they’d returned from Maryland, but she was too afraid that something was wrong with her mother to ignore the incoming notification. She quickly learned it wasn’t a text but an instant message on her Facebook app. And it was from Bree.

  She stood there for a moment, paralyzed and unable to get her fingers to tap the message to read it. She stared at the screen with the letters that spelled out “Breanne Joy Miller” until they went out of focus and then back into focus again. Her heart was racing as she waited for the message to crystallize on the screen of her phone.

  Hey, saw you at that party Saturday nite. Bree was not known for her verbosity.

  Abby and Mia had briefly attended a reunion party of sorts at Chloe’s during their stay in Maryland. Chloe had invited “the gang” and by extension, Bree, but Abby thought she and Mia had left before Bree arrived. At least that was what Chloe had told her.

  She was at a loss for all words, except one. Why? was the one word that kept knocking on the door of her brain. Why after all this time is she trying to start shit with me?

  So, still dating girls I see, Bree continued. I think that chick might have been my polar opposite.

  Damn right, Abby wanted to type, but she restrained herself. Finally, she swallowed hard, wishing her mouth wasn’t so dry. Then she replied, Yeah, well you didn’t say hi. I didn’t see you.

  There was a pause. And then: I didn’t know if you would speak to me.

  From the other room, Mia called in her slightly southern twang, “Abby, are ya comin’ back in here? Ya want me to pause the movie?”

  “I’ll be there in a second!” Abby yelled back. The sound startled Book’s new dog, who had been napping on the rug in the living room. He let out three sharp, high-pitched barks and then trotted into the bedroom to see if Abby was doing anything exciting, or if she had food.