The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  She loaded up the kids into the car and dropped them off at her mother’s house with a minimum of chit chat. She realized she didn’t actually need an overnight sitter now that she wasn’t going to attend the house party, but she didn’t want to change the plan and deal with questions, plus she was thinking about all the grading she could get done without the kids in her hair that night or early in the morning. It seemed like the prudent thing to do.

  She whipped her little red Toyota into a shady parking place and took a deep breath to quell the butterflies that were forming in the pit of her stomach. Why am I so nervous about this? she asked herself. It’s just coffee. But she couldn’t ignore the instant attraction that she felt toward James as they stood in the crowd at the auditorium. And she couldn’t deny that she was intrigued about what was going on behind those piercing blue eyes.

  She tried to walk down the sidewalk to the coffee shop as nonchalantly as possible, meanwhile engaging in abundant self-talk: Just be yourself...this is no big deal. This might lead to some new research...maybe on the ROTC students or program? Maybe I should take notes. No, that would be weird....right? I wonder how old he is...can I ask him that? Would that be wrong? Maybe it will come up. Okay, shut up and let’s do this... it’s just coffee! She glanced down at her watch: 4:07. Only running a few minutes behind. Fashionably late.

  She immediately spotted him on the far side of the café, looking down at a newspaper with a slight frown, or maybe it was just a serious look. She had a moment to study him while she made her way to the small table he’d claimed adjacent to the windows. He wore baggy khaki pants that were a bit frayed at the cuffs, brown leather sandals and a navy polo shirt. Those rugged hands gripped the paper firmly as his eyes scanned the gray columns. He glanced down at his watch at the exact moment Sarah arrived at the table.

  He immediately stood up and extended his hand, “Dr. Lynde, I’m so glad you could join me.”

  “Oh, please call me Sarah,” she reminded him as she took a seat. She crossed her legs, going for the prim and proper look until things relaxed a bit.

  He folded the paper up and leaned back in his chair. “Alright, Sarah, would you like some coffee?”

  Sarah nearly blushed when she considered that coffee was probably the furthest thing from her mind, but she quickly recovered and nodded. They headed toward the counter to order. While in line Sarah initiated the conversation, trying to avoid any awkward pauses, “How long have you been teaching in the ROTC program?”

  “This is my first semester,” he replied. “How long have you been at the university?”

  “I’m in my second year here after a year post-doc work in New Mexico,” Sarah said. “I think I may actually get the hang of things this year!”

  James laughed. “Well, just based on what I heard on Friday, I’m sure you’re a great teacher,” he said confidently as he paid for their drinks and led her back to the table. When they were seated he continued, “How did you decide to become a professor?”

  Sarah gathered her thoughts, wondering how she could make this piece of her life story succinct when there was so much to it. “I have always been teaching, since I was a little girl,” she reflected. “I thought I wanted to teach high school, but after my first sociology class in college, I was hooked. What about you? Are you new to teaching?”

  James cleared his throat, which she noticed now after a bit of conversation he tended to do when he was trying to appear more serious or professional. It might have annoyed some people, but Sarah found it endearing. She was still struggling to determine if he was in his mid to late 20’s and trying to appear older or early 30’s and just had a youthful look. “I’m brand spanking new,” he admitted. “I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m doing, but I’ve had some good teachers to emulate. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?”

  Sarah laughed and began leaning toward the early 30’s hypothesis. He didn’t speak like someone in his mid-20’s. “I definitely had some extraordinary mentors,” she agreed. “So where are you from?”

  James smiled and looked down for a second as if he had to access the answer from some deep cavern in his mind. “I’m an Army brat,” he stated. “I’ve lived all over. But I guess you could say I spent my formative years in the Midwest. And that’s where my parents settled down after my dad retired.”

  Ah. The Midwest. This is all seeming cliché. The All-American good looks, the Midwestern sensibilities, the military service. He really is GI Joe...or...uh...GI James. Sarah lauded her power of observation, an ability to peg where someone was coming from within mere minutes of meeting him or her. Must be a gift, she chuckled to herself.

  She didn’t usually find herself attracted to wholesome, farm-raised, military types. Her gaze swept from his eyes to his feet and back up again. He’s quite the specimen. Maybe this is just a physical attraction? She had recently dated a long string of academic and artistic types. And she’d completely given up on corporate types following her failed marriage to Mr. Daniel Taylor, the man who still made her shudder when she so much as thought his name or envisioned his face.

  Wait, is this a date? she suddenly inquired, the question bouncing around her mind like a rubber ball. Or is this a professional thing? Her excitement when she received the phone call and anxiousness to see him certainly projected a date-like aura, but his serious demeanor and the small-talky tone that had been established seemed to indicate otherwise. She suddenly felt disappointed. Maybe I should have gone to the house party?

  Sarah realized she had let the conversation lapse while she was in soliloquy mode, which was the last thing she had wanted. “I’m from Colorado originally,” Sarah offered. “It’s been an adjustment getting used to the East Coast. I never thought I’d be particularly well-suited to this region, but I seem to be managing.”

  James nodded. “I have found I can thrive pretty much anywhere. Even in the desert.”

  “Oh, do you mean Iraq?” This conversation might finally be going somewhere.

  “Affirmative,” he smiled. “Although I’ve been back home for two years now from my last deployment. I sometimes consider accepting another assignment but wonder if it would be a lot harder now that my body is older and my brain is wiser.”

  “Voluntarily?” Sarah asked, incredulously. She instantaneously regretted her tone. Way too judgmental, she feared.

  James didn’t miss a beat, clearly familiar with this response. “I know it’s hard for civilians to understand, but there are pros to serving in a war zone,” he replied, still sensing the confusion on her face. “It’s okay, my mother doesn’t get it either.”

  “You don’t have to defend yourself,” Sarah recovered and redirected the conversation. “So, back to the original topic from the other night. I thought you might talk a little bit more about the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell thing?”

  He cleared his throat. “Of course.” He took a long sip of his coffee and thoughtfully set his mug down on the table. She studied his hand and the way his elbow grazed the table. She caught a slight inkling...very slight...that he might be disappointed that the conversation had already shifted back to a professional track so quickly. Argh! she chided herself. Why can’t I stop analyzing and just enjoy this?

  “Being deployed in a warzone, it’s obviously not like everyday life,” he began. “In order for the men to stay focused, accomplish their missions and stay alive it requires - more than anything else - mental discipline. If an individual loses focus and doesn’t see something they ought to have seen, it may not only get them injured but the person next to them as well. It’s imperative to keep distraction to a minimum. It is focus and discipline that make the difference between frightened boys and professional soldiers who get the job done. That’s also why there is no drinking and no sex while deployed.”

  He looked at Sarah to gauge her reaction. She nodded and he continued, this time sounding more like himself and not the “professorial tone” he had just used. “I’m just thinking what it would be
like to have a flamboyantly gay soldier in my bunk going on and on about hair products or something stupid like that. Or wiggling his ass in front of the guys. Or listening to a lisp over the radio...” his voice trailed off suddenly. He could see by Sarah’s expression that she was trying to formulate a diplomatic response to something she passionately disagreed with.

  “You seem to know a lot of gay stereotypes,” Sarah finally remarked. “You asked me last night if I’d ever served in the military, but I have to ask you,” she paused for effect, “Have you ever known anyone who is gay? And do you really believe that – considering all the people you served with -- not a single one was gay, lesbian or bisexual?”

  James was quiet for a moment. He wasn’t one to back down easily, but he was also able to own up when he’d misjudged someone or something. “No, I haven’t ever really known someone who was openly gay,” he admitted.

  “Well,” Sarah said gently, with no trace of judgment, “my brother is gay, and he is one of the most masculine men I know. You’d never know it just by looking at him or talking to him.” An image of her brother Adam popped into her head: tall, well-built, shaggy brown hair, slightly slouchy posture and a way more casual wardrobe than most gay men would find acceptable. He had a deep voice and a really quiet way about him. He was the antithesis of flamboyant or effeminate.

  “I see,” James responded.

  “If openly gay men were allowed in the military, do you think a lot of them would go enlist? I mean, it’s quite a commitment and I would think anyone who joined would be serious and committed to becoming a good soldier. I can’t imagine someone enlisting just to flaunt their sexuality.”

  James smiled, “Yeah, I suppose you have a point, and boot camp does have a way of weeding out those who are unfit for military service.”

  “How many times has your sexual orientation impacted your ability to do your job?” Sarah questioned.

  “Never,” James replied, and a bit of an uncomfortable silence followed. “So your brother is gay, Dr. Lynde,” he finally said. “Care to tell me something else about yourself?”

  “Let’s see if I can manage an executive summary,” Sarah smiled. “I’m divorced, I have two kids, I love to read and write, one of my legs is longer than the other. I’m extraordinarily klutzy, yet I love rock climbing. I guess I have a bit of a reckless streak sometimes. I have a lot of strong opinions. I’m probably not somebody you’d enjoy arguing with unless you don’t mind losing.”

  James obviously took that as a challenge. “I don’t have to win... all the time...” he replied, emitting a suggestive flash from his blue eyes and leaning back against his chair, his posture open and inviting. Sarah was pretty certain he wasn’t talking about a verbal argument.

  “So, speaking of rock climbing, you said you were from Colorado,” he redirected the conversation. “My dad was stationed at Fort Carson for a little while when I was young so I lived in the Springs for a while. I’ve done some rock climbing as well.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” Sarah exclaimed. “Colorado Springs is beautiful...Pikes Peak, Garden of the Gods...what’s not to love?”

  “It’s easy to miss the mountains when you’re out here on the East Coast. I go up to PA sometimes to ski, but it’s not the same as the Rockies,” he admitted. “So you ended up out here for your job?”

  She nodded. “It’s pretty typical for us academic types to search nationally for positions. You have to find a college hiring in your specialty. I got lucky to land such a great tenure-track position even after the economy tanked.”

  “Well, I’m sure it speaks highly of your credentials...and abilities,” James noted. He looked at her so intensely that she could feel his eyes boring through her. “Smart and beautiful,” he summed up his findings. “I’m sure you would be at the top of the pack for any position you applied for.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at his flattering statement. Maybe this is a date? she oscillated again. His demeanor seemed to have changed, relaxed. Perhaps it was her strategic just-enough-cleavage blouse. Maybe it was that sultry look she had a habit of casting from her dark eyes.

  She suddenly felt flushed...her head was spinning with wild thoughts ...envisioning those fingers grazing her skin...those intense eyes caressing her body in a more private setting. It’s been too damn long. She suddenly remembered her empty house, her empty bed, and all of her damn rules she had just reviewed earlier that day… Is James McAllister rule-break worthy?

  It’s like he read her mind: “So what are you doing tonight?”

  Her heart started racing as her eyes met his again. Her responsible adult self kicked the wanton slut she’d tried so hard to repress out of the way. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade,” she blurted out before she could change her mind. “In fact, I should probably wrap this up and get home soon, as much as I’d like to stay and get to know you better.”

  Despite Sarah needing to get home, more conversation followed. She finally got the answer to the age question: he was 29. She learned James was the oldest of three, with two younger sisters. She discovered he had a soft spot for country music and, surprisingly, classical. But mostly he remained a bit on the mysterious side. As much as Sarah enjoyed unraveling mysteries as quickly as possible, she sort of liked this murkiness. He was a puzzle she wanted to take as much time as she could to solve. After all, the puzzle isn't quite as fun after all the pieces have been put together.

  James walked her to her car another hour past when she said she needed to go. Then there were twenty more minutes that slipped away as she leaned against it, suppressing moderate concern her backside was getting filthy. Then there were the last few minutes when he leaned in so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, told her he hoped to see her again, and kissed her...light as a feather, his lips barely brushing hers.

  When he walked away, the sun was starting to sink behind him.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  The First Time

  Sunday evening Sarah was scrambling to finish up her grading. The extended coffee date coupled with the half bottle of wine she consumed Saturday night, plus the movie outing she’d taken Abby and Owen on that afternoon had really cut into her work time. She sat in her armchair with the pile of papers on the end table, her red pen getting a workout. She was listening to the music and sounds of the video game her kids were playing and found her mind wandering again and again to nowhere in particular. She finally decided to call Rachel and get the scoop on the house party.

  Rachel sounded even more tired than Sarah felt. “We didn’t get back until noon today, and I haven’t really been to sleep yet except an hour or so in the car. I’m so glad Mark drove!”

  “See, it worked out better without me going, cause you know I would have wanted you to drive if I’d consumed a drop of alcohol in the preceding 8 hours,” Sarah joked. “But the real question remains: did you get laid?”

  Rachel deadpanned, “Seriously? It’s me...of course I did.”

  Sarah was shaking her head at her friend’s predictability and waiting, more or less patiently, for details. “Oh, don’t make me beg! Spill it, woman!”

  “There was this couple, mid 40’s, very fit and hot,” she started, as if the details were about to explode under pressure. “We were in the hot tub, and I noticed Mark had moved really close to her. Then her husband started inching toward me...and well, we started there and then ended up taking things inside to one of the bedrooms. He was pierced!”

  Sarah smiled, glowing in her friend’s happiness. “Nice!” she exclaimed as Rachel began to share all of the juiciest nuggets from the encounter. Some might have accused her of over-sharing, but this was Classic Rachel, and Sarah loved her for it.

  “So....” Rachel finally wrapped up her story, “How was your date?”

  Sarah considered what details she wanted to share, not being quite as forthcoming as her best friend. Especially when meeting new people, she didn’t particularly like to share information until she k
new if it was going somewhere. She always wondered if that was a fear of rejection thing. If it didn’t work out, she’d have to admit to herself and her friend that he wasn’t interested, or whatever the issue was.

  “Well,” she began, knowing she wasn’t going to get away with silence on the matter, “his name is James and he’s 29. He’s an ROTC instructor at the university. He seems really bright. And good looking.” Obviously Rachel would hone in on the latter.

  “Young. Hot. Military,” Rachel summarized. “I like where this is going. So did you fuck him or what?” She always cut right to the chase.

  Sarah laughed, “Seriously, Rachel, you know me better than that. It was just coffee. Nothing more. Although I’m considering asking him to dinner next weekend,” she admitted, a vision of James’ intense blue eyes popping into her mind.

  “Go for it,” Rachel encouraged. “I probably want you to fuck him as much as you want to!” She laughed so hard at her comment that the chuckle morphed into a minor coughing fit.

  “Ha ha, I bet you do,” Sarah replied once her friend settled down. “Yikes, hope you’re not catching a cold, honey.” She paused for a moment, then, “Alright, listen, I have to get back to grading. We’ll have lunch on Tuesday, okay?”

  “Sure thing, Babydoll!”

  ***

  Sarah could compose a treatise on patience, or lack thereof. She was thinking about how a few years ago if two days passed after a date and she didn’t hear anything, she would have given up hope and written him off. Now, she was calmer, more rational, and realized that it really was okay if a) if she didn’t hear from the individual at all, and b) if she initiated that contact herself.