Sarah patted her friend’s knee as she took the exit toward the shop. It is nice to see a genuine smile on Rachel’s face again, Sarah thought with relief. “I’m really glad to hear that, sweetie.”
“I know you’re going through a lot right now.” Sarah glanced from the road into her friend’s sincere eyes, surprised to hear those words come out of Rachel’s mouth. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you,” she continued. “I know it must be hard considering what’s going on with you and James.”
Sarah looked back down at her grip on the steering wheel. She felt her palms tighten around the leather. “I said goodbye to Pawel last night,” she said tensely, her eyes still fixated on the road as she coasted to a full stop at a red light. “And next week I say goodbye to James. My heart hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered, not knowing what else to say.
“Maggie was here this week visiting him,” Sarah informed her friend. “I just don’t know what else I could have said in Assateague. I threw myself at his feet. I practically begged him to choose me.”
“Hasn’t he said a million times he can’t choose anyone before he leaves?” Rachel clarified. “Why are you pushing so hard?”
Sarah shrugged. “I know him,” she said. “I think he will want to go with some sort of resolution. I know that’s what he did the first time he deployed. Even if he doesn’t tell either of us which way he is leaning, I still think he knows what he wants in his heart of hearts.”
“Can you even imagine going off to war?” Rachel asked. “I would be so fucking scared. Who the fuck knows what kind of crazy, irrational stuff I might do and say before I left.”
Sarah laughed, “You are going off to war. You’re getting married.”
Rachel laughed too and started to gather up her things while Sarah searched for a parking space. Before Sarah turned off the ignition, Rachel gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a hug. “I love you, Sugarlips, and no matter what happens, you know I’ll be here for you, right?”
Sarah nodded, suppressing a tear. At the rate I’m going with crying, I’m not going to have any tears left for when James leaves, she mused. Maybe that is for the best.
***
Two nights before James departed, he visited Sarah’s house to say goodbye to the kids. Rachel and Jack joined them as well as Kathy, who had met James when Sarah was in the hospital after her accident. Afraid it would be a somber affair, Sarah did her best to keep the mood light, playing some happy music and trying to create a festive atmosphere.
Owen made a banner that said, “We’re proud of you, Lt. McAllister” and had gotten his entire fifth grade class to sign it before school had let out for the summer. James was completely overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of this young man but also remarked that he was not in the least bit surprised that he had such compassion. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all,” he laughed, giving Owen a salute and then a hug.
Abby made James a special dessert and a card in which she wished him well. Rachel and Jack also got him a card and expressed their regrets that he wouldn’t be joining them on their special day. And finally, Sarah presented him with photos of herself that he’d taken in Colorado as well as the Christmas photo of her and the kids. Then she played a special slideshow with pictures she’d collected throughout the time they’d been together, including ones that his students had emailed her when she’d sent out a request to them before the semester ended. The slideshow ended with a view of Pikes Peak from the spot in Garden of the Gods where he’d first told her that he loved her.
James was fighting his emotions. At one point in time, he excused himself to the restroom, and she wondered if he was bolstering his resolve. She knew he’d be able to keep it inside because he wouldn’t want the kids to see him cry. She had never seen anything more than a tear collect in the corner of his eye, stubbornly refusing to fall.
When he returned from his brief sojourn, he was full of smiles and appreciation. He even gave a little speech about how he fully expected to Skype with everyone and promised to keep everyone in the loop while he was away. “It’s only nine months,” he reminded them. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I have one more thing for you,” Sarah said, withdrawing a wrapped package from a drawer of the buffet in the dining room where they were gathered.
“You’ve already done so much! What else could you possibly give me?” he questioned. “Nothing else mushy, I hope!” Everyone laughed.
“Just open it,” Sarah commanded and he complied, his fingers ripping through the red, white and blue wrapping paper.
His eyes were wide as he studied the package. It was an e-book reader. He flipped the switch and saw it was pre-loaded with all of his favorite books plus a few of Sarah’s favorites, ones she’d always said he needed to read. “And as soon as my book comes out, you can add it too!” Sarah laughed.
He turned the reader over in his hands and shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asked. “Don’t you like it?”
James was fighting that tear again. “Like it?” he echoed. “Owen, I absolutely love it. It’s the best, most thoughtful gift I have ever gotten. Your mom knows how much I love to read. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
That night James crawled into Sarah’s bed and they fell asleep curled together but clothed. They didn’t make love. Sarah had still not decided if she could bear to make love to him knowing it might be the last time. I have less than 24 hours to decide.
***
Sarah stumbled into his doorway amidst a suitcase, two laptop bags, two grocery sacks full of books and miscellanea and a huge canvas military bag. She felt nauseous seeing all his things lined up in the hallway. He’s really leaving, she thought. By this time tomorrow, he will be gone.
He came around the corner and jumped at the shock of seeing her. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” he admitted, taking her into his arms.
She carried the sacks of Chinese food into his dining room. She didn’t want him to dirty any dishes, and she wasn’t sure she could get through dinner in public without crying. She started to unpack the food while James grabbed paper plates from the kitchen. Sarah was quiet. She scraped some rice and chicken onto her plate and sat hunched, mindlessly chewing.
I don’t know if I can do this, she thought. Come on, Auto Pilot, help me out. Then she realized: No, wait a minute, I need to feel this. I will regret this someday if I don’t embrace the pain and let my heart feel the impact. That’s the only way I will heal.
Then only a few moments later: I don't know why I'm being so crazy about this, she thought, taking a sip of her soda and wishing she had brought wine to dull this throbbing pain. Is it that I worry about him not coming back alive or I worry about him not coming back to me? Her selfish, egocentric motivations were making her feel a combination of guilt, anger and resentment. She didn't like these dark, ugly thoughts that had taken her mind hostage.
James was equally quiet and subdued, and he refrained from asking Sarah what was going through her mind. It was as if neither wanted to know what the other was thinking. That may be a first, Sarah thought, considering how many times she would have paid money to explore the deepest recesses of James' mind. He seems as distracted and out of sorts as I do, she thought. Maybe my being here is a mistake.
She'd hardly seen him or talked to him since Maggie visited the week before. When she’d asked him how Maggie’s visit went, he was fairly evasive, the Old James. Sarah tried to imagine her moving throughout James' house, stumbling over his laundry and inadvertently knocking over a stack of books. She tried to imagine her doing his dishes or combing her hair in his bathroom. She tried to imagine them domesticating. Would she make him happy? Could she?
Her mind went even where her heart forbade. She envisioned them making love, James kissing her neck the way he kissed her, Maggie's head thrown back in ecstasy as she climaxed around his cock. She wondered if they curled together like pre
tzels afterwards or if that was something special he only did with her. Is there anything special between me and James, or are Maggie and I just interchangeable vaginas? Are we just bodies to keep him warm at night, to provide companionship, to offer a feminine perspective on the world?
James looked up from his plate, his eyes looking tired and sad. "What's wrong with you tonight?" he asked as if he didn't already know.
She glanced up at him, her doe-like eyes meeting his as if to ask: Seriously? She stared past those blue irises, deep into the black abyss of his pupils, analyzing the pinpoint of white where the light reflected. Don't you see this pain? Don't you see what you're doing to me? But she held her tongue from speaking.
He silently stood up and carried the remains of their dinner to the kitchen while she sat at the table, paralyzed, too numb to move. No matter what the motivation was, no matter where her fears originated, there was no denying her heart was breaking from the potential finality of their goodbye. There was some intangible quality in the air that made her feel so desperate, so hopeless. She felt the pressing hand of time squeezing the breath from her lungs.
"Let's go sit in the living room," he suggested upon his return from the kitchen. He grasped her hand and pulled her up, noting how weak and compliant she felt in his grip, a rag doll. Listless.
His hand never left hers from the time he made eye contact with her from their respective spots on the sofa until the end of his speech. She knew by the way he cleared his throat that what was coming was going to be a bomb detonating, the destruction of her hopes. "Sarah, I have something I need to tell you."
Tell me, not ask me, she thought. And she knew what was coming.
"I am going to ask Maggie to marry me," he said bluntly, not even waiting for the knife he’d stabbed into her heart to sink in. "We talked a lot about it when she was here last week, and I think it's what I want. She's going to move here and get a job while I'm away. She loved it here," he added with an inadvertent smile, twisting the knife a little deeper.
Her bleeding heart was in her throat. She forced some of her pragmatism to rise to the surface, to take over her speech. "I thought you said you weren't going to decide till you returned,” she protested.
He nodded, as if it was a question he anticipated. "I thought so too, but I changed my mind.” He paused for a moment, then realized he should restate his position, “I love her...and when I get back, we want to start a family."
The throbbing pain was giving way to anger. "So nothing I said to you on Assateague matters? You don't care that I am willing to have your baby? Nothing I said made any difference to you at all?” The desperate conversation on the beach where she’d thrown herself at his feet, promising him everything, surrendering her heart to him echoed through her mind like the collateral rumblings of distant thunder.
His blue eyes were trembling, filling with tears like icy pools. She noticed the crisscrossing red streaks splintering through the white. Red, white, and blue, she smirked. How patriotic.
"I thought a lot about what you said," he admitted. "I tried to picture it...I tried to picture us together like that."
Her eyebrows arched in a very easily interpretable question mark.
"I couldn't do it...couldn’t picture it....and I don't know why. I have feelings for you, Sarah, but not in a family or marriage kind of way. I don't know why.... There's some sort of wall." He shook his head as if his being perplexed was all the explanation she needed.
"What do you mean, 'wall?'" she fired back. "You shouldn't have any walls when it comes to me. You can tell me anything; I want you to feel like you can tell me anything." She felt like she was pleading, begging for a chance. Just a tiny golden chance.
"Sarah, I don't know how to explain it. I know I love Maggie and I can see us together. I can picture it. I’ve known her for a very long time. I pictured us together when we were still kids even. She and I are from the same place and we’re at the same place in our lives now. You already have your kids and you'd be starting over and I..."
She stood up and moved to the window, studying the leaves swaying in the tall trees at the property line. I've come so far and I've fought so hard...but I've lost. I've lost him. Maybe I pushed too hard, maybe I didn't help him see. The vision is intangible.
Every nerve in her body was fighting her presence there. I need to leave. She headed toward the door, but he leapt up into her path. His hands were on her shoulders, "Please, Sarah, please don't be like this."
"So what happens now? What happens to me? Do I just fade out of your life? Do I just step aside and let you go off to war and pretend we never had this, that we never were together?" She was crying, big fat tears streaming down hot against her flushed cheeks.
He pulled her into his arms and held her so tightly that her breath was limited to tiny gasps. When he released her she saw the tears trickling down his cheeks as well. Oh my god, he’s crying. He’s actually crying real tears. "No, Sarah, that's not what I want." He stood just inches away as she folded her arms against her chest, hugging herself where his warmth had just been. “That’s not at all what I want,” he reiterated.
"Well, what do you want?" her voice echoed down the hallway, louder than she intended, more demanding.
"I feel close to you, and I don't want to lose that. You know me better than just about anybody. I can't imagine not having you in my life in some capacity," he explained, his voice soothing, drawing her back to him like he always did. She witnessed the corners of his mouth sneaking into a smirk, the trademark boyish smirk she had always been powerless against.
"So you want your cake and eat it too?" she accused him, renewing the anger he'd tried to assuage.
"Maybe?" he shot her an apologetic, boys-will-be-boys look, a lazy attempt to lighten the mood. Then he realized it wasn't going to work this time. His patience for discussing anything of an emotional nature was wearing thin.
His tone suddenly grew rigid, yielding: "Alright, fine, Sarah, I'm sorry. I thought you'd feel that our friendship was too strong and too precious to throw away." He stepped down the hall away from her, resigned. "Go ahead and leave if you want but just remember this: I never made you any promises. I never said we'd end up together."
"No," Sarah agreed, "you didn’t promise me anything, but you told me that you wouldn't decide until you got back. You said you didn't know what you want."
"I changed my mind," he said coldly. "Are you staying or are you going?"
Sarah wondered how hard he was fighting to convince himself that this was what he wanted. Was this decision being driven by the same irrational forces that had caused him to marry before his first deployment? Was this coming from fear or was it really what he wanted?
She looked at him standing there, his hand on his hip, his skin so smooth and his eyes so blue. His whiskers were beginning to shadow his jawline. She saw the outline of his chest muscles pressing into his t-shirt, the armbands of which gathered snugly against his biceps. Even in anger and despair she wanted to run her fingers down those muscles while he slid his eager cock into her soft, inviting sex.
This is my problem, she sighed. He makes me crazy. Crazy with lust. Crazy with love. Just completely, undeniably crazy. Before I met him, I thought I was a sane person.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked breathlessly, knowing that no matter what, she belonged to him. Even if he didn't want her. She still wanted to make him happy, despite everything. Despite the rejection.
He held out his arms to her. "I want you to stay," he said softly. "Please spend one more night with me."
Sarah knew the easy thing to do would be to walk away and accept defeat. The easy thing would be to block him out of her life for good and let her heart heal in his absence. The hard thing to do would be to stay, to give him her heart in whatever capacity he would accept it, to pledge her devotion to him whether it was as a friend or lover.
She was never one to take the easy way out. I want to be strong, she thought. I want to be strong for him.
For us.
***
For a while she had stood in the hallway, collapsed in his embrace, until, without words, he pulled back and smiled at her, the lightness returning to his eyes. He dragged her down the hallway to his bedroom which seemed empty now that so many of his possessions were packed up. Sarah immediately noticed a small burgundy box sitting on his nightstand and with a stabbing pain realized it was an engagement ring.
Seeing where her eyes were drawn, he went directly toward the box and moved it from the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave it out."
"Can I see it?" her voice quivered. She knew not seeing it would be worse than wondering what it looked like. The unknown is always worse than the known.
He pulled the small burgundy velvet-covered box out of the larger matching cardboard one and carefully flipped the lid open, revealing a half carat round diamond encircled by smaller stones and set in platinum.
Here's the ring that I will never wear, she thought bitterly, the realization piercing her. She gently pulled it out of its velvet nest and examined it slowly, turning it over, watching how the diamonds refracted the light. Without asking or even looking at James, she slid it onto her finger, wishing it was hers. Wishing he was hers. It fits.
"It's gorgeous," she whispered, reluctantly returning it to its case.
He placed the ring in the top drawer of his mostly empty bureau and started to strip his shirt off over his head. "What are you doing?" Sarah asked.
"I want you to come lay with me," he said. "Please?"
She considered his request, not knowing how to say no to him. "Oh, James, I don't know," she balked. "What about Maggie? I don't want to --"
He touched his hand to her lips. "She knows you're here. It's okay."
They were silent after that, their hands and speechless lips speaking the volumes of words trapped in the space between them. He pulled off Sarah's blouse, then she stripped the rest of her clothes away until she lay naked and exposed in the bed. He lowered himself onto her body so slowly, so carefully, as if she was made of glass. She felt that fragile too, as if she might crack into a million pieces at any time.
The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 31