The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

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The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 32

by Phoebe Alexander


  I've never had goodbye sex before, she reflected. And that’s what this is, right? I’ve never made love to someone knowing full well it would be the last time.

  She couldn't find the words to protest; her body was already feverishly yearning for him, craving his touch, clinging to his kisses. Her hips arched toward him as his cock brushed against her swollen labia, so ready, blossoming open to receive him. He slid inside her like a hand into a glove, a perfect fit, so familiar and right that she ached knowing it would be the final time she felt her sex yield to him. She wanted to bottle the sensation of being filled by him, to open it up and experience it anytime she wanted. She imagined the first time she uncorked the bottle, the memory would be as strong as if the real thing, but over time it would slowly diminish like the final lingering notes of a fading perfume.

  His strokes inside her were slow, steady, and deep; their bodies rising and falling in unison to a supernatural beat. How could we have done this a hundred times and yet it has never gotten old? How can he say he can go on without me, without this? Doesn’t he realize this is a one in a million connection?

  She felt the building pressure of the physical sensations plus an avalanche of emotions suspended behind the wall of her orgasm. When the floodgates opened, both would be released. It was all going to explode and thunder, rushing around them like a hurricane.

  Minutes later, she burst forth in every sense imaginable, from her eyes and her sex and every pore of her body, a cathartic baptism, redeeming her wounded soul. Her body shuddered so violently against him, his own release, which came on the heels of hers, was like a drop of water in a vast sea. She was the moon and he was the tide.

  In the aftermath, they lay quietly quaking and crying together.

  ***

  The next morning, James whispered goodbye and placed a single, sweet kiss on Sarah’s cheek. She turned over to meet his eyes in the early breaking light of dawn, just lucid enough to murmur "I love you."

  When she fully awoke an hour later, the ring was gone, all of the bags that lined the hallway were gone, and James was gone. She understood why he’d left when she was half asleep. It was easier for him. Despite everything, she knew he cared. And she knew he was hurting too.

  Alone in his house, she walked from room to room saying goodbye, weeping. She picked up a camouflage army jacket that laid, discarded and crumpled, on the floor of his closet. She smoothed out the thick canvas-like material, running her fingers over the name McAllister on the band above the pocket. She put it on and looked in the mirror, almost feeling his warmth around her, a tear rolling down her cheek. Still wearing the jacket, she locked the front door to his house on her way out.

  She forced her feet toward her car, feeling empty and hollow inside. He had taken part of her with him and she could never get it back. Isn’t this what I wanted? Didn’t I push it all to this eventuality? I could have walked away so many times unscathed, but I refused. I knew the outcome, yet I stayed to watch it all come crashing down around me.

  The mountain she'd wanted so desperately to climb lay in rocky rubble at her feet.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hope in the Mountains

  Packing for Colorado afforded Sarah a much-needed opportunity to distract herself from James’s departure, although it still seemed surreal. The first morning after he left, she had woken up thinking it was just a dream, another one of her crazy mountain dream. But this time the mountain metaphor was a big painful wall of denial that had come tumbling down on top of her. By the second day, she finally accepted that it wasn’t a nightmare. Once she finally confessed to Rachel what had happened the night they said goodbye, her friend had hardly left her side, making Sarah feel as though she were on suicide watch.

  Folding her clothes into the suitcase she was haunted by the déjà vu of packing for Colorado just a few months before, after she'd left James. Only this time she knew he wasn't going to pop up unexpectedly at her hotel. He'd be leaving for Afghanistan at the same time she was leaving for the wedding. How can I even go back to that place now? she wondered. Where am I going to find the strength?

  For better or worse, there was no time to wallow in self-pity as mothers weren’t allowed that luxury. People were depending on her, plus it was hard to mourn when Owen and even Abby were so excited about the trip. They hadn't traveled as a family for quite some time. Sarah's mother was coming along too, and they were trying to talk her brother Adam into flying in for the weekend as well. It was going to be a regular family reunion with Aunt Sally driving over from Breckenridge and of course their meeting with Daniel.

  Sarah had displaced some of her sadness and regret about James with anger toward Daniel. But no matter how much resentment she tried to muster, she kept looking at Owen's face as he glowed with excitement at the prospect of reuniting with his father and meeting his stepmother and brother. He should be getting a stepfather and a new baby sibling from my womb, Sarah thought coldly, selfishly the afternoon they went to pick out a gift for Owen to give his brother.

  The flight was long and turbulent. The music and book Sarah brought to occupy her mind had failed miserably. Sleep had eluded her too. She was weak, dehydrated and exhausted, just like the last time she'd taken a westward journey. She felt her skin crawling with self-loathing. I'm being a selfish bitch, she thought, now directing her anger inward. I need to buck up and get through this, for Rachel, and for Owen and Abby. They don't deserve to put up with my miserable, depressing attitude.

  Kathy Lynde reached across the aisle from her seat next to Abby and squeezed her daughter's hand tenderly, as if she knew exactly where Sarah's mind was and how much she was struggling. Sarah forced a smile of gratitude in her mother's direction and remembered the advice the older woman had given her about enjoying every golden moment she had with James. She thought about rock climbing and their dinners out, winter hikes, movie nights and the wild ponies at Assateague, making love in a windswept marsh. I did, didn't I? I did cherish every single wonderful moment. And I will always have those memories.

  But she couldn’t help but think of the memories James was building with Maggie. What was the expression on her face when he knelt on one knee and opened that burgundy ring box? Was she surprised or had she known it was coming? Did she pick out the ring? Was she looking at bridal magazines? Did she have a dream wedding planned? What did James’ parents say? Would they have liked me better? Her mind was driving her crazy, constantly churning with questions she’d never get answers to.

  Long flights mean too much time to think, Sarah complained. She conjured up an image of James, her mind dissecting his features: his striking eyes, his chiseled pecs, his delicious arms. Sometimes I wonder if my real problem is just being too damned attracted to him. There has to be more though, right?

  Her mind was playing tricks. What if the reason he can’t envision himself with me is that I’m too old, or I’m too fat, or I’m not pretty enough? She shook her head as if that would rid her of her insecurities. She imagined Maggie as some sort of Barbie doll. Young, fit, pretty, smart, able to bear children....why wouldn’t he choose her over me?

  There was mass chaos at the airport in Denver. Her mother’s bag was missing, Owen had just lost a tooth, Rachel was calling, and Abby needed to use the bathroom, but the only one they’d stumbled upon was closed for cleaning. “First world problems,” Sarah laughed, relieved to be on the ground, trying to be positive and keep her brood in good spirits.

  “My bladder is not a first world problem,” Abby argued, heading down another hallway toward a different terminal.

  “Text us to find out where we are,” Sarah yelled after her. She left her mother at the airline’s customer service counter and dragged Owen down to the rental car counter. She returned Rachel’s call while she waited to be helped.

  “Did you guys make it?” She sounded breathless and excited, her voice high-pitched and tremulous.

  “Yes, getting the rental car now,” Sarah replied. “D
o I need to pick up anything for tonight?”

  “Can you get me something for my stomach? I’ve been feeling queasy all day,” she complained. “What’s good for that?”

  “Ginger,” Sarah replied. “I’m sure it’s just pre-wedding jitters. I’ll get some tea. Anything else?”

  “Nope! I can’t wait to see you and go out tonight!” Sarah had nearly forgotten that she was taking the girls out on the town as sort of a makeshift bachelorette party. Rachel had really wanted to go to a swing club, but Sarah had dismissed that idea as some of their friends in the area were much too conservative for that.

  “I’m sure you’ll still have plenty of opportunities for flirting and showing off,” Sarah had promised. She knew Rachel was trying to compete with the standard Jack had set at his party the weekend before. They’d gone back to the club in DC and apparently had a pretty wild time. Sarah had not felt up to attending.

  Everyone converged and piled into the rental car, all the confusion finally cleared up. Owen’s tooth had stopped bleeding, Abby’s bladder had been relieved, and Kathy’s bag would be delivered to her by midnight. Not ideal, but if that’s the worst thing that happens, we’ll be fine, Sarah considered. Then her mind snapped and realized she hadn’t thought about James for approximately 45 minutes. It’s progress, she thought with relief.

  She tried not to think too much about the last time she’d driven from Denver to the Springs, keeping her mind occupied with telling her mother and Abby about their plans for the night. Owen naturally wanted to know why brides and grooms had bachelor and bachelorette parties, which Sarah tried to explain as delicately as possible. Then the entire car sang along to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” as their trusty rental car flew down the highway under Sarah’s lead foot.

  Rachel’s complexion looked a little off when they first arrived, pale and sallow, but she brightened as soon as she saw everyone unpile from the car. She distributed hugs all around. “My mother is driving me nuts already,” she whined.

  Sarah shot her an empathetic look, but secretly felt very relieved that her own mother was as amazing as mothers come. Mrs. Brock was an even tinier version of her daughter and twice as brazen and outspoken, as impossible as that seemed. She had a reputation for raising hell until she got her way, so much so that people generally acquiesced before her fury could be unleashed. Sarah always had the impression that Mrs. Brock was not particularly fond of her, and that she blamed her for convincing her daughter to leave Thomas’s father around the same time Sarah was getting divorced. She was sure Mrs. Brock thought it was more an act of peer pressure than solidarity or pursuit of happiness.

  Owen and Abby went off to the den where Owen would be camping out on the floor with Thomas. Abby was going to take the small guest room off the den that shared a hall bath. She was already rolling her eyes at the prospect of being in such close proximity to the two pre-adolescent boys, but Sarah cast her a look that was widely known in their family as the “warning shot.” It meant she had actually two minutes to get her act together or suffer the consequences.

  Sarah helped her mother get settled into their room which had been Rachel’s older sister’s once upon a time. It is still very...lavender, Sarah mused, setting down her bag and asking her mother if she needed anything. Kathy smiled and waved her daughter off, explaining that she wanted to rest for a bit.

  Rachel practically pulled Sarah’s arm out of the socket dragging her into her bedroom. Her wedding gown hung from a plant hook in the ceiling and looked shimmery and white like an apparition in the light furrowing through the half-open blinds. Suddenly, Rachel clutched her abdomen and excused herself to the adjoining bath where Sarah heard her expel the contents of her stomach. Ugh, Sarah thought, I hope it’s not a stomach virus. Shit, I forgot the ginger tea! Damn!

  Rachel returned several moments later and took a seat on the bed. “I don’t know what my problem is,” she sighed. “Maybe it was the eggs at breakfast?”

  A moment of realization smacked Sarah across the cheek as she peered into her best friend’s hazel eyes. She’s pregnant, Sarah thought. Oh. My. God. She didn’t know how she could be so sure, but she was.

  Rachel started to say something about Jack staying at a hotel clear on the other side of town, but Sarah’s expression had changed so much that she stopped to ask what was wrong. Sarah’s eyes were wide as she patted Rachel on the knee and decreed her prophesy: “You’re pregnant.”

  She watched the rest of the color drain from Rachel’s face. “Oh...fuck!” was all she could manage. Sarah could tell she was mentally calculating dates, reviewing a calendar in her mind. “I got so caught up in the wedding stuff, I forgot I didn’t start my period last week.”

  “Most brides are obsessive to keep track of that shit,” Sarah laughed. “You know, to avoid having their periods on their wedding nights.”

  “Yeah, yeah, well, that has never been a big deal for us,” she explained. “Oh my god, Sarah, what am I going to do?”

  “I’m going to go get you a test. And that ginger tea since I forgot it. And you are going to have to reconsider your plans to drink tonight.”

  She left Rachel sitting on the bed in shock, a look of startled but happy wonderment spread across her face.

  ***

  Rachel closed the bathroom door, test in hand, and Sarah waited quietly on the bed for the verdict. She doesn't even have to take the test, she thought, I have no doubts. Further bolstering her confidence was the conversation she’d had with her mother when she was leaving for the drug store. She’d told her that she needed to get Rachel some ginger tea for her upset stomach. "Oh, morning sickness already?" Kathy had asked with a sage smile.

  "Wow, you noticed too?" Sarah had asked, not knowing why she was surprised. After all, she had inherited her uncanny ability to read people from her mother, even though she’d further honed her gift by studying human behavior for over fifteen years.

  "It's written all over her face," Kathy replied. "I take it Jack doesn't know yet?"

  Sarah suddenly flashed back to a visit to Rachel's hospital room after she'd delivered Thomas. Sarah had been only a few days away from her due date with Owen and they'd discussed the merits of tubal ligation. Having her second child, Sarah was confident she should put childbearing behind her. Having her first child, Rachel wanted to leave that door open. What if I hadn't shut that door? Sarah wondered. Would James have seen things differently?

  She heard the door handle turn and Rachel emerged waving the test stick in the air. She was speechless. It took nothing short of a miracle to render Rachel Brock speechless. "So I was right?" Sarah grinned, opening her arms to her best friend for an embrace.

  The tears finally broke the dam and Rachel collapsed into her friend’s arms sobbing and laughing and talking all at once, "I got my IUD taken out in May. They said it would take months! Oh my god, I can't believe this! Jack is going to die!"

  Her wheels were turning now as she began to realize how her life was going to change. "Gia and Thomas will be so excited!" And then: "Oh, fuck, I don't want to tell my mother."

  Sarah laughed, "One thing at a time, honey. Just concentrate on telling Jack for now," she advised. “You have a wedding to get through!"

  Rachel threw her arms around Sarah, squeezing her with all her might, then looking at the test again. Sarah glanced down at the two parallel blue lines, thick and dark and unmistakably positive. She was fighting that ugly side of her, that dark, slimy green envy that was threatening to choke her.

  She wanted to have nothing but supportive and congratulatory wishes for her best friend, but she couldn't help but wonder why it wasn't her about to walk down the aisle, her about to bear the child of the man she loved. Despite her efforts to conceal and submerge those nasty thoughts deep within her subconscious, Rachel's perception easily penetrated that façade. "Are you alright?"

  Sarah nodded, biting her lower lip to keep the tears at bay. "I am really happy for you, sweetie!" She smiled, still somewhat u
nconvincingly.

  "I know you're happy for me, but you're also human," Rachel said. “You would have to be a robot not to be struggling right now. Please, just be honest with me. I’m worried about you.”

  Sarah grabbed a tissue from the vanity near the window. She blew her nose, flushing those threatening tears out her sinuses. "You're right," she admitted. "I don't know why I think I always have to be in control, always perfect and altruistic. I guess, studying human behavior for a living, I must think I'm somehow above it all."

  Rachel nodded in sympathy. "Have you heard from him yet?"

  Sarah shook her head, "I don't expect to hear from him for a while, if ever, to tell you the truth.” After all, he wasn’t a great communicator when we were together; I doubt us being thousands of miles apart is going to improve anything.

  Rachel looked surprised. "Oh, he will be in touch," she promised. "I know he cares about you a great deal. You can tell by the way he looks at you.”

  "I think what it is," Sarah theorized, "is he's conflicted." She straightened up on the bed, transforming into her professorial alter ego. "On the one hand, he thinks he's this straight-laced, traditional military guy who wants the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids and the pretty wife who stays at home."

  Rachel reconciled that with what she knew of James and Maggie. "Sure, that makes sense."

  "But," Sarah continued, "I opened this whole new world to him that he didn't even know existed, you know: total liberation along with an unconventional lifestyle. I made him look into his heart and mind and challenge all his notions of tradition. But he still doesn't know if that is really him, if he can give up the ideals that have been drilled into him since he was a young boy.”

 

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