The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

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The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 43

by Phoebe Alexander


  Abby was still trying to sell the idea to her mother. "Talking to James today...you know, he asked me how school was and how my family was. And I was just thinking that...I've never really known a grown up man. Not really. I've never had a father figure, except maybe Uncle Adam and he's not even around. And no, I don't count Daniel." The last sentence was hurled out emphatically, like a flaming dart.

  Sarah shook her head, "But see, finding your dad wouldn't solve that problem," she patted her daughter's knee again. "He won't ever be a father or even a father figure to you. He's just going to be some weird guy, a stranger. What if you meet him and you're disappointed? What if you regret it? What if the idea of him is better than the reality?" She offered her daughter more questions than answers. She liked leaving this idea hanging in sub-reality, a nebulous shadowy figure, just out of Abby’s grasp. Maybe trepidation would prevent her from pursuing it further.

  Abby was quiet, filtering her mother’s words through her gray matter. Sarah re-examined how Abby's Skype conversation with James could have possibly filled her head with all these ideas, this longing. No, Sarah decided, this has been brewing for some time and the exchange today just brought it to a head. Oh how I wish James could be that father figure for her. For Owen. She had to fight those thoughts back down even harder than the nausea.

  "I'm glad we are talking about this," Sarah said softly.

  Abby sat upright, her back straight, a picture of resolution. "I think it's a risk I have to take, Mom. Even if he turns out to be the worst man in the world. I think I have to know."

  "I respect that, honey, but I'm still not sure this is the best time. Let me think about it awhile and get back to you, okay?" In her mind though, she had decided. I'll put her off till she's 18 and then it will be her own decision. It will be out of my hands. I don’t want him to mess up everything I’ve built here, the path she’s on. She’s such a great kid...this isn’t time for a shakeup. It’s bad enough that I had to deal with Daniel wanting back in Owen’s life.

  Abby looked solemn, her eyes cast back down to her feet, locked in on the skull toe ring. She said nothing, rose, and headed for the stairs, nearly knocking over her grandmother on her way into the room.

  Once Abby was out of sight, Kathy took a seat next to her daughter. "I overheard most of that," she confessed.

  Sarah nodded, unsurprised. "Am I wrong?"

  "There's no right or wrong," Kathy replied. "But I think you need to search your heart and ask yourself why you are so protective of your kids where their fathers are concerned. I know you were absolutely livid to think of Daniel interfering in the life you've built for Owen -"

  "I've raised both of these children myself from day one!" Sarah fired back, her temper flaring. “Their fathers chose not to be involved. They can’t just waltz in here now and think they can be dads to the kids they abandoned.”

  "You have been their primary caretaker, it’s true," Kathy acknowledged. "But they are older now. They are becoming their own persons. Every day they belong more and more to the world as they become less and less yours. They are ever-so-slowly detaching. The umbilical cord can only stretch so far you know."

  Sarah wanted to put her fingers in her ears like an insolent child and sing "la la la la" at the top of her lungs to avoid hearing her mother's words. I wonder if Rachel would side with me, she wondered. She hates Daniel and although she never met Abby's father she certainly hates what he did to me.

  Sarah stood, feeling weak in her knees but striving to strengthen her resolve. "She'll be 18 in a year and a half. She can do whatever she wants then."

  ***

  “Ten years,” Maggie sighed, studying the face of her fiancé glowing from her screen. He had some darkening under his eyes and a new line or two had crept across his forehead. “I still remember what I was doing when I heard the news.”

  James had just finished telling her about the beefed up security on base for the anniversary of 9/11 and how they’d heard explosions all night long. Maggie had shuddered to think of the present and found her mind wandering back to the past.

  “I remember too,” James replied, thinking back to the day two planes brought the World Trade Center towers crashing down, changing his life forever. Changed our whole country forever, he realized. He had been on leave after returning from a deployment. He’d gone to Florida to sign the divorce papers he’d filed upon returning home from the Middle East to find that his new wife was carrying another man’s child. That day changed the whole ballgame, he thought, I was so angry that those fucking terrorists had killed innocent civilians on our soil. I was ready to go back over right then and there.

  “You know, that’s really when I decided that this was my career, you know,” he confessed to his future bride. “That very day. I wanted to do everything in my power to keep anything like that from happening ever again. And I wanted to kill those responsible.” His voice was nearly trembling with conviction.

  Maggie nodded solemnly, her gold-flecked hazel eyes wide with admiration for her fiancé’s service. But she couldn’t help remembering how she had lost touch with James by that point, their paths having diverged. “I was in college,” she searched for that far off memory. “I think I’d just met Alex at a frat party the weekend before. Or maybe that’d been in the summer. I don’t remember that part exactly. But I know he’d called to see how I was later that night. And I remember sitting on my bed in my dorm room watching the news footage of those planes hitting the Twin Towers again and again...all the faces of the people in New York, panic-stricken, and of course all the cops and firefighters and EMTs. I was already working on getting accepted into the nursing program, but I think my desire to be a nurse and to work in a profession where I’d be helping people was definitely impacted by 9/11.”

  James nodded. Her last statement eradicated the physical response he’d had to the mention of Maggie’s first husband, Alex. What an asshole, James reflected and then brushed the thought away. “I do think we both have noble professions, don’t you?”

  “Selfless,” Maggie modified his description. “Speaking of which, I need to get ready for my shift.”

  "Yeah, okay, I get it, trying to get rid of me already?" James smirked, his blue eyes sparkling.

  Maggie grinned, "Silly man, you know I'd talk to you all day if I could. And hell, you know I'd do anything to be in your arms right now!"

  "I know, baby, and it won't be too much longer: three months down, six to go. And then we'll set the date that you'll become Mrs. McAllister." He watched her bounce up and down, doing her little happy dance for him.

  "I can't wait!" Maggie's cheeks were glowing pink as she spread her lips into as wide of a grin as she was capable. She blew him a kiss and offered her standard goodbye, "Be careful, okay? I love you.” She waited for him to return the sentiments and then her screen went blank.

  James felt a little sad when he realized she'd ended the session without even offering to let him watch her change into her uniform. He was usually able to catch that show at least once or twice a week. He envisioned her bending at the waist, her slim hips wiggling into her green scrub pants while she looked straight into the webcam. Mmmm, he thought, imagining his fingers wound through her golden curls as he drew her in to cover her lips with his. He felt his erection straining against his pants. And no time to take care of that, he thought, disappointed.

  He glanced down at his watch and realized he was running late for a meeting, catching sight of the date again: September 11, 2011. Ten years, he thought, getting his files in order for the meeting, ten years and I'm still fighting.

  ***

  Rachel had waited patiently for the results of the amniocentesis before buying any baby items, which surprised Sarah since she was ordinarily so impulsive. Jack has such a calming effect on her, Sarah considered, which is a good thing. A great thing, actually, she recalculated.

  "I'm starting from scratch," she told Sarah, a glint of excitement in her eyes, "I don't have any of Thomas's baby stuff
and Jack doesn't have any of Gia's. So it doesn't matter if it’s a boy or a girl, we're going to have to get our shop on!"

  Fortuitously, Sarah didn't have classes the day of Rachel's appointment to learn the test results, so she agreed to accompany her friend to the doctor’s. Afterwards, there’d be a huge celebratory shopping spree for pink things or blue things. "Are you sure Jack doesn't want to go?" Sarah kept asking, even the night before the appointment.

  “It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it’s that he’s going to be in Chicago talking to a producer about the band's next album. He wants you to be there." She was surprisingly patient considering how many times Sarah had asked.

  "Alright, alright," Sarah had laughed, conceding. I sure hope it's good news, she thought to herself, not wanting to give the slightest hint of having entertained negative thoughts about the amnio results, not even for the briefest moment.

  The two friends sat more or less patiently in the exam room awaiting the news. Sarah entertained herself texting back and forth with Garrett, who was at school killing time between classes, while Rachel paced nervously back and forth in the tiny eight by ten feet space, her heels clicking on the gray and chartreuse tiled floor.

  "This floor is so ugly," she pronounced with disdain just as the door handle began to turn.

  Sarah laughed knowing her friend had a habit of spewing expletives or handing out harsh judgments just as someone who might be offended turned up. The doctor didn't seem to have heard though; she wheeled the lime green faux leather stool directly over to the pair of metal and upholstered chairs occupied by Sarah and Rachel in a business-like fashion. She wore an extremely serious expression that put Sarah's intuitions on high alert. A hundred different crisis scenarios suddenly ran through her mind as the middle-aged brunette with hair graying at her temples squinted at the notes in Rachel's file. Must. Be. Positive, Sarah chided herself. She shifted and crossed her legs, anxiously awaiting the news.

  "Well, Rachel, have you picked out names yet?" Dr. Wilson broke the strained silence.

  Rachel slowly shook her head, her face turning gray with trepidation. She briefly glanced to Sarah for reassurance and Sarah smiled back.

  "Oh, good," Dr. Wilson remarked, her face slowly transitioning into a grin, "cause you only need a little girl’s name! See, I just cut your work in half!"

  Rachel’s lungs audibly filled with air, resulting in a shriek nearly high enough to break glass. "Oh my god!" She turned to Sarah and threw her arms around her best friend, nearly climbing into her lap. "Oh my god, oh my god!!!" she repeated, jumping up and down.

  Dr. Wilson went on to reassure Rachel that all the test results had come back fine and they were on track for a mid-February baby. "I can't even tell you how perfect this is," Rachel cooed, her voice approximately four thousand decibels louder than a normal person’s voice. "The birthstone is amethyst, I'm having a girl, and purple is my favorite color. Should we name her Amethyst or Violet?"

  Sarah just shook her head, relieved and happily envisioning a closet full of every imaginable shade of purple: lilac, lavender, orchid, eggplant, heather. Rachel dialed Jack's cell number as they left the doctor's office. Sarah sent a text to Garrett, one to some mutual friends, plus one to Abby to announce the news. Who else am I forgetting to tell? she wondered as they climbed into her car.

  She suddenly thought of James and how only a few short months ago, she was telling him all of her day-to-day news. She would have most certainly shared something as exciting as this. She went into her email account on her phone and composed a brief message. She knew he'd be entertained by the possible name choices. Without even thinking she signed the note with two x's and two o's.

  At the baby store, it took Rachel all of three minutes to select a bedding set for her new baby's nursery. She was immediately drawn to the pattern featuring an abundance of lavender and purple plus tiny blonde and brunette fairies surrounded by sparkly fairy dust. "Look!" she exclaimed, literally running down the aisle toward the display set up in a rich, dark cherry crib. "It's a fairy Sarah and fairy Rachel!"

  Sarah laughed as Rachel hoisted it into the cart. “Don’t go too overboard today,” Sarah warned her. “Don’t forget that you’re having a baby shower!”

  “I am?” Rachel said, beaming so hard her cheeks flushed.

  “Of course!” Sarah laughed. Just after the new year, she planned in her head. That will be something nice to look forward to right after Christmas. Then it won’t be too long before Valentine’s Day and Rachel’s due date. Then it will almost be Spring...and James will be back. Her heart felt a piercing at the thought of him. Why can’t I do a damn thing without him coming up? It’s been three months for fuck’s sake, Sarah reflected. What is my problem?

  Those thoughts subsided as they trudged their way up and down the rest of the aisles. “I can’t believe the ridiculous number of new products that have been invented since I had Abby and Owen,” Sarah observed.

  Rachel laughed, “Tell me about it. People are waiting longer to have kids so they have more income. They can buy lots of useless shit. Baby companies are making a killing!”

  Sarah nodded. “Hey, I forgot to tell you that Abby mentioned finding Matt again the other day.”

  Rachel stopped the cart in the middle of the aisle. “Again? Sarah, you’re gonna have to just let her do her thing.”

  “What?” Sarah was taken aback. If there was one person I expected to see this from my vantage, it’s Rachel, Sarah thought with dismay. “I can’t believe you said that! What if Thomas started asking a lot of questions about The Sperm Donor?” They never used Rachel’s ex-husband’s real name. He was forever referred to as The Sperm Donor, or TSD for short in texts and emails.

  “That’s different,” Rachel explained, understanding immediately that Sarah’s raised eyebrow signaled a need for elaboration. “First off, Thomas is eleven and Abby is sixteen. There’s a big difference in age. Secondly, Thomas did know his father, and his father knew him. He made the conscious choice not to be involved in his son’s life when we moved out here. Matt never even got the chance to know his daughter. Plus he was only 22 when she was born. He didn’t know what the fuck fatherhood was about.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’d willingly let Thomas see his father,” she reiterated.

  “It’s a totally different situation. I am still not a fan of Daniel waltzing back in and trying to sweep Owen off his feet,” she argued. “Speaking of which, did you decide what to do about Christmas?”

  Sarah shook her head, feeling a tear stinging at the corner of her eye. She’d never spent a Christmas without both of her children. She could scarcely imagine not seeing Owen run down the stairs like a cheetah toward the Christmas tree with glee on Christmas morning. Maybe I’m just being selfish, Sarah considered, that my reticence to let the children know or see their fathers is mostly because I don’t want to be alone.

  “What is her father up to these days, anyway?” Rachel asked. “Didn’t you say you tracked him down on Facebook?”

  “Yes,” Sarah nodded. “Looks like he’s happily married with two little girls.” Why is it that both of my exes are happily married and I’m not? she wondered. And James is soon to be. Just the thought of his impending nuptials was enough to make her stomach churn. But then she remembered: The question of whether or not his marriage will be happy remains to be seen. “I didn’t send Matt a friend request though; I didn’t want to dredge up everything from the past. Maybe I should though and give him a heads up that our daughter may be in contact?”

  “Maybe. Does Abby even know his last name?” Rachel questioned.

  “Not that I know of. She’s never asked and it’s not on her birth certificate,” Sarah said, brightening. I guess that means she isn’t going to be able to track him down unless she asks me his full name. Sarah couldn’t think of any other documentation or records that she’d be able to access that would give her that information.

  “Well, then,” Rachel s
ummed it up, “I guess you’re in the driver’s seat.”

  “I like being in the driver’s seat,” Sarah laughed in agreement.

  ***

  His eyes bore into her...deep, intense, brooding, the green of the darkest, most isolated jungle. There was a danger there, an unpredictability. He had her pushed to the very edge of her limits, bound to the bed, both wrists and ankles, her nipples clamped, her mouth gagged. And he hovered above his captive prey like a tiger ready to pounce. Out for blood.

  She laid still, waiting for the impact, the penetration, feeling his pulsating hardness pressing into the soft flesh of her thigh, which he had stretched and spread to its limits, her wanting slit of womanhood burning with desire beneath him. She was quivering but silent even from the moans her gag would permit her to make, her dark eyes speaking volumes about her need.

  But suddenly the intensity faded from his eyes and a playful grin appeared in its place, turning the corners of his lips up as he studied her. He felt the frustration radiating from her body, the pleading in her eyes.

  His expression changed again. Concern, she read. Empathy. He lifted the gag from her mouth and quickly undid the restraints at her wrists and ankles as if he was rescuing her from an oncoming train. "Garrett?" she questioned once she regained the capacity to produce speech.

  He took her into his arms and held her head to his chest as if she were a wounded animal, as if the touch would heal her affliction. What is he doing? Why did he stop? He answered neither her spoken nor unspoken questions, but rocked her back and forth gently, his breath falling softly in her hair.

  Finally she pulled away. "What's going on?" she whispered.

  He looked serene. Wise. "You needed me to stop. I saw it in your eyes. Something was gripping you, keeping you from fully submitting. Your mind is somewhere else tonight."

 

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