The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by Phoebe Alexander

  Oh great, he’s drunk, that will make this oh so much better, Sarah rolled her eyes. He didn’t even budge when she entered the room. His eyes were glazed over, absent, half-closed.

  “I’m so sorry to intrude,” she said sharply, “but I just got your message, Natalie, and to answer, no, NO Garrett didn’t talk to me. So I’m hoping I can get the details from you...seeing as he’s passed out over there and all.” Despite her preparation during the drive, she couldn’t help but interject a fraction of the anger brewing in her veins into her tone.

  Natalie shook her head as her face began to redden, “He fucking lied to me. He told me you both went and got blood drawn today.”

  Sarah’s anger had nowhere else to go; it was a volcano about to rain down fire on everything in the vicinity. “What the hell is going on?”

  Natalie backed away, intimidated by the intense heat flaring from Sarah’s deep brown eyes. She was trembling with fear as she began the story. “I have another partner besides Garrett, a boyfriend of sorts, and he just went and got a whole STD battery because his ex informed him that she has Herpes. And guess what, he has it too.”

  Sarah sighed as everything gradually began to coalesce, the gravity of the situation finally soaking in. She felt like a fool. How many years have I been doing this and I’ve never had this crop up? I’ve always gotten tested annually, twice a year if I was really active, and I’ve never had one moment of anxiety. I always played safe, built trust in partners, did everything in my power to prevent this. The worst mistake I’d made was with James last year, not asking him about his history and activities before failing to use a condom. Shit. I’m a fucking idiot.

  She stood frozen in the middle of Garrett’s living room, her mind still reeling from consternation. “How long ago was he exposed?” Sarah asked, trying to find her mature, adult voice, the one she used for working out issues with students or other faculty members when there was a disagreement over grades or scheduling or curricular changes.

  “I’m not sure, but my boyfriend and I have been together for three months,” Natalie answered. Sarah knew that Garrett had been seeing her for well over six months.

  “And you don’t use condoms with either Garrett or your boyfriend?” Sarah asked and to answer Natalie shook her head.

  Then Sarah revealed: “He told me you do.”

  Natalie’s face went from I’ve-been-crying-all-night-red to pale in a second. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Garrett was starting to snore in the armchair, his legs splayed out and his arms dangling off the edges of the seat. “Fucking asshole,” Natalie spewed in his general direction.

  “You got that right,” Sarah agreed. And with that, she turned and exited Garrett’s apartment, knowing she’d never darken his doorway again.

  ***

  Sarah felt the rubber band cinch around her upper arm while her forearm began to turn violet and numb. The phlebotomist expertly pierced her pale skin with a sharp, silver needle and soon dark crimson blood was flowing through the tiny tube into the attached vial. Sarah had a passing thought about Maggie being a nurse and how ironic it would have been for Maggie to be the one drawing her blood. Then she suddenly grew nauseated at the realization she was going to have to tell Liam what had happened. Thank the gods we used condoms, she thought, and that I haven’t had any other partners since Pawel, but that was way before the exposure.

  Rachel had given Sarah only three words of advice when she called to fill her in on the news earlier in the day: “Dump his ass.”

  Sarah had wholeheartedly agreed. He’d already been given his one chance at redemption, and he didn’t even make it six months before being caught in another lie. Sarah reflected back to that first time they’d spoken in the library cafe. I always knew he seemed too good to be true. That damn red hair, she chastised herself. I should have known I was playing with fire.

  The nurse smiled as she held pressure to Sarah’s vein with a cotton ball, then quickly replaced it with a bandage. “Your doctor will call with the results in a few days,” she promised.

  “Thanks,” Sarah said as she gathered up her purse, keys and phone and exited the lab. Her phone was buzzing as she headed to the parking lot. She fumbled the phone trying to get it up to her ear.

  “Hey, it’s James, are you in your office today?” His voice sounded a little hyped up and intense.

  “I had to run out for an errand, but I’m headed back there now,” Sarah answered. “Why?”

  “Can you meet for coffee?” James asked. “Maybe in like 30 minutes? I’m nearby.”

  She looked down at her watch. Gosh, seeing him twice in one week, she thought, it’s almost like we’re dating. She laughed off that idea as butterflies began to dance throughout her stomach in the same place that nausea had gurgled up just moments before. “Uh, sure, that’s fine,” she agreed, still reeling from the surprise of his invitation and the slight air of urgency in his voice.

  “Thanks, see you soon,” he replied and hung up.

  Sarah walked into Java the Hut a half hour later and found him already seated near the windows at the same table they’d shared during their previous meeting. He was studying something on his phone as she made her way across the cafe. She took a seat before he looked up. He seemed distracted and disengaged with dark purple circles hanging under his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, knowing already that the answer was no. The death of the soldier in his unit was still weighing on him; she could see it written on his face. He tried to force a smile when his eyes met hers, and he pushed the mug of coffee he’d already bought for her toward her. He remembers how I take my coffee, she noted.

  “The funeral is tomorrow. I don’t know how I am going to face his family,” he said in a low voice. How do you tell a mother that if you’d just spoken up, her son may still be alive? he thought, his disgust with himself pumping through his veins.

  “You’re going?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, he is from the area. Actually he’s from Pennsylvania, but it’s just over the Maryland line so I’m going to drive up there. I feel like I should,” he replied. He rubbed his hand down his face and across his eye leaving a trail of color in its wake.

  I’ve never seen him look this bad, Sarah thought. He was so clean cut and military-like when we met a couple of weeks ago and now he is unshaven and disheveled. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  He took a sip of his coffee and rested his arms on the table in front of him. She placed her hand on top of his and let the warmth of her skin radiate through his pores, wishing more than anything that she could ease his pain. “I understand,” she said. “Going may give you some closure.”

  I have to tell someone, he realized. I can’t keep going on pretending... “Sarah, I couldn’t admit this to anyone else...” His voice trailed off as if he still wasn’t sure he could.

  “I knew he had a problem. He told me when we were over there. He told me that his wife had left him, and he didn’t know if he could go on. I tried to talk to him, tell him that things would get better. I told him what happened to me after my first deployment. I reached out to him and I thought he was better. I really did.” He was rubbing his face again as if he could rub the guilt out of his system. “Then we lost those guys in the attack; one was his buddy. He was devastated.”

  Sarah was still gripping his hand as he spoke. His eyes were dry and it seemed he had reached the anger stage, all the anger directed inward. “Okay,” Sarah said calmly. “So what do you think you should have done?”

  “I should have told the psychologist who evaluated him. I don’t think he told her any of this,” James said. “I’m sure she could have gotten him the help he needed.” Finally, someone will understand why I feel responsible, he thought, and just that realization offered a tiny amount of relief.

  “Alright,” Sarah replied. I need to be objective. I can’t bullshit him, she realized. “Okay, so you’re right, you shoul
d have said something.”

  His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe that condemnation had just come from Sarah’s mouth. He had been waiting all this time for someone to confirm his liability but no was willing. But then again, no one had heard the truth, he thought. I was too ashamed to admit it...except to Sarah. I don’t know anyone more accepting and understanding than her. No one. And no one would be more honest with me than her.

  “You should have said something,” Sarah continued, “but it may not have helped. He may have still gone through with it. PTSD is deep and multifaceted,” she explained, “and hard to treat. He had experienced quite a bit of loss...and probably had survivor guilt. Even if the psychologist had known, it doesn’t mean she would have been able to save him either.”

  “I know,” James nodded. That doesn’t make me feel any better, he silently added. “But I was the CO. I was the leader.”

  “I understand, but I want you to think about something, okay?” she asked him, her dark eyes reflecting the light from the windows. “You can’t go back and change what happened. You have to accept it and your possible role. You have to forgive yourself. But most of all, you need to figure out how you can use this; how you can learn from it to be a better leader,” she advised him.

  He nodded and drained the rest of the coffee from his mug down his throat. “I needed to hear that.” He set the mug down on the table loud enough to make a clinking sound against the wood. His expression was fixed, his eyes locked onto her as if he’d let them take over expressing what his mouth could not.

  “It doesn’t make you a bad person,” Sarah assured him. “You’re human. You go to the funeral, you look his parents in the eye and tell them that you’re sorry. Eventually you will grow from this and it’s going to make you a better leader, a better person, a better friend, husband and father someday.”

  At that a tear slid down his cheek. He reddened and flicked it away, embarrassed. “Okay,” he choked out. I really want to hold her, he thought. I want to feel her pressed against me, kiss the top of her head and tell her how much she means to me. He pushed away that thought and changed the subject.

  Later he walked Sarah to her car at the far end of the mostly empty parking lot. She flashed back to their first date at Java the Hut when they’d stood beside her car talking long after she said she needed to leave. He was standing so close to her, she could feel his energy brushing up against her. A few times she wondered if he was really touching her or if it was only her wistful imagination.

  She wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but she felt like she couldn’t touch him. He has to touch me first, she thought. Would I stop him if he did? she suddenly wondered.

  As if he read her mind, she felt his arms encircle her waist and draw her body into his embrace. Her cheek rested against his collarbone, and she could have sworn she felt his heart beating through his clothes. She didn’t back away. Friends can hug, she rationalized. Hugging is okay. She felt his pull like a magnet aimed directly at her heart. She wanted to stroke her hands up and down his back and feel that delicious spot where his muscles were separated by his spine.

  Before her imagination could sweep her farther away, he lifted her chin toward his face with two fingers, locking his red-streaked, sleep-deprived eyes onto her. She felt the chasm between them diminishing and suddenly, with bolts of electricity shooting through her nerves, his lips were brushing against hers.

  It was the softest, sweetest kiss, like an angel’s breath falling against her skin. His grip around her waist tightened as she felt his mouth part and his tongue delve in between her lips. Oh my god, this is really happening, the voice inside her head cried out. And I’m doing nothing to stop it.

  She tastes just like I remember, he thought, pulling her closer so that she was squeezed against him with no space between their bodies from their shoulders to their thighs. His lips tangled with hers with gentle nibbling and flicks of their tongues together. I want her so bad. It’s a good thing we are in public because otherwise...I’m not sure I could control myself.

  She was the one who broke away, but she said nothing at first. Her face was a mixture of thrill, ambivalence and trepidation, underscored by her racing heartbeat. “Will I see you next week at my show?” she finally managed.

  “Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “Thank you for today. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” And with that, he turned and walked to his car, unable to glance back.

  ***

  Garrett avoided making eye contact with Sarah throughout the entire rehearsal. One week till opening night and I have to deal with this, she thought with disdain. Fortunately they were working on Act II which had virtually no interaction between their characters. Liam had already asked Sarah what was wrong, sensing there was tension between her and Garrett, but she brushed it off. “I’ll be fine,” she’d replied curtly. He had backed away and kept his hands to himself, except on stage where she was his lover.

  After Xavier went through his rehearsal notes - throughout which he’d been highly critical of Garrett’s performance - he dismissed the cast. “Nav, I want to see you for a moment,” he called out as everyone began to disperse. Sarah said goodbye to Liam and took a seat at the back of the theater. I’m not leaving without talking to him, she decided.

  She watched Garrett and the director interact. His face was downcast as he humbly accepted Xavier’s direction, which was out of character for him. He was often argumentative and defensive when anyone, but particularly directors, tried to give him acting advice. Their chat ended with Xavier affectionately patting him on the shoulder and then turning the action into a friendly hug. Garrett proceeded up the aisle to leave the building but stopped just before the door at the sound of Sarah’s voice, “So you’re just going to leave? You’re not going to talk to me?”

  He whipped around. “I didn’t know you were still here,” he retorted. He was standing cock-eyed with all of his weight on one foot, as if it was really putting him out for her to interfere with his exit.

  “I’m going to walk you to your car,” she said plainly, devoid of inflection. He said nothing but continued through the double doors at the back of the house. She followed a few paces behind.

  The June evening was heavy with humidity, the kind of night where the air feels so saturated that beads of sweat are forced to the surface of one’s skin immediately. Sarah felt her lungs expanding and contracting, attempting to mitigate the effects of the thick air on her breathing. In a few moments they arrived at his car. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked him as he unlocked the door and threw his bag into the backseat.

  He simply shook his head and shrugged. Not good enough, she thought, feeling the fury from the previous night resurging. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” she said between her clenched teeth.

  “I was going to get tested first,” he explained. “And if I came out clean I wasn’t going to say anything. There was no point in needlessly worrying you.”

  “Have you gotten tested?” she asked, her eyes drilling into him.

  “No, not yet. I will tomorrow.”

  “You know what?” she seethed. “That’s not even the issue. I mean it is, but it’s only part of it. The real betrayal here is that you were supposed to be using condoms with other partners. That was our agreement.”

  “Sarah, I’m sorry,” he said, hearing the disappointment in her voice ring through his head. He slumped his shoulders and began to sob, falling toward her as if she would catch him in her arms. Like I did with James in my office the other day, she realized. But she stepped back and he was forced to catch himself and regain his balance.

  “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” Sarah said. “I’m done.”

  He bolted to attention as if pulled by a string from his head, like he had never expected to lose her over this. “What do you mean? We’ll both get tested. I’ll start using condoms with Natalie. Or with you. Or both. Things will be okay.”


  Sarah shook her head. “No. Absolutely not,” she said adamantly. “Are you crazy? I have two children. I’m not going to jeopardize my health by fucking around with a selfish, immature asshole who can’t be trusted.” She was firing bullets from her eyes at him by now.

  He reached for her hand. “But I love you, Sarah.” His voice was strained from rehearsal and the words tumbled out high-pitched and tinny into the thick, wet air. He let her hand go and it fell to her side where it immediately moved onto her hip along with the other one.

  “The only person you love is yourself, Garrett. You are far too selfish and far too immature for this lifestyle.“ She watched his eyes narrow at the truth of her words.

  Then she remembered what else she planned to say: “And do you know what you’re going to do? You’re going to tell Liam what happened so he can get tested too.”

  Garrett exhaled, his shoulders dropping again. “What about the show?”

  “Fuck the show,” Sarah shot back. “We’re going to get through the show as professionals, that’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up there and be Freddie and sing your heart out and do your thing and I’m going to do mine. And then we’re going to go our separate ways.”

  “Wow,” was all he could manage, as if he had never thought Sarah capable of spewing this bitter venom. I know I seem like the kindest, most reasonable woman on the planet, she thought watching the confusion spread across his face. But hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

  Garrett spoke no more words. He simply nodded and got into his car. Sarah watched him drive away, staring until the tail lights of his car became tiny shining rubies against the dark night.

  Walking back to her car, the lyrics from the song she’d poured out from her heart on stage earlier that night floated into her head.