"Are you even listening to yourself?" she finally broke her silence. "Supposed to be doing? What the hell does that mean?"
"I want to marry Maggie," he said, his tone growing colder, more decisive. "I want a family. I want a normal, happy life."
She scoffed at the word “normal.” I hate that word. The whole idea of sociology is to study human behavior and determine what’s normal and what’s abnormal. And here I am hating the N word. She shook off that thought and volleyed a retort: "Because that's what YOU, James McAllister wants? Or because that's what you think you're supposed to want?"
He was silent for a minute, a resolve building behind his blue eyes, his pupils expanding. "It's what I want," he replied with a sense of certainty and finality that surprised him.
"You have PTSD, James," she pronounced, reflecting back on that word “normal.” "You really need to get some treatment before you make any final decisions."
The heartbreak he had felt earlier for having to tell her it was over had given way to frustration. "I don't have PTSD. I'm fine. I just wanted to be absolutely certain, and now that I know, I'm going to remove any obstacles that might deter me," he said defensively.
She felt a hot rage surge through her. "So I'm just an obstacle? Something to be overcome?" She leapt from her seat and tried to shake off some of the anger as she headed toward the french doors.
From five feet away, she whipped around to face him again. "You know, James, the other night you stood outside the theater and told me that you still loved me. If that were true, then you're making a mistake. On the other hand, if you were just thinking with your dick last night and you don't really love me, then yeah, you should marry Maggie and stay the hell away from me." Her voice was hung with icicles, sharp and treacherous, like silver swords dripping off her consonants.
Wow, where is this coming from? James wondered. I've never seen her act this cold and harsh. I thought she was the kindest, most accepting person I knew. What the hell happened? It's like she's someone else. "Okay, fine," he said, rising to his feet. "I'm sorry it has to be like this, Sarah."
"Me too," she echoed back as she watched him turn to leave. Their last words were left to dissolve in the thick, summer night air.
***
Sarah remained on her sofa after James left. She didn't walk him out, just sat like a statue in stony silence. She thought back to when she first met him, how she had tried to step back and keep things light and friendly, how she'd envisioned their relationship as a friends with benefits arrangement. When she couldn't deny the connection she felt with him she began to think she may be ready for a relationship. He had magically eradicated her pragmatism with his charm, wit and those amazingly strong arms wrapped around her.
After steeling her heart for so many years to avoid feeling the type of pain that Daniel and Matt had inflicted, she thought she was finally ready to take a risk again. Then she realized she had no choice but to give her heart; by that time he already held it in his hands. And she reveled in that high, a high that only comes from loving and being loved.
During the days following their deployment goodbye she had convinced herself that all the emotional upheaval and pain she’d suffered was worth it, that she'd gained an immeasurable amount of joy and growth from the experience. She had taken the risk; she’d asked for it. She’d accepted the chance of being wounded.
When she stood on the mountain watching her best friend exchange wedding vows with the man she loved, she was filled with a sense of hope that true love would prevail in the end. She felt like she should never give up on James. And I didn’t, she realized. In the back of my mind I always held on to a piece of him, with the hope he would someday recognize what we have.
Here I was for the last couple weeks, flying like a kite on this high. It was finally happening. I was about to cash in on the love lottery...only to have everything fall apart around me again. And yet I still don't trust that this is over, she thought.
He's so conflicted. He's got so many issues that he's unwilling to address. He won't explore the reasons he thinks he must conform to arbitrary societal conventions when his heart is so clearly torn. He won't admit that the losses he experienced in Afghanistan and upon his return have deeply impacted him.
He needs so much...and maybe that's why I love him. I want to help him. I want to teach him. But I can't. I can't do this anymore. I'm slowly self-destructing. I've got to go to Poland and give myself a real chance at healing.
***
Maggie had drifted blissfully off to dreamland as soon as her orgasm subsided. Make up sex is the best, James thought with a smile. He had tried to push the earlier confrontation with Sarah out of his mind and focus on his bride to be, making love to her that night like she was the only woman in the world. He laid next to her for a while, spooning her with his pelvis pressed into her backside, his arm slung over her waist, listening to her breathe. But sleep was elusive. I'm going to get online for a little bit, he decided. Maybe it will help me relax.
It was midnight so he wasn't expecting to see anyone on his contact list available on Skype but within seconds a message popped up from Abby: "Hello from Colorado!"
It's two hours earlier there I guess, he remembered. "Hey, Abby," he typed. "How are things?"
"Great! My sisters and I are having a really good time," she responded. "What's new there?"
"Not much," he replied, not wanting to get into a serious discussion with a 17-year-old about how he'd just chosen another woman over her mother. Does this mean Abby and I can't talk anymore? he wondered, feeling a pang of regret. He'd grown to care a lot about her over the last year.
"Well, aren't you Mr. Excitement," she laughed at him via an emoticon.
"Have you talked to your mom lately?" he asked pointedly.
"I did earlier tonight. She said my friend Bree stopped by and asked for me but she and I aren't talking. I really didn't want to go into the whole thing with my mom," she explained.
"Oh yeah?" James asked, pleased to have a ready-made topic available for discussion that didn't seem to involve him or Sarah.
"Yeah, it's a long story," Abby said. "And, really, if we go to Poland in August it won't matter anyway."
His ears perked up. "Poland? What do you mean?"
"My mom didn't tell you?" she typed. "She applied for a fellowship at her friend Pawel's university in Poland and we're probably going to be over there for at least a year. Maybe even permanently.”
Oh shit, that’s right. I had completely forgotten. "She did mention that...but...I guess I didn’t think it would really happen. I’m not surprised they wanted her though. Your mom is a really amazing and talented woman."
"Yeah, I know," was all Abby said in return.
"Will you check in on her tomorrow? Just see how she's doing and then let me know?" He hated using Abby as a medium but he was already starting to regret the dissonant note that had signaled the end of their conversation. Maybe even our entire relationship, he realized.
"Why? What happened? Why can't you talk to her yourself?" she asked.
"I probably won't get a chance to talk to her for a while," he said. "I'm working all day and she's still got a few performances left at night. Plus Maggie and I are planning a trip next weekend so we'll be away for a little bit. She just seemed a little...down...when I talked to her earlier. I was worried about her.”
"Oh," Abby said softly. "Yeah, I can do that, no problem."
"Thanks, it means a lot to me. I need to get to bed though, okay?"
"Sure thing. TTYL." She added a hugging emoticon and a little yellow and white flower.
He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling it tingle his fingertips. I know I told her I was sure, that I had decided. But I don't know when I will ever feel sure. Is this a case of fake it till you make it?
***
Her room had become a cave from which she had barely emerged since closing night of the show. She had every detail memorized from the prec
ise pattern of eyelet on her bed skirt and the trim on her pillow shams to the exact number of folds in the purple silk panels drawn across her windows to block out the glaring summer sun. Her phone was plugged in next to her bed but she had refused all calls and ignored all texts. She only glanced periodically to make sure one of her children hadn’t tried to contact her. She wasn’t even sure what day it was, but she was pretty sure she only had a few days until Abby and Owen returned from Colorado.
So far the people who had reached out included Rachel, her mother, Pawel, Xavier from the theater, her colleague Beth, the departmental secretary, and Liam. Rachel had been phoning relentlessly but Sarah couldn’t bear the thought of verbalizing what had transpired when James had visited a few nights before. I would be so pissed if Rachel ignored me like this, Sarah thought.
Why does this hurt so fucking bad? It hurts even more this time than the first time. She remembered curling into a fetal position and crying herself to sleep over James the night before Rachel’s wedding. It was if she’d vomited out the entire contents of her heart in that discrete three hour span she’d locked herself in the guest room. She’d allowed herself that short window of opportunity to wallow in self-pity before springing into action as dutiful matron of honor and supportive best friend. Three hours isn’t going to cut it this time, she knew. Hell, three days might not cut it either.
Why am I so fucking stupid? Why didn’t I realize I would never have him? she chastised herself. I’m almost 40 years old. I have kids and stretch marks. Why did I think he’d choose me over young, fit, blonde Maggie? She wanted to beat her head against the wall for being so stupid, for getting caught up in the fairy tale. This is not a fairy tale and I’m not a princess.
Her isolation came to an abrupt end that morning when Kathy Lynde arrived and used her key to let herself in her daughter’s back door. She marched right up the stairs, pushed the door open and immediately rushed to the windows where she threw back the silk curtains, allowing the warm morning sun to flood the bedroom. Sarah reacted like a bear coming out of hibernation.
“What’s going on here?” her mother asked, taking a seat on the bed next to her daughter. Sarah’s vocal cords had stretched and strained so much during the final days of Chess and then were forced into retirement for days on end. They were clearly confused; she opened her mouth to speak but no sound could be emitted.
Kathy’s face brightened with her wise “I’m going to figure you out” smile as she patted her daughter on the arm. “Is it Garrett?”
Sarah shook her head. That “heartbreak” felt like a tiny grain of sand compared to the entire shoreline that was James McAllister.
“Post-show letdown?” Kathy guessed.
Sarah shook her head again.
“James?” Kathy continued.
This time, Sarah nodded. The tears she thought had long dried up miraculously found their way to the top of the well again.
“I see,” her mother replied. “How long do you intend to hole yourself up in here? You know, your children are returning soon.”
Sarah attempted to sit up in the bed, leaning against the wall of pillows that lined her headboard. “Well, you know what they say,” she said sarcastically, “time heals all wounds.”
“That’s a fallacy,” her mother corrected her. “Time doesn’t heal all wounds. Love does.”
***
Chapter Twenty
A Tiny Golden Chance
James’ phone buzzed as soon as he arrived to his office. It was a Maryland area code but not a number he recognized. His first thought was of Sarah. After their talk, he’d removed her from his phone. She’d been a constant in his contacts since the night they met in September 2010. Almost two years ago now, he thought. But he was sure he would recognize her number. This isn’t it. The text read: I need to talk to you. He replied: Who is this? The reply came: Rachel.
He immediately phoned her. “What’s wrong?”
“Hi James,” she said, her voice high-pitched and trembling with worry. “What happened to Sarah? She’s not talking to anyone. She won’t return my phone calls and she’s locked herself in her house.”
His heart crashed through his rib cage and landed somewhere near his intestines. “What? Really?” He felt his pounding heartbeat reverberating throughout his body. That doesn’t sound like Sarah at all, he thought.
“Can you meet me for coffee later?” she asked.
“Okay, yeah, I can be there at 2. Is that alright?” It had been four days since he had told Sarah he was committing to Maggie and he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. He’d gone to her house to beg for her forgiveness and left angry because she’d accused him of not loving her and having post-traumatic stress disorder. She had been cold and unfeeling toward him but…I didn’t think she’d be so hurt she’d isolate herself from her support system, he thought.
He rushed to Java the Hut at the appointed time and headed into the small cafe, feeling strange that he was meeting a woman other than Sarah there. He spotted Rachel across the restaurant spooning oatmeal into a plump and dimpled infant’s eager mouth. He took the seat across from her and gave a little wave to the dark-haired baby. “She’s so cute!” he smiled. “How old is she now?”
“She’s almost 5 months,” Rachel answered as she fought to remove the spoon from her daughter as her mouth clamped down on it. The baby was laughing as if it was the funniest joke on the planet.
“What did Sarah tell you?” James asked, adjusting himself in the seat and contemplating whether or not he wanted coffee. He already felt caffeinated from the rush of endorphins that he’d experienced ever since Rachel’s phone call that morning.
“She won’t even talk to me; that’s the problem,” Rachel explained. “Her mother called me last night after going over there and letting herself in with her key. She hadn’t left her room in like three days. She said it was about you, but that’s all she would say.”
Guilt saturated his face. I never wanted to hurt her. I thought she would be fine. Maybe even relieved that she could finally get off the roller coaster. “I told her I couldn’t see her anymore…that seeing her was interfering with my ability to fully commit to Maggie.”
Rachel sat silently for a moment, absorbing his explanation. But it didn’t take her long to shoot back at him, “Are you fucking crazy?”
His eyes grew wide. “What? Why do you say that?” He could sense the defensiveness he’d felt when Sarah threw the PTSD label on him resurfacing.
She crossed her arms and shook her head like she’d never heard anything so ridiculous. “Seriously, did you leave your brain and heart in Afghanistan? Were you dropped on your head as a baby? What is your problem, James?”
He wasn’t sure why she was so exasperated. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about so please feel free to enlighten me,” he implored.
“First of all, you don’t really love Maggie,” Rachel said. “You love the idea of her, sure, you see her as a partner and mother, but you don’t see her as a soul mate. You don’t have the connection to her that you have to Sarah, and don’t even try to argue with me.”
He was too shocked to argue with her. He knew Rachel was brazen and outspoken, but he never expected her to confront him about his relationship with her best friend. Not like this. Not now.
She continued, “No one loves you like she does. And I have never known her to love anyone like she does you. I’ve seen her with dozens of men, and I have never once witnessed the depth of feeling she has for you.” She took a sip of her coffee and slid another bite of food into Amethyst’s mouth before continuing her tirade. “Do you know what your problem is?”
“Tell me,” he said, starting to feel his face flush uncontrollably as her words hit him across the cheek like the strike of a backhand.
“The problem is you’re scared. You’re scared of the fact that she comes with kids. You’re afraid she will get bored with you; that you won’t be able to share her. You’re scared you’ll have to admit to e
veryone you know that you aren’t afraid to defy convention.” She sat back with a look of accomplishment, as if she’d just solved world hunger or global warming.
“Is that so?” James managed. His mind was scrambling, but he couldn’t figure out how to combat this assault. All the military knowledge in the world couldn’t prepare him to battle Rachel.
“And I know you keep saying you want kids, that you want your own family,” Rachel continued. “But what you don’t realize is that you already have that with her. You love those kids more than you could ever admit. You and Abby have bonded - YOU, not Matt, are the father figure she looks up to. And Owen? He doesn’t know you as well as Abby does, but he idolizes you. He asked his mother if you were safe in Afghanistan EVERY single day you were deployed. Did you know that?”
James’s jaw refused to close. He had no comeback, no argument against anything she threw at him. “So what do you think I should do?” he finally asked.
“I am not here to tell you what to do,” Rachel explained. “I’m here to present the facts and try to help you get your head out of your ass so you can make good decisions. The simple fact is that you love Sarah and that is not going to change. And it’s only going to be a matter of time that you’re married to Maggie before you miss Sarah and want to be with her again. Or worse yet, if she is unavailable, who knows what you might do to meet the needs she fulfilled?”
She then leaned in close to him to deliver her closing argument as clearly as possible: “Furthermore, you are never, ever going to find anyone who is as devoted to you as Sarah. Ever.”
The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 65