Mountains Wanted (19 page)

Sarah and Abby crossed
the Mall to the natural history museum and Rachel, Thomas and Owen headed
toward the Capitol to the air and space museum. They walked up the steps,
through the security check and into the marble rotunda, encircled by large
columns and reigned over by a large taxidermied African elephant. The museum
was celebrating its 100 year anniversary and had a special exhibit to
commemorate the event. Sarah was also anxious to see the exhibit on
evolution. She and Abby lingered over those two exhibits and then made their
way upstairs to the gems and minerals which were Abby’s favorite collection. She
ooohed and ahhhed over the Hope Diamond and some of the other jewels, which
reminded Sarah that she was wearing her pendant from Pawel and had completely
forgotten to tell Rachel about it. She wasn’t sure about showing it to
Rachel and confessing that Pawel had sent it their mixed company, so she
thought it might be better to wait until they were alone.

Sarah and Rachel texted
to determine a place to meet for lunch and they settled on a restaurant a few
blocks away on Pennsylvania Avenue. Once everyone was seated, Owen announced in
a bubbly voice, “Hey, Rachel, did you see the necklace my mom got in the mail
yesterday?”

Sarah’s cheeks erupted
with a light pink flush.
Leave it to Owen to spill the beans
, she
thought. The pendant was tucked under her sweater, but in a microsecond, Rachel
had reached across the table and lifted it out to put it on display. “Oh my
god, Sarah, that’s absolutely gorgeous! Who gave it to you?!”

“Pawel sent it to me
before he left for Poland,” Sarah said calmly, nonchalantly, as if she received
precious gems from men every day.

Rachel’s eyes widened
but she seemed to get the hint that further conversation on this topic needed
to be out of earshot of the kids. After lunch, she grabbed Sarah’s arm and
almost dragged her to the ladies room while Abby begrudgingly watched the boys
and listened to one too many jokes about flatulence.

“What does this mean?”
Rachel demanded as soon as they were in private...or as private as a public
restroom can be.

Sarah shook her head,
“It means nothing. He’s just being generous. It’s the way he is. He’s
married, you know.”

“Do you wish it was from
James?” Rachel always knew right where to slice.  

“James will never buy me
a necklace,” Sarah replied, refusing to answer the question.
On the grounds
that it is so ridiculous
, she told herself.
           
Rachel
smirked, “You are so fucking lucky. Men never buy me jewelry,” she complained with
an exasperated sigh. And with that, they went to rescue Abby from the
pre-pubescent male humor she’d been subjected to for the preceding five
minutes.

I am lucky
, Sarah thought as she collected her things.
 I
hope I never forget how lucky I am.

***

The next day Sarah drove
to BWI to pick up her brother Adam who was flying in from Seattle for the holidays.
Their mother and the kids were waiting at home, cooking up Adam’s very favorite
meal. “For a gay guy, I sure suck at cooking,” he always joked. He didn’t get
to see his mother and sister often, but when he did, he very much relished
their culinary expertise. Sarah waited in the cell phone lot for Adam’s call to
tell her his plane had landed.  Sure enough, at 12:07 on the dot her phone
rang.

The deep voice of her
baby brother came through on the other line, “Hi, I guess I am feeling this
switching coasts thing. I’m a little disoriented!” he chuckled
exuberantly.

Sarah laughed too.
 “I’ll be right there!”

The security guard was
shooing the pair away from the curb after a prolonged Welcome to Maryland Hug. This
was Adam’s first trip to visit his mom and sister since they’d moved for
Sarah’s job. She stepped away and took a good look at him: taller than she
remembered, same old flannel shirt, maybe a few pounds heavier, and he’d let
his hair grow out. “Oh god, Adam, you have a beard? What’s up with that?”

Adam nearly blushed. “A
certain someone happens to like the scruffy mountain man look!” he gushed as he
climbed into Sarah’s Toyota.

Sarah drove away amid a
nasty stare from the guard who’d shooed them. “A certain someone? Oh, for
fuck’s sake, you don’t need to be all elusive with me!”

Adam laughed again. Sarah
loved his laugh; he bellowed deep from his diaphragm, like he was expelling
gold. She’d missed that laugh so much since she’d moved out East. She hadn’t
seen Adam for a year now. They’d gone back to Colorado to visit him for the
holidays the previous year, but since then he’d moved to Seattle for a new job,
and apparently had acclimated quite well to the Pacific Northwest.

“Okay, okay,” Adam
relented. “His name is Brandon and he’s 27 and gorgeous. He’s a software
engineer. We just moved in together!”

“Oh my god, Adam, that’s
awesome! I trust you’ll share pictures with us when we get back to my
house. Why didn’t he come with you?”

“Well, we talked about
it and he wanted to go see his family in Cali, and of course I wanted to see
you guys. We thought this year we should go see our families separately and
next year maybe we can go together,” Adam explained. “There is one problem on
his end though,” he said after a short pause.

“What’s that?” Sarah
asked, already having a feeling she knew.

“He’s not really out to
his family yet,” Adam replied. Sarah could hear the disappointment in his
voice and glancing over, even in a fraction of a second that her focus left the
highway, she could see it in his dark eyes.

They caught up on Adam’s
life and Sarah heard probably more than she ever wanted to about Brandon. Even
though there was a bit of wistfulness that they couldn’t be as open as Adam
would like, Sarah still got the impression that he was very happy. They pulled
into her driveway and the kids and Kathy ran out to meet him. Soon Adam was
covered in Lyndes and one Taylor, all embracing their favorite son, brother,
uncle.

That night at dinner,
Sarah’s feeling of gratitude was so immense, it swelled up inside her like a
dam about to burst.
My family may be small,
she thought, thinking of
James gathered around a huge table with his parents, sisters and their
families,
but it’s totally awesome
.

***

   
       
On
Christmas morning, Sarah glanced at the alarm clock and was surprised to see
the green numbers announcing 7:04 as the time.
Since when do my kids sleep
this late on Christmas morning?
she wondered. They had been up late the
night before playing board games with her, her mom and Uncle Adam.
And maybe
this means they are growing up
, she thought with a bittersweet twinge. She
grabbed her phone off the nightstand and saw she had three texts.

From Pawel:  
Merry
Christmas, sweetheart! Going to call you later! *kisses*
  
         
From
Rachel:  
OMG!!!!  Big news! Might drop by after the kids open
presents.
   
       
From
James:
Merry Xmas! :)

She replied in the order
she received them:

   
       
To
Pawel:
Same to you darling! Talk to you soon xoxo
   
       
To
Rachel:
Wow sounds exciting! Come over whenever!
   
       
To
James:
Merry Christmas, handsome. I’ll call you later. Xoxo

Well, James is sending
texts with emoticons
, she observed,
I
guess that’s a step in the right direction.
She shook her head and smiled.
Maybe
he’s a lost cause.
Then she distracted herself wondering what was going on
with Rachel as she made her way down the stairs. She started to hear some
stirring from the upstairs bedrooms. The house felt cold so she turned up the
thermostat and headed into the kitchen to start the coffee.

That’s when she heard
the thunder of 10 and 15 year old feet thumping down the wooden stairs. “You
two sound like a herd of elephants!” Sarah exclaimed, glad to see the happy and
expectant grins of her children appearing in the kitchen.

“Is it time yet?” Owen
prodded.

“We’ve got to wait for
Uncle Adam and Grandma,” Abby admonished her brother and Sarah nodded. Owen
ran off to see if Uncle Adam was still asleep on the futon in the den.  Kathy
wandered in just as Owen ran out. Abby threw her arms around her grandmother
and kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Grandma!”

“Merry Christmas to you,
pretty girl!” Kathy returned her kiss. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet
and waited patiently for the coffee pot to fill. Sarah was busy putting some
cinnamon rolls in the oven and unloading the dishwasher.

Owen returned in minutes
with a bleary-eyed, bedhead-stricken Uncle Adam in tow. “We’re ready!” Owen
shouted excitedly and dragged Sarah’s brother out into the living room. Kathy
and Sarah filled their coffee mugs and joined the children in the living room
as well.

Sarah was on Auto Pilot
watching everyone open their gifts. She felt like she was observing from a spot
on the ceiling, not really in the moment as an active participant. Christmases
had been hard since her divorce. She supposed it’s because she had too long
retained that idyllic vision of a traditional family, complete with mother,
father, daughter, son, something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
I’m
never going to have that again
, she predicted as Owen tore into yet another
toy. Then she rephrased, editing out the word “again.”
 I never had that
with Daniel either. We were far from happy,
she admitted, wondering
where all the nostalgia was coming from.

An hour later, Sarah was
cleaning up the wrapping-papered aftermath when the back door handle twisted
admitting Rachel and Thomas to the house. Sarah heard Rachel’s bright voice
call out, “Merry Christmas, everyone!” Thomas had an arsenal of nerf guns
sticking out of a backpack strapped to his posterior. Rachel was glowing.
Christmas
spirit?
Sarah pondered and quickly intuited there was something else. She
glanced down at her left hand and saw the source of her glow immediately.

“Nothing gets by you,”
Rachel laughed, noticing that Sarah’s attention was already drawn to her
finger. She held out her hand, “Jack proposed!”

Sarah squealed, “Oh my god,
Rachel! That’s wonderful!” She took her friend’s hand into her own
and bent to inspect the diamond solitaire set in white gold with three ruby
baguettes arranged like flower petals jutting out from each side. “Wow, it’s
stunning!”

“Mark your calendar
now,” Rachel warned, “We’re getting married in Colorado in June!”

Sarah was overwhelmed. Rachel
had known Jack for less than three months. She couldn’t believe that they were
close enough to already be talking marriage. 
I’ve known James for at
least a month longer
, Sarah considered,
and I can’t imagine even saying
the L word, let alone the M one. 
Despite her trepidation, she was
happy for Rachel. Jack was a good man and such a step up from Mark. 
I
guess they worked out those problems that we discussed on Black Friday,
Sarah considered.
I was so focused on James I forgot to follow up on what
happened after our conversation.

Sarah took a deep breath
and pushed the thoughts of James out of her mind. “So, I’m the maid of honor,
right?”

Rachel threw her arms
around Sarah. “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you are! And I’m making
you wear a pink dress with poufy sleeves,” she joked.

Sarah laughed, trying to
imagine Rachel choosing anything pink or frilly. Her pick was much more
likely to be revealing and slinky, maybe in red or deep purple. “Wow, you only
have six months. I guess we better get on the planning. So, in Colorado,
huh?”

 
“Yes, in the Springs,” Rachel replied, which
was where her family was from.  

Two trips home in the
coming year
, Sarah realized. The
thought of seeing her mountains instantly made her smile. She grasped Rachel’s
hand and squeezed. “What an incredible Christmas this has been!”

***

   
       
James had issued Sarah a
rain check for the dinner at his house that had never come to fruition and on
New Year’s Eve she decided to cash it in. He’d just returned from Ohio and
she was missing him fiercely.
 Fiercely is not too strong a word,
she realized, thinking about the nights she’d laid in her empty bed feeling
such a deep longing, it was like a vacuum in her soul. And it wasn’t Pawel she
was thinking about on those lonely nights, although she missed him for
different reasons. Her longing had a definite trigger and it was James’ absence. There
were times she’d toss herself from one side to the other, abruptly awakened by
a flash in her memory, him hovering over her, the way his eyelashes looked when
his eyes were closed, or the cleft of his spine delineated between the
hemispheres of his muscular back.  

On her drive to his
house in Laurel, she had plenty of time to think. In traffic, it was a 40
minute trek. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen him for two weeks. She
had spoken to him on the phone on Christmas and that conversation still echoed
in her mind, particularly the part where she told him that Rachel had gotten
engaged. “Wow,” he’d remarked and then fell silent. Sarah wondered if he
thought she was telling him to gauge his reaction. She really had had no other
motive than to share her best friend’s good news. Sensing his discomfort with
the topic, she changed the subject quickly.

“How’s your newborn
niece?  Did you hold her?” she questioned.

James laughed, the
tension suddenly diffused, “Oh, she’s really cute. Still doesn’t do much yet at
this age. I held her for a minute and my sister took a picture.”

“Oh, I want to see!”
Sarah cooed, trying to imagine his strong hands cradling a tiny baby.  

Her GPS said she was
getting close. She was still trying to formulate an image of him holding an
infant. As much as they’d talked about themselves by this point, she had still
not shared very much with him about her children. She wondered if he
thought of her as a mother. He didn’t seem the type to be enticed by the
whole MILF fantasy. After all, he rarely mentioned her children. She wondered
if that was part of how he had compartmentalized her: she was just Sarah the
Sex Goddess and perhaps Dr. Lynde, the sociologist. But the other huge
part of her identity was motherhood. She wondered how he reconciled it with her
other roles.

The night was cold and
drizzly, with temperatures right on the verge of freezing but not quite cold
enough to push the rain over the edge to solid precipitation. The car had
finally gotten all toasty warm just in time for her to venture out into the
brutal elements. She slowed down, reading the house numbers and searching for
the right driveway, very nearly missing her turn. Her night vision was failing
her, the black pavement was so shiny and reflecting. Squinting, she
started to wish she’d worn her glasses.
Maybe I need a stronger
prescription. Fuck I’m getting old!
 she groaned. She was
momentarily blasted with feelings of self-consciousness. There was always this
latent anxiety lurking where she wondered what in the world a man like James
saw in her. She sighed and shrugged it off.

She felt sort of silly gathering
up her overnight bag.
He never brings anything to my house
, she
considered,
but then again he almost always leaves first thing in the
morning.
Those moments of anxiety were fleeting, replaced by a tingly
feeling when she imagined waking next to him late in the morning, perhaps
sharing a light breakfast, and then leisurely making love again before she
headed home.
I’ve only ever gotten about eight hours with him at a time, she
realized. Maybe ten
. It was 6 PM and she wasn’t due back the next day until
evening,
maybe later if Mom doesn’t mind the kids staying over longer
. The
prospect of having a whole weekend with him was having a powerful effect on her
body as she struggled to focus on getting the car door shut and walking up to
his front door.
 Would he think I’m overstaying my welcome if I didn’t
leave right away tomorrow?
she wondered. That ridiculously annoying anxiety
had fought its way back to the surface.

Don’t get ahead of
yourself
, she finally chastised
herself. The damp, cool night air was saturated with promise. The thick layer
of clouds concealed the moon and stars but she wished on an invisible star
anyway just as she heard him unlock the door. It was sheer moments before she
was caught up in his arms, him bending down slightly, his breath on her neck
and whispering, “I missed you...”

This
.
This is what I needed
, she thought as
he tenderly stroked her cheek and brushed his lips against hers, his other hand
still encircling her waist. After several seconds he pulled back and she
had another look at him, her eyes tracing a line from his face, across his broad
shoulders and down his front. He was wearing sweatpants and a
t-shirt. He was also barefoot. 
I guess he feels comfortable not
dressing up for me at this point,
she mused.

He led her into the
kitchen where there was an assortment of pots and pans all steaming and
sizzling away. “What are we having?” she queried as he peeked into the
oven.

“Stir fry,” he replied. “And
there’s a pie in the oven.”

Wow
, she thought,
James McAllister makes pie?
Homemade pie? Surely not.

“Everything smells
delicious!” Sarah reassured him as she took in her surroundings. She felt like
she was studying a wild animal’s natural habitat. The kitchen was tidy, almost
clinically so; she noted the cutting board already soaking in the sink. She
peered through the opening to the living room and the first thing she saw were
books, approximately a zillion of them. She transitioned through the
archway and surveyed the living room: a recliner, a loveseat covered with an
antique looking afghan, and books. The idyllic scene was warmed by the amber
glow of a lamp on the end table. There were books on shelves and books on the
coffee table. There were books stacked in the corner and beside the loveseat
and floor lamp. Her eyes grew wide at the sheer numbers of volumes. She had
never expected to find a veritable library in his living room.

James had followed her
and was grinning at her reaction, “I like to read,” he explained in his
classic, understated way.

“I see that,” Sarah
replied. 
I clearly underestimated his nerdy side
, she realized as
her eyes began scanning titles. Lots of science fiction. Some fantasy. Tons of
nonfiction: political books, history, a huge collection of Civil War and WWII,
biographies, scientific type stuff.  

She turned around to see
him still smiling.
He looks like such a jock
, she thought, admiring the
outline of his chest muscles against the cotton fabric of the t-shirt.
So
much more than meets the eye.
“All these books,” she confessed, laughing,
“these are making me wet. Did you set all this up just to seduce nerdy
chicks?”

James laughed and shook
his head. “I genuinely like to read. I don’t watch TV except sports and
movies. I really prefer reading.”

Who knew that James
McAllister would turn out to be a pie-baking intellectual?
The man is full of surprises
, Sarah
sighed. James headed back into the kitchen and Sarah heard the clattering of
china as he withdrew plates from the cupboards. She looked over a few more
titles and then peeked around the corner down the hallway. There were
three closed doors.
Two bedrooms and a bathroom
, she guessed.  

“Hey, Sarah,” he called
from the kitchen. “What do you want to drink?”

She crossed back into
the kitchen and eyed the wine glasses on the counter. “Ah, you know me too
well,” she smiled. “Why even ask?” He uncorked the bottle and began to pour a
generous glass of Riesling, her favorite.  

James’ stir fry was
surprisingly good: spicy, but not too spicy. Sarah had to keep reminding
herself to slow down and savor the meal because all she could think about was
skipping ahead to the part where she was running her fingers over his chest
muscles and her tongue up his shaft. But he was extraordinarily relaxed and
conversant, almost as if he sensed her urgency and wanted to make her wait for
him.

Later he led her to his
bedroom and they laid on their sides on his bed facing each other, continuing
the conversation from the dining table. James was finishing up his tales
of the holiday and his trip to Ohio. He took out his phone and showed her the
picture of him holding his newborn niece Marianna. Sarah had never seen a
sweeter picture.
There is something intrinsically moving about seeing
strength subdued, harnessed into a gentle tenderness
, she observed.

“Oh, you’ll make such a
great daddy someday,” Sarah remarked, her eyes a little glassy after seeing the
picture.

James beamed, “I hope
so.”

His eyes were a little
distant. Sarah had wanted to tear his clothes from his limbs the moment she saw
him, but the tone had changed. She saw an opening. “So why is it you’ve
never married and started a family?”

James hesitated, looking
away for a moment, and then back into Sarah’s expectant eyes. “I was married a
long time ago,” he said with no inflection.

Sarah internally gasped.
How can I just be learning this?
she wondered, calculating the length of
their relationship at five months. All the nights of them lying beside each
other, all the pillow talk, and this never came up? She was shocked but didn’t
vocalize it. She bet that James could read from her expression that more
elaboration was required.

“Well,” he began to
explain, “I went to Alabama for boot camp fresh out of high school and that’s
where I met her. She followed me to Florida for EOD school.”

Sarah’s eyebrows raised,
“EOD?”

“Explosive Ordnance
Disposal,” James explained. “I was there for nine months, then I got orders for
Iraq.” He paused, searching for the right words, wondering how simple of an
explanation he could get away with. “I kind of freaked out, to tell you the
truth. All I could think about was not coming home. And even if I did, not
having someone to come home to.”

Sarah could feel the
tension growing in his voice as he struggled to stabilize his pitch. She felt
the memories creeping up on him, threatening to ambush. “So you married
some chick from Alabama?”

He nodded. “Her name was
Becca. She was very cute, very manipulative, and very crazy.”

Sarah laughed at his
description. “How so?”

“She was insanely
jealous. I’m off fighting a war and her only real concern was whether or not I
was fucking anybody else. Cause you know, a middle eastern war zone is the
best place to pick up chicks. Oh!” he exclaimed, a memory snagging hold, “How
about this for crazy: she stopped taking her birth control pills so she could
try to get pregnant without me knowing! Fortunately that didn’t work.”

“Oh my god, James, really?”
Sarah asked, incredulous. “And you still married her?”

James shook his head,
“Hey, I was 19 years old. Give me a break.”

Sarah could see that
talking about Becca had riled up some other memories. His hands were just
slightly trembling as his eyes searched the wall behind her. She instinctively
placed her palm on his knee and squeezed, hoping he wouldn’t clam up, hoping
he’d feel her trust.  
“So what happened?” she asked softly, hoping she
could get him to continue opening up.

His limbs stiffened
under her hand and she could see the memories rock through him like an
earthquake. “It’s a pretty long story,” he bristled, unsure if he wanted
to invest the emotional energy in reliving tales of his deployment. He’d long
ago laid those demons to rest and when he was honest with himself, not having
to dredge all that up again was one of the reasons he didn’t like letting
people get too close.

Sarah didn’t want to
make him uncomfortable, but she did feel like she needed to push just a little.
She felt he was on the verge, right on the edge of letting his guard down, showing
her his vulnerable side. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she
assured him, “but I would like to hear about your experiences over there. I’ve
never heard about war firsthand...and, well, I think it would really help me
understand you.”  

If he wants to be
understood
, she thought, realizing
that a man like James who was so capable of compartmentalizing a person was
probably even more adept at compartmentalizing feelings and memories.
His
response to my invitation will tell me a lot about his trust in me and his
willingness to invest in our relationship. 
Her heart was pounding
realizing how pivotal of a moment it was.

He nodded and breathed
deeply. She could almost see the box marked “Iraq” open up in his mind. “I
had a couple of close calls,” he shared, looking away again, “and I lost some
friends.”

She squeezed his knee
again and when he turned toward her, she saw that his eyes were illuminated;
they glistened with emotion as he began to spill the contents of that box at
her feet. “I saw a lot of the country during my time over there, but most of it
was spent in the north around Mosul. This was the area where many foreign
fighters came through and also was a main corridor for smuggling weapons. One
of my responsibilities was to detonate weapons caches that were discovered.”