Mountains Wanted (35 page)

She stood up and moved
to the window, studying the leaves swaying in the tall trees at the property
line.
 I've come so far and I've fought so hard...but I've
lost. I've lost him. Maybe I pushed too hard, maybe I didn't help him
see.
The vision is intangible.
Every nerve in her body was fighting
her presence there.
 I need to leave. 
She headed toward the
door but he leapt up into her path. His hands were on her shoulders,
"Please, Sarah, please don't be like this."

"So what happens
now? What happens to me? Do I just fade out of your life? Do I just step
aside and let you go off to war and pretend we never had this, that we never
were together?" She was crying, big fat tears streaming down hot against
her flushed cheeks.

He pulled her into his
arms and held her so tightly that her breath was limited to tiny gasps. When he
released her she saw the tears trickling down his cheeks as well.
Oh my god,
he’s crying. He’s actually crying real tears.
"No, Sarah, that's not
what I want." He stood just inches away as she folded her arms against her
chest, hugging herself where his warmth had just been. “That’s not at all what
I want,” he reiterated.

"Well, what do you
want?" her voice echoed down the hallway, louder than she intended, more
demanding.

"I feel close to
you and I don't want to lose that. You know me better than just about anybody. I
can't imagine not having you in my life in some capacity," he explained,
his voice soothing, drawing her back to him like he always did. She
witnessed the corners of his mouth sneaking into a smirk, his trademark boyish
smirk she had always been powerless against.

"So you want your
cake and eat it too?" she accused him, renewing the anger he'd tried to
assuage.

"Maybe?" he
shot her an apologetic, boys-will-be-boys look, a lazy attempt to lighten the
mood. Then he realized it wasn't going to work this time. His patience for
discussing anything of an emotional nature was wearing thin. His tone grew
tight: "Alright, fine, Sarah, I'm sorry. I thought you'd feel that
our friendship was too strong and too precious to throw away." He stepped
down the hall away from her, resigned. "Go ahead and leave if you want but
just remember this: I never made you any promises. I never said we'd end up together."

"No," Sarah
agreed, "you didn’t promise me anything, but you told me that you wouldn't
decide until you got back. You said you didn't know what you want."

"I changed my
mind," he said coldly. "Are you staying or are you going?"

Sarah wondered how hard
he was fighting to convince himself that this was what he wanted.
Was this
decision being driven by the same irrational forces that had caused him to marry
before his first deployment? Was this coming from fear or was it really what he
wanted?

She looked at him
standing there, his hand on his hip, his skin so smooth and his eyes so blue. His
whiskers were beginning to shadow his jawline. She saw the outline of his chest
muscles pressing into his t-shirt, the armbands of which gathered snugly around
his biceps. Even in anger and despair she wanted to run her fingers down those
muscles while he slid his eager cock into her soft, inviting sex.
This is my
problem
, she sighed,
he makes me crazy. Crazy with lust. Crazy
with love. Just completely, undeniably crazy. Before I met him, I thought I was
a sane person.

"What do you want
me to do?" she asked breathlessly, knowing that no matter what she
belonged to him. Even if he didn't want her. She still wanted to make him
happy, despite everything. Despite the rejection.

He held out his arms to
her. "I want you to stay," he said softly. "Please spend
one more night with me."

Sarah knew the easy
thing to do would be to walk away, to accept defeat, to block him out of her
life for good, to let her heart heal in his absence. The hard thing to do would
be to stay, to give him her heart in whatever capacity he would accept it, to
pledge her devotion to him whether it was as a friend or lover. She was never
one to take the easy way out.
 I want to be strong,
she thought.
 I
want to be strong for him. For us.

***

For a while she had
stood in the hallway, collapsed in his embrace, until, without words, he pulled
back and smiled at her, the lightness returning to his eyes. He dragged her
down the hallway to his bedroom which seemed empty now that so many of his
possessions were packed up. Sarah immediately noticed a small burgundy box
sitting on his nightstand and with a stabbing pain realized it was an
engagement ring.

Seeing where her eyes
were drawn, he went directly toward the box and moved it from the table. "I'm
sorry, I didn't mean to leave it out."

"Can I see
it?" her voice quivered. She knew not seeing it would be worse than wondering
what it looked like.
The unknown is always worse than the known.

He pulled the small
burgundy velvet covered box out of the larger matching cardboard one and
carefully flipped the lid open, revealing a half carat round diamond encircled
by smaller stones and set in platinum.

Here's the ring that I
will never wear
, she thought bitterly,
the realization piercing her. She gently pulled it out of its velvet nest and
examined it slowly, turning it over, watching how the diamonds refracted the
light. Without asking or even looking at James, she slid it onto her finger,
wishing it was hers. Wishing he was hers. 
It fits.

"It's
gorgeous," she whispered, reluctantly returning it to its case.

He placed the ring in
the top drawer of his bureau and started to strip his shirt off over his head. "What
are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"I want you to come
lay with me," he said. "Please?"

She considered his
request, not knowing how to say no to him. "Oh, James, I don't know,"
she balked. "What about Maggie?  I don't want to --"

He touched his hand to
her lips. "She knows you're here. It's okay."

They were silent after
that, their hands and speechless lips speaking the volumes of words trapped in
the space between them. He pulled off Sarah's blouse and she stripped the rest
of her clothes away until she lay naked and exposed in the bed. He lowered
himself onto her body so slowly, so carefully, as if she was made of glass. She
felt that fragile, as if she might crack into a million pieces at any time.
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 it 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. 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
Sarah’s, 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 awoke, the ring
was gone, all of the bags that lined the hallway were gone, and James was gone.
She knew 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'd 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.

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

***

Packing for Colorado
afforded Sarah a much-needed opportunity to distract herself from James’
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 dreams except 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. W
here am I going to find the strength? Is my
homeland forever tainted?

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 step mother and brother.
He should be getting a stepfather and 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 and the music and book Sarah had brought to occupy her mind had
failed miserably. Sleep had eluded her. 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 miserably 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 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 then she couldn’t
help but think of the memories James was building with Maggie.
How 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.
 

“Yep, getting the rental
car now,” Sarah replied. “Do 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 into Sarah’s ear as they embraced.

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 till she got her way, so much so that people
generally tended to acquiesce before her fury could be unleashed. Sarah always
had the impression that Mrs. Brock disliked her and blamed her for convincing
her daughter to leave Thomas’ 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” and it meant she had exactly 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’s 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 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, Sarah! 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, 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 wondering why
it wasn't her about to walk down the aisle, her about to bear the child of a
man she loved. Despite her efforts to conceal and submerge those nasty thoughts
deep within her subconscious, Rachel's perception easily penetrated that
facade. "Are you alright?"