Mountains Wanted (22 page)

In a few minutes she had
all the drinks poured and paper plates, still going for that effortless vibe,
set out for their casual dinner. She called everyone back into the kitchen and
soon plates were heaped with slices of pizza and breadsticks. They all gathered
around the dining room table and Sarah marveled for a moment at how surreal it
felt to have a man joining her and her children for dinner once again. But
the mood was so different than the one that had existed when her ex-husband sat
at the table. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, the mood was light and
jovial. Sarah tried not to let a certain thought take hold in her mind:
This
could be a vision of my future.

After dinner, they
played a board game. Sarah watched James carefully as he interacted with
her children. He had an ease about him and a magnetism that drew Abby and Owen
to him. Their laughter echoed throughout the house. At nine, she sent them
upstairs to bed and looked at him expectantly for an assessment. He
grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the sofa beside him. “Your kids are
awesome,” he pronounced.

Sarah couldn’t help but
beam. 
Of course they are
, she thought,
I’m their mom! 
 She
squeezed his hand and said, “I’m so glad you got to come and meet them. I think
they really liked you.”

“Was this some sort of
audition?” James questioned, smirking a bit.  

Sarah laughed. “Of
course not,” she said, only a touch defensively. “It’s just that being a mom is
a big part of my life, and you don’t really know that side of me. I
thought you might like to see me in my natural habitat.”

“As with everything else
in your life, I can see you also excel at motherhood. They’re smart, they seem
happy, evidence of a job well done,” James congratulated her.

Relief washed over her
and for a moment she basked in the resounding peace she felt. Just sitting
there on the couch, the kids off to bed, in the quiet stillness of the house,
it was enough. It felt like all she could ask for.

***

   
       
She
stared at her phone in disbelief. Two days had passed and James had fallen
silent.
Back to his old ways
, she surmised.
After I thought he’d made
so much progress.
She put her phone in her purse, tired of looking at the
screen, willing the little messaging symbol to pop up, yearning to hear the
twinkling chime. She turned her attention back to her computer screen. She
was soaking up the last day of freedom before the students returned, and she’d
promised herself that she would return all the emails that needed returned,
schedule a phone meeting with her book publisher, and start getting her
presentation for the conference in March together.  

As hard as she tried to
concentrate, her thoughts kept returning to the words she’d sent down the wire
two days before:
I’m so glad you liked my kids. What are you doing this
weekend?
She rubbed her eyes and wished the words on the screen could hold
a fraction of her interest that James did.
Did I scare him off? Is he mad?
Did something happen to him?  

She was going to Pawel’s
for dinner. She hated to admit that she was in no mood to see him. 
I’m
sure I’ll be fine when I get there
, she reassured herself.
After all,
he’ll distract me and take good care of me.  I should really not be
thinking of James all the time anyway. I’m like a crazy person.
 She
continued her self-talk and she began to return emails, completing her simplest
tasks first before moving onto the more demanding ones.

Why does this man hold
such power over me?
she wondered. 
He
is a mystery. How can we feel so much, so strongly when we are together and
then poof, he’s so elusive and distant?
“I don’t know if I can do this
anymore,” she said aloud. She forced herself to put her phone in her purse and
return to her computer screen.

Moments later she pulled
it back out again and sent him another text:
Are you okay? It always worries
me when I don’t hear back from you.

    ***

   
       
Sarah
ended up going home early. Her mind was too cluttered to concentrate and
sitting in her office chastising herself for her lack of productivity naturally
seemed unproductive. She sent Pawel a text to say she wasn’t feeling well
and hoped to reschedule dinner. Then in addition to feeling angry at herself
for pining away for James, she also felt guilty for bagging Pawel. 
I am
a mess,
she thought as she sat by the French doors and watched a couple of
winter birds sampling the seeds Owen had put in the feeder. Sipping her tea and
trying to shake the pervasive feeling of discontent, she heard the screech of
the school bus’ brakes and then the handle on the back door turn.  

She carried her tea into
the kitchen, hoping the motion and change of scenery would help to engage her
Auto Pilot. “How was your day?” Sarah faked cheeriness as her children ambled
in, searching for an after school snack. “There are apples,” she reminded Owen
as he grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard.  He momentarily looked
defeated and then a big smile spread across his face. “What?” Sarah questioned,
hopeful that whatever he had to say would lift her spirits.

He thumbed through the
papers in his folder and handed her one. At the top was an A circled in
green ink. “I got an A on my science test!” he beamed with pride.

“Oh, that’s fantastic!”
Sarah exclaimed, affixing the test to the refrigerator with an Empire State
building magnet they’d gotten on a summer excursion to New York.  

Sarah noticed that Abby
was standing at the refrigerator, the doors spread wide, as if the contents
were going to morph before her eyes. “What’s up, Abby?”

She shook her head
nonchalantly and reached for a yogurt. “What’s for dinner?”

Dinner, ugh,
Sarah thought. She hadn’t eaten all day.
“Tacos?” she hypothesized.
Assuming I can find the energy
, she thought. Abby
looked satisfied and began to walk away just in time to hear her mother sigh
and glance down at her phone again, which was projecting its emptiness from the
cold, hard countertop.

Abby wasn’t used to
seeing her mother steeped in one of her melancholy moods. Sarah tried very hard
to conceal that side of herself and always give off positive vibes, especially
to her children. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern growing in her eyes.

Something inside Sarah
broke. The tear she’d been battling slipped down her cheek before she
could will it back inside. She felt her sinuses burning as she struggled
to get herself under control. “Oh, Abby, I’m sorry...just having a rough day.” She
gave a little shrug and fully expected her daughter to nod and flit up the
stairs to her bedroom to do whatever teen girls do after school to avoid doing
their homework.

Abby looked surprised
enough to be knocked over with a feather. She hadn’t seen her mother cry since
the divorce. Suddenly the formerly silent phone came alive and began to
buzz from across the room. She watched her mother’s eyes glisten with hope. Sarah
crossed the room toward it, getting close enough to see from whom the call came,
then announced, “It’s Rachel,”

“Don’t you want to talk
to her?” Abby inquired, clearly confused.

Sarah pulled a chair out
from the table and with trembling fingers sat, placing the phone face down
against the smooth wood. She didn’t want to talk to Rachel. It would just be
“wedding plans this” and “wedding plans that.” As much as she wanted to be
happy for her friend, she could not deny there were pangs of jealousy taking
little bites out of her, like a parasite.
Great, more fucking guilt
,
Sarah cringed.
God, I wish I knew what was wrong with me today.

“How are things with
Tyler?” Sarah changed the subject. This was her go-to tactic whenever she was
on the verge of showing emotional weakness.
Turn the tables. Get the other
person to talk instead. Sheer genius
, she thought.

“Things are good,” Abby
replied. “Mom, is this about James?”

Sarah sighed again; she
had almost forgotten that the cat was out of the bag. Abby had met him so
there was no denying that she was dating him. The tears welled up inside her
again as she thought about what a risk she’d taken introducing him to her
children.
Mom and Rachel were wrong
, she realized,
I shouldn’t have
done it. There was no need to. It scared him away. I fucked everything up.

Abby pushed a little
harder, “So...it’s James, right? You know, I really liked him. What did he do?”
There were times, little flashes, that Sarah could see herself in Abby. This
was one of those times. She watched her daughter take a seat next to her at the
table close to her.

“I haven’t heard from
him since he was here the other night,” Sarah admitted, her walls crumbling. “I’m
afraid having him here to meet you guys was a mistake.”  

Abby looked sad, her
blue-green eyes wide and full of empathy. She placed her hand on her mother’s. “I’m
sorry, Mom. Maybe he’s just been really busy?”

Sarah nodded.
 “Maybe. I don’t know, sweetie, he is hard to understand sometimes.”

A little smirk lifted
the corner of Abby’s lips. “You mean men in their 30’s don’t make any more
sense than 16-year-olds?”

Sarah laughed and turned
her hand so it was on top of Abby’s, patting it a little. “I wish I could say
they do,” she admitted. “Relationships are tough, Abby. Sometimes
it’s hard for people to be honest with themselves and with others. I don’t
think James really knows what he wants. He’s several years younger than me.”
Which
I sometimes fail to take into account when it comes to getting frustrated with
him.

“Really?” Abby remarked. “He
doesn’t look that much younger!”

Sarah smiled at her
daughter’s unintentional compliment. “He’s actually only 29. I’d like to
think I look a little younger than 36,” Sarah laughed.

“Go Mom! Does that
make you a cougar?” she asked innocently.

Alright, now that stings
a bit.
 “Oh, Abby! Where
did you hear that term?” she shook her head. “And no it doesn’t make me a
cougar, silly girl! Cougars are women in their 40’s dating guys in their 20’s
or younger. It’s like a 20 year age difference, not 7. Give me a few years,
alright?” She laughed again, already feeling her heart lighten.

Abby looked sheepish for
a moment trying to remember where she’d learned about cougars and why in the world
she accused her mother of being one. She determined it was better to gloss over
it. “James seems like a great guy,” she said. “I’m sure if he really cares for
you...if it’s meant to be...you’ll hear from him soon.”

Words of wisdom from a
15-year-old
...
from the mouths of
babes
, Sarah considered. She squeezed her daughter’s hand again, the
maturity she’d just displayed taking her breath away a little bit. A little
vision of her pixie face framed by long honey-colored pigtails and a smattering
of freckles flashed across her mind. She could barely reconcile that vision
with the half-grown woman sitting beside her. 
Why didn’t anyone tell me
how bittersweet motherhood is?

And with that thought,
the tears started again. She mouthed the words “thank you” to her daughter
and squeezed her hand again.  

“You should call Rachel
back,” Abby suggested. “She worries about you, you know.”

It was hard for Sarah to
accept the idea of anyone worrying about her. As hard as she tried to be
independent and self-reliant; she didn’t like thinking there was a crack in the
veneer. Now she had three people if she counted her mother (what mother didn’t
worry about her children?) and possibly four if Pawel was included, worrying
about her and all because of one man. She shook her head, still not
understanding why James had this effect on her.

Later when she finally
had the energy to tackle taco preparation, she felt a dull ache in her lower
abdomen. 
Ugh, my period
, she observed from the privacy of her
bathroom, rummaging through her cabinets for the box of tampons she had shoved
to the back at the end of her last cycle. 
I should have known my
hormones had a role in this
. As she went to find the bottle of ibuprofen
she noticed her phone was flashing with a text.

From James:
hey...everything
is fine...been busy. miss you

***

   
       
The mountain looms in
the sky like Jupiter. At its base perky white daisies wink merrily around a
rolling stream, all peace and safety, but the peak of the giant is speaking to me.
“Climb me. Scale me. Conquer me,” it calls out across the
heavens, its booming voice thundering through the valley. I’ve never felt
so compelled despite my senses screeching warnings in high-pitched terror. But
I can’t ignore the giant’s command, its presence, drawing me to its snow-capped
summit, a granite emperor rising from a misty throne, beckoning my soul.

She awoke to a body
pressed against hers, an arm draped around her waist, and a leg slung over her
hip. She felt warm breaths falling against her neck and wanted nothing more
than to sink back down into the pillows but her bladder had other plans. She
tried to maneuver her body out from under the other one but his limbs were like
lead. She slowly shifted her hips while grabbing his calf, attempting to
lift it, foiled by its weight. She wiggled and gradually slid out from under
his leg, then had a slightly easier time freeing herself from his arm.

She still wasn’t used to
navigating James’ house in the dark. She’d driven over very late that
night after a strained text conversation and never really got her bearings,
she’d been so upset over his inability to muster any consideration for her hurt
feelings. She made the drive because her heart ached so badly she knew she
wouldn’t be able to get to sleep without talking to him in person. She hated
the tension, the uncertainty.
Are we breaking up?
the question hung in
the air like a wave reaching its crest.
Can
you break up if you’re not really together?

The conversation was
still ringing in her ears. “I don’t understand what you do all day,” Sarah had
complained. “I don’t understand why it’s so challenging to take ten seconds to
respond to a text.”  She didn’t even care that her tone was cold and
accusatory. She was tired of his bad behavior and of feeling like she was
riding an emotional roller coaster of his design and operation.

“What do you mean ‘what
I do all day?’” he had retorted. “I work a full-time job, same as you. I
get up at 0515, I’m ready to go by 0545, PT at 0630. I run four miles and
then at 0800 I’m in the office. I accomplish more in those first two hours than
most people do all day. At 1000 I have class so I have to drive to campus.
After class I hit the gym.” His blue eyes had glared at her like they had
shards of ice buried in them. “Is that enough of a breakdown or do you need to
know when I use the restroom too?”

“I don’t need your
itinerary,” Sarah had replied, her voice still cool but the emotion was swelling,
threatening to surge. “I just feel like I’m an afterthought to you. I
don’t like going two days without hearing from you. I think about you all the
time. Do you ever think about me when we’re apart?” By the last sentence she
was trembling.

“Of course I do,” James
had replied, softening, his body gravitating toward hers. He had pulled her
into his arms and she immediately yielded, strong sobs jerking through her and
the tears erupting onto his chest. “I’m not sure why I have these walls up, Sarah.
I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.” 

Later, after they’d both
calmed and shared about their weeks, she had apologized, “I don’t know why I
get so emotional about you. I just feel really deeply I guess.”

He had kissed the top of
her head and pulled her into his bedroom. That was the last thing she
remembered before drifting off in his arms. Now she was tiptoeing through the
stillness of his house wondering why he’d chosen to answer her last statement
with a kiss instead of words. When she reached the bedroom, he’d rolled over so
that his back faced her. 
It’s always two steps forward and then a
retreat
, she thought, seeing the symbolism in his position.
This is a
war I will never win.

She started to fumble
for her purse and keys and managed to trip over a book he had tossed on the rug
so that one corner was submerged under the bed and the other under a mound of
clothes.
I thought he was a neat freak from the time I was over here before
,
she surveyed.
Must have been trying to impress me. 
She slipped her
shoes on and made her way toward the door when suddenly his voice broke the
silence, “Where are you going?”

Her heart leapt at the
sound of him. He had turned over and now that she had adjusted to the darkness
she could feel his eyes bore through her. “I think it’s better if I just
leave,” she said.

He sat up, groggy and
somewhat exasperated. “I thought we worked all this out a couple of hours ago,”
he groaned.

Sarah sighed, unsure if
she had the energy to till this soil again. She felt like he was going to
continue to make empty promises and say what she wanted to hear, but his
actions would keep betraying her faith in him. 
He’s a baby. He doesn’t
know how to give.

 
“Come back to bed, please?” he asked, his voice sounding smaller
than usual, with a twinge of desperation. She was frozen between the bed
and the door, both options seeming equally valid and equally impossible. He
paused a beat. “Sarah,” he pled, “come lie down with me.”

Those words.
With me
.
They pulled. She felt his usually concealed tenderness seep out and guide
her body toward him. In seconds her face was buried in his chest hair, both of
his arms around her, his warmth filtrating through her like oxygen in her
cells.
Why does it always feel like everything is perfect when I’m right
here? And so wrong when I’m not?

***

   
       
Rachel stood on the
beige carpeted pedestal in the middle of the bridal shop surrounded by mirrors.
Peering from her angle on the sidelines, Sarah could see a hundred Rachels
primping and posing, hands on her hips, adjusting the veil. She could hardly
believe she was witnessing her friend in a white dress.

“Well, what do you
think?” she queried, her face aglow.

Sarah smiled. “I didn’t
picture you wearing white, to be honest,” she began, “but that style is very
flattering on you. I really like it.”

“I didn’t picture white
either,” Rachel admitted, “but stranger things have happened, right?” She smoothed
the satin around her hips. The dress fit her like a glove, like it was made for
her, with a plunging V neckline accented with tiny pearls and rhinestones and a
short train attached to the basque waist that curled around her bare feet. “This
would look so much better with heels though. Oh!” she gasped suddenly, her voice
quivering with excitement. “White leather lace-up boots with a stiletto heel!”

The saleslady returned
with four purple dresses in a similar style. “These are the bridesmaids
dresses,” she explained, handing them to Sarah.  

Soon Sarah was standing
beside Rachel on the pedestal, amethyst satin draped over her curves. The dress
had a ruched bodice and a neckline that echoed the bridal gown’s. The bodice stopped
slightly above her natural waistline and was accented with a rhinestone clip
where the material was gathered and then floated away from her body all the way
to the floor. She liked the way the deep purple looked with her ivory skin and
dark hair. She felt a little like royalty, soon wondering
What would
James think of it?
She thought for a moment about whether or not James
would still be in the picture in June for the wedding.
Would he fly to
Colorado to be my date?

“Well?” Rachel asked
expectantly. “Are we gorgeous or what?”

“And you’re sure you
want purple, right?” Sarah questioned, “Not the deep red we talked about?”

Rachel nodded. “I
thought the red might be too clashy with the rocks in Garden of the Gods. The
purple is perfect! ‘Purple mountains’ majesty!’” she quoted from the
patriotic song.

Sarah laughed, “Of
course. Well, I love the cut. I feel beautiful!”

As if reading her
earlier thoughts, Rachel remarked, “Just wait till James sees you in that,
Lovechop!  Then he’ll want to walk you down the aisle for sure.” She
winked.

Sarah could not allow
herself to hope that far in the future.

***

   
       
Sarah
was still shaking her head in disbelief at the text message glowing from her
phone.  
Come to dinner with me tonight? Want to celebrate
. She
reread it multiple times to make sure it was really from James and not Pawel.

Sure. What did you have
in mind? Can’t stay out too late on a school night,
she replied.

NP.  I’ll pick you
up at 6.

Sarah barely had enough
time to grab a quick shower and throw on her slim black pencil skirt, tall
black leather boots and a low cut wine-colored sweater. She surveyed her
appearance in the full length mirror on her closet door before heading out. She
felt bloated and puffy, having picked up a few pounds over the holidays and
...ugh...retaining
water from my period.
 
I don’t know what he could possibly see in
me,
she thought, shaking her head to try to get the image of her reflection
out of her mind.

Owen called up to
announce that James had arrived before she had a chance to fret any more about
her weight. She traipsed down the stairs to see Owen showing James some of his
LEGO creations. She studied him for a moment before he noticed she’d arrived.
James
is either completely enthralled by Owen or one hell of an actor
, she observed,
grabbing her coat from the hooks near the back door. “Ready?”  she
called to James who looked startled until he drank in her image and a wide grin
spread across his face.

She instructed Owen and
Abby, “Be good. I’ll be back before bedtime.”  

“You look beautiful,” he
said and kissed her on the cheek. She turned just in time to see Abby wink at
her.

Because it was a
weeknight, the Italian restaurant James chose was fairly empty. They shared a
booth constructed of rich, dark wood in the back corner. The server looked
familiar, and Sarah was fairly certain he had been one of her students a few
semesters back. James waited till after they’d ordered and been served
their wine before telling her what they were celebrating. “I wanted to
propose a toast,” he smiled, his eyes glinting in the soft, low lighting.
 

“Right,” Sarah said, her
nerves tingling, weary of reviewing all the possibilities. “So what are we
celebrating?”

“I have some exciting
work news,” James explained. He was enjoying the expectant look emanating from
Sarah’s dark eyes, watching her suspense mounting. When he was sure she was
nearly ready to explode from anticipation he said, “I got a promotion.”

“Oh yeah?  James,
that’s wonderful news! What kind of promotion?” She felt warm pride surge
through her for moments and then...it hit her like a ton of bricks:
he’s
going to leave
. She tried to keep the color from draining from her face. Every
intuitive fiber of her being was crying out that she was going to lose him.

He didn’t seem to
notice. “I’m being commissioned,” he said, beaming. She’d never seen him
so animated.

“What does that mean
exactly? I’m sorry, I’m completely ignorant when it comes to military matters,”
she apologized.

“I’m being commissioned
to be an officer. It’s a pretty big deal. There will be a ceremony, which
is what I wanted to ask you about.” His eyes were wide and sparkling.

Sarah’s synapses were
confused, unsure which direction to fire.
Relief? Is there something more?
“What
is it, darling?”

“I want you to come to
my commissioning ceremony,” he smiled, “If you can, I mean. You could do
the pinning....if you wanted to.” He cleared his throat, “And if it works with
 
your schedule and all that.”

Her head was spinning. She
had no idea what he was talking about but she nodded. “When is it?”

“Next week,” he replied. “It’ll
be on campus,
           
hopefully not
during one of your classes. Owen and Abby can come too if they want.”

“Oh, James, this is
really exciting!” 
It is, right?
she thought. She would have to
do some research to find out what the ceremony was...what pinning meant. 
He
certainly looks as if
...she studied his face...
he’s glowing with
excitement. Boyish and...on top of the world.  Like he’s just been crowned
king.
“Oh!  I should propose the toast!” she gushed, raising her
glass, the red wine swirling with her sudden movement.

He grinned and raised
his glass more slowly, deliberately, his head tilted, waiting expectantly to
hear her smooth voice sprinkle a silvery shower of admiration over him. Sarah
could feel the pressure bearing down on her, wrapped around his grin...
and
when am I at a loss for words?
she asked, wondering where the hell her Auto
Pilot was. She cleared her throat and went for it: “Here’s to the US Army for
recognizing talent, strength, drive and initiative when they see it. Who says
‘Military Intelligence’ is an oxymoron?” She paused for a moment to giggle at
her joke, feeling her natural ease return. And then with her most earnest
sincerity: “And here’s to you, James, my Officer and Gentleman, with my very
best wishes for a long, fruitful and illustrious career. I’m so proud of you,
darling!”