The Mountains Trilogy (Boxed Set) Page 8

  Why am I so sad? she chided herself. I have made a new friend and we had great sex. There is no reason to be upset. I think I’m still sad for Rachel, she reasoned. She texted her friend and asked if she and her son would like to join her brood for movie and pizza night. Rachel seemed relieved for the invitation; she certainly wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity for very long.

  That night Sarah sat in her living room with her favorite people and embraced a warm feeling of contentment. See, I don’t need a man, she thought confidently. I have everything I could ever want right here in this room. Even the cat had joined in and was sitting on the arm of the sofa. Sarah looked at the beaming smiles of Abby and Owen as they watched the comedy Owen had chosen and stuffed their faces with the rare treat of junk food. She spied Rachel from across the room and despite some dark circles and puffiness under her eyes, she looked amazingly peaceful curled up on the couch sharing a blanket with her son. I’m a lucky woman, Sarah thought, to have a friend like Rachel and two smart, healthy, happy kids...I’m truly blessed.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  The Admittance

  The next two months were a whirlwind of lectures, grading, committee meetings, journal article editing, and soccer games...punctuated by play dates with James. The weather was really the best indicator of the passage of time, Sarah realized. She’d been so absorbed in all her duties that she had nearly missed the changing of the leaves. When she finally felt acclimated to fall, winter was starting to nip at its heels. The leaves she shuffled through on her way to her office every day were becoming increasingly brown and brittle. November was bringing something else in addition to a chill in the air. It was reminding Sarah that she needed to slow down and take stock of what was happening before she felt out of control, a feeling she strived to avoid.

  Reviewing the weeks that had passed, Sarah had collected snapshots of joyful moments she wanted to pin up in her mental scrapbook. She’d have a picture of the scarlet and gold leaves raining down onto campus beneath azure, cloud-wisped skies. There’d be one capturing the thrill and exhilaration she and Owen shared when he made his first goal in a soccer game. Also included would be a photo from the Halloween party she and Rachel attended as Laverne and Shirley, right down to the curvy “L” embroidered on Sarah’s shirt. Finally, there’d be a candlelit still of James’ muscular frame hovered over her, propped up on his wrists with his triceps bulging, her nails dug into his back as he buried himself inside her so deep that she cried out his name.

  Every weekend James seemed to pop up on Sarah’s agenda. There wasn’t much communication in the interim, which Sarah had grown to expect. In many ways, she felt she knew James’ body much more intimately than his mind. Some days, she felt that was for the best. Other days, she had pangs of regret, wishing she’d pursued a more traditional dating relationship rather than rushing into a friends with benefits arrangement.

  Here was a man she was wildly physically attracted to, moderately intrigued about intellectually, and she was finally at a point in her life where she craved a deeper level of intimacy with someone of the opposite sex. Everything had converged to a peak and yet conditions didn’t seem right for climbing it. It’s too late for that now though, she conceded. And besides, he is too young. It would never work, she rationalized.

  Rachel had been a good, if not cold and detached, sounding board for Sarah regarding her relationship with James. Rachel was still recovering from her breakup with Mark, and was extremely vocal in discouraging Sarah from forming an emotional attachment to James. “He’s military,” she reasoned. “That means he’s not staying.” Sarah couldn’t disagree, but every time she was with him she felt the pull was a little stronger. Sometimes so strong that she considered just quitting while she was ahead, moving on before there was no turning back. But something compelled her to stay the course and she couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was beyond the amazing sexual chemistry they had. She was fascinated by a story yet told. It was only a matter of time before she discovered why it was that James McAllister had come into her life.

  He seemed less like a stranger the more she learned about him during their pillow talk. Most nights he visited, they’d enjoy two or three romps before finally collapsing from exhaustion and surrendering to slumber. Although his recovery time was fairly short, he seemed to enjoy conversing in between rounds. He was especially fond of totally catching her off guard with a deeply philosophical or scientific question like “Do you ever think it’s acceptable to kill a fellow human being?” Or, “Do you believe in evolution?”

  They’d have fascinating exchanges on myriad topics, which struck Sarah as odd since it seemed that mediated communication during their time apart was a huge challenge for him. She’d even teased him about it from time to time, “So you can communicate,” she remarked one night after he’d detailed a particularly long story for her. “Do you just save up all your words for when you see me in person or what?”

  James had given her one of his trademark smirks in response. “I am not much for phone calls or texting,” he replied. “I guess I just like the real thing so much better.” And with that he lifted her chin and pressed his lips against hers, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her down on top of him.

  “As usual I’m right! See how much better this is?” he asked.

  “How can I possibly argue with that logic?” she mused.

  That particular night as she nestled into the deliciously comfortable spot in the crevice of his arm, her cheek pressed against his chest muscles, she started to probe a little more deeply than she had before about his family and background. “Have you ever done anything else besides the Army?” she asked.

  “I wanted to,” he responded. “I always wanted to be an engineer, as a matter of fact, that’s what my degree is in.”

  Sarah sensed a “but...”

  “My dad really wanted me to go into the military. There was quite a bit of pressure, to be honest. It’s kind of family tradition...and well, my family is all about tradition,” he explained, not seeming to object to the line of questioning.

  “Oh yeah?” Sarah smirked. Her family was about the least traditional she’d ever known. She decided to not go there for the time being, preferring to play investigator a bit more. She loved these moments in which James let his guard down and allowed himself to be vulnerable. She was putting his puzzle pieces together. “How else is your family traditional?”

  James sensed the hint of sarcasm in her tone that she’d meant to disguise. “Well, Dr. Lynde, not everyone has a hippy-trippy-love-child-bearing, gay-son-loving mom like yours,” he laughed.

  Oh, apparently I have told him a little about my family already. And he remembered. Interesting. Good thing I’m not easily offended, she thought regarding his description of her mother.

  “My family is Irish Catholic,” he continued. “I went to Catholic school. That should explain a lot right there,” he offered and Sarah nodded, her hands lightly running up and down his back, her fingernails gently grazing his skin.

  “My mom stayed home and baked cookies. Dinner was on the table every night at 6 PM sharp. We moved around a lot but wherever we went, things were the same. I think because of the constant uprooting, my parents felt the need to have a lot of consistency and stability at home.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah agreed. “Kids need routines. So how is it now, with your family? Are you close?”

  James looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to come up with the right phrasing. “I love my family but I’m my own person. I’m sure my mom would have me married off with a slew of kids by now if she had her way. That’s kind of how it went with my sisters.”

  “Really? Tell me about them,” Sarah directed him. She sort of felt like the therapist and her bed was her couch. Something told her the therapist is not supposed to be in bed with the patient. Ah, but I’m not much for keeping with tradition, right? she answered her little internal voice.

&
nbsp; “I’m the oldest, as you know,” he started. “Patty is the middle child. She did have her wild days after high school and she dropped out of college, but then she got really religious and married this guy named John. He’s military too and they have four kids.”

  “FOUR?!” Sarah’s eyes grew wide, knowing that if she was younger than James she couldn’t be more than twenty-seven or so.

  James laughed at her reaction. “Yes, we like big families in the Midwest! She got married at 20, so in seven years she’s popped out four kids - despite my brother-in-law being deployed so frequently. Yeah, four kids, that sounds about right for the Bible Belt, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t be surprised if they had another before it’s all said and done!”

  “What about your youngest sister?” Sarah questioned, growing more intrigued by the moment. She considered her brother Adam and how he was unlikely to give her children any cousins. It was hard to imagine a big, traditional family when she’d never been part of one.

  “Allie is twenty-five,” James replied. “Married. One son, a daughter on the way around Christmas.”

  “So you’re the black sleep?” she observed. “The rebel who won’t settle down.”

  He was quiet for a moment, thinking about his role in his family. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replied, his voice sounding distant. Something about that stuck with Sarah. She felt there was a lot more he was holding back. Maybe someday she would get to uncover it. She could unearth, a little at a time, like she was chipping away at his story.

  But it’s James, she rationalized. He’s always holding back. Unless it’s sex. And then I get all of him.

  ***

  “Mom, what does an orgasm feel like?” Owen asked matter-of-factly as Sarah cleared the table of breakfast dishes on a sunny Saturday morning.

  Abby rolled her eyes but said nothing. Usually she balked at any question her brother posed about sex or bodily functions. Sarah took instant notice of her silence on the subject.

  As for Owen, Sarah was used to her son’s queries and didn’t seem the least bit shocked. She delivered the most sensible and non-erotic answer she could think of, “You know how it feels when you really need to sneeze and then you finally do? And it’s like ‘WHOA! I feel better?’ Kind of like a sense of relief but way, way better. Your whole body feels pleasure that comes in waves, very intense and close together at first, and then fading out after several seconds.”

  “Oh,” Owen replied thoughtfully, his dark eyes twinkling. “That sounds nice.”

  “It is,” Sarah assured him. She caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Abby smirking from behind her laptop. It had been a few months now since Sarah had found condoms in her daughter’s room, condoms supposedly for a health class assignment. Sarah was still rather skeptical, especially considering that Abby and Tyler seemed to be quite the item. But since then, her daughter’s smart mouth had taken a (possibly) temporary but wholeheartedly welcome reprieve, she was dressing more femininely, and her grades were higher than ever. So Sarah didn’t feel she could complain. And if she is having sex, at least she knows how to put a condom on a banana, right? she rationalized.

  Sarah found it interesting that as open as she was with her children, they refrained from posing the most difficult-to-answer questions. Yes, Owen liked to shock his sister and attempt to surprise or stump his mother with his precocious sex questions, but neither of her children ever probed into the family’s past, especially as it pertained to their fathers. Sarah would have answered any questions they had, but it seemed as if they sensed talking about it would be very emotionally draining for her. Perceptive kids, she noted. When they’re older, she promised herself, I will explain everything. She calculated how long it had been since either child had seen the only father figure they’d known. Three years? she concluded, mentally shaking her head in disgust.

  Rachel was on her way over for a girls day out which entailed pedicures while Abby watched the two younger boys. Rachel was all aglow over a new love interest and hardly mentioned Mark anymore, although she’d heard through a mutual friend that things had quickly fizzled out with Ashley AKA “Porn Girl,” as Rachel had dubbed her. Just as Sarah had predicted, Mark had made a couple of attempts at reconciling with Rachel, but her wounds healed and her resolve strengthened, she’d just ignored him.

  The New Guy was a musician, mid 30’s which made him a little more mature and age-appropriate, and he had a four year old daughter that he doted on fanatically. Sarah had met him at dinner the weekend before and thought he was a good match for her friend. Rachel had harped on her to invite James to join them, but Sarah didn’t feel they were ready for that. After all, other than the two times they’d had coffee, they had never been out in public together.

  Sarah had tried to explain to her friend the way things were with James, but Rachel didn’t understand why Sarah didn’t push for more. Sarah felt like they had the strangest dynamic she had ever experienced with a partner, and she was worried about losing him if she pushed too hard. It was a delicate balance.

  She felt intensely connected to him when he was there, in her bedroom, where their relationship lived. But outside of it, it was like she didn’t exist to him. Yes there were a few texts here and there, but even though he was only across campus from her, most of the time it seemed he was worlds away. And, in spite of him spending one night a week or so in her bed, Sarah always questioned whether it was the last time she would see him, especially considering how often he spoke of deploying again.

  To make her relationship with James seem even more unusual, Sarah could now use her new, budding relationship to contrast. It had all began very innocently and platonically with a visiting professor from another country spending a lot of time hanging out in her office, “shooting the shit” with her, which in academia involved words like “paradigm” and “microcosm” and names like “Foucault” and “Kafka.” One night after a late class he invited her to dinner, and knowing that her mother was dropping by to take the kids out for pizza, Sarah graciously accepted his invitation.

  She didn’t know whether to be exhilarated or exhausted from trying to keep up with Dr. Pawel Kowalczyk’s mental acrobatics. Not that James was simple - he was far from it - but being younger and having no letters after his name made him seem so much different than someone so worldly and as degreed as Pawel.

  Sarah studied Pawel’s warm, kind brown eyes deep set behind thick, smudged lenses and watched the way he pushed his lengthy gray-streaked dark hair off his forehead. He was the type of person who would take off his glasses and there’d be little red spots where they’d rubbed against the bridge of his nose. When they were off, he was so nearsighted that he wasn’t even himself.

  She liked his passion and the expression lines on his face. She liked his laugh and the way he would text her links to all sorts of articles to read, sometimes in the middle of the night when it was clear he was poring over his research in lieu of sleeping. He got what she did for a living - the research part of it - the student of human culture side - in a way James and most other men couldn’t. There was a camaraderie there that transcended any age or cultural barriers.

  She had been on three dates with Pawel so far and none had conflicted with time she spent with James, so she hadn’t told him. There was no precedent set for her to tell him. It really seemed ideal to have one partner to fulfill her physical needs and one to fulfill her intellectual ones.

  Speaking of contrasts, she thought, after three completely platonic dates, the only physical contact we’ve had was Pawel had clumsily pecking me on the cheek. She really didn’t think that lack of knowledge or experience was to blame for the awkwardness in his case, but rather the intimidation factor. More than one man had finally admitted to Sarah - after much cajoling - that she projected some very intense sexual vibes that had the power to arrest even the most secure of men.

  Although she preferred not to be the aggressor, every once in a while Sarah had to take the bull by the horns to counteract a partner
’s trepidation. After the clumsy peck, she’d lightly grasped Pawel’s chin and drew him in very slowly for a full-on-lips, open-mouthed kiss, their tongues just lightly brushing against each other. There, she had thought, that’s so much better.

  Sarah decided she was going to tell Rachel about Pawel during the pedicure. No description of a new suitor was complete without photographic evidence, so she had managed to snag a shot of him from his faculty web page and save it to her phone. “He has nice eyes,” Rachel observed during her first glimpse of the photo. “God, aren’t all those academic types stuffy though?” she questioned.

  “Am I stuffy?” Sarah retorted.

  “Touché,” replied her friend, studying the picture a bit more closely “It would be nice to run my fingers through hair like his. So you’ve got your G.I. James and your Dr. Smart Guy,” she laughed. “The best of both worlds!”

  “Amen to that!” Sarah concurred as she wiggled her freshly painted toes.

  “Want to do dinner with me and Jack next week for my birthday?” Rachel questioned, Jack being The New Guy. Knowing the answer would be yes, she quickly added: “Do you think you could bring a date with you? Pawel or James, whatever.”

  “So, in other words,” Sarah laughed, “I should just bring someone with a Y chromosome?”

  Rachel giggled. “Any guy will do, I suppose,” she replied. “Bonus points if he’s hot and into foursomes.”

  ***

  Rachel’s birthday dinner was the following week and Sarah first invited Pawel to join, but he was slated to be in Chicago for a conference where he’d be accepting an award for some research he recently published. Undaunted, Sarah decided to broach the subject with James that night during one of their intermissions.