A Christmas to Remember (21 page)

Joyce smiled with pride at her son and took the two children by their hands. “Tell your daddy goodnight,” she said, her voice a little broken from emotion. The kids both said goodnight as they walked upstairs.

Then it was just Carrie and Adam left in the hallway. Looking at him right then, she wanted to grab his hands, hold them, kiss his lips. When he let his soft side show, like he had just now with the children, he was so attractive to her that she could hardly keep herself in check. With that tiny gesture—just talking to his children like he had—he’d filled her with hope.

There was a loaded silence between them. Could he sense what she was thinking? Finally, he said, “Want to go into the kitchen with everyone? I think I hear Gramps at the table. He probably has a game going.” He smiled, his expression still gentle like it had been with the children. She didn’t want to leave him, but she wanted to check on Sharon. Sharon was always apart from them, always isolated. After hearing about her depression, Carrie worried about her.

“I’m just going to change into something comfortable first,” she said.

Adam nodded. “I have to pop in to my office anyway. I’ll be back in a few.”

With resolve, she left him and went upstairs to check on Adam’s sister. She peeked into Sharon’s room. She gestured for Carrie to come in.

Sharon had been staying in one of the guest rooms at the opposite end of the house, and Carrie hadn’t spent much time at that end. The room was bright and cheery—a good choice for someone like Sharon because it was hard to be sad in a room like that. The bed was a four-poster like hers, but with a navy and yellow flowered bedspread and matching curtains. Sharon sat down on the bed, her expression inquisitive. As Carrie looked at her, she realized that Sharon’s mouth was never set in a smile or even a grin. Her neutral expression however was such an improvement from her usual sadness that it seemed like she was smiling when really she wasn’t.

Carrie wasn’t sure how to start a conversation with Sharon, and she really didn’t even know what she wanted to say. She just wanted to give Sharon a chance to speak her mind and let some of the load off her chest.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

There was a long pause, as Sharon toyed with her fingers, running her nail along the cuticle of her other hand. “You know, Adam was my best friend growing up,” she said without warning.

In that instant, she was glad that she’d come to talk to Sharon tonight. It was clear now that she wanted to talk to someone. Carrie waited, knowing that she probably had more to say—she could feel it—so she sat in silence, until Sharon continued. And it wasn’t long until she did.

“We did everything together. We were inseparable. He’s such a gentle soul—he gets hurt so easily. You’d never know it, but beneath that controlled exterior, he’s the most kindhearted, mild-mannered person I know.”

She didn’t have to imagine it. Carrie had seen it right before her eyes tonight.

“When his marriage was over, he was devastated. I felt terrible for him. But instead of turning to us, he turned to work. He pushed all of us away—including his kids. I can’t have kids of my own. It’s just not working. I’ve done all I know how to do, and nothing has worked. Adam has children. He has an entire family who love him. For God’s sake, we all came to his house for Christmas to try and get him to see that, but all he wants to do is work. He’s taking everything he has for granted—all for that stupid brewery. I wish he’d see that he has everything
I’ve
ever wanted, and he’s blowing it. When it comes to living life, he’s doing it all wrong. And I miss him. I miss him so much.”

Carrie was certainly going to miss him. She couldn’t even let herself think about that day because she honestly didn’t know how to handle it. She’d had a glimpse of everything
she’d
ever wanted, and leaving it would probably be the hardest thing she’d ever done.

“I’m trying to make him see it your way,” Carrie said. “I think the same thing that you do. And sometimes, Sharon, I think he’s getting it, but then he turns right around and does something to the contrary. But,” she held up a finger to drive the point home, “I saw a glimpse of what he was capable of tonight. He talked to the children after you went upstairs. It was a baby step, I know, but it was amazing.”

“But will it continue? He’s off work tonight, and he doesn’t have to choose. I have a sinking feeling that when he has to decide between work and the kids, he’ll choose work.” Sharon shook her head. “He makes me so mad that I didn’t want to be here. It’s only for Mom’s sake that I ever come out of the room at all. I see his beautiful children, the happiness that’s waiting there for him, and he can’t see what’s right in front of him. I have too much I’m dealing with personally to want to deal with him, too. Mom made me come; she shamed me into it. I tried to tell her that it wouldn’t change things, but she’s always so optimistic.”

“I’m so sorry about what you’re going through,” she said. “I suppose I’m a little optimistic too. I thought I could change him.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, Sharon smiled. It had been a long time since Carrie had had a girlfriend to chat with. Perhaps that was why she read so many of her self-help books. She was always looking for a way to make her life work. What she realized as she sat with Sharon was that it takes relationships and people to make life work. The answers weren’t always right there in print; sometimes she would have to live a little, take risks, feel her way around to find the answers.

She felt a strange sort of bond with Sharon now. “Would you like to go downstairs with me? We can be a united front,” she winked. Sharon stood up and walked with her to the door. She shook her head knowingly at Carrie. Together, both smiling, they headed downstairs.

P
ay attention
to every life event and explicitly internalize what you love about that event.

“I’m the only one who can beat Gramps,” Adam said, his mouth turning upward into a playful grin that reached his eyes. Adam sat down next to Sharon as Walter dealt Carrie a hand. Carrie fanned out her cards and then pretended to conceal them by turning them over on the table, but really, she was hiding the fact that she couldn’t hold them steady. She was too keyed up about Adam’s behavior tonight. He’d not checked his phone once during the play, he’d had a heartfelt conversation with his children after, and now he was playing cards. She could hardly contain her excitement.

“
You
can beat Walter?” Carrie said. She hadn’t seen him act like this before. She couldn’t pinpoint one particular thing, but there was something different about him. He seemed happy, blithe. Even when they were shopping, he hadn’t been like this, and she had to wonder why. What had made him leave his office tonight? He’d never just
popped in
to his office before. That’s what he’d said—He had to
pop in
. What had caused this sudden moment of playfulness? The excitement ran wild inside her. His behavior was so unexpected, but it filled her with happiness. She wanted to hug him.

“Well,” Walter said, making a bridge with the cards and letting them cascade down into a perfect pile on the table. “Now I finally have a little competition.” He winked at Adam. Carrie noticed how no one seemed to point out the fact that Adam was finally joining the family instead of working. They could have been angry with him for ignoring them for so long, but they weren’t. They were happy, smiling.

Bruce stood up. “How many beers do we need?” he asked. A few hands went up, including Adam’s. Sharon turned and looked at him, thoughts clear on her face. She didn’t raise her hand. “Carrie?” Bruce said, and she realized that she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts. She was worrying for Adam and Sharon, wishing they could resolve their differences, wondering how long it had been since they’d sat next to each other and shared anything at all.

“Yes, please,” she said in response to the encouraging smile she received from Adam.

As Bruce got the beers, Walter said, “Ace is low.” Then, he set the deck in the center of the table. “We’ll start with Adam. Let’s give him a running start before I take over for the win.”

“You’d better shuffle that deck a little more when I’m at the table,” he said, chewing on a smile.

“Oh, here we go,” Sharon said with an eye roll. “Do you know how long I’ve been hearing this sort of competition between these two?” She wasn’t yet smiling, but Carrie could tell that she had loosened up a bit seeing her brother join them at the table. It really seemed like Adam was trying, and maybe Sharon could sense that.

Bruce opened the beers and set them in front of each person as Carrie studied her cards. The game was much more difficult to play with Adam near her. She took in his hands when he reached for his beer, how the bottle set against his lips as he took a swig, the way he leaned back casually in his chair. She wanted to focus, but his presence was making it tricky. Before she knew it, she’d played most of her cards and nearly finished her beer.

Adam, who could easily peek over and view Sharon’s cards, allowed his gaze to shift to Sharon’s hand as he leaned back in his chair. It was subtle, but Carrie could see him thinking. He set down a run, and as he did, Sharon perked up, her shoulders rising in interest, and Carrie knew by his face what he’d done: Adam had just helped his sister win the game. When her turn came around, Sharon added her two cards to Adam’s run, and smiled—a big, happy smile.

Walter tossed his cards onto the table in mock annoyance. Then, he pointed to Adam, who had three cards remaining. “Ha! She got you!” he said. But as they were dropping their cards onto the table to clean up, Carrie noticed that Adam’s cards were a perfect run. He’d held onto them on purpose. He could’ve won, but he chose to help Sharon win instead.

Adam caught Carrie looking at the cards, and smiled sheepishly. He locked eyes with her and she couldn’t look away. It caused a rush of excitement so strong that the hair on her arms stood up. She discreetly rubbed her arms. She wondered if anyone else noticed how long they’d been looking at each other, or the smile twitching around his lips. It was almost like he wanted to tell her something, like someone with a secret that was almost killing him to keep quiet.

He finally pulled his eyes from her, but only because Olivia was standing in the doorway. She had on the white nightgown with pink roses, her bare ankles and feet peeking out from beneath. Her hair was down with strands puffed out in every direction. She rubbed her eye with the same hand that held her blanket. “I had a bad dream,” she said to her daddy. “Can Carrie lie down with me?”

Carrie worried. In front of his whole family, Olivia had asked her father for the nanny to put her down to bed. While normally, in a healthy family situation, this may have been laughed off, Carrie knew what it implied in this particular instance, and it made her concerned for Adam. She had never felt anything quite like this before—a mixture of worry for Adam that his feelings would get hurt, mortification for him because his family had been witness to his daughter asking for the nanny instead of him, sadness for Olivia that she preferred the nanny to her own father, and the embarrassment that the family must feel knowing why Olivia had chosen Carrie.

“I don’t mind if your daddy puts you to bed tonight. It would be okay with me,” Carrie offered from her spot at the table, trying to improve the situation.

Olivia padded over to Carrie and crawled up onto her lap, her pink blanket trailing down to the floor. “But I want you to put me to bed. Not Daddy.” Carrie knew that even though Adam had given a little of himself tonight, it wasn’t enough to make a big change. Olivia had a bad dream. She wanted someone she knew could comfort her, and her father had never been that person.

The silence in the room was palpable. Mostly, she worried for Adam. She didn’t want him to pull back after he’d come so far. He’d been positively happy tonight, and she didn’t want anything to ruin it. He really needed a boost after he’d chosen family over work, and this was not helping. She felt his loss of face in front of his family. They all knew the truth—that he didn’t spend enough time with his children.

Carrie took in a deep breath to clear her mind. Once again, she had to go with her instincts. “I really like talking to your daddy,” she said carefully. “Do you think he could come with us? For me?” She waited on pins and needles, hoping that Olivia would answer favorably. One never knew with children because they weren’t interested in the social delicacy of the situation. They just answered honestly. Carrie was relying on Olivia’s natural sociability here.

“Okay,” she said, pushing herself off Carrie’s lap. She hopped down and took her hand. Then, together, they walked over to Adam, and Olivia took his hand as well. Carrie glanced back at the table to get their reaction. Had she done the right thing? Everyone seemed pleased with Joyce and Sharon smiling the biggest of all. Carrie could feel the tension lift right off her shoulders as the three of them walked Olivia upstairs to her room.

B
e in the moment
.

“What do you like to talk about with Daddy?” Olivia asked Carrie, crawling under her blankets as Adam pulled them up for her. Adam was quiet. He seemed to be listening. Perhaps Carrie’s answer was as interesting to him as it was to Olivia. He sat down on the foot of her bed, and Carrie kneeled down beside her.

“Oh, anything, really,” she smiled in Adam’s direction. It looked as though Carrie were just trying to make conversation with Olivia, but she was answering honestly. She did love to talk to Adam, and she could talk to him about anything—it wouldn’t matter. She had so many things she wanted to know: What had his childhood been like? What did he enjoy doing for fun? Had he read all those books in his office? What was his favorite ice cream flavor? Was he ticklish? There were so many questions that she could spend a lifetime asking them all.

“Do you know what he’s really good at doing?” Carrie asked with mock enthusiasm.

“Making beer!” Olivia said a little too loudly, clearly proud that she knew the answer.

Carrie and Adam both laughed at the same time, and Carrie had to cover her mouth to keep the sound from traveling down the hallway. This was one of those moments she wouldn’t soon forget. Being with the Fletchers was as comfortable as being with her own family. It didn’t matter that she was in an enormous house with a man and children she hadn’t known very long.

It reminded Carrie of when she had been looking for her first car. She’d been on a budget, so she had limited choices, and the options were worrying her. She sat in a few cars, put her hands on the steering wheel, and tried to imagine herself in each. Everyone was about the same. But then, out of nowhere, she found a Honda that someone was selling dirt cheap because they were moving overseas and wanted to get rid of it quickly. She immediately went over to the house with the car and sat down in the seat. She’d never been in a Honda before, but somehow, all the buttons were right where she’d imagined they’d be, the seat fit her like a glove, and she just knew. It felt like she’d had that car all her life. That’s how the Fletcher family felt to her—familiar.

Carrie shook her head, still grinning. “Know what else he’s good at?”

“No.” Olivia looked over at her Daddy, her eyes droopy from lack of sleep.

“He’s great at reading stories.” Adam showed his surprise but then contorted his features to a smile for Olivia. Okay, she lied just a little, but it was the perfect opportunity to get him involved, really involved, with no work demands. “Can we find a story?”

Olivia extended a tiny finger toward her bookshelf. “How about that one, the princess one?” Carrie pulled a paperback off the shelf and handed it to Adam. He lay down on top of the covers next to Olivia and opened the book as Carrie sat down on the floor next to him. She was so close to his face that she could see the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, the slight stubble that revealed itself at the end of every day, the way his chest moved up and down with his breath. He started reading, the words coming out, but Carrie wasn’t comprehending them. She was too busy thinking about him, about what it would be like to turn over in bed and see the face she was seeing now. She noticed how small the book looked in his strong hands and the way he had to hold his thumbs to the side so they didn’t cover the pictures. His words were finally floating into her consciousness, and she realized that he was quite a natural at reading to children. Olivia snuggled into his side just like Carrie wished she could.

When he got to the last page, Adam kept his body still, turning only his head as he looked at his daughter. Olivia was asleep. Her head rested on his bicep, and her limbs were wrapped around his arm. Gently, he kissed the top of her head. It was such a small gesture, but the impact of it caused a lump in Carrie’s throat. He turned to her, their faces too close. He paused just a second. He seemed to be considering something, deliberating. Her head was cloudy, woozy from the thrill of the moment.

“How do I get up?” he mouthed.

Carrie didn’t want him to get up. She didn’t want to let the moment end. Olivia wasn’t her own daughter, and Adam wasn’t her husband, but it felt as right and easy as if they were. Carefully, she leaned over Adam and gently unwrapped one of Olivia’s arms from him. When she did, she could feel the warmth of his body underneath her, the presence of him assaulting her senses. She tried not to let it get the best of her as she slid her hand between Olivia’s cheek and Adam’s arm and gently scooted Olivia onto her pillow. Carrie’s hair brushed Adam’s face by accident, and, with his free hand, he scratched the scruff on his chin and then pushed her hair away. When he did, he held the strands of hair between his two fingers for a moment and she almost couldn’t breathe.

Olivia was safely on her pillow and Adam slid off the bed, standing up and facing Carrie. He was looking at her differently. She’d never seen that expression before, and it made her feel elated and terrified and relieved all at the same time. She thought she knew what his look was saying, but she was too worried that she was wrong. It looked to her like he felt something for her, like he might even want to kiss her, which scared her to death. Was she completely off base? If so, what was he trying to tell her?

She made eye contact in an attempt to tell him in their unspoken language that she welcomed whatever he was thinking. He took a step closer to her, looking down at her now because of his proximity. All the signs were pointing in the right direction, but she still had so many questions. She felt something for Adam—something she’d never felt before—but she didn’t trust her instincts.

He leaned forward an infinitesimal amount, just enough to make the gesture noticeable. It was as if he were testing the waters. She worried, suddenly, what to do with her hands, how to manage her emotions. If she did what she felt she should do, would it be right? She wanted to grab him by the waistband of his trousers and pull him to her, kiss him, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. What was a first kiss supposed to be like with someone like him? What if she crossed some sort of line? All the thoughts were racing inside her mind, flying back and forth, making it hard to focus on any one thought. She felt her hands begin to tremble; her breath became shallow. Adam reached out and touched her arm, sending shivers right up her spine.

There was a creak of the door hinges, and both of them nearly jumped away from each other. David was standing in the doorway, a groggy look on his face. Carrie rushed forward and ushered him into the hallway, Adam following behind, closing the door to Olivia’s room.

“I heard Olivia,” he said. “I tried to go back to sleep but then I heard Daddy.” They entered his room and David crawled back into bed. “Will you read to me too, Daddy?” David was already closing his eyes, snuggling down into his pillow. Adam pulled a book off his shelf and sat down next to him. David was asleep before the third page, but Adam continued to read until the entire book was finished.

Carrie took in slow, steady breaths to try and calm the emotions that had been stirred up in Olivia’s room.
Had
he been ready to kiss her? Perhaps she’d gotten it wrong. Maybe he was just going to thank her for the way she’d handled Olivia.

If they’d had a moment at all, it had clearly passed when he stood up this time, but Carrie didn’t want their time to end. She mentally scrambled for a way to keep him from going downstairs. She didn’t want to have to mingle with his family when she was in this state of mind. She wouldn’t be able to think of anything other than the few precious moments she’d just spent with Adam. Then she remembered! When they got to the hallway, she whispered, “We still have to wrap the Christmas presents. While we’re upstairs, and we know the kids are asleep, should we wrap some of them?”

It was almost as if he sensed her motives because he responded with a slow nod, his eyes moving around her face. Then, he put his hand on the small of her back and led her down the hallway. “The presents are in the closet in my bedroom,” he whispered as they walked. She had to work to focus on his words because all she could process was the warmth of his hand on her back. The whole way she analyzed the placement of his hand. She wasn’t about to fall, she knew how to get around the house—there was no other reason for him to touch her except to be affectionate. She tried to rationalize the moments they’d had tonight, thinking that there must be some explanation for them, something other than what she was feeling, because that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he make advances toward her—the nanny—when he could be with anyone? Someone like Andy.

When they came to a stop, she realized that she was about to enter his bedroom. She’d never been in it before. Rose, the cleaning lady, always took care of everything in there, so Carrie had no reason to go in at all. There was something so personal about the place where Adam slept, where he closed his eyes and became vulnerable to everything around him.

The bed was king-sized, sleek, stained in a mahogany color, the crisp white duvet and shams standing out like snow against the blue-gray walls surrounding. Carrie pictured what it would be like to be under that fluffy cover, her head sinking into the down pillow, Adam beside her, his hand on her waist. She could feel the splotches rising up her neck at the mental image. She turned away from the bed to rid her mind of the thoughts and found herself directly in front of Adam. He looked down at her, a very slight smile on his lips.

“I set the bags over there,” he said, pointing to a leather armchair in the corner. The chair’s surface was nearly hidden from the colossal pile of bags. She’d been with Adam as he’d purchased everything in them down to the red wrapping paper and silver ribbons.

“Do we have tape and scissors?” she asked, using all her inner strength to keep her focus on the presents. She wanted to look back at Adam to see what else he had to say in their new silent language. She wanted to feel his eyes on her, to see that smile, but she kept her eyes on the bags, rummaging around inside them and pretending to be interested in them.

“I’ll go and get some,” Adam said.

After he left, she allowed herself to look around the room once more. She thought how the house was so huge, so perfectly decorated that it almost seemed to be in juxtaposition to Adam. He was refined and slightly formal, but underneath that, when she thought about where he’d come from—that small town in North Carolina—the fact that he was a beer maker, how he’d played sports as a kid—it all seemed too laid-back for a place like this.

Carrie pondered the type of house she’d like to have. There’d be a long front porch—the kind she’d had as a kid, a place where she could count the imperfections in the wooden steps from all the years of little feet, bikes, and toys hitting them. Her house would have an oak tree with a swing and a patch underneath where the grass wouldn’t grow because the children had scraped away the last of the seed, swinging on the warm days until sunset. She’d have a giant wood-burning fireplace inside for roasting marshmallows and warming sock feet, and she’d have an old sofa with her basket of quilts that her grandmother had made nearby for wrapping up on cold days. She wondered if Adam had ever thought about that kind of house before.

“Will these do?” he said, upon return, standing in the doorway. He held out a roll of tape and a pair of small scissors. “They were in my office. I have more in the kitchen if you need it.”

“That’s fine,” she said.

He walked in and sat on the floor next to her as she unrolled a long, wide piece of red wrapping paper. “What were you thinking about just now? You looked very serious.”

She sat silently for a moment, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to tell him because, for one, she’d have to admit that she was thinking about him, and two, she didn’t want to be rude about his home. She tried to find a polite way to put her thoughts into words. “I was just wondering what your favorite part of this house is.” It wasn’t entirely on the mark, but she had been thinking about her own favorite parts of the home she’d like to have one day.

Carrie slid the scissors along the inside of the paper, cutting a perfect line, the paper falling loose from the roll in her hands.

The skin between his eyes wrinkled in thought. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve never thought about it.”

“Surely there was something that made you buy it,” she pressed.

“Gwen and I picked it out together.”

Carrie reached into one of the bags and pulled out Olivia’s crown. She set it in the center of the large rectangle of wrapping paper. “So, if you could build your own house, what would it look like?”

“I don’t know, really.”

Carrie gestured for him to put his finger on the present to keep the paper from slipping as she taped it down.

He put his finger on the top, holding it in place. “As long as it has a desk…”

“…that turns into a card table,” she said, finishing his sentence.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes on her. When his laughter had gone, his smile remained. He watched her as she wrapped all the presents. It made her happy, content. When she was finally done, she looked at the pile of red, shiny presents, and she wished that she had something to give him, but she had no idea what she could possibly give him that he didn’t already have.