A Christmas to Remember (17 page)

As she walked out of the room, Carrie remembered the desperate way that Adam had spoken in the playroom. He knew what Sharon wanted from him, but he didn’t know how to give her what she wanted or mend what was wrong between them. Carrie, too, wanted to help Sharon, but she didn’t know how either, nor did she feel it was her place. The tension in the room was thicker than the snow outside.

“Come on over, son, and have a seat. But grab us some beers on your way,” Walter said, patting the back of the empty chair next to him. “You too, Carrie.” Walter’s warm eyes, knowing smile, and gentle nature made it feel like he always knew the outcome of every argument, he was just waiting for everyone else to figure it out.

Adam grabbed three beers and set one in front of Carrie. He hadn’t asked if she wanted one, but she was glad for the gesture, because after what she’d just been through with Adam, it would certainly relax her a bit. She was pleased to see Adam was sitting down, a Salty Shockoe in his hand, because, secretly, she wanted to know what it felt like to be with him when he wasn’t pulled away by work, when she wasn’t demanding that he interact with his children. Their moment in the fort had brought them closer, she felt. She hadn’t forgotten the fact that he hadn’t bought a single present for his kids and Christmas was around the corner, but tonight, she just wanted to enjoy being with him. Perhaps he would enjoy himself as well.

“This snow is nice,” Walter said, “but I wish it would clear up so we could see Adam at his best. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in the yard with me.”

Carrie looked over at Adam for clarification, but he just took a swig of his beer, a smile playing on his lips.

“Adam chose to go away to a big, fancy university instead of one around home, but if he had stayed, he’d have played football. He was offered a scholarship to play, and he was a damn fine quarterback in high school. He could hit a target from the next town over with a football. You’d better have a ball somewhere in this fancy house, young man.”

“There’s one in the garage,” he said, playfulness in his eyes.

“I’d better not let go of my walker. You might be in trouble.”

Adam laughed. It was a big, loud, “Haha!” Carrie watched him, her heart beating like a snare drum. His laugh had dissipated into those adorable breathy chuckles that he did whenever something struck him funny. Amusement seeped out as he looked at his grandfather, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

“You see, Carrie,” Walter said. Only her rules on social etiquette could make her gaze leave Adam, but she turned to acknowledge Walter. “I chose the school near home. I chose the scholarship. I was a quarterback. I only wish I could have been at my peak when Adam was at his. I would have loved to see who was quicker on his feet. I’m sure Adam begs to differ, but it would have been me.”

“You’re right, Gramps. Good thing we couldn’t have had that competition,” Adam said, his lips still set in a grin as he took another swig off his bottle of beer. “Where would my ego be today if you had outrun me?”

“I loved to play catch with my dad,” Carrie said, and both men turned to look at her, Walter’s eyebrows going up in surprise. She took a sip off her bottle. “He always said I could put a mean spin on the ball.”

“Really?” Adam said. Just as obvious as it had been when she’d hit a nerve in their previous conversations, it was clear that she’d tapped into something good just now.

“I loved watching football with my dad. I was an only child; he never had a little boy to play with, so he taught me. After every game, I’d be inspired by the players and want to go out back and throw balls with him. I can still remember how he’d say, ‘Get your fingers on the laces.’”

Just like it had said to do in her book—
find something familiar
—this was the most relaxed she’d been in a long time. And in that moment, she realized that she didn’t need the book to teach her how to be happy as long as she was around people with whom she could relate.

She made eye contact with Adam again, and when she did, he was smiling at her, his eyes unstill, that curiosity showing behind them, but this time, it was directed at her and not something she’d said about the kids, which caused a plume of excitement inside her. Without even trying, she’d found familiar ground. It made her wonder what more they might share in common. What else did he like? What did he want to do most when he wasn’t working? What could they do together? Looking at him now, the way he smiled at her, the friendliness in his eyes, she felt like she was seeing the real him, and suddenly—unexpectedly—she wondered about Andy. Could he be with someone like Andy? He seemed to talk a lot with her, going out for drinks and things, but did she have the same interests as him? Could she make him smile like that? He’d made
her
laugh; she’d seen it that day when she came over, but could she do the same for him?

“Are you hungry?” Joyce said, washing her hands at the sink. “Let me fix you a plate of food. I made chicken.” Before they’d even answered, Joyce began making Carrie a plate anyway.

This moment with Adam had been so nice. Carrie wished that Sharon had given him a chance tonight. She wished his sister hadn’t been so upset. Carrie hadn’t spent time in Sharon’s shoes, but she did know what it felt like to contemplate a future without a family of her own. She knew how frustrating it was to see Adam taking what he had for granted. But ultimately it wasn’t Adam’s fault Sharon was having trouble getting pregnant. Did Sharon realize Adam’s feelings on the matter? He wanted to do more, he just didn’t know how.

“Need anything to drink? Water?” Joyce pulled a glass from the cupboard.

“I’ll have a water, thank you,” Carrie said, looking at Adam for agreement. When she did, she could hardly pull her eyes away. He had that inquisitive expression still, as if he were trying to figure her out. Little did he know there wasn’t much to figure out when it came to Carrie. She was an open book. On the phone interview, he’d asked her all kinds of questions about herself to determine whether she was a good fit for his children. She wished that she could ask
him
some questions now. There was so much she wanted to know about him, but she didn’t dare ask. After all, she was working for him.

T
o ease
stress consciously take time to relax.
The moon was hidden behind the snow-filled clouds, making the windows a velvety black. The only light outside was the lamplight on the walk, illuminating a patch of snow. Inside, however, the living room was aglow with the warmth of the Christmas season. The tree lights glistened against the green of the Christmas tree, the crystal and glass ornaments sparkling in their light. The stockings Carrie had made with the children had dried and she’d hung them on the mantle amidst the greenery and berries. Carrie sat down on the sofa and folded her feet under her. Most of the time she did that to keep warm, but tonight, the fire in the fireplace sent a wave of heat toward her.

She’d eaten supper, and she was glad to see Adam joining them for some family time. Walter was playing the last round of his marble game and Joyce had shooed them away from cleaning up, telling them she really didn’t mind and it would go faster with fewer people underfoot. She sent them all back to the table to finish the game, and Adam and Carrie had decided to head into the living room and wait for the others. Adam set her mug of coffee onto the table and then positioned his cell phone next to his own mug. It was out of place there, screaming out its imposition. She didn’t want it there because she knew that if given the choice between being there and work, he’d choose work.

Adam lowered himself down beside her, causing the cushion to slant, and she could feel the pull of her body toward him, but she fought it, shifting in her seat.

“The house looks very nice,” he said, looking around the room. “I haven’t had a chance to really enjoy it, but I’ve noticed.”

A fizz of happiness swelled in her chest. He’d noticed. When he’d originally said she could decorate, she’d thought he didn’t care, but now she wondered if he was just too busy to be worried with it. He seemed to like what she’d done. Adam was quiet and reserved, not offering much about himself, but his warmth made her feel like she knew him. He sat beside her, his cheeks rosy from the heat of the fire, a slight stubble showing on his face. He pulled his mug from the table and balanced it on his lap, his fingers dwarfing the cup as he held onto it.

“I wish Joyce would’ve let us help,” she said, smiling despite herself.

“She’s like that,” he smiled. It was good to see Adam relaxed, and she was happy to be with him.

Walter laughed in the kitchen, and it made her smile. But it also made her realize that Adam wasn’t playing the game with his family. Did he feel obligated to keep her company? Carrie suddenly wondered if she was intruding.

“What’s the matter?” he asked just as she could feel the sting of the splotches as they returned.

“What do you mean?” She couldn’t think of anything better to say, but she knew he’d seen the splotches—they disclosed her emotions whether she wanted them to or not. He waited as if giving her more time to formulate a better answer. “Do you want me to let you have a little family time?” she asked.

“No, why? It’s nice to have some company over coffee.”

“I like being with you too,” she said, looking down at her mug, but inside she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and shake her head. He’d said he liked having a cup of coffee, and she’d just said she liked being with him in general. She pressed her lips together to keep any more of her thoughts from slipping out. His quiet laughter caused her to look up, and when she did, she realized he was smiling at her—a big, happy smile. She’d not seen his face light up like that before.

“What?” she asked, her heart thumping.

His phone lit up on the table, and right there on the screen—clear as day—was the name Andy Simpson.
Andy Simpson. Andy Simpson.
She kept saying the name in her head. Andy Simpson was the name that could pull the rug right out from under her, cut through the happiness she felt like a hot knife through butter. She willed Adam to ignore it, but she knew he wouldn’t. Disappointment at the loss of the moment was eating at her from the inside out. She tried to keep her body neutral, taking a quiet sip from her mug, but she worried that her frustration was showing.

Adam looked at the phone, clearly deliberating. It rang again. “I can call her back,” he said, nodding toward the table where it sat.

“No, it’s fine!” Carrie said, her voice a little too chipper. “Get it. Really.” She was lying. She was telling him to get it, but hoping that he’d refuse. She was wishing with everything she had that he would let the call go to voicemail, because once he spoke to Andy, they could talk for hours. Work colleague or not, she knew that when it came down to it, Andy was more glamorous, wiser about the things in Adam’s world, and more of a friend to him than she was. Given the time they spent together, Andy could possibly be even more than a friend.

Adam reached out and took the phone off the table. “Excuse me just a sec,” he said just before he tapped his phone to accept the call. “Hey,” he answered, setting his mug onto the coffee table and standing up.

Carrie had never heard him say “
hey”
like that before. It was so casual, so relaxed. That one word made her feel like she was light years away from him. Who had she been kidding? Carrie allowed her gaze to settle on the Christmas tree that she’d decorated with the kids.
His
kids. They were his family, not hers. Suddenly, her admission to him that she liked being with him came flooding back to her, and she felt the throb of mortification in her temples. Adam enjoyed being with her because she didn’t have the baggage that his family had, he hadn’t let her down like he felt he had his family. She was someone with whom he could make light conversation and fill his time when he wasn’t working—that was all. How hadn’t she seen it before now? Tonight’s supper swelled in her stomach as she realized what a fool she’d made of herself. No wonder he’d laughed at her. Thank God she hadn’t said any more than that. She had to show her face and work in his home. She’d better get herself together.

When she finally swam out of her thoughts, she realized that Adam had left the room, his mug still sitting on the coffee table. It only served to make her assumption more clear. Adam did enjoy making casual conversation with her, but when it came down to it, he’d leave in a second. Andy was the person he wanted to talk to, and she would win his attention every time. As much as it bothered Carrie to think about it, she knew that, really, that’s how it probably should be. From everything she’d seen, someone like Andy would be a catch for Adam. She was poised, polite, confident, pretty. Carrie took in a deep breath and tried to rub the stress from her eyes as she let it out.

“You okay?” she heard, her eyes still shut as she rubbed them. When she looked up, Joyce was standing next to the coffee table.

“Yes. I’m fine, thank you.”

“Where’s Adam? Did he run off on ya?”

Carrie nodded.

Joyce shook her head just slightly and sat down on the sofa beside Carrie. “I don’t know what to do with that boy.” She leaned back, folding her arms. “He hasn’t been the same since Gwen left him.”

Carrie set her mug onto the coffee table. She couldn’t drink any more anyway with the state of her stomach, and Joyce’s comment had piqued her interest, so much so that she didn’t want to do anything else but listen. “How so?” she pressed. She knew it was none of her business, but she wanted to know.

“After Gwen left, he threw himself into his work,” she said. “I’m his mother, so I can feel confident in saying that he’s never failed at anything before. I don’t think he knew what to do when his marriage failed.” The fire cracked, sending red hot sparks up the chimney. Carrie realized she’d been on the edge of her seat, holding her breath, waiting for more explanation from Joyce. “You know what I think?” she wriggled around on the sofa, getting comfortable. Carrie turned in her direction and folded her leg underneath her to face Joyce. “I think that working is his way of being a father because he knows how to be a good provider. I think he’s terrified to actually be with the kids because he may fail again. He’s very sensitive, you know.” Joyce stood up and grabbed Adam’s mug from the coffee table. “Why don’t you come in the kitchen. Sharon’s upstairs. The guys were supposed to come in here, but Walter suckered them into another game. It’d be nice to have another woman in the room.”

Carrie stood up to follow Joyce, grabbing her mug. She was about to take it into the kitchen when she stopped, facing Adam. His gaze immediately went to the empty coffee table and then back up to her face. Joyce took the mug from Carrie. “I’ll take them in,” she said, but Carrie was still looking at Adam.

“I’m sorry I left you.” He looked straight into her eyes, barely blinking. “Again.” His face showed remorse, his eyes gentle, his lips turned down slightly.

She wanted to say “It’s okay,” but she knew that really it wasn’t okay. Why was he having coffee with her? Why did he crawl into the fort after her earlier? Why was he bothering to be so chatty if he could drop it in a second when Andy called? It was messing with her mind, making her feel things for him when really she shouldn’t. She worked for him. That was all. And he was making her care about him. For what? She didn’t know what to say to him because the truth was that the more she learned about him, the more she didn’t want to stay away from him for one second, and she knew that she’d be the one getting hurt in the long run. He had his work, he had Andy, who seemed perfect for him. And he was building a business, and trying to make the best of the life he’d been left with after his family broke up. So, why was he bothering with her at all? It wasn’t fair. What could she say to him now?

“What are you thinking about?” he said, a small line forming between his eyebrows in the most adorable way. She wanted to put her hands on his face and tell him, but she’d never dare, and the fact that she even wanted to made her more aggravated.

She could feel the frustration piling up like the snow on the sidewalk outside: each moment a tiny flake, but added up it was too much to plow through, too much to go away. She’d never before felt anything like what she was feeling now. Her emotions were overwhelming her, suddenly. “If you’re sorry, then change something,” she heard herself say.

This was her boss. What was she doing? She’d never been this direct about anything other than children before. She felt as strongly about this as she did the kids. She wanted Adam to either be present when he said he would or leave her alone. A part of her wanted to close up because she’d been so forward, but there was another part of her that felt liberated, like she’d finally figured out how to live. She didn’t need books or more experiences, she just needed to feel something for someone. She was able to be strong in this part of her life even though it was completely new to her, and that made her feel happier than she’d ever felt.

Adam’s face didn’t change, but his eyes showed his surprise as he processed her direct comment. He recovered, but it took him a minute. Carrie felt the flush to her cheeks, the heaviness from guilt as she looked at his face. She didn’t want to gang up on him, but truthfully, he
had
to change something. He couldn’t just walk out of rooms whenever he felt like it—even if it was his own house. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She felt so many emotions—sadness, anxiety—but what she didn’t want to admit to herself was that she was also jealous. Jealous of his work, jealous of Andy, anything that pulled him away from her.

She was also irritated because she knew, now, how the children must feel. He’d offered her attention only to wrench it away at the first opportunity. It made her feel like she wasn’t worth his time, she wasn’t as important as Andy. And maybe she wasn’t, but it didn’t stop her feelings from getting hurt. How must the children feel when their father did this to them? Her own father would have never dreamed of putting her second. All these conflicting emotions were making the splotches crawl up her neck.

Adam’s chest rose through his sweater as he took in a steadying breath. He let it out slowly. Was he thinking about what she’d said? It didn’t matter; Carrie had a sinking feeling that nothing would change. So far, he hadn’t given her any sign that he was capable of changing. Inevitably, she’d be the one playing with the kids, buying them presents—from him—and chatting in the evenings with his family. No matter what he’d dealt with, that wasn’t right.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice soft. “And be reasonable. I have to work. What do you want me to do?” he repeated.

She had a million things she wanted him to do, and they were all flying through her head at the same time. She needed to be simple with her request. Just like the children: start small and make tiny changes so as not to make it overwhelming. She needed something that wouldn’t involve the children this time, just in case he let them down. What did she want him to change? His involvement with his family was the number one concern. She scrambled for an answer and then,
bang
. She had one.

“I want you to go shopping for the kids. Take your mom with you; she’ll help you pick out the right toys,” she said.

“What?” he let out a pent up breath with the word. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that request.

“Go shopping,” she smiled. His face had lightened considerably, and her heart went into overdrive. Even when she was aggravated with him, Carrie couldn’t hide her affection for him. She tried to straighten out her smile, but it kept coming back against her will. It was time she admitted it to herself: she had fallen for Adam Fletcher. She couldn’t rewind things, turn back the clock. She’d gotten too far into this, too close.

He looked at her, the corners of his mouth turned up in that lovable way, and she wondered if he felt anything at all in that moment. When he was with her and nothing else was pulling on his attention, she felt like she was the only person in his world. He made her feel so assured, so happy. She felt like she could tell him anything.

“Tomorrow, I want you to ask your mother to go,” she said. “It’s your first day off, and we only have four days until Christmas. You have no work and the kids have no presents.” She felt the confidence soaring through her. She could get her thoughts out just fine, and she told him exactly what she wanted him to do. It made her feel strong. The way he was looking at her gave her hope that maybe he was taking in this moment as much as she was. Did he feel what she was feeling?