A Christmas to Remember (24 page)

They were the only ones outside, the sound of the band still going in the house, the white lights twinkling in the trees. Without warning, he put his hands on her waist, pulled her to him, and, before she could process what was happening, he kissed her. At first, it was as light as a feather, and then, all her thoughts were washed away as his mouth moved on hers. The taste of champagne on his lips, the feel of his unstill hands at her back, the way his hair moved through her fingers after she ran them up his neck, it felt like every kiss she’d had before that one had been completely wrong, as if she were made to fit together with him and him only. She didn’t notice the cold outside or the darkness. She only felt Adam’s presence, and the complete perfection of the moment.

He pulled back and looked at her, his face so calm and still that it almost made him look like a different person. She took in that picture of him, adding it to the front of her list of memories, because
that
was what he really looked like. With nothing bothering him. He smiled at her and she felt weak all over. “We should probably get home,” he said. Even though she totally disagreed, she nodded, the night coming to an end.

D
on’t dwell
in the past. Every day is a new day.

Carrie hadn’t seen much of Adam all morning, and she wondered what he could be doing. She was a little anxious, not knowing how to act around him, and the longer he took, the more she worried. What if he was avoiding her? Had he awakened this morning regretting their kiss? She’d thought about it all night into the wee hours of the morning, and her eyes burned from lack of sleep. The car ride home had been quiet, the static sound of the wet snow against the tires, the radio on low to fill the silence. She’d watched the black of night slip by the car window. She was afraid to look at Adam. Would she see disappointment? Would she see regret? She wasn’t used to being in his world—she wasn’t like Andy—and while she’d acted naturally, she still worried that she’d done something wrong.

All that aside, this was, after all, one of his days off, and with Christmas Eve tonight, she wanted everything to be perfect for the children.
Where could he be?
she wondered again. She didn’t want him to be busy with anything except his family. So when he didn’t show for the big breakfast that Joyce had cooked, it troubled Carrie. Her stomach was in knots the more she waited, and when he came downstairs fully dressed—shoes, ironed clothes, and all—her stomach felt like it was full of cement. This time, however, instead of being sad and resisting the urge to plead with him, she was going to be downright angry if he went in to work. He knew better. They’d had enough talk about it. Going in to work on Christmas Eve would show blatant disregard for his family, she felt. Carrie consciously relaxed her shoulders, realizing they’d inched up near her ears somewhere.

“Good morning,” he said to her first. She was rinsing her plate at the sink, so she only turned her head to look at him, her hands still under the stream of water. She searched his face for any sign of how he felt seeing her, but he just looked like he normally did when he was greeting the whole family. She smiled nervously.

“Did I miss breakfast?”

She nodded.

“Have you eaten?”

She nodded again, too worried to speak. She was annoyed with herself because she’d promised herself at the Ashford Estate that she’d say something if he put work first but with the kiss looming in her consciousness, and without the champagne and the proximity to him, she felt too nervous to say what she was thinking. She was worried that he was going to let her down, upset her, that he hadn’t changed, but what she feared most was that the kiss had been a mistake. She dried her hands and turned around. He was acting weird. He wasn’t stressed out, yet everything about his behavior told her he was going to work. He’d gotten up at the same time he always had—she’d heard him, thinking he was coming downstairs but then he never showed. He’d showered first. He’d spent the morning absent. He’d come downstairs at the usual time when he would leave for work. Carrie was on pins and needles waiting for an explanation.

“Good morning,” he said to Joyce and Sharon who were wiping down the counters. Then, he turned back to Carrie. “I’d like to ask you to do something for me.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Would you come to the brewery with me? Bring the kids. I want to show you and the family around. Then maybe we could take the kids to see Santa.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Joyce said from behind Carrie.

Carrie had been too stunned to speak. Adam had said he wanted to show
her
the brewery. Had she heard him correctly? He must want her there for the children. Or perhaps he was just being polite.

Joyce walked around the island and patted his arm, smiling.

“I haven’t ever shown you where I work,” he said, “so I thought it was about time.”

“If Carrie can get the little ones around, I’ll organize the big ones,” Joyce winked. “Would you like some breakfast, honey?” she asked Adam. Joyce looked positively thrilled. As she finished clearing the dishes, she was almost bouncing with excitement.

Carrie was still trying to process what had just happened when Adam came up beside her, standing closer than he should. He looked down at her, warmth in his eyes, and she could feel the splotches coming. This time, they weren’t coming from nerves, they were coming from the excitement—a thrill like she’d never felt before. The way he was looking at her was the same way he’d looked at her last night, but there was something more real about it in the daylight, making it less dreamlike and more genuine. She took in a breath to steady herself. He reached into the cabinet above her head and pulled out a plate.

“What time would you like to go?” she asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“As soon as everyone’s ready.”

C
arrie pulled
her car up behind the camper and put it in park. Adam had driven everyone in the camper because Walter had trouble getting in and out of the car, and the snow had piled up significantly on the curbs. She’d followed behind with the children. As she walked around the car to unbuckle the kids, she tried to keep her emotions even. The book on stress that she’d read while waiting to meet the Fletchers was still on the seat of her car. She resisted the urge to open it and find an answer for the way she was feeling. Truthfully, she knew she wouldn’t find answers in there. Life was too complex, too specific to find answers to her kind of questions.

When she opened David’s side, she was taken aback by what she saw. He was working diligently to unbuckle himself, his usual serious expression replaced by a huge grin, causing the dimple on his right cheek to show more than usual. “Are you doing okay?” she asked as David fumbled with the buckles.

“Yes!” he said. “Can you get this one?”

Carrie unclipped the last buckle and David hopped out onto the icy city street, nearly losing his balance and slipping. She caught him. “Wait there on the sidewalk while I get Olivia,” she said, thrilled to see such excitement in David. “You’re a very happy boy today.” She walked to the curb as she waited for the traffic to pass so she could open Olivia’s door. Adam had parallel parked up the street since he had the large camper and needed more room. They were all walking down the sidewalk toward Carrie’s car.

“I get to see Daddy’s work!” David said.

Carrie unbuckled Olivia and carried her across the original cobblestones and over the snow bank to the sidewalk, setting her down easily so she didn’t fall. Her little pink snow boots provided little traction on the ice. Carrie looked up at Shockoe Brewery. It was nestled in an old, historic area of the city. Spanning two buildings, the exterior was painted a bright white with dark green awnings on every window and above the front door. Every window had a spruce wreath with bright red bows and white twinkle lights. An oval lighted sign with curly writing, saying “open” was positioned in the window next to the door.

The Fletchers had caught up with them, and Adam walked around to the front of the group. He opened the large, wooden door for them to enter. The whole place oozed refinement. The hostess perked up at the sight of Adam, smiling nervously in his direction. As she started thumbing through menus, he politely told her to hold off. Carrie was impressed by his presence. Adam was different there than he was at home with her. With Carrie, he was softer, gentler, whereas at the brewery, he was still pleasant, but he was more matter-of-fact with his commands. Until then, she’d never realized how friendly he’d actually been with her since the very beginning.

The hostess immediately put the menus back and stood at attention, ready to fulfill any request he had. The wall of glass with the brew kettle was bigger in real life than what it had seemed in the pictures. An entire wall behind the hostess, opposite the front, had Salty Shockoe bottles from floor to ceiling, all kinds of different labels and sizes. The wall was arranged in a way that it looked artistic—as good as any painting she’d ever seen. The tables were thick, lacquered dark wood with deep pink orchids in the center of each one. The formality of the orchids against the casual beer design was like chocolate and popcorn—sweet and salty—mirroring Adam’s own personality in many ways.

David pushed forward and grabbed Adam’s hand, and Adam showed his surprise. The little boy was still smiling wide, his eyes darting from one side of the restaurant to the other. “Is this your work, Daddy?” he asked. Before Adam could even answer, he asked, “Where’s your desk? What phone do you use?”

Adam let out a quiet burst of laughter and scooped David up into his arms. “Would you like to see my desk first?” he asked.

Carrie could barely focus on what Adam was saying because she was too busy dealing with the elation that she felt at seeing him with his little boy. David had always seemed just like his daddy to Carrie, but what she didn’t know was that all he needed was to be given time with Adam doing what Adam loved to do. She’d never seen David so happy, and she’d never seen Adam so relaxed with one of his children before. They were both in their element, and no one could have planned it—not even her. Watching the two of them feed off of each other was like magic, something bigger than all the strategies she’d learned being a nanny. Carrie blinked to keep the wetness in her eyes at bay. It hit her right in the heart.

“Why don’t you all go up to the bar and have a seat while I show David my desk?” Adam said, still holding David whose thick winter jacket had caused his cheeks to become bright red in the warmth of the brewery. “Drinks are on me,” he winked. Then he called to the bartender, “Can you get a pot of coffee going, Tom?” The bartender nodded, waving them all over. Carrie had a stab of fear as she saw Adam take his son through the door to his office. Was Andy back there? Would he see her, and the spell would be broken, causing him to realize that what they’d shared at Ashford really wasn’t what he wanted? She turned away from the door and tried not to think about it.

The bar and tables were still quite empty since it was barely brunch time, so they all took a seat, filling the bar. Carrie shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of her chair. Olivia had climbed into the chair next to her, between Carrie and Joyce. She, too, took her little coat off and put it on the back of her chair, her pink snow boots swinging above the floor. Carrie let her eyes wander the substantial bar where she was sitting—its brass accents and beautiful grains. Behind the bartender, she saw more beers displayed like artwork, and she wondered if Adam had done the decorating or someone else. The colors on the labels flowed like a rainbow wave from one side of the display to the other, each placement clearly meticulously thought out. Her eye caught one particular bottle, causing her to smile. It was the Christmas bottle with the holly leaves that Adam had made for her.

While they all drank coffee, Olivia had milk—Tom, the bartender, was teaching her how to spin a quarter on the shiny surface of the bar. He held a quarter up on its side while Olivia flicked it, sending it spinning across the surface. Adam returned, holding David’s hand. “David just met Andy and most of the office staff,” Adam said, letting David crawl up onto a barstool and gesturing to Tom for another cup of milk.

Andy
was
there. Would she be coming out to say hello? Or more awkward, would she be joining them all for a drink? Carrie could feel the anxiety rising. She was almost certain that she hadn’t imagined the moment she’d had with Adam when they’d put the kids to bed, and she prayed that his kiss last night had been more than just the champagne and the magic of the evening. He hadn’t made any further moves. Was she supposed to do something? Anything more and she felt like she’d be throwing herself at him, or worse, she’d make a fool of herself. Adam told Tom that they were going to finish having their drinks at a table, so they walked over to an empty one with enough seats to accommodate everyone. They all sat down, Carrie holding her coffee mug with two hands, pretending to keep warm but really hiding her jitters. Adam sat down in the empty seat beside her.

Beside their table was a Christmas tree stretching up to the second-floor balcony. Carrie hadn’t noticed before now, but the second and third floors were open balconies, the original steel beams showing at the top. The whole building looked as though it had originated as some sort of warehouse or tobacco facility, the exposed brick giving way to patches of cement with artsy murals painted on it. The beams themselves at the ceiling still showed their rusted bolts, amidst the most gorgeous chandeliers Carrie had ever laid eyes on. Each one was so large that if she were standing beside it on the floor, it would be bigger than Adam’s dining table. Olivia crawled onto Adam’s lap, facing him, the lights from the tree causing a golden shine on the waves in her hair. Olivia was so small that she could crisscross her legs and still fit on Adam’s lap. Adam looked more confident with David. With Olivia, he looked as though he were worried he’d break her. He gently held her hands as she wriggled herself into a comfortable position.

“I’m going to paint your face,” she said, holding one finger in the air with imaginary paint on it. “Close your eyes, Daddy.” Adam looked around at the others at the table as if he were asking what to do. Joyce winked at him and smiled, so he closed his eyes. Olivia dragged her finger down his nose. “That is…” She pursed her lips in thought. “Purple. What color would you like the end of your nose to be?”