A Christmas to Remember (18 page)

“I’ll ask her to go tomorrow morning.”

“You will?” she said, unable to conceal her smile. She wanted to put her hands on his face and kiss him. That was the first time she’d allowed herself to think about kissing Adam. It would be so natural to put her arms around his neck, push herself up on her toes, and press her lips to his.

“Yes,” he said, smiling down at her. Did she see affection in his eyes?

“Thank you,” she said, using all her self-control to keep her feet planted where they were and her arms by her sides.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes moved around her face. She wanted to know his thoughts. She wanted to hear his voice as he told them to her. “We have to go in the morning, though, because we have the kids’ Christmas play tomorrow night.”

He’d remembered
. And he’d said “we” which meant he planned to go! The thrill of having him there swelled within her. “Yes,” she said. “The morning would be great.”

T
o ease anxiety
, it is sometimes helpful to find healthy distractions.
Carrie smiled to herself as she thought about how fitting that line was now. Originally, she’d worried about having Adam as a distraction, but today, she celebrated it. The engine of Adam’s silver Five Series BMW barely made a sound as he opened the car door to let her in. When Carrie sat down on the passenger seat, she could feel the warmth from the heater that he’d had running for the last ten minutes as they’d gotten ready to leave. When Adam had asked Joyce to go shopping, she’d suggested that Carrie go instead since she was probably up on all the latest in children’s toys. They’d tried to convince Joyce further, but she’d flat refused, saying she hadn’t bought toys in decades, and she’d rather spend time with the children. Joyce and the children were at the front door, Olivia waving with one hand, her baby doll in the other. David stood behind them, peeking around his grandmother and waving goodbye intermittently. They backed inside and shut the door just as Carrie shut herself into the car.

The seats were black leather, soft to the touch, and perfectly clean—not a speck of dust. Her shoes dropped snow on the floor mats, and she worried that it would make a spot when it melted. She let her eyes roam around the sleek dashboard, thinking about how different this car was to hers. She felt frumpy in it. Adam got in and latched his seatbelt. Unlike her, he fit perfectly in the car’s interior. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his shiny Rolex peeking out from under his coat, reminding her of the time that was ticking away, the tiny number of hours she had before she’d have to leave.

As he drove through the neighborhood streets, she thought again how she didn’t feel like she belonged in a car like this, and she wondered if Andy had ever been in her seat. She was willing to bet that Ms. Simpson would look a lot more comfortable in it than she did. Carrie didn’t need fancy cars and big houses to be happy. She looked over at Adam. His hand was on the stick shift between them, resting there. She wondered if he felt like he needed all this to be happy. Would he be just as happy in her little car with her? Why had he surrounded himself with so many pricey things when he barely noticed any of them? He never gave himself time to enjoy them. He shifted as they merged onto the highway, and she watched his hand move. Even his hands were familiar to her now, the curve of his knuckles, the movement of his fingers. She wondered what it felt like to feel his touch on her face.

“I thought we’d go to the mall. Would that be okay?” he said, breaking the silence.

“That’s fine.” She didn’t care where they went. She enjoyed being with him, and what she wanted was for Adam to choose the gifts that he was planning to give his children. She’d help give him ideas of what they’d like, but the children needed to know that they were actually from him.

When they finally arrived, Carrie was more than surprised by what she saw. She walked through the entrance into the massive expanse of outdoor shops surrounding her. In the center of it all was a Christmas tree that was as tall as the mall itself, its lights twinkling like stars against the gray sky. The shops were two stories, the iron railings on the second floor draped with swags of evergreen. Christmas music poured through the loud speakers as the whistle from a children’s train blew when it passed by them. She pulled the collar of her coat together to keep out the cold, but the sight in front of her kept her warm.

“It’s cold,” Adam said, lightly placing his hand on her back, making it hard for her to breathe. She looked over at him and smiled, the thrill of being with him settling in her chest. “Where would you like to go first?” he asked.

There were chocolate shops, perfume shops, clothing stores, anything and everything, their store signs bright against the dull sky. Each one had wreaths in windows, snow piled in corners, people bustling in and out with their holiday bags swinging from their arms. There was too much to take in, too many choices. Then, down the cobbled walk, she saw the glow of primary colors in the shop window—the toy store. “Let’s start there,” she pointed.

“Okay,” he said, as he smiled down at her.

His whole body seemed less tense than she’d seen it before, and his face was content when he looked at her. He was in the moment. The excitement of the season, the ambiance of the shops, and being with him made her feel like she was creating a memory that she wouldn’t soon forget. She was happier than she could remember being in a very long time. She felt like a whole person again, and all the things she’d read in her books seemed useless now—she didn’t need any of them because they didn’t understand what it was like to live. The words in her books were nothing more than a string of advice with no mention of what it was to feel real happiness. She remembered her book that said that familiar situations put people at ease. This wasn’t familiar at all, yet she was more at ease than she’d ever been.

Adam opened the door to the toy shop and allowed her to enter first. “Shall we shop for Olivia since I see all that pink over there?”

She nodded. He was right. Olivia would definitely love that section of the store. There were fairy costumes, pink unicorn stuffed animals, purple strollers with silver, sparkle wheels. It was perfect. Carrie picked up a fat white and black stuffed kitty cat doll with a pink rhinestone collar and stroked its fur.

“What do you think?” she asked, cradling it like a baby. “It could be her new pet.” Adam shook his head, smiling, and she set it back down. “Or these?” She took a gigantic pair of pink heart glasses from the shelf and put them on. “She may like them.” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Then, it caught her eye on the shelf above, glistening in the light of the shop. Carrie put the glasses back and pulled a diamond crown the size of Miss America’s from the shelf and placed it on her head. The faux metal and stones were light, but the crown itself was substantial, causing her hair to fall into her face as she pressed it down onto her head.

Adam raised his hand, and for an instant, she thought he was going to push her hair behind her ear, but he pulled his hand back as quickly as he’d raised it and smiled instead. It was only half of a gesture—barely enough for her to even know its intent—but enough to make her hands tingle with nervousness. He was smiling at her, but his eyes were appraising, as if he were seeing her in a new light. She could see the happiness in his face even though he was working to keep his features neutral. It all made her heart pound in her chest. She took the crown off and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I think she’d like it,” he said.

Olivia
would
like it. And the fact that he knew filled with her emotions. Did he feel what she was feeling? He gestured for her to enter the aisle leading to the toy trains and trucks, so she went first, glad that she could focus on something other than his face to settle her nerves.

They stopped in front of the toy construction trucks. Adam’s expression was the same as the one he had when he was concentrating at his desk. He scanned the toys in front of him. “David doesn’t really play with these types of trucks, does he?”

“You’re right,” she said, happy that he knew his son better than she thought he did.

They walked to the next aisle. The shelves were lined with blocks of different types. This is the perfect spot to find David a gift, she thought, but she didn’t say anything. She waited to see if Adam knew it too. He stopped and took a box of bristle blocks off the shelf, read the back of it, and put it back. Then, he pulled a larger box of stacking blocks down and inspected the picture on the front. He turned it around for Carrie to view. “I think he’d like these,” he said. “And he mentioned a racecar set.” It was true: David had mentioned that he wanted a racecar set on the day they’d gotten the Christmas tree with Adam. She had thought he wasn’t listening.

“How many gifts should we buy? I noticed Mom had put some presents under the tree.”

“Maybe we could get two or three each, and then there’s always Santa’s loot. Anything planned for that?” She knew it probably hadn’t occurred to him until that moment, but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Two tiny creases formed between his eyes as he considered her question. When his face was serious, she could see David’s resemblance to him.

“Hm,” he said, looking around. “We may need a cart. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared around the corner and returned, pushing a small shopping cart. She placed the crown and the blocks in the basket and headed toward the jungle animals section.

There were stuffed monkeys, trees with bright flowers strung around them, toucans, and frogs with orange feet. An enormous, animated panda growled in her direction, causing her to jump in surprise. She heard that all-too-familiar laugh beside her, and her hopes went soaring. He was enjoying himself, clearly. Did he have these kinds of experiences with Andy? She didn’t want to think about it.

“What is this?” Adam said, pointing to a picture of life-sized indoor jungle-themed play set with a tube slide.

“It looks like a jungle gym,” she said, trying to mask her surprise. She thought about the last nanny, Natalie—her quiet demeanor, her strict rules—and she couldn’t believe he was even considering purchasing such a thing. The playroom, with its dark wood shelves, and burgundy and green rug was like a toy museum. The toy bins were color-coordinated and labeled, the art table perfectly organized. This orange and yellow contraption would stick out like a sore thumb in that décor.

“Do you think they’d play on it if I bought it for them? Gwen’s getting them each a Big Wheels for her house. This would give them something active that they could do at mine.”

She didn’t want to have seen it, but she’d caught a glimpse of the price tag: one thousand, two hundred ninety-nine dollars. “I think they’d love it,” she said.

“Do you think this could be their gift from Santa?”

She thought back to her gifts from Santa. Her biggest gift had been a bike, and she’d wondered how he’d fit it in the sleigh. How would they explain this? It was okay, though. She’d leave them to wonder. Their daddy was about to buy a gift for them that they’d absolutely love, and he had the money to do it, so she kept quiet. It was extravagant, but the point was that she had Adam out shopping, and he’d picked it out himself.

They paid for the jungle gym and a few other smaller gifts, and walked out into the frigid cold of winter. The tinkling of jingle bells sailed toward her and she saw Santa—all decked out in the most elegant deep red outfit with furry white cuffs and lapels, thick, black leather boots and belt, and the most gorgeous white hair and beard, perfectly combed. He let out a “Ho ho ho,” from his golden throne, a line of excited children waiting to give him their lists. A little boy with a bright red and green sweater and white Oxford shirt collar peeking out at the neck climbed onto Santa’s lap, his mother holding his coat and smiling affectionately.

“What would you like for Christmas?” Santa called out in his bellowing voice. As he did, he caught Carrie’s eye. She felt a little embarrassed, realizing she’d been staring at him, thinking about the magic of Christmas and how much she wished she could have David and Olivia with her. What would she like for Christmas? She’d like more days just like this one. As she allowed the thought to come through, Santa winked at her and then went back to the little boy who was unfolding a piece of notebook paper and reading his list. She turned to talk to Adam, but, to her surprise, he wasn’t beside her. She looked around, her eyes moving from storefront to storefront. Where had he gone? Fear took over as she worried that he’d taken a work call. Maybe one from Andy. She shivered in the cold, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat to keep her fingers from going numb.

Before she could ponder Adam’s absence too long, she was relieved to see him walking toward her from the chocolate shop with two steaming cups in his hands. He was unaware that she was looking at him. She noticed his stride, the square of his shoulders under his coat, the confidence in his face as he made his way through the crowd. Then, he locked eyes with her, and smiled, and she could hardly manage the happiness that she felt. If only she could have more time with him like this. It was probably the only chance she’d get with just him.

“I thought this might warm us up,” he said, handing her a cup. “Hot chocolate.”

“Thank you,” she said, gingerly taking a cup from his hand.

He looked over at Santa who already had a different child on his lap, the camera snapping a pose before the child pulled out her list. Carrie felt self-conscious about her Christmas wish to be with Adam more, as if he could read her mind. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, and she nearly choked on her hot chocolate.

“You do?” she said after swallowing a blazing gulp of the hot liquid. She let out a tiny cough.

“We should bring the kids to see Santa.”

“Oh! Yes. We should.” She’d answered without thinking about it, but once she processed his words, she realized that he’d said
we
should bring the kids to see Santa.
We
. That little word sure packed a punch. He could have said, “Why don’t you bring the kids…” or “Feel free to bring the kids…” but he hadn’t. Did he even realize what he’d said? Or was she reading into things, letting her hope get the best of her? With the Christmas music, the decorations, Santa—the magic of the season—it was easy to do.

“Do you mind, since we’re out already, if I get some presents for my family as well? I was hoping you’d help me pick them out. I’m not very good at present-buying.”

“You seem very good at it to me,” she said, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. They’d started walking the brick walkway toward the fountain that was full of pennies, each one someone’s wish. She contemplated throwing one in for good luck.

“I’m better at it when you’re with me to give the final ‘okay’.”

She smiled at that comment, and they walked together, looking at shops and chatting about possible gifts for his parents and his grandfather. The most difficult person was going to be Sharon. He was at a loss for what to get her.