A Christmas to Remember (7 page)

At first, he looked at her indignantly—it was just for a moment—and she wondered if he’d ever been spoken to that directly before. She hadn’t meant to be rude, just honest. His children needed him. Their wellbeing was her number one priority—he’d said that himself. She could feel the splotches crawling up her neck, and she wished in that instant that she hadn’t said anything.

“Look, I have things to deal with that are more important than a
tree
.”

“This isn’t about a tree. It’s about being with your children.”

“You’re making this bigger than it is. The kids spelled it out for you. They need strength and money to get that tree. There’s someone at the lot who will tie it to your car for you, and you have my credit card. There’s no need to throw a wrench in my entire week.”

“I still remember getting a tree with my dad. I remember each year specifically. Those were great memories, Adam. Your kids aren’t going to have any memories of you except the ones where you’re absent.”

His jaw clenched—in annoyance, probably—but his eyes looked as though he were considering. She watched him, a glimmer of hope swelling up inside her. “Please,” she said, capitalizing on that possible moment of uncertainty.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes still on her. “You are definitely not shy about your thoughts,” he said, still studying her face. “I can’t do Saturday…” he said more to himself than to her and shook his head.

She sat silently, unsure of what to do next.

There was something so commanding about his stare, but behind it, she could almost swear that she could see something gentler. When he looked at her, it wound her stomach into knots, but she held her ground, nearly pleading with her eyes. The fact that the kids were so unaffected by his presence unnerved her, and she couldn’t help but want to fix it—just like she was always trying to fix herself. This, though, she understood how to fix, so she felt like she needed to intervene.

The silence between them was deafening as Carrie waited for the outcome of her forward comment. She was willing to bet that demanding things from a boss on day two was not something that any of her books would have recommended, but it felt like the right thing to do. As she sat, waiting, she started to second-guess her method of intervening. There was a reason she’d bought all those books: she didn’t
know
the right things to do. Perhaps she’d made a mistake in asking him to get a tree. She was out of her comfort zone.

Then, to her complete surprise, he took a sip of his wine, set down the glass, and started eating his stew, leaving her hanging on that last thought. She’d been waiting so patiently, hoping to hear his answer, and he’d completely abandoned the conversation. He ate slowly, and, watching him, she wondered if he was still mulling it over at all. He could be almost rude at times, and when he was, it made her feel so unimportant, her concerns so trivial. But at the same time, she didn’t want him to leave. Her emotions were confusing to her; they didn’t fit into nice, neat categories, and she was nearly certain she’d never find her specific mix of feelings in any book, which terrified her. How would she ever figure it all out on her own? She watched him eating, wanting to shake him by the shoulders.

“The Christmas decorations looked very nice when I drove up,” he said at last. “I like what you’ve done with the white lights outside and the window candles.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. She didn’t know what else to say. His reaction puzzled her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was he angry? Should she have just left well enough alone? It was only the second day of her employment; she had a long way to go. She’d never faced this situation before. She could always be honest with the women who had employed her, but being honest like she had with a man was different. Being honest with
him
was different. She couldn’t put her finger on it—perhaps it was the way he smiled at her, or the fact that she could tell there was more to him than he was showing.

She looked down at her stew and ate a spoonful. It was still hot enough that the steam was rising in front of her. She stirred it around, watching the vegetables spin in the broth. The more she sat there, the more she thought she might have been wrong making such a bold suggestion. No matter what she thought about Adam Fletcher, she barely knew him, and she worried that she’d overstepped her bounds. What had she been thinking to pry into his life and speak to him like that? She was the nanny, and he was her employer. Her focus was the children. Guilt settled in her stomach, making it difficult to eat another bite.

Adam picked up his phone and started scrolling through something, that serious face of his returning—the pursed lips, the crease between his eyes. Was he just going to leave the conversation at that? Never even address the fact that she’d asked him to get a Christmas tree with his own children? Was he going to make a call, get involved with his work again, and walk out not to return until the next morning? She felt so helpless in that moment because it was clear from only a few days with them that what the kids needed was time with their father, and Adam needed to show them love. They were all missing so much.

“I can try to meet you at ten o’clock tomorrow. Can we do it in an hour?” he asked, typing on his phone. He
was
mulling it over. She just noticed that he’d been scrolling through his calendar. She watched the way he pressed his lips together, the way he blinked slowly to fight fatigue, the strength in his cheekbones. He was good-looking, certainly, but the fact that he’d listened to her, paid attention to her request, and honored it, made him more attractive than any good looks could. She had to work to keep the smile from spreading across her face. Adam Fletcher was getting a Christmas tree. She’d done it, and the success of it felt so good. She’d gone with her gut, and she’d been right! The kids would be able to say that they bought a tree with their father. How wonderful. She wanted to get up and hug him. Instead, she tried to rearrange her lips to keep a serious expression.

“Yes,” she said. “We can do it in an hour.”

D
eep breathing can ease
anxiety and evoke calm.
Carrie tried unsuccessfully to control her excitement as she got the children ready. She took in a big breath and let it out slowly. It was nearly nine forty-five, and they were meeting Adam at the Christmas tree farm down the road in fifteen minutes. She tucked Olivia’s scarf into her coat. “I’ve got the car running, but it will take me a few minutes to clean it off. Would anyone like to help me get the snow off the car?”

“Me!” Olivia jumped up and down. “Oh, I’m hot,” she said suddenly, pulling at her scarf.

Carrie smiled down at her. Only Olivia’s dark blue eyes and pink cheeks were visible. The rest of her was so bundled that her entire body was lost underneath.

“I can help too,” David said quietly, tugging on the wrist of his mittens to pull them on. His face was contorted in concentration as he struggled to get his fingers in. His stocking cap was a little lower than it should be, and he kept trying to push it out of his eyes.

“I’m hot,” Olivia said again.

With a chuckle, Carrie opened the front door, letting in a gust of freezing air. “This should help,” she said, ushering the kids outside into the snow. The sun had come out, casting golden light on the white expanse around them. All they could see was the bright blue of the sky and the glitter of snow. Carrie couldn’t help but be excited about this trip. It was a tiny step in the right direction. If she could get Adam to spend an hour with the kids on her third day of work, what could she accomplish with more time?

She handed David a little brush she’d found in the garage, and passed a scraper to Olivia. “David, can you be sure all the lights on the car are brushed clean, please? And Olivia, you can scrape the mirrors on the outside for me.” The children, eager to assist, got right to work. Carrie had already brushed the snow off the windshield, and the heat from the defrost inside had done the rest of the work, but she wanted the car to be warm enough. So, to keep the kids busy and to make them feel like they’d done something grown up, she’d had them help. By the time their interest was dwindling, it was a few minutes before ten o’clock, so she buckled them into the car and headed for the Christmas tree lot.

She arrived right on time and had to stifle a smile as she saw Adam standing at the front of the lot, his coat pulled up around his chin, his breath billowing out in front of him, talking on his cell phone.
One step at a time
, she thought.

He looked like something out of a magazine, and she couldn’t believe how in the world, looking like he did, he was still single. As she parked the car, she thought how similar they were. He was still single for the same reason that she was still single—they both worked all the time.

“There’s your daddy,” she said, turning off the engine.

“I can’t wait to get at tree!” Olivia said. David sat quietly, his eyes on his father. His face was curious, watching, as if he were taking in every one of Adam’s movements. Carrie could tell that David was like a little adult himself, and if he were just given the opportunity, he’d probably want to spend every minute with his daddy. Her mind was spinning with ways to facilitate that scenario.

She opened the car door and helped the kids unbuckle themselves. They hopped out, and she quickly assessed the parking lot, worried they’d run to Adam, but they didn’t. They stood right with her, and she noticed again what little bond they had with their father. Adam had looked their way and finished his call, sliding his phone into his pocket. He put up a hand and waved at them. In the sunlight, she noticed that his hair had strands of bronze like Olivia’s, and his face was even more striking when he wasn’t exhausted. She took the children’s hands on either side of her and walked across the parking lot.

“Hi,” she said as they neared Adam.

“Hello.” He had his hands in the pockets of his coat.

He had a quality about him that made her want to walk with him, take her time, get to know him better, but she was there for one purpose: to get the children with their father. “There are a lot of trees here,” she said for the kids’ benefit. “We may want to split up. David, why don’t you go with your daddy, and Olivia and I will go to the other side. We’ll each find a tree and compare them. How does that sound?”

David was still watching his father, a hesitant look on his face. Then, without warning, he leaned toward Carrie and whispered, “I want to go with you too.” He moved closer to Carrie, putting a giant gap between the three of them and Adam.

Carrie had made the suggestion, hoping to give David a little time with his dad, to give them a chance to enjoy each other, and it had just backfired terribly. She could feel the splotches climbing up her neck as she looked over at Adam. How must it feel to have a son who would rather be with his nanny than with his own father? Even given the situation, it had to hurt at least a little. She searched his face, worry swelling up in her stomach, but if it had hurt him, he hid it well. His smile was gone, but his face was pleasant.

“Why don’t we go together?” he suggested. “We have enough time to find a tree, even if we don’t split up. Plus, Carrie knows what would look best in the house.”

“Okay,” she said, glad that she’d have some time with him, and that the atmosphere was still friendly and happy for the most part. They started walking into the rows of spruce trees, all tied to posts, their branches dusted with snow. Big, buzzing white light bulbs hung from tree post to tree post, their light masked by the bright sun. Despite the clear weather, the temperature outside was so cold that the snow hadn’t moved. It still blanketed the field, contrasting with the green of the trees and the blue of the sky. Carrie ran her hand down one of the trees, its short needles springing into place from under her palm, sending a tiny puff of snow down to the ground.

“Do you want a fat tree or a skinny one?” she asked David.

“A big fat one,” he smiled, his dimple showing on his cheek. “That will give us room for more presents!” he giggled.

Carrie thought about this comment. As of now, David didn’t have any presents because Adam hadn’t bought any—and unbeknownst to him, she wasn’t going to do it. Did Adam even know what his children liked? Did he know what would make them gasp and squeal with joy on Christmas morning? She had a lot of work ahead of her if she was going to get him to buy the presents. At this point, it seemed daunting, and she felt a twinge of worry that she wouldn’t be able to accomplish such a task. She worried, too, about the children. What would their Christmas be like if they opened a bunch of gifts that they hadn’t asked for? What if Santa didn’t come? Didn’t Adam realize that he only had a handful of years where the magic was there? And then it would be gone. Forever. He’d never get that magic back. If she didn’t work fast, his children would grow up and look back on their childhood never knowing that kind of magic.

She remembered Christmases with her own parents, how it felt to unwrap that one gift that had been at the top of her list. She remembered the security in the knowledge that her parents had known exactly what to get her. Until adulthood, she’d taken their generosity for granted. She didn’t realize, as a child, how much the gesture really meant. Her parents had looked long and hard to find the very things—down to the right color or model—that she’d put on her list. They’d done it because they loved her. If Carrie bought the children gifts, what would that tell them about Adam? What would they think of his love? Would it be absent in their minds?

Adam was kind and gentle, and she knew that deep down he loved his kids too. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have worked so hard to get a top nanny, he wouldn’t have made sure that they had everything they needed, he wouldn’t have met them today. Perhaps he just didn’t know how to show that love. Clearly, being the Founder and CEO of Shockoe Brewery—she’d noticed on his letterhead—he knew how to run things. She’d read on the computer last night how his beer was shipped state-wide, and he had a very successful restaurant and brewery. By the ease in which he offered his credit card, things were unquestionably going well for him. Maybe he was like her in that he stuck to what he did best—running the brewery—and let everything else flounder. Maybe he wasn’t as sure of himself when it came to his personal life. Maybe he didn’t trust his instincts. She could certainly relate.

“What presents would you like for Christmas, David?” she asked.

Olivia had run ahead, and was bent over, her scarf now out of her jacket, dragging the ground as she peered under a tree. “There’s not much room under this one,” she called back to them and then ran a little farther up the lot to check another.

“I’d like a racecar set,” David said. Carrie took a mental note.

“Oh, that sounds fun, David,” she smiled. “If you get one, may I play with it too?” David nodded, a grin emerging through his serious expression. Carrie stopped in front of a perfectly shaped tree that stood taller than Adam, and looked it up and down. “What about this one?” she asked, looking at Adam for his opinion.

He shrugged. “I’m sure you’re better at knowing what would work in the house than I am,” he said with that grin of his. “Get whatever you like.”

His cheeks were pink from the cold. Carrie wanted to put her hands on them and warm them up. The thought surprised her, and she quickly turned away from him and looked at the tree. Handsome as he was, she hadn’t until that very moment contemplated what it would be like to comfort him or touch him. Just like her nerves, she thought for the millionth time, she’d better get over it if she wanted to work for him day in and day out. She couldn’t be having thoughts like that. When she had finally cleared the notion from her mind, she looked back at him, and his eyes met hers. He was looking at her almost curiously, and she worried that he could read her mind. Why was he looking at her that way? It was making her nervous. She tried to take a deep breath and let it out like her book had said, but it was difficult to do it in a way that he wouldn’t notice.

Adam’s phone rang in his pocket, slashing through the moment. He turned to answer it, and Carrie finally managed to take that breath. The children were hiding behind trees, giggling, knocking into them and causing snow to puff out in the sunlight, falling to the ground like glitter.

“Andy…” he said, taking a step away, his back to her. He was quiet, listening, and she watched him pacing, spots of wetness beginning to show on his high-dollar shoes. “If we go that route, I’m going to need a cost analysis. I can’t make that type of decision without some sort of discussion. Have you asked the team?” His back was still to her, but his pacing had brought him closer, and she tried to occupy herself with looking at the tree so as not to eavesdrop. “Shall we meet tonight and discuss it over a drink?”

She immediately thought about how late that would put Adam getting home tonight, and the disappointment of that hit her harder than it should. Instead of coming home, he’d be out having a drink. She found herself becoming oddly jealous of this Andy, wishing she, too, could go out for a drink and have a night out with adults. Her imagination started to run wild, and, all of a sudden, worry burned right through the cold on her cheeks.
Andy
. The heat spread down her neck as the thought occurred to her: What if Andy was a woman? Adam was having drinks to discuss work, but it was still drinks he was having. That seemed like more than a discussion at the office. She imagined a tall, striking woman in heels and the kind of dress that Carrie had never owned, a cocktail in her hand, her head tipping back in laughter at something Adam said. Yes, that would be more like the type of person he’d probably go out with. She looked down at her jeans and coat, her striped gloves and scarf, thinking how casual she looked. It made her feel small and insignificant.

Carrie looked at the tree she’d found. It was perfect in every way, but with nothing on it, it looked empty and lonesome. As the children ran through the lot, their laughter rising into the air, Adam walking away from her again, she felt very plain and alone, like that tree. There she was, having personal thoughts about her employer, trying to meddle in his life, making him suppers. Was she living in some fantasy world? Of course she was. She needed to grow up, get a real life, and move on. Adam Fletcher was not the kind of person she needed to be thinking about. She needed to take a good look at the college brochures she had and sort something out for after Christmas. As much as she wanted to be with children and remain a nanny, Carrie needed to move forward with her life. She knew that now more than ever.

The cold had made its way through her layers, and she was certain that the kids were probably cold too. As soon as Adam was off the phone, she was going to tell him to just buy the tree in front of her. It was a fine tree, and clearly, he needed to get back to work.

Adam let out a long sigh. “I’m going to be working late anyway to make up for the time I’ve lost today,” he said quietly into the phone. “Let’s just make it a night, shall we? You pick the place.” Still talking on the phone, he pulled out his wallet and handed Carrie his credit card, distracted by his discussion and barely making eye contact.

With that one gesture, she felt in the way, and she wished that she hadn’t bothered to ask him to help them get a tree. She imagined that this was how David and Olivia must feel. Again, he’d dismissed her actions as if they meant nothing, and that was probably true. Last time, she’d been frustrated, irritated by his behavior, but this time, her feelings were hurt. This time, he’d completely upset her. She could feel the heat still on her skin despite the cold, and she was glad for her scarf because it would hide the red spots that were now burning her neck. She’d only been trying to get him involved with his family, feel the Christmas spirit a little, but it was apparent that she had been wrong. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to fix his family. She wasn’t going to get him to know what presents to get his kids. Swallowing the lump in her throat that was forming from the way he was making her feel at that moment, she took the card from his hand and went to gather the children.