A Christmas to Remember

by Jenny Hale

  “I miss it when she tucks us in at night,” Olivia said. David nodded in agreement.

  “Well, you’re being very brave,” Carrie acknowledged. It must be hard for them, she thought, having to spend Christmas with a virtual stranger, their father too busy to spend any time with them, their mother away. As an adult, Carrie understood that kind of loneliness, and she felt for the children. They were too young to feel like that, especially when their father could relieve them of it in a second if he’d just pay more attention to them. She wondered what their mother was like. Did she play with them? Did she do things, take them places? Quietly, still thinking about the children, she helped David unpack the rest of the Christmas decorations. Carrie was glad that she could be there for them so that she could try to ease their fears if they needed her. They shouldn’t be worrying, she thought. They should be enjoying Christmas.

  A few minutes had passed when she looked back at Olivia. She’d covered the post of the banister with the greenery, using almost all of it, and wrapping it so tightly that the post wasn’t even visible.

  “I’ll help you get the rest up in a minute, Olivia. You’re doing great.”

  “Is this right?” she asked.

  “You know, it looks lovely, but I may have to use some of it to do the rest of the balcony. The store didn’t send enough to make it as nice as you’re doing it. I’ll help you thin it out in just a second. Let me get David some light bulbs so he can test these lights for me.” She reached into the box and pulled out the light bulbs. “Here we go,” she said, screwing one into the candle that David was holding. “Let me plug it in for you and then you test the switch. How about that?”

  David puffed his chest and looked around, obviously happy with the task he’d been given. With a very focused expression, he held a candle, setting down the other, and turned the switch. “This one works,” he said in his best grown-up voice. “Let me try this one now.” His little fingers fumbled a bit with the switch but he got it on. “This one works too.”

  “Fantastic. Maybe you can start standing them up against the wall there,” Carrie pointed to the wall closest to him. “We’ll know that those are the ones that light up just fine. Good work, David.” He gave her a solemn nod and went back to unwrapping more window candles.

  “You know, your grandma and grandpa will be coming in a few days. We’ll have to get the house all Christmassy for them,” Carrie said, trying to make a little conversation as she carefully unwound Olivia’s greenery.

  “Is there a Christmas tree in that box?” Olivia asked. “It’ll be awfully small.”

  “No,” Carrie chuckled, “I thought we’d take your daddy with us to get a tree.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Well, because he may want to help us pick it out.”

  “He won’t want to.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because, silly, he has to work!” Olivia giggled, but Carrie felt the weight of her words Adam had shown his kids that he’d rather work than be with them. They didn’t even believe that he was capable of wanting to get a Christmas tree.

  “David, don’t you think your daddy would like to get a Christmas tree with us?”

  “He’ll probably tell us to get it. That’s what he does when we need things.”

  “Well, I think we should ask him to go. Let’s tell him how wonderful it will be and make him want to go with us. I think it would be fun.” Carrie was hoping to convince the children, but their looks to one another told her she may have some more persuading to do.

  It was after eight o’clock again when Adam got home. He entered the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. Does he ever switch that thing off? she wondered.

  “What’s the printing cost if we switched printers?” he said, his eyes darting to Carrie and then away. The excitement she felt seeing him mixed with the frustration she had for the way he ignored everyone, giving her a headache. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the pinch there but stopped quickly when Adam turned around. “While you’re with the team,” he said, still not looking at Carrie, “let them know that I’ve signed off on the Westwood building with Robert. I’m sure glad we had him on our side.”

  Carrie sat at the table with a bowl of stew she’d cooked during the day and two cards made by Olivia and David. “…And I’ll need a cost proposal for the printing.” Adam shrugged off his coat and set his shoes neatly by the door to the hallway. Carrie got up and dished Adam a bowl of stew from the pot that she had warming on the stove. Then, she poured two glasses of the wine from the bottle that he had opened last night. He seemed to finally notice that she’d prepared supper and said, “Okay. Let me chew on the rest a while. I’ll call you back.” He set his phone onto the counter and turned toward the table.

  She was getting a little less nervous around him, which was good since she’d have to see him every night. She could at least form sentences. Maybe it was her impatience with his work that was making the nerves subside. She was too bothered to be nervous. While she understood that having his own business would certainly take a lot of work, the fact that he couldn’t spare any time at all rubbed her the wrong way. But still, she felt almost giddy when he entered a room. She wasn’t trying to, but she noticed his idiosyncrasies, his habits, his mannerisms, and learned them almost immediately. Her heart raced whenever he looked at her, and she craved his smile, any attention at all that would give her a chance to see his gorgeous face. Already, she felt invested in his family, in him.

  “I thought I told you that you didn’t have to make me supper,” he said with a tired grin.

  “I didn’t. I made myself supper. You just benefitted from the large recipe,” she teased, hoping she hadn’t crossed any lines. She took a risk teasing him, but seeing his friendly grin, she felt like she could. “Wine?” She held out a glass. He smiled that smile that could make her knees buckle. There was something there between them, as if she’d known him longer than she had—at least on her end. Even when she was frustrated by his behavior, she was glad to have him around. She felt as though her real personality was finally emerging through the nervousness. As long as he didn’t look at her too long, she could manage. And, when he finally stopped working for a second, it was nice to have his company. While she loved the children, she enjoyed having an adult around. She wished he’d stay still, sit down, and talk to her. She was interested in knowing more about him, but he seemed to always be on the move, always working.

  “Have you been baking?” he asked.

  “No. Just the stew. Why?”

  “I smell peppermint.”

  “Oh, it’s the Christmas candle.” She pointed to a large red and white striped jar flickering on the island. It had been one of the purchases she’d made with his credit card.

  “It’s nice,” he said. When he sat down, she slid the two cards toward him. “What’s this?” he asked, taking a sip of wine.

  “David and Olivia have written you a letter.” She put her finger on the front of each card. “Why You Should Get a Christmas Tree With Us,” she read, looking up at him as anxiety tickled her skin. She didn’t know him very well, and she was pushing things to impose something like this on him It made her feel a little worried that she’d offend him, but she’d already started the conversation, so she’d better finish it. Trying to keep her hands steady, she opened the cards. “Olivia said that you should get a Christmas tree because they are heavy, and you can help to carry it for us. See,” she tapped a circle with eyes on the paper, “this is you carrying the tree.” She took David’s card and read it aloud. “David says you should get a Christmas tree with us because you could help us pay for it. That’s his money there.” She set the cards down on the table. “Olivia thinks you’re strong and David thinks you can provide for the family.” She didn’t want to point out the obvious—that neither child said they wanted to be with their daddy to get a tree. She was hopeful that Adam would make that connection and realize that he needed to be with them sometimes i
f he ever planned on having any kind of bond with them.

  He studied the cards for quite some time, and Carrie wondered if he understood her message. Was he contemplating the fact that he hadn’t spent any time with them since she’d been there and probably before that? Or was he actually wishing they had written something more loving in their cards? He didn’t seem heartless whenever she was with him, but his behavior said otherwise. Didn’t he care that his children didn’t know him? Surely he did.

  He cleared his throat and looked up. “When would we buy this Christmas tree?”

  “How about Saturday?”

  He was looking at her face, but it was clear that he was thinking, not waiting. “I was planning on going into the office this weekend. I need to get a few things done, and there’s no way I’ll get them finished by Friday.” He shook his head. “Things are very busy right now.”

  “Maybe one evening?”

  “They’re asleep when I get home.”

  In every other part of her life, she was unsure and a little nervous, but when it came to the needs of children, she was as fierce as any businesswoman. She wasn’t backing down. Carrie mustered all her strength and said, “Maybe you can find some time when you can come home while they’re awake.”

  His eyes narrowed just slightly, and she could feel the acid stirring in her gut. She’d bothered him with her suggestion. She could tell that he didn’t like her prying into this personal realm.

  “Easier said than done.”

  Even though she’d known him only a short time, she felt that she needed to be honest with him. He’d better get used to it anyway because that was who she was. She wouldn’t act differently on his account. “From what I’ve seen so far, you seem pretty good at getting things done. Perhaps you can get this done as well.”

  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.”

  Chapter Seven

  Deep 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 n
early 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.