by Jenny Hale
With a deep breath, Carrie pushed away from the table, cleared her dishes, and cleaned up the kitchen. Before going upstairs, she dished Adam some food, put it in the refrigerator, and left him a note with directions for heating it up, just in case he hadn’t eaten with Andy. Then, she grabbed her book and went to bed.
Carrie peered out the front window at the enormous camper pulling in. The snow had melted considerably, revealing the black of the street and the aggregate driveway. It was definitely a different scene now than the one she’d encountered five days ago when she’d arrived, but another storm was headed for them by the end of the day and, most likely, it would all be covered in snow and ice again by the morning.
“Is Grandma Joyce here?” Olivia asked, bouncing on her toes, the plastic of her pink and silver sparkle princess dress-up high heels causing a clacking sound against the hardwoods. Anxiety washed over Carrie as she looked down at the twins, just now noticing that they weren’t perfectly dressed the way Natalie would have had them. Olivia was wearing her dress-up princess costume over top of a pair of blue leggings and a green floral shirt. Her hair was bunched beneath her plastic crown, wisps falling around her face. David had jeans and a superhero T-shirt that he must have found in his summer clothes drawer when he’d dressed himself this morning.
She watched as the camper pulled forward and backward, making tracks in the snow, over and over in an attempt to park the gigantic vehicle in the driveway. The sky above it was a dark gray—the kind of sky that would dump snow at any moment—a far cry from yesterday’s blue. Carrie wondered about the people in that camper. What were Adam’s parents like? Were they as wealthy as Adam? Were they workaholics like him? Overachievers? She’d never had extended family in the house while she was watching children before. Would they make things more complicated for her? Would they judge her by the way she’d dressed the children? Would their expectations for the kids be different than hers? It could make for a very difficult holiday if they didn’t agree with her methods.
The camper finally came to a stop. The driver’s side door opened, and a man got out. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a wool coat, and he didn’t look very intimidating. When he turned around, she bit her lip to keep from smiling. She knew exactly who he was just by looking at him, and she knew what Adam would look like in another twenty-five or so odd years. She’d never seen someone look so much like someone else before. The man’s hair was silver, and his stance wasn’t as strong as Adam’s, but he looked just like him. The door opened on the other side and a petite woman with a gentle expression got out. Her gray hair fell just above her shoulders, and she had it tucked behind her ears. She had on a giant coat that nearly swallowed her, her petite legs barely showing beneath it. She was rubbing her arms to keep warm as she walked around the camper. Carrie let the smile finally emerge when she saw the man put his arm around her and try to warm her up. She remembered when she’d been sitting in her car outside this very house, and she wondered what it would feel like to have someone to keep her warm.
The man let go of his wife to help an elderly man that was wobbling down the step of the camper, grabbing on to the side of the vehicle for support and barely getting down on his own. Her first inclination was to run out and help him—he looked very unsteady—but he seemed more stable once he was on the ground. The man pulled a walker out of the camper and placed it in front of him. Carrie worried that he’d never get it through the snow outside, and she wished someone had shoveled the walk.
The family didn’t look intimidating or even overly wealthy, which was surprising. After seeing Adam’s huge house and all the expensive things in it, she’d just assumed that they would be. But the truth was, they looked a lot like her own parents. A sense of calm wrapped around her like a warm blanket as she saw their affection for one another. Then, she had a jolt of excitement as she noted the license plate on the camper. It was from North Carolina—her home state. Immediately, she wondered what part of North Carolina they were from. Had Adam grown up there? He must have worked to lessen his southern drawl over the years. At least if she had to spend time with a family that wasn’t her own, they were people to whom she could most likely relate.
The back door of the camper opened and two more people got out: a woman—his sister? Then, a man. Carrie felt her heart speed up as she heard the clank of the camper doors shutting through the window. The group started walking toward the house. Olivia ran to open it, David following behind her.
“Grandma Joyce!” Olivia called out, swinging the front door wide open and trying to step onto the snowy front steps with her princess heels.
“I’ll come to you, Olivia,” the woman said with a grin that lit up her entire face. She darted around the two men as they made their way to the door. As the woman got closer, Carrie noticed that her eyes were the same blue as Adam’s. “You’re gonna slip if you come out here. I’m coming.” Carrie definitely recognized her accent. It sent a soothing feeling through her. There was something unique about the accents in the southern states; each one of them had their own slight differences. It was the way she said the word “I” and the drawl in the name “Olivia” that had given her away. It was the same drawl she’d heard when her mother had read her books at night all snuggled up in bed. Her “I” sounded just like her dad’s had when he told her stories.
David—the ever protective and focused twin brother—reached out for Olivia’s hand, helping awkwardly to get her off the snow and back into the house. “Come back in,” he said, his face full of concern. His seriousness and the way he looked out for his sister was so sweet. Carrie worried that he wouldn’t have the influences in his life that he needed to retain his natural inclination to be helpful and attentive. “Hi, Grandpa Bruce!” he said, waving from the open door.
“Hey there, squirt!” the man said as he reached the front steps. The older man grabbed the railing and worked his way up. Bruce smiled like Adam too, but there was something wise about his smile that was different than his son’s. Adam’s was more affectionate, whereas this man’s smile showed years of understanding, as if everything he’d done in life were showing through his eyes. She could tell that he was an intelligent man, but he didn’t seem overly stuffy or standoffish in any way. Carrie was glad for that. Adam wasn’t snobbish, despite his money, but his confidence had made her wonder about the people who had raised him, and she had worried that she couldn’t measure up to a family like the one she’d conjured in her head. She was glad that her worry was in vain.
“Hello,” Grandma Joyce said when her gaze fell upon Carrie. She held out her hand in greeting, a big smile spread across her face. She had hardly a wrinkle. Just by looking at her, Carrie could tell so much about her character: the warmth in her eyes, her caring expression, her gentle but firm grip on Carrie’s hand. Any worry that she still had about Adam’s family melted away with that one introduction. “I hope Adam told you we were coming. I’m Adam’s mother Joyce, and this is his father Bruce.”
“Yes. He did tell me. It’s nice to meet you,” Carrie said, trying to look as professional as possible in her sock feet and jeans, though they didn’t seem like the type of people to mind.
The other two people came up the steps. The woman was considerably thin, even through her big coat, her long fingers peeking out from the sleeves. Her wedding ring looked gigantic on her skinny fingers, hanging loosely, the diamond sliding to the side. She had sandy brown hair—long and thin just like she was, and a soft but serious expression. When her eyes met Carrie’s, the corners of her mouth went up only slightly to acknowledge their meeting, but that was all. The woman was clearly battling something. The sadness in her face was the kind of sadness that is only created over a long period of time. The way a rock becomes smooth in the tide, the woman’s face had done the opposite in some kind of storm. There was so much there in her face and the way she held herself that Carrie had a ton of questions going through her head: What had she experienced that the rest of her family had not to make he
r so sad? Was she happy to be there? Did she wish she were somewhere else? The other person, a man with curly hair and big brown eyes, came up behind the woman and put his hand on her back, almost as if holding her up.
“This is Adam’s sister Sharon,” Joyce said, moving out of the way so that Sharon could formally greet Carrie. Carrie smiled and gestured for them to enter.
Sharon stepped forward to come in, the snow crunching beneath her feet. If it weren’t for her quiet smile, Carrie would have thought her to be a little anxious. She had light skin like her mother, and gentle eyes, although they looked tired. She played with her fingers as if it were a nervous habit just before reaching out and offering a hand to Carrie. “Hello,” she said in a quiet voice. She shook hands and then turned toward the man with curly hair. “This is my husband Eric.”
“They’re leaving me out, but I’m Walter, Adam’s grandfather,” the elderly man said in a lighthearted way as he trailed behind them all. Joyce was already shaking her head, an amused look on her face. She grabbed his walker as Walter held on to the door frame to help himself up the step at the door. He was wearing a houndstooth cap that snapped in the front and a wool scarf over his tan coat.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Carrie said, squaring her shoulders and nodding like she should, although she was putting on a more formal air for their benefit. She already felt generally comfortable around them, which said a lot for their first impressions. Walter patted her on the shoulder and offered her a smile not unlike her own grandfather would have done, his legs becoming unsteady with just the gesture, so he leaned back onto this walker for support.
“I’m glad Adam told you about us,” Joyce said, closing the door after everyone had entered. “He failed, however, to mention you!”
“I’m so sorry—I thought he would have,” she said, smiling back but feeling a twinge of insignificance creeping in. “I’m Carrie Blake.” As she thought about it, it didn’t surprise her that Adam had neglected to tell his family that he’d had a change in staff. How did he possibly have any time to make a phone call to his family when he barely had time to eat? She had noticed, when she’d let Rose in to clean this morning, that he’d rinsed out and set in the sink the dishes from dinner that she’d prepared, and she was glad that she’d made it for him, even though she was still annoyed with his behavior. This morning, he’d gone before the kids had gotten her up, and she hadn’t heard a peep from him all day.
Joyce picked Olivia up and gave her a squeeze. Olivia’s shoes hung by the strap at her toes, the princess heels dangling from each foot. The little girl wrapped her arms around Joyce’s neck. It was nice to see Olivia be so open and affectionate with her grandmother. Carrie was glad that the children had someone in their lives who showed them they were worth their time. She didn’t like the way Adam spent his days as if they weren’t there. He had passed off responsibility for them by getting a nanny, and if he spent any time with them at all, it was by accident when he ran into them on his way to do something else. As Joyce held Olivia, rubbing noses with her, smiling, talking to her, Carrie knew that this woman must have been the same loving woman when she’d raised Adam. What had turned him into the person he was now? Was she missing something?
“Do you live here?” Joyce asked, glancing down at Carrie’s sock feet. Her face was more curious than bothered, but it made Carrie feel self-conscious. She worried again about what she was presenting in terms of appearances. Had they met Natalie, and did they expect Carrie to be like her? This was how she always dressed when watching children, but as she thought of Natalie, she realized that not everyone followed the same dress code. Carrie didn’t have a dress code at all. Certainly, if she were taking the kids out somewhere, she’d spruce herself up a bit, put on something presentable, and dress the kids accordingly, but on a regular day, she and the children needed clothing that was suitable for exploration, for learning, clothing they could get wrinkled, get paint on, get wet. There were so many opportunities for the children every day to learn and have fun. If they were dressed in their best clothes, they’d miss out on things like bathtub boat races or baking homemade pies.
They were all still huddled in the entryway, so Carrie led them down the hallway where they could hang up their coats. “Yes, I live here,” she said.
Joyce’s eyes widened, a look of surprise on her face. The look was a happy-surprised look, like someone has when they’ve just opened the perfect present. She scanned Carrie from her head to her toes. “Well, this is exciting news, Bruce!” Joyce turned to the man who looked like Adam, every inch of her face showing delight. Carrie had hoped for Adam’s family to be agreeable, but this was more than she’d anticipated. “It’s good to see Adam moving forward.” While Carrie was still trying to process her words, Joyce had put Olivia down and had wrapped her arms around David’s shoulders. “Isn’t it, Bruce?”
Carrie was so confused that she couldn’t even hide it. She felt her face crumple with misunderstanding. Then, the light bulb went off. “Oh! I’m the nanny,” she said quickly, realizing that Joyce must have thought she was Adam’s new girlfriend! “I just started. It’s my third day.”
“Oh dear!” Joyce laughed. “Sorry.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe her blunder. “It’s just…” She shook her head again. When she looked back at Carrie, there were thoughts on her face, and it looked like her hopes had been dashed just a bit. She certainly had been excited at the idea of Adam dating. Perhaps she, too, was hoping that Adam would spend less time on work and more time on his personal life. What had Joyce wanted to say? Whatever it was, it was clear she wasn’t going to finish the thought.
Carrie asked for their coats in an attempt to change the subject. She hung them up in the closet, and they all walked together into the living room. Walter grabbed onto Bruce’s arm for support, leaving his walker in the hallway. He’d pushed it up against the wall—it looked so small in that giant hallway. When they sat down, the conversation quieted for a moment, making Carrie feel a little awkward. She turned toward the tree she’d decorated with the children.
The Christmas tree sent light across the polished hardwoods all the way up to the carpet-style shaggy rug that sat under the furniture. It gave the room a coziness and complemented the oversized mantle around the fireplace. Carrie had draped greenery along it—long, wide garlands of spruce with velvet cranberry-colored bows to match the tree skirt—she had other plans for decorating the mantle as well, she just hadn’t shared with the children what they were yet. They all sat on the down-filled sofas that flanked the room. David asked if he could go play in the playroom but Olivia stayed back.
“Forgive me, but I don’t know why Adam needed a nanny,” Joyce said, her southern drawl strong and thick. “We could’ve just come up earlier. Or, heaven forbid, he take an extra few days off to do something non-work-related.” Joyce’s gaze settled on the Christmas tree. “At least he’s decorated for Christmas, which is more than I’d expected.” Joyce’s distaste for Adam’s choices was evident, but she’d kept her face light, smiling and friendly.
Her own mother used to do that too whenever she didn’t agree with Carrie. If she’d decided to wait until night to do her homework, her mother would smile and say, “I don’t think that’s wise, Carrie, but if you feel you can get it all done, then so be it.” She wouldn’t say anything more, and usually, Carrie would spend more hours than she’d planned finishing her homework, getting to bed later than she’d expected. Her mother had always known the right answers, the right things to do, but she never demanded that Carrie do them. She’d always let Carrie choose herself. It didn’t take long before she realized that she’d better start her homework right after school just in case it took longer than she thought. Joyce was similar today. She was scolding Adam, but at the same time, allowing him to make his own choices, however misguided they were. The only problem was that Adam may not have learned from his choices. He may have thought they were just fine.
“Carrie did our tree!” Oliv
ia said. “And me! And David. We made that pretty tree ourselves!” Olivia leaned on the sofa, bouncing against it with her hands. Then she tipped her head toward Joyce, her face right next to her grandmother’s. “Carrie made Daddy go with us to pick it out,” she giggled.
Heat swelled under Carrie’s skin. Was it even obvious to a four-year-old that he wouldn’t have come on his own? Clearly, it didn’t seem to bother Olivia, but it troubled Carrie that Olivia thought it was silly that her father had come—as if it were so out of the ordinary, that it was a ridiculous idea. She could feel the redness emerge like fire on her cheeks from worry for Olivia and David as she looked at Joyce. Adam’s mother was watching her intently, not breaking eye contact, and the change in expression made Carrie almost as nervous as Adam had. True, Carrie had done it for the children, but, she had to admit, that there was a tiny piece of her that wanted him around. He hadn’t given her any reason to feel that way, but she did, and she worried that Joyce could see right through to her thoughts.
“So Carrie made Daddy come, did she?” Joyce said, a smile playing at her lips. “Nobody makes your daddy do anything. Perhaps he wanted to go,” she said, letting the smile emerge for Olivia’s benefit.
Carrie had been so caught up in her own feelings, she never considered what Adam may have felt on the matter. Even though he’d been distant and uninvolved the whole time, he had come with them to the tree lot. Carrie thought about Joyce’s words. Had he wanted to go? The image of his little laugh before that smile came to mind, knotting her stomach right up. She pushed the thought away, knowing she was way out of her league.
Chapter Nine
To improve your personal life, try to make connections with new people. Carrie struggled with that particular line because she didn’t know how to go about making those friendships. But tonight, while Adam was still at work, she had a chance to do just that. Walter had pulled her aside, making conversation just for the sake of something to do, like all the elderly people she knew.
