by Jenny Hale
There were three quiet taps at her door. She took one last look in the mirror and walked over to open it. When she did, Adam was standing in the doorway, wearing a tuxedo. She could hardly keep her heartbeat from showing through her dress. After she’d scrambled to calm herself enough to focus on his face, she realized that he looked the same way she felt. His lips were parted as if he were going to say something, his eyes taking in the sight of her from her new shoes up to her hair, but he was silent.
Then the smile. “You look positively radiant,” he said. She’d never heard anyone call her radiant, but it came off his lips effortlessly, and she could tell he’d meant it. “Shall we head out? I’ve already got the car running.” He held out his arm, and she linked hers in his. It was the first time she’d touched him like that—with the exception of their collision in the snow—but she was so intent on not falling in her heels that she didn’t let herself get too excited over it, and she was glad, as they started down the stairs, for the support.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Adam said, his eyes darting over to her as he drove carefully through the snow, down the winding roads that stretched out beyond the city. Now she felt like she needed to be nervous just because he’d said that. She folded her hands in her lap as a precaution in case they started to shake. “The Marleys live in a house that is so big it has its own name. It’s called the Ashford Estate. But Robert is more down to earth than anyone you’ll ever meet.”
The house was about twenty minutes’ drive out of the city. They’d passed acres of farmland—mostly horse farms and corn fields—and then, out of nowhere, sitting atop a hill, she saw it: The Ashford Estate. It was a gigantic brick home, with so many windows across the front that she was sure she’d lose count before they’d parked the car. While Adam’s home was old—probably built in the twenties—this was something completely different. It looked like it had been built well before the turn of the century, probably, she reckoned, the eighteen hundreds. It had a sprawling staircase with a half circle drive in front. The drive was full of luxury vehicles—Cadillac, Mercedes, Range Rover—more than she could mentally label. And now there was a BMW. They pulled to a stop and got out.
“They have great parties here,” he said. “They used to be on Christmas Eve every year, but since we all have kids, Allie convinced Robert to make it on a different night. Their party favors will blow you away,” he said, as he held her car door open for her and offered his hand.
Adam helped her out of the car and shut the door. Carrie lifted her dress so as not to let the hem drag on the snowy ground, but once she was around the other side of the car, she saw there was a bright red carpet that stretched from the drive all the way up the stairs and to the front door where it was anchored by a mass of poinsettias on each side. They passed tree after tree of white lights; it looked like every tree on the entire property had been decorated with them. When they got to the staircase, she noticed that the railings and the base of every one of the windows had been decorated in live greenery with red sashes intertwined. “What kind of party favors?” she asked, trying to make conversation so she’d feel like this was all normal somehow.
“Last year, we all got a two-hundred dollar bottle of wine.”
When he’d said party favors, she was thinking maybe a small bag of chocolates or a noisemaker. Not a two-hundred dollar bottle of wine! She let her eyes trace the brick all the way up to the roof and the four chimneys protruding from it. The house, with its giant wings on either side of the main building, stretching the length of the property, had to have a staff to run it. It was absolutely huge. She’d never seen a house like this before. She shivered in the cold. Carrie only owned a casual coat, and she didn’t want to wear it with the beautiful dress that Adam had bought her, so she was standing out in the freezing cold wearing only satin. Adam rang the doorbell, and it sounded like musical chimes.
A man in a tuxedo let them in and closed the massive door behind them. Carrie looked around the space, realizing that they weren’t in a room but an entranceway the size of a room. It had the most gorgeous glass chandelier hanging above them. She bet it was bigger than one of those fancy cars outside. Everything felt like a dream as the holiday music poured through the speakers, men with silver trays offered champagne and strawberries, others with trays of canapés. Then, she saw Allie coming toward her. She looked absolutely glowing, her brown hair swept up, with simple teardrop earrings to match her dress that was the same color as her hazel eyes. It had a low scoop neck, and it gathered in an empire waist above her pregnant belly. As she walked, Carrie smiled because she could make out that her shoes were flat ballet-slipper style but they matched her dress perfectly.
“Hello!” she greeted them, grabbing two flutes of champagne from one of the waiters and handing them to Carrie and Adam. “I’m happy you two could come!” She offered Carrie a big, genuine smile. “I’m so glad I get to see you again,” she said. “I’d love to hear your nanny stories later on.” There was a buzz of an amplifier and then a few chords. “Oh! The band’s about to play,” she said, leading them into a living room that was the size of a ballroom. There was a fire going at one end, and the band was setting up in the corner next to it. At the other end of the room was a Christmas tree that stretched to the ceiling. It was at least two stories high. The room was full of people dressed in fine clothes, and Carrie was glad to have someone like Allie there, who could make her feel like she belonged. “I’m just going to find Robert,” she said over the music. “Make yourselves at home. Dance!”
Allie seemed too much like her to be in such decadent surroundings. But at the same time, there was something inviting about the house. Growing up, Carrie had read fairytales; she knew what a mansion and Prince Charming should be like. This wasn’t like that at all. Even as her friends had moved on in life—not even half as financially successful as the people around her now—she’d found their success intimidating. She realized at this moment that as people grew up, they might have mansions, they might not, but they were still people. Allie had all this money, and she’d been a nanny just like Carrie. She was inviting and sweet. It made Carrie feel like she wasn’t any different than the people around her. They may have gone to fancy universities, traveled, and held jobs that paid more than hers, but they had feelings, insecurities, and wants just like her.
She looked up at Adam. The stress of work was gone from his face tonight and replaced by a smile. His eyes were affectionate, the little lines showing around them as they squinted just slightly with his grin when he looked at her. The band had started to play—something quiet and Christmassy. It made her feel festive, like the holiday had finally arrived. With that feeling, however, came a feeling of dread because she didn’t want it all to end. Not just the party, the whole experience. This was the most wonderful Christmas she’d had since childhood, and she knew that it would be hard to top it. She didn’t want to go back to North Carolina, never seeing Adam again, or the twins, or Walter or Joyce. She didn’t want to leave Adam’s side at this party and have him drive her home to her quiet room. She wanted it all to last forever. She didn’t know what to do because she knew exactly what made her feel whole. She just didn’t know how to get it.
“Would you like to dance?” Adam asked. She couldn’t believe it. Allie had suggested dancing, but she’d never have guessed that he’d actually want to. She liked it when he surprised her. The thought of his arms around her, his body close to her, made her feel unsteady in her heels. She took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to keep the splotches from coming, and nodded. She wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation. He was her boss. She’d only come because Allie had offered to have her. Against her will, her mind went to Andy. She wasn’t as poised as someone like Andy, who could probably handle this moment with grace. Had he wanted to bring her, and Allie’s suggestion had ruined his plan? Was Andy sitting home tonight when Adam really wanted to dance with her?
Couples had filtered in near the band in an area that
had been cleared for that purpose, and they walked over to join the crowd. Adam took Carrie’s champagne and set it with his on a nearby table. Then, he reached for her and put his arm around her waist. She tried to breathe slowly so he couldn’t feel how her breath had sped up. She took in the gentle way his fingers wrapped around hers, the feel of his hand, and it felt like a perfect fit. Her mind ran wild and she wondered again what his fingers would feel like on her face, her neck. When his arm was around her, it made her feel shielded, protected from all her insecurities. As their feet moved slowly to the music, her dress swaying around her ankles, she took in the fact that she was in a dress far more sophisticated than she’d ever worn, in a mansion of a home. She would remember this moment forever.
Unsure of where to let her gaze fall, she looked up at him, and her breath caught. He was looking right at her. Just like the waves on the beach in the summer, she pulled back, but there was a force beyond her control pulling her toward him. His eyes were unwavering, certain. As the music played around her, she could feel the magnitude of the moment. It was heavy and light at the same time: heavy with emotion, light with energy. She could feel the movement of his chest against her, and she realized that he was breathing deeply. Was he going to kiss her? Before she could find out, the song ended, and he pulled away.
She followed him off the makeshift dance floor. They walked over to the fire, the burning embers giving a homey smell to the large room. Had she imagined the chemistry between them? Was it all in her mind? He was turned away from her, still holding her hand, leading her closer to the fire. She didn’t need its warmth; her skin burned with the emotions of the moment. In her mind, she’d crossed over the professional-personal line. Perhaps it was the way she felt in that dress, all made up, as if she could belong with someone like Adam. Perhaps it was the magic in the air at such a lavish party as Ashford’s. Whatever it was, it had left her feeling like it could all really happen. She tried to ground herself in reality, but it was hard to do that with everything around her. Allie and Robert were walking toward them, pulling her out of the moment.
“Found him!” Allie said with a smile. Adam grabbed their drinks from the table and handed Carrie hers. She tipped it back, the bubbly liquid filling her mouth, and set it on the tray nearby. As the waiter walked past, she grabbed another.
Robert stood behind Allie, his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the tops of her arms as if she were cold. Allie leaned against Robert and tipped her head back to make eye contact with him, an adoring look on her face. Carrie wished she could be that way with Adam. It would be so easy to wrap her arms around him. Had Andy ever been so lucky? She took another large swig of her champagne to drown out the thought.
A little boy walked up wearing a tuxedo, his hair combed perfectly to one side. “Excuse me, Uncle Robert,” he said. “Have you seen Mom?” The sight of this little boy pulled Carrie back to reality. She was so glad to see a little face in this crowd of people. He looked to be around six or seven.
“No, Paul, I haven’t. Give her a minute, though. She may be checking to see if Sammy can sleep with all this racket going on,” he smiled. When the little boy ran off, his actions in juxtaposition with his attire, Robert said, “That was my nephew. I’d have introduced him, but he doesn’t stay still these days, as you can see. His little brother, Sammy, and our Carolyn are both asleep, but we let him stay up since he’s the big boy.” He smiled again.
“He’s adorable,” she said.
“Boys are definitely different from girls,” Robert said. He placed his hand on his wife’s belly. “I don’t know what we’ll do when we have our own.”
“Boy?” Carrie said, unable to disguise her happiness. Allie nodded, giving another loving look to her husband. “One of each! That’s fantastic.”
Carrie was genuinely happy for these people, even though she barely knew them. Mixed with that happiness, however, was a sense of longing for her own family. She didn’t need a fancy house like this one or even one like Adam’s—all she wanted was someone whom she loved to share her life with and children of her own. Everything else would just be icing on the cake. She felt a pang of sadness for Sharon hit her unexpectedly. Sharon had a loving husband, a great extended family, everything she needed to make the perfect home for a child, and she’d been denied it. Carrie couldn’t imagine having a life with no children, so she understood why Sharon kept trying. Carrie decided that if the same thing had happened to her, she’d never quit trying.
“Cheers to one of each,” Adam said, grabbing his champagne from the table and raising it in the air.
“Thank you,” Robert said. “And drink up,” he kidded, raising his own glass and taking a sip. “Would you like a few bottles of champagne to take home, Adam? We left my brother, Kip, in charge of the order, and we have so much that we have nowhere to store it all. I think he may have done it on purpose so he could take a truckload home when he leaves.”
Adam laughed and said to Carrie, “You’d have to know Kip to know how funny that is.”
“I’m not kidding,” Robert said. “I’ll have Gerard put some in your car…”
Carrie thought about what they would do with champagne at the Fletchers’. Would she and Adam get to drink it? Would they sit by the fire instead of their usual suppers at the kitchen table? She could feel the hope rising up, and she squashed it back down, knowing how foolish she was being. Get real, she thought. Just like Cinderella, all of this would be gone in the morning. Soon, Adam would go back to work, and things would be just like they’d been. Just like Joyce and Bruce and the rest of his family, she didn’t want him to go to work anymore. She wasn’t just bothered, she could feel it in her chest. She was starting to hate his work for pulling on him so much, even if he did love it. The difference was, she wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t bother her, like his family did. She was going to let him know—and she’d keep letting him know—how much they all wanted him around. Would she be strong enough tomorrow, without the champagne to give her the courage? Would she really be able to tell him what she felt?
They never did put any champagne in Adam’s car. Robert and Allie were on the other side of the great room when Adam had suggested they leave. The kids would be up early, and he said he was worried about Carrie being tired. He waved to Robert across the room. The man who had let them in at the start of the party also let them out. He handed them a gift basket. Adam took it and let it swing by his side as he helped Carrie onto the steps. The icy air was frigid against Carrie’s skin that had been warmed considerably by the champagne and the fire inside. Being with Adam like this had been like a dream, and she didn’t want to leave. Who cared if it was all in her head. She just wanted to have a little longer with Adam all to herself. It was selfish, but she didn’t care. Before she could think anything else, Adam set the basket down onto the runner leading to the half circle of a drive and looked at her.
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 co
ming to an end.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Don’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.
