A Christmas to Remember

by Jenny Hale

  “Oh!” she laughed. “I hope he’s not cleaning for me.”

  “Yes he is! He said he wants everything to be perfect for you. I even had to clean my room!”

  “She didn’t clean it very well,” David said in the background.

  “Well, I’ll see you two in a few minutes, okay?”

  “Okay, Carrie.”

  “Bye!”

  The picture faded to black on her phone, leaving Carrie with a grin as she held her coffee with both hands to warm them up. The mental image of Adam cleaning sent a giggle running through her, and she couldn’t stop smiling.

  She’d been on a few dates in Wilmington, and she’d had a good time, but no one had affected her like Adam had. They got each other in a way that she hadn’t been able to replicate with anyone else. It was strange because they were both very different people, they had different likes, different temperaments, but when it came to understanding each other, their relationship was perfect. She often wondered about him—if he was dating anyone, if he was doing well—and she couldn’t believe her luck when the job in Richmond rolled around. She hadn’t planned to come back. She’d driven all the way to Richmond to interview, but she didn’t tell him she was there because she didn’t want to see him only to have to leave again.

  Snowflakes were falling as she left the coffee shop. It was nothing like that storm last year, but it was nice to see snow again. Barely enough to require her windshield wipers, she put them on intermittently as she pulled the U-Haul down the street toward the Fletchers’. When she arrived, she stopped and stared as she saw the house. Adam had decorated for Christmas. The candles were lit, the greenery on the banisters outside, and she could see the lights of the tree through the window.

  She sat for a moment in her car, taking it all in. Excitement tickled its way up her spine like a shiver. She was about to see Adam for the first time since she’d left a year ago. It seemed like yesterday. She’d spent a year getting to know him better over email, which was strange, but being so far apart, they had no other way. Countless times she wished she could just sit across from him like she had in his kitchen and talk until the sun rose. In the last few months, he’d emailed her almost daily. She’d even tried to coach him in writing to make a soufflé. The photo he’d sent over of the final product proved that she really needed to be there to help him out. He was a lost cause when it came to making those. Now, the zinging excitement that she felt at finally getting to be with him, face to face, was making her giddy.

  Her phone lit up on the seat in her car. The screen said “Adam,” and she smiled to herself.

  “Hello?”

  “Is that you sitting outside in your car?”

  She laughed. “I’m just admiring your decorating.”

  “Well, I learned from the best. Come inside. It’s freezing out there.”

  Carrie turned the engine off and got out of the car. For the first time, she could see the green lawn and the perfectly trimmed hedges. The snow was barely falling, and it hadn’t covered everything yet like it had last time. She walked up the steps and before she hit the bell, the door opened and there he was. Exhilaration shot through her limbs all the way down to her fingertips. She tried to get a deep breath to calm herself without making it too obvious. They both stood still for just a moment. It had been a long time. His hair was a little shorter, but everything else was the same. He was smiling, his excitement shining out through his eyes.

  “Hey,” she said as if she’d just left him yesterday.

  “Hey.” He opened the door wider to let her come in.

  “The house looks nice,” she said, chewing on a smile. “It’s very… clean.”

  “Mm hm.” He closed the door. He was looking at her, and she knew instantly—as if she’d never left him—that unspoken language of theirs. It sent flutters through her stomach. “It’s so good to see you,” he said.

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  They both fell silent, as if both of them were taking in the fact that they were together again.

  “Did you bring a dress?”

  “I did.”

  “Allie will be happy to see you. You can meet Zach, Carolyn’s new little brother.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  David came in from the kitchen. “Hi, Carrie!” he said with more enthusiasm than she’d ever seen from him.

  “Hi, David! You’ve gotten tall!”

  He smiled shyly and then said, “Daddy, can we show her the trains we built?”

  Adam nodded. “Let’s show her in a few minutes. We’ll let her get settled first.”

  “Okay. I’ll go get Olivia.” He ran off, leaving the two of them together again. Adam took her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

  “I smell peppermint,” she noted as he closed the closet door.

  “I put your candle on.”

  She smiled.

  “Carrie!” she could hear Olivia’s high-pitched squeal and the thuds of her feet on the hardwoods before she could see her. She rounded the corner, nearly skidding on one foot, almost slipping in her socks, and threw her arms around Carrie. “Hi!” Her hair was longer now, pulled back with a ribbon at the end, and she’d gotten a few inches taller as well—taller than David even—her limbs thinning out and looking more lanky.

  “I have missed you,” Carrie said, giving her a squeeze.

  Olivia bounced over to Adam, grabbing his hands. “Daddy, Daddy! Let’s make her some of that hot chocolate we made together yesterday! It was so yummy!”

  Adam looked down at his daughter, affection in his eyes. “Maybe we can.”

  “Will you tell me if you do? I want to go play in the playroom with David.”

  “Of course,” he smiled.

  Olivia pulled him down to her level by his hands and kissed his cheek. Then, she let go and ran down the hallway and disappeared. Carrie was almost breathless at the sight of it. Their fondness for one another was effortless, as if they’d been that way all the time. She remembered that little girl in the blue dress and tights who barely acknowledged her father when he entered the room that first day she’d come to work for them. Now she could see the relationship Olivia had with her father, the ease in which she talked to him, the comfort she had in grabbing his hands. And he’d built trains with David. It almost brought tears to her eyes. Seeing Adam, watching this new version of his life unfold—the Christmas decorations, the way the kids were with him, the absence of stress lines on his face—she was sentimental.

  “How far away is your apartment from here?” he asked, leading her into the kitchen.

  “Only about five minutes.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows, a smile on his face. He looked so happy. Seeing him like that brought all those feelings right back, and she felt a torrent of nervous energy just like she’d had so long ago. She wondered if he felt the same way. Time would only tell.

  “Too full from your coffee to have a beer?” he asked.

  “Never,” she smiled.

  Adam opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle, but as he did, she got a glimpse of the beers that had been stacked in the door. Not a white label in sight; they all had her green holly and berries in the background. “Nice label,” she said as he handed her a beer.

  “Thank you. I had an amazing designer.” He winked at her, and her nerves went crazy. She put the bottle to her lips and drank quickly to squelch the buzz of excitement that was consuming her. He grabbed his own bottle and took a drink before moving closer to her. He was standing right in front of her, invading her personal space, their bodies too close. She looked up at him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, looking down at her.

  “Me too.” She wasn’t at a loss for words this time. She could have said more, but he was already reaching for her beer and taking it from her hands. He set it next to his on the counter.

  “I’ve never asked, but I’ve always wondered what you thought that night after the Marleys’ party when we were outside and I kissed you.” He wa
s looking right at her, his gaze unwavering. It was a very direct question, but it was a logical step from the emails they’d shared. He was testing her, trying to see if she felt for him what he clearly felt for her. And she did have feelings for him. She had completely fallen for him, and she hadn’t found anyone else who could make her feel like he did.

  “I thought it was… perfect.” She remembered that night—the snow, the cold, and the warmth she felt in his arms. She’d wanted to have his arms around her quite a few times when she was away over the last year. She’d missed him terribly, and seeing him now was almost as perfect as that night because she knew that she didn’t have to leave again. It was as if they were picking up right where they’d left off, but it was even better. For a whole year, she’d gotten to know him in writing—he’d made jokes, told her little things about himself, shared his feelings. Getting to know him through email removed the tension that she felt standing opposite him and allowed her to know who he was as a person. Now, armed with all that knowledge, she could give in to his advances easily. She’d fallen for him inside and out.

  He was standing in front of her now, their beers beside them. Slowly, he put his hands on her waist, and in one motion, she felt him pull her toward him as he leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands moved to her back before he embraced her. His kiss was familiar and brand new at the same time, and she knew that this was what it was like to love someone. She could never research how to get this feeling because the definition of it didn’t exist. No one in history had ever experienced the unique chemistry that she and Adam shared together. It was theirs alone. She’d taken a step toward happiness, and she couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

  Epilogue

  “Push me again,” Olivia said, her legs crisscrossed on the porch swing at Adam’s new house. Carrie grabbed the chain to slow it down so that it wouldn’t bump into the whitewashed wooden siding. The house was large like Adam’s last home, but this one oozed character. With double chimneys, working wooden shutters, and a front porch that wrapped around the whole bottom floor, it sat like a diamond solitaire on the grounds that surrounded it. Carrie let her gaze follow the old maple tree in the front yard up to its lowest branch and thought how it would make a great tree for a swing. On the Richmond historical list, the house had been many things throughout history, but today, it belonged to the Fletcher family.

  “Your daddy and David are unpacking alone. Don’t you think we’ve had a long enough break, and aren’t you cold?” Carrie asked. She’d been busy watching the kids—taking them places, helping to clean—all in an effort to get Adam’s house ready for sale. She’d enjoyed spending time with the kids again.

  When the Fletchers’ house sold in three weeks, no one was more surprised than Adam. He’d asked Carrie to go along with him to look at several houses, claiming that she had similar taste to his. When she saw this place, it was like coming home herself. There were things about it that were very formal: the home had a stately fireplace in the living room that took up the entire wall, an interior central staircase so wide that five people could sit across the steps easily, and shiny hardwoods. But there were also things about it that gave it character: It had bubbles in the original glass in each window, a screened-in porch across the back that had a wooden floor made from scrap wood from the first owner’s boat business nearly two hundred years ago, and a yard full of grass. The whole thing had been restored to perfection, and it had taken her breath away.

  Just like Adam: he could still take her breath away. He, too, was formal, strong, quiet with years of experience, but what she loved were the things that made him uniquely him—the curiosity on his face whenever he watched her with his children, the way he leaned forward just slightly when he was interested in conversation, that huff of laughter… Carrie had found many other adorable quirks over the two years that she’d dated Adam. He chose to make Wednesday nights his late nights at work, and even though he only worked late once a week now, he always made sure to apologize and give her a kiss, even though she had told him a million times that it was fine. His thick, wavy hair would stick up in the same spots every morning as if, every single night, he hadn’t changed position. She loved the way he fought it when his eyes would close in exhaustion. If he’d promised to watch a movie with her, and he’d been too tired, he always tried to stay awake, his eyes blinking.

  Olivia hopped off the swing, and Carrie had to grab the chain again to keep it steady. “When’s Aunt Sharon coming?” she asked, hopping with both feet down the three, broad steps onto the ground.

  “She should be here soon. We only have a few more boxes, and we’ll be finished unpacking.”

  Olivia grabbed Carrie’s hand. “I’m glad you get to stay with us,” she said.

  “Me too,” Carrie smiled.

  Adam met them at the side door where he’d been folding empty boxes, David by his side. “Hey,” he said, leaning toward Carrie and stealing a kiss. “David and I are finished unpacking. We wanted to get it all done before everyone came.”

  Adam scooped Olivia up into his arms, gave her a squeeze, and set her back down. Then he led them to the living room. They weren’t there long before there was a knock at the door. It creaked as it opened. Carrie turned to see Joyce, down the hallway, poking her head inside. A gust of cold air seeped in, crawling across the floor and wrapping itself around her legs. She waved at Joyce. Joyce came in followed by Walter and then Bruce. “Sharon and Eric are coming,” Joyce said. “They’re just getting the baby out the car. It’s amazing how many things are required for a three-month old.” When she got to the living room, Joyce put her hand on her chest. “Oh, Adam. Your Christmas tree is beautiful!”

  “Would you have expected any less from Carrie?” he winked in her direction.

  Sharon and Eric came in, Eric awkwardly hauling a baby carrier, his hand red either from the cold or the weight of the thing. He set it down gently onto the hardwoods as Sharon hugged everyone to say hello. After, she tugged on the blanket that had been draped on the carrier to keep out the cold, and underneath was the most perfect, sleeping baby girl. She had a rose-colored dress on, covered mostly by the thick blankets tucked around her, a matching rose-colored woven band on her head with a yarn flower sewn onto the band. She had long eyelashes and pink cheeks, her tiny lips pursed and moving in a sucking motion as she slept. “This is Mia,” Sharon said.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Carrie said, leaning down to get a better look, the powdery smell of balms and baby lotions wafting toward her. This Christmas, they could celebrate their own little miracle right there in the flesh. After another miscarriage, it had been a quite an ordeal to get her here, but now Mia was safe, and happy, and so was her mother. Sharon, who hadn’t stopped smiling since she arrived, took off her coat and draped it on a nearby chair as Eric settled down with Walter and Bruce on the sofa near the fireplace. The flames from the fire licked their way up the chimney, pops and sizzles from the burning embers as festive as holiday music.

  With the fire going in the old fireplace that had warmed generations of families for two hundred years, the Fletchers were starting their own life. The painted stockings were hung, the greenery up, and the presents wrapped, and, once again, the whole family was there. Adam’s cell phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

  “It’s the guy from work,” he said, answering the phone. He walked over to the heavy drapes at the front window. “Yep, you found us. I’ll see you in a sec.” He turned off his phone and opened the door as the truck pulled down the winding drive. “Our beer’s here,” he said, smiling over at Carrie. “Let’s fill up that fridge in the cellar. Carrie, do you mind helping me?” He addressed his family, “We’ll be right back.”

  That was the only call Adam took that night as they all settled in to celebrate Christmas. No longer the children’s nanny, Carrie was more than happy to watch the kids any time they were with their father, which was quite a bit these days. Adam’s agreemen
t with Gwen was to have them every weekend, and they split holidays.

  Carrie went out to get the cases of beer with Adam. Together, they carried the large boxes, bottles clinking inside, to the door leading to the cellar. This cellar definitely wasn’t the cellar that the original homeowner had envisioned. Adam had it remodeled with wooden floors, diamond-shaped cubbies along the walls for wine, and, at the end of it, an entire wall of retail-grade glass refrigerators where he could store his beer. Carrie wobbled the box onto the floor, the bottles tinkling inside with the jolting movement.

  “Do you mind just opening the fridge for me?” he asked. “The middle door.”

  The heat from the hallway had snuck in with them when they’d opened the door at the top of the stairs. With the cold temperatures in the refrigerator, the glass was foggy, giving the bottles a cloudy look to through the door. When she opened the refrigerator door, at first, she was confused. She realized the whole thing was full with beers that had the Christmas label she’d suggested when they’d first met. Trying to make sense of his request, she studied the bottles, looking for an empty spot until her eyes came to rest on the center row. The labels were the same, but they didn’t say Salty Shockoe. There was one word in that curly red writing on each bottle. She started at the left and read: Will. You. Marry. Me? Feeling her pulse shooting around inside her, she spun around to find Adam on one knee, a velvet box in his hand.

  “Caroline Elizabeth Blake, will you marry me?” With shaky fingers, Adam opened the box to reveal a platinum band with a perfect princess-cut diamond in the center. Like a flash before her, thoughts of all the nights he’d chosen her over work, the times they’d spent under her grandmother’s quilt, cuddled up together, reading books—she’d switched to fiction, having long donated her self-help books to charity—how he’d popped popcorn on movie night because the children were asleep upstairs and they couldn’t go out to the theater, the way she could not, no matter how hard she tried, get him to cook a soufflé properly.