by Jenny Hale
“Sarah didn’t want me to work and she wanted children from the minute I met her,” he said. His words were more careful than they usually were. It was clear he was choosing what he said very cautiously. “Do you want to have more children?” he asked, out of the blue.
“Um… Yes. I do. I want lots of kids. But only if I find the right person and we have them together. I don’t want to raise them all by myself. Raising Max is hard enough sometimes.”
Nick nodded, his face full of unsaid thoughts. “I know what you mean about finding the right person. Sarah wasn’t the right person for me, and it’s a lonely, guilty existence when you’re with someone who wants different things. I’m never going to have kids and that’s just the way it is. But she’s moved on, and she has her family now, so she’s happy.”
Abbey had heard the rest of what he’d said, but one particular statement had nearly knocked her backwards even though she’d heard it before: I’m never going to have kids and that’s just the way it is. Even though she knew that she couldn’t change him, she wished that she could.
“Never?” she asked. “You seem very sure that you’re never going to have kids.”
“I am sure.”
“How do you know? You don’t like children?”
“It isn’t that.”
“I know it isn’t. I’ve seen you with Max.” She moved closer to him. “Last year, I got the flu. I was so sick I could hardly move. Max, only five years old, rubbed my back for a whole hour until he fell asleep. I dozed off too, and when I woke up, he’d taken his blanket and left to go to bed for the night, but before he’d left, he’d placed a box of tissues next to me. He was only five, but he’d learned that when people need us, we should take care of them. That’s what we do for people we care about. Who will take care of you when you have the flu? Certainly not your work.”
He didn’t answer but his eyes were unstill as he looked down at the counter. Would he ever understand? They were drinking wine, cooking together, acting like two normal people do when they enjoy each other, but would it ever work between them? Sarah hadn’t changed his mind. Who was Abbey to think she could?
“It’s not as easy as you make it seem,” he said, finally. “My father tried to do both and he failed. I don’t do well with failure. I almost fell prey to that same life, but I managed to escape it. The protectiveness you feel for Max—I’d feel that for my own child, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing that kind of guilt when I had to put in the hours that I do. The only way to make the kind of money I do and have this amount of success is to work at it. Corporations don’t sell themselves. And if I’m not there, someone else is, and sales will get lost. In this market, people don’t work nine to five. They work around the clock. I can’t let my father’s business fail.”
“You are very loyal to your father.”
He nodded.
“What’s your favorite memory of him?”
Nick smiled and took a sip of his wine before answering. “I was probably four or five. We went sailing one evening on Martha’s Vineyard. It was chilly, and we all had to wear jackets, but the sun was so bright. I remember my dad wearing sunglasses. I hadn’t seen him wear them before. He rarely took vacations with us, so this was a treat. We sailed out and anchored in the water. We ate dinner on the Nantucket Sound that night—grilled lamb chops. As the sun went down on the water, its reflection turned the ripples bright orange, and the water looked like it was on fire. I remember, because it got colder after the sun went down, and I thought to myself how it should be warmer with all that orange so close to us. My father wrapped us all up in quilts that he’d bought for my mother in town, and I remember her, all bundled in one, scolding him gently about them getting dirty on the boat. He teased her about letting her children freeze for the sake of the quilts and she relented with a huff. He bought her new ones the next day and we kept the ones we’d used on the boat. We used them every time after that.”
“That’s a beautiful memory,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you worried that you’ll look back on your life and have no more memories like that one? You make all this money and have all this success but you never get to enjoy it.”
“I enjoy the thrill of the success.”
“That’s a rehearsed response.”
“It may be. But it’s my answer. For that one memory, I have a ton of others where my father wasn’t there for me. I’m not putting anyone else in that position.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Let’s just cover this and put what we’ve done so far in the fridge. I can do the rest tomorrow morning,” she said.
“Are you sure? You don’t want to do anymore prep work tonight?”
“No,” she said, feeling even more exhausted, given the way the conversation had turned. There was no sense in discussing it any further. Things weren’t going to change, no matter how much she liked him. “I’m tired. I’d like to turn in.”
* * *
Abbey opened her eyes. White light poured through the windows. She looked over at Max. He was still asleep. She’d climbed into bed with him after cleaning up her prep work in the kitchen last night with Nick. What Nick had said about children bothered her so much, even though she’d known it all along. It had made her toss and turn during the night, and now her eyes burned from lack of sleep.
She got up and walked across the room to the window. To her complete dismay, she took in the view. The storm had hit overnight. Snow was covering the grounds. She couldn’t even see where the drive was—it was nothing but a blanket of white. Her car was gone. She had parked it in the loop outside the front door, but it wasn’t there now. She was hoping to slip out with Max and take him to school, but now she was certain that school would be canceled due to the road conditions—it always was with snowstorms like this. Abbey grabbed her phone to see what time it was, and when she did, she saw Adrienne’s text: The streets are so bad that nobody can get down them. I tried to run to the store this morning, and I had to turn around and go back home. I’m going to cancel the party. I hope you haven’t bought the food yet.
Abbey squeezed her eyes shut, the sting returning. Max didn’t eat pinwheels, so she’d be eating those for the next week, and Nick had made so much sausage last night that they’d have to eat her sausage casserole for dinner every night for the next week. Not to mention, if the streets were that bad, how was she going to get home to pack her things properly when she did find her car? Abbey slipped into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
A call lit up on her screen and she answered it quietly so as not to wake Max. She shut the bathroom door. The painters couldn’t come due to the snow and their next availability was three weeks out. That wouldn’t work. She accepted their apologies—it wasn’t their fault—and tiptoed back into the bedroom to look at her decorating timeline. She shook her head. That room had to be painted. It looked awful in all white and if she didn’t paint it, none of the bedding would work. It would look dreary next to that bright white. She thought about calling more painters, but she knew she’d have trouble finding someone in this weather.
When she was finished getting ready, Max was still sleeping. She’d tried a few more painters while she was in the bathroom, and just as she suspected, they either weren’t able to fit her in or they couldn’t get out to do the job because of the snow. Abbey decided that if she wanted it done, she was going to have to do it herself. It would put her behind, but she had no other options. She’d painted before, and she could do a good job, but her hand wasn’t very steady, and she needed to line all the woodwork with tape to keep her paint lines straight. Abbey dug through her handbag for a scrap piece of paper and a pen. She wrote in her simplest words so Max could read them, I’ll be back. I’m going to find Nick. She put the paper on the nightstand next to Max, and then headed out to find Nick.
On her way downstairs, she ran into Richard.
“Good morning,” she said. “Do you know where I can find Nick?”
> “He’s working.”
“Okay. In his office?”
“He’s asked not to be disturbed.”
“Well, I need my car. Do you know where it is?”
“Ah, yes. We still had your keys so Nick had us pull it into the garage in case the snowstorm hit. Good choice, since it did.”
“How do I get to the garage?”
“Ms. Fuller, I’m so sorry, but there’s no way just yet that we can get your car out. The snow is too high. We have the groundsmen working on it, though. They’ve got the plow up and running.”
She nodded, feeling helpless.
“In the meantime, would you like any breakfast?”
She shook her head.
She knew there was nothing Nick could do about the situation, but she found herself wanting to talk to him anyway. He’d helped her when her car wouldn’t start, and he’d made sure all her food didn’t spoil when she’d lost power. He was good at taking care of her, and she was not only attracted to him, but to his caring nature. She didn’t want to get hurt, but she knew that, inevitably, she would. She decided to leave him to his work.
“I’ll go up and check on Max and we’ll come down to the dining room. Does that sound okay?” she asked Richard.
“I’ll have something ready in about twenty minutes.”
“I need some painter’s tape. Is there any in the house?”
“I’m nearly certain the groundsmen have some. I’ll check for you. Does your son like eggs and bacon?”
“Yes. He likes scrambled eggs.”
“Scrambled eggs it is then.”
“Thank you,” she said. Abbey headed back up the steps and rounded the corner to the room where Max was sleeping. When she peeked in, he was sitting up, looking around.
“Good morning,” she said, walking in.
Max rubbed his eyes, his hair pressed upward in the back.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mmm hmm.” Max was clearly still swimming out of his sleep. He fell back down into the fluffy bedding. “This is the best bed ever,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Abbey smiled and crawled back up under the covers with him.
“I love it here,” Max said.
She knew why he loved it there. It was the most amazing place he’d ever been. It was the most amazing place she’d ever been.
“Are you hungry? They’re making breakfast for us downstairs.”
“Is Nick making breakfast?”
“No,” she said. “He’s working today. Nick has somebody who cooks for him.” Abbey wondered about the elusive cook who’d made her all those wonderful meals. She’d never even met the person before. The staff had all stayed hidden for the most part, and she hadn’t really seen anyone other than Richard since she’d arrived. Was that how Nick wanted them—out of sight?
“Will we get to see him?”
“I don’t think so.” She worried about what Max would do all day if they were stuck there and couldn’t leave. How would she ever entertain him while painting an entire room? She’d have to at least spend some time with him this morning. Perhaps they could play in the snow and then he could help her paint. “How about if, after breakfast, you and I make a snowman—the biggest one we’ve ever made?”
“Yeah!” Max jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to get ready.
* * *
There had been no sign of Nick during their breakfast, and Abbey had felt odd having the staff wait on her when she didn’t live there or pay their salaries. To her relief Richard had come in to tell her they had a ton of painter’s tape. When he had, he very kindly brought her the most perfect carrot and two olives on a plate after she’d mentioned making the snowman. “It’s all I could find,” he’d said with a smile.
“We have to pack the snow really well before we start rolling the snowball,” Abbey said, the snow sliding down into her shoes. She hadn’t come prepared to play in the snow, but Max had worn his boots yesterday, so he had them today, and his feet were nice and toasty. That was all that mattered.
“Like this?” he said, holding a very small ball of snow in his hands.
“Yep. Just like that.” Luckily, it was the perfect kind of snow for snowman making. Abbey had made a ball too, and she placed it on the ground and began to roll it, modeling for Max how to do it. They rolled and rolled, her fingers feeling the chill of the snow through her thin gloves. When they finally stopped, they each had quite a snowball. Together, they rolled one more.
“Now how are we gonna get yours on top of mine?” Max asked, laughing at their creations. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and Abbey couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked.
She tried to pick up her snowball. She could hardly get her arms around it, it was so big. She lifted with all her might. It didn’t move.
“It’s too big,” Max said.
Abbey moved around the other side of the ball to see if she could get more leverage. When she did, she saw one of the windows, its yellow light glowing against the white sky and falling snow. She could make out a shadow, and she knew who it was by the build of the man. Nick was sitting at his desk, his head angled downward; he was typing something. Did he know they were right outside his window?
She put her arms around the ball and tried again. It wouldn’t budge.
“You can do it, Mama!” Max cried. He was clapping and jumping, his navy blue cap sliding down over his eyes. He pushed it back with a mittened hand, snowflakes sticking to the yarn of his hat.
“We should get Nick! He could lift it!”
“He’s working. We probably shouldn’t disturb him.”
“But he hasn’t gotten to play in the snow at all.”
Abbey smiled. “I think he was probably up before us. If he’d wanted to, he most likely would’ve played in the snow already before we were even out here.”
“No he wouldn’t.”
Abbey looked down at him. “Why do you think he wouldn’t?”
“He’d be by himself. It’s hard when you’re by yourself,” Max said. “When I’m at Nana’s, I don’t play in the snow very much because no one is out there to play with me. I’ll bet Nick feels like that. We should tell him we want to play with him.”
Abbey felt a stab of sadness for her son. It was tough being an only child. She wanted to be able to fix it, to give him friends nearby and siblings in the house, but she just couldn’t. She felt sad because she knew that it was Max who wanted someone new to play with. That was why he’d suggested calling Nick.
“Can we text him?”
Despite her reservations, Abbey pulled her phone from her back pocket. What would one morning in the snow hurt? She typed: Max and I are trying to build a snowman, and Max wants you to help build it. Would you like to take a break, by chance? If not, I completely understand. I know you have work to do. But if so, it’s freezing. Dress warm.
Her phone lit up and she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She read, Give me two minutes.
“The snowman’s gonna need buttons,” Max said.
“Maybe we could use rocks.”
Max ran off, the enormous grounds nearly swallowing him right up, and searched for rocks. Abbey watched him bend down, dig under the snow until he found one, inspect it, and then throw it on the ground. He did this a few times until she saw him put one in his pocket. When he had three, he returned. But as he neared her, a giant smile broke out on his face and he walked past her. She turned around.
Nick was standing in the snow, wearing some kind of large hiking boots, jeans, a dark coat, and leather gloves. Dangling from his fingers in his gloved hand was a black top hat. She’d only ever seen one in the movies.
“Where did you get that?” she said with a grin.
Max ran up to him and eyed it as he held it up into view. “It was for a costume party,” Nick said as his icy blue eyes met hers. “I thought Mr. Snowman might get cold without it.” He set it on Max’s head.
“We can’t get t
he snowballs stacked,” Max said, still wearing it over his stocking cap.
Nick looked at the enormous balls of snow. “That’s quite a snowball,” he said.
Max puffed his little chest out in pride.
Nick leaned down and hugged the snowball, bending his knees in anticipation of the weight of it. With relative ease, he lifted it, but it was big enough to block his line of sight so Abbey stepped in.
As he hovered over the other snowball, she said, “Move just a little to the left.”
Nick swayed left.
“No. Too much!”
He moved right.
“Left again. There!”
Nick attempted to set the ball down on top of the other one, but with a small misstep, the snowball teetered precariously, ready to roll back onto the snow and possibly break apart.
“Oh no!” Abbey cried and all three of them put their arms around the ball to keep it from falling. When they finally got it steady, Abbey said, “No one let it go. I’m going to pack snow around the base of it to glue it to the snowball below it.”
Nick and Max held the ball in place and Abbey grabbed a fistful of snow. She packed it against the base of the snowball until it was steady. As she did, she had to duck under Nick’s arms to pack snow on his side. She stole a glance at him, and he was grinning down at her.
“One more to go,” she said.
He lifted the smallest ball and set it on top. They put snow around that one, and Abbey pulled her scarf off and wrapped it around the neck of it. Max added rocks as buttons, still wearing the top hat.
“I can’t reach to do his face,” Max said.
Without even a moment to consider, Nick lifted him up and Abbey had to pull herself together. Max was sitting on Nick’s arm, his little legs dangling down against Nick’s body, as Nick helped him remove his top hat and place it on the snowman. Anyone looking would think the three of them were a perfect little family when things couldn’t be farther from the truth. She caught herself wishing for more time with Nick, and she knew it wasn’t right. What he did with his life was up to him, not her.
