A Christmas for Carrie

by Alison Packard

  “Why?” Paula grabbed a bottle of dishwashing soap and squirted it into the sink.

  Nick moved to the kitchen table and sat down. “It’s a long story.”

  She shot him a cursory glance as she put several utensils and glasses into the sink and then turned off the water. “Which means you don’t want to talk about it.”

  Nick picked up the Santa saltshaker sitting on the table and couldn’t help but smile. Santa’s nose had chipped off and someone—probably his father—had glued it on upside down. “Let’s just say I saw a side to her that wasn’t very attractive.”

  “Nobody’s perfect, son.”

  “I know.” Nick returned Santa to the table. Maybe running the situation by his mom would help—she’d always had a knack for putting things into perspective. “Carrie told me she’s always hated Christmas. So, of course, I thought I could change that. You know, make the holidays special for her. As it turns out, it wasn’t one of my more brilliant ideas. I should have left well enough alone.”

  “She didn’t seem to have a problem with the holidays when she was here.”

  “You’re right. She didn’t. She was fine until we got back to her house after her office party and her mother was sitting on the front porch waiting for her.” Nick scrubbed a hand over his jaw and leaned back in the chair. “When I saw Carrie the next day she was angry, hostile and looking for a fight.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You know I try to mind my own business, but years ago, back when you and Carrie were teenagers, half the town knew about the Joneses’ troubles. She didn’t have it easy like you did.”

  “I get that she had a rough childhood, Mom. But it’s like she won’t let herself be happy.”

  “That’s easy to say when you’re on the outside looking in. Carrie got a shock the other night—one that probably brought back a lot of painful memories. Unfortunately, you bore the brunt of it. Maybe you should go talk to her. I’m a pretty good judge of character—I have a feeling she’s probably regretting what she said to you.”

  “Wait a minute.” Nick lifted his hand. “Weren’t you the one who warned me about getting involved with her?”

  “But you did get involved, didn’t you? You said you cared about her. Has that changed?”

  “No. I even imagined she might be...” He trailed off before he could say the words aloud. The one. He’d thought that maybe Carrie was the woman he’d been searching for. The one he could build a future with. Hell, he’d even been thinking about how they could manage a long-distance relationship. And now he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again. The thought was like a knife in his gut.

  “Nick, can I give you some advice?”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down,” he said and was met with a rueful smile.

  “Honey, if Carrie is important to you then you need to talk to her. And you need to do it before you go back to San Francisco.”

  * * *

  Sitting across from her mother, in a comfortable chair inside Sierra Coffee Café, Carrie wondered if it was more than a coincidence that the same Christmas song she’d heard the last time she stopped by began to play the second she and her mother sat down at the table.

  That day, hearing the song felt like someone had poured salt on the open wound inside her heart. But now, she would always remember it as the song that had been playing the day she’d run into Nick and discovered that the feelings she believed to be long extinguished were merely embers waiting to be reignited. And boy, had they reignited.

  “I’ve missed this place.” Her mother’s coat was draped over the back of her chair, but her long red scarf was still loosely slung around her neck. Despite the fact that they’d talked until almost midnight, Liz looked rested and refreshed. Too bad Carrie couldn’t say the same for herself. She was neither, and it was all because she couldn’t stop thinking about how badly she’d behaved with Nick. “I’ve yet to find coffee this good in Boca Raton.”

  “You should buy some beans and take them back to Florida with you,” Carrie said, finding it a bit surreal that she and her mother were doing something as simple as having coffee together. It felt good...in a weird sort of way. “That way you’re guaranteed a great cup of coffee anytime you want.”

  “That is an inspired idea. I’ll buy some before we leave.” Picking up her cup, Liz leaned back in her chair. “Carrie, I know there’s still so much we need to talk about. And that it’s going to take some time, but I want you to know how happy and grateful I am to have the chance to rebuild our relationship.”

  “Me too.” Carrie wrapped her fingers around her cup to warm them. “And in case I didn’t tell you last night, I’m proud of you for going to AA.”

  “Thank you. It was time, and I was ready.” She peered over her cup. “So, tell me about Nick.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Carrie said with what she hoped was total nonchalance. “He’s just in town for the holidays.”

  “Really?” A devilish look came into Liz’s eyes. “Judging by that make-out session I witnessed the other night, I’d say there’s a lot going on.”

  Mortified, Carrie’s cheeks burned. “You saw that?”

  “Saw and heard. Voices carry.” Liz smiled. “Hey, isn’t that the name of one of those ’80s songs you were always listening to?”

  “Yes.” Carrie reached for a sugar packet and emptied the contents in her cup. As she dipped her spoon into the cup and vigorously stirred her coffee, she hoped the subject wouldn’t head back to Nick.

  “Speaking of music, do you know who Nick reminds me of?”

  Carrie stopped stirring and looked up. “Who?”

  “The lead singer of Maroon 5.” She waggled her brows. “He’s cute.”

  “You know Maroon 5?” Carrie frowned. Come to think of it, Nick did bear a slight resemblance to their lead singer. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that before?

  “Of course, I do. I love music. I always had it on when you were a toddler. I thought you might end up being a singer. You have a beautiful voice.”

  Carrie grinned, vindicated. “That’s what I told Nick, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “Does he know you had a crush on him in high school?”

  “You knew about that?” Carrie asked, feeling her cheeks grow warm again. How many other people had guessed? Thank God, at least Nick had been clueless.

  “I wasn’t always drinking,” Liz said with a sardonic smile. “May I ask if it’s serious between you and Nick?”

  “I—I thought it might be, but then I ruined it. He came by the morning after you were at my house and I was completely awful to him. I think I drove him away for good. But it doesn’t matter, he lives in San Francisco now.”

  “Why should that matter? People have long-distance relationships all the time. And if it got serious you could always move there. Would you consider that?”

  “Mom, that’s not an option. Nick and I aren’t going to end up together.”

  “But if you did, would you consider moving?”

  “I’d miss Grass Valley, but yes, I’d consider it.” Carrie shook her head and laid her spoon on her napkin. “This is crazy talk.”

  Her mother regarded her thoughtfully for several seconds. “Do you care about him?”

  “Yes.” So much so that the possibility of not seeing him again made her heart ache.

  “Then it’s not crazy. I think you should talk to him. It’s obvious you feel badly for whatever it is you said. Why not see him and apologize? We all have bad days.”

  Bad days? Yes. Bat-shit crazy days? No. Not everyone had those.

  “We’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks. I’m sure I’ve scared him off.”

  “You won’t know unless you try. What have you got to lose?”

  “Nothing, I guess.” Carrie shrugged. “I’ll think about it
.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Her mother took another sip of coffee and for several seconds they sat in companionable silence. Carrie couldn’t remember that ever happening. Usually the silences between them were filled with tension. It was a nice change. “I noticed the other night that you have Christmas lights on your house. Considering how you feel about Christmas, I was surprised.”

  Carrie picked up her cup. “Nick put them up. He had this plan to get me to enjoy the holidays. And it was working until you...” She stopped abruptly and averted her gaze. Great. Just when she was trying to take responsibility for her feelings, she’d reverted to form and tried to shift the blame to her mother.

  “Until I showed up?”

  Carrie nodded, surprised to see a wry tilt to her mother’s lips. “Nick told me that I’m choosing to be unhappy and I think he’s right. Every year, just before Halloween, I start dreading the holidays. My whole attitude changes, and not for the better. I don’t want to be like that for the rest of my life.”

  “Then that’s half battle. And you know what? You can replace all those bad memories with new ones...happy ones. You’ve made a start. Build on that.”

  Carrie had no clue how to build on it. Nick had started this plan and now he was out of the picture. Could she enjoy the holidays without him? Or would she let what had happened between them become one more reason to hate Christmas?

  As she sipped her coffee, a midsized car—with a huge Christmas tree tied snugly on the roof—passed by the coffee shop. Leaning forward, Carrie stared at the car until it disappeared from sight and then it hit her. She could make a new memory today...with her mother.

  * * *

  Standing in the middle of her living room, Carrie beheld the sight before her and found it hard to put what she was feeling into words. Twenty-two years ago, the last Christmas tree she and her mother had ever decorated together had been destroyed by her father during one of his drunken rages. From that day until this one, Christmas had been a time of year to be endured. A time when seeing everyone around her embrace the season with their families had made her feel alone and cheated out of a perfect holiday.

  The truth was she had never been alone. Over the years, she’d had friends who—knowing she lived alone—invited her to spend the holidays with them. She always refused, content to wallow in her misery and blame her parents for ruining Christmas forever.

  Now that she knew the truth about her father, it was easy to see that she had been following in his footsteps. The tragedy he’d suffered had shaped his whole life and, sadly, he’d never gotten over it. Seeing her father through a different lens had opened her eyes. It was never about Christmas. It was about loss and abandonment, and a total upheaval of his life.

  Another truth was the holidays weren’t perfect for anyone—every family had issues to deal with. Only she hadn’t wanted to see that. It was easier to imagine everyone else had it better than she did and to feel sorry for herself, rather than to do a little soul searching and admit that she might be the one who needed to change.

  The Christmas tree placed in front of her big picture window was evidence of that change. Instead of driving all the way to McBurney’s, she and her mother had found a tree lot not far from Carrie’s house and, together, had picked out a tree just as they had when Carrie was ten years old. After securing the tree to the roof of Carrie’s car they’d stopped at Target for ornaments and lights and then spent the rest of the day decorating it. Just minutes ago her mother had left to return to the hotel to call Bill before it got too late in Florida. But tomorrow morning she would return, and they would spend their first Christmas Day together in more than six years.

  Carrie’s eyes moistened as she gazed at the beautiful tree adorned with multicolored lights, a hodge-podge of decorations and shiny tinsel. Today she’d made a wonderful memory with her mother. They’d shared hot apple cider, tuned the radio to a station playing holiday music and, for the first time in years, enjoyed each other’s company.

  As tempting as it was to call it a Christmas miracle, Carrie knew differently. The reason for her turnaround was Nick. It had been him calling her out on her negative attitude that had forced her to take a closer look at herself. Talk about eye-opening.

  Whirling around, Carrie rushed to the coat closet to retrieve her parka. She had to thank him. Even though she was sure he believed her to be a lunatic, she had to find him and tell him his plan had succeeded. And there was also the matter of the apology she owed him. Nick couldn’t leave town without knowing how much she regretted her words, and how grateful she was to him. Not to mention that she longed to see him one last time before he walked out of her life for good.

  Before she could pull the jacket from its hanger, the doorbell rang. One neighbor had already stopped by to comment on the tree and the lights on her house. It was probably another one who was shocked that after six years of living on the block, she’d finally gotten into the Christmas spirit.

  Moving to the door, she opened it and her heart began to pound at the sight of Nick standing on her porch. Momentarily stunned, she gaped at him.

  Damn, but the man was hot. Even in faded jeans and a navy-blue fleece pullover.

  “May I come in?” he asked, and as she nodded he brushed past her, teasing her senses with the rich but subtle cologne he wore. After closing the door, Carrie turned to find him watching her with unreadable eyes.

  Why was he here? It was unexpected. Especially after the way she’d talked to him. But whatever the reason, she was happy to see him.

  Nick cast a quick glance at the Douglas fir, then back at her. “You got a tree.”

  She nodded. “My mom and I picked it out at a tree lot. Then we went to Target and bought all the stuff to trim it with.”

  “That must mean you talked to her.”

  “Yes. We had a long talk, mostly about my dad. And what she told me explained a lot. I think I understand him a little better now.”

  “Look, Carrie,” he began, then went silent as she raised her hand.

  “Before you say anything, I need to tell you something,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said. You were right when you said I can either choose to be happy or choose to be miserable. For years I’ve felt sorry for myself for things that happened in my childhood. It occurred to me last night that my behavior hasn’t been that dissimilar from my father’s. Except for the drinking and suicidal tendencies, I’ve been behaving just like him. I’ve let the past rule my life for so long that I didn’t know how to get out of it.” She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling then continued. “Honestly, I don’t think I could have if wasn’t for you.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Nick said with a self-deprecating shrug.

  “Yes, you did. You set out to show me that Christmas could be a wonderful time of year. And you succeeded. I’ve had more fun this year than I’ve had in my whole life. And I owe that to you. So, please, let me thank you.”

  Heat and something that looked like tenderness glowed in his eyes. “I’ll let you.”

  “And I’m sorry I lashed out at you. You didn’t deserve it. When you arrived just now I was getting ready to drive to your parents’ house and apologize. I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving town thinking badly of me.”

  “I don’t think badly of you. I never have,” Nick said. “Back in high school, I was too blind to see how beautiful you were, but I always knew what a good person you were.” His eyes softened. “And still are. The thought that you might live the rest of your life not truly enjoying it to the fullest was hard to swallow. My intentions were good, even if the delivery was harsh.” He paused, then continued softly. “Carrie...please know that I’d never willingly hurt you.”

  Carrie. He didn’t say her first name often, but something about the tenderness in his tone when he said it
just now melted her insides. Did he have feelings for her, or was it just wishful thinking on her part?

  Instead of launching herself into his arms like she wanted to, she kept her cool and gave him a half smile. “I got you a present. I wanted to give it to you before you left.”

  “A present?” Nick’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It’s a little something to remind you of me when you go back to San Francisco.” Carrie stepped around him to retrieve the gift from under the tree. “Here.” She handed him the package; his fingers brushed hers, causing her skin to tingle. “I even wrapped it,” she added, trying to ignore the feelings he evoked in her. He’d be gone soon; there was no future for them.

  Nick grinned. “You really are in the Christmas spirit,” he said as he tore off the small bow before ripping into the Santa-covered gift wrap. “It’s a CD.” He turned it over to read the title. “Totally ’80s?” His gaze lifted to hers; his eyes were filled with befuddled amusement.

  Carrie couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s got all my favorites. Including Kajagoogoo.”

  “Who?” Nick asked, then rolled his eyes. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.”

  “Just pop it in the CD player on the drive back to San Francisco. By the time you get home you’ll have a whole new appreciation for ’80s music.” And there it was. Another reminder that this was the last time she’d see him. Her stomach clenched as she forced a smile. “When do you leave?”

  “A few days after Christmas. I have a commitment I can’t get out of. Adam, my business partner, is hosting a New Year’s Eve party for friends and clients. I have to be there.”

  Carrie swallowed her disappointment. “That sounds fun.”

  “It would be if you were there with me.” A slow sexy smile curved his lips. “How about it? Will you be my date?”

  “Your date?” Her sprits soared with happiness. “Does that mean you forgive me?”