by Jenny Hale
“What?” she asked, her heart thumping.
His phone lit up on the table, and right there on the screen—clear as day—was the name Andy Simpson. Andy Simpson. Andy Simpson. She kept saying the name in her head. Andy Simpson was the name that could pull the rug right out from under her, cut through the happiness she felt like a hot knife through butter. She willed Adam to ignore it, but she knew he wouldn’t. Disappointment at the loss of the moment was eating at her from the inside out. She tried to keep her body neutral, taking a quiet sip from her mug, but she worried that her frustration was showing.
Adam looked at the phone, clearly deliberating. It rang again. “I can call her back,” he said, nodding toward the table where it sat.
“No, it’s fine!” Carrie said, her voice a little too chipper. “Get it. Really.” She was lying. She was telling him to get it, but hoping that he’d refuse. She was wishing with everything she had that he would let the call go to voicemail, because once he spoke to Andy, they could talk for hours. Work colleague or not, she knew that when it came down to it, Andy was more glamorous, wiser about the things in Adam’s world, and more of a friend to him than she was. Given the time they spent together, Andy could possibly be even more than a friend.
Adam reached out and took the phone off the table. “Excuse me just a sec,” he said just before he tapped his phone to accept the call. “Hey,” he answered, setting his mug onto the coffee table and standing up.
Carrie had never heard him say “hey” like that before. It was so casual, so relaxed. That one word made her feel like she was light years away from him. Who had she been kidding? Carrie allowed her gaze to settle on the Christmas tree that she’d decorated with the kids. His kids. They were his family, not hers. Suddenly, her admission to him that she liked being with him came flooding back to her, and she felt the throb of mortification in her temples. Adam enjoyed being with her because she didn’t have the baggage that his family had, he hadn’t let her down like he felt he had his family. She was someone with whom he could make light conversation and fill his time when he wasn’t working—that was all. How hadn’t she seen it before now? Tonight’s supper swelled in her stomach as she realized what a fool she’d made of herself. No wonder he’d laughed at her. Thank God she hadn’t said any more than that. She had to show her face and work in his home. She’d better get herself together.
When she finally swam out of her thoughts, she realized that Adam had left the room, his mug still sitting on the coffee table. It only served to make her assumption more clear. Adam did enjoy making casual conversation with her, but when it came down to it, he’d leave in a second. Andy was the person he wanted to talk to, and she would win his attention every time. As much as it bothered Carrie to think about it, she knew that, really, that’s how it probably should be. From everything she’d seen, someone like Andy would be a catch for Adam. She was poised, polite, confident, pretty. Carrie took in a deep breath and tried to rub the stress from her eyes as she let it out.
“You okay?” she heard, her eyes still shut as she rubbed them. When she looked up, Joyce was standing next to the coffee table.
“Yes. I’m fine, thank you.”
“Where’s Adam? Did he run off on ya?”
Carrie nodded.
Joyce shook her head just slightly and sat down on the sofa beside Carrie. “I don’t know what to do with that boy.” She leaned back, folding her arms. “He hasn’t been the same since Gwen left him.”
Carrie set her mug onto the coffee table. She couldn’t drink any more anyway with the state of her stomach, and Joyce’s comment had piqued her interest, so much so that she didn’t want to do anything else but listen. “How so?” she pressed. She knew it was none of her business, but she wanted to know.
“After Gwen left, he threw himself into his work,” she said. “I’m his mother, so I can feel confident in saying that he’s never failed at anything before. I don’t think he knew what to do when his marriage failed.” The fire cracked, sending red hot sparks up the chimney. Carrie realized she’d been on the edge of her seat, holding her breath, waiting for more explanation from Joyce. “You know what I think?” she wriggled around on the sofa, getting comfortable. Carrie turned in her direction and folded her leg underneath her to face Joyce. “I think that working is his way of being a father because he knows how to be a good provider. I think he’s terrified to actually be with the kids because he may fail again. He’s very sensitive, you know.” Joyce stood up and grabbed Adam’s mug from the coffee table. “Why don’t you come in the kitchen. Sharon’s upstairs. The guys were supposed to come in here, but Walter suckered them into another game. It’d be nice to have another woman in the room.”
Carrie stood up to follow Joyce, grabbing her mug. She was about to take it into the kitchen when she stopped, facing Adam. His gaze immediately went to the empty coffee table and then back up to her face. Joyce took the mug from Carrie. “I’ll take them in,” she said, but Carrie was still looking at Adam.
“I’m sorry I left you.” He looked straight into her eyes, barely blinking. “Again.” His face showed remorse, his eyes gentle, his lips turned down slightly.
She wanted to say “It’s okay,” but she knew that really it wasn’t okay. Why was he having coffee with her? Why did he crawl into the fort after her earlier? Why was he bothering to be so chatty if he could drop it in a second when Andy called? It was messing with her mind, making her feel things for him when really she shouldn’t. She worked for him. That was all. And he was making her care about him. For what? She didn’t know what to say to him because the truth was that the more she learned about him, the more she didn’t want to stay away from him for one second, and she knew that she’d be the one getting hurt in the long run. He had his work, he had Andy, who seemed perfect for him. And he was building a business, and trying to make the best of the life he’d been left with after his family broke up. So, why was he bothering with her at all? It wasn’t fair. What could she say to him now?
“What are you thinking about?” he said, a small line forming between his eyebrows in the most adorable way. She wanted to put her hands on his face and tell him, but she’d never dare, and the fact that she even wanted to made her more aggravated.
She could feel the frustration piling up like the snow on the sidewalk outside: each moment a tiny flake, but added up it was too much to plow through, too much to go away. She’d never before felt anything like what she was feeling now. Her emotions were overwhelming her, suddenly. “If you’re sorry, then change something,” she heard herself say.
This was her boss. What was she doing? She’d never been this direct about anything other than children before. She felt as strongly about this as she did the kids. She wanted Adam to either be present when he said he would or leave her alone. A part of her wanted to close up because she’d been so forward, but there was another part of her that felt liberated, like she’d finally figured out how to live. She didn’t need books or more experiences, she just needed to feel something for someone. She was able to be strong in this part of her life even though it was completely new to her, and that made her feel happier than she’d ever felt.
Adam’s face didn’t change, but his eyes showed his surprise as he processed her direct comment. He recovered, but it took him a minute. Carrie felt the flush to her cheeks, the heaviness from guilt as she looked at his face. She didn’t want to gang up on him, but truthfully, he had to change something. He couldn’t just walk out of rooms whenever he felt like it—even if it was his own house. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She felt so many emotions—sadness, anxiety—but what she didn’t want to admit to herself was that she was also jealous. Jealous of his work, jealous of Andy, anything that pulled him away from her.
She was also irritated because she knew, now, how the children must feel. He’d offered her attention only to wrench it away at the first opportunity. It made her feel like she wasn’t worth his time, she wasn’t as important as Andy. And ma
ybe she wasn’t, but it didn’t stop her feelings from getting hurt. How must the children feel when their father did this to them? Her own father would have never dreamed of putting her second. All these conflicting emotions were making the splotches crawl up her neck.
Adam’s chest rose through his sweater as he took in a steadying breath. He let it out slowly. Was he thinking about what she’d said? It didn’t matter; Carrie had a sinking feeling that nothing would change. So far, he hadn’t given her any sign that he was capable of changing. Inevitably, she’d be the one playing with the kids, buying them presents—from him—and chatting in the evenings with his family. No matter what he’d dealt with, that wasn’t right.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice soft. “And be reasonable. I have to work. What do you want me to do?” he repeated.
She had a million things she wanted him to do, and they were all flying through her head at the same time. She needed to be simple with her request. Just like the children: start small and make tiny changes so as not to make it overwhelming. She needed something that wouldn’t involve the children this time, just in case he let them down. What did she want him to change? His involvement with his family was the number one concern. She scrambled for an answer and then, bang. She had one.
“I want you to go shopping for the kids. Take your mom with you; she’ll help you pick out the right toys,” she said.
“What?” he let out a pent up breath with the word. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that request.
“Go shopping,” she smiled. His face had lightened considerably, and her heart went into overdrive. Even when she was aggravated with him, Carrie couldn’t hide her affection for him. She tried to straighten out her smile, but it kept coming back against her will. It was time she admitted it to herself: she had fallen for Adam Fletcher. She couldn’t rewind things, turn back the clock. She’d gotten too far into this, too close.
He looked at her, the corners of his mouth turned up in that lovable way, and she wondered if he felt anything at all in that moment. When he was with her and nothing else was pulling on his attention, she felt like she was the only person in his world. He made her feel so assured, so happy. She felt like she could tell him anything.
“Tomorrow, I want you to ask your mother to go,” she said. “It’s your first day off, and we only have four days until Christmas. You have no work and the kids have no presents.” She felt the confidence soaring through her. She could get her thoughts out just fine, and she told him exactly what she wanted him to do. It made her feel strong. The way he was looking at her gave her hope that maybe he was taking in this moment as much as she was. Did he feel what she was feeling?
“I’ll ask her to go tomorrow morning.”
“You will?” she said, unable to conceal her smile. She wanted to put her hands on his face and kiss him. That was the first time she’d allowed herself to think about kissing Adam. It would be so natural to put her arms around his neck, push herself up on her toes, and press her lips to his.
“Yes,” he said, smiling down at her. Did she see affection in his eyes?
“Thank you,” she said, using all her self-control to keep her feet planted where they were and her arms by her sides.
“You’re welcome.” His eyes moved around her face. She wanted to know his thoughts. She wanted to hear his voice as he told them to her. “We have to go in the morning, though, because we have the kids’ Christmas play tomorrow night.”
He’d remembered. And he’d said “we” which meant he planned to go! The thrill of having him there swelled within her. “Yes,” she said. “The morning would be great.”
Chapter Eighteen
To ease anxiety, it is sometimes helpful to find healthy distractions. Carrie smiled to herself as she thought about how fitting that line was now. Originally, she’d worried about having Adam as a distraction, but today, she celebrated it. The engine of Adam’s silver Five Series BMW barely made a sound as he opened the car door to let her in. When Carrie sat down on the passenger seat, she could feel the warmth from the heater that he’d had running for the last ten minutes as they’d gotten ready to leave. When Adam had asked Joyce to go shopping, she’d suggested that Carrie go instead since she was probably up on all the latest in children’s toys. They’d tried to convince Joyce further, but she’d flat refused, saying she hadn’t bought toys in decades, and she’d rather spend time with the children. Joyce and the children were at the front door, Olivia waving with one hand, her baby doll in the other. David stood behind them, peeking around his grandmother and waving goodbye intermittently. They backed inside and shut the door just as Carrie shut herself into the car.
The seats were black leather, soft to the touch, and perfectly clean—not a speck of dust. Her shoes dropped snow on the floor mats, and she worried that it would make a spot when it melted. She let her eyes roam around the sleek dashboard, thinking about how different this car was to hers. She felt frumpy in it. Adam got in and latched his seatbelt. Unlike her, he fit perfectly in the car’s interior. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his shiny Rolex peeking out from under his coat, reminding her of the time that was ticking away, the tiny number of hours she had before she’d have to leave.
As he drove through the neighborhood streets, she thought again how she didn’t feel like she belonged in a car like this, and she wondered if Andy had ever been in her seat. She was willing to bet that Ms. Simpson would look a lot more comfortable in it than she did. Carrie didn’t need fancy cars and big houses to be happy. She looked over at Adam. His hand was on the stick shift between them, resting there. She wondered if he felt like he needed all this to be happy. Would he be just as happy in her little car with her? Why had he surrounded himself with so many pricey things when he barely noticed any of them? He never gave himself time to enjoy them. He shifted as they merged onto the highway, and she watched his hand move. Even his hands were familiar to her now, the curve of his knuckles, the movement of his fingers. She wondered what it felt like to feel his touch on her face.
“I thought we’d go to the mall. Would that be okay?” he said, breaking the silence.
“That’s fine.” She didn’t care where they went. She enjoyed being with him, and what she wanted was for Adam to choose the gifts that he was planning to give his children. She’d help give him ideas of what they’d like, but the children needed to know that they were actually from him.
When they finally arrived, Carrie was more than surprised by what she saw. She walked through the entrance into the massive expanse of outdoor shops surrounding her. In the center of it all was a Christmas tree that was as tall as the mall itself, its lights twinkling like stars against the gray sky. The shops were two stories, the iron railings on the second floor draped with swags of evergreen. Christmas music poured through the loud speakers as the whistle from a children’s train blew when it passed by them. She pulled the collar of her coat together to keep out the cold, but the sight in front of her kept her warm.
“It’s cold,” Adam said, lightly placing his hand on her back, making it hard for her to breathe. She looked over at him and smiled, the thrill of being with him settling in her chest. “Where would you like to go first?” he asked.
There were chocolate shops, perfume shops, clothing stores, anything and everything, their store signs bright against the dull sky. Each one had wreaths in windows, snow piled in corners, people bustling in and out with their holiday bags swinging from their arms. There was too much to take in, too many choices. Then, down the cobbled walk, she saw the glow of primary colors in the shop window—the toy store. “Let’s start there,” she pointed.
“Okay,” he said, as he smiled down at her.
His whole body seemed less tense than she’d seen it before, and his face was content when he looked at her. He was in the moment. The excitement of the season, the ambiance of the shops, and being with him made her feel like she was creating a memory that she wouldn’t soon forget. She was happier
than she could remember being in a very long time. She felt like a whole person again, and all the things she’d read in her books seemed useless now—she didn’t need any of them because they didn’t understand what it was like to live. The words in her books were nothing more than a string of advice with no mention of what it was to feel real happiness. She remembered her book that said that familiar situations put people at ease. This wasn’t familiar at all, yet she was more at ease than she’d ever been.
Adam opened the door to the toy shop and allowed her to enter first. “Shall we shop for Olivia since I see all that pink over there?”
She nodded. He was right. Olivia would definitely love that section of the store. There were fairy costumes, pink unicorn stuffed animals, purple strollers with silver, sparkle wheels. It was perfect. Carrie picked up a fat white and black stuffed kitty cat doll with a pink rhinestone collar and stroked its fur.
“What do you think?” she asked, cradling it like a baby. “It could be her new pet.” Adam shook his head, smiling, and she set it back down. “Or these?” She took a gigantic pair of pink heart glasses from the shelf and put them on. “She may like them.” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Then, it caught her eye on the shelf above, glistening in the light of the shop. Carrie put the glasses back and pulled a diamond crown the size of Miss America’s from the shelf and placed it on her head. The faux metal and stones were light, but the crown itself was substantial, causing her hair to fall into her face as she pressed it down onto her head.
Adam raised his hand, and for an instant, she thought he was going to push her hair behind her ear, but he pulled his hand back as quickly as he’d raised it and smiled instead. It was only half of a gesture—barely enough for her to even know its intent—but enough to make her hands tingle with nervousness. He was smiling at her, but his eyes were appraising, as if he were seeing her in a new light. She could see the happiness in his face even though he was working to keep his features neutral. It all made her heart pound in her chest. She took the crown off and ran her fingers through her hair.