by Jenny Hale
Eric didn’t seem to mind her question. “This sort of thing is always tough for her because she wants kids so badly.” He was quiet for a moment before he added, “And her depression worsens things. It only came on when she lost the baby. It’s been hard for both of us.”
Carrie struggled for a positive spin on this one. She remembered enough from one of her books to know that Sharon exhibited nearly all the characteristics of depression, but in this case, there was nothing to make it better, nothing to say. It just was. Once again, her book had no answers. Sharon wanted a child, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t have one. For some reason, it wasn’t meant for her. And everything she experienced from here on out was shadowed by that fact. How would she ever enjoy herself tonight while she watched her niece and nephew? Surely she would only think about the fact that she may never see her own children in a Christmas play.
Carrie had helped Adam pick out a present for her, and they’d settled on a blanket. It was white like the snow outside and so soft that she wanted to curl up with it right there in the store. It was big enough that Sharon could use it but soft enough that it would be perfect for wrapping a baby. Carrie hoped it would keep her warm on those cold nights, the nights she needed a little extra comfort.
“I’ll just go check on her,” he said.
Eric was generally quiet, not one to lead a conversation, but there was something about him that was so strong. Maybe it was the way he took care of his wife, the way he kept it all together when she couldn’t, or the gentle manner in which he dealt with the situation. He was always there supporting her, helping her, making her feel better. It had to be hard work, yet it never showed on his face. Whenever she saw him, he was pleasant, smiling, helpful. Carrie hoped that Sharon realized how much of a family she had right now. Eric was lovely to her.
She looked up at the top of the staircase, and Adam was standing there looking down, smiling. “Hey,” he said, and she felt like she was going to fall over. He hadn’t ever said “hey” to her like that before. It was the same “hey” he’d used on the phone with Andy. It was an informal, friendly, relaxed “hey.” He was so handsome standing there that she was having trouble getting anything to come out of her mouth.
“Hey,” she said back, the word rolling off her tongue like she said it to him all the time.
He started down the stairs, not breaking eye contact. “You look nice,” he said when he got to the bottom.
It was the first time she’d had a chance to get a little dressed up, and she had on her favorite sweater and skirt. She was wearing jewelry, which felt a little weird since she didn’t wear it much, and she’d spent time on her makeup tonight. It had taken a little extra time, but she’d curled her hair and styled it as well. She wanted to look nice for the play, but there was also a part of her that wanted to look nice for Adam. It was silly, really, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to look pretty for him, so his compliment made her cheeks feel warm.
Joyce came around the corner, holding Olivia’s hand, Bruce following along with David. Behind them all was Walter, hobbling in on a cane. Walter moved around the group until he was facing Carrie and Adam. “You two look fantastic tonight,” he said, winking at Carrie. She felt the flush to her cheeks again and prayed that the splotches wouldn’t come. Sharon and Eric emerged at the top of the stairs. “Are we all ready to go?” Walter asked. The group murmured in agreement as Bruce opened the front door, letting in a blast of icy air. They all went outside, leaving Carrie and Adam in the foyer with the kids.
Adam cleared his throat. “I’ll see you there,” he said, the sound of the car engine purring in the background outside.
She wished it could be her riding with him, but his car was already full. “See you there,” she returned. He grabbed the knob of the door, holding it open for her. As she and the children walked onto the stoop, they shared one more smile, and he closed the door.
Chapter Twenty
Appreciate yourself for the person you are. That was very difficult to do when faced with this situation. One of Carrie’s jobs was to be sure that David and Olivia got to the play. And now, having dropped the kids off with their teacher in the classroom behind the sanctuary of the church, she found herself getting anxious about seeing Adam and, as he’d mentioned at lunch, one of his work colleagues. The bulky, velvet curtain was still pulled closed on the stage as she got situated in an empty seat in a row with enough chairs for Adam’s family, the room around her nearly pitch black because her eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. Walter took a while to get in and out of the car, but she hoped for him to be with her soon. His jovial nature would ease her nerves.
She blinked to try and correct her vision, apprehension creeping in even more, as she eyed the empty seats beside her. She was having trouble getting comfortable in her chair. She shifted her weight, crossing her legs. In mere minutes, those seats would be filled by Adam’s family, Adam, and a man named Robert and his wife. She’d worried herself silly with thoughts of meeting this person. She discreetly turned and glanced at the door behind her. It was still closed. A woman with a floral dress and cardigan walked onto the stage, her heels clicking over the muffled chatter of the crowd. She began speaking into the microphone just as a beam of light crawled along the aisle floor beside her.
Carrie turned to look, and she saw the silhouette of a cane and a man leaning on it—Walter. She wanted to sit by Walter tonight. He would make her feel good about herself despite the intimidating person she was about to meet. She didn’t want to be caught after the play in a conversation about the brewery, having to smile and nod even though she had no idea what they were talking about. She didn’t want to be the one who didn’t get the office joke, the one who didn’t know the latest on the expansion or the figures for the new building Adam was buying.
She focused on the faces of Walter, Joyce, and the others she knew as they walked toward her, but once they’d said their hellos and taken their seats, she saw the two people with Adam. They looked quite refined like him, well dressed—the woman was clearly pregnant, and Carrie immediately worried for Sharon. She glanced over at her face, but she seemed okay, so she looked back at the couple. The woman walked ahead of them. Her maternity dress showing beneath her open coat looked expensive, but it was slightly more casual. She’d dressed it up with a nice necklace. Adam was talking to the other man who was very handsome, with dark hair and chiseled features. That must be Robert, she thought. Adam’s family had crawled over Carrie and filled the seats to her left, leaving the seats to her right open. She was thankful, however, that Walter had ended up beside her.
When they got close enough, Adam made eye contact and smiled, putting his hand in the air to say hello. He eased into the row and sat down next to her. The chairs were so close that Carrie had to fold her arms so as not to take too much of his personal space. They were so close that if he’d put his arm around her, she could lean into the emptiness between his arm and body and be quite comfortable—but there was no way that was going to happen. Carrie leaned toward Walter. The only person who probably had less room was the poor lady who was expecting. She’d been wedged between Adam and her husband.
On stage, the woman with the cardigan finished talking about next Sunday’s potluck dinner, dismantled the microphone, setting it just off stage, and walked down the three steps to take a seat in the front row. Then, the curtain opened, illuminating the audience with light. Olivia was standing on a bale of hay, holding a star in one hand and itching her halo with the other. David was leaning on the manger until his teacher motioned with a smile from the edge of the stage for him to stand up straight. There were other children on the stage, but Carrie hadn’t noticed any of them because she was too busy taking in the sight of the Fletcher children.
She’d already become so attached. She hadn’t just fallen for Adam; she’d fallen for his children as well. Olivia’s feet were tapping in place, and Carrie smiled, knowing that she wanted to spin circles or dance—she needed movemen
t. And David was so clearly anxious about his part, he had hardly moved other than to take his hand off the manger.
The children began to sing “Away in a Manger,” one of them singing too loudly, but Olivia, who had been fidgety the whole time, became still and focused as she sang. Carrie hadn’t known that about her, and she thought how she should incorporate more music into her day. David was singing, but his lips were barely moving, his eyes on the floor. Immediately, her mind went into plan mode of what she would do for David while Olivia was given more time with music. Then it hit her: she wouldn’t be with them much longer, yet she was mentally planning as if she were their full-time nanny. David took the hand of a little girl who was dressed like Mary, and walked with her to the center of the stage to greet The Wise Men, and Carrie had to blink to keep the tears at bay. She would miss this family so much.
“A king is born!” Olivia said while itching her head again, the halo moving to the side of her head. Walter chuckled beside her, and Carrie smiled too through her blurring eyes. Refocusing on Olivia and David as they told the story gave her calm, and as she watched them sing, she tried to forget about leaving. She loved watching the children. David struggled with his lines a bit, his nerves clearly getting the better of him, while Olivia was a complete ham most of the time. Carrie wished she could be their full-time nanny, but even if she could, they’d be going to kindergarten next year, and they wouldn’t need her anymore.
Her time with the Fletchers would soon be coming to an end. Then, all the wonderful people around her in whom she’d become so invested would be gone, and she’d have no reason to return. She could feel the heaviness of the loss before it had even happened, making her worry about what it would feel like that last day. Had she made a difference at all? Would Adam go back to work and forget about the times he’d had with his kids? Would he see Andy every day and never think about Carrie again? She focused on the kids for the rest of the show.
At the end, the lights came on, revealing the large, airy sanctuary. It wasn’t the traditional layout of a sanctuary with pews—instead, it had chairs—but the atmosphere was very traditional nonetheless, with a huge wooden cross at the front and candles and greenery in the stained-glass windows along the sides of the room. Adam turned to Carrie. “That was fantastic,” he said, smiling. She nodded. He stood up along with the crowd and she followed suit. The other couple congregated with Adam in the aisle while those from the surrounding rows filtered around them easily, Walter working to get through the chairs and Joyce right behind him pushing them all back just a little for him.
This is it, Carrie thought as Adam placed his hand lightly on her arm and led her to the couple from his work as the others came up behind to join them. “I’d like to introduce my nanny and friend, Carrie Blake.” They nodded politely. “This,” Adam nodded to the man with the dark hair, “is Robert Marley, my good friend and the man who is helping me greatly with acquiring property for the expansion.” Robert held out his hand in greeting. He had a firm, businesslike handshake, but there was something quite friendly about him as well. “This is Robert’s wife, Allie. Their daughter, Carolyn, was the angel standing next to Olivia.”
It all made sense now. She’d seen Allie leaning forward when Carolyn had said her lines. The look on Allie’s face, she’d noticed, was an outward expression of the way Carrie felt looking at the Fletcher children. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said to Allie.
“Likewise.” Allie offered a warm, genuine smile. Carrie didn’t feel nervous at all around Allie. She seemed very nice. “I was a nanny for years!”
“Really?”
“Yes. I run a preschool now.”
Carrie couldn’t help but be excited to find someone else who knew what her life was like. “That’s fantastic,” she said. And it really was. Allie had a likeable demeanor. Carrie could almost picture her cross-legged on the floor, making funny voices while she read stories to the children. Just having someone there who understood her made all her nerves go away.
“Have you been with the Fletchers long?” she asked. Carrie shook her head, fear of leaving them flooding her again. “I’d love to share nanny stories! You should come to our Christmas party!” Allie looked over at Adam. Carrie looked at him too. This was the first she’d heard of a Christmas party. Had he planned on going? “Bring her along, Adam. I’ll finally get some good conversation!” she kidded.
Adam made eye contact with Carrie, uncertainty written on his face. Did he not want her to go? Was he worried she wouldn’t fit in?
“It’s a Marley tradition. I remember going to my first Christmas party at Ashford. It was not something I’ll ever forget. It’s so much fun! She’d love it,” Allie said to Adam.
“I’d be happy to take you,” Adam said, looking at Carrie, a small grin on his lips.
Was he really happy to take her, or did he feel obligated? Carrie couldn’t tell as she searched his face for the answer.
“Oh, that’s fantastic! I can’t wait to see you two!”
One of the Sunday school teachers came up behind them, carrying Carolyn, with David and Olivia on either side of her. “Hello,” she said, handing Carolyn to Robert. Carolyn’s white dress fluffed out over Robert’s arms, completely hiding them as he held her. “I think these kiddos belong to you all,” she smiled.
Carolyn couldn’t have been more than three. She had dark hair like her father and a smile like her mother. “Hi, Daddy,” she said, putting her hands on Robert’s cheeks and pressing her forehead to his. He smiled and kissed her cheek. Carolyn rested her head on his shoulder, her sleepy eyes on Carrie.
Carrie couldn’t help but wish that Adam could be like that with his children. He will, she thought. In time. If only time were on her side. She had so much she wanted to do with Adam and his children. Not to mention, she wanted more time with Adam himself.
They were finally all back at home and settled after the Christmas play. “I’m heating a ham in the oven, y’all,” Joyce said, coming up behind Carrie in the hallway and putting her arm around her shoulders to offer a little squeeze. It made Carrie smile. She enjoyed Joyce so much. The other men had already headed into the kitchen, leaving only Adam and his mother still standing in the hallway. Sharon was on the bottom step. Olivia joined hands with Joyce and Carrie, trying to swing between them and pulling them toward each other. David was standing next to them.
“I’d like to put the kids to bed tonight, if that’s okay,” Joyce said. “I never have a chance to do that, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to read bedtime stories. I miss it.”
Adam nodded.
“I think I might have a rest,” Sharon said, starting up the staircase. Carrie noticed Joyce’s concern, the way her face dropped from her cheery expression to one of worry. The children had been fantastic tonight, and Carrie could only speculate how hard it must have been for Sharon to have to watch it, given her circumstances.
“Are you okay?” she asked Sharon.
“I’m fine.”
Carrie could tell that it was the kind of “fine” that meant, I’m the same as I’ve been and nothing can help, but she wanted somehow to ease whatever it was that Sharon was feeling. It was futile, she knew that. There was nothing Carrie could say or do to help Sharon, but it bothered her to see her like that. Maybe she could just be there for her. She tried to offer Sharon a consoling smile. Sharon headed upstairs, and Carrie decided that she’d pop in and check on her once she went up herself.
Adam squatted down in front of the children. “I really enjoyed watching you two tonight. David, you did a great job.” David’s chest puffed out in pride. “And Olivia, your singing was beautiful.” Carrie couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Adam was smiling, his voice soft, his eyes curious as he looked at his children. It had been unprompted, nothing coached.
Olivia put her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said.
He smiled again at her, his face so tender, so sweet. When Olivia let go, he turned to Da
vid, picked him up, and set him on his knee. “How did you learn all those lines?” he asked. “Did you practice with your mom?”
“A little. I practiced with my teacher.”
“Well, you were awesome.”
David’s smile took over his whole face, the dimple on his cheek emerging, and he hugged his dad. When he did, she saw Adam close his eyes, taking it in. Carrie felt as though her heart would burst. In this moment, Adam was feeling what it was like to be a father. He’d initiated it himself, and the kids responded to his love and attention. It was the best thing she’d seen in a long time because, right there in front of her, she saw two children meeting their father for the first time.
He stood up. “I suppose I should let you take them up to bed,” he said to Joyce.
Joyce smiled with pride at her son and took the two children by their hands. “Tell your daddy goodnight,” she said, her voice a little broken from emotion. The kids both said goodnight as they walked upstairs.
Then it was just Carrie and Adam left in the hallway. Looking at him right then, she wanted to grab his hands, hold them, kiss his lips. When he let his soft side show, like he had just now with the children, he was so attractive to her that she could hardly keep herself in check. With that tiny gesture—just talking to his children like he had—he’d filled her with hope.
There was a loaded silence between them. Could he sense what she was thinking? Finally, he said, “Want to go into the kitchen with everyone? I think I hear Gramps at the table. He probably has a game going.” He smiled, his expression still gentle like it had been with the children. She didn’t want to leave him, but she wanted to check on Sharon. Sharon was always apart from them, always isolated. After hearing about her depression, Carrie worried about her.