A Christmas to Remember

by Jenny Hale

  Olivia ripped the paper off the front, David pulling at one end. When they finally got all the paper off, the box—empty of any wording—didn’t offer any more information about what was inside. David lifted the lid and pushed it back, and Olivia pulled the tissue paper. When she did, she let out the loudest cry of joy that Carrie had ever heard her make. She leaned over Olivia to see what it was. Nestled in the tissue were three pairs of ice skates: one large pair and two smaller pairs. There was also an envelope. Adam pulled it from the box and slipped his finger under the flap. “The ice skates are for you, me, and David,” Adam said to Olivia. “But do you know what this is?” He waved the envelope. Carrie could hardly stand it. She wanted to know what it was. Just looking at Adam’s face, she could tell it was something great. The kids were watching him, waiting just like she was. “In this envelope, I have tickets to Snow White on Ice at the Richmond Coliseum.”

  “We get to see Snow White?” Olivia said, her eyes round with excitement. She had pulled her skates from the box, and she was hugging them.

  “Yes,” he said. “And you know what else? A man I work with knows her, and, after the show, he’s going to let us skate with her.”

  Olivia’s mouth hung open with that news. She threw her arms around her daddy and buried her head in his neck. “Thank you!” she said in a muffled voice.

  “Will you skate with me, Daddy?” David asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  Unexpectedly, Carrie’s eyes filled with tears. No one had told him anything. She hadn’t pressed him to do it; she’d barely even mentioned it. He’d just remembered. He’d made it happen. And it was better than she could have dreamed. He gave Olivia and David exactly what they wanted for Christmas. She blinked away her tears. Eventually, they subsided, but her heart was so full it was about to burst.

  Once everyone had opened their gifts, Adam pulled one more small gift bag from under the tree. “This one’s for Carrie,” he said, handing it to her.

  Surprised, she got down on the floor next to Adam. She took the gift and read the tag: To Carrie, Love, The Fletcher Family. She felt around inside until her fingers caught something thin and metal. She pulled it out. It was a beautiful bookmark, shiny, with beads on one end. “Thank you,” she said to everyone collectively.

  “There’s more,” Adam said, nodding toward the bag.

  Carrie reached in and found something else. She pulled out a gift card to the bookstore. Her face registered shock, she was certain, but she couldn’t help it. It was a gift card for one hundred dollars’ worth of books.

  “I know you like to read,” Adam said. “I saw your car was full of books when you first arrived and we got your suitcases out. Perhaps you can find a few you haven’t read.”

  Carrie thought about the books she had—all those self-help books. In the past, she’d have spent the whole hundred dollars on those books, but now, she thought how she might buy a novel, or something on travel, perhaps. There were so many more options that interested her. “Thank you so much,” she said. She couldn’t help it; she put her arms around Adam and hugged him. It had been innocent enough, but, unexpectedly the scent of him so close hit her, and then he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her. The hug was quick but just long enough to make it hard for her to breathe. He pulled away slowly, their faces coming inches from each other, and then, he smiled. It was meant just for her. Even though his entire family was right there in the room and his kids were making noise beside them, it felt like it was just the two of them. She wanted him to know how much she cared for him, how much she couldn’t stand to be away from him, but she didn’t know the right time or place to tell him. She didn’t even have a present for him.

  “I didn’t get you anything,” she worried aloud as David crawled onto his daddy’s lap and sat between them. Olivia scooted closer, her crown still on her head but tilted sideways.

  “Yes, you did,” he said, looking down at his children. “Yes, you did.”

  It was clear that the rest of the family understood the moment that Adam was having with his children because there was a hush in the air, the only sound was the quiet radio in the background playing “Let it Snow.” Carrie hadn’t even noticed it was playing until that moment. She remembered thinking how all their struggles were like those snowflakes, and piled up, they were too much to move. She may still feel that way at times, but what she didn’t realize until right now was that just like those snowflakes, it takes all the bumps along the road to really show off the beauty of the end product.

  Watching Adam as he talked quietly with his children, their hands on his arm, their faces so close to his, she saw that beauty. Whenever she’d been able to help children overcome their issues, she’d always felt pride, but today, she felt different emotions. She felt a slight relief, but she also worried. This was more than something to correct; this had been heavy on her heart, and seeing him with his children, watching the way they reacted to him, she hoped she’d had enough time to make it stick. She was hopeful that she had.

  “Why don’t we see what Santa has brought you two,” Joyce said. “I’ll make us some more coffee and some cinnamon rolls for anyone who didn’t get enough to eat.”

  “What did Santa bring?” Olivia said, bouncing over to Joyce and grabbing her hands.

  “Let me get my camera, and we’ll show you.”

  “Where is it?” Olivia asked. She used Joyce’s hands as if Joyce were leading her in a dance, pulling her out and in. Olivia let one hand go and did a spin.

  The kids were ecstatic when they saw the jungle gym in the playroom. Carrie was especially pleased when Olivia grabbed Sharon and took her over to the playhouse area, explaining all the things she could do with her dolls. She knew what it meant to Sharon to have the children seek her out. She worried for Adam’s sister because she, herself, understood what she was missing. David nervously climbed the ladder to the slide but laughed as he slid down it. The play set was bright, oversized, and it didn’t fit in the slightest with the décor, but it was a perfect addition to the playroom.

  She was struck again by how so much had changed since she’d arrived. The playroom certainly looked different. Now, it was a place for exploration, for fun, for laughter. Adam was leaning on the side of the slide, talking to David, smiling at his son as he slid down the slide. Olivia and Sharon were giggling about something—she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter, they were happy. But the playroom was only the start. Adam had made time for his family, and they were all together on Christmas.

  She’d hoped for all of that, but something else had changed as well. Something she hadn’t planned on at all. She’d seen a change in herself. She wasn’t unsure of herself personally anymore. She felt confident making her own decisions without looking for the answers in one of her books. She wasn’t intimidated by success. She knew what she wanted in life, she knew that she was strong enough to get it, and she felt like she could stand on her own two feet. Suddenly, right there in that moment, she realized that she had a lot of her own living to do, and the sky was the limit. Seeing this family figure out their roles with each other made her want to figure herself out. She needed time to decide what she really wanted to do with her life.

  It was late. The children had been put to bed and the whole family was asleep. Adam was in the kitchen, looking out the window. The skies had cleared, and a giant moon in the sky cast a white light on the snow outside. It made the cream color of his sweater look almost yellow against its bright white. She noticed that the peppermint candle she’d bought when she’d first arrived was burning on the island, and she didn’t remember anyone lighting it. Had Adam done it? When she got closer, he turned around.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  “Do you like that candle?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I know you like it.” When he said that, their unspoken language was all over his face, and she felt the prickle of excitement on her skin. He walked around the table to meet her. “I was wonderin
g,” he looked down at her, “what you had planned for after New Year’s.”

  “I haven’t ironed out my plans yet,” she said.

  He cleared his throat. “How about a drink?” he said abruptly. “We should have a beer.” She nodded, but he’d already started getting the bottles out of the fridge.

  She suddenly wanted a drink, herself. Was she supposed to be the nanny or the woman he’d taken to the Ashford Christmas party?

  “Glass?” he asked. She nodded, and he pulled a pint glass from a cabinet.

  As he poured the amber liquid into the glass, tilting it in his way to minimize the foam at the top, she just came right out with it.

  “I saw today how happy you made your family. Sharon even seems pleased.” He smiled, and she wished she could just be quiet and take in this moment, hold it close, and never let it go. But she had to know. “With your family all here to help out, will you need me any longer?” she asked.

  He took a step closer to her and handed her the glass. “I was going to talk to you about that.” He set the beer down without drinking it, so she did the same. Perhaps he’d just needed to busy his hands for a while because now he seemed to have calmed himself a little more. “I think my mom wants to watch the kids until Gwen returns. I’d be happy to pay you the amount we’d discussed at the outset so as not to set you back any pay…”

  “Okay,” she said, ignoring his comment about the pay. She could feel the rush of sadness at the thought of leaving them all, but there really was no need for her to stay. She understood that. This family didn’t need her anymore. And suddenly, while she was terribly sad, she knew it was time to get working on herself.

  He took a drink of his beer. “But I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime.”

  She sat there silently for a moment, contemplating his offer. She felt a pinch in her chest, and she knew why. Her thoughts on the matter were bittersweet. She could hardly believe what she was thinking. She had true feelings for Adam; she couldn’t deny them. She wanted to spend every minute with him. She wanted to wake up next to him in the morning, have him be the last person she saw before closing her eyes at night.

  But.

  She took in a breath as the thoughts entered her mind. Adam had just carved out time for his children. What kind of person would she be if she filled those hours selfishly? He needed time to grow with his kids, to get to know them, to learn how to care for them.

  If she stayed in Virginia, she’d find herself waiting, constantly waiting. Waiting for Adam to find time for her, waiting for more than what he was able to offer her, waiting for the chance to begin her own life. She was tired of waiting for her happiness. She needed to move on, get up and make something of herself.

  All these thoughts came crashing in on her, and she could tell by his face that he saw them in her expression. He’d asked her to go out with him. She’d wanted to hear that almost the entire time she’d known him. The sadness that swelled in her stomach at her answer was almost unbearable. She knew what she wanted in her heart, but she had to go against it in this instance. It just didn’t make sense any other way.

  “I see,” he said, his eyes dropping down from her face in thought. She hadn’t had to say a thing; he’d just been able to read her. Her chest felt tight at the admission as she shook her head, telling him no—the answer he’d already guessed. All she could hope for in life was someone as wonderful as Adam, who could read her without a single word spoken like he could. In a different time, a different place, they’d be perfect for each other.

  “You need to spend time with your family, and I have things pulling me back home,” she said. She swallowed to alleviate the pressure from the lump in her throat. “I’ll spend the day with the kids tomorrow,” she said, suddenly worrying about them. She couldn’t just up and leave without saying goodbye and having some sort of transition. She wasn’t sure how she’d get through the day without crying, but she had to. For the children. It was always for the children.

  “Will you come and see me?” Olivia asked as Carrie tried to fold her evening gown and pack it into her suitcase. That was a tough question without an easy answer. The truth was, she lived a state away, and she probably wouldn’t ever see this little girl with her curly hair and unstill feet again.

  Carrie felt the prick of tears and cleared her throat. “You never know,” she smiled. “I gave your daddy my email address so that he could send me pictures,” she said. The truth was, she’d nannied for many children over the years, and she knew that she wouldn’t see Olivia or David. If she was lucky, Adam would remember to send her photos, and she’d marvel at how much they’d grown, but if and when she ever saw them again, their time together would be a distant memory for them, clouded by the million memories of childhood, and they’d forget her. It would be different for her. She never forgot anything about the children she worked with, but this time, this family would be forever in the forefront of her memory, right there at the top. She’d retrieve those memories often because, without even knowing it, the Fletcher family had made this the best Christmas she could have imagined. They’d taught her about the kind of person she wanted to be, and what would make her happy. She would never forget it.

  She zipped up her suitcase and stood it on its end. “Here you go,” she said, holding out her fist. Olivia opened up her little hand, and Carrie put the small bottles of food coloring in her palm. “You and David can make some more rainbow volcanoes now that you know how.”

  “Thank you!” she said, and she kissed Carrie’s cheek. “I’m going to go show David.” She ran out of the room, leaving the door open. Carrie sat on the edge of the bed, holding her suitcase, the room clear of her things. She thought about how Rose would be there in a few days to clean, and any traces of her would be gone. With a deep breath, she stood up and pulled her suitcase to the door.

  “I’ll get your bags,” Adam said from the doorway.

  “Oh. Thank you.” She dropped the handle and met him at the door.

  “I started your car for you,” he said. “So you don’t have to drive in the freezing cold. The heat’s running.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. His scent, the softness of his lips, the sweetness in his face—it almost made her falter. She closed her eyes and tried to commit this feeling to memory. She never wanted to forget it.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. As she walked down to her car, she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her chest that this would be the last time she’d see Adam Fletcher.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Be open to change. It had been a year since Carrie had been in Virginia last, and just like she had a year ago, she was heading there for a new job. Her friends back in North Carolina had sent her off this time with a big party. They’d packed her car with all sorts of Christmas candies and chocolates, a novel for her free time, and a gas card for emergencies. She’d spent the last year working at The Children’s Museum of Wilmington. The term “museum” had always amused her because this place was far from that. It was an enormous facility, full of rooms for children to play, explore, pretend, build—if a child could think it up, it was there. They offered story time, science discovery, cooking. Carrie was in heaven. She was able to do all the things she loved to do with children, but when the museum closed, she could go home, cook a meal, have a glass of wine. When the Program Educator position came available at the Children’s Museum of Richmond, she had to apply. To her complete surprise, she got the job.

  Parking was tricky with the U-Haul trailer attached to her car, but she managed to find a parallel parking spot. Carrie pulled up along the curb at the coffee shop where she’d gotten a coffee so long ago, on her way to the Fletchers’ house. This time, she decided to sit inside and enjoy it. She ordered her coffee and took a seat by the window. The streets were clear, no snow yet, but the sky looked like it could let go at any moment. While she’d made a ton of frien
ds in North Carolina through work, she had only one friend in Virginia—a very good friend whom she’d kept in touch with the whole time she’d been away. She sent him a text: I’m here! Just getting a cup of coffee.

  Her phone lit up on the table, and she laughed to see “Facetime: Adam Fletcher” on her screen. She hit the button, and laughed again when she saw Olivia’s distorted image come across. “Hi, Carrie!” she said.

  “Let me talk,” she could hear David saying in the background.

  “Wait, David,” Olivia said, clearly annoyed, her image jiggling as she batted David away. “When are you coming?”

  It had started with an email. Olivia had missed her, so Adam had let her send an email just after she’d left last year. Of course, Carrie had emailed right back. Then, every time Olivia missed her—which was all the time—he helped her type an email. As they went back and forth, occasionally, she’d ask Olivia about David and Adam, and then Adam finally sent her his own email. From that moment on, they’d kept in touch. Adam was constantly asking her for ideas for rainy days, things they could make together, places he should take them. He had come to an agreement with Gwen to have the kids more often, and he was really enjoying his time with them. The emails had started out as simply helpful emails back and forth, but as the year went on, they became more friendly, and Adam would drop her a line just to see how she was. She loved waking up in the morning to find that he’d sent her something, and she couldn’t wait to send something back to him. So, when she’d gotten the job in Richmond, he was the first person she told.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m just getting a coffee. What are you and David doing?”

  “We’re waiting!” Her image wobbled in her excitement, and Carrie smiled.

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “We can’t wait to see you too! Daddy’s been cleaning all day. Rose has a cold.”