A Christmas to Remember (8 page)

L
abel
your bad habits and eliminate them
. Carrie underlined the sentence and marked the page with a bookmark. In her journal, she listed her first bad habit: meddling in people’s business, her employer’s family business, to be precise. After the Christmas tree fiasco, there was no way she was ever going to put herself in that position again. She’d care for the children and show them love, but she wasn’t going to intervene anymore. Adam had made it quite clear by his actions where his family fell on his list of priorities: they were at the very bottom.

Not to mention the way it had made her feel when he’d just dismissed her, handing out his credit card with barely a glance in her direction. She couldn’t help thinking that he was missing the point of life. He had a lot of money and very nice things, but he didn’t enjoy any of them. He came in after dark, ate, and went to bed alone. He never sat in his living room and enjoyed a good book or had a nice talk over a long dinner. He didn’t sit back and watch his children play, knowing that every second was gone the moment it happened, and he’d never get it back. He couldn’t enjoy himself. Had he ever? The four days he’d taken off for Christmas should be interesting, she thought.

Carrie tried to see it from his side, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was just spinning her wheels; she hadn’t gotten anywhere with him. He’d seen the trip as just another tick on his list—Get Christmas tree: done. It had not been about spending time with his children at all. And the worst part was that their outing had given the kids yet one more time when their daddy hadn’t made a difference in their lives. He was as absent standing there as he would’ve been at work. Carrie could have just as easily bought the tree herself. She had a sinking feeling, given the way the children acted around him, that it was always this way.

The trouble was that she genuinely liked Adam. He was friendly, usually, and seemed like a nice guy in general. She was rational enough not to expect anything more, but her instincts told her she knew he was capable of more, and that’s what upset her. Did his children ever get to see the look of affection in his eyes when he smiled, the feeling that they were the only ones in the room? Did they know that he was kind?

She thought about all those little moments she’d had with her own dad: The back-yard barbeques when he made smiley faces with ketchup on her burgers and sneaked her soda when her mother wasn’t looking. The Saturday mornings when she’d jumped onto his back while he lay in bed sleeping, and he’d spin around from a sound sleep and become the Sleeping Bed Monster, tossing her into the air. The quiet days when he read the newspaper next to her while she read her favorite Nancy Drew book. None of those were life-shattering events, but collectively, they painted a picture of love that she couldn’t have had otherwise.

This problem was too big for her to solve, and while she wanted to fix it, she knew she was meddling in someone else’s life, and that wasn’t her place. It went against everything she felt in her heart, but she decided she wouldn’t try and orchestrate another meeting like that because all it did was paint him in a worse light, and she didn’t want any more unfavorable memories for the children.

Carrie and the children had decorated the tree today. It had taken all her strength to get it inside, but she’d insisted to Adam that she could manage, knowing he was already in a huff about work and was wearing his work clothes. It was clear that he didn’t like the idea of leaving her to get the tree, but obviously in a rush, he complied, telling her to leave it on the porch if it was too heavy and he’d get it tonight. She’d smiled, the lump in her throat still there but hidden. It had taken three refusals, but he finally relented and went back to work. She’d wobbled the tree into the house, the children attempting to help her, David claiming to hold the most weight, and they’d worked together to get it into the base. Olivia filled it with water after Carrie finally secured it.

David had been in charge of the lights, and he’d dutifully bunched them all down at the bottom. She’d stretched them up to the top of the tree, saying that she wanted to give him enough space to put more lights, and when they were finished, the tree sparkled, the white lights glistening off the window panes. Olivia put on all the ornaments, opting for the ones with the most glitter first. With the angel on top and the deep cranberry-colored tree skirt at the bottom, it sent a glow around the room. Carrie finally felt like it was Christmas. She hoped that the kids felt it too.

And now, she waited—with white lights glistening up the greenery on the banister at the front door, the candles in the windows, snow collecting again on the ground outside, the glow of the tree, and the peppermint scent in the air from the candle she’d bought—she waited with no one to enjoy it but her. It was nearly nine o’clock at night, and Adam wasn’t home. He was probably still having drinks with Andy, discussing things Carrie couldn’t ever talk about with him because she worked with children and not in the corporate world. The house seemed so big when she was alone. She wondered why Adam had such a large house in the first place. He had very nice things, but he didn’t seem the type to be showy with his money, and he was never there. Not even late at night. She looked back toward the garage door. Silence.

Her supper plate sat empty in front of her, the food long gone. She’d had supper by herself, and she couldn’t help but think how that had been her fault for asking him to get the tree. She’d pushed all his work back, and now he was working instead of being home in the warm atmosphere that she’d created. Again, while she felt guilty, he’d made her feel like what she was doing and who she was as a person was trivial to him. If he couldn’t even understand her, how could anyone else? No one understood what it was like to have a life that was work twenty-four hours a day. None of her friends understood. Adam should understand, but, clearly, caring for children didn’t hold the importance to him that his job did. As annoyed as she was with him, she’d liked it when he came home the last two days—those evenings were the one time she had when she could be with another adult. His quiet and controlled nature calmed her. She felt sad—the what-am-I-doing-with-my-life kind of sad. Her life was a mess, and she knew it.

With a deep breath, Carrie pushed away from the table, cleared her dishes, and cleaned up the kitchen. Before going upstairs, she dished Adam some food, put it in the refrigerator, and left him a note with directions for heating it up, just in case he hadn’t eaten with Andy. Then, she grabbed her book and went to bed.

C
arrie peered
out the front window at the enormous camper pulling in. The snow had melted considerably, revealing the black of the street and the aggregate driveway. It was definitely a different scene now than the one she’d encountered five days ago when she’d arrived, but another storm was headed for them by the end of the day and, most likely, it would all be covered in snow and ice again by the morning.

“Is Grandma Joyce here?” Olivia asked, bouncing on her toes, the plastic of her pink and silver sparkle princess dress-up high heels causing a clacking sound against the hardwoods. Anxiety washed over Carrie as she looked down at the twins, just now noticing that they weren’t perfectly dressed the way Natalie would have had them. Olivia was wearing her dress-up princess costume over top of a pair of blue leggings and a green floral shirt. Her hair was bunched beneath her plastic crown, wisps falling around her face. David had jeans and a superhero T-shirt that he must have found in his summer clothes drawer when he’d dressed himself this morning.

She watched as the camper pulled forward and backward, making tracks in the snow, over and over in an attempt to park the gigantic vehicle in the driveway. The sky above it was a dark gray—the kind of sky that would dump snow at any moment—a far cry from yesterday’s blue. Carrie wondered about the people in that camper. What were Adam’s parents like? Were they as wealthy as Adam? Were they workaholics like him? Overachievers? She’d never had extended family in the house while she was watching children before. Would they make things more complicated for her? Would they judge her by the way she’d dressed the children? Would their expectations for the kids be different than hers? It could make for a very difficult holiday if they didn’t agree with her methods.

The camper finally came to a stop. The driver’s side door opened, and a man got out. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a wool coat, and he didn’t look very intimidating. When he turned around, she bit her lip to keep from smiling. She knew exactly who he was just by looking at him, and she knew what Adam would look like in another twenty-five or so odd years. She’d never seen someone look so much like someone else before. The man’s hair was silver, and his stance wasn’t as strong as Adam’s, but he looked just like him. The door opened on the other side and a petite woman with a gentle expression got out. Her gray hair fell just above her shoulders, and she had it tucked behind her ears. She had on a giant coat that nearly swallowed her, her petite legs barely showing beneath it. She was rubbing her arms to keep warm as she walked around the camper. Carrie let the smile finally emerge when she saw the man put his arm around her and try to warm her up. She remembered when she’d been sitting in her car outside this very house, and she wondered what it would feel like to have someone to keep her warm.

The man let go of his wife to help an elderly man that was wobbling down the step of the camper, grabbing on to the side of the vehicle for support and barely getting down on his own. Her first inclination was to run out and help him—he looked very unsteady—but he seemed more stable once he was on the ground. The man pulled a walker out of the camper and placed it in front of him. Carrie worried that he’d never get it through the snow outside, and she wished someone had shoveled the walk.

The family didn’t look intimidating or even overly wealthy, which was surprising. After seeing Adam’s huge house and all the expensive things in it, she’d just assumed that they would be. But the truth was, they looked a lot like her own parents. A sense of calm wrapped around her like a warm blanket as she saw their affection for one another. Then, she had a jolt of excitement as she noted the license plate on the camper. It was from North Carolina—her home state. Immediately, she wondered what part of North Carolina they were from. Had Adam grown up there? He must have worked to lessen his southern drawl over the years. At least if she had to spend time with a family that wasn’t her own, they were people to whom she could most likely relate.

The back door of the camper opened and two more people got out: a woman—his sister? Then, a man. Carrie felt her heart speed up as she heard the clank of the camper doors shutting through the window. The group started walking toward the house. Olivia ran to open it, David following behind her.

“Grandma Joyce!” Olivia called out, swinging the front door wide open and trying to step onto the snowy front steps with her princess heels.

“I’ll come to you, Olivia,” the woman said with a grin that lit up her entire face. She darted around the two men as they made their way to the door. As the woman got closer, Carrie noticed that her eyes were the same blue as Adam’s. “You’re gonna slip if you come out here. I’m coming.” Carrie definitely recognized her accent. It sent a soothing feeling through her. There was something unique about the accents in the southern states; each one of them had their own slight differences. It was the way she said the word “I” and the drawl in the name “Olivia” that had given her away. It was the same drawl she’d heard when her mother had read her books at night all snuggled up in bed. Her “I” sounded just like her dad’s had when he told her stories.

David—the ever protective and focused twin brother—reached out for Olivia’s hand, helping awkwardly to get her off the snow and back into the house. “Come back in,” he said, his face full of concern. His seriousness and the way he looked out for his sister was so sweet. Carrie worried that he wouldn’t have the influences in his life that he needed to retain his natural inclination to be helpful and attentive. “Hi, Grandpa Bruce!” he said, waving from the open door.

“Hey there, squirt!” the man said as he reached the front steps. The older man grabbed the railing and worked his way up. Bruce smiled like Adam too, but there was something wise about his smile that was different than his son’s. Adam’s was more affectionate, whereas this man’s smile showed years of understanding, as if everything he’d done in life were showing through his eyes. She could tell that he was an intelligent man, but he didn’t seem overly stuffy or standoffish in any way. Carrie was glad for that. Adam wasn’t snobbish, despite his money, but his confidence had made her wonder about the people who had raised him, and she had worried that she couldn’t measure up to a family like the one she’d conjured in her head. She was glad that her worry was in vain.

“Hello,” Grandma Joyce said when her gaze fell upon Carrie. She held out her hand in greeting, a big smile spread across her face. She had hardly a wrinkle. Just by looking at her, Carrie could tell so much about her character: the warmth in her eyes, her caring expression, her gentle but firm grip on Carrie’s hand. Any worry that she still had about Adam’s family melted away with that one introduction. “I hope Adam told you we were coming. I’m Adam’s mother Joyce, and this is his father Bruce.”