A Christmas to Remember(10)

Her eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets, her mouth wanted to hang down to the floor in exasperation, but she kept it all inside. What about Santa Claus? What about tree decorating and cookie baking? Didn’t he realize how important those experiences were? And didn’t he know what to buy his own children? No wonder they hadn’t run to him. They probably hadn’t spent enough time with him to feel anything for him! She hoped to goodness the kids got all those experiences at their mother’s because it was clear that Adam wasn’t going to do it. Then, she stopped herself. She was jumping to conclusions, judging Adam when she didn’t know all the facts yet, however clear to her they seemed.

“May I have a small allowance for holiday activities?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Buy whatever you’d like. And you can decorate the house too. It would make my mother easier to live with,” he grinned at her. So, he wasn’t completely closed off to the idea. Carrie wondered if, like the kids, he too just needed to get his hands in some paint to loosen up. She thought of his sleeves rolled up, his fingers covered in primary colors, the children beside him, that smile on his face… That perfect family picture she created started to spin anxiety through her stomach as she realized that she was fantasizing about someone who most likely would not ever put himself in that position. Then, quickly, she cleared her mind of it before the splotches returned.

“David and Olivia have a Christmas pageant on December twenty-first. The family may want to attend, but just to be sure I’ve got all my ducks in a row, I’d like you to be in charge of getting the kids there. It’s at five o’clock.”

She pulled out her cell phone and keyed in the date and time. As she did, she wondered if he was asking her to take them because he wasn’t planning on going. Wouldn’t he want to see his children dressed as little angels or the baby Jesus? Didn’t he realize that he only had a blip in his life to see them like that, and then they’d be too old?

“I’m sure you’re ready to have some supper. Shall we get your bags?” he asked.

“Okay,” she said, inwardly wincing at supplying her same one-word response. Perhaps in time, she’d get over the fact that he was successful, handsome, kind, and single… She could only hope.





Chapter Four





Speak confidently. Confidence is key in making favorable first impressions.

“Let me just grab a few beers on the way in.” Adam closed the garage door, shutting out the drifting snow, and set her suitcases down. “Do you like beer, by chance?” he asked. He led her to a stainless steel refrigerator-like contraption on the far wall of the garage. With a tug on the handle, the door opened, revealing rows upon rows of brown, long-necked bottles. They had trendy yellow and red labels that read Salty Shockoe. Carrie followed the curly S’s with her eyes, noting the detail in the lettering.

The truth was she actually did like beer. Back in college, she’d been the only one of her friends who really, truly preferred it to other drinks. She would come home on the weekends and watch football with her dad. He always let her pick the beer, and their visits to the supermarket to get snacks before games were fond memories. As they sat on the sofa together, her mother would plop down beside them, wrinkle her nose at their bottles, watch a few minutes of the game and then busy herself with something else, but Carrie could stay there all day. She hadn’t recalled a memory like that in quite a while. It made her feel nostalgic and lonely at the same time.

She’d never seen this particular brand of beer before, but Carrie had heard how Richmond was known for its craft beers and microbrews. It had been featured on a travel show on TV once. It seemed fitting now that she’d seen Richmond with all its historical buildings and casual feel. The whole city had a rustic quality to it. Brick buildings, cobblestone streets still in place, front porches. Just like a good beer, Richmond was hearty, its culture evident and strong, rich with flavor and history.

“I do like beer,” she said, wondering why Adam had so many bottles. He was very wealthy, and he could afford to stockpile his favorite beer if he wanted to. But when did he have time to drink it? Perhaps that’s why there were still so many in the fridge. Did he drink it alone in that airy office of his? The idea made her look at him a little differently. Was he as lonely as she was? Did he work too much just like her?

“You do like beer?” He looked surprised. Then she thought about what he probably saw when he looked at her: her light brown hair tucked behind her ears, her colorless lip gloss, her frumpy sweater. She probably didn’t look like she ever went out a day in her life. It had been so long since she’d had any opportunity to go out, she’d sort of forgotten about herself and what she must look like to other people. The feelings of inadequacy stirred inside her.