A Christmas to Remember(100)

“Hi, David! You’ve gotten tall!”

He smiled shyly and then said, “Daddy, can we show her the trains we built?”

Adam nodded. “Let’s show her in a few minutes. We’ll let her get settled first.”

“Okay. I’ll go get Olivia.” He ran off, leaving the two of them together again. Adam took her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

“I smell peppermint,” she noted as he closed the closet door.

“I put your candle on.”

She smiled.

“Carrie!” she could hear Olivia’s high-pitched squeal and the thuds of her feet on the hardwoods before she could see her. She rounded the corner, nearly skidding on one foot, almost slipping in her socks, and threw her arms around Carrie. “Hi!” Her hair was longer now, pulled back with a ribbon at the end, and she’d gotten a few inches taller as well—taller than David even—her limbs thinning out and looking more lanky.

“I have missed you,” Carrie said, giving her a squeeze.

Olivia bounced over to Adam, grabbing his hands. “Daddy, Daddy! Let’s make her some of that hot chocolate we made together yesterday! It was so yummy!”

Adam looked down at his daughter, affection in his eyes. “Maybe we can.”

“Will you tell me if you do? I want to go play in the playroom with David.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

Olivia pulled him down to her level by his hands and kissed his cheek. Then, she let go and ran down the hallway and disappeared. Carrie was almost breathless at the sight of it. Their fondness for one another was effortless, as if they’d been that way all the time. She remembered that little girl in the blue dress and tights who barely acknowledged her father when he entered the room that first day she’d come to work for them. Now she could see the relationship Olivia had with her father, the ease in which she talked to him, the comfort she had in grabbing his hands. And he’d built trains with David. It almost brought tears to her eyes. Seeing Adam, watching this new version of his life unfold—the Christmas decorations, the way the kids were with him, the absence of stress lines on his face—she was sentimental.

“How far away is your apartment from here?” he asked, leading her into the kitchen.

“Only about five minutes.”

Adam raised his eyebrows, a smile on his face. He looked so happy. Seeing him like that brought all those feelings right back, and she felt a torrent of nervous energy just like she’d had so long ago. She wondered if he felt the same way. Time would only tell.

“Too full from your coffee to have a beer?” he asked.

“Never,” she smiled.

Adam opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle, but as he did, she got a glimpse of the beers that had been stacked in the door. Not a white label in sight; they all had her green holly and berries in the background. “Nice label,” she said as he handed her a beer.

“Thank you. I had an amazing designer.” He winked at her, and her nerves went crazy. She put the bottle to her lips and drank quickly to squelch the buzz of excitement that was consuming her. He grabbed his own bottle and took a drink before moving closer to her. He was standing right in front of her, invading her personal space, their bodies too close. She looked up at him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, looking down at her.

“Me too.” She wasn’t at a loss for words this time. She could have said more, but he was already reaching for her beer and taking it from her hands. He set it next to his on the counter.

“I’ve never asked, but I’ve always wondered what you thought that night after the Marleys’ party when we were outside and I kissed you.” He was looking right at her, his gaze unwavering. It was a very direct question, but it was a logical step from the emails they’d shared. He was testing her, trying to see if she felt for him what he clearly felt for her. And she did have feelings for him. She had completely fallen for him, and she hadn’t found anyone else who could make her feel like he did.

“I thought it was… perfect.” She remembered that night—the snow, the cold, and the warmth she felt in his arms. She’d wanted to have his arms around her quite a few times when she was away over the last year. She’d missed him terribly, and seeing him now was almost as perfect as that night because she knew that she didn’t have to leave again. It was as if they were picking up right where they’d left off, but it was even better. For a whole year, she’d gotten to know him in writing—he’d made jokes, told her little things about himself, shared his feelings. Getting to know him through email removed the tension that she felt standing opposite him and allowed her to know who he was as a person. Now, armed with all that knowledge, she could give in to his advances easily. She’d fallen for him inside and out.