A Christmas to Remember(56)

“Why are our blankets in here?” David asked as they entered the playroom.

“We’re going to build a fort,” Carrie explained.

“How?” Olivia picked up a sheet and tried to fluff it out, but her body was too close to the ground and the sheet fell with a plop.

“Well, let’s get all the chairs first, and I’m going to drag the art table into the middle of the room.

David’s eyes widened. “Are you allowed to do that?”

“Yes, I think it’s fine as long as I put it back.”

Olivia grabbed the ends of a sheet and started running around the room, holding her hands over her head. The sheet—pink with tiny, green katydids on it—trailed behind her. She ran as fast as she could, as if she were trying to fly a kite on a day with no wind. “I’m a flying princess,” she said with a giggle.

“Princesses don’t fly,” David corrected her.

“Well, I am a princess, and I’m flying right now!” Olivia ran one more lap around the room before tiring out and dropping the sheet. By that time, Carrie had managed to get the art table into the center of the room. She draped one of the sheets on top of it, the fabric cascading over each side and puddling at the ground. Olivia crawled inside.

David scooted one of the chairs next to the table and pulled the corresponding side of the sheet over the chair, extending the length of the fort. Carrie helped, moving chairs over, stacking bins, anchoring sheets and blankets onto the shelves with heavy items, until they had constructed an enormous fort.

“Come in, David!” Olivia called, peeking her head out from one of the blankets.

David grabbed his flashlight and spy goggles from the toy box and headed inside. “Whoa!” he said once he’d seen the under the blankets.

As Carrie crawled in after him, Olivia laughed. “Carrie! What are you doing coming into the fort?” Olivia was sitting cross-legged, her hands on her knees, her tiny pink fingernails like candy sprinkles.

“Am I not allowed in?” Carrie asked.

“You’re a grown-up! Grown-ups don’t get in. They do grown-up things.”

“Well, I don’t. I get into forts because I like to play just as much as you do.”

“Why do you like to play with us?” Olivia asked, getting down on her hands and knees and pushing a piece of blanket further out to allow more space inside. She turned around and sat back down, her head cocked to the side, waiting for an answer. “Most grown-ups don’t like to play,” she added.

How could Carrie answer her question? Many adults didn’t do what she did for a living and simply didn’t have the time. Natalie, the last nanny, hadn’t seemed like the type. Was Carrie the first person who’d played with them? “I like to play with you because I have so much fun with you and you have the most amazing ideas. I only put the sheet on the table, but it was David who thought to add the blankets to the chairs. Look how much bigger the fort is now. And! What would I do if I sat outside the fort?”

“I suppose you could do some work. Do you have anything to do on the computer? That’s what Daddy does,” David said. He was always matter-of-fact with his answers, and she wondered if Adam, too, had been like that.

“Shall we show your daddy this fort?”

Olivia grabbed the sheet and ripped it up to allow herself a space to exit. When she did, it jostled the other blankets. “Careful, Olivia!” David scolded. “We want Daddy to see!”

“I know!” she said in return. “That’s why I’m getting out. Let’s show him! And Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Bruce! Let’s show everyone!”

“Shall we round them up?” Carrie said.

As David carefully crawled out from under the sheets and blankets, Olivia grabbed Carrie’s hand. The first child Carrie ever cared for as a nanny had been only a little older than Olivia and David. Her name was Claire. She was six. Claire held Carrie’s hand everywhere she went. She was a wisp of a girl with long, brown hair and bright blue eyes. Carrie had completely fallen for that little girl—she did everything for her. She even went to their house some evenings to watch Claire free of charge after Claire’s mother had decided to stay home full time with her.

This year, Claire had turned sixteen. She was in high school now, she drove a car. The last time Carrie spoke to her, Claire was telling her about the courses she was taking to prepare her for college admissions. That little girl with the bright eyes and brown hair wasn’t little anymore, yet Carrie didn’t feel a bit older than she had when she’d watched Claire. As she looked down at Olivia, her tiny pink fingernails and her petite fingers, she thought about how fast time goes, and, suddenly, she couldn’t get to Adam’s office quickly enough. She felt as if time were speeding up, as if there were a clock ticking behind her. She couldn’t wait to get Adam involved with the children again. She just hoped that he was at a place where he could stop working for a minute. Gingerly, she pushed the office door open, the hinges making a creaking sound.