“I want you to go shopping for the kids. Take your mom with you; she’ll help you pick out the right toys,” she said.
“What?” he let out a pent up breath with the word. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that request.
“Go shopping,” she smiled. His face had lightened considerably, and her heart went into overdrive. Even when she was aggravated with him, Carrie couldn’t hide her affection for him. She tried to straighten out her smile, but it kept coming back against her will. It was time she admitted it to herself: she had fallen for Adam Fletcher. She couldn’t rewind things, turn back the clock. She’d gotten too far into this, too close.
He looked at her, the corners of his mouth turned up in that lovable way, and she wondered if he felt anything at all in that moment. When he was with her and nothing else was pulling on his attention, she felt like she was the only person in his world. He made her feel so assured, so happy. She felt like she could tell him anything.
“Tomorrow, I want you to ask your mother to go,” she said. “It’s your first day off, and we only have four days until Christmas. You have no work and the kids have no presents.” She felt the confidence soaring through her. She could get her thoughts out just fine, and she told him exactly what she wanted him to do. It made her feel strong. The way he was looking at her gave her hope that maybe he was taking in this moment as much as she was. Did he feel what she was feeling?
“I’ll ask her to go tomorrow morning.”
“You will?” she said, unable to conceal her smile. She wanted to put her hands on his face and kiss him. That was the first time she’d allowed herself to think about kissing Adam. It would be so natural to put her arms around his neck, push herself up on her toes, and press her lips to his.
“Yes,” he said, smiling down at her. Did she see affection in his eyes?
“Thank you,” she said, using all her self-control to keep her feet planted where they were and her arms by her sides.
“You’re welcome.” His eyes moved around her face. She wanted to know his thoughts. She wanted to hear his voice as he told them to her. “We have to go in the morning, though, because we have the kids’ Christmas play tomorrow night.”
He’d remembered. And he’d said “we” which meant he planned to go! The thrill of having him there swelled within her. “Yes,” she said. “The morning would be great.”
Chapter Eighteen
To ease anxiety, it is sometimes helpful to find healthy distractions. Carrie smiled to herself as she thought about how fitting that line was now. Originally, she’d worried about having Adam as a distraction, but today, she celebrated it. The engine of Adam’s silver Five Series BMW barely made a sound as he opened the car door to let her in. When Carrie sat down on the passenger seat, she could feel the warmth from the heater that he’d had running for the last ten minutes as they’d gotten ready to leave. When Adam had asked Joyce to go shopping, she’d suggested that Carrie go instead since she was probably up on all the latest in children’s toys. They’d tried to convince Joyce further, but she’d flat refused, saying she hadn’t bought toys in decades, and she’d rather spend time with the children. Joyce and the children were at the front door, Olivia waving with one hand, her baby doll in the other. David stood behind them, peeking around his grandmother and waving goodbye intermittently. They backed inside and shut the door just as Carrie shut herself into the car.
The seats were black leather, soft to the touch, and perfectly clean—not a speck of dust. Her shoes dropped snow on the floor mats, and she worried that it would make a spot when it melted. She let her eyes roam around the sleek dashboard, thinking about how different this car was to hers. She felt frumpy in it. Adam got in and latched his seatbelt. Unlike her, he fit perfectly in the car’s interior. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his shiny Rolex peeking out from under his coat, reminding her of the time that was ticking away, the tiny number of hours she had before she’d have to leave.
As he drove through the neighborhood streets, she thought again how she didn’t feel like she belonged in a car like this, and she wondered if Andy had ever been in her seat. She was willing to bet that Ms. Simpson would look a lot more comfortable in it than she did. Carrie didn’t need fancy cars and big houses to be happy. She looked over at Adam. His hand was on the stick shift between them, resting there. She wondered if he felt like he needed all this to be happy. Would he be just as happy in her little car with her? Why had he surrounded himself with so many pricey things when he barely noticed any of them? He never gave himself time to enjoy them. He shifted as they merged onto the highway, and she watched his hand move. Even his hands were familiar to her now, the curve of his knuckles, the movement of his fingers. She wondered what it felt like to feel his touch on her face.