Chapter Twenty-Two
Be in the moment.
“What do you like to talk about with Daddy?” Olivia asked Carrie, crawling under her blankets as Adam pulled them up for her. Adam was quiet. He seemed to be listening. Perhaps Carrie’s answer was as interesting to him as it was to Olivia. He sat down on the foot of her bed, and Carrie kneeled down beside her.
“Oh, anything, really,” she smiled in Adam’s direction. It looked as though Carrie were just trying to make conversation with Olivia, but she was answering honestly. She did love to talk to Adam, and she could talk to him about anything—it wouldn’t matter. She had so many things she wanted to know: What had his childhood been like? What did he enjoy doing for fun? Had he read all those books in his office? What was his favorite ice cream flavor? Was he ticklish? There were so many questions that she could spend a lifetime asking them all.
“Do you know what he’s really good at doing?” Carrie asked with mock enthusiasm.
“Making beer!” Olivia said a little too loudly, clearly proud that she knew the answer.
Carrie and Adam both laughed at the same time, and Carrie had to cover her mouth to keep the sound from traveling down the hallway. This was one of those moments she wouldn’t soon forget. Being with the Fletchers was as comfortable as being with her own family. It didn’t matter that she was in an enormous house with a man and children she hadn’t known very long.
It reminded Carrie of when she had been looking for her first car. She’d been on a budget, so she had limited choices, and the options were worrying her. She sat in a few cars, put her hands on the steering wheel, and tried to imagine herself in each. Everyone was about the same. But then, out of nowhere, she found a Honda that someone was selling dirt cheap because they were moving overseas and wanted to get rid of it quickly. She immediately went over to the house with the car and sat down in the seat. She’d never been in a Honda before, but somehow, all the buttons were right where she’d imagined they’d be, the seat fit her like a glove, and she just knew. It felt like she’d had that car all her life. That’s how the Fletcher family felt to her—familiar.
Carrie shook her head, still grinning. “Know what else he’s good at?”
“No.” Olivia looked over at her Daddy, her eyes droopy from lack of sleep.
“He’s great at reading stories.” Adam showed his surprise but then contorted his features to a smile for Olivia. Okay, she lied just a little, but it was the perfect opportunity to get him involved, really involved, with no work demands. “Can we find a story?”
Olivia extended a tiny finger toward her bookshelf. “How about that one, the princess one?” Carrie pulled a paperback off the shelf and handed it to Adam. He lay down on top of the covers next to Olivia and opened the book as Carrie sat down on the floor next to him. She was so close to his face that she could see the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, the slight stubble that revealed itself at the end of every day, the way his chest moved up and down with his breath. He started reading, the words coming out, but Carrie wasn’t comprehending them. She was too busy thinking about him, about what it would be like to turn over in bed and see the face she was seeing now. She noticed how small the book looked in his strong hands and the way he had to hold his thumbs to the side so they didn’t cover the pictures. His words were finally floating into her consciousness, and she realized that he was quite a natural at reading to children. Olivia snuggled into his side just like Carrie wished she could.
When he got to the last page, Adam kept his body still, turning only his head as he looked at his daughter. Olivia was asleep. Her head rested on his bicep, and her limbs were wrapped around his arm. Gently, he kissed the top of her head. It was such a small gesture, but the impact of it caused a lump in Carrie’s throat. He turned to her, their faces too close. He paused just a second. He seemed to be considering something, deliberating. Her head was cloudy, woozy from the thrill of the moment.
“How do I get up?” he mouthed.
Carrie didn’t want him to get up. She didn’t want to let the moment end. Olivia wasn’t her own daughter, and Adam wasn’t her husband, but it felt as right and easy as if they were. Carefully, she leaned over Adam and gently unwrapped one of Olivia’s arms from him. When she did, she could feel the warmth of his body underneath her, the presence of him assaulting her senses. She tried not to let it get the best of her as she slid her hand between Olivia’s cheek and Adam’s arm and gently scooted Olivia onto her pillow. Carrie’s hair brushed Adam’s face by accident, and, with his free hand, he scratched the scruff on his chin and then pushed her hair away. When he did, he held the strands of hair between his two fingers for a moment and she almost couldn’t breathe.