“I have a cleaning lady who comes once a week, first thing in the morning. Name’s Rose. So, you won’t have to clean while you’re here. Your entire focus should be the children. You’ll be moving into Natalie’s bedroom upstairs,” he said. “It’s closest to the kids’ rooms. I had her change the sheets today and clean up after herself, so it’s ready for you. Do you have your bags with you today?”
“Yes. I left them in the car.”
“No problem, I’ll help you get them in. It’s snowing quite a bit outside. We’d better do that soon.”
“Okay.” Okay? Carrie wanted to look like she knew what she was doing, because she did! But she was coming off like a complete fool. She could hardly string two sentences together around Adam Fletcher. For the first time in her adult life, she became conscious of her own expressions, wondering how she seemed to him. What did she look like to him? She had never contemplated the idea before; she’d always just acted naturally, but with Adam, she wanted to look confident and attractive. She didn’t know what to do with the fear that swept through her at the thought that she didn’t look anything like the person she wanted to be for Adam.
“Basically, the house is yours—whatever you need, feel free to use it. You’re in charge of the children the entire time they’re here. I have them until January, when they’ll return to their mother after Christmas break. You come highly recommended, so I trust you to use whatever techniques you feel appropriate, and I’ll let you know if I disagree with any of your strategies.”
“Do the children have any special requirements, any allergies or anything that I should be made aware of?” she asked, trying to get her mind back on the job. She was glad to be talking about the children. It was easing her anxiety a bit. Children, she knew.
“Nope. None that I know of.”
“Excellent. How about naptimes and bedtimes?”
Adam had looked so assertive, so strong, but with that question, she thought she saw uncertainty on his face—it was subtle, but she’d caught it. She wasn’t able to put her finger on it completely yet, but she sensed a stark difference about Adam and his children than she’d experienced with her other families.
He jotted something onto a pad of paper. “I’ll make a note to ask Natalie to leave you a list of specifics regarding times, food preferences, and the like.” He continued to write, and she was glad for the break in eye contact. “Let’s talk about Christmas,” he said.
Christmas! She was so happy he’d mentioned it. “Do you celebrate it?” she asked carefully, surprised that he’d brought it up, given that there wasn’t a single decoration in the house.
“Of course!” He smiled again, sending her stomach into a whirl of flutters. “I’ve taken four days off over the holidays. My family is coming here since this is my first Christmas with the kids—they usually stay with their mother, but she’s off to Italy, the Amalfi Coast.” Did Carrie detect a wounded quality to his voice at the mention of his ex-wife? He cleared his throat. “My mother insists on coming, so you’ll have a house full of my relatives. Do not feel in the slightest that you need to entertain them. Your only duties are regarding the children’s needs.”
Again, she’d be put in a situation that she’d never experienced: having to watch the children under the eye of Adam’s family. Were they like him—extremely successful, intimidating…? Was she going to be nervous the entire holiday? She looked at the man across from her and tried to envision what his parents would be like. Who had raised this wealthy man who worked all but four days at Christmas? Who had made him into the person he was? Had he built quiet block towers in a museum of a toy room or had he sunk his hands up to his elbows in paint to see what all the colors mixed together might look like? She imagined that he was probably the block-type, and that only heightened her nervousness regarding his family.
“Are they staying through Christmas day?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“So… Were you planning to…” She didn’t want to offend him on day one, but she had to ask. After all, they were into the month of December. “Were you going to get a tree or anything?”
“Ye-es,” he said slowly with thought behind it. It was clear that the idea had only just occurred to him. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had anyone here at Christmas before, and with the kids always at their mother’s, I never did anything special for the holiday. I was going to give you a credit card to order a few gifts for the kids online. From me…”