A Christmas to Remember(97)

She suddenly wanted a drink, herself. Was she supposed to be the nanny or the woman he’d taken to the Ashford Christmas party?

“Glass?” he asked. She nodded, and he pulled a pint glass from a cabinet.

As he poured the amber liquid into the glass, tilting it in his way to minimize the foam at the top, she just came right out with it.

“I saw today how happy you made your family. Sharon even seems pleased.” He smiled, and she wished she could just be quiet and take in this moment, hold it close, and never let it go. But she had to know. “With your family all here to help out, will you need me any longer?” she asked.

He took a step closer to her and handed her the glass. “I was going to talk to you about that.” He set the beer down without drinking it, so she did the same. Perhaps he’d just needed to busy his hands for a while because now he seemed to have calmed himself a little more. “I think my mom wants to watch the kids until Gwen returns. I’d be happy to pay you the amount we’d discussed at the outset so as not to set you back any pay…”

“Okay,” she said, ignoring his comment about the pay. She could feel the rush of sadness at the thought of leaving them all, but there really was no need for her to stay. She understood that. This family didn’t need her anymore. And suddenly, while she was terribly sad, she knew it was time to get working on herself.

He took a drink of his beer. “But I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime.”

She sat there silently for a moment, contemplating his offer. She felt a pinch in her chest, and she knew why. Her thoughts on the matter were bittersweet. She could hardly believe what she was thinking. She had true feelings for Adam; she couldn’t deny them. She wanted to spend every minute with him. She wanted to wake up next to him in the morning, have him be the last person she saw before closing her eyes at night.

But.

She took in a breath as the thoughts entered her mind. Adam had just carved out time for his children. What kind of person would she be if she filled those hours selfishly? He needed time to grow with his kids, to get to know them, to learn how to care for them.

If she stayed in Virginia, she’d find herself waiting, constantly waiting. Waiting for Adam to find time for her, waiting for more than what he was able to offer her, waiting for the chance to begin her own life. She was tired of waiting for her happiness. She needed to move on, get up and make something of herself.

All these thoughts came crashing in on her, and she could tell by his face that he saw them in her expression. He’d asked her to go out with him. She’d wanted to hear that almost the entire time she’d known him. The sadness that swelled in her stomach at her answer was almost unbearable. She knew what she wanted in her heart, but she had to go against it in this instance. It just didn’t make sense any other way.

“I see,” he said, his eyes dropping down from her face in thought. She hadn’t had to say a thing; he’d just been able to read her. Her chest felt tight at the admission as she shook her head, telling him no—the answer he’d already guessed. All she could hope for in life was someone as wonderful as Adam, who could read her without a single word spoken like he could. In a different time, a different place, they’d be perfect for each other.

“You need to spend time with your family, and I have things pulling me back home,” she said. She swallowed to alleviate the pressure from the lump in her throat. “I’ll spend the day with the kids tomorrow,” she said, suddenly worrying about them. She couldn’t just up and leave without saying goodbye and having some sort of transition. She wasn’t sure how she’d get through the day without crying, but she had to. For the children. It was always for the children.



“Will you come and see me?” Olivia asked as Carrie tried to fold her evening gown and pack it into her suitcase. That was a tough question without an easy answer. The truth was, she lived a state away, and she probably wouldn’t ever see this little girl with her curly hair and unstill feet again.

Carrie felt the prick of tears and cleared her throat. “You never know,” she smiled. “I gave your daddy my email address so that he could send me pictures,” she said. The truth was, she’d nannied for many children over the years, and she knew that she wouldn’t see Olivia or David. If she was lucky, Adam would remember to send her photos, and she’d marvel at how much they’d grown, but if and when she ever saw them again, their time together would be a distant memory for them, clouded by the million memories of childhood, and they’d forget her. It would be different for her. She never forgot anything about the children she worked with, but this time, this family would be forever in the forefront of her memory, right there at the top. She’d retrieve those memories often because, without even knowing it, the Fletcher family had made this the best Christmas she could have imagined. They’d taught her about the kind of person she wanted to be, and what would make her happy. She would never forget it.