Читать книгу October Kiss - Kristen Ethridge - Страница 6

Chapter Two

The kids may not have taken to her, but Poppy was committed. Well, at least temporarily.

However, in order to make it through the next month, Poppy knew she’d have to get the kids on her side. She thought of the rough-and-tumble fun she’d had with her nephews while she’d been staying with them. If she could just get through to Zoe and Zach, there would be fun in the Larson house, too.

As Poppy walked up the stairs, her eyes locked on a smiling family portrait framed and hanging on the wall. She clearly recognized Ryan and the kids in the frame—although the kids were much younger. Zach looked barely old enough to qualify for toddlerhood. He sat on the lap of a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. That must have been Ryan’s wife.

Sadness tugged at Poppy’s heart. Sadness for the woman who wouldn’t get to see her kids grow up. Sadness for the man who wouldn’t get to grow old with the woman he’d married. Sadness for the kids who would only know their mother through stories.

None of those emotions surprised her.

But what did surprise her was the last fleeting twist of those emotions that whispered to her, You’d better figure out this commitment thing for real, Poppy, or you’ll never have anything like this…

Poppy had spent her whole adult life drifting from one idea to another, like a balloon.

A human balloon, that’s what she’d been. But not anymore. She was committed. These kids needed her. They needed fun stories of their own to tell about growing up. Poppy felt like she owed it to the woman in the picture frame to see to it that her kids were happy in the time that they were in Poppy’s care.

She couldn’t bring their mother back, but she could commit to Zoe and Zach that she would help them enjoy their time together and would do her best while she worked here.

Poppy paused at the door across the landing from the stairs. Pink, sparkly letters had been affixed to the white paint declaring “Zoe’s Room.” A sign just below gave further instruction.

“No boys allowed by order of Zoe.” Poppy smiled. She remembered the “boys have cooties” years.

One more sign further clarified the situation: a rectangle of purple construction paper with glittery heart-shaped stickers attached declared “Except Zach sometimes.”

It was good to see that Zoe seemed to have a strong friendship with her brother.

Poppy knocked briefly on the door. “You guys in there?”

“Yes.”

“Noooo.”

The responses from inside Zoe’s room contradicted each other.

“Ouch. I mean no.” Apparently the primary occupant of the room had quickly applied some tough-love diplomacy to her little brother.

Brothers and sisters were the same everywhere. “Can I come in?” Poppy asked with a laugh she couldn’t contain.

“What’s the password?” Zoe’s voice sounded muffled behind the door.

Poppy decided to play this one out for a bit. “Password.”

“Not even close,” Zoe scolded.

“Flibbertigibbet.” Poppy threw out the silliest word she could think of.

“No.” Zoe sounded exasperated.

“Bingo-bongo.”

“No.” This time, it was Zach’s turn to yell.

“I don’t…um…” Now was the time. “Pumpkinhead?”

The door opened wide. Zach stared in silent disbelief. Zoe leaned against the door she’d just opened and crossed her arms. A scowl fixed heavily across her face.

“My dad told you,” the young girl said accusingly. Even the dark brown pigtails that fell on either side of her face seemed to be throwing some serious shade in Poppy’s direction.

Poppy raised her eyebrows. She didn’t really want to shove her new boss completely under the bus. “Maybe.” Racking her brain, she tried to think of a reason for her to know the password other than learning it from Ryan. “Or maybe mermaids can read minds.”

Zach threw a glance at his sister. He was torn between believing Poppy’s magical answer and remaining loyal to his sister.

Play it cool, Poppy, she reminded herself. If she could get Zach to buy the mermaid logic, maybe she could get Zoe to suspend her disbelief too.

“What am I thinking?” Zoe wasn’t quite prepared to let Poppy off the hook.

“Hmmm…you’re thinking…what am I thinking?” Poppy figured it would be a no-brainer to throw Zoe’s own words back at her, because naturally, she had to have thought the words first in order to have said them.

Before either kid could have a chance to respond, Poppy changed the subject.

“You guys want to go have some fun?” she asked.

Much to Poppy’s relief, the kids nodded slowly, eyes still wide with the last, lingering traces of skepticism. If she could just come up with the right thing to do, Poppy thought she might begin to win Zoe and Zach over.

Fun seemed to be a universal language—no password needed.

Sundays in the fall were made for playing catch with your kids and picking apples, not glass walls and polished bamboo floors, Ryan thought as he walked down the hallway toward his office.

Everything surrounding him looked perfect. A black server cabinet stood off to his left in a separate, glass-enclosed room. The lights on the front of the big metal box blinked slowly at him, each blue dot making Ryan feel colder and more alone.

He shook off the guilty feeling that had settled on his shoulders. It was a sacrifice to give up his weekend with the kids to be here at the office, but in the end, it would be worth it. If the sale to Yamoharo Global went through without a hitch, it would benefit the kids. College without loans, trips to Disney World—pretty much everything for Zach and Zoe’s future—both practical and fun—would be within Ryan’s reach.

If he could stay focused for the next month and cross the finish line.

He just had to stay the course. That’s why he’d brought Poppy into their lives.

He sat down at his desk and flipped open the sleek gray laptop. The background of the computer flashed the Parcel Technologies green and yellow and blue knot-style logo. Every time he saw it, it brought him a feeling of contented pride. He’d promised Laurie he’d take care of the kids. And here was the proof. Parcel Technologies—their dream to secure their future—was thriving. By the end of the month, the company would be going places and partnering with global powerhouses. Neither he nor Laurie could have ever dreamed about such a thing during their heart-to-heart talks as the cancer pulled her further and further away from her family.

He clicked the envelope icon and brought up his inbox, intending to clear out whatever was in there first before he started the in-office part of his day.

The screen lit up yellow with row after row of brand-new emails. Most of them were from the advisor he’d hired to guide him through the intricacies of working with a Japanese company. Abigail Morwell spoke fluent Japanese and had been a highly-sought-after consultant to several other Pacific Northwest tech start-ups who were selling their apps to conglomerates in Asia.

She knew her stuff, but Ryan was convinced she never slept—or thought about anything other than the deal at hand.

A pop-up message quickly assessed the level of damage: Welcome, Ryan. You have 450 new messages.

All he could do was laugh. He was going to be at the office far longer than he’d planned today.

“That’s got to be a new inbox record,” he said out loud—even though he was the only one there to hear it.

The Whidbey Island Harvest Festival was one of the landmark events signaling fall had come to the Pacific Northwest. Ever since she’d visited with her nephews for the first time several years ago, Poppy had sworn she’d never miss this annual fun.

Signs at the entrance pointed the way to “Corn Huskin’” and “Candy Apple Lane” and “Jack-O’-Lantern Junction.” Poppy took in a deep breath of the fall air. It felt as crisp as one of the bright red apples that would be used for apple bobbing.

Poppy had second-guessed a lot about her life lately, but bringing the Larson kids here definitely felt like she’d made the right decision. There was no way they could keep their pouting faces on here. Balloons, hay bales, pumpkins…what here couldn’t put a smile on any face?

“Now this is a harvest festival.” Poppy strolled past the mini Ferris wheel with one little Larson on either side.

Zoe still refused to give up her interrogation. “If you’re a mermaid, then where’s your tail?”

Poppy decided the best way to beat the precocious girl at her own game was to play along instead of fighting against the stream of questions. “It only comes out in the ocean.”

“What do you eat?” Zoe would not be deterred.

“Seaweed and algae.” That seemed like a reasonable answer to Poppy, although she picked up a bag of popcorn off a red picnic table as she answered. She proceeded to toss a few fluffy kernels in her mouth, despite the fact that popcorn wasn’t on the approved list of mermaid foods.

“You don’t eat fish?” Zoe grabbed her own bag of popcorn, then handed another small striped sack to her brother.

Spinning the story started to become second nature to Poppy. She fired off the answer rapidly. “No…fish are my friends.”

“Do you speak fish?”

“Fluently. But my French is better.” Got her. Zoe stayed several steps behind, overcome by silence. Zach followed Poppy as she strode purposefully toward freshly-shucked corn piled high atop a red-and-white checkerboard tablecloth. It all seemed so…harvesty. Poppy loved it. And she was ready to move on from the relentless barrage of questions and start enjoying this perfect afternoon with the kids.

“Corn on the cob,” Poppy said to Zach. “Do you know how to pick out corn?”

He shook his head.

Poppy placed both of their popcorn bags at the edge of the picnic table, then began to dig in the pile of yellow and green in front of them. “So, get the ones that are, like, kind of yellow underneath. Those are the good ones.”

Zoe ran up behind Poppy and forced herself in the space next to her brother. This time, she adopted the rapid-fire approach. “What’s your favorite food? How many marshmallows can you fit in your mouth at one time? What’s the scariest rollercoaster you’ve ever been on? And can ghosts swim?”

Poppy returned fire with a seriousness that she hoped would let Zoe know she was taking the motive behind the girl’s questions seriously. She knew Zoe was feeling the new nanny out in her own youthful way, and Poppy respected that. “Anything with mustard. Nine. Drop of Doom. Only fish ghosts.”

Finally, Zoe laughed. “What are we going to do with all this corn?”

The change of subject brought a smile to Poppy’s face. “We’re going to make cornbread.”

“Yeah, what are we going to do with that?” This time, Zoe’s question was genuine.

“We’re going to eat it—along with the chili we’re going to make for dinner. Does your dad like chili?” A frown wrinkled Poppy’s face. This grand dinner plan had come to her while strolling across the Harvest Festival, but she’d completely disregarded the fact that she didn’t know any of the Larson family’s likes or dislikes when it came to food.

“He eats at work.” Zoe’s shoulders slumped and she picked at the silk threads on an ear of corn. “That’s why you’re with us. So he doesn’t have to be.”

Poppy tried to reassure her. “I bet he wishes he was here.”

“I hate cornbread.” Zoe’s whole demeanor had changed from just seconds before.

Clearly, Zoe was going to be a challenge. One minute, Poppy thought she’d finally broken through. The next minute, the girl had fallen back into her old, defensive, skeptical habits. Poppy had to find a way to get through to her. But how?

“More for me!” Zach announced. Poppy wished Zoe’s resistance could be broken down as quickly as Zach’s. The younger Larson had already started to warm to Poppy, and Poppy loved it. She remembered when her own family split up and how she’d wished for a grown-up who understood and tried to make things better.

Poppy wanted to be that grown-up for these kids. They deserved some stability in their lives and someone who would be there during more than just the hours when they were asleep.

“And meeee.” She raised her hand and gave Zach a high-five. He enthusiastically slapped Poppy’s hand back.

There, Poppy thought with a smile. They were officially on the same team. Hashtag: Nanny Goals.

This felt good.

Until two seconds later, when Zach began to scream. “SPIDER! Spider! Spider!” He ran off, still screaming. “Aaugh!”

“Let’s go.” Poppy dropped her armful of corn ears back atop the pile on the table and began to run toward the barn, in pursuit of Zach.

“Zach? Where are you going?” Zoe’s attitude of distrust immediately dropped. She sprinted ahead as though nothing mattered more than her brother.

Poppy followed quickly behind. “Zach?”

Zoe continued yelling after her brother as she rounded picnic tables and zigzagged between other festival-goers enjoying a lazy Sunday stroll through the grounds. “Zach!”

Finally, they caught up to him near the goat stall. Zach sat sullenly on a bench. The colorful pumpkins and flowers on the table behind him sat in cheerful contrast to his visible turmoil. Poppy squatted down to be at eye level with him as she tried to offer reassurance.

“Hmm…so I think spiders might like corn on the cob as much as people do. Sorry, buddy.”

A small shard of guilt tore at her heart. He’d only started picking through the ears of corn because Poppy had. She needed to make it right. But she could see in Zach’s gray eyes that he was desperately trying to sort out his own emotions.

Poppy wanted to honor his desire to be a big kid, to find his place in a world where he hadn’t had much control over the larger events. In her soul, she felt like she needed to just punch the pause button and give Zach some space.

She pointed at the fenced-in goat pen just a few steps away. Zoe was kneeling in front of the gate, petting one of the animals inside. “Okay, I’m going to be right over there, if you need me—” Poppy patted him on the knee and then pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “Right there.”

Poppy strolled over to the goat pen and leaned on the green metal bars of the gate. “Hey, Zoe.” Maybe while Zach was sorting out his fear of arachnids, she and Zoe could sort out the young girl’s skepticism of the new nanny.

“Let me guess. He’s not talking to you.” Zoe summed up the situation pretty succinctly. Poppy assumed Zoe had seen this reaction before.

“Nope. That’s okay. Talking’s overrated.” Poppy threw a quick glance over her shoulder to check on Zach, then turned back and waved her fingers at the half-dozen goats walking around the pen and bleating. “I’m going to talk to these guys. Hey, nanny. Hi, I’m a nanny too.”

Zoe followed the train of thought. “I know why they call it a nanny goat.”

“Why?”

“Because nannies come in and try to take over.”

Ouch. Zoe’s truth bomb just explained everything about her reluctant attitude since she’d first been summoned to the stairs at the house to meet Poppy.

Another shriek from another Larson child broke through the general sounds of joy at the Harvest Festival. This time, it was Zoe. “My favorite sweater!”

Poppy looked down. Three goats had crowded up to Zoe and were pulling her knitted sweater through the bars of the pen’s gate. Poppy clearly heard the sound of fabric ripping as the lead goat took the hem in her teeth and stepped back, tearing a hole in Zoe’s garment.

A fear of spiders, Poppy could deal with. But fending off goats was a whole different thing. This was a nanny curveball she never could have imagined. The Whidbey Island Harvest Festival had attack goats.

Think fast, Poppy… “Okay—okay… Off! Roll over! Spit! Heel!”

The goats followed nanny directives just about as well as the Larson kids did.

Finally, Zoe disengaged. She looked down at what remained of the hem of her sweater and waggled it at Poppy. Then she narrowed her eyes and leaned toward Poppy defensively. “This is all your fault! I want to go home.”

“Me too.” Zach finally broke his silence.

“Me three.” Poppy surrendered.

Somehow, she made it through dinner without engendering too much conflict. The kids mostly kept to themselves. They picked at their chili and homemade cornbread, but Poppy was too drained to encourage them to eat any better. Today hadn’t gone quite as planned.

Okay, it hadn’t gone at all as planned.

When Megan told Poppy she was good at taking care of kids, Poppy thought that had to mean something. If an unbiased third-party saw something capable in her, that had to count, right?

Yet, just like tossing pizza dough, bonding with kids was harder than it looked. It was time to confront the fact that her nephews probably liked her simply because she was their aunt. They were related. The boys had to like her.

Total strangers…that was another story entirely.

And one that would not have a happy ending, Poppy feared.

After dinner, she tried a string of activities to get the kids engaged, but nothing worked. Everything just got tossed aside after no more than a few minutes into a big, colorful mess of failures. Once the kids had been in bed for about an hour, Poppy ventured back upstairs to check on them. At least maybe she could dare to hope that they’d like her in their dreams. Poppy tiptoed into Zach’s room. He was soundly sleeping, a fact which relieved Poppy greatly. Hopefully he wouldn’t see any spiders while his eyes were closed.

She shuffled down the hallway to Zoe’s room. The door stood open. Poppy leaned in around the doorway. A twitch under the covers tipped Poppy off. Zoe was faking sleep.

Zoe had to know Poppy was there. May as well acknowledge it. Poppy held her breath in a little bit of hesitation, fearing what else Zoe might have been thinking up to say as she tossed and turned. “Sleep well,” Poppy said softly. She figured that was a benign, but caring, sentiment. Hopefully it wouldn’t backfire on her and turn into another war of words.

“You woke me,” Zoe said accusingly as she flopped onto her back.

“Awesome.” She ran her hands through her hair and thought back to yoga stretches and pizza dough and size two wedding dresses. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to find her zen nannying either.

This was one more commitment that wasn’t going to go the distance.

Pulling into the driveway after a long day of answering hundreds of emails and participating in conference calls, Ryan couldn’t believe how late it was. The Seattle sky wasn’t just dark, it looked pitch black. The time had gotten far, far away from him. He hadn’t meant to leave Poppy with the kids this long on their first day together, it was just…

As he got out of the car, Ryan reminded himself to keep his focus. It was just…temporary. That was the word he was looking for. Temporary. Soon, all the craziness surrounding the presentation to Yamoharo Global would be in the past and the future for the entire Larson family would be sunny and bright.

He walked in the house quietly, knowing the kids had to have been asleep for hours.

Blankets and a feather boa were strewn over the staircase rail. In the entryway, Ryan gingerly stepped over a jump rope and something else that he couldn’t exactly identify, best described as doughy. A bomb might as well have gone off in his house while he’d been away. He didn’t know whether to call 911 or just be glad that the kids seemed to have made good use of all the toys he’d bought them.

Poppy sat on the dining room rug, blotting up something with a blue towel.

“Don’t worry…it’s just a little bit of blood.”

“Ah…” Yup, he should have just called 911.

“I’m kidding. It’s just juice.”

The laugh Poppy gave seemed just a little too enthusiastic.

“So, things went well then?” He couldn’t quite tell what the true state of affairs actually was.

Poppy’s wide grin never wavered. “Completely painless.”

“Don’t worry about the rug. Please. The kids asleep?” Ryan took off his jacket and laid it over a chair. One more thing out of place wasn’t going to make much difference.

“One is. The other’s faking.” Poppy stood up and tossed the towel from one hand to the other as she walked. “I took them to the Harvest Festival, where Zach had an unfortunate arachnid incident, and Zoe’s favorite sweater is currently being digested by a goat.”

The lift of her eyebrow finally gave it away. She was exhausted and overwhelmed.

“Oh…” Ryan understood both of those feelings at the moment. His day had been exactly the same. The only difference was that the chaos had been caused by computers, not children.

“They are…wonderful kids.” She dropped her voice and the tone became serious.

He knew where this was headed. He’d heard it before. Last week, to be exact. And two months before that. And three weeks before that. “Oh no.”

“Funny—and unique—and engaging…”

Poppy continued the litany of attributes. Ryan knew they were only justifications for the explosive device she was about to toss at his feet.

“Oh no…” The sound that came out of his mouth sounded more like a growl. He recognized it as the bellow of a wounded animal. He’d heard it on National Geographic before—he just never assumed he would hear it in his own kitchen, coming from his own throat. “You’re quitting.”

“I just don’t think this is for me.” At least she had the grace to sound remorseful about it.

This would go down in the record books as the fastest hire-to-quit time frame for any of the nannies he’d hired. “It’s only been one day.”

“Is that all?” The circles under her eyes confirmed what he already knew about the events she’d put up with today. Ryan studied her face. The perfect brown waves her hair had been curled into this morning now drooped like water at low tide. Poppy seemed drained of all the optimism and energy she’d shown this morning when she’d bounced onto his doorstep with her homemade business card.

“Okay, a long day…but, you know…” Ryan searched for the right words to reassure her, to make her see that in time, things would be better.

He could not lose another nanny. As he’d told Poppy earlier, it was crunch time. He could not afford any more lack of focus. Yamoharo Global would not understand if the presentation in a few weeks’ time did not check every box, answer every question, and overcome every possible objection.

His company’s future depended upon it.

His kids’ future depended upon it—even though they didn’t understand that now.

Everything depended on Poppy and keeping her here to look after the kids so he could focus a few weeks of time exclusively on what stood just around the corner.

“The truth is—” Poppy looked around the room covertly as she rolled her eyes slightly and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m not actually a nanny.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never done this before—except with my sister’s kids—and they have to be nice to me, because we’re related.” She paused for breath and then looked right at Ryan. Her eyes went wide as she searched his face, seemingly looking for a sign of surprise. “Wait…what?”

She’d been honest with him. Now it was Ryan’s turn to be honest with Poppy. Maybe if they built a foundation of truth between each other, they could make this work. He was always telling the kids that honesty was the best policy. Maybe it worked for nannies too. “Your sister told me on the phone the other day.”

“And you still hired me? You must be really desperate.”

“No, it’s just…” Ryan didn’t want to admit how truthful her observation was. He was desperate. Completely. And they both knew it. “Please…can you just hang on a couple more weeks?”

She picked up juice boxes and disposed of them. “You don’t have any relatives?”

“Well, sure we have relatives. We’re not those people,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. Poppy continued methodically picking up kid trash and throwing it away. Ryan picked up two wadded-up napkins and took them to the trash can. “Just no relatives around here.”

She paused. Maybe he would survive until the end of the month after all.

“What day is today?” Poppy ran one hand on either side of her head, threading through her thick, naturally-highlighted hair.

“Still Sunday.” How was that even possible? There was no way this was the same bright and sunny day it had been when he’d walked out the door earlier.

She shook her head dejectedly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Look, I get it. Kids are a huge commitment. Even when they’re not yours.”

Poppy’s head snapped up with precise attention. Her back straightened and her shoulders pushed back. Ryan watched the subtle movements completely transform her features and her body language in just a matter of seconds.

“I can commit. I can commit. Until the end of the month.”

“What about…next month—Thanksgiving?” Hey…if they were bargaining…might as well shoot for the moon.

“This month—Halloween.”

He knew this was as good as he would get out of Poppy Summerall. He’d take it and be thankful. “Perfect. Deal. Great. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She sounded resigned to the fact. But she’d just confirmed she’d be back here at the house, and that’s all that mattered to Ryan right now.

“Say, do you think you could do, like, six a.m.?”

“Don’t push it. But I’m committing.” She gave a little fist-bump motion as she pivoted and headed for the front of the house before the conversation could go any further. She swiftly dodged the toys scattered everywhere as she got away.

Ryan felt the dryness in his throat abate.

“Committing,” Poppy reiterated, then disappeared out the door.

Ryan walked into the kitchen. He had to clean up a huge mess tonight. But at least he didn’t have to deal with the added mess of sourcing another nanny.

Poppy had declared she was committed to the job.

Ryan knew he was committed to getting through the Yamoharo Global presentation.

Now, if he could just get the kids to commit to the idea that Poppy was there to help them all.

Through the windows that framed the entire back wall of Megan’s house, Poppy could see the glow from the firepit in the backyard. Her sister sat in an Adirondack chair, drinking a mug of tea. A string of fairy lights twinkled off to one side.

In short, the entire scene looked idyllic, and idyllic was exactly what Poppy needed after the longest Sunday in the history of Sundays.

If Poppy were to find her zen anywhere in Seattle, Megan’s back patio could be where it was hiding.

“Hello, Sister.” Poppy greeted Megan formally. After all, she’d been the one who had looped Poppy into this whole mess of insanity.

Megan bobbed the tea bag in her mug and tucked a lock of stick-straight black hair behind one ear. “How did it go?”

“Don’t ask.” Poppy sat down and leaned back in the chair. Like all Adirondack chairs, there was no cushion to sink into, but Poppy wasn’t sure she’d ever been more comfortable. It felt good to just sit and let her guard down.

“Just tell me you didn’t quit already.”

If only Megan knew how close she’d come. “I didn’t quit.”

“But you’re going to.” Her dark brown eyes fixed squarely on Poppy’s face.

Poppy could tell Megan had already resigned herself to the inevitable answer.

Under normal circumstances, she would have taken great pleasure in giving her big sister the exact opposite response from what she was clearly expecting. But tonight, she felt too tired to play games. A bone-deep weariness had settled in every cell in her body, and the feeling came out even in her voice. “I told him I would stay until Halloween.”

“He’s a good guy.” Megan leaned back in her chair and delivered the pronouncement with a dash of smug. Even the silver zipper on her blue jacket winked at Poppy as it reflected the glow of the moon above.

Maybe they were discussing two different Ryan Larsons. Poppy gave her sister a dose of side-eye. “He’s a workaholic.”

“And he’s cute.”

Megan hadn’t lost the all-knowing tone of voice.

“If you like geek-chic.” Poppy tried to throw Megan off this line of questioning.

“And you do,” she answered, before taking another sip from the mug.

What was that supposed to even mean in the greater scheme of things?

“He’s my boss.” Megan knew about Poppy’s dating rules…even if they were more often used as a defense mechanism or a good, old-fashioned excuse.

“Temporarily,” Megan emphasized with a teasing smile. “Come on. How am I supposed to live vicariously through my single sister’s dating life if you don’t have a dating life?”

Her sister had been married too long and her brother-in-law had been on a ship too long. The Navy needed to bring Gary home, stat, so her sister could have her own love life without worrying about Poppy’s—or the obvious lack thereof.

Poppy zipped her jacket halfway against the deep evening fall chill. “Any word from Gary?”

“We Skyped this morning. I can’t wait until he’s back.” Megan’s smile made Poppy want to blush. Not everyone had a love like her sister and brother-in-law had found.

“And I’m not leaving until he is.” The sentiment was said to make Megan feel more secure, but it spoke to Poppy at a deeper level. She loved it here in Seattle, and it wasn’t just about being close to her nephews.

“Thanks, Poppy. The house feels a lot less empty with you here. The kids and I couldn’t do without you.”

Time to get the conversation back on track. Since Megan seemed to have all the answers tonight, maybe she’d know what to do about the bigger problem. “So, what are we going to do about the fact that Ryan’s kids don’t want me there?”

Megan took a sip of her tea and then gave her advice with a wave of her hand. “Just be you.”

Poppy sighed heavily. Megan made it seem so easy. Magical, even. But there was no fairy wand to fix Zoe’s mistrust or Zach’s skepticism. She had been herself today. She’d taken them to one of her favorite places, the Harvest Festival. She’d tried to cook them a special dinner. She’d planned for them to prepare it together, with farm-fresh ingredients.

All the effort that had gone into her first—and very long—day with the Larson kids had come from somewhere deep inside Poppy.

And still, just being her hadn’t been good enough.

“Zach, I didn’t do anything,” Zoe squealed down the hall.

Weren’t they supposed to be asleep?

It had to be after midnight. Ryan checked the time at the top of the electronic tablet in his hand. A whirlwind of chaos was thundering toward the master bedroom. So much for finishing up a few things before he turned out the lights himself.

“Yes, you did.” Whatever Zoe’s side of the story was, her brother didn’t believe a word of it.

Zoe reiterated her innocence. “No, I didn’t.”

“Dad!” Zach rushed toward the bed in his too-small blue T-shirt and gray flannel camo-patterned pajama pants.

Ryan briefly looked up, but kept tapping on the tablet’s touchscreen keyboard. “What’s the matter, buddy? Can’t sleep?”

“Zoe put a spider in my bed.” Zach’s dark blonde hair had been shocked into a serious case of bedhead.

Zoe ran in to defend herself. “Hey, that’s not what I said. I said, what if I did?”

“You said you’d put it in my bed.” Zach sounded close to tears, and that wasn’t going to help anyone get a good night’s sleep.

“No, I said maybe I might.” Zoe refused to give an inch. The hand on her hip seemed to match perfectly with her hot-pink-and-white polka-dot pajamas. How could pajamas enhance sass? Ryan felt a chill go through him as he once again considered the upcoming teenage years.

But more than that, Ryan wondered how this fight had even gotten started in the first place. Poppy indicated the kids had both gone to bed hours ago. “Guys, come on, come on. Come up here.”

Zach crawled up on the bed.

It reminded Ryan of when the kids were babies and they’d fall asleep on his chest. He missed those days and felt it deep in his heart. “Okay, there are absolutely no spiders—”

Zoe said, “Dad, Mrs. Brower said we all eat eight spiders in our sleep every year.”

What were they teaching in school these days?

Zach snuggled up closer, practically wrapping himself in a ball. Ryan hadn’t seen him lose it this much over a spider in months. “I don’t wanna eat a spider. I hate spiders. I don’t want to go to bed.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Zoe said. “I’m just saying what I heard. It’s a fact.”

“Thank you. Go to bed.”

Zoe sighed and rolled her eyes, clearly bothered by the fact that no one appreciated her scientific wisdom. But at least she went back to bed the first time he asked her to. Ryan decided to give thanks for small miracles.

He tucked Zach in the crook of his arm and gave his boy a kiss on the head as they both leaned back against the bank of steel-gray pillows piled high against the dark mahogany headboard. Why couldn’t anything be easy right now?

The school might be teaching Zoe some crazy things, but Ryan was the one who felt like he was failing.