phone rang before he had a chance to dig that hole and dive face-first into it. Poppy did not need to know the truth of Zach and Zoe’s feelings about Barbara Lewis, the last nanny. He still remained grateful that the 911 dispatcher on duty that evening had a sense of humor. The nanny didn’t, but under the circumstances, that was understandable.
He saw the call was from Jean, his assistant. Ryan didn’t even have to hear any of her words to know he was going to be late for his next meeting. “I’m on my way.”
Ryan didn’t really want to just throw Poppy to the wolves—kids, he corrected himself—but nannying was her job. And he had more than enough of his own job to worry about at this moment. Surely, Poppy would be fine with the kids. They just needed to get used to her. He slid his phone into his left pocket. “Okay, we good to go?”
“Yeah. All nannied up!” Once again, Poppy reminded him of a cheerleader. Maybe this would be okay. His kids needed some cheer in their lives.
Honestly, it would have to be okay. He didn’t have any time between now and the presentation at the end of the month to solve another nanny or child crisis. He just needed to get to the office, hope for the best, and let Poppy and the kids sort out Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things.
“Great. I don’t usually work Sundays but this is a crazy week, so…” Ryan opened the hall closet and grabbed out his briefcase and a light jacket. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. Here are these…” He handed Poppy a set of house keys and a credit card to use for activities.
Then, he looked around and lowered his voice. He might be leaving the Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things to Poppy and the kids, but he did know one covert weapon that would definitely help Poppy in the process. “And the secret password is ‘pumpkinhead’…for now.”
“Got it,” Poppy said, with an obviously false confidence which confirmed to his ears that she had no idea what he was talking about. It didn’t matter—he had to go. He’d just have to let her figure it out.
“Have a good one.” Ryan hoped that his sentiment wasn’t just a false hope.
She took off her jacket and tossed it over the top of the newel post. “Yeah, you too.”
“Thanks.” Ryan took off for the front door before the kids could realize he was leaving. Once again, his phone started to ring. He reached in his pocket and started to answer out of habit without even thinking about who was on the other end of the line or what he was saying. “Hello…yes, this is—”
He just needed to make it to the end of the month. Right now, everything was a blur.
Well, everything except the twinkle in Poppy Summerall’s blue eyes when she smiled.
Ryan could see that in his mind’s eye very clearly.
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.”
