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
