LITMIR.BIZ

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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,

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