you our aunt now?” Emmie asked. “We have lots and lots of aunties.”
Yeah, on the Maddox side, Poppy knew that. The little one had just put the word “aunt” there before her name without prompting.
“You don’t have to call me aunt, honey,” Poppy said. “I’m your Aunt Charley’s friend.”
“And Uncle Turner’s,” Emmie said, running the brush all the way down the length of her hair. “You live here with Uncle Turner.”
“Well, I… I don’t live with him… I live in the building.”
“Uncle Turner has lots of buildings,” Emmie said.
From a seven-year-old’s point of view, that was probably true.
“He’s good at his job,” Poppy said, stopping short of saying he enjoyed it, even though there had to be some enjoyment in it for him. “He’s very good at it.”
“I’m gonna have my own building,” Noah said, rolling onto his back to join the conversation. “A big building all for me.”
It was a thrill to witness how Turner inspired the youngsters. She didn’t know what their father did, but from what Poppy knew of Noah, he definitely idolized his uncle. Turner was just too busy to notice.
“I’m gonna get my own building first,” Emmie barked at her brother over Poppy’s shoulder.
“Okay,” Poppy said, reaching around for the little one’s hand. “There are enough buildings for everyone.”
The front door opened and for a second, she panicked about what she’d do if Kev had returned. But it was Turner who came marching into the room. When he spotted her, he stopped. After glancing at the kids, he frowned at her in question.
“Uncle Turner,” Noah said, scrambling up to his feet. “I want a building.”
“You can have this one,” Turner replied as the little guy rushed over to him.
Turner scooped him up and ruffled his hair while Noah wrapped his two little arms around Turner’s neck. Like he’d done it a zillion times, Turner swooped the boy around to his back, supporting his legs while Noah clung onto his neck.
“Faye around?” Turner asked.
“Momma went shopping,” Emmie exclaimed. “I want Poppy to be our aunt now.”
Turner’s attention flicked to her just as her eyes widened. “I didn’t… I was saying I’m only Aunt Charley’s friend. Emmie has enough aunties.”
“I want you to be our aunt,” Emmie said, still brushing. “Then maybe I can have hair like you.”
That put a smile on Poppy’s face. Did Emmie think genetics altered depending on who came into their lives? She was too cute.
Poppy returned to Ashlee’s hair. “When you get big enough, and your mommy says it’s okay, I’ll take you to my special hair clinic.”
“You have a special hair clinic?” Emmie said in awe-struck wonder, like she had the first clue what Poppy was talking about. “I want a special hair clinic… Will they make my hair pink like Aunt Charley’s?”
“They sure will,” Poppy said, putting the tie in the end of Ashlee’s hair.
Emmie gasped. “We could all get pink hair!” Poppy felt the little one’s fingers in her locks, stroking and picking them up. “Your color hair is nice too.”
“I haven’t got color in my hair,” Poppy said, taking one of the clasps from Ashlee to put it in her hair. “It’s natural right now… I used to have blonde hair.”
“Like Mommy’s?”
“Lighter than that,” Poppy said, putting another clasp in the other side of Ashlee’s hair. “There.” She spun the little one around to smile at her. “You’re so beautiful.”
Ashlee surprised her by grabbing her face to plant a wet kiss on her lips. She didn’t stop there either, she actually pushed Poppy back to climb up onto her lap.
“Guys, watch the movie a second,” Turner said, approaching to lift Noah over the back of the couch to put him on the seat.
“I have to do Auntie Poppy’s hair,” Emmie said, taking her duty seriously. “She’s looking after us.”
“We’ll just be a second,” Turner said. “Adult talk.”
Except Poppy didn’t want to give up Ashlee’s hug. The apologetic glance she cast to Turner seemed to convey that because he exhaled and came around the couch to lift the little one away from her.
Ashlee objected, almost as much as Poppy did. “No, don’t—”
“One second,” Turner said, putting Ashlee on the couch next to Noah, then taking Poppy’s hand to pull her onto her feet.
With little choice, she let Turner pull her across the room. Poppy kept her focus on the kids for as long as possible. She only tore it away when he closed a door on her view. Though she hadn’t really thought about it, the adults usually went