Page 12 of Christmas Nanny

I gave up the fight and turned over, blinking the sleepy fog from my brain. “What’s the matter, peanut?”

“Winston’s gone,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. She was all bedhead and pouty cheeks, barely awake herself. Which is why it made sense she’d gotten the name wrong.

“You mean Mr. Scallywag?” I stifled a yawn and pulled up to sit. “He’s fine. We put his bowl in the kitchen last night, remember? So he’d be close to the vase of pretty flowers.”

She shook her head hard, making her blonde curls bounce. “No, Winston. Not Mr. Scallywag. Mr. Scallywag is a fish.”

“Who’s Winston then?” I knew enough about kids to know I’d regret asking.

And Sadie didn’t disappoint.

“Winston’s my newt.”

I waited patiently for my sleep-addled synapses to catch up. “Your… newt?”

“Uh-huh.” She was close to tears again. “Winston.”

“Your newt, Winston. Okay.” I got up and scooped her into my arms. “Let’s figure this out while we’re getting ready for breakfast. What do you say?”

“No, we gotta find him now or he’ll die.” Cue the waterworks, with increased volume too.

Sadie buried her face in my neck and kicked against any form of comfort I tried. It wasn’t long before the hoopla brought Emma into my room.

“She’s always bringing bugs and stuff into the house even though our Mom and Dad say not to,” Emma said, happy to rat out her sister.

Sadie paused her crying long enough to yell, “He’s not a bug, he’s a newt!”

“He’s a bug, just like you,” Emma teased, and stuck out her tongue for good measure.

This sparked a new wave of bickering that kept getting louder the more I tried to diffuse the situation. It served as a cold reminder that whatever progress I thought we’d made was only on the surface. I was still a stranger to these kids. To this world.

“Isn’t it a little early to declare war on each other?”

I slackened my grip on Sadie and she went sliding down my body onto the floor. “Uh, hey.”

There was no way to prepare for what Ethan Cross looked like after just rolling out of bed on a Sunday morning. Hair all mussed up and his deep voice edged with gravel. Slept in. That’s what it was. Warm and soft, but also commanding. Even in an old, faded t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Nice pajamas.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile, and I swear it was the thing that got Sadie to finally stop crying. “Everything okay?”

“No,” Sadie hiccupped. “Winston’s gone.”

His brow furrowed. “Who’s Winston?”

“My newt,” she said, her bottom lip quivering as fresh tears threatened to fall.

Ethan blinked. Once. Twice. “Yourwhat?”

“Newt,” I repeated, afraid that Sadie would start up again if she were forced to rehash the whole story. “Apparently he’s gone missing.”

He stepped back, nodding over and over while scanning the floor. “There’s— There’s a lizard in the house?”

“It’s not exactly a lizard,” Emma offered, far too pleased with herself.

But Ethan was too busy studying the floor to care. “How do we happen to have a lizard in the house? Emma, you, uh, you knew about this?”

I hadn’t known him for very long, but I knew enough to recognize that tone in his voice wasn’t usual for him. Nothing about it fit the steady professional I’d met with the day before.

Sadie stomped her foot, hands on her hips. “He’s not a lizard! He’s a newt and he’s my best friend!”