So this came about due to a very long, late night conversation my friend Keiliy and I had outside of my house over the summer, where we discussed what Mary Poppins relationship would be with a number of Disney characters. Lilo in particular stuck with me. And here we are.
As always, I own nothing.
By the time Mary Poppins lands in front of the little raised house, she has already removed her coat and what had once been a crisp bowtie now hangs limply, dangling from her neck. She's unaccustomed to this climate—London is never so hot and sticky.
She decides to discard the fabric for the bow completely. It's best to give a clean first impression. She raises her hand and raps on the door.
A girl, only around twenty, opens the door. Her eyes are red and puffy, but her clothes are fairly neat and she's pretty. "Can I help you?" she asks, staring at Mary with tired eyes.
"You are Nani Pelekai, I presume?"
"Yes…" Nani says skeptically.
"I'm Mary Poppins. May I come in?"
"Uh, yes…?" Nani steps aside slowly, looking at Mary's carpetbag and umbrella.
"I was a friend of your parents." It's a lie, of course, but she needs a way to get into the house.
Nani studies her. "They never mentioned a…"
"Mary Poppins," she fills in perfunctorily. "I knew your mother from school. Now, if you'll direct me to a place I might store my bag, I'll see your little sister and begin work in the kitchen."
"Kitchen?" Nani repeats faintly.
"For your guests tomorrow," Mary says gently. "You're going to need to feed them."
"I didn't even think…" the Hawaiian girl realizes.
"That's why I'm here. Now why don't go you check on your little sister?"
Nani does as suggested and Mary ties an apron around her waist, looking around the messy house. Yes, these girls definitely need her aid.
0ooo0
"Who are you?"
Mary turns when she hears the suspicious little voice. "I'm Mary Poppins. You must be Lilo."
"I need peanut butter," Lilo announces. Mary frowns, but lets the impoliteness slide; after all, the little girl has just lost both of her parents.
"Would you like a sandwich?"
"It's for Pudge. I have to make Pudge a sandwich."
"And Pudge is?"
"A fish. Do we have peanut butter?"
Mary has long since learned to not question the whims of small children. Things that might not make a lick of sense to her are perfectly logical and reasonable to them. Trying to understand will just cause an unnecessary headache. She snaps and the peanut butter flies from the cabinet. The little girl looks slightly impressed and Mary winks.
"Are you a mutant? Are you from another planet? That'd be cool."
Mary laughs. "Not quite anything so interesting as that. I'm from London in England."
Lilo's face falls. "Oh. An alien would be cooler."
"Well, I'm sorry to have disappointed you, but there's nothing for it, I'm afraid."
"Can I have a knife?"
"Here, let me help you with that," Mary offers, beginning to spread the peanut butter on an end piece of the loaf.
"Noooooo!" Lilo begins to whine. Mary whips around and glares at the five-year-old. She will not tolerate such impolite behavior! "You're doing it wrong," Lilo explains. "Pudge doesn't like crust! You can't just give him a crusty piece of bread! He won't like it and then he'll be mad!"
Mary kneels, peering at the girl with that special gaze of hers, the one that makes children feel as if she's treating them as an equal, but an equal she expects to behave. "Lilo, why is this so important to you?" she asks, careful not to belittle the little girl's feelings.
"Pudge controls the weather."
Knowing what she does, Mary feels her heart break a little. "Oh, I see. Well then, we certainly mustn't disappoint him," she says. "Come help me make the sandwich. How does Pudge feel about jam?"
Once the sandwich is made, Mary walks down to the beach with Lilo and watches carefully as the little girl delivers it. She can see Lilo is already a very strong swimmer, but Mary isn't one to leave things to chance. Once she's out of the water, Mary kneels down and wraps her up in a towel, beginning to dry her off gently.
"My mom said that believing in something is better than believing in nothing," Lilo says suddenly. "That's why we brung Pudge sandwiches."
"Brought," Mary corrects, not looking up from her task. "And your mother was a very wise woman."
"But I don't believe in anything but Pudge. Not even heaven."
"Well, believing in Pudge is a good start," she replies. "And well begun is half done. Perhaps one day you can start believing in something beyond Pudge."
Lilo looks at her like she might be onto something, but then shakes her head and runs back towards the house. Mary sighs, gathers up the towel that Lilo's dropped and follows.
