It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

They're Judging Carpetbags (2)

The knotted feeling in Matthew's stomach returned. Slow, steadying breaths kept his head from making the room spin. After receiving the proper paperwork, after asking the receptionist three times, Matthew sat back down and closed his eyes, gripping the arms of the chair, desperate for something steadying. He wanted his cigarettes, or even to pop a piece of his gum, but that wouldn't look too good for him right now.

A slam into the glass door moments later made him open his eyes.

Lilly, a hand over her nose, glanced up to a teacher unlocking the door; Elliot, a hand on his cousin's shoulder, moved her into the office. The two spoke over each other, the girl's dialogue defiant against the teacher insisting she shouldn't have run while Eli complained, wanting to know why this happened again.

"Matt!" Lilly shouted, trotting over. "I drawed another picture!"

"Drew, Lilliana," the teacher noted calmly.

Sniffing, she withdrew her hand from her nose, stained red with a little blood.

"If you ran harder, you could've broken it," Elliot told her, though his tone seemed to suggest a challenge.

"Eli, don't encourage."

"I'm just sayin' – "

"Go get some tissues, please," Matthew sighed. Placing his hands on the sides of her head, he tilted it down. "Deep breaths, and don't go crazy."

The boy brought some tissues.

"Keep your nose pinched, and breathe."

"Why'd they do this again?" Eli asked, plopping himself into the chair next to him. "I was working on my story for English. Wanna hear it?"

"Yes, but right now, Eli, I need to make sure – "

She started coughing.

Matthew held up a tissue to her open mouth.

Mr. Yang's muffled voice suddenly rose, catching the attention of the children.

"Daddy's here?" Lilly asked, her head down but eyes up at Matthew. She pivoted her body, staring at the door to Mr. Hanford's office. "Is he gonna finally fix it?"

Elliot cleared his throat. He swept his hand through the air, setting the scene. "It was a dark and foggy night – "

"You. I said later," Matthew said. He shook his head, sighing. "Got to make sure the bleeding stops."

"You don't have to," Eli commented.

"Shush," Matthew warned. "I hope he does, Lilly. I know your dad finds this...really annoying to do every time."

The office door opened, and Mr. Yang, black folder in hand, smiled, only for it to waver a moment later. "Lilliana, what happened?" he asked, kneeling. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"She ran into the door," Eli told him.

"Sweetheart, why?"

"Why're they keepbing us from goig hobe every day?" she asked, voice muffled by her hand pinched over her nose.

Mr. Yang took in a breath. His gaze moved to Matthew. "You have the paperwork."

Matthew nodded, handing it to him.

Slipping it into the black folder, he stood. "Take the children home. I have some work that needs addressing tonight at the office."

He stood, moving the children to the door of the entry hall. "Should I save dinner for you?"

Mr. Yang shook his head. "I'll be back late." He paused before asking, "Is there anything you believe I should know before you leave?"

Matthew clenched his jaw, his stomach still unsettled. He could tell him now about Audrey. In all likelihood, though, that had more of a chance to be a mistake than anything Mr. Hanford's told him. Something in him countered that; if he told him about Audrey now, he could sidestep any rumors and present the story factually, no matter how emotional the facts were.

"No, sir," he found himself saying. Something in him ached for punishment. He deserved it.

Nodding, Mr. Yang opened the door back to the entry hall. "I'll see you guys tomorrow for breakfast, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Lilliana whispered, hugging the man tightly around his neck.

Eli wrapped one arm around Mr. Yang's shoulders, his face turned away. "See ya."

"Have a good night, sir," Matthew whispered, withdrawing his keys from his pocket.

"You as well, Mr. Robinson," he answered, strolling back towards his BMW taxi.

Matthew swallowed thickly, his mind racing at any possible outcome, before asking, "How was school, guys?", if only to drown himself out.