It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

I Want People To Admire You, To Respect You (2)

The children came throughout the day, though only standing in the doorway. They couldn't stand the smell.

Toby pleaded him to hear his words. He snatched the cigarettes from his friend's hands, his eyes wide with disappointment and hurt.

Matthew said nothing, accepting nothing.

A day later, Matthew rose; at what time, he wasn't sure. His breath stunk of cigarettes and dry mouth. He fumbled over his feet towards the kitchen, where Audrey stretched and ran to start everyone's breakfast.

She turned her eyes to him, and kept cooking.

He sat down at the island.

Something sizzled in the pan.

"...how could you?"

Audrey turned back to him. She turned off the stove.

"How could you?" he asked a little louder.

She sighed, and leaned against the counter. "I'm going to take a page out of what you've been teaching Eli and Lilly and say something, okay?"

He didn't answer.

"I'm sorry. I have a lot to be sorry for, and if you're willing to listen, I....yeah." She waited for a response, yet the nearly 30-year-old remained silent. Audrey sighed again, turning back to the stove to continue cooking. "For the record, first off, Dad was driving when he wrecked your car. I wouldn't touch Lloyd with a five-foot stick unless I really wanted to hurt you." Her voice, somehow, trailed off.

"...how could you?" he asked again.

Her shoulders deflated. "Matt, you need to understand some things about you." Audrey turned back to him. "You...God, I had never met someone as impassioned as you before. You liked to say that I swept you off your feet, but I don't doubt the feeling was very mutual. You wanted better for everyone around you. You strived to be the best." Her blue eyes moved away for a moment, then back to him. "Therein lies a problem."

"...I thought you wanted to apologize," he spat wistfully.

She grunted. "You worked your ass off for everything, for everyone. Nothing you did was good enough. Like no one could appreciate your work unless you worked yourself to death. You, somehow, people-pleased like nobody's business, yet regarded everyone as a potential threat to you. Like..." She gestured to him. "You worked harder than anyone I've ever met, including Dad. And you never thought it was enough."

"It wasn't," he hissed.

"Always, you were hard on yourself. You started drafting your finals paper after the midterms."

"It needed to be right," he insisted.

Audrey slapped down the spatula. "You slaved over it for months. You wrote five drafts of it before you decided one was good enough to edit." She glanced towards the living room, eyes wide and seemingly waiting for Mr. Yang to interrupt.

"And that all excuses you being a bitch to me?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "That I'm sorry for. It was wrong, and I was growing more and more angry at how hard you were being on yourself, and how no matter what I did, you wouldn't fucking listen."

"No shit," he muttered. "Who'd want to listen to someone as cruel as you?"

"I only did it because I was treating you the exact same way you treated yourself. To push you a little. Get you to understand that pushing yourself that hard wasn't good."

"And you couldn't tell me?"

"I did, but – " She gestured to him. " – look at how that's worked out."

Matthew grit his teeth.

"How is it possible that you're not understanding what what is happening still? Not everything is about your work ethic. This's about you." She turned back to the stovetop, letting out a surprised "Ack!" before turning it off again, smoke gently billowing up against the ceiling. Sighing again, she added, "Look, I'm sorry for bad-mouthing you after we broke up; it was wrong and I was mad and if you think I'll throw my hands up and let it be, you're wrong." She stretched for a stack of plates, smacking in it burnt scrambled eggs. "But if you want to kill yourself for this job, go ahead. I'll leave, and you can go back to being two-faced prick teaching those kids about the importance of life balance while being a hypocritical asshole. You really want people to go around singing your praises, admire you, respect you, fine, but what difference does it make if you're not actually hearing them or believe them?"

He stood up. "I don't have to listen to this."

"You might have to eventually," she whispered.

Turning, he flipped her off. "Just leave. You've done enough damage already." Matthew turned back, finding himself face-to-face with Lilly.

Lilly stared up with wide, sad eyes, clutching her stuffed animal with two missed legs.

Matthew clenched his jaw.

Her steps light, even with the house slippers smacking against the floor, Lilly gently held her nanny's fingers. She said nothing, her hand wrapping around Matthew's fingers in the same regard as a frightened child unable to muster the strength to speak. Lilly stood beside him, keeping her eyes down; she swallowed.

Something choked him.

Lilly let go and continued on to the kitchen.

Matthew found himself back in his room, the space radiating that same coldness that not even a blistering summer heat could melt. He leaned back on the bed, it groaning underneath his weight.

His phone buzzed again. Missed calls and messages from his parents, Liza, Toby. One from an unknown number, which Matthew only found the strength to look at out of sheer curiosity.

hidey ho, Matt! I don't know if you remember me, it's eddie (Edward) (Reyes) (we met in the grocery store when you almost stabbed me) (jk) but I wanted to thank you again for helping out my friend - she said your answers were some of the best-worded ones she's ever gotten! it should be up and published some time in the coming week, and, per your request, your name has been redacted.

The following texts came several hours later:

Look, I know it's been a while, and we don't really know each other, but I read over your answers too (and I get this might be weird) but I really loved the way you wrote them so I was wondering if you were free for dinner at some point to talk. Not really about childcare in the contemporary age, but yeah. How about it?

also feel free to not text back if you're not into that. Just wanted to see if you were free :) have a good one!

Matthew tossed the phone to the side, groaning; it clattered over the bedside table then onto the concrete floor. Too exhausted to feel the blood rushing to his ears and too disappointed in himself to reply back, he inhaled the lingering dust from the pillow cover.

After what seemed like eons, Matthew sat up. Reaching for a soiled shirt, he threw open the doors to his room, a rush of autumn air flooding in. He started dusting.