It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

The Best View in the World, Eh? (4)

The fourth day without the children was another blur, this time of rain and time. Much of the remaining snow was washed away, leaving patches of white and slush scattered in places. Once the rain let up, the sun came out, and the sky cleared up completely.

He found himself standing alone on the terrace off the living room, bundled in his jacket while everyone was inside cooking dinner. The view from the terrace stretched for centuries, downward and southeast towards Allisport. He couldn't see the city, but the houses that dotted the world in front of him were like a reverse night sky. A clear moon moved overhead into the sky, still very clear and the wind cold and biting. The house was absolutely perfect from its perch, like a castle set upon a mountaintop. Below, the earth sloped downward into the darkness.

Matthew wanted a cigarette. Something in him was bored and itched for it. He couldn't remember the last time he sucked one down, felt the coldness in his fingers. Everything said Matthew should've sank into the habit after it happened, but he abstained. It reminded him of Jun's cigar smoke, and the idea was so foul to him that he told Toby to get rid of them and never let him buy another pack again. He wasn't sure where his nicotine gum was, either.

He held himself a little tighter against the rush of air around him. Somewhere behind him, the wind whistled against the great overhanging roof of the house, between the scaffolding and around the playroom's half-circled and long ovaled pavilion.

The moment a door opened, Matthew glanced around. Jun stepped out from his office, a cigar in his hands. He contemplated moving back inside, but couldn't find the will to bring himself to. He just held himself a little tighter.

"...good evening."

Matthew grumbled his response.

"...do you mind if I – "

"I don't care."

Jun said nothing, his feet firmly planted on the concrete steps of the terrace. Matthew could hear the singe of the cigar as Jun inhaled, letting out a long, carefree-sounding breath into the wind. It whipped back into his face, away from Matt. "...how have things been?" the older man started, his words wobbling through the night air, uncertainty laced through them. Seconds ticked by before he whispered, "That was...a silly question. I apologize."

"What do you want?"

"It's a nice view, isn't it?"

"...sure."

"That's half the reason why I bought this house." Jun took a step – a single step – and did not tempt fate any further. "Best view in the world."

"What do you want, Jun?"

He drew in a breath before his composure fell apart further. "Do you ever have that feeling of, existential dread?" he asked, taking a slow drag from his cigar. Smoke billowed from his mouth.

"...always. Why?" Matt answered. "Not like, like that...like...I don't know, just..." Shaking his head, he sighed and turned away. "Never mind. I, just...really thought my life would be different than this." He didn't know why he was bothering.

Jun stared. "Like what?"

"I was supposed to be changing curriculums behind the administration's back so it would always be interesting and diverse, and challenging, and, and adaptable, to the kids. Protesting at PTA meetings because testing doesn't equate to learning. Mixing Montessori and Waldorf and...even fucking Sudbury." He paused, stunned by how quiet his voice had become. Angry that his voice had become quiet at all.

Jun huffed. The sound was too lighthearted for Matt not to be irritated by it.

"Who cares?" Matthew took in a breath.

"...what?"

"Nothing, just like everything you say."

Jun sighed, frowning. "Matt, please. Please know I'm sorry."

"No."

He hummed, wobbling and uncertain and so desperately dripping with nerves. He brought the cigar to his lips and took in a breath.

Matthew wanted to go back inside. He wanted to suffer the indignity of the light scrutiny of his friends wanting to know he was okay, wanting to see some kind of progress towards being better. He couldn't give them that kind of satisfaction. He was too scared to give that satisfaction.

"May I ask you something?"

"No."

Jun ignored it. "How do you...wrestle with the idea that you've done nothing with your life?"

"I don't. I suffer."

"Matt."

"That wasn't a joke," he snapped, turning his eyes towards his employer. "I don't. I suffer."

Jun looked away. "What kind of psychological ramifications are there to that?"

"Shut up."

"Matt, I'm trying to talk to you."

"Good talk."

"Matthew, I'm serious."

"Doesn't seem like it." He could hear Jun gritting his teeth. He slightly reveled in it even if it made him tired.

He sighed. "Fine. Fine. Where do you want me to start?"

"Anywhere."

"Matt."

He turned to Jun. "Why is Eli here if you don't like him?"

"It's complicated," Jun started. "It's a long story and I'm..." He huffed, smirked. "I don't know why I'm scared you will not understand. You try with the kids, you tried with me." An obvious waver entered his voice. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't - don't do this," Matthew snapped. "Don't. You don't - you don't get the right to do this, Jun. You don't get to throw up your hands and admit defeat after everything you've done." His hands were fists, and he could feel a lump of self-pitying sadness roll up his throat. Matthew was coming closer, anger in his eyes. "You have everything. You have this house. You have two amazing, weird kids, and you neglect the shit out of them. For what? What's the endgame here, Jun? Why do you want to be so fucking miserable?"

Jun stepped back. His sunken brown eyes were wide and glistening, like a scolded child.

Matthew hissed through his teeth, turning away. "Don't fucking look at me and tell me you've accomplished nothing, Jun. Because you have."

He said nothing.

"You have a great job. A great family. A great house. Fuck you."

"I am a failure."

"I guess you didn't hear me. Fuck. You."

"Don't you think I'm not aware of everything you say? That I shouldn't be grateful for everything I have? That this, this seed of selfishness inside me doesn't gnaw me away because I didn't listen to people, because I thought I was doing right? I live with my consequences, Mr. Robinson. I live and breathe them every day of my life."

"Then what do you want, Jun? What are you trying to do with your life?"

"I'm just trying to do as much as I can without hurting anyone more than I have."

"Well, newsflash: it isn't working."

"I kn - " Jun turned away, snapping his jaw shut.

Something about the display made Matthew's stomach wiggle with satisfaction, disappointment. He wanted more, something deeper, more substantial.

"Tell me. Please, for the love of God, tell me to tell you."