It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

Smoke Break (2)

That lone bird found company, and, though its song stopped, replaced with a twittering conversation, overlapped with the distant sound of lapping water.

"May I ask you something?"

Matthew didn't answer.

"For someone with such an impassioned answer for why they wanted to be a teacher, you've had no issues with..." Mr. Yang paused.

He turned to him.

"...abandoning that drive."

Matthew glanced away for a moment, taking another drag of the cigarette. There was nothing about this interaction that he did not hate. "There weren't a lot of opportunities for me."

"Hm," Yang mused, tapping the cinders from the tip. "Your honors and degrees make you an extremely overqualified teaching applicant, so excuse me of I don't wholly believe you." The man shrugged. "You've expressed no interest in finding anything else, and despite your drive, you seemed to have...given up."

Matthew turned back to him.

The older man's eyes were still on him, yet the stare was softened by what he could describe as curiosity. "Why a nanny?"

He turned away again, taking in the largest inhale only for it to suffocate him. Something swelled in his stomach. Matthew could answer, but what difference would it make? Audrey would follow him everywhere. This job was a small blessing to him.

"Did you enjoy your time in school?" Yang asked, a pin-drop silence settling between the two.

"Nope. Had a real shit time."

Mr. Yang groaned. "I would scold you for that language, Mr. Robinson, reminding you that I'm still your employer – "

Matthew checked his phone before glancing back to him. "Again, the kids are in bed, which means I'm off the clock. So with all due respect, sir, shut up."

His eyes narrowed. "I was going to say, before you interrupted me, that I thought telling you would make little difference to you." Mr. Yang took another slow inhale. "Hm." He blew gray smoke through his nose.

He turned away again. "Sorry."

It seemed like eons before Yang replied, "Your poor educational experience checks out with the answer you gave me and your background checks. Continue."

Matt bit the inside of his cheek, frowning. His stomach told him not to answer. "I...being a teacher was this...thing, that I needed to do." He inhaled slowly, letting out the smoke through his teeth. "My parents, they didn't want me to be a teacher. They wanted me at their company. Their pride and joy. 'It's a family business,' they said, no matter how many times I told them I didn't want to." He rolled his eyes. "Ten hours behind a desk staring at a computer? Sounds exhilarating. No thanks."

"I am right here," Yang reminded.

"No disrespect, sir," he replied, "but my point still stands."

The older man said nothing. He sighed as he took another inhale.

Matthew turned away, his head tipping back against the smooth wall. "They thought I was wasting my time. 'You already have a job with us, what're you doing?'" The nicotine craving in him subsided, and he put out the smoldering cigarette under his foot. "I...as soon as I got into college, the walls I kept hitting vanished. I had the freedom to pursue teaching, but..." Nothing he did was good. Good enough, rather. Audrey happened, and it all seemed to spiral. Matthew twisted his foot over the crushed cigarette a little harder. "Even if I found a teaching job now, I..." He turned his gaze back to Yang. "A part of me can't stand the idea of some kid in a classroom suffering through the curriculum." Matthew sighed, closing his eyes. "I won't lie, but if something came my way, I...wouldn't disregard it."

Mr. Yang dropped his cigarette from his mouth, staring intently. "Hm," was his response, a slow, thoughtful sound filled with empty space.

Scratching the tip of his nose, Matthew sighed. "I have dishes I need to wash up, sir," he whispered, pushing himself off the carport wall. "I'll leave you to it."

The man nodded, taking in another slow drag of the cigarette.

Matthew dove his hands into his pockets for a piece of his gum. He offered one to him. "It's got teeth-whitening stuff in it. They don't like it when you smoke."

Yang's eyes narrowed. "You're one to talk."

"I don't have the stench of it around me at all hours."

Eyebrows rising in a skeptical expression, Mr. Yang took a piece. "...thank you."

Nodding, Matthew moved past the man, whispering, "Goodnight, sir."

He didn't answer.

Matthew washed the dishes, and retired for the night.