It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

But Who Looks After The Fathers When Things Go Wrong? (4)

"How about embracing the sadness in you?"

"Do not be funny, Matthew."

He squatted down, trying to match eyes. "I'm serious. Take time off work and, just...be sad."

"Responsible adults are not sad, Mr. Robinson."

"Mr. Yang, everyone is sad. Just to different degrees."

Jun watched him. He wiped his eyes and turned away, pulling a cigar from his blazer pocket.

Matthew put his hand over Yang's, stopping him from lighting it. "Everyone is sad." He slipped the cigar from his employer's fingers. "Come with me."

"I cannot."

"Come with me, Jun. Be close to your kids. Take some time off work."

"There are things I need to do, Matthew."

"You could bond with Eli."

"Why would I bond with him? He already hates me."

"Sir, there's so mu – " But the sound of something drumming against the walls upstairs interrupted whatever sentiment Matthew was going to say, vibrating through the air. "Sir, you can work in the hotel. Please, jus – please come."

Jun stared through the falling, flecked debris from the ceiling before his sunken, tearstained eyes dropped. "...embrace the sadness within me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"First, you come with me." Matthew held out his hand. "Then you take some time off, or cut your hours down. Whichever you want. Then you cry. You scream and curse the world and wish things were different, and then when you're too tired to do that, you remember them. Every facet of who they are. Good and bad. You talk to people about that sadness." He paused, brushing himself down quickly of dust and plaster pieces. He wanted to add "You talk to Eli," but the pain felt too fresh to suggest it again. "But first, you have to come with me."

The older man visibly deflated. Matthew was certain he was going to collapse on the floor, but Yang held himself upright as best he could. He wiped his face, smearing tears over his dust-ridden face, and cleared his throat. "Help me pack?"

Matthew nodded.

"You do not have to if you do not – "

"Lead the way. Take everything you want to take. Everything else's going in storage."

Yang did not nod. He shook his head and re-plugged in his computer, whirring dangerously loudly. "Let me get some documents off this first. You can pack my navy, gray, and black suits if you want to start."

"I'll see you upstairs in five minutes. Okay?"

Yang nodded.

Much to Matthew's surprise, the older man was upstairs before the time was up, and the two packed amongst a medley of destruction. While Yang's room hadn't been touched, the upstairs hall was draped in plastic sheeting, drywall, and entire cabinets being removed to see how bad the walls were. Lights hung dead from the ceiling, and dust drifted through the air with such a vigor it made the light floating in from the windows dreamy. They packed in relative silence, and by the end of the hour, the two had vacated the house on Cherry Street, Yang in the passenger seat and Matthew driving.

Yang's sunken brown eyes were closed. His breaths were slow and steady. Matthew could almost taste the self-disappointment in them.

They arrived at the hotel. Yang's room was on the floor below but close to the elevator. It was clean, and certainly did not smell of children's socks. Matthew placed his suitcases on the bed and turned to watch Yang set up a company laptop on the desk.

"We have dinner at 6:30 tonight."

"...I hope you and Mr. Schroeder and Ms. Doctorow enjoy the meal with them."

Matthew deflated. "Come tonight."

"I have work."

"Try to come."

Mr. Yang opened his mouth, but said nothing. He gritted his teeth and, in a clear struggle to say something, uttered a deeply pathetic, "I'll try. Please do not be upset if I can't make it."

Matthew nodded. He left the man to his own devices and returned to his and the children's rooms just above.

Jun Yang did not appear for dinner.

He did appear the next morning for breakfast, looking worse for wear than ever before. Gone was the blazer. The immaculate suit was crumpled and the creases in the pants leg were gone. His hair was unkempt and had a cowlick on the side of his head. His face was grimy and he smelled of cigar smoke with such a force that Eli gagged when his uncle sat next to him.

"What happened to you?" Lilly asked. "You look like you were – "

"You smell awful," Eli interrupted, shuffling his seat to the other side of the table until Yang sat on his own. "How do you smell worse here than back at home?"

"Sorry," Jun whispered, picking at the single piece of toast he retrieved from the hotel's buffet, defeated.

Matthew moved his chair closer to his employer, leaving his plate behind, and staring. "Why are you here?"

He stared at his nanny for a long while, saying nothing. When his children began whispering, he realized what Matthew meant. Jun shook his head, wiped his face, and said with little hesitation, "I'm trying to be the parent I wish I had."