Mr. Yang sat behind his desk, blazer absent and tie loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up. His hair, always immaculately combed and pristine, lay disheveled across his head, greasy strands dangling across his forehead. More pronounced, as well, were the bags under his piercing brown eyes. The room reeked of cigar smoke, piles of ash lying in the divots on the concrete floor.
Matthew almost didn't recognize him.
"Lilliana, why is he here?" the older man asked. "Please leave, Mr. Robinson. My children need to discuss – "
"No, he's here because we asked him to," Elliot said.
"No, Lilly told me you needed me," Matthew clarified.
"I did," he insisted. He raised a hand to his uncle, staring.
Mr. Yang wiped his face. "So I take it you have no idea what's going on?"
Matthew shook his head.
"Matt, sit down." Lilly patted the back of one of the angled wooden chairs.
He stayed standing.
She grunted. "Fine." The girl to face her father fully, her hands on her hips. "Say you're sorry to Matt. Then us, especially Eli."
Her father blinked. "What?"
"You weren't nice to Matt or Eli, and you don't get to be a mean-faced fartsicle because we live here."
"Lilliana – "
"Be quiet, and let me talk."
"Watch your tone, young lady."
Elliot stepped forward. "What's wrong with me reading about spells 'nd stuff?"
Mr. Yang opened his mouth.
"Say you're sorry."
"Elliot, I have nothing to be sorry about," he replied, his tone calm.
The boy threw his hands down on the desk. "Why don't you like Matt?"
Groaning, Mr. Yang pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "I see his theatrics have rubbed off on you."
Matthew shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Why don't you like him?" Lilly asked, stepping beside her cousin. "It's obvious you don't."
"I don't not like him," he said.
"Daddy."
"He's not gonna apologize, Lilly," Elliot said, turning to his cousin. "He hasn't liked any of our nannies up to this point."
Mr. Yang's eyes narrowed.
Lilly stomped her feet. "Daddy."
"That's quite an accusation, Elliot, but I assure you, I've liked the nannies that have come before Mr. Robinson," the man explained.
"That's a lie," Elliot spat. "You're doing the same thing to Matt that you did to everyone else."
"You didn't like Abby," Lilly said.
"Abigail couldn't cook."
"She was here for, like, a week," Elliot told him. "And she was just learning when you fired her."
He crossed his arms. "I'm not going to justify – "
"That checks out," Matthew muttered, rolling his eyes.
"You didn't like Janelle," the girl continued without skipping a beat.
Her father sat forward. "She drove an SUV, how could I not fire her? She didn't understand why it was an issue."
"She had other three kids to take care of, too," Lilly told him.
The older man's brows furrowed. "She did?"
"Oh my God," Matthew whispered, rubbing his temples.
Elliot groaned. "What about, what about Stacey?"
"She wouldn't do any of the housework I needed her to."
"Needed her to, or told her to?" Matthew asked.
"Watch your tone, Mr. Robinson."
"You're a bully," Lilliana snapped. "You're a big, fat, mean bully, Daddy."
Mr. Yang opened his mouth again.
"What's so wrong with Matt that you already don't like him?"
Her father scoffed. "Have you seen how he talks to me? It's completely inappropriate."
"You talk to him like he's your slave," Eli noted.
"I hired him."
"So what? Like, teachers don't get the right to talk to us like that!" Lilly said.
"Teachers are different," Mr. Yang insisted.
"How?" Eli asked. "So it's just okay to talk to people like that?"
"I didn't say that," Yang snapped.
"You're acting like, like when Danny and I fight in school."
"You're acting like when me and Emily fight, too!"
"We're acting like the children?" Yang asked, his tone incredulous.
"Yes," they both answered.
"We're not children."
"Then say you're sorry for threatening to fire Matt!"
Mr. Yang said nothing. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.