Almost an hour later, the kitchen dusted in a fine layer of almost-expired pancake mix, vegetable oil, butter, and eggshells, the children finally had their slightly-charred breakfast; they complained the whole way through eating even as Matthew continued finding more expired food hidden in cupboards and tucked in corners accompanying dry rot, rat droppings, and mold.
Stealing a moment in the pantry, Matthew wiped his moist brow and steadied his breath; he promptly screamed into his hands. Popping a piece of gum to settle his empty stomach, he pushed himself from the shelving, which groaned worryingly, and returned to the children.
The children's picnic outing after that was more tolerable. After an hour of following the creek to a sufficiently shady spot away from people and walking paths, Lilliana and Elliot threw open the basket, filled with juice boxes and sugar-free fruit snacks, and stuffed themselves in place of an actual lunch. Afterward, the boy waded through the pebbled and muddy creek bed in search of toads, instead finding smooth stones and weeds he could use for other potions. Lilly watched from her and Matthew's spot under a large oak tree, soaking in the sun, peppering her nanny with questions about yetis and foxes.
Several birds circled Elliot while he waded in the waters.
As one hopped towards the blanket, dissuaded by Matthew trying to shoo it away, Eli called to it: "Hey, no blanket!" It promptly bounced back to the edge of the creek.
The first nail in the coffin was Lilliana breaking down over a lost fruit snack pack.
Matthew never had the chance to tell her that he was starving and took it for himself.
The second nail presented itself two seconds later, when Elliot called out, throwing fistfuls of newfound stones and weeds at Matthew for safekeeping. Had he not ducked, Elliot would've broken his nanny's nose and left bruising all over his face.
Four missed calls from Mr. Yang presented the final nail.
Once the children's hands and feet washed, Matthew headed for the office.
"Sir?" he knocked.
"Come in." He only had one foot in the door before Mr. Yang leveled his complaint – "I'd like to remind you that there should be extras for every meal set aside for myself, should I need something."
Matthew blinked, taking in a slow breath of the stale cigar smell that lingered. "You specified dinners only, sir," he replied, nerves sitting heavy in his stomach.
Yang's brown eyes met his, glaring. "Do I actually need to specify something like that to you? Is there any other part of the job you need elaborating on?"
He frowned, pressing the door closed behind him. "How thin are these walls?" he ventured.
"What does that matter?"
"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."
"No." The older man returned to work. "I expect better from you, Mr. Robinson."
Swinging his feet, Matthew stepped forward. He gritted his teeth. "Sir, I'd advise you, right now, that if you continue speaking to me like this, you'll be setting a terrible example for your children."
Mr. Yang raised his eyes, putting his pen to the side. "Excuse me?"
"What kind of message does it send to them, their father slash uncle verbally berating someone in charge of taking care of them?"
"Watch your tone, Mr. Robinson," he hissed, standing. "I am still your employer –"
"I am very aware of that, sir, but does that excuse unintentionally teaching them that making mistakes is unforgivable?"
"I should not have to explain myself –"
"They are in your care. I doubt they'd care if you explained yourself."
"Watch your tone, Mr. Robinson."
Matthew grimaced, staring back.
"I don't –"
"Tell me, how would you explain to them that my not knowing something stipulated by you was grounds for firing me?"
"Excuse –"
"Or are they just so desensitized by nannies basically using the house as a revolving door they not only wouldn't care but also would shake their heads and go back to how things were?"
The man's glare burned holes into Matthew's forehead.
"I am beginning to understand why you've gone through so many nannies, sir." He swallowed and steadied his breath. "Should you like to retain me further and continue your marvelous trend of not finding anyone, but I certainly am not at that point yet, I'd recommend you take my words into consideration." Matthew swung his hands behind his back. "I'm a professional, sir, and I take my job seriously. So please don't chastise me like a child when you don't have the time to do that to your own children properly."
Mr. Yang's eyes widened. The faint sound of stilted breath billowed from his mouth.
Matthew kept his stare steady. The nerves of his stomach settled, akin to the end of a failing job interview.
"Get out."
He promptly bowed, cursed himself under his breath, and left.
After a brief snack to bridge the period between lunch and dinner, the three returned to cleaning the playroom. Elliot enthusiastically scooped up every piece of dead, mold-ridden, or rodent-eaten thing he could get his hands on. Lilly, humming a tune neither recognized, swept up everything in sight, dancing with the broom and knocking over several bins.
Matthew stole another moment in the pantry when the floor seemed to wobble underneath him; he hadn't thought about how badly he needed to pee, or how badly he just wanted to sit down. Breath still unsteady, he pushed himself from the shelves, something splintering underneath the surface, and returned to the children.
By four, Matthew turned to dinner.
His knees, back, and arms sore, Matthew planned for pizza, which burned to a crisp. That was the least of his concerns, anyway, considering the middle sank through the shelf grates, creating a hard, blackened molten mess of sauce and cheese. After discovering it, the oven turned off. Sighing, he threw together microwaveable pizzas for them and cereal for himself, which did little to settle his angry, empty stomach.
While waiting, he'd searched the kitchen for some kind of recipe, cookbooks, or anything that would help him. Somehow he found was dust, mold, and more rotted food.
Knocking on the office door after the food was served, he called, "Sir, dinner is ready."
"I have work, Mr. Robinson."
"You told me to come – "
"I have work."
Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll let your children know." He stormed back to the kitchen.
YOU ARE READING
It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins
General Fiction[A Slice-Of-Life LGBTQ+ Story about Found Family] Matthew Robinson's career as a teacher seemed to have stalled, yet when the winds in the East suddenly lands him in the employ as a nanny, Matthew realizes he's probably signed up for more than he ba...
