It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

In Memoriam (1)

The rest of dinner was strained, discomfort looming over them like city smog. Matthew picked at his pasta, declined dessert, talked incessantly, and continued apologizing to Edward for everything. Everything.

The moment Edward's truck pulled up to the entrance to the Henry Howard Forest Preserve, Matthew lingered. "I'm sorry," he whispered for the umpteenth time. "You don't know how sorry I am."

"Let me walk you back?" Edward asked, turning the car key, the truck shuddering quiet.

"No, I'm okay." He couldn't take up more of Edward's time. It felt too inconveniencing.

Edward was already out the door. He slammed it behind him.

Matthew clicked his teeth and got out, the air cool and whistling through the trees. The forest preserve was a wall of impenetrable darkness, reaching into the night sky like a great wide nuclear mushroom cloud. There were no birds. Not even a glimpse of the house could be seen.

The passenger door opened, and Matthew snapped back to the moment. He flushed, biting the inside of his cheek, and got out, making sure the seat belts were folded on the cushion.

Green eyes watched him before he closed the car door. Edward drew in a breath before sighing. He shook his head. "Sorry."

Matthew crossed his arms. "...no, it was mostly me."

"No, I just..." Edward grunted, pressing the small of his back against the fender. He licked his lips and scoffed, a forced smile on his lips. "I...probably only made things worse for you, bringing all that up, and all I wanted to do was, just, make you forget that you couldn't work." He shrugged. "I just...feel like I was taking up your time, and it...sucks."

He leaned against the passenger door, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Doesn't really help that I'm a mess."

"We're all messes, Mr. Robinson," Edward whispered.

The ease of how he said his surname made Matthew's skin crawl.

Edward met Matthew's eyes, regarding him for a moment, before glancing away. "You're not an exception. We're all messes. It's just in different ways." He licked his lips and straightened up. He laughed, an uneasy sound. "I just wanted to take you out, get to know you a little better. Not psychoanalyze you." Edward glanced to Matthew again. "I think what makes me really, really fucking sad is, just, it's so clear to me that you're...you're..." He hummed. "...so interesting, and driven and smart and cute and you...don't really like yourself."

Matthew swallowed. "Who said I don't like myself?"

A sad, crooked smile spread across Edward's lips. "You're smart, Mr. Robinson, but anyone really paying attention to you would see how much you don't like yourself."

He felt cold all over. Exposed. Matthew glanced away, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wish you'd be a little nicer to yourself." He sighed, pushing off the car. "Because you're really good conversation," he said, easy smile returning.

Matthew glanced away, groaning under his breath. "I'm still sorry you had to...deal with me, tonight." He exhaled, deflating. "I don't doubt you had other things planned."

Edward shook his head. "Nah. When I make plans, I don't plan anything else." He placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder, withdrawing it the moment he caught the man grimace at the touch. "Keep me updated on Lloyd, okay?" He stepped back and, turning on his heel, tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he rounded the front of the truck.

"Your truck needs a name."

He glanced back to Matthew.

"Petunia doesn't suit it, I think," Matthew whispered, tracing his fingertips over the gentle dents and grooves of the hood cover. "It might've been your dad's car, but it's yours now." He met the man's dark green eyes, almost black under the streetlights. "You talked, earlier, about your dad having sunk so much into it. Why don't you just get rid of it, be done with it?"

Edward stared. He placed a hand on the hood of the car. He swallowed, a contemplative look on his face, chased away only with a light chuckle, that easy smile returning. "...you're confusing, Mr. Robinson."

"...Matt."

He cocked a brow. "Matt?"

Matthew glanced down. "I'm confusing. You said it yourself."

His easy smile stayed. Grew at Matthew's response. Edward shook his head and opened the driver-side door. Once inside, he reached over the passenger window and handed Matthew his leftovers – a near-full meal. "Night, Mr. Robinson."

He took it, the warmth lingering. Stepping back, Matthew felt the rumble of the engine starting up under his feet. He opened his mouth and lingered. "...goodnight, Mr. Reyes."

Edward drove off down Willamette Street, his red-tinted taillights receding into the distance.

Matthew hopped the fence of the forest preserve and pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight as he took the trail up to the estate. He'd missed a call from his mother, Toby, and one from the house. Toby messaged a couple times asking how the not-date was, and "if he's a creep i'll come at him. u don't even know."

The forest was quiet, the air tasting of cedar and elm, of gentle decay and fresh water. Trees ached above him, the wind a symphony of whistling, of leaves dancing through the dark air. The distant traffic passed over the treetops like birds. For a moment, Matthew could not believe anyone would want to tear down these great woods, already so lost and relieved the further from Cherry Street he got.

Once the house presented itself, half-bathed in the muted golden exterior lights, dread seemed to sneak back into Matthew's gut. Lloyd's spot was still empty. The room that had once been his was still caked in scaffolding, inching ever closer to his room now. Every window was dark, except for the stretch of hallway in front of Yang's office to the ramp up to the second floor.

He very nearly walked straight to his room when he saw shadows move with such ferocity Matthew stopped to watch it. Glancing into the loggia off the carport, he saw Elliot darting in and out of the bedroom now used as storage, sliding boxes across the floor in puffs of dust. Nudging the doors open, he checked the time on his phone – well after nine.

Elliot had another box of things before he caught sight of Matthew standing at the loggia doors. Dropping everything as if his arms just gave out, he swung them open and announced in his nanny's face, "Where are the matches?"