It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

We're Living In A Madhouse On Cherry Street (1)

Yang's return came and went. Another week started. There were no messages.

Toby and Liza started drifting in and out of the house, regardless if they were invited or not. They participated – Toby started growing a homeopathic garden in the conservatory with Eli, who argued until the sun set about which seeds were viable to grow and which were most definitely illegal. Liza took up Yang's office to review paperwork, but found both Lilly and Elliot floating in and out to ask her questions about how to get away with murder, if this new island on a treasure map looked right, why she was dressed like a plague doctor's secretary (which Liza took slight offense to), and if they could tell them about any interesting clients she got off Death Row.

Despite their treating the house like a revolving door, they stayed for meals. The house, so sickly cold at times, glowed with a warmth that surprised Matthew, Audrey included. Their meals grew intimate, quiet and comfortable as Lilly regaled stories from school, as Eli discussed what he and Matthew had done. The altar to Eli's parents stayed up in the empty room. The living room, stripped of its awful, stained carpet, exposed the deep red concrete floors prevalent throughout the rest of the house. Details of its construction became art installations for display. A piece of the drywall from the living room ceiling gave way one night, revealing the intricate wood framing of the mushroom-top shaped roof. The children cooed at it. Matthew took pictures and sent it to the Frank Henry Sullivan Foundation as means for their newsletter.

Another week passed. Yang's return drifted to the back of everyone's minds. There were no messages.

Anxious for a response, Matthew tried reaching out to Yang by any means necessary. Text, call, voicemail, email, leaving word with his secretary. He just knew this would all explode in his face.

And it did.

Two and a half weeks after Yang had climbed into the back of the rented car, he arrived home. The children were with Matthew in the makeshift kitchen, watching him cook. Lilly had just returned from school. Audrey was surveying the new section of scaffolding over the bedroom wing of the house, and Toby was strolling through the forest preserve cataloging what indigenous plants could be used for the landscaping around the house.

And his voice shook the rafters – a harbinger of death.

"Mr. Robinson."

Matthew shuddered, the pan in his hand clattering against the stovetop grates. "Oh, Gods," he whispered under his breath.

"Let me at 'im," Elliot said, already getting off the chair and rolling up his long-sleeve t-shirt. As if the almost 12-year-old could seriously take his 40-year-old uncle. "It's his fault for not – "

He placed a hand on Eli's shoulder. "It is," Matthew sighed, "but he asked for me."

"We're not gonna let you get fired, Matt," Lilly announced, standing on her chair. "We won't!"

Matthew snapped his fingers. "Sit, lady. These floors are concrete and you are too young to crack your head open yet."

"Yet?" Eli asked.

"Yet. Shush." Matthew straightened himself out and drew in a breath. "I'll keep the door open, okay?"

They nodded. They stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for their cue to follow.

Crossing through the breakfast room, hands folded behind his back, Matthew tried to steady his stomach. Audrey stood with him by the entrance, saying something but he could not hear or see it over the absolute fury Mr. Yang seemed to radiate.

Glowering, the rings under his hard brown eyes very prominent, Mr. Yang snapped his fingers. "Office. Now."

Audrey glanced to the nanny. "Matt – "

"Ms. Culpepper, please tend to the children," he said, straightening out his immaculate suit. "I have words to say to Mr. Robinson and I am not interested in any of his tactics to put us on good behavior."

Matthew's blood ran cold.

"Sir – "

"Do you understand, or are you more interested in the potential media circus surrounding your father assaulting one of my employees? Shall I also add 'slander and defamation' to the list, as well? I'd be more than happy to do that."

"It's okay, Audrey," he whispered, never taking his eyes from his employer. His being shook with rage. "I'll leave the door – "

"No, Mr. Robinson. This is a conversation between us, and us alone."

The conversation ended. Audrey trotted off through the dining room towards the kitchen, while Matt trailed Yang's footsteps into his office. Once in, Yang locked the door.

Matthew unlocked it.

"No," Mr. Yang snapped, locking it again and standing in front. The man glowered down, stare shadowed.

He tensed, ready to pounce.

"It is my understanding," he started slowly, "that Elliot has been withdrawn from Brookfell Academy?"