It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

The Best View in the World, Eh? (3)

He stared, arms uncrossing themselves. "...I don't know."

"What does Yang have to do to make things right?"

"I don't know. I – " He grunted, covering his face. "God, Ed, it's just all so...muddled in my head, and I don't...know."

"Ed?"

"Not right now." He couldn't move his hands. Matthew would've exposed himself to such a degree and made the situation all the more worse. Maybe not for Edward but most certainly for himself.

"Sorry, sorry." Even then, Matt could tell Edward's face was flushed, his words were light and giddy. "So you don't know?"

"No."

"...maybe you should figure that out, first."

His arms fell back against his sides, and Matthew sighed. "Usually, I know what to do. I know how to keep moving forward and...get out of it. But now it's – "

"It's you in it?"

Matthew crossed his arms. "...sure." He met Edward's green eyes. "Usually is me, though. Just...different now. It involves me too much now, I guess. I can't look away too easily and...get away."

Edward opened his mouth but said nothing. He glanced back at the breakfast table. "Hungry?"

"Not really. Mostly just...need air." He turned and started heading towards the front door, only stopping when Edward grabbed his hand.

The look on his face was desperate, wide, needing him to understand. Edward blinked and let go. "Sorry," he stammered. "I just...feel bad. Wish I could do more. I – yeah. I like my people happy."

"Not everyone can be 'happy'."

Edward nodded. "I know. But I'm in control of myself and myself alone, and I'd rather try than not."

Smirking, Matthew approached and patted his arm. "I get it. I do, but there isn't an easy way to fix things with this without...without hurting people." He couldn't stand that idea – Lilly and Eli yelling at him to stay as he walked to a now-functioning Lloyd, Jun standing at the front door. The children held his legs, every step scattering gravel across the front drive. Eli was screaming. Lilly was begging. And Jun stood there, watching.

Drawing in a breath, Matthew couldn't stand the stagnant air of the house anymore. He whispered something akin to a departure and beelined for the front door. He slipped on his shoes, his coat, and disappeared into the forest preserve for the next two hours.

Construction work moved along in a way that made Matthew stop and pause. The roof over the kitchen wing was finished, and workers started refinishing the floors and walls. The scaffolding over the bedroom wing started to recede to unveil the new roof, and the restoration moved inside. Mr. Yang kept his office door firmly closed, burying himself in work and sending out a mass email that, due to ongoing issues with the telephone lines, all queries needed to be submitted via email.

The first full day without the children was ghostly. Matthew floated aimlessly, cleaning here and there, desperately trying to fix Lloyd and placing orders for new seat covers and fabrics. He tried making sourdough bread for the first time, though the flatbread-looking blob that came out appeared so unappetizing he left it to the birds.

The second full day started with Eli calling the house. Their grandparents had taken them to a confusingly terrifying-sounding movie where a chameleon and iguana almost drown at the end of the animated wild-west film, and went out for pizza after. "We're drawing a lot!" Lilly shouted from behind her cousin. "I drawed a picture of Eli picking his nose at dinner!"

"You said you weren't drawing that!" Eli said, and the conversation spiraled so quickly into squabbling that Matthew couldn't help but laugh.

He was sure to tell them he missed them, what work was happening, how everyone was doing. Once the call was over, Matthew took to answering emails from the Foundation and searching for places that could supply VW interior details. The day was empty.

The third day without the children was a blur. Matthew didn't remember leaving his room once.