Happy Topsy Turvy Day! I'm going to celebrate this auspicious occasion with an update!
Oh my goodness, I can't believe this is done. I really hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
Normally I would offer up an epilogue after this chapter, since it's the official end and I like epilogues. But I don't think that'd be really true to the story of Mary Poppins. However, if you'd like, I might be persuaded to write a short sequel...
Anyways, as always, I own nothing.
Mary goes upstairs to find the children eavesdropping on their father's end of the conversation. She stops and is about to scold them when Mr. Banks hangs up and the children get up slowly. She leads them to the nursery.
"To bed now, please," she requests, her voice gentler than usual. Neither Michael nor Jane kicks up a fuss.
"Mary Poppins?" Jane says.
"Yes?"
"Father is in trouble because of us, isn't he?"
Mary's heart breaks and she sits down on Jane's bed. The children join her. "Sometimes," Mary explains. "Adults simply need to find someone to lay blame on so they might not have to look at their own faults. Your father is a victim of that sort of thinking. Never believe that you are the source of your father's pain, Jane. He loves you very much."
"Oh, Mary Poppins!" Jane exclaims, flinging her arms around Mary's waist and squeezing. Mary freezes then rests one hand on Jane's head, the other on her back. "You can't ever leave! Whatever would we do without you?"
"You would carry on just fine, no doubt," she sniffs.
"No we wouldn't!" Jane protests. "I love you, Mary Poppins!"
"Me too!" Michael cries, joining the hug.
"I'm quite fond of you both," Mary replies, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Now into your pajamas. You've had a long day."
"Please don't go, Mary Poppins," Michael says.
"Oh, please stay," Jane pleads.
"I shall sit here until you've finished getting ready for bed," she promises, moving to the rocking chair and rocking back and forth for a few minutes until the children have completed their nightly routine. She frowns. The idea of leaving her charges has never seemed so daunting before.
Oh, now you've done it, Mary, she scolds herself silently. You've gone and gotten all muddled, just in time to leave. Distance yourself quickly!
Even turning out the lights and leaving the room feels like she's tearing just a little corner of her heart out.
She comes quietly downstairs just in time to catch the end of Bert and Mr. Banks' conversation. From her position on the stairs, she can see Mr. Banks' posture start to give and she smiles sadly, knowing that her work has just been all but completed by Bert.
She follows him outside just as the children come downstairs.
"Well, 'ello, Mary Poppins," he says cheerfully. "Lovely night out."
"Hello, Bert," she replies carefully. Her throat tightens when she speaks. "It is, isn't it?"
He studies her, his eyes roaming as if he's trying to memorize every detail. She just looks back at him without trying to shy from his gaze. "The winds changing soon, innit?" he asks.
"By tomorrow, I should think." She can barely speak her throat is so choked up.
"Mary, are you alright?" he questions her. His eyes fill with worry.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she says suddenly, choking back a sob.
"Mary?"
She looks up at the sky, studying it with intensity. "All my life, I've managed to keep myself free of entanglements and now…"
"Now what?"
"I can't seem to make myself disengage. I… I…"
"You love 'em, don't you, Mary Poppins?"
"Yes, I- I suppose I do," she sighs. "And now we must say goodbye. And I'm all muddled."
He's quiet for a moment. "Maybe we got it wrong, Mary," he says suddenly.
"I beg your pardon?" she sniffs.
"About saying goodbye. Maybe all this time we got it wrong."
"I'm sorry, Bert, but I really don't understand."
"Maybe… maybe…" he hesitates. "Maybe sayin' goodbye is better. Because when you say goodbye, you let people go. But at the same time, you trust you'll see 'em again. Maybe there's nothing sad at all in saying goodbye. Maybe goodbye isn't permanent at all. Not if you don't want it to be."
She straightens up, working her way back into her practically perfect shell. "I really must be going back inside."
"I 'ope you get unmuddled, Mary."
She summons a small smile and he grins back. "I love ya, never doubt that."
"How could I possibly when you're so good to me?" she asks rhetorically.
He kisses her cheek softly. "Sleep well, Mary Mine. Things'll look brighter in the morning."
He gets about ten feet away before she calls his name. He turns around and she all but flings herself into his arms, kissing him with all the passion she can muster. Automatically, his arms tug her waist to pull her near and she threads her arms around his neck, trying to bring him as close as humanly possible. When they pull away her lips feel bruised. "Farewell, Bert," she says.
"Goodbye," he corrects. "I 'ave faith you'll come back."
"And I have faith you'll be here," she responds.
"Then we can say goodbye. It'll be good practice."
"Goodbye, Bert," she says quietly and carefully shuts that door in her heart, so she can no longer feel the pain the separation might cause.
"Goodbye, Mary."
She nods and goes back into the house.
"He's a very handsome man," Winifred grins and Mary suspects she's been watching from the window.
"Indeed, mum," Mary hums.
"He seems to care for you an awful lot," Winifred continues.
"Yes'm."
The blond woman frowns. "Mary Poppins, are you alright?"
Mary gives her a tight smile. "I'll be just fine, mum. Is Mr. Banks off to the bank?"
"He left just as you came in. I'm just so worried… Mary Poppins, I feel foolish asking, but will you sit with me until he's home?"
"Of course."
They sit in tense silence for an hour. Mary wishes there were something she could do to relieve some of the anxiety Mrs. Banks is feeling.
"Mary Poppins, are you sure you're alright?" Mrs. Banks asks suddenly.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Banks, I assure you."
Winifred gets a mischievous look in her eye. "So the chimney sweep who was here earlier…"
"He's a dear friend of mine, ma'am," Mary says, trying to sound convincing.
"He seems wonderful."
Mary allows herself a small smile. "He is indeed."
"Oh, where is George? You'd think he'd be home… You don't think…" A worried look crosses her face and Mrs. Banks starts to pace frantically. "He was in such a state when he left. He might have… No, he wouldn't…" She turns to Mary Poppins with a question in her eyes. "You don't think…"
"Absolutely not," Mary assures her. "Now I'll go make you a cup of tea and then I shall need to rest, as you should."
Mrs. Banks murmurs her thanks but is clearly distracted.
Mary does as she says and checks in on the children one more time before getting ready for bed. She sighs. It's time for her to go; come morning they won't need her at all. She smoothes each child's hair and kisses them softly on the forehead. Neither one stirs.
Standing in the doorway she takes a deep breath, lets one tear drop, and then lets the Banks children go as best she can.
0ooo0
The next morning, she dresses the children and glances out the window. As she suspected, the winds have changed. She says as much and gets her carpet bag. Jane and Michael look horrified, but she spent the night making sure that she could do this very thing. Still, she avoids looking at them while she packs.
"She doesn't care what happens to us," Michael mopes.
Thankfully she doesn't have to address that, since Jane answers him. "She only promised to stay until the wind changed. Isn't that right, Mary Poppins?"
"Will you bring me my hat stand, please?" she requests instead of answering, nodding her head to the object.
Jane and Michael obey but slowly. Jane turns around, tears in her eyes. "Mary Poppins, don't you love us?"
"And what would happen to me, may I ask," she replies, swallowing a lump in her throat, "if I loved all the children I said goodbye to?"
Jane and Michael both hold back sobs and she feels terribly. But this is for their own good, she knows it, so she keeps a stiff upper lip and continues to pack her things.
She's happy to hear Mr. Banks come home, even happier to hear him call the children. "Your father's calling you," she points out.
"It doesn't sound like Father," Michael comments.
She widens her eyes and gives them a stern look. "Run along! Spit spot!"
They both turn around at the door, actually in tears. "You won't go, Mary Poppins, will you?" Michael asks.
"Spit spot," she repeats sadly.
They leave the room and go downstairs to be with their family, as it should be.
She finishes packing her things, pulls out her umbrella and goes to the window. The Banks family is skipping down the street, Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, as it should be.
Looking around the room, she smiles. "Practically perfect in every way," she murmurs and goes downstairs with her bag. No one watches her leave, as it should be.
She pauses on the stoop just to see the family she's become so attached to one more time. "That's gratitude for you!" her umbrella squawks. "Didn't even say goodbye!"
"No, they didn't."
"You know, they think more of their father than they do of you!" he exclaims.
"That's as it should be," she nods.
"Well, don't you care?"
"Practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking."
"Is that so?" he asks, sounding rather sarcastic. "Well, I'll tell you one thing, Mary Poppins. You don't fool me a bit!"
She turns to face the insolent thing. "Oh really?"
"Yes, really! I know exactly how you feel about these children and if you think I'm going to keep my mouth shut any longer, I-"
She stifles his words by holding his beak closed. "That will be quite enough of that, thank you!"
She taps his forehead and he goes to sleep. She unfurls the umbrella and takes off into the sky.
Bert is the only one to notice her go, as it should be.
He grins up at her. "Goodbye, Mary Poppins. Don't stay away too long."
She looks back and grins at him. Someday soon, she'll never have to hear the word goodbye out of his mouth again, but for now she's content to fly off to where she's needed most. Someday soon, she'll be in his arms permanently, but not quite yet. There's still a lot of imperfection in the world, after all.
He raises his hand in a salute and his grin becomes even wider, as if he might be reading her thoughts. She smiles one last time, turns to face forward and flies off into the skies.
She's leaving again, but the promise of tomorrow hangs in the air.
Do let me know about the sequel.
Thank you so much for everything, everyone!
-Juli-
