When the trailer park started stirring again, front doors slamming and cars driving across the gravel, headed for town, Matt made coffee and poured a bowl of cereal. Not because he was hungry, but because that was what people did in the morning.
He sat at the kitchen table for a long time. There was no reason to get up. No medicines to fetch, no schedule to keep. Nothing.
A few minutes after breakfast, or maybe four or five hours, there was a knock on the door. Amanda stood on the gravel outside. When Matt opened the door she was rummaging around in a grocery bag. “I brought something for you,” she said. She found something at the bottom of the bag and pulled it out. It was a box of adult diapers. “Before you say no, just give these a chance. It’ll be better than cleaning up the bed, plus we can always—” Amanda looked up at Matt’s face then, and instantly her expression changed. Her eyes grew round and her mouth opened, and then her whole face contracted in concern. “Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Amanda dropped the box and the grocery bag and moved toward Matt with her arms open. He held one hand up and stopped her.
She pulled back immediately, then wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ll give the funeral people a call, okay? We can take a walk or something while they come over. Maybe down to the riverside or the park or somewhere.” She searched his face. “Okay?”
“They already came by. Yesterday.”
Amanda’s face crumpled. “I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.” She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
They stood that way for a long time, Amanda crying, Matt standing there and looking out over the trailer park.
When Amanda’s sobs leveled off, she took some tissue out of her purse and cleaned up her face.
“Do you want to take a drive? Go to a restaurant or something? We don’t have to eat or anything, we could just sit there and talk. Or not talk, and drink coffee. It would just be, you know, somewhere to be. Somewhere else.”
Matt shook his head. He still didn’t look at her.
Amanda studied his face. “Matt, is there…I almost said ‘Is there anything wrong?’ but that’s a stupid thing to say right now.” She paused for a few moments, clearly to let Matt speak if he was going to. “But is there…is there anything else?”
Matt avoided eye contact and shook his head.
“Matt, don’t do this,” Amanda whispered. “Don’t go back to the way it was before. Don’t go back to the way you were.”
“Not going back. Always been like this.”
Amanda shook her head. “That’s not true, Matt. You know you—”
“You weren’t here!” Matt blurted out. Amanda took a step backward, as if she’d been slapped. “You weren’t here when I needed you. You’re just like everyone else.”
Amanda opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Matt glared at her for a few moments, then turned and walked back into the trailer. He had moved to shut the door when Amanda put her palm against it, holding it open.
“Matt, I had to go to my afternoon classes and then meet with my Independent Study advisors after school. They had to check my work and sign a bunch of forms. Then I had to help my mom go shopping in the evening. I told you all that!”
“No, you didn’t.”
Amanda’s hand fell from the door. She stared at Matt as he took another step backward. “Then maybe I forgot. Or maybe you forgot I told you. It’s been so crazy lately. But none of that matters. I’m here now, Matt. I’ll stay as long as you need me to. And then I’ll come back tomorrow. And the day after that.”
Matt retreated farther into the dim interior of the trailer. “Don’t worry about it. He’s dead, you know? I don’t need help anymore.”
“Matt…I don’t think that’s true.”
“I don’t need anything.” Matt stepped forward and closed the door.
He stood there for a long time, staring at the door. The Buick hadn’t driven away yet, so he knew she was still out there. After a long time he heard her call to him, “You don’t have to be alone.”
She didn’t know that it wasn’t a choice. He was alone.