Letters to Matt (4 page)

It pisses me off. I welcome the anger if only it means I’m feeling something that doesn’t have to do with my grief over losing Matt. I’m sitting in the front row with Matt’s parents and sisters. Mack is on the right of me. I think she feels my tension, because she reaches over and wraps her small hand around mine.

Everyone is crying as sad songs—songs that Matt didn’t even like—start playing in honor of him. If they wanted to honor Matt, they should have blared some
Rolling Stones
, not this sappy crap. I’m too numb to feel sadness. I only feel aggravation. Matt wasn’t cookie cutter, by any means. He was amazing and wonderful and perfect. He deserves something better than this routine funeral with words that have been spoken at every funeral ever.

Finally, the priest/preacher/whatever gets off his soapbox and informs everyone that there will be a gathering at the Hollis’ residence hosted by Connie and Doug. Matt is being cremated so there won’t be a burial service. He instructs everyone to form a single file line and pay their last respects to Matt and the family. Which means more hugs and more “I’m sorrys”.

I watch the tear stained faces as they approach us. I haven’t shed a single tear since I’ve gotten here. In fact, I haven’t cried since I woke up in the hospital. It makes me wonder if I’m heartless. Logically, I know no one can tell me how to grieve. I took psychology in school. Loss affects everyone differently. Still, I have to wonder how everyone sees me, essentially the grieving, pregnant widow who hasn’t shed a tear and just stared blankly at the casket during the whole service.

By the fiftieth hug, I start to feel claustrophobic. I know everyone means well, and I know they miss him, too, but I feel like I can’t breathe. I suffer through it until the last person, someone in our class, walks up.

“Matt was always so nice,” she tells me. I can’t even think of her name. I want to laugh in her face. How is she going to talk about Matt when the closest person to him can’t even figure out who she is? “This shouldn’t have happened to him.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly.

She hugs me and starts to sob. I want to roll my eyes. Finally, she pulls away and moves onto Mack and the rest of his family. Without a word to anyone, I exit from the room and powerwalk outside. I make a beeline for the far wall of the building that’s empty of any people. I welcome the fresh air and take large gulps of it into my lungs.

I stand, bent over my huge belly, trying to even out my breathing when I feel a hand on my back and nearly jump out of my skin.

“Shit,” Adam says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to come over and make sure you were okay.”

I don’t say “I’m fine,” because it would be a lie. “I just needed away from everyone. It’s so crowded.”

He gives a sympathetic nod. “So, a bunch of us are riding to Matt’s parents’ house together. Wanna come with us?” He indicates the group with his thumb. I look over to see Mandy, Destinee, Nadine, and Mitch standing in a huddle, talking.

I shake my head. “I’m not going. I just want to go home and curl up in bed.” It’s true, but honestly, the idea of walking into the house Matt spent the past four years of his life in rips my heart in two.

“Oh. Okay.” He shifts in his spot. Adam was never good with feelings and, like everyone else, I think he’s at a loss as to how to approach me, or what to say. “Well, if you need anything, you know you can call me.”

I nod my head. “Thanks. You’re a good friend,” I add, because it’s true and I need him to understand that I appreciate the effort.

“Anytime,” he says, patting my hand.

I watch him walk over and place his hand in Nadine’s. He shakes his head and says something to the others. Mandy glances over in my direction, her eyes questioning, but I just shake my head. She gives me a slight nod. Mandy and I mastered the art of communicating without words years ago. She drapes an arm over her girl, Destinee’s, shoulders and they lead the group to Mitch’s car.

I find Mom and Dad talking to a group of people and head over to them.

“Can we go home now?” I ask.

“You don’t want to go Connie and Doug’s?” Mom asks, taken back.

“No. I just want to go home.”

Her eyes study me for a moment before nodding her head. “Okay, sweetie. That’s fine.”

Mom and Dad say goodbye to the people they were talking to. Mom places her hand on my back and leads me to the car.

I wake up in a cold sweat. The nightmare had felt so real. I was no stranger to bizarre dreams since I’d gotten pregnant. Dreams of the baby being stolen or stillborn have haunted me for the past six months. I’d read that it was fairly normal, but it didn’t help the emotions I felt when they occurred. The desperation I’d felt when I pictured a cooing baby in her car seat being taken by a masked figure while I watched, unable to scream or run toward them, still swims through my head.

Instinctively, I reach for Matt. When he isn’t there, I grab for my phone. He never minds when I call him at three in the morning, hysterical after one of these nightmares. I dial his number without thinking. I listen as it rings before going to voicemail. I listen to his voice telling me to leave a message and he’d give me a call back.

The message is halfway over before it hits me that just three days ago I’d been to his funeral. Matt is dead and he isn’t going to answer the phone. He isn’t going to rush over to hold me while I fall back into a peaceful slumber. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

The phone drops to the floor and tears flood my eyes. It is the first time I’ve cried since the accident and my body is making up for lost time. I can barely catch my breath. I would scream if my lungs would cooperate. There’s an ache in my chest and I can feel my nose dripping.

I can’t do this alone. I can’t handle this by myself. My heart feels like it’s been torn in two. I jump from the bed and run from my room. I can only imagine that I scare the crap out of my parents as I run toward their bed, tears running down my face as I fight to catch my breath.

“Jaden, what’s wrong?” my mom asks, alarmed.

“He’s gone, Mom!” I scream as I scramble into the bed. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Oh, baby,” Mom soothes, holding me tightly as she rubs my back. “I know, honey. Just let it all out.”

And I do.

I don’t even know how long I cry. When it feels like I don’t have any tears left, more come. I cry until my throat is sore and my face and chest are soaked with tears. I cry until I fall asleep with my parents wrapped around me, because at some point Mom had moved me to the middle of their bed.

I walked into the last class of the day. I still hadn’t seen Matt since lunch except for a few fleeting glances in the halls. So, when I walked into Spanish and saw him sitting there, my heart soared. He looked amazing sitting there at the desk, gathering his notebook and pens from his backpack. And even better, there were plenty of empty seats around him since there were still a few minutes before the bell rang, but I didn’t want to seem too obvious. So I picked one a little cattycorner from him. I was concentrating on getting out my own materials when I heard a conversation take place.

“Hey, man, I’m Matt,” he said.

The voice near him replied, “I’m Mitch. You’re new here, right?” Mitch Ryder and I were acquaintances. We’d gone to school together since elementary, but we were never really close. We just kind of said hi in the hallways.

“Yeah, just transferred.” I fought with everything in me not to turn and watch them talk. I heard paper being ripped from the notebook. “So, uh, you see that girl right there?” Matt was trying to be quiet, but I was so close I could still hear every word.

I could practically feel Mitch’s gaze flitting to me before looking back at Matt.  “You mean Jaden?”

I smiled at the mention of my name, but tried not to make it obvious I was listening. I’m sure I failed, though.

“Is that her name? Jaden?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, well, will you hand this to her?” I heard the paper being passed from one boy to the next.

I could hear the smile in Mitch’s voice as he spoke. “You got guts, man. I like that.”

A second later, there was a tapping on my shoulder. I looked over to see Mitch smiling at me.

“Oh, hey, Mitch,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though I knew the boys could see right through me.

“Hey, Jaden,” he replied with a knowing smile. “My new buddy, Matt, here, wanted me to give this to you.”

I felt my face flush as I glanced over at Matt. He smiled widely at me. I took the offered piece of paper from Mitch.

“Thanks,” I told him.

“No problem.”

I turned my attention to unfolding the note. The handwriting was untidy. The words were big, scrawled across half the page.
Please come sit by me?
A smile grew on my face. Who wrote and passed notes like this anymore? Apparently Matt did. It was so cute and so personal in the world of texting and IMing.

I glanced back to meet his anxious face. I nodded and gathered my stuff. The grin on his face was a mile wide as I moved to sit in the seat next to him.

“I’m Matt,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Jaden,” I told him, taking his offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

The sound of Dad’s alarm clock goes off. I’ve been awake for five minutes, getting lost in my own memories. I hadn’t even thought about Dad having to get up early. I suddenly feel terrible for barging in like I did last night (well, this morning), and keeping them up.

Dad is starting to stir next to me, but Mom remains in her slumber, her arm wrapped around me. After twenty years, she is used to sleeping through Dad’s alarm. I look over at my father as he reaches to turn off the noise.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I tell him.

He reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. “There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Princess.” He gives me a reassuring pat as he starts to climb from the bed. “Try and get some more sleep, okay?”

I nod my head before closing my eyes. I’m back asleep before he even gathers his clothes and leaves the room.

I wake up a little while later to Mom slowly moving her arm off me. Despite her efforts to not wake me, I still pull out of my slumber. I roll over to look at her.

“Good morning, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” I tell her, grabbing my growling belly.

I know I’m a long way from accepting that Matt is gone, but I think my breakdown helped a lot. For the first time in almost a week, I actually want to eat. I want to continue my life. It still feels like there’s a void in my chest, but I know this is the first step that I need to take.

I spent the past three days in bed, refusing to leave for anyone or anything. Mandy called countless times, as had Adam and Mitch. Mom told me Connie stopped by once. It is time to get back to the real world of people that love me. I may have lost Matt, but I still have countless people here who care about me, and whom I care about.

I can see Mom’s smile grow. “What would you like to eat?”

I think about it for a moment. I’m still pregnant and dealing with morning sickness. Seriously, I thought this shit was supposed to stop after the first couple of months. Apparently, I am one of the lucky ones who get to experience it the whole pregnancy. I mentally run through a few things, but most of them make me nauseous just thinking about them.

“How about some pancakes?” I can slather them up with butter and a little syrup and probably keep them down.

“Pancakes, coming right up.”

Mom stands from the bed and I watch her. “Thanks, Mom.”

She turns to look at me, and for a few moments just allows a small smile to grace her lips.  “That’s what moms are for, sweetie.”

I would love to stay lying here, because I’m still sleepy, but Sophie is pressing on my screaming bladder, and honestly, the idea of spending another moment in bed depresses me. Getting out of bed is harder with this huge belly. I do a strange roll to land on my feet. Mom laughs as she watches me. I know she doesn’t mean it maliciously, and I’m sure it’s a funny sight.

Surprisingly, I find myself laughing with her. It feels good to laugh. Before long, we are leaning against each other to keep from falling over. I laugh until there are tears in my eyes. I push back the nagging feeling that I should feel guilty for being happy. Matt died. I didn’t. And I know he would want me to have moments like this.

“Maybe putting you in the middle of the bed wasn’t such a good idea,” Mom suggests as we start to calm down.

“Probably not,” I agree. “You know, that bed seemed a lot bigger when I was a kid.”

“That’s what happens when you grow up and essentially add another half a person to it, I guess.”

She lets out a wistful sigh and drapes her arm around me. “Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

“I need to pee first. Sophie has taken residence upon my bladder.”

Mom smiles. “You did the same thing to me,” she says. “That is one thing about pregnancy I will never miss. Go pee. I’ll get the pancakes started. Do you want anything special in them? I bought fresh blueberries when I went shopping.”

“Blueberries sound awesome,” I tell her as I quickly exit the room, unable to hold it much longer.              

After relieving myself and brushing my teeth, I chance a look in the mirror. I look like hell. It’s obvious I cried last night. I wash my face and reapply my messy bun, hoping to make myself appear more human. It works for the most part.

I waddle down the steps and I can already smell the pancakes and blueberries filling the room.

“How many do you want?” Mom asks.

“I’ll take two,” I tell her, grabbing the bottled water she’d set at my spot for me. “Mom, do you think I could call Mandy to come over today?”

I really miss my best friend. I feel bad for ignoring her for three days. We never did that kind of thing to each other. We always talk almost every day. We’ve only had one big fight and that was in middle school. Even then we went only one day without talking to each other before I called and apologized. Turns out, she had been wanting to call me, too, but was afraid I wouldn’t forgive her.

“Absolutely, honey.”

I hesitate to say the next thing on my mind. “And, if she agrees, can we go see Connie and Doug and the girls?”

I can tell by her silence that Mom is choosing her words carefully so as not to offend me. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, having Mandy over is a great step in the right direction, but you don’t want to overwhelm yourself.”

“I know,” I tell her. “But this is something I want to do. I miss the girls. And if it becomes too much, Mandy can always bring me home.”