Warning: Picks up where episode 3.7 left off. If you're not into spoilers, you'll probably want to wait to read it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and am only doing this for fun.
Notes: I originally planned this to be one story, but then it kept getting longer and longer. It seemed to be falling nicely into threes, so I think there will be three volumes, with three scenes in each. The name comes from the Mumford & Sons song "White Blank Page."
Matt sat in the car, listening to his mother and grandmother fuss over the television. He leaned back against the seat, turning things over in his head. Discussions about appliances or the proper way to cook eggs....that could be his life for the next ten years.
Ten years of delivering pizza and taking classes at the community college. Ten years of cutting the crust off toast and doling out medication. Ten years of putting his life on hold and putting everyone else first.
He could do it, of course he could do it. But with the death gratuity and Grandma's acceptance of Shelby as part of the family, he could see a way out. A different future that looked a hell of a lot better than the present.
But still, that little voice nagged away at the back of his head, the one that told him that he'd be abandoning the only person who was always there for him. The one that reminded him he was no better than his father. The one that said staying was the right thing.
"Oh shut up," muttered Matt under his breath as he stepped out of the car. He took the three steps in one stride and pulled the front door open. He was barely in the house when his grandmother was hugging him, the weight of her dragging him down.
"Matthew! I missed you so much. Did you have a good time at the concert?" she asked.
"Yeah, Grandma. I did."
"I didn't know concerts went on for three days, but there you go. I guess there's a lot of things I don't know." She beamed at him before shuffling off toward the bathroom.
"It was more like a festival, like a series of concerts, different bands, different places," he mumbled as she walked away.
"Glad you had a nice time," said Shelby.
"Yeah, thanks. And thanks for staying with Grandma."
"It's no problem. You look kind of tired, so why don't I stay the night?"
"You don't have to do that. I'm fine, really."
"It's okay. I want to." She smiled at him.
At some point in the last year, Shelby gone from being a stranger to a friend and finally seemed to be making the transition to family member.
"Thanks. I guess I'm tired after all that driving," he said as he went to his room.
When Matt closed the door behind him, his room felt small and cramped, like the walls had moved a few feet closer together while he'd been gone. He turned on the light, then stretched out on the bed with a sigh.
Closing his eyes, he started a mental list of the things he needed to figure out. How to leave. When to leave. Where to go. What to do. What to say to Grandma. To Shelby. To Julie. To Landry.
The idea of starting a new life somewhere else was intoxicating and terrifying. Like calling for the snap from the shotgun and watching the defensive line thunder forward. Matt smiled to himself, thinking that at least he had more than two seconds to make a decision and creating a new life wouldn't involve getting flattened by 200-pound gorillas.
Matt woke up before the sun was up, still wearing the clothes from the night before. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he felt better for it. His head was clear, like a new page, a fresh start.
He pulled open the door and stepped out into the living room. Shelby was perched on the couch, drinking a cup of tea, both hands wrapped around the mug like it was the only heat source left in the world. They exchanged mumbled greetings, then Matt made his way across the room and sat down next to her.
"How're you doing?" she asked.
He shrugged and looked away. "I don't know."
"What do you need? Anything I can help you with?"
"I need... I think I need," he stumbled through the words and then paused for a deep breath. "I think I need to leave."
Matt could nearly see the words hanging in the air between them. A declaration of something. Not quite independence, but something.
"I know."
"You know?"
"It's time, Matt. You need to live your own life, for you."
"But Grandma-"
"I'll take care of Lorraine. You don't need to worry about that."
Matt looked down, his eyes drawn to a frayed patch of carpet in the middle of the room. He opened his mouth once, twice, trying and failing to string his thoughts into coherent sentences. Shelby reached over and put her hand on top of his clasped hands.
"You're not abandoning her, Matthew. You're doing what kids do - you're growing up. She'll understand. Maybe she'll forget sometimes and squawk about it, but in her heart, she knows this is what you need to do."
He nodded slowly, feeling the tidal wave of guilt begin to ebb away to a manageable trickle. "Thank you."
Shelby smiled. "So, today's the first day of the rest of your life. What are you going to do?"
"I think I'm going to go up to Chicago, see if I can talk them into letting me start next semester at the Art Institute."
"Good for you. I'll make you some breakfast while you pack."
Matt stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. He took a long look at Grandma's closed door, then turned back to Shelby. "Thank you. For everything."
Her smile was real and so were the tears in her eyes as she waved him off to start packing.
Matt had never really gone anywhere before. Dallas for the State Championship game. Austin for the music festival. Oklahoma when he asked Shelby to sign the emancipation papers. Marfa for the Open House of Donald Judd's work.
On the rare occasion when he packed a bag, it had been simple: enough socks, underwear, and clean shirts to last the duration of the trip. But what do you pack when you don't know how long you'll be gone?
He filled a duffel bag with clothes, then filled a second bag with his art supplies. Rummaging around in the closet, he found a wooden crate full of old toys. Matchbox cars. Lego. Batman and Power Ranger figures. Grinning, he picked up the Furby that Grandma had given him for Christmas and remembered how Landry had taught it quotes from The Princess Bride.
He pulled open an empty dresser drawer and poured in the toys. The drawer eased closed without difficulty and Matt looked around the room. He was putting his clock-radio into the crate when Grandma knocked, then pushed open the door.
"You're going on a trip." It was a statement, not a question, and Matt wondered how much Shelby had told her about what was going on.
"Yeah...I'm going up to Chicago," said Matt, stuttering on the last word. He took down a few of his drawings. The hands that didn't make Richard want to puke. A portrait of Julie. The best figure he'd drawn at the community college.
"How long are you going to be gone for?"
"I don't know." Matt put a few books into the crate, then turned to look at his grandmother.
"Well, I suppose the day was always going to come."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Matthew, I don't see what you have to be sorry about. I don't want to hold you back. Maybe I should've pushed you out earlier. But I just couldn't. I don't want to live in that home."
"I know. And you don't have to. Shelby will look after you and now you have the money to pay someone to help."
"Like that nice Mexican girl. What was her name?"
"Carlotta. And she was Guatemalan."
Grandma waved her hand, as though it was all the same thing. "We're going to be just fine, Matthew. Just fine. And you'll come back to visit, right?"
"Of course I will."
Grandma gathered him up in a hug and this time, he didn't feel like she was pulling him down. He felt like he was five years old again, when he'd have nightmares and Grandma would comfort him. She'd always told him it was all going to be all right. And it nearly always was.