Michael ran his fingers through his thick, long hair. The task at hand was monumental. "Come on. Let's go get some stuff for you."
"Can you just get a change of clothes? I'm sure I can get the rest of it later." Maria dropped her head, running her fingers through her own long, golden hair.
He started into the hallway, turning around in the doorway. "Is there anything specifically that you want?"
She had dropped her head to her lap, and was absently stroking the hair falling onto her face. "It doesn't even matter. I don't care."
"You know I'm gonna end up stealing a pair of panties or something, right?"
Michael's attempt to brighten the mood had fallen on deaf ears. Glancing over, he saw that Maria had curled into a little ball on the couch, crying softly to herself. With his heart aching for his love, Michael walked into her room and took a large duffel bag out of the closet. He chose comfortable, baggy things for her to curl up in and not have to worry about.
Moving on to the bathroom, he picked up numerous bottles and examined them. There were so many things that he didn't understand about women. What did they need so many bottles and lotions for? Picking up the shampoo, he sniffed the cap and automatically inhaled Maria. This was her; that subtle hint of Jasmine and Cypress Oil that seemed to cling to her everywhere. Tucking it in the bag with an abundant number of other bottles, he walked on.
Heading back to the living room, Michael passed Amy DeLuca's room. Pausing, he moved inside. He had always been kind of intimidated by Maria's hyperactive mother. When she loved him, she really went out of her way to show it. When she was wary and unsure of him, she made damn sure that he knew it, too.
He also realized how much he owed to her. She had struggled with her life, raised her daughter to be the most kind, thoughtful, considerate person ever. She was undoubtedly strong willed a trait that she had passed down to Maria, but in the end, even that couldn't save her. Feeling sympathy for a woman that he could have known better, Michael went to Ms. DeLuca's dresser and took out some clothes for Maria to wear and remember in.
Silently, he walked back to the couch. Looking down, he saw Maria in the same position just staring out into the room.
"I can't believe she's really gone." Her voice sounded dry and rusty, as though she hadn't used it in days.
"She'll never really be gone. There are pieces of her everywhere. In this house, in you. As long as you remember her, she'll never really die."
She seemed mildly surprised at his revelation, but said nothing choosing to sit up instead. "I can't stay here right now. It's just too much. Can we please go Michael?"
Gathering her hands in his, he pressed kisses to the backs of her hands, tugging slightly. "Here, let me help you up."
Together, with Michael carrying the duffel bag, they headed out to Valenti's Explorer. He was standing out there, leaning against the door. "Ready to leave?"
*****
Michael made sure that once home. Maria would want for nothing. He took it upon himself to cook and clean for her, to make her comfortable, to be a shoulder for her to cry on. More than once, he walked into his room only to find Maria holding a pillow to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Gently he would remove the pillow from her grasp and pull her fragile body into his arms.
Ever so slowly her cries would subside, leaving her whimpering and clinging to him as if to keep him from leaving her, too. Lifting her body onto his, he would gently rock her into a restful slumber and desperately with she would find some type of temporary peace.
Just around lunchtime, Michael had been cleaning up the kitchen when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it he saw Liz standing there, looking so anxious that he just moved out of the way and led her back to the bedroom.