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fork and in one swoop of my arm spear it into the heart of the voodoo doll. I take a deep breath.
    There.
    That’s better.
    *  *  *
    We decide to eat in Delaware to avoid seeing people we know. Margo, Jenn, and I drive from my house to the Delaware Memorial Bridge, passing one field after the other, lined up like dominoes fitted end to end. It is, as my mother always said, God’s country.
    We find street parking and a table close to the windows, and I wish they’d just move home and drive me to dinner forever.
    “How was work today?” Jenn asks as our drinks are delivered. “Did you ask them about a possible bereavement leave?”
    It’s not an implausible idea. Mom’s dead, Dad’s dead, relationship’s dead, I wish Jason was dead…I feel dead. Okay, half dead.
    “It was fine. It was actually good to have something to think about. I told Bruce I’d come up and meet with him on Thursday. He seemed happy to wait to bombard me with work. He did sound shocked I’m still on the East Coast.”
    “What are you going to do? Are you going back to New York City?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve only been with the company seven months, and four of those were an internship. I’ve been working my ass off to convince them to try a virtual work arrangement, but I just don’t care that much anymore. I’m not sure I can put the same effort into it.”
    Margo, who’s still finishing her degree, and Jenn, who is currently waitressing and learning how to surf, both nod in agreement.
    “I don’t know why, but I want to stay in Salem County,” I say, and as soon as it’s out of my mouth, I know it’s the truth. I need something. Something to keep me alive, and it’s not in New York and it’s not in New Brunswick. If it’s anywhere in this world, it’s in this tiny, barren county I call home.
    “God help you, Charlotte. You need to get out of Salem County,” Jenn says, and looks at me like this is common knowledge. “You need to make a new home. One without all these memories. You should come to Hawaii. You’ll never be this unattached again.”
    “Unattached” is a gentle word for completely alone . I guess not completely since I have Sean and Michelle, and these two fools with me, but it feels completely alone and will only get worse next week when they’re gone. I’ll be in a weakened state. If it can get any weaker.
    “Where else can you be within twenty miles of an international airport and a rodeo?” I ask, sounding like the Salem County Bureau of Tourism.
    “Who cares?” Jenn says.
    “True. I’m not planning on ever going to the rodeo again.”
    “What are you going to do?” Margo asks.
    Do about what? I can’t let my mind consider what she might be talking about.
    “Do you guys remember my parents’ funeral?” They nod. No one ever knows what to say when your parents die. “When I told you Jason was taking me for a drive?”
    “Yes. It was bizarre,” Margo says.
    “We had sex that day. And pretty much every day we’ve been together for the last two years. I think there’s something wrong with me.” I sigh, slightly grasping the depth of how fucked up I am.
    “I think I use sex to work through grief. Or worse, I use it to not work through grief.”
    Their faces display their confusion.
    “I can’t even talk to him. The sound of his voice makes me physically ill. Is that normal mourning?” I ask, and they both just stare at me, still not knowing what to say. “I think I’m in such bad shape now because instead of just losing Jason, I’m dealing with the loss of my parents, too. Jason and I ran from our grief. We avoided everything with each other.” I want him here now. I want to lie down with him and forget any of this happened. I shake my head and look at my menu. And when the tears fill my eyes, I squeeze them shut. I lay down my menu and Margo takes my hand.
    “Think about yourself right now,” Margo says. “I want you to go to church next Sunday. My mom said she’d take