The thoughts of that alpine morning in the Tetons calmed him. He remembered wildflowers sprouting outside their rental cabin and butterflies flittering from one flower to the next, backlit by the sun. It might have been his favorite outdoor moment in his first trip to the Northern Rockies. They’d arrived in the park well after dark, unable to see the landscape until morning. Then they’d opened the door into a sunny alpine world. Matt thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He remembered standing in the doorway, mouth agape, Stacey’s hand on his shoulder. This is what we came for, isn’t it, she’d said, smiling.

“I still remember him running up the path, donut dragging behind him,” Stacey said. “When he put it down, his little face was covered in white. And what about that moose, Matt? Do you remember the size of that thing? Geeze, and it came so close to us.”

Matt looked into her eyes, measuring the excitement. She was happy to see him again. He was elated to see her—so much so that he was shaking, trying to cover it up with terse comments.

“It was a freak of nature,” he said.

“And it had that collar around it. The one they use to track animals for research. Remember the velvety ropes hanging off its antlers? It looked like a Rastafarian moose!” she said, laughing.

“Ja mon, dat moose,” Matt said.

Stacey burst out laughing, her pink tongue nestled behind her perfect teeth. She smiled at him. And then her smile faded to a frown.

“So why did we break up again? I was never really sure why.”

The jukebox switched to “November Rain” by Guns N Roses. Matt cleared his throat, searching for the right approach.

“It wasn’t because of anyone else, I do know that.” His eyes met hers, wanting her to see the truth in them.

“Same here. I’ve been thinking about it, though. Do you think . . . do you think it might have something to do with how amazing our trips were, and coming back to the suburbs was such a drag?”

Matt turned to the dark lake and woods. Silvery clouds passed above the tree tops, revealing pointed shapes in the sky. He thought it might be the Tetons.

“That might have something to do with it,” he said. “To be honest, I withdrew when my father and Elmo died. I sat in my house for months. I didn’t invite anyone over—I didn’t want to see anyone. I’m sorry Stacey, I didn’t mean to push you away. I care for you.”

Stacey’s eyes worked up and down the rising monoliths on the horizon. She bent down and looked into his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

“I’m telling the truth.”