The Maybrook father and daughter’s bereavement
Clown in a CornfieldThe Maybrook father and daughter’s bereavement is the emotional force behind their relocation from Philadelphia to Kettle Springs and the tension between the fresh start Glenn hopes to make and the grief Quinn cannot leave behind. Samantha’s absence is not merely background to the move: it determines why the family leaves, what each survivor expects the new town to change, and how ordinary things—a couch, a sport, a school year—keep the past present.
The Loss Behind the Move
For Quinn, her mother’s absence makes the move seem both necessary and impossible to imagine as a choice. She thinks that if Samantha were still alive, the family would never have left Philadelphia for Kettle Springs. The move therefore marks a break in the family’s life that Quinn connects directly to bereavement, rather than a simple change of address. Her father presents the relocation as a chance for them to begin again, but the new beginning is built around the fact that Samantha is no longer there.
The move also came with startling speed. Glenn received an offer on a Monday and accepted it by Friday; within a week, father and daughter were packing. He initially told Quinn what would happen rather than asking what she wanted, treating a move halfway across the country as a decision already made. Only later did he ask her to go, explaining that they needed a fresh start. The arrangement offered both a business and the deed to a house, material reasons to relocate that could be framed as an opportunity. For Quinn, however, the suddenness made the change feel imposed at the very moment when she was already living with a loss she had not chosen.
Two Different Forms of Grief
Glenn’s bereavement is rendered through exhaustion and withdrawal. Before moving, he had spent years working at a large hospital owned by a national healthcare conglomerate, where he repeatedly had to tell families that insurance would not cover procedures or medication. He had seen children arrive with gunshot wounds and leave with bills their families could not afford. The stress had worn on him; after Samantha overdosed, he was done. In the year that followed, he went through the motions, afraid to disturb the routine and unsure that the ground beneath him would remain steady. He could not keep his mind on his work, and he was not sleeping.
Quinn has more visible plans, but those plans do not mean she has escaped the loss. She imagines Kettle Springs as a temporary stop: a year in which she can keep her head down, recover, and later apply to Penn, Temple, or another college near Philadelphia. She had played volleyball, the sport her mother had encouraged her to pursue, and her coaches were upset that she would miss the varsity season. They even offered to speak to Glenn, although the decision to move was not Quinn’s. Leaving the team means losing a part of her own life that was also connected to Samantha. Her wish to start over therefore contains a contradiction: she hopes to get distance from the circumstances of her grief without surrendering the future her mother helped shape.
The difference between them is not that one grieves and the other does not. Glenn’s loss leaves him hollowed out and struggling to function; Quinn’s is interwoven with anger at the speed and unilateral nature of the move, with interrupted ambitions, and with the wish to be unknown. Each is trying to make the relocation serve a different need, while the same bereavement binds those needs together.
Objects, Memory, and Concealment
The old couch makes that bond bodily and immediate. As Quinn and Glenn lift it from the dew-damp grass, dust rises and Quinn tries to suppress a sneeze. She resents having to keep musty furniture from their former life, especially when replacing it could have helped them begin anew. But the couch smells like Samantha, and the practical task suddenly becomes a reminder of the person they have lost. Quinn is close to tears; Glenn sees her distress and tells her she is amazing. Their shared labor briefly gives grief a shape they can face together, even as the object that prompts it embodies the past Quinn would rather not carry into their new home.
Quinn also wants Kettle Springs to offer anonymity. There, she believes, nobody knows her as the girl whose mother slumped in the bleachers during the previous year’s regional competition and vomited down her chin. Nobody in town knows how Samantha died. The memory of that public episode and the concealment of the overdose are distinct burdens: one is an image Quinn expects others in Philadelphia to associate with her family, while the other is a fact she believes she can leave undisclosed in a new place. Her hoped-for fresh start depends partly on distance and silence, not on the loss having been resolved.
The Meaning and Limits of a Fresh Start
Glenn’s decision to leave is connected not only to Samantha’s death but also to the work he could no longer bear to do afterward. Quinn understands that he had been hollowed out and that the opportunity in Kettle Springs could give them both a different setting. She does not fight the move, even though it is not what she wants, because she too sees a possible use in beginning again. Their agreement is therefore qualified: the relocation may be needed, but it does not make the grief mutual in precisely the same way or erase the cost Quinn pays.
The contrast between the family’s hopes and the details of their arrival keeps that limitation in view. Glenn tries to make the move an occasion for renewal, yet the house is filled with furniture from their former life, Quinn has left her team, and Samantha remains present in a smell, a memory, and the reasons neither father nor daughter can return to who they were. Bereavement shapes the move as both an attempted escape and an act of carrying forward. Kettle Springs offers them a new place to live; it does not restore the family they were before Samantha’s death.

