As Misty weakened, her mood soured despite her resolve to keep things steady for her daughter. At her grandmother’s asking, Charlotte decided to put on a show and act out her mother’s favorite movie on the grand terrace. An idea that struck Patch with a new kind of fear when she told him he would play the role of Danny to her Sandy, and that he better well fucking try.
Patch spent a week rigging lights, building a crude set, and gathering props from the Goodwill store on Main Street. Charlotte wrote a script and berated without mercy when he could not recall lines she changed daily.
On a perfect evening Patch redefined shambolic, missing cues and falling over his feet while Misty laughed so hard her mother further worried for her health. Mrs. Meyer took the role of stagehand, aiming a spotlight as her granddaughter expertly belted out songs, moved between costumes and changed hairstyles.
When it came to the final number, Patch swept Misty into his arms, tried not to notice how light she was, how his fingers nestled between her perfect bones.
“You know I’m still hopelessly devoted to you, right?” she said into his ear.
Another week passed.
Misty was there.
And then she was not.