This conversation was like swimming through acid; it burned through flesh and bone. “I know, baby,” he said finally. “I know.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN

The day of the summer play dawned crisp and clear. A beautiful Northwest autumn afternoon. Kate wanted to help Marah prepare for the big event, but she was too weak to do much. Smiling took effort. The pain behind her eyes was constant now, like the bleating beat of an alarm clock that couldn’t be turned off.

And so Kate handed over her duties to Tully, who performed them like a champ.

Kate slept through most of it. By the time night had fallen, she was as rested as she could be and ready to face the challenge of what lay ahead.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Tully asked at six forty-five.

“I’m ready. Maybe you should put some makeup on me so I don’t scare little kids.”

“I thought you’d never ask. And I brought you a wig to wear—if you want it.”

“I’d love it. I would have thought of it myself if I had any brain cells left.” She reached for her oxygen mask and took a few hits.

Tully left the room and returned with her makeup kit.

Kate angled her bed up and closed her eyes. “This feels like the old days.”

Tully talked as she worked her magic, penciling on eyebrows, gluing on lashes. Kate let herself be carried away on the tide of her friend’s voice. “I have a gift, you know. Do you have a razor?”

Kate meant to laugh. Maybe she even did.

“Okay,” Tully finally said. “Time to try on the wig.”

Kate blinked, realizing she’d fallen asleep, and grinned. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about me. I love it when people fall asleep while I’m talking.”

Kate pulled the stocking cap off her head and the mittens off her hands. She was always freezing cold.

Tully put the wig on, positioned it, then helped Kate dress in a black wool dress with tights and boots. In the wheelchair, they wrapped her in blankets, then Tully wheeled her over to the mirror. “Well?”

She stared at her reflection—pale, thin face with eyes that looked huge beneath the drawn-on eyebrows, brightly blond shoulder-length hair, perfectly red lips. “Great,” she said, hoping she sounded honest.

“Good,” Tully said. “Let’s round the troops up and go.”

A half an hour later, they pulled up to the auditorium. They were so early that no other cars were yet in the parking lot.

Perfect.

Johnny put Kate in the wheelchair, covered her in blankets, and led the way to the front doors.

Inside, they took up most of the first row, saving places for the rest of the family; Kate’s wheelchair was positioned on the end of the aisle.