Page 98 of In What World

“News please,” he demands.

“So…I know you don’t really want the theater to be named for you,” I start, my nerve already threatening to deny me.

“Not particularly,” he confirms. “But I was under the impression it was out of my hands now, since Ms. Cove had already placed her calls to the people who decide those things.”

“I did,” Priscilla says. “But Marlowe thought of something even better. Something you might actually like.”

“You know I love the art of expectation, but just tell me,” Dallas begs.

“We’d like to name it the Theodore Marquez Auditorium, in Teddy’s honor,” I say.

The car goes silent.

“We don’t have to, though,” I assure him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles have turned purplish white.

He still doesn’t respond.

“If you hate it, we will scrap the entire thing,” I say. “Consider it completely erased. We just thought that in so many ways, the stage really belongs to him. He brought you here to Garden Meadows. He encouraged your passion of the arts. And this seems like a perfect way to introduce him to all the people who weren’t lucky enough to actually know him.”

Finally, after an age, Dallas says, “It’s perfect.”

It turns out Priscilla is right. The car is the ideal place for this. Because while I know he means it, and I can see in the rearview that he’s moved to tears, I can also tell he wants a moment for himself to look out the window and think of his Teddy.

We arrive at the community theater way ahead of my call time, but both of them understood what they got into when they asked to drive here with me. Priscilla is volunteering at the ticket booth anyway, and Dallas can always mingle with a crowd, no matter who is in it.

He hugs me in the parking lot, thanking me again.

“I’m glad you like it,” I say.

“You know me so well,” he replies.

Hearing that means the world.

The locals of Garden Meadows swarm Priscilla upon arrival, all competing for her attention. She’s been flying back and forth between here and LA ever since she booked the movie. We thought the long-distance thing would be a lot harder than it actually is. We make it work because we love each other. It’s really that simple.

But the Garden Meadows townsfolk have not adjusted tohaving Priscilla around so much again. She will always be Cilla Cove to them, and it’s a role she slides into effortlessly, taking pictures with them and listening to their stories like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Priscilla!” Jaz calls out, wrapping her in a hug.

“Jazzy,” Priscilla says fondly.

Jaz is in the ensemble with me. Neither of us got a speaking role, which we’ve both found sufficiently funny. We are chorus line soldiers together, in the thick of it, side by side, finally forming the close friendship we didn’t get to have in high school.

“Hello there, Ms. Sinclair,” Dallas says.

Jaz’s jaw drops. “Dallas? What are you doing here? I thought nothing in the world could get you to come see us inGrease.”

“The world doesn’t control me anymore, dear. I’m a free agent now.”

Because of Priscilla, Jaz knows what really happened. After a lot of convincing, she finally believes it, too. It’s been a hell of a time explaining Dallas’s absence to the rest of the world. The official story we’ve all agreed on is that he took a leave of absence when he found out a family member was ill, and he got so flustered he left without any of his belongings. We’ve let the air of mystery carry the lie, reiterating that Dallasdoesn’t want to talk about it. It’s a bit like the Memory Machine itself, in that this explanation does nothing to keep people from prying for information, but Dallas commits to it all the same.

“You know, I think I’ll work on the next show here,” Dallas offers.

Priscilla, Jaz, and I all give him some version of “What?”

“You just said in the car that you didn’t want to run the drama program,” I remind him.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “Community theater is very different,” he says. “And they need me here. I’m good at findingpeople at their lowest. We must overcomeGreaseand revitalize this company. Point me toward your director so I can make some introductions.”