All the Colors of the Dark — Chapter 173

173

Over a month she pinned the photographs to a board and collated names and locations, a little of her father’s madness rubbing off, though she was more ordered and better equipped.

During a July heatwave, as the town of Monta Clare sweated, Patch picked up his paintbrush for the first time in more than a decade. This time he kept ordered hours during the day, made sure he spent time with his daughter, that she practiced at the baby grand that took up much of the den.

And only when she slept did he sketch, and only before she woke did he paint by morning light.

Sammy noticed the color splashed onto Patch’s jeans, the dried shades beneath his nails. He did not ask, did not smile, just breathed a little easier, like he too had found what had seemed lost.

Three girls over six months. Patch spoke with their parents during late- night calls, learning about their lives, their traits and hopes. He could not guess how this background affected the snapshot in time he brought to life, just that knowing them made it easier to find their tone. As another winter drew in the two caught Toy Story at the Alamo, Charlotte declaring it a bullshit kids movie before dabbing at her eyes when Buzz discovered his true identity. Patch noted girls had started dressing like his mother, bell- bottom jeans and long, straight hair.

“The seventies are back,” Charlotte said.

“So I’m finally in fashion again?”

“No.”

Before the lull of the fire Charlotte would lie on her stomach on the thick rug and reply to letters dating back a decade while Patch lined up the

missing girls, each on their own easel, before calling Sammy.

“I have something for you,” he said.

“Finally,” Sammy replied.

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