“What’s the matter, my dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The man known as William Grisham grinned, the sides of his jovial eyes crinkling. “I can’t say I blame you, I’ve been losing so much weight I’m practically turning into one. Pretty soon I’m going to disappear completely.” He chuckled, still a lover of self-deprecating humor despite his debilitating condition. “Want a sure fire way to lose those stubborn extra pounds? Get morbidly sick!” He chortled, his chest heaving and wheezing as he did so. By the main entrance of the balcony, his private nurse stood watch and observed quietly, ready to jump in and assist her patient if necessary.

The man was laughing hard at his own bad joke, Bette didn’t know whether to laugh along with him or keep silent. What was the polite thing to do anyway? If she laughed, it would seem insensitive. If she didn’t, she would rob the man of the sympathy that he was clearly craving for. In the end, and with no better options, she just smiled. 

“I’m sorry,” William apologized when his exhaustive laughter had began to subside, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Laughter is the best medicine you see.” He offered a slight shrug and a tiny smile as an explanation. “And to tell you frankly, its the only medicine that doesn’t make me feel like vomiting my insides out.”

Guilty for at least not trying to laugh with him, Bette looked down at her feet.

William pointed at the lighter in her hands. “You smoke now?” He questioned, his expression turning sour and disapproving. “You shouldn’t. Believe me, it can kill you.” He warned, his hand resting on his stomach, motioning to his thin, sickly body.

Lung cancer, Bette remembered now. And last time she heard, it was spreading to his other organs very fast. “Oh.. I don’t smoke.” Bette found her voice and finally responded. “I was just..” She began but then trailed off, deciding it was easier to show him instead of explaining herself. So with purposeful movements, she took out the tiny white candle that she had inside her suit pocket and showed it to the man. Almost immediately, William’s eyebrows flew to his forehead in surprise. They exchanged meaningful, loaded glances. No words were needed. With just one look, everything was revealed. They were here for the same exact reason. Bette was no gullible fool; she knew, despite years of appearing not to give a damn, that William remembered what had happened on this very day six years ago. He knew the significance of the candle and just who it was for. And judging from the surprise in his eyes, he’s probably wondering why Bette was here and what she knew about the whole tragedy. But in spite of this, he gave her the space to do her thing in peace. He stood by and watched silently. His questions, though plenty, could wait.