Page 11 of Yes No Maybe

I sigh, unable to argue. Behind us, another carload of generous teenagers with nothing to do on a Saturday pulls in, bringing extra hands, and Edgar Allan Poe, my long-haired black cat, looking stressed in his carrier.

He meows frantically when we lock eyes as if saying, “You let me ride withthem?”

Mia Danvers hands him over with a short smile. “I don’t think Edgar likes car rides, Ms. Mackey.”

“Thanks for letting him tag along. And thanks to everyone for volunteering to help. It’s much more fun doing this with you than movers.”

“Cheaper, too,” Julio says, grinning.

“Much cheaper, but I’ve got a cooler full of sodas, snacks, and pizza on the way.” My teaching career has taught me that students are more willing to work when pizza’s involved. Hoots and claps precede the students jumping to action. The truck door rolls open with a screeching slap. Ashley supervises them into an assembly line to start unloading.

Julio grabs a box labeled Edgar’s supplies and follows me inside. The small laundry room offers a quiet space for Edgar to hang out away from the chaos. Julio helps me arrange his litter box, water, food, and a plush bed.

His forehead creases with soft lines. “My grandfather says that if you’re unsure about your answer, then maybe it’s the wrong question.”

An internal sigh slumps my shoulders. Nearly a month’s gone by since the proposal, and no one but Dean has mentioned myyes, no, maybeanswer. Not to me, anyway. It was all anyone could talk about after it happened. Dean and I surfed the gossip wave professionally, but it created more tension at school and between us.

“I’m sure about my answer now. At the time, I was nervous.”

“Mr. Maddix told us his plan before the show. I should’ve warned you.”

“But it was meant to be a surprise. No need to worry. He asked the right question. I messed up my answer, but I fixed it—I am fixing it.”

Julio seems unconvinced but nods anyway. “And next year’s Inspiration Project? Will we team up with Mr. Maddix again?”

The second-most talked-about thing at Coastal High School has been me and Dean’s joint Inspiration Project. Dr. Evelyn Tate took full credit for our play’s success and doubled the pressure on us for next year. Curious students like Julio added more pressure. As their AP English teacher for their junior and senior years, I needed an even better plan than our Shakespeare reboot to meet their high expectations.

“Um, no. He’s teaming up with the history department for aHamilton-style musical,” I report, trying to sound excited. “I’ll go solo this year, but I don’t have a plan yet.”

His eyes widen in shock. “You without a plan? That’s a first.”

I release Edgar as we hear a loud “Ms. Mackey!”

Clipboard in hand, Ashley awaits me outside the laundry room. “The guest bathroom toilet won’t flush. Guests have arrived, and a cute, old couple is wandering around with a bottle of wine.”

As she speaks, I slide the clipboard away from her and retrieve my laminated sign.Keep closed. Cat inside.I affix it to the laundry room door with Scotch tape in my pocket. Then, remembering what my mom advised last night over FaceTime, I take one thing at a time.

The toilet handle hangs loose in the pink-tiled bathroom. The chain has broken, which means a trip to Lowe’s. I create a new sign.Out of Order.

In the backyard, Mira’s kids take turns on the rope swing dangling from a blooming magnolia tree. Jane watches with baby Aster in her arms while Mira nudges my shoulder.

“Grandpa Ro would love this house. I can almost see him here, lugging his toolbox and looking for things to fix.”

I laugh. “Me, too. I already have a bum toilet, so he’d have his first assignment.”

“Well, how ‘about me? Where do you want me?”

“Don’t forget me,” Kenan says, leaving the swing to his sisters.

“Technology setup?”

Kenan salutes, and we head through the sliding glass doors to the living room. We stop short at the small, stunned crowd gathered around the fireplace, including Rose and Vernon McGinty from across the street.

“What’s wrong?”

“Shh. Listen,” Julio says.

Scratching follows gentle cries and rustling from inside the brick fireplace.

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