Page 122 of Yes No Maybe

“And rebuilding your houses together,” Tom adds as the rest cheer.

“I’ll send a text alert. Does a half-hour work for everyone?” Rose prompts her phone.

I lock eyes with Jack, looking curious. “For what?”

“To start working. Whenever there’s storm damage, the neighborhood comes together to help clear out debris, salvage what we can, and secure the holes and gaps.”

“Took us a week for Hurricane Florence,” Vernon says. “Went house to house like the Amish with barn razing.”

“Ask that everyone brings work gloves. Wheelbarrows and tarps if they’ve got ‘em,” Ed instructs Rose as she types. “I’ll secure trucks and trailers—we’ll have much to tote away.”

Vernon holds up the camera strapped to his neck. “I’ll start documenting.”

The group disbands to complete their assignments. Jack jumps on his phone, pacing our lots as he describes the damage to the insurance adjuster.

Inside, I care for the cats, grateful that Edgar and Harper are getting along. I text Mom, Mira, and Sara to tell them what’s happened. I learn that Mira and Sara are fine—no damage to their places. They promise to help when they’re able. Then, I dress in sensible work clothes and join the crowd assembled outside.

Everyone shows up to help. Neighbors from Daisy Lane and Daffodil Avenue. Mira, Jane, and family. Sara and her father, Eddie, bring his lawn care truck and supplies to help cut the tree into manageable pieces before loading his truck and taking the debris away. He promises to help with my lawn and overrun garden beds when the madness calms down.

The news of our storm damage spreads, and by lunchtime, my students arrive—four or five packed in each car with the music blaring as they come down the road. They park along the street and get out wearing work boots and gloves.

I meet them in the driveway. “You’re here?”

Julio grins. “Heard you could use some help with the little house.”

“Mr. Graham’s house, too,” Mia adds quickly.

“I’m totally getting service hours for this,” Ashley announces, “but I want to help, anyway.”

Eddie shrugs. “You’ve fixed enough of my problems. Remember the pimple from hell? I owe you.”

“Thanks, guys! That’s awesome!”

Jack comes over and says, “Holy shit! The party has arrived! Perfect timing, too. I just ordered a hundred pizzas.”

We FaceTime with Mom and Reggie over our makeshift neighborhood picnic. Tom asks what I plan to do with the little house.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll put it back the way it was.”

Jack shakes his head before I finish the sentence. “No, Rowan. Upgrades are the only upside to storm damage.”

Tom’s arms fold over his bulky frame. “He’s right. If you don’t upgrade, Mother Nature wins.”

“I’m upgrading the hell out of everything,” Jack says.

Tom claps his hands together and hoots like he’s just won tickets to his favorite sporting event. “We’ll use my senior discount at Lowe’s and Ace. A wraparound porch would be nice.”

“That’s already on my shortlist,” Jack says.

“I’d love a gazebo,” Marcy says dreamily. “People don’t have gazebos anymore.”

“Vernon and I will binge-watch HGTV for design trends,” Rose says. “Will you let me help with the paint colors?”

Jack’s eyes narrow with obvious skepticism. “I’ll consider it.”

“I can help with that… and any artistic projects you want,” Sara says. “I’ve always wanted to do a mural.”

Rose questions Sara about murals while Marcy and Tom launch into a gazebo discussion. Mom and Reggie voice their opinions on gazebos—they’re split. Deep in conversation with them, Vernon takes over my phone, moving it across the debris-filled lawn as they discuss the pros and cons of gazebos.

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