Page 25 of Yes No Maybe

Jack leans into me at the song’s dramatic conclusion, forcing an awkward dip to close it out that has me laughing harder than I have in a long time. He brings me to my feet in a flourish that receives applause from Rose, Vernon, and others watching nearby.

The microphone screeches as Tom approaches it, and his radio announcer’s monotone says, “Come get your oysters, ya’ll.”

A mass migration ensues as partygoers flock toward the oysters steaming on the newspaper tables. I linger where we are and feel relieved when Jack stays, too. Despite our differences, he’s put me at ease in the strangest way, like we’re unlikely animal friends in an Instagram post.

Amid the chaos, he says, “Another beer?”

“There you are!” A shrill voice cuts through my answer, which would’ve been yes. Renita beelines toward me through the migrating crowd, wobbling precariously on her high wedges.

“Shit,” Jack says under his breath as she corners us. Renita is at least in her fifties, but she’s so finely made-up that she looks younger—a solid testament to her Mary Kay business. Her hands give her away, though, showing her years like rings around tree stumps. She holds what looks like a margarita slushy in one hand while she animatedly extends her other to me.

“I’m Renita Dabney. Ed and I live at 412 Daisy. You’re Rowan!” Her loudness doesn’t hide her slight slur.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Renita.” I shake her hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” She wags a bright red fingernail. “Saw you dancing with our Jack here. He’s such a handsome devil, right? If I weren’t married, I’ll tell you what—”

“Yikes, Renita,” he says. “How many of those have you had?”

“Oh, honey. That’s not the drink talking… She knows what I’m talking about.”

I glance at him playfully. “He’s not bad… if you like moody-writer-types.”

Renita slaps her bare knee in laughter, sloshing her beverage.

“How about those beers?” His hand goes to my elbow to lead me away.

Only Renita grabs my hand. With a sweet but critical look, she takes in my face. I try to escape her, but any pull might cause her to lose her balance, and I don’t want to see her fall over.

“I’ve wanted to meet you, honey. I can help you with your features, you know.”

“Renita!” His stern voice only makes her scoff.

“Jack, this is girl talk. Make yourself scarce.” She continues her awkward stare. “Have you tried Mary Kay? We have a line of concealers made for people like you.”

People like me.Her words close me up like a flower under a hot sun. I glance about for my scarf but don’t find it. I force a weak smile. “I’m okay with my… features. Heavy makeup clumps and never looks good on me.”

She grunts. “You haven’t triedmymake-up. I bet I can make you look almost normal—”

“Um—”

“—I hear you’re gettin’ married. You don’t want anything to mess up those wedding pictures.” She casts me a sympathetic look. “You’re a beauty. Don’t you want the world to see that instead of, well,that?” She motions to the side of my face before lighting up again. “We should schedule a makeover!”

“God damn it! Nobody wants your fucking makeover, Renita,” Jack snaps louder than necessary.

His harshness stuns us both. Renita back-steps, nearly tripping over her wedges. He catches her by the arm to hold her up and snatches the drink from her hand.

“Wait, don’t…” I say, but he’s already marching her toward her husband, Ed.

“Shit,” I mutter before leaving.

Edgar Allan Poe is glad to have me home early. He meows on the other side of the door as soon as my key jiggles the lock. Inside, I scoop him to my shoulder and take comfort in his welcoming purrs. We plop together on the living room rug, where he saunters around me, rubbing his face on my hand and curling his tail high. I loved Edgar the moment I saw him in the humane society’s cat room—hunched into a loaf in the corner, watching the other, bigger cats with anxiety pinched on his pitch-black brow.

“Aren’t black cats unlucky?” Mira had asked when the family came over to meet him.

“Only in their adoption rates.” I’d shared how they are the least likely to get adopted because of their less-photogenic color and unlucky reputation.

Always ready to jump on a cause, Mira and the family adopted two black cats the following week.

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