Skaters of all kinds appeared in the photos, which looked like they were maybe from the eighties and nineties. Taking up a large portion of the board were roller derby skaters in packs moving around a banked track—unlike the flat track the teams had been on last night—and team photos of tough-as-hell-looking women with their tongues and middle fingers out. But an equal portion boasted people in old-school roller skates linking arms and skating in long lines, or frozen in agile dance moves.

I could make out from a few of the photos that Joe had been a hunk as a younger dude. Some of these photos showed him contorted in several positions on a roller rink. But he was also in a few of the team derby pics, wearing the same short shorts and tight tank tops, face eager as ever. His lean muscle mass hadn’t changed, but he’d had hair once. A full head of wavy brown hair and a scruffy beard, it seemed. He was the only dude in the photos, and I wondered what his deal was. Coach? Husband? Father? Fan?

Like a pop-up character in a book, he appeared beside me, holding the newly refurbished skates as well as another set of eight wheels in a plastic bag. “Ta-da!”

I jumped a little at his sudden appearance and his burst of speech. “These skates might be previously adored, but they will serve you just as well as any of those fancy-fancy skates you get elsewhere, don’t you worry! And here”—he held up the plastic bag—“are some outdoor wheels. A special bonus for a first-time customer!”

“Wow. Thanks.” I went to take the skates and bag from him, but he switched his attention to the wall before I could.

“You’re perusing my history here, madam!” He leaned forward and peered into a photo of himself with a team of women dressed in faux police uniforms, except with low-cut tops and high-cut shorts.

“Check out these bruiser ladies! The Cop-a-Wheelies! They looked like cops, but acted like hoodlums!”

“Were you their…?” I let the question hang in the air, hoping—knowing—he’d fill in the blank.

“Coach! Well… they didn’t really need a coach, but they let me think they did, and I pretended to know enough to be one!” He chuckled.

Just as I was about to ask how he’d found himself coaching roller derby, a voice called out, “Joe?” from somewhere beyond the garage door.

Joe turned toward the open door and yelled back, “In here, darling! Come join the party!”

A surprising twinge of excitement twisted in my chest. Was I about to meet Joe’s partner? I couldn’t imagine what such a person might be like, and I guess my curiosity got the best of me.