Around the corner of the garage door appeared said person. She looked to be about Joe’s age and wore a shiny teal tracksuit. Her graying hair was shaped into a short Afro close to her scalp. On her feet were plush pink slippers. She must have been only about five feet tall, but her perfect posture made her seem taller. My eyes darted from one feature to the next. Curves. Many curves. Skin darker than mine. Cat-eye glasses. Pastel-pink press-on nails.

Behind her, I heard the telltale thump-step of Bee and Yolanda and their walking aids. The two appeared alongside Joe’s partner shortly after, gleaming in sequined bodysuits. My mouth fell open.

Bee’s face expanded into a bright smile when she saw me, and she exclaimed, “Daya, dollface! Sorry to keep ya waitin’. It took Alma here a little longer than we thought to get us into these beauties. Nothin’ like a little dress-up!” She indicated Yolanda’s and her attire. Yolanda looked less thrilled about her attire than Bee did.

“Oh, that’s okay. It was worth the wait,” I said, meaning it. That sent Bee and Alma into a titter, which actually made me feel kind of awesome.

Joe piped up with, “Hello, my darling! Up to your usual antics, I see!”

“Hello, sweetheart,” Alma said, gliding across the garage toward us. She extended her hand out in front of her. “A customer! How lovely.” Her voice emerged deep and resonant from glossy pink lips.

I hesitated and then received her hand with my own. She held it carefully. Without letting go, she said, “As already mentioned, my name is Alma. Pardon my appearance. I’ve just showered and didn’t have time to get into my jumpsuit. And you are Daya.” She said this last part like she’d known it all along.

Nothing about her appearance suggested any special elegance, but the way she spoke reminded me of one of those actresses in black-and-white movies—all graceful and dignified.

“Yes. Daya.” These two words were about all I could get out at the moment. All this felt like a lot of stimulation. Priam and Vicki would love these people, which made me a little wary of them. But like Bee and Yolanda, at least their enthusiasm was aimed at something amazing and fierce like roller derby.

“I hope Joe is treating you magnificently.”

“He—he is. I think we found some skates for me.” She still had my hand in hers and now added her other hand around mine. Usually this kind of contact would make me twitchy, but I found her steady hold somehow soothing in all the surrounding animation.

“Well, that’s fine, then, isn’t it!” She looked at Joe and he beamed back, his chest puffing out just a little more. To me, she leaned in and conspiratorially added, “He’s a wonder, isn’t he?”

I couldn’t help but smile.