Elizabeth continued to growl and moan. She put the microphone between her teeth, got down on her hands and knees, and crawled across the floor. The crowd parted ways to make room for her. There was a lot of cheering and whooping. Tupper reappeared with a full pint of Guinness in his hand.

“Oooh,” Elizabeth cooed on all fours. She seemed to enjoy the spotlight.

Tupper chugged his Guinness.

Elizabeth was aware of the fact that she was dominating the room. She reminded herself that tonight was not meant to be exclusively about her; it was meant to be about the neighborhood. She pointed at Peaches, signaling her to change the music.

“Say what?” Peaches screeched into the extra microphone.

Roy was relieved to hear “Love Shack” begin without him.

Manfred danced around Peaches with a tambourine while Peaches banged on the bongos and sang.

“Funky little shack!”

Then Stuart Little joined in. He rolled up his T-shirt sleeves and grabbed a mic, his mouse tattoos in full force.

“Glitter on the mattress,” he sang, waggling his shoulders a little too enthusiastically at the school nurse.

An extremely handsome silver-haired gentleman wearing a crisp white shirt, dark denim jeans, and expensive-looking brown suede loafers danced groovily nearby, flashing his Rolex watch.

Roy glanced at Stuart’s wife. She sat alone in a chair, eating a plate of Wendy’s snacks and staring at her phone.

“Gabby, my other friend from work, is here somewhere,” Wendy shouted at Roy through the din. She felt ridiculous for not telling him about Enjoy!. “There’ve been some staff changes recently,” she began, but she could tell he couldn’t hear her.

Roy didn’t know why Wendy was even attempting to hold a normal conversation. The bar was far too noisy. Besides, he’d drunk too much lager.

“Would you excuse me for a minute?” he said, and slipped away.

Greg pulled off his headphones and observed silently from the door as Peaches sang and banged on the bongos, her voice slightly out of tune, her drumming slightly behind the beat. His sensitive ears rang with the feedback from the speakers. “Love Shack” was Peaches’ favorite song. Hearing her sing it, karaoke style, with Stuart Little from the Blind Mice, in a bar full of strangers was perplexing though. It felt like a display of dissatisfaction, restlessness, and ennui. She was showing off, flirting outrageously, overcompensating for being nervous, getting louder by the minute.

Greg thought things were better now that she’d chosen a career and was out of the house, away from her notebooks full of unfinished short stories, broken drumsticks, and partial to-do lists. He thought she was past this—whatever this was.

“Bang bang, on the door baby!” Peaches and Stuart Little shouted gleefully into the same mic. When had she gotten so chummy with Stuart Little?