Iola was out in front of the trailer, sitting in a lawn chair. Nod was in her lap. His tail was hanging down, twitching back and forth.

“Here,” said Beverly. She handed Iola a pair of wax lips.

“Thank you, darling,” said Iola. She turned the lips over in her hand, looking at them. “What are they?”

“Lips,” said Beverly.

“What do I do with them?”

“You do this,” said Beverly. She put her pair of lips in her mouth, over her own lips. The wax was sweet and thick.

Iola looked at her and laughed. “Have you ever in your life?” she said. She put her lips on and held very still. Her eyes were huge behind her glasses. She looked like a little lost owl with a very big mouth.

Beverly laughed.

Iola spit the lips out. She said, “I have never before heard you laugh.”

Beverly shrugged. She took the lips off. She said, “I guess I’ve never heard you laugh, either.”

Iola put the lips back on. Beverly couldn’t help it — she started to laugh again.

She could still feel the bird inside of her, flapping its wings. She thought about Elmer. She thought about the angel on the cover of the book, and about the wings on the angel.

She had never seen anything so blue in her life.

She hadn’t known a blue like that existed.

Beverly could smell the ocean. She could hear it. Suddenly, things seemed good and possible in a way that they hadn’t before.

Iola let out a whoop of laughter, and Nod leaped out of her lap and stalked away, tail high.

A door banged. Maureen came out of her trailer and walked toward them, her red hair flaming and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yoo-hoo,” she said. “Is everything all right over here?”

“Yep,” said Beverly.

Iola kept the wax lips in her mouth. She nodded.

Maureen looked at Beverly. She said, “Who are you, anyway? You’re no relative of Iola’s. Seems to me that you are just some con artist trash.”

Whatever had been inside of Beverly flapping its wings stopped and held very still.

Beverly stared at Maureen. She said, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you shut up.”

Iola took the wax lips from her mouth. “This child is my niece,” she said.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” said Maureen. “I’m going to call Tommy Junior and tell him something funny is going on over here.”

“Don’t you dare call Tommy Junior,” said Iola. “I can run my own life. I don’t need Tommy Junior telling me what to do. This child belongs to me. She is my kin. And that’s all there is to it.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Maureen. She turned around and walked back to her trailer.

“Well, shoot,” Iola said after Maureen disappeared. “And here we was having so much fun. Help me up,” she said, holding out her hand to Beverly.

Beverly pulled Iola out of the chair.

“Do you want me to leave?” said Beverly. “I could stay someplace else.”

“I do not want you to leave,” said Iola. “I ain’t going to let Maureen bully me. And besides, where would you go?”

Beverly shrugged.

“Do you think that’s who I am?” Beverly said. “Con artist trash?”

“No,” said Iola.

“You don’t know who I am,” said Beverly.

“That’s not true,” said Iola. “I know exactly who you are.” She looked at Beverly, and then she nodded and walked past her, up the steps into the trailer. She turned and said, “Come on inside and let me make you a tuna melt. It will give me an excuse to use that new toaster.” She smiled.

Beverly didn’t say anything.

“Come on, now,” said Iola. “It will be fine. Everything will be fine.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” said Beverly.

She sat down in the lawn chair.

It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think that anyone had ever said those words to her before.

Beverly looked down at the wax lips in her hand. They were misshapen now, starting to crumble.

She thought about how she should probably write that letter to Raymie.

In a crooked little house by a crooked little sea. It will be fine. It will be fine.

Everything will be fine in the crooked little house by the crooked little sea.

Right.