“Fair enough. Well, let me introduce you to Mr. MAC.” Roe sits on the edge of the bed, and I start working on him. I smudge coffee-colored shadow across his eyes, then draw inky lines across the lids, trying my best to flick upward. I remember Michelle boring us all about “cat eyes” at school. Roe, though — he actually looks like a cat. I let him put on his own mascara because I’m too afraid of poking him in the eye. I dab a tiny bit of pearly highlighter on his cheekbones so they glow when he catches the light.
