Scout sat without being told. Evelyn liked dogs and dogs liked Evelyn. She had brought cookies the first week they moved in and had never once asked Reggie to fix anything for free, which he respected more than she knew.
"You just get off?" she asked, nodding at the jacket.
"About forty minutes ago. Had to reset a thermostat in the Oakridge model. Someone left a window open and the system threw a fit."
"Those model houses," she said, shaking her head. "Always looking perfect and always falling apart somewhere you can't see."
He almost laughed. Almost.
Evelyn shifted the grocery bag. "Your brother left already?"
Reggie's fingers tightened on the leash without his permission. Scout's ears flicked.
"My brother?"
She blinked, still friendly, still unaware. "The tall guy. Comes over when you work nights. I waved at him this afternoon from the mailbox. He was getting into a dark truck."
The orange sky did not change. The sprinklers kept stuttering. Somewhere a garage door hummed shut. Reggie heard all of it the way a person heard the ocean after the wave had already knocked them down.
"I don't have a brother," he said.
Evelyn's smile thinned, then collapsed into awkward confusion. Her eyes did a small search of his face, looking for the joke, then for the misunderstanding, then for a place to put her own words that would not sound like an accusation.
"Oh," she said. "I just—he looked like he knew the house. I assumed. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"It's all right."
It was not all right. His voice had gone flat in a way that surprised even him. Evelyn clutched her keys harder. Scout stood, sensing the change in the leash line, and pressed his shoulder lightly against Reggie's shin.
"Well," Evelyn said, too brightly. "Tell Sondra I said hello. And—good night."
"Good night."