She slipped a nail from between her lips and looked at him, at his jeans. She rammed the hammer into her belt, and it was the only tool that was going to be intimate with her this day. On Sunday, without fail, they had brunch, drank mimosas, watched TV in her bed, and all he ever talked about was calls he had been on over the weekend, as if she didn’t get enough blood and misery in her life. Raines was a doll, but boring.

“Go rescue somebody and leave me alone,” she suggested to him.

His smile and playfulness fled as rain fell in a curtain from heaven. “What the hell did I do?” he complained.

SIX

West stayed outside in the rain alone, hammering, measuring, and building her fence as if it were a symbol of what she felt about people and life. When her gate opened and shut again at three P.M., she assumed it was Raines trying again. She slammed another nail into wood and felt bad about the way she had treated him. He had meant no harm, and her mood had nothing to do with him, really.

Niles could have done with the same consideration. He was in the window over the kitchen sink, looking out at his owner in a flood. She was swinging something that looked like it might hurt Niles if he got in her way. Niles had been minding his own business earlier, walking in circles, kneading the covers, finding just the right warm spot to settle on his owner’s chest. Next thing, he was an astronaut, a circus acrobat shot out of a cannon. It was just a darn good thing he could land on his feet. He stared through streaming water at someone entering the yard from the north. Niles, the watch cat, had never seen this person, not once in his ancient feline life.

• • •

Brazil was aware of a skinny cat watching him from a window as he trespassed and West hammered, calling out to someone named Raines.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” she was saying. “I’m in this mood.”

Brazil carried three thick Sunday papers wrapped in a dry-cleaning bag he had found in his closet. “Apology accepted,” he said.

West wheeled around and fixed him in her sights, hammer mid-swing. “What the hell are you doing here?” She was startled and taken aback and did her best to sound hateful.

“Who’s Raines?” Brazil got closer, his tennis shoes getting soaked.

“None of your damn business.” She started hammering as her heart did.

He was suddenly shy and tentative in the rain as he got closer. “I brought you some extra papers. Thought you might . . .”

“You didn’t ask me.” She hammered. “You didn’t give me a warning. Like you have some right to investigate my life.” She bent a nail and clumsily pried it out. “Ride around all night. The whole time you’re a spy.”

She stopped what she was doing to look at him. He was soaked and dejected, wanting her to be pleased. He had given her the best he knew.