“Hey!” Neale shouts after them. “Hold on for just a sec.” She raises her index finger, then gets up and goes inside and is back with her wallet. She pulls out a couple of twenties and pats them onto the father’s palm. Both parents look at the money and nod, then leave. Cate knows how improvident this is, given the financial situation of someone who owns a yoga studio and cannot count on as much as she’d like for support from an ex-husband who lives in Pondicherry, where he has put aside material concerns. But it’s no good scolding someone for her generosity.

Neale looks in the bowl. “They’ve cleaned us out of candy. I’ll go get more.” She ducks just inside the front door and grabs what’s left in the bag of Snickers, dumps it all into the bowl, setting the hand off on its entire litany of proclamations.

THANK you!!!! Trick or treat, hahahahaha!!!!

Come here, take some candeee!!!!

The flow of trick-or-treaters starts to wind down. The hand screeches on. It seems to be on a roll—maybe there’s a short in the circuitry. The two of them stare at the hand as though it’s a hysterical friend, and then Neale reaches underneath and switches off the bowl. Now seems like a good time for Cate to bring up the matter of Maureen and Maureen’s sister.

“So, you know—Maureen?”

“Well actually, I don’t. And I think I’m going to need to sometime soon. Give her the gimlet eye.”

“Right. We need to set up something.”

“What? What were you going to say about her?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, really.” Nonetheless, after a little more holding off, she winds up spilling the beans. She’s using Neale as a litmus test. She’s the most principled person Cate knows. So it’s surprising when Neale says, “Oh, that’s nothing. That taboo was put in so people didn’t have babies with pinheads. I think when it’s between sisters, it’s not really a problem.”

“Really?” Cate says, so grateful.

“No, not ‘really’! What are you even saying? She had sex with her sister? For years?!”

“Well, only a couple, I think. Years.”

“The sister who’s a weaver?”

“Quilter.”

“Oh well then, okay.”

“It probably took care of that boring lull after holiday dinners,” Cate says.

“She never should have told you.”

“Well, I’m meeting her tomorrow, the sister. She’s in town. We’re all going out for tea.”

“Nice. Very Jane Austen.” Neale stands to look at a house down the block, which still has creepy fog rolling out its front windows and door. “I know this goes against reason, but I felt better about you when you were with Dana.”

“You were totally against it! Remember? ‘Afflicting someone’s relationship.’ ‘The sleazy nature of an affair.’ ”