In the face of anger, any anger, Neil's first reaction is always to placate. To apologize and agree that it's his error that caused the situation. But there isn't an error--he said the truth, and he doesn't know why she's angry, which is a common enough thread in Neil's life.

He takes a step back, and starts the voice to text on his phone. He knows he'll have to fix a word or two, but it's mostly good with his precise, prep school enunciations.

"I'm not making a joke. His name's Beau. Mercutio Beau, Mercy Beau, just Beau. My friend named him. He was from Louisiana. He's gone now."

Neil makes sure that everything looks right and is spelled correctly, and then sort of shoves the text reading what he said in her face, taking another urgent shuffle back. At his feet, Beau moves in between them. He doesn't growl or bark. There's just seventy pound of red spotted Terrier between them, protecting them from each other.