Of course.
Karen rarely scheduled complaints.
That would have given people time to prepare facts.
She knocked twice.
I opened the door.
“Morning.”
“Thomas.”
She held a folder.
“What did my panels do now?”
Karen did not smile.
“We've had complaints.”
“About?”
“Electrical instability.”
That caught my attention.
“What kind?”
“Lights dimming.”
“Breaker trips.”
“Several residents have reported outages.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“Over the last month.”
“And you're telling me now?”
“The board was gathering information.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
She looked toward the south field.
“Your equipment.”
I waited.
Karen continued.
“The board believes your solar installation may be creating voltage problems inside Cedar Hollow.”
I almost laughed.
Then realized she was serious.
“My system is interconnected through the utility-approved service point.”
“It doesn't feed Cedar Hollow’s internal neighborhood circuits.”
“You don't know that.”
I stared at her.
“Yes.”
“I do.”
Karen shifted.
“Several homes have had problems.”
“That doesn't make my array the cause.”
“The timing lines up.”
“What timing?”
She hesitated.
That was the first odd moment.
“Production fluctuations.”
“Whose production data are you looking at?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You said the timing lines up with production fluctuations.”
“My production data are private.”
Karen recovered.
“Residents have observed the panels.”
I laughed.
“Karen, nobody can look at panels from the road and tell what my inverter output is.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
“I don't.”
She became irritated.
“Whenever your solar system behaves differently, we hear complaints.”
I put my coffee down.
“Behaves differently how?”
She realized too late that she had said too much.
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
I watched her.
“Karen.”
“This is simple.”
“No.”
“It stopped being simple.”
“How would you know when my system changes operating state?”
She looked toward the driveway.
“I don't personally monitor it.”
“Then who does?”
“The board receives information.”
“From where?”
“That isn't the point.”
“It is now.”
Karen shifted the folder under her arm.
“Look.”
“We're asking you to have your installer verify that your system is not interfering with neighborhood service.”
I stared at her another second.
Then nodded.
“That’s reasonable.”
The answer surprised her.
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“If people have actual electrical problems, I want them investigated.”
“I have scheduled maintenance today at two.”
“My technician will already be here.”
“Good.”
Karen relaxed slightly.
“He can check.”
“I’ll ask him.”
She nodded.
“Fine.”
Then she added:
“And the board still expects additional screening around the western side.”
I closed the door.
At 1:40 that afternoon, Daniel Ortega arrived.
Daniel was the senior technician from Sunridge Energy who had commissioned the system two years earlier.
Forty-three.
Calm.
Methodical.