“Willowcrest HOA.”
“Inspection notice.”
“Possible unauthorized structural change.”
She looked ready to tear the document in half.
“You did this.”
I folded my arms.
“Did you have approval?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It seems exactly like the point.”
“This is harassment.”
“No.”
“This is an HOA inspection.”
“Because you called them!”
“Yes.”
That stopped her.
Apparently she expected denial.
I continued:
“You refused to reimburse me for water you intentionally took.”
“So you attack my house?”
“I reported a rule violation you personally told me about.”
“You promised to keep quiet.”
“I did not promise anything.”
“You kept quiet for two years!”
“Yes.”
“That meant something.”
“It meant I tolerated more than I should have.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“All over a little water.”
“A little water doubled my bill.”
“Oh, please.”
She threw one hand toward her yard.
“You have always made such a production out of utilities.”
I watched her.
She was angry enough to stop thinking.
So I took my phone from my robe pocket.
Opened the camera.
Started recording.
Held it down at my side.
Margaret continued.
“Do you know how ridiculous you sound?”
“Explain it to me.”
“I’ve borrowed water before.”
“How often?”
She scoffed.
“Plenty.”
I said nothing.
That made her fill the silence.
“I used your faucet for the lawn all the time when you and Adrian were married.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, stop acting shocked.”
