HOA Karen Gave Me The Middle Finger — She Paled When She Found Out I Was The New Chief Of Police

HOA Karen Gave Me The Middle Finger — She Paled When She Found Out I Was The New Chief Of Police

Chapter 5

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"Good. Those things pile up, people know you're gone." He put his hat on. "That's how they get you."

When we pulled into Plover Lane, there was a sheet of white paper tucked under the windshield wiper of the Diplomat, which I'd left in my driveway, as I had told Marcella Vasbinder I would. It was a printed form on Bittern Ridge HOA letterhead, headed NOTICE OF COVENANT VIOLATION, with three boxes checked: Prohibited vehicle (Art. VII, Sec. 3). Vehicle in visible disrepair (Art. VII, Sec. 3(b)). Moving vehicle on premises after 8:00 p.m. (Art. VII, Sec. 5). At the bottom, under Remarks, someone had written in neat blue ballpoint: Owner was argumentative and refused to comply. Photos on file. First notice. Fines begin at $100/day after 10 days.

It was signed M. Vasbinder, President.

Daddy read it over my shoulder. He put on his reading glasses to do it, which took a while. "They'll fine you for a truck?"

"Apparently."

"Hm." He took his glasses off and folded them. "That woman on the corner. Visor." He nodded up the street. She was out on her front walk with a hose, watering a bed of red and white impatiens with tremendous concentration, and not looking at us at all. "She's been watching since we pulled in."

That's the thing about my father. You never knew which parts of the world he'd lost track of and which he'd caught.

"She's the HOA president," I said.

"Postmaster of the block," he said, and laughed, and went inside to find his recliner.

I spent Sunday afternoon calling around about places to park the Diplomat and found a self-storage lot out on Route 9 that rented open spaces for sixty dollars a month. On Monday morning I drove it out there, left it under a sycamore tree, and Jerome drove me back in my Honda, which I'd had towed down on a dolly. It was a sensible gray Accord with a hundred and sixty thousand miles and a cracked bumper. I parked it in the garage. I photographed the empty driveway with my phone, with the date showing, and I emailed the photograph to the address on the HOA notice, with a polite note saying the vehicle had been relocated and asking that the notice be closed.

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HOA Karen Gave Me The Middle Finger — She Paled When She Found Out I Was The New Chief Of Police

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