I walked into my garage. Sandra’s Lexus was parked neatly. She’d even left an inch of space on either side as though she was being considerate. On the passenger seat, I could see her binder. Of course, the binder was in the car. It was probably always in the car.
I walked back out. I went inside my house. I made myself dinner. I slept.
On Saturday morning, I called a contractor I’d worked with before, a guy named Marcus who did home improvement work and was extremely good at what he did. I explained what I needed. He laughed, then said he could do it, then asked if I was serious, and I said yes, completely serious. He said he’d need a few days to get the materials and could start on Tuesday.
I said, “Perfect.”
On Sunday, I walked next door to Sandra’s house and knocked on her door. She answered looking faintly surprised to see me, then quickly rearranged her expression into something more neutral.
“Daniel,” she said, “you’re back.”
“Got back Friday night,” I said pleasantly. “I noticed your car is still in my garage.”
“Yes, I hope that’s all right. My driveway resealing ran a bit longer than expected. I should have the car out by Monday afternoon.”
“No rush,” I said. “Take your time. How’s the driveway looking?”
She blinked, clearly surprised by my lack of confrontation. “It’s coming along well, thank you.”
“Great,” I said. “Just wanted to check in. Have a good Sunday.”
And I walked back to my house. She didn’t know it yet, but that was the last normal conversation we were ever going to have.
On Monday, I was working from home and Sandra’s car stayed in my garage. Monday afternoon became Monday evening. She didn’t move it. That was fine. I wasn’t in a hurry.
On Tuesday, Marcus arrived with his crew at 8:00 a.m. Sandra’s car was still in my garage. Marcus looked at the car. He looked at me. “You sure about this?” he said.
“Extremely sure.” I said.
“All right.” he said, and he and his crew got to work.
What they were doing wasn’t complicated technically. My garage had a standard roll-up door on the front, the door Sandra had used to park her car inside. That door was in normal operation, accessible from the outside via keypad, and from inside via a button on the wall and a remote.
What Marcus was doing was installing an additional security measure. Specifically, a heavy-duty steel drop bar system on the inside of the door. The kind used in commercial warehouses, which when lowered made the door physically impossible to open from either direction without removing the bar first. It wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t damaging. It was just a security upgrade to my private structure that was entirely within my rights as a homeowner. According to Article 9, Section 2 of the Maplewood Estates HOA bylaws.
