A city truck.
The Building Inspector stepped out carrying a tablet.
The HOA President immediately moved toward him.
“Thank goodness.”
The Black Homeowner took another drink.
The Inspector looked confused.
The HOA President pointed.
“This project is under dispute.”
The Inspector looked toward the patio.
“Permit number?”
The Black Homeowner gave it.
The Inspector opened the file.
The HOA President continued.
“This homeowner removed a functioning driveway without community authorization.”
The Inspector looked at her.
“Are you the property owner?”
“No.”
“Contractor?”
“No.”
“Design professional?”
“No.”
“Then give me a minute.”
The Black Homeowner nearly choked on his coffee.
The Inspector walked the project.
Measured.
Checked elevations.
Drainage.
Steps.
Retaining-wall height.
Permeable paving.
Setback.
He asked the contractor questions.
Reviewed photographs from earlier inspections.
The HOA President followed several feet behind, offering commentary nobody requested.
Finally, the Inspector stood near the porch.
He tapped the tablet.
Then printed a small sheet from a portable printer in his truck.
He handed it to the Black Homeowner.
FINAL APPROVED.
The HOA President stared.
“No.”
The Inspector looked at her.
“What?”
“You cannot approve this while association objections remain.”
The Inspector answered:
“We enforce municipal building requirements.”
“Private association disputes are separate.”
She looked toward the Committee Chair.
He raised his clipboard.
“Association already approved it.”
The HOA President’s face lost color.
That should have been the climax.
Then the black airport SUV turned onto the street.
It pulled up in front of the house.
The driver stepped out.
Opened the rear hatch.
The Black Homeowner’s Wife walked inside.
Returned carrying two suitcases.
The HOA President watched.
“What is that?”
The Black Homeowner looked toward the vehicle.
“Ride.”
“Where are you going?”
His Wife returned with a garment bag.
The Black Homeowner smiled.
“Portugal.”
The HOA President stared.
“What?”
“Portugal.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Three weeks.”
The HOA President looked at the patio.
Then at him.
Then at the final approval sheet.
“You cannot leave while this is unresolved.”
The Black Homeowner smiled.
“What’s unresolved?”
“This.”
She pointed wildly.
“The driveway.”
“What driveway?”
That finally broke his Wife.
She doubled over laughing.
The HOA President stared at both of them.
The Black Homeowner took one last sip.
“You parked in my driveway one hundred three times.”
Her expression froze.
“You counted?”
“Every one.”
“That's insane.”
“Documented.”
He held up the folder.
“Date.”
“Time.”
“Duration.”
“Video.”
“Letters.”
“Attorney notice.”