Before climbing inside, she said:
“You don’t need to be so territorial.”
The Black Homeowner gave her a look.
She drove away.
He assumed it was done.
The next morning, the SUV was back.
This time farther into the driveway.
The Black Homeowner stood inside the garage and stared at it.
His Wife appeared behind him carrying coffee.
“What?”
He pointed.
She looked.
Then laughed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She parked there again?”
“Yes.”
His Wife stepped outside.
The HOA President was nowhere nearby.
The Wife folded her arms.
“What did she say yesterday?”
“That her SUV gets hot.”
The Wife looked at the forty-degree morning.
“She needs medical attention.”
The Black Homeowner smiled despite himself.
He called again.
The HOA President answered.
“Good morning.”
“Move your SUV.”
She sighed.
“We already discussed this.”
“No.”
“You explained why you want to park there.”
“I told you not to.”
“You said it was private.”
“Yes.”
“I understand that.”
“Then why are you there?”
Her voice became patient.
“Because I’m not hurting anything.”
The Black Homeowner looked toward his Wife.
His Wife silently mouthed:
Wow.
The HOA President continued.
“I’m not blocking both garage bays.”
“You don’t get to decide how much of my driveway I need.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
He lowered his voice.
“Move it.”
She arrived twelve minutes later.
No apology.
That evening, the Black Homeowner installed a small camera facing the driveway.
Not hidden.
Clearly visible.
He already had cameras around the house.
Adding one took fifteen minutes.
The next morning, no SUV.
The morning after that, no SUV.
The Black Homeowner thought the camera had solved the problem.
Then Monday arrived.
At 7:31, his phone sent a motion alert.
He opened the app.
The HOA President’s SUV rolled into his driveway.
She parked.
Stepped out.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then smiled.
Not at the house.
At the camera.
The Black Homeowner watched from his kitchen.
His Wife stood beside him.
“She looked at it.”
“Yes.”
“She knows you’re documenting.”
“Yes.”
“And parked anyway.”
“Yes.”
His Wife took a drink.
“I almost admire the commitment.”
The Black Homeowner did not.
He walked outside.
The HOA President was crossing the street toward her house.
“President.”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Move it.”
She looked at her watch.
“I’m already late.”
“For what?”
“Committee call.”
“Then drive your SUV home.”
She laughed.
“I’ll be forty-five minutes.”
The Black Homeowner’s expression hardened.
“No.”
The HOA President stopped smiling.
He continued.
“This is the last conversation we’re having about it informally.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”