Chapter 11 - Everybody's Money
I went to the clubhouse carrying Dana's invoices in a cheap folder. Ben asked me to wait in the hall while the board consulted its attorney by phone. I stood beneath a photograph of the community's first tree-planting day, all smiling neighbors in matching T-shirts.
Cynthia emerged twenty minutes later. “The association disputes your claim of unauthorized entry. The contractor's insurer will examine the damage.”
“I want the tree made safe. And I want the board to tell residents what was approved.”
“Insurance takes time.”
“Then stop pretending you can fix this by refusing to discuss it.”
Ben came out behind her. “We can authorize interim safety work while liability is sorted. That's the proposal.”
Cynthia looked at him as if he'd betrayed her. “From which account?”
“The maintenance reserve.”
“That belongs to everyone.”
“So does the trail,” Helen said from the doorway.
She had arrived without telling me. In one hand she held her cane; in the other, her original complaint. Pilar brought her a chair, but Helen chose to stand long enough to explain the raised paving and the fruit in her own words.
“Your staff asked me what might have caused it,” she said. “I told them two things. Nobody checked the pavement. You checked the tree.”
Cynthia's chin lifted. “We took prompt action on a reported hazard.”
“You took prompt action on the part you wanted to,” Helen answered.
The board approved temporary safety measures for my yard by a three-to-two vote, without deciding who would ultimately pay. Ben told me it wasn't a settlement. I said I knew.
When the homeowners heard that association money might cover the damage, several were angry with me. Roger stopped by the fence and said he didn't see why his dues should save my tree. I told him I didn't like paying for mistakes either.
But that night, while I made copies of the invoices, I saw a notice for an upcoming neighborhood budget meeting. The same reserve account had been scheduled to pay for repainting the clubhouse benches. The cracked trail pavement had no repair date.
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Ellie read over my shoulder. “Don't turn this into another Facebook war.”
“I won't.” I closed the laptop. “I'll ask the people who made the budget to explain it.”
