She interpreted her HOA position as something much larger than it actually was.
She believed the neighborhood belonged to the people who had lived there longest.
She believed residents should ask her permission before making visible changes to their homes.
And she particularly disliked newcomers who arrived with expensive cars, fashionable clothing, and no apparent interest in seeking her approval.
The new Black homeowner offended her almost immediately.
Not because she'd broken a rule.
Because she looked completely comfortable.
The woman stepped out of her sedan wearing an elegant taupe suit, oversized amber sunglasses, black leather gloves, and a beautiful designer handbag.
Her platinum-blonde hair fell over her shoulders.
A moving company was unloading furniture near the garage.
Several workers carried boxed decorations toward the front door.
The homeowner spoke calmly with them.
Then handed one worker a bottle of water.
The HOA president slowed her SUV.
She stared.
Then pulled toward the curb.
The homeowner noticed.
The older woman lowered the window.
“Excuse me!”
The homeowner turned.
“Good morning.”
The HOA president looked her over.
“Are you working here?”
The younger woman paused.
“I'm sorry?”
“Are you the decorator?”
The homeowner smiled politely.
“No.”
The older woman glanced toward the moving truck.
“Housekeeper?”
The smile disappeared.
“No.”
The HOA president frowned.
“Then who are you?”
The homeowner looked toward the red-brick house.
Then answered.
“The owner.”
The older woman stared.
For a moment, she seemed unable to process the answer.
Then she gave a short laugh.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You purchased this property?”
“I did.”
The president looked toward the expensive handbag.
Then back at the woman.
“Well, I wasn't informed.”
The homeowner remained calm.
“Of what?”
“The sale.”
The younger woman raised an eyebrow.
“The sale was recorded through the ordinary closing process.”
The HOA president's expression tightened.
“I'm the president of this community.”
The homeowner nodded.
“Nice to meet you.”
The older woman didn't smile.
She stepped out of the SUV.
Then pointed toward the moving truck.
“You can't simply bring commercial vehicles into the neighborhood without notifying the association.”
The homeowner glanced toward the truck.
“They're delivering furniture.”
“That doesn't matter.”
The president opened her folder.
“We have procedures.”
The homeowner looked toward the workers.
Then back at the older woman.
“I'm happy to review any applicable rules.”
The president smiled thinly.
“Good.”
She reached into the folder.
Then handed the younger woman a printed packet.
“Start with this.”
The packet contained a welcome letter, a list of neighborhood regulations, architectural guidelines, and contact information for the association management company.