"If our pool needed cleaning, we'd clean it. Everybody has problems around their house sometimes."
She nodded.
I added, "Needing help with something doesn't make a family bad. And having a beautiful house doesn't make a family better than anybody else."
She studied me.
Then she asked, "So why did she want everybody to think we were doing something wrong?"
I thought about the money.
The contractor.
The disputed records.
And the woman's repeated insistence that I was undermining her authority.
"I think she wanted people to stop questioning her."
My daughter nodded slowly.
Then she returned to her drawing.
After a while, she said, "I hope the new president stays."
I smiled.
"Me too."
The county environmental health office received a complaint about our pool shortly afterward.
I wasn't surprised.
The complaint claimed that we'd allowed unsanitary conditions to persist and were exposing neighboring properties to potential health risks.
The timing was suspicious.
By then, the pool had been professionally cleaned, and we'd followed the service provider's guidance before allowing anyone to use it again.
I cooperated with the appropriate review.
The official handling the matter examined the documentation and the current condition of the pool. We provided the maintenance records, the report concerning the dumping incident, and the subsequent cleanup information.
The official didn't accept either side's accusations at face value.
He focused on the applicable standards and observable conditions.
After the review, no continuing pool-sanitation violation was established against our property.
I felt relieved.
Not because I believed the complaint had been legitimate.
Because an independent professional had examined the actual condition instead of repeating what the former president claimed.
The official also made a practical point.
"Even well-maintained pools can develop problems. The important thing is identifying them accurately and addressing them safely."
I nodded.
"Agreed."
He looked toward the water.
"Your service records are organized."
I smiled faintly.
"Occupational habit."
He laughed.
Then he left.
I placed the review documentation in the folder with the other records.
By then, the folder was becoming alarmingly thick.
My wife looked at it one evening.
"You're going to need a bigger cabinet."
I laughed.
"Probably."
Then she reached for my hand.
"Just make sure there's still room in your life for something other than paperwork."
I smiled.
"I know."
She looked toward the backyard.
"Then how about dinner outside tonight?"
I nodded.
"Perfect."
We ate beneath the patio lights.
The pool was clean again.
The equipment worked.