"Don't you have anything better to do than lurk around your yard?"
I glanced at the peach in her hand.
"Apparently I need to."
She rolled her eyes.
"These branches hang near the community path."
"They're attached to a tree on my property."
"That doesn't mean the fruit is exclusively yours."
"I've already told you not to pick it."
She smiled coldly.
"And I've already told you that community standards take precedence."
I took out my phone.
"Would you mind repeating that?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you recording me?"
"Yes."
"Without my permission?"
"I'm documenting what's happening on my property."
She scoffed.
"You people and your cameras."
I looked at her.
"What do you mean by 'you people'?"
She hesitated.
Then waved her hand.
"People who make everything confrontational."
I nodded.
"Interesting."
She twisted another peach from the branch.
I glanced toward the red warning tag.
"Ma'am, don't eat that."
She laughed.
"Why?"
"Read the sign."
She leaned slightly forward.
Her sunglasses reflected the morning light.
She read the warning.
Then smirked.
"Hot pepper treatment?"
"Yes."
"How childish."
"It's a food-safe garden experiment. The fruit needs washing."
She lifted the peach.
"You think putting a ridiculous tag on your tree makes you important?"
"No."
She turned the peach in her hand.
"You can't tell me what to eat."
I remained calm.
"I'm telling you not to eat unwashed fruit I've marked."
She looked directly at me.
Then took a large bite.
For a moment, she seemed triumphant.
She chewed deliberately.
As if defeating me required nothing more than swallowing a mouthful of stolen fruit.
Then her expression changed.
Her eyes widened.
She stopped chewing.
A cough escaped.
She pulled the peach away.
"Whatβ"
Another cough.
Her face reddened.
She spat the bite onto the grass.
"What is WRONG with you?"
I stayed where I was.
"Are you okay?"
She glared.
"You did something to this!"