It was the smile of someone arriving at an event she believed she owned.
Marcus went downstairs.
He put on swim trunks.
Then the gray bathrobe.
He walked into the backyard carrying the blue-and-white pool skimmer.
The gate remained locked.
At 7:41, Patricia tried the keypad.
Nothing happened.
She entered a code.
Nothing.
She tried again.
Nothing.
She frowned.
Then she turned around.
"Marcus!"
He continued walking.
She tried the keypad a third time.
"Marcus!"
He stopped near the pool.
"Good morning."
"Open the gate."
"No."
Patricia stared at him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I need to get inside."
"No."
"We have guests arriving."
"That's unfortunate."
Her face changed.
"Don't do this."
Marcus rested the skimmer pole against his shoulder.
"You booked my property without permission."
"It's a community event."
"Not on my property."
"I have documentation."
"Do you?"
She raised the clipboard.
"Yes."
Marcus looked at it.
Then at her.
"Then you should probably read it."
Patricia's jaw tightened.
"You are not going to humiliate me."
"You did that yourself."
She grabbed the gate with both hands.
The metal rattled.
"Open this gate right now. I promised this pool for a hundred guests, and you do not get to embarrass me in front of this neighborhood."
Marcus did not move.
"You booked my private pool without asking me, so I changed the code before sunrise."
"You can't stop this party. I already took everyone's money."
Marcus glanced toward the drainage hose.
Then back at her.
"Then start refunding it—because I drained the pool at dawn, and every deposit form you signed puts the loss on you personally."
For several seconds, Patricia simply stared at him.
Then she screamed.
"You drained the pool?"
"Yes."
"You actually drained the pool?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any idea how much this event cost?"
"Not my event."
"You are unbelievable!"
"Probably."
"You have no right!"
Marcus looked at the locked gate.
"I have every right to control access to my own backyard."
"You are violating the HOA agreement."
"No."
"I know the rules."
"You know the rules you tell everyone else."
Her face flushed.
Behind her, two neighbors had stopped unloading chairs.
A man named Robert Hayes looked uncomfortable.
His wife, Denise, stood beside him with a box of bottled water.
Neither said anything.
Patricia pointed at them.
"You see? This is what I mean. He thinks because he owns a nice house, he's above everyone."
Marcus shook his head.
"This isn't about being above anyone."
"Then what is it about?"
"Consent."
She laughed bitterly.
"Consent?"
"Yes."
"This is a neighborhood."
"My backyard is still private."
"You agreed to community standards."