Some families had paid several hundred dollars.
Others purchased larger packages.
A few deposited money for private events scheduled later in the summer.
One woman had paid for a family birthday gathering.
Another had booked a neighborhood social event.
And a small business had paid a deposit for an employee appreciation afternoon.
All at my pool.
None with my permission.
When my wife learned about the business event, she stared at me.
“They were planning to bring an entire company here?”
I nodded.
She looked toward the guesthouse.
Then toward the patio doors.
“Our daughter sleeps upstairs.”
I took her hand.
“I know.”
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, “I'm so glad the gate stayed locked.”
I looked toward the electronic keypad.
So was I.
The following afternoon, the older man in the pale-green polo contacted our attorney.
He had retained independent counsel.
He was prepared to provide records from the temporary amenities committee.
And he wanted to make a formal statement.
We arranged a meeting where everyone understood their respective legal roles.
When he arrived, he wore a plain gray shirt and dark trousers.
He looked exhausted.
His hands trembled slightly when he placed the folder on the table.
He glanced toward me.
Then toward my wife.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
I nodded.
He took a breath.
“I want you to understand how this happened.”
For nearly an hour, he explained.
He had been asked to serve on the temporary amenities committee because of his retirement experience managing recreational facilities.
He believed the HOA was negotiating legitimate alternatives while the clubhouse pool remained closed.
The president presented him with a proposed agreement supposedly signed by me.
It stated that the association could provide limited access to my pool during specified hours.
It also described maintenance contributions and liability arrangements.
He asked whether the agreement had been reviewed.
The president told him the association attorney had approved it.
He asked whether I had been consulted.
She assured him I had.
Then she instructed committee members not to contact me directly because the agreement supposedly required communications through association management.
The older man looked down.
“I should've confirmed that.”
I didn't disagree.
He continued.
“The document looked legitimate.”
My wife leaned forward.
“Did it have our signatures?”
He nodded.
“Your husband's.”
She looked toward me.
Then back at him.
“Where did the signature come from?”
The older man hesitated.
“I don't know.”
He swallowed.
“But I think the camera paperwork may be involved.”
I became still.
“What?”
He looked toward his folder.