Page 31 of Class Act

“That I know for a fact some older people in the neighborhood have big dogs and won’t be able to carry them and that I think it infringes on peoples’ rights to take their pets on walks. I also said that as a school teacher, I can promise people do more damage to grassy areas than the few pets passing through. These people pay their HOA fees. They should be allowed to use the common areas.”

I took a deep breath and let it out as I shifted again. “That doesn’t sound shrewish to me.”

“In fairness to Brooks VanOrman, I’d also objected to paying fees for overnight guests and having a dress code for garage sales.”

This time my pose faltered, and I flopped down onto my bottom. “What?”

“You heard me right. You’d have to pay $10 a night for overnight guests, and if you want to host a garage sale, you could do it in April or October, but to designate yourself as the seller you have to wear a blue polo shirt and khaki pants.”

A shocked laugh burst out of me. “Those rules are absurd. Are they actual rules or do people bring these to the meetings to vote on?”

“Right now they’re not rules, or at least they won’t be this month thanks to my strident work. But, yeah, people show up to the meetings wanting to implement these wacky rules, and then the board votes on them. Only I’ve started attending and shooting them down.”

“And Brooks VanOrman, HOA president, got tired of you doing that? I don’t understand why he’d be upset with you rather than commending you for your common sense.”

She sighed. “He’s tired of me just like I’m tired of him. It’s been a few long months of battle. The things is, I’d back off if the guy grew a backbone. I have no idea how he even got elected.”

I leaned over and patted her arm. “Maybe they realized they’d never get anything past you and so they went for the soft guy.”

“Brooks? Soft? Hardly. The man has a big beard that would make a lumberjack jealous and a tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his wrinkled button-down shirts. He looks like a guy who knows how to handle things, you know?”

I’d never seen him, but I did know he was a worthy opponent for my friend. The same friend who had moments before dropped his last name and only called him Brooks. It was more telling than she realized, considering for the past year we’d never called him only by his first name. He was getting to her.

“Plus,” she continued, “he didn’t even run for the position. They found out he’s a lawyer, and so they asked him. I was begging for the job, and they sought out this random dude that wanted nothing to do with it.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Her head sank further into the mattress. “If I play my cards right, he’ll quit.”

“Is that what you really want?” I kept my tone soft in the face of her uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“I don’t know.” She turned her head to face me. “He confuses me.”

I smiled. “Welcome to my life.”

“Does Ford confuse you?” she asked, and I nodded. “In a good way?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, and I’m trying really hard not to think about him at all.”

She reached out and took my hand. “I think I’ll try that plan for myself. Thanks for doing yoga with me this morning.”

I squeezed back. “You mean watching you snooze on your big comfy bed while offering my services as a therapist?”

“Yeah, that.” She grinned, and I was relieved to see regular Meredith in her eyes.

“Any time.”

CHAPTER NINE

I needed this night, so much. It was exactly the perfect way to finish the purification of my thoughts and emotions. It was one of my happy places, and it had never let me down before. I’d meant what I said to Meredith about trying to let go of thoughts that weren’t serving me, and the theater was the ideal place to reorder my disjointed mind. Was I putting undue pressure on the opera to pull me out of my funk and get me back on my feet again? Probably. But the mind is a powerful tool, and the opera could only enhance its gifts, as far as I was concerned. I was going to immerse myself in the magic and come away renewed.

Dressed in an elegant black dress and strappy silver heels with my cashmere shawl around my shoulders, I was upbeat and excited--the very image of a class act. I’d managed to pull my hair into a short updo, and I’d taken extra time with my makeup, all culminating in me feeling pampered and ready for a wonderful evening. I entered the theater with my hand through Dad’s arm and Mom on his other side, all of us talking happily as we discussed the upcoming performance. We were season ticket holders to the opera and loved attending together, soaking in the music and reconnecting with other friends who attended.

I couldn’t wait to lose myself to the intricate theater with its whites, golds, and reds; lovingly restored murals; and divine music. I hadn’t told my parents about Hillary’s dance recital or my ongoing emotional reactions to Ford, and I was glad I hadn’t. It meant nothing would need to be discussed tonight. They probably assumed the last time I’d seen him was at their house a while ago--an assumption I was happy to support.

I let go of Dad’s arm and dropped back to follow him and Mom up the stairs to our balcony seats. We loved the bird’s-eye view, and as a relatively introverted person, I also enjoyed sitting inconspicuously off to the side where I could feel most comfortable. I never could relax when I felt like people were watching me or there was even the slightest chance I’d be pulled up on stage or spoken to by the performers. A bubble of excitement rose as we walked into the main auditorium and could hear the orchestra warming up over the hum of the audience gathering.

“I love Carmen,” Mom said over her shoulder to me. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

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