Maureen's job, things in general.
Maureen ate a bite of salad. 'So, Kenny Tolkin was a con artist, huh?'
The other woman frowned. 'What?'
'Frank told Barry that Kenny was living illegally in someone's house and scammed some people out of their money.'
Audrey shook her head. 'No,' she said slowly. 'It was his house. From what I understand, he was in arrears because he had not paid his association dues for the year. I think he was put on some type of probation but he skipped out. I don't know why. He could've worked it off. The association isn't completely inflexible.' She smiled at Maureen. 'Although they're pretty close.'
They both laughed.
Audrey speared a tomato with her fork. 'I suppose he'll put it up for sale eventually.'
The soup and salad were delicious, as was the homemade rosemary bread that was brought out a few moments later after a timer in the kitchen rang. Audrey was quite a cook, and Maureen wished, not for the first time, that she was a little more domestic, that she'd taken some cooking classes or, at the very least, listened more to her mother while growing up. It was not too late, though, and with her new resolve to have more free time, she thought she could probably find the time to sign up for some courses, providing Corban had some type of adult ed program.
'So what do you think about the pamphlet?' Audrey asked.
Maureen frowned. 'Pamphlet?'
'The sexual harassment pamphlet. Don't tell me you didn't get one?'
'No.'
Audrey laughed. 'Well, you're in for a treat. Our old friends at the association are now laying down policy about sexual liaisons between homeowners.' She shook her head, chuckled. 'Not that it'll stop anything.'
Maureen raised an eyebrow. 'Anything you want to tell me?'
'No, no, nothing like that.'
'Do you have a copy of the pamphlet? I'd like to see it.'
'I think Frank tossed it, but I'll see.'
She couldn't find the pamphlet, but she did come back with twin bowls of peach sorbet, and they ate dessert and talked about the prudery that seemed to have overtaken the world since their teenage years.
Afterward, Maureen offered to stay and help clean up, but Audrey shooed her off. 'Get out of here.'
'Next time it's at my place.'
'Are you expecting me to help with your dishes?'
'Of course not.'
'I'll be there.'
Maureen walked slowly back up the street toward home. She looked again at the shirtless workers as she passed by the pool site and for some reason was reminded of Kenny Tolkin. Why, she wondered, had he ran away? Because he was behind in paying his dues? It was a bizarre and unbelievable reaction, and the idea didn't sit well with her. People only ran when they were afraid, and she thought of the mysterious appearance of the new gate as well as everything else that had happened, and despite the heat of the day she felt cold. There was no mail in the box when she checked, but there was a glossy pamphlet. Sure enough, it was titled Bonita Vista Sexual Harassment Guidelines, and she opened it as she walked up the driveway, her eye immediately drawn to the subheading 'Love Can Wait.'
Wait for what?
She glanced down at the bulleted paragraphs.
Sexual relationships between neighbors are very seldom secret. Others will be watching and judging your behavior, which could lead to disharmony in the community.
Relationships may end and leave one or both of the individuals with bitter feelings. If this happens, there will be uncomfortable and awkward social situations as well as the possibility for retaliation by one or both parties.
Sex between neighbors, even consensual sex, is considered unprofessional and inappropriate behavior. While there are no current regulations prohibiting such conduct, rules are being drafted and will be put to a vote at the annual meeting in September.
Maureen frowned. There was nothing actually in here about sexual harassment. Like Audrey said, this was simply an unwarranted intrusion into people's personal lives. Not only was the homeowners' association driving off individuals who didn't pay their dues on time, it was also trying to dictate people's sex partners. What was next? Requiring association approval before performing certain sexual acts and positions? This was an audacious and unbelievable invasion of privacy, and she found it both ridiculous and horrifying.
She walked into the house. A small petty part of her considered throwing the pamphlet away, not showing it to Barry, not telling him about it. It was difficult enough to be proved wrong about something without having your face rubbed in it. But this was too egregious to be swept under the rug. Barry and Ray had been right about the association all along, and while the regulations outlined in the pamphlet didn't affect her, the next edict might, and she found herself wondering what the association could possibly try to prohibit next.
He was writing again.
Whatever it was that had caused his temporary block J was gone, and Barry was grateful. He did not try to analyze it, did not look at it too carefully or think about it overmuch. He was not one to question the whys and wherefores; he simply accepted it when things went well and hoped they continued that way.
He stopped typing, flexed his fingers, and read over the paragraph he'd just finished.
The thought crossed his mind that he'd been corrupted by Hollywood. It sounded melodramatic and probably seemed ludicrous on the face of it, but the truth was that he'd been thinking of filmic possibilities for this new novel even as he was writing it. Always before, plot and characters had served only the story, with real-life considerations having no say in the outcome. But ever since his near brush with movie success, he'd found himself casting this novel, trying to figure out the actor or actress best suited for each character. He'd also been unusually aware of visual elements in the story, things that would look good on the screen.
Was this influencing the work itself?
He didn't think so, but he wasn't sure, and the possibility worried him.
Still, things were sailing along. He'd finished twelve pages this morning alone, and he saved what he'd written, turned off the computer, and stood, stretching. It was lunchtime, a little later than usual, actually, and he closed up his office and walked across the field to the coffee shop to grab some grub.
All of the regulars were there, in place and eating. They were unusually quiet when he walked in, and he had the unsettling feeling that they had halted their conversations as a result of his presence.
'Howdy, all!' he called out, smiling too broadly as he passed by the tables nearest the door.
Hank offered a curt 'Hello,' not bothering to look up from his plate.
Behind the counter, Bert merely nodded, and Barry sat down at his usual table, ordering his usual lunch from an uncharacteristically silent Lurlene.
He sipped his water and tried to catch the eye of one of his buddies, but no one was looking in his direction and they seemed to be making a concerted effort to ignore him. He felt the way he had that first day--unwanted and out of place--and it was all he could do to remain in his seat and not tell Bert to wrap up his food to go.
Gradually, conversation started up again, first over on the opposite side of the room, then at the tables closer to his wall seat. He wasn't listening exactly, didn't want to eavesdrop on other people's business, but when he heard Joe mention the phrase 'Bonita Vista,' his ears pricked up.
'This time they've gone too far,' Lyle was saying.
Someone else agreed.
'And you know they're not going to be held responsible,' Joe said loudly. 'Nothing's going to happen to them. No one's going to get punished.'
Lurlene brought over Barry's order. 'His sister found him,' she said, ignoring him and addressing Lyle's table. 'She was going out to feed the dog, and he was next to the doggie bowl.'
Hank cleared his throat. 'You guys're talkin ' like he's dead. I thought they didn't know if he was going to be okay yet or not.'
'They don't,' Joe said. 'But it don't look good. A chopper airlifted him to the Cedar City hospital. They got a
