Then Montgomery said:
“Well, he’s probably just being difficult.”
That was exactly the response Iris wanted.
Not because it was accurate.
Because it reinforced the story she had already created.
Weston was not someone asking a reasonable question.
He was someone refusing to cooperate.
“I think he needs to understand that Pembroke Commons has expectations,” Iris said.
“I agree.”
“Good. I may need your support.”
“You have it.”
That conversation lasted less than three minutes.
But it mattered.
Because from that moment forward, Iris was no longer dealing with Weston alone.
She had convinced herself the entire board stood behind her.
Even though most of the board had never examined the issue.
Even though nobody had reviewed the governing documents.
Even though nobody had asked the question Weston asked.
Where is the authority?
The first violation notice was not meant to punish Weston.
At least, that was how Iris justified it.
She told herself it was a reminder.
A way to encourage cooperation.
She believed that once he saw the fine, he would understand the seriousness of the situation.
She believed pressure would succeed where explanation had failed.
What she did not expect was for Weston to become more organized.
The violation notice did not intimidate him.
It motivated him.
He did not call Iris.
He did not argue.
He did not visit the clubhouse demanding answers.
He documented.
That was what bothered her most.
Every other resident had reacted emotionally.
Weston reacted methodically.
Every letter.
Every fine.
Every conversation.
Every visit.
Everything went into his folder.
At first, Iris did not realize what he was doing.
She thought he was simply being stubborn.
Then the second certified letter arrived.
Then the attorney request.
Then the silence from the board became impossible to ignore.
For the first time in years, Iris Galloway was facing something she could not solve by walking to someone’s front door.
She was facing a record.
And records had no fear of confidence.
The first sign that Iris Galloway was losing control was not anger.
It was confusion.
For years, her methods had followed the same pattern.
She arrived.
She explained.
People complied.
If someone hesitated, she increased pressure.
If someone questioned her, she reminded them of the importance of community standards.
Eventually, they usually gave in.
But Weston Alcott did not follow the pattern.
He did not argue with her.
He did not complain about the fine.
He did not demand a meeting.
He simply kept asking for the same thing.
Proof.
That word bothered Iris more than anything else.
Because proof meant she could not rely on reputation.
She could not rely on the title of HOA president.
She could not rely on the fact that she had been doing something for years.
She needed something written.