Neighborly Damage

A white SUV nosed into Marcus’s driveway and stopped half crooked over the seam where the apron met the street. Amit Shah got out in a golf shirt and khakis, still holding his phone like it might buzz with better news if he stared at it hard enough.

Marcus was at the truck bed with a coil of garden hose and a box of blue nitrile gloves. He shut the tailgate with one hand and let the latch click.

Amit lifted both palms. “Marcus, hey. I heard what happened.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m just saying, maybe don’t make it bigger than it is. Folks are upset, but this is Willow Crest. We can smooth it over.”

Marcus looked at him, then at the ring of dried foam on the grass near the fence line. “My kid got stung.”

“Of course. Of course. And that’s awful. I’m not saying it isn’t.” Amit gave a quick laugh that died before it got out. “But Karen’s old-school. She gets worked up about noise, mess, that sort of thing. High-strung eccentricities, you know?”

Marcus’s boots were planted shoulder-width apart. His hands hung loose at his sides. “She threw a hornet nest.”

Amit rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sure that’s not how she’d put it.”

Renee’s car came in behind the SUV and stopped hard enough to rock. She got out carrying a paper sack from the pharmacy and took one look at Amit’s face.

“What’s he doing here?”

Amit turned to her. “I was just asking Marcus if we could keep a lid on this. For everybody’s sake.”

Renee walked right up until she was in his space. “Everybody’s sake. That what you call stinging two kids and one man in the throat?”

He glanced at Marcus, looking for a way out. “Nobody wants a scene.”

“Then why are you here making one?” she said. “How many kids have to get hit before you stop calling the woman next door ‘eccentric’?”

Amit swallowed. “I’m saying property values take a hit when—”

“When what?” Renee said. “When somebody’s caught doing something filthy?”

Marcus took the pharmacy bag from her and looked past Amit toward the street. A couple of blinds twitched across the way. Somebody had already been watching.

He nodded once. “Thursday. Emergency meeting.”

Amit frowned. “Marcus, don’t do this in public.”

Marcus slid the truck latch shut. “Too late.”

He headed for the house, Renee at his shoulder, while Amit stood there in the heat, trapped between the driveway and the truth.