“They’re going to fine me, you know,” he says, his tone going from angry to exasperated. “I don’t have this kind of money to just throw away.”
He steps away from the door and heads to the edge of the porch. Ann interprets this as an invitation to step outside. She doesn’t want to, but she decides to anyway.
“I’m doing the best I can here,” Roy says, his tone now one of desperation. “This is just going to set me back. Can you just get off my back and let me finish the work?”
“All I want is for you to finish,” Ann says, her exasperation matching his. “I want that more than anyone. Probably more than you.”
“This is my dream project,” Roy says. “I’m going to finish if it kills me.”
“Roy,” Ann says, trying to take as calm a tone as possible. “It’s time for you to get some help. You can still do a lot of the work, but you need to get some professionals here to help you.”
“I can’t afford that,” he says. “All my money is tied up in these houses.”
“Then sell one of them,” she says. “Sell all of them.”
“The idea of flipping houses is to make a profit,” he says. “I can’t get what I paid for this. I need to fix it up before I can sell it.”
Ann feels a pang of sympathy. It’s obvious Roy’s taken on more than he can actually handle, and he can’t see a way out. But clearly the answer isn’t to continue what he’s been doing.
“I just wish you’d get off my back,” Roy says.
“I’m not being unreasonable,” Ann says. “No one would want to live next to this.”
Roy glares at her again. It’s eerie how quickly his expressions can change—how he can look like a helpless, hapless boy one second, then an angry, intimidating man the next.
“Leave me alone, Ann,” Roy says, flinging his front door open. “Or you’ll be sorry.”
He doesn’t slam his door. He shuts it calmly, as if they’d just had an ordinary conversation. The calmness is almost worse; it feels more calculated, which is especially unsettling considering he just threatened her.
Ann stares at his door, trembling, before finally walking back into her house. She paces down her hallway, sits down at her piano, tries to play. Then she realizes she doesn’t want to be in her house—doesn’t feel safe in it—and grabs her keys and leaves.
Down the street, out of sight of her home, she leans against a brick building and puts her head in her hands.
She sobs.
She doesn’t know what to do, what her next step is. She hates that her home, the place where she once felt more at peace than any other place in the world, is no longer her sanctuary.
She wipes her tears away, tries to collect herself. This isn’t who she is. She feels a growing sense of resolve. She’s no pushover.
If Roy Kirk wants a war, she’ll give him one.
CHAPTER 18
“THANK YOU ALL FOR coming on such short notice.”
Ann stands before the neighborhood association board. It’s mid-January, and one of her New Year’s resolutions was to address the problem with her neighbor head-on. No more messing around. She’s not going to spend another eight months waiting for him to finally do something.
“I want you all to know,” she says, “that Roy Kirk is scheduled to appear in housing court. He is facing hefty fines from both the city housing department and the health department. I am here today,” she adds, “to ask if you’ll join me in testifying against him.”
The board members look around at each other, murmuring their surprise. Luckily, this time Roy isn’t in the room, glaring at her. But she’s just as nervous as she was when she pushed for the vote of no confidence.
“Ann,” Henry says, “I’m not sure this is the appropriate venue.”
“There’s a blight in our neighborhood,” Ann says, “and the man responsible refuses to do anything about it. This affects all of us.”
Most people look skeptical, but Marjorie Wilson speaks up, saying she knows someone in the area trying to sell their home.
“They were shocked when the assessor came and valued their house at less than expected,” Marjorie tells the group. “When they asked what was wrong, the assessor told them plain and simple, ‘It’s that house down the street—the one with all the garbage in the yard.’”
Several people in the room look stunned, wondering what this means for their own home values.
“It’s called external obsolescence,” Ann explains. “That’s when factors outside of your property can affect its value. I talked to a lawyer and he says our property values—all of our property values—could be as much as 10 percent lower as a result of Roy Kirk’s dereliction. His other properties could be having the same effect.”
“But what good is going to court going to do?” Henry asks. “I don’t want to make life harder for the guy.”
“That’s the other thing,” Ann says. “I plan to file an injunction that will compel him to fix the problem.”
“A lawsuit?” Henry asks.
“Yes,” Ann says. “And I’d like you all to join me as co-plaintiffs.”
Henry shakes his head, suggesting Ann is going too far. But others don’t look so uncertain—they want something done about Roy’s property almost as much as Ann does.
“My lawyer explained that there are three steps you should take when in a dispute like this,” Ann says.
The first, she says, is to try to work it out with your neighbor.
“I’ve tried that, and it hasn’t done any good.”
The second step is to notify the city to enforce its codes. She’s tried that, too, but so far Roy hasn’t addressed any of the building and health inspectors’ concerns.
“Filing a lawsuit should be the last resort,” Ann says. “But I’m sorry to say I—we—have arrived at the last resort. It’s clear that Roy Kirk is not going to fix up his house on Lawn Street unless he’s forced to do so.”
Ann explains the logistics of the suit—who her lawyer is, how to join the suit, the timeline for filing, potential outcomes. And even if people don’t want to join, she encourages them to still attend the court hearing and testify about what they’ve witnessed regarding Roy’s property.
Marjorie says she’ll join. Ted Fontana also agrees. So do a few more, though others are on the fence. Some are adamant that they want no part in it.
“I like Roy,” says Frannie, a restaurateur who lives on the opposite side of the community, most likely out of harm’s way from Roy’s property value–draining eyesore. “I can’t do this to him.”
“I think you’re making a big mistake,” Henry says of the lawsuit. “Just give him time and let him do the work.”
“There are rats in my yard, crawling under my porch,” Ann retorts. “How long should I wait? Until the rats come in my front door and sit down at my dinner table?”
Henry shakes his head.
“I sympathize with you,” he says. “I understand you’re frustrated. But this is only going to make matters worse. I don’t think anything good will come of this.”