“I took it from across the fence,” Nora said. “Your father was so proud of those tiles. He asked me to take a photograph because he couldn’t get the whole border into one frame.”
Elena held the picture carefully. She felt a wave of grief and tenderness, followed by a strange, painful amusement. The woman who had filled her father’s pool with rubbish was also the woman who had preserved this small forgotten moment.
“May I have a copy?” Elena asked.
“Of course. The original is yours if you want it.”
“A copy is enough,” Elena said. “Keep your collection together.”
They stood beneath the photographs, not yet friends and no longer strangers. Around them the resource center workers were carrying folding tables outside. Somewhere in the hallway Anthony was arguing about the correct way to stack chairs. Someone answered him with a joke. Nobody was taking notes.
CHAPTER TEN — CLEAN WATER
The days after the conference were quieter than Elena had imagined. There were calls from journalists, emails from people who wanted footage, requests for interviews from agencies interested in the ethics of behavioral assessment. Elena declined most of them. She shared information with the authorities handling her property complaint and continued working on the museum staircase she’d abandoned on the morning of the pool incident.
The pool company completed its cleaning and water testing. The damage was less serious than Elena had feared, though not trivial. A skimmer basket had cracked and a filter required replacement. Nora insisted on contributing toward the expenses. Frances helped the two women put a practical agreement in writing, with no language requiring either of them to pretend the incident had been harmless.
At the resource center Imani organized a discussion for seniors who had participated in the program. Some were furious. Some felt ashamed. Others said they had enjoyed the early confidence classes and resented hearing every aspect of the experience condemned. Imani let them disagree. The most useful part of the gathering came when several participants planned an ordinary neighborhood supper, with no scores, no assigned provocations, and no recording equipment except people’s personal phones, which they were asked not to aim at strangers.
Anthony offered to set up tables. Gloria volunteered to repair the center’s torn tablecloths. Ethel proposed an evening for people to teach practical skills to neighbors who actually wanted to learn them. Nobody called it a laboratory.
A week later Elena found Nora at the front gate holding a small shopping bag. She looked uncomfortable.
“I brought you something,” Nora said.
“If it’s another garbage bag, we’re going to have a problem.”
Nora laughed, then covered her mouth in surprise. She took out a pair of sturdy pool skimmer gloves and a paperback mystery novel. “I didn’t know what you’d like. The gloves are practical. The book is because I heard you used to read mysteries with your father.”
