May 11, 2037

Hudson Ridge Homeowners Association
1355 Wellington Road
New Rochelle, New York 10804

To Whom It May Concern,

I write to you today because Lyncroft Road, my family's home of 14 years, is in desperate need of a speed bump. Not only is our street entirely straight (a dream for speed demons), it is the only one in our community that leads directly to the main road. More traffic comes through Lyncroft than any other residential road within a mile radius. With our high population of families with small children, this is obviously an issue!

The speeding problem has been a prevalent one since we moved into the area in 2023. When we initially brought it to your attention you responded with the implementation of a speed limit sign. To put it frankly: that sign is a joke. Nobody adheres to it, not even the elderly ladies who have their investment club meetings in our clubhouse. My husband, regionally renowned OB-GYN Dr. Daniel Castellano, and I even saw a cop speed through here - not a siren to be heard, mind you - and when I reported it I was rudely ignored (I did, however, begin to receive a sudden influx of parking citations after the fact. I could delve into my concerns regarding corruption within our police department in GREAT detail, but that's another letter entirely). Needless to say, we have yet to see anyone actual heed the speed limit.

I should mention that my family, in particular, has done everything we could to aid the effort in making our street much safer. I've passed out letters and brought up my concerns at a number of HOA meetings. One afternoon, when our daughter and son were eight and five, respectively, we stood with a homemade sign asking drivers to "Pwease Swow Down." This didn't accomplish much (and my husband was not a fan of the idea, whatsoever). If children bearing a crudely made sign hinting towards a speech impediment doesn't encourage safety and showcase the value of life, then I don't know what will.

It's time for the Homeowners Association to intervene and remedy an issue that poses a great danger to its residents. I've enclosed a petition that has been signed by all of the inhabitants of Lyncroft Road as well many throughout our entire community. I implore you to take this matter seriously. Though our oldest has long ventured out into the world on her own and our son prepares to follow suit in mere months, my wish is to soon live on a street that is safe for me, my amazing husband of twenty-two years, our dog Dolce, and any future grandchildren that should come our way.

Also, Lyncroft Road is long overdue for a new stop sign. It should go without saying that we have all paid handsomely for the privilege to live here. We have well earned our right to have a sign free of penis-related graffiti.

Sincerely,

Mindy Lahiri, M.D.
158 Lyncroft Road
New Rochelle, New York 10804

August 8th, 2037

Barry R. Fertel
315 Oxford Road
New Rochelle, New York 10804

Barry,

I would have sent this letter to the HOA, but I know Martha opens all the association's mail. There's no need to make this official, since clearly going that route is ineffective anyway. It's time to have this out, man-to-man.

I don't give a shit if Mindy - who you seem to forget is not only some trophy-wife like some, but also a brilliant and highly esteemed surgeon in Manhattan - pissed off your wife when they were serving on the council together. It's more than apparent that Sheila, and this entire community, isn't ready for the forward-thinking and innovative ideas Mindy posed. Fine. It's your loss. After that coup you all staged to have my wife secretly voted off the board I would think that would be enough. Clearly it's not.

Approve the petition to install the damned speed bump. I'll pay for it out of my own pocket if that's what it takes to stop this clearly personal stalemate. If the safety of our friends and neighbors is not enough to motivate you, I hope that pointing out how it's making you look like an asshole will.

People are starting to notice what you're doing, and they're starting to talk. I know you think that just because you were city councilman for our district for five consecutive terms, and are friends with the mayor and everyone still on the council, it makes you above everyone else. But it does not.

We are not the only family this bizarre grudge is affecting. Every other resident on Lyncroft has noticed that we are the only major street without a speed bump, and we were the only road in our community left out when the entirety of Hudson Ridge was repaved this spring. It's being talked about and I certainly do not want the details of how your petty dislike of an upstanding family is subsequently hurting the community and have it tarnish your good reputation, and I doubt you do either.

I personally was raised to handle my own business and to never rely on others to do my work for me. However, if you continue to block our reasonable request and use your connections to block city-wide upgrades I am not above calling in my own favors. (Did I ever tell you the story of how I delivered both of Lieutenant Governor Torres' daughters and they grew up playing together and becoming lifelong friends with my own children?)

A few other things worth mentioning: 1) We both know that Sheila is the worst speeding offender, and that she goes two streets out of her way every single day to drive down Lyncroft at 50 MPH so she can arrive only ten minutes late for her spa appointment. 2) Everyone knows it was your grandson Eric who spray painted the dicks on all the stop signs. Fine. He was 13. But it's been nearly two years and the one by our house is the only one that hasn't been replaced. 3) If my wife receives another bogus parking ticket from one of your cronies I will file suit. Or I'll skip that and just take pleasure in finally kicking your ass.

This has gone on long enough. Install the speed bump and remove the dick sign immediately. And do not make me write to you regarding this or any matter that concerns my family or the safety of our residents again.

Regards,

Danny Castellano

The shrubs need to be trimmed. Technically it's the gardener's job, but Danny thinks maybe after breakfast he'll get the sheers and do it himself. He takes the long way around from the mailbox, the satisfying sound of breaks straining to slow down before it collides with the new speed bump making him smile as he goes back in through the side door into the sunroom. Mindy never remembers to re-lock it in the mornings after letting out the dog.

In the alcove behind the stairs, he toes out of his rubber-soled house shoes, the ones with slip-resistant bottoms that squeak against the hardwood, and attempts to be stealthy. He can hear her in their kitchen, the sounds of thousands of mornings as familiar as she is. The clatter as she opens the drawer by the sink for a spoon to measure out coffee grounds, a rushing sound of water being poured from the carafe, the twin tinkling-clack of ceramic mugs against marble; he must be a minute too late to hear the whirl of the coffee grinder.

He watches her for a moment, her back to him, hip propped against the counter and arms folded as she waits. It's completely silent and Danny can't help but wonder if his wife is thinking the same thing he is; it's too quiet. Eight months after driving Frank cross-country to CalTech and it still doesn't feel normal, like there's a preternatural lack of constant, vibrant sound in the whole house. It was different when Cam left for school, they still had Frank at home. Now though. . . The rooms feel too big, like they're gaping in the absence of missing family, just like he and Mindy are.

"Are you going to tell me good morning? Or just stand there being a creeper checking out my ass all day?"

He forgets he can't sneak up on her anymore, and hasn't been able to for years. There's something about once a person becomes a parent that gives them bat-like hearing. That, coupled with his joints and breathing getting louder with every passing year, makes it impossible. "I was planning on enjoying the view until you'd finished making the coffee. And I already told you good morning. Has your vision gotten that bad, Min?"

She still has her back to him as he walks closer, yet somehow he knows she's smiling. "That is not what your note said."

"True." Danny spans his hands along the soft fabric of her robe where her waist flares into her hips, thumbs at the curve of her lower back.

"You were sneaky. I didn't realize you'd been in until after I got out of the shower and saw what you left on the mirror." Mindy leans into his touch, her head dropping back against his shoulder, her pulled-up hair damp through his shirt. Maybe he has more surprises left in him than he thought. Danny places a kiss on her cheek by the hinge of her jaw and slips one hand around to where the sash of her robe is tied.

"I still have some skills left," he pulls on the cord and the sides of the robe fall apart, his lips ghosting her neck, and he can feel her take a breath. "You wanna?"

When she turns in his arms and meets his mouth with hers, Mindy's tongue tasting like their toothpaste and fingers winding softly in his hair, he takes it as a yes.

"Me too, by the way," she murmurs against his lips as he pulls her closer even as she's pushing into him, the hard, cold edge of marble suddenly at his back. "Next time you don't have to write it in a note. You can just tell me."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Authors' Notes

From helenvanpattersonpatton:

I think Phunky would agree when I say writing this story has been a surprisingly moving journey, all while being more fun than should be legal. And a huge part of that is you lovely readers. Your support, enthusiasm, and basic interest alone has made this the most joyous writing experience. Thank you so much, Phunky, for taking my hand and pulling me up on that ledge with you. I could not have asked or hoped for a better partner and friend. Lastly, to Denver and Jean: Thank you, for everything.

From PhunkyBrewster:

Some may not understand that for others, writing stories like this can be more than just a hobby. SSD was a result of a level of hard work and dedication that most wouldn't believe. The experience has made me a more thoughtful writer, fostered a genuine connection between myself and such an INCREDIBLE fandom, and brought to light so many possibilities that I never dared to consider. Helen, you beautiful, brilliant sunfish. Thank you for challenging me and for allowing me to transition from fangirl to friend.

Thank you to the most generous readers I could ever hope to encounter.

And I dedicate this story to my darling Ladybug, Camille. Expect a lot of future letters from Mom. :-)