My in-laws used my pool for years without ever asking. But when I requested to borrow a tent, my brother-in-law laughed and said, “Buy your own. We’re not helping you.”
Then Carter discovered it.
He arrived one Saturday without asking. His sons, Nathan and Luke, came through the side gate behind him wearing swim trunks and carrying plastic water toys. Carter dropped a cooler beside my new lounge chair.
“Heard the rich guy finally finished his private resort,” he said.
I was reading under the umbrella.
“You could have called.”
“Family doesn’t need reservations.”
Sarah came outside with towels, pleased to see her nephews.
“Carter, you should have told us.”
He opened a drink.
“I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
Then he looked at me, daring me to contradict him in front of the children.
I let them stay.
That was the first concession.
By the end of the summer, Carter was no longer visiting.
He was scheduling events.
Pool party Saturday at one.
Nathan is bringing four friends.
Make sure the filter is on.
The messages went to Sarah, rarely to me. They were announcements, not requests.
Carter arrived with children I had never met, bags of food, plastic toys, and a portable speaker he placed beside the deep end. He used my grill, left grease across the grates, and drank whatever he found in the garage refrigerator.
When the gathering ended, the other children left with their parents. Carter loaded his cooler into his truck and drove away, leaving wet towels, soda cans, and broken toys scattered across the deck.
I cleaned it all.
The next weekend, he returned.
Sarah insisted the boys had nowhere else to swim. Carter and his former wife lived in separate small apartments, and neither complex had a pool.
“It’s only summer,” she said.
“It’s every weekend.”
“They love being here.”
“He never asks.”
“He assumes he’s welcome because he’s my brother.”
“That is the problem.”
She promised to talk to him.
Nothing changed.
One Sunday night, I spent nearly two hours removing fragments of water balloons from the filtration basket. When I carried the dripping plastic into the kitchen, Sarah was loading the dishwasher.
“This has to stop.”
She briefly closed her eyes.
“Matthew.”
“I want one weekend in my own yard.”
“The boys had fun.”
