Welcome to Chronicles of an HOA, a completely fictional and emotionally accurate look at life in a Southern Wake neighborhood where the grass is always measured, the bylaws are sacred, and someone always knows the exact location of your trash can. Names have been changed to protect the overly involved. If you complain about this article to the editor, I can only assume you’re the president of an HOA yourself and this series hits a little too close to home. =
This will be an ongoing series in Main & Broad, so if you find yourself at the edge of your seat by the end and yearning for more (unlikely), just know … there’s more to come.
Now, for the residents of The Enclave at Sunset Lake:
- Sharon Whitaker (HOA president): Retired. Carries her keys on a bright pink Simply Southern lanyard. Shops exclusively at Harris Teeter and is very active on the community Facebook group. Has emailed the neighborhood at 6:12 a.m. every day since 2014.
- Mike Whitaker (her husband): Just wants to grill. Has seen things. His grown kids would describe him as henpecked and emotionally unavailable. Doesn’t ask questions anymore.
- Todd and Ashley Bennett (new residents, light still in their eyes): Early 30s, just moved from an apartment in Cary. New parents to a six-month-old. Fire department on speed dial.
- Mr. Craig Milford (lives on the corner): Has lived there “since before this stupid HOA was a thing.” When he chooses to mow his lawn, he does it diagonally out of spite. Seen hanging out in his garage at all hours, all seasons. Has major beef with Sharon.
- Melanie (dog mom): Treats her overweight shih tzu like a human child and drops them at Pooch Pad for enrichment classes three days a week. Currently feuding with other dog owners over unbagged poop. Sets the timer on her Apple Watch to clock how long her neighbors keep their pets outside unattended.
- Abbie and Jack Weber: Super chill couple, actually. Tries their best to avoid HOA violations, fails at least once a year. Lurks on the neighborhood Facebook page and Nextdoor for entertainment purposes only. Still not sure what an “enclave” is.
Episode 1: The Smoke
The Webers were in their backyard, celebrating absolutely nothing with a couple of cold ones. It was a warm Friday night, and they admired their latest achievement: a DIY fire pit made from concrete blocks that definitely leaned a little too far to the left, but hell, they did it.
The cicadas were humming and the lingering smell of the dump was less rank than usual. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked more than five times and their neighbor, Melanie, was clocking it.
“Perfect night,” Jack said, cracking open a can of Happy Place from Mason Jar Lager Co.
Jack and Abbie unfolded two camping chairs from Buc-ee’s and sank into them with the confidence of two people who had not read a single page of the neighborhood bylaws.
Jack’s phone buzzed.
He glanced down and saw a notification from The Enclave Neighborhood Facebook Group, posted by Todd and Ashley Bennett.
“Is anyone else seeing this smoke? Wanted to go for a walk this evening with baby boy, but it’s affecting the air quality.”
Jack slowly lowered his phone. Looked at the fire. Looked at his wife. Looked back at the fire.
“Well,” he said, “that feels … directed.”
His wife squinted toward the fence line. At that exact moment, a gust of wind blew a cloud of smoke directly over the Bennetts’ backyard, like Satan himself had sent it.
Inside their house, three doors down, Ashley refreshed the Facebook group. No responses yet. Todd paced.
“Should we call someone?” he asked.
Ashley hesitated for a full two seconds before saying, “I just don’t want this to become a thing.”
Readers, it became a thing.
Seven minutes later, in the distance, a faint siren could be heard. Jack choked on his beer. The siren grew louder. A short time later, a Holly Springs fire truck rolled into the neighborhood and residents emerged like it was the second coming of Jesus Christ our Lord. Jack stood up so fast his chair folded in on itself.
“You’ve got to be (*&$#@ kidding me.”
The truck slowed to a stop in front of their house. Doors opened. Porch lights flipped on. Craig Milford actually walked out of his open garage for once, holding a mystery beverage and looking amused.
A firefighter stepped out, calm, professional, clearly annoyed.
“Evening,” he said. “We got a report of a possible outdoor burn concern.”
To Be Continued …
- Perfect Summer Pairs
- Chronicles of an HOA: The Enclave at Sunset Lake
- Small Business Spotlight: Frankie Frankk’s Hot Dog Cart
- Recipes from Readers: Cake in a Cloud
- Strawberry Season
- Dig In & Drink Up: Larry The Cucumber
- Meet & Greet: Sim Ogburn
- See & Do: May to June 2026
- Made for Shade
- Crazy for Collectibles
