Dad was bent over with his metal bucket, harvesting beans just as he did every other day of his life.

“What does he want me to see out here?” Wayne asked softly.

“I honestly have no idea,” I confessed.

I glanced up at the gray house next door and spotted Chad standing at his deck railing in a dark blue bathrobe, holding his coffee mug while watching us closely.

He had clearly seen the county car arrive and wanted to watch the official violation notice be delivered.

Chad raised his coffee cup slightly toward us in a mock toast, but Wayne did not return the gesture.