“But let us try to finalize things soon so we can get the crew booked before the August rush.”

Inside the kitchen, Emma was standing by the counter, slowly rotating her silver ring around her index finger as she watched the neighbor’s yard through the window.

“He is laying it on thick,” Emma said, her voice tight.

“Did he mention the concrete pour date?”

“No,” I said, setting the basket of tomatoes on the table.

“He just talked about the sod.”

“He is trying to buy you off, Mom,” she said, finally turning to face me.