Renee got out of the passenger side first, a thick leather planner tucked under her arm.

She halted three feet from the bottom step, her gaze climbing from my canvas shoes to the carved mesquite sign hanging above my head.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Daniel asked, his wristwatch sliding back and forth on his wrist as he grabbed the wooden handrail.

“Did the listing agency hire somebody to house-sit during escrow?”

“I brought my own chair,” I said, putting my glass of water down on the little wicker table next to the swing.

“We came by for another look from the street,” Renee said, her manicured index fingernail tapping on the side of her leather planner.