When I stepped out onto the patio, Daniel stood by the pool pump enclosure with a man in blue work coveralls who had a tool roll spread out on the grass.

“The seal on the impeller housing ripped out,” the plumber said, aiming a grease-stained screwdriver at the rusty iron casing.

“Water’s been leaking into the sand filter for three weeks now.”

“Can you get it fixed today?” Daniel asked, checking his watch.

“I’ve got a replacement assembly in the truck,” the man said.

“It’ll come to four hundred and twelve dollars, parts and labor.”

Daniel turned toward me as I came up the flagstone path.