"Gull Point," she said, chewing. "Is that the island one? The one Ms. Szilagyi emailed about?"
"Yes."
"Two weeks?"
"Yes. In June. The twenty-first."
She swallowed and looked at me. Mom has the Basaraba eyes, which are very dark and look tired even when she isn't, which she always is. "Honey, that's amazing," she said, and she meant it, I could tell she meant it, because she put the toast down. "That's really amazing. How much is it?"
"It's paid for," I said. "Almost. I'm paying for it."
"With what?"
"With the mowers."
She looked at me for a second like she was doing a math problem. Mom does the billing for Dr. Nwankwo's office, which is four dentists and two hygienists and a lot of insurance companies that do not want to pay for things, and she is very fast at math problems. "The mowers at Dad's," she said. Dad, when she says it, means Grandpa. Her dad. My dad she calls Dalton, or your father, depending on how the week is going.
"Yes."
"Those are making money?"