Kevin and Stephanie pulled up to the craftsman house on Saturday morning, thinking they were attending the new owner’s open house. The shade trees were swaying, and the front porch looked exactly like the photographs they had saved. I sat on that porch in a wicker chair, a cup of tea in my hands, a set of keys on the small table beside me. Kevin stopped halfway up the walk, and Stephanie’s smile slid right off her face.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” he asked. I lifted my cup and said, “Having my tea, Kevin. This is my porch.” The realtor stepped out of the front door holding a folder and said, “Mr. Hale, the owner of record is Porch Tea Holdings, LLC.” Kevin read the name twice, and his color drained, because he had seen it printed on a hundred birthday checks.