The night we posed for that picture had been my first black-tie dinner. I did not know at the time what a farce the gala had turned out to be. Determining that the association had hired what she considered to be an inferior catering company, Mrs. Haltom had had my mother cancel the original contract and enlist another at nearly twice the expense. The association had originally agreed to have a local performer donate his talents, but Mrs. Haltom wanted dancing, so a soul band was flown down from New York and paid a considerable fee so that Mrs. Haltom and her pals could shake it to covers of “Mustang Sally” and “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay.”

The gala was a great education for my mother, not only in the fine points of event planning but, moreover, in how people will flatter and appease to secure a donation. Unsurprisingly, Mrs. Haltom’s charities were not soup kitchens or shelters or homes for abused women, but the ballet and the opera, the art museum, the symphony, and the Yeatman and Steptoe Schools. Who am I to judge? I was hardly one to put the welfare of the homeless above the value of a Yeatman education.

My mother hustled around the tables in her lavender evening gown, making sure everyone was getting enough wine, chatting with Ellen Creigh and Mrs. Haltom’s various bridge and tennis friends, and charming the old men, including a few of her old patrons from Café Cabernet. I felt so proud of her. She seemed to have found her niche.

Jamie managed to force a smile for the family photos. Afterward, he waved me over.

“Let’s hit the head,” he said, raising his eyebrows so I would know he meant to go out for a smoke.

“You go,” I said. “It might look bad if we go at the same time.”

Jamie wandered off, leaving me to stand next to Vanessa, watching the ballroom staff clear the dais for the band. Arch was out of town at a lacrosse tournament. I had her all to myself for once.

“Your mom did an amazing job,” Vanessa said. “I don’t think it could have gone off better.”

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Right over there,” Vanessa said.

She lifted her lovely arm and gestured toward the side of the stage. My mother stood next to Mr. Haltom, looking on as Mrs. Haltom had her moment in the spotlight. Mr. Haltom turned toward my mother and tilted his head. My mother lifted her eyes to his.