I wasn’t the only person who thought so, either. At a classmate’s birthday party, she’d wowed the mom of one of her friends so much with her love of art history that the gazillionaire socialite MOMA board member insisted on pulling some strings in order to get Em into Brown. Not that Em would need the help.

I was practically going to have to get a home equity loan on our two-bedroom apartment in order to pay for tonight’s 120-person party at the Blue Note down in the Village, but I didn’t care. As a young, single mom, I had practically grown up with Em. She was my heart, and tonight was her night.

“Mom,” Emma said, coming over and shaking me back and forth by my shoulders. “Lift up your right hand and solemnly swear that this will be the last time you will puddle this evening. I agreed to this only because you promised me you’d be Nina Bloom, très chic, ultrahip, cool mom. Hold it together.”

I raised my right hand. “I do so solemnly swear to be a très chic, ultrahip, cool mom,” I said.

“OK, then,” she said, blowing a raspberry on my cheek. She whispered in my ear before she let go, “I love you, Mom, by the way.”

“Actually, Emma, that isn’t the only thing,” I said, walking over to the entertainment unit. I turned on the TV and the ten-ton VCR that I’d dragged out of the storage bin when I came home from work. “You have another present.”

I handed Emma the dusty black tape box that was on top of the VCR.

“TO EMMA,” it said on the index card taped to its cover. “FROM DAD.”

“What?” she said, her eyes suddenly about the size of manhole covers. “But I thought you said everything was lost in the fire when I was three. All the tapes. All the pictures.”

“Your dad put this in the safety deposit box right before he went into the hospital for the last time,” I said. “I know how badly you’ve been dying to know who your dad was. I wanted to give this to you so many times. But Kevin had said he wanted you to get it today. I thought it would be best to honor his wishes.”