ON HER WAY HOME, Emily played the moment over and over in her mind. “I’m leaving Dale, Hardy, effective immediately,” she’d said, and Cliff had actually laughed in her face.

“You don’t believe me? It’s true. I’m leaving, effective immediately,” she had said, and Cliff had finally looked confused, totally off his game, for a split second.

“And to prove my point, I’m leaving this office, and this terrifying party.”

A half hour later, Emily was walking through the door of her empty apartment. She removed her party dress. She poured herself a Coke. And then she did what every Summerhill child did when there was a crisis: She called Gaby.

She told her about the conversation with Cliff, and God bless her, Gaby said exactly what Emily needed to hear.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“It is?”

“Absolutely. Listen, Emily. Being a partner at a big-deal law firm is terrific, I guess…to someone else…not to you, and certainly not to me. Let me just tell you this: I’m proudest when you tell me you got a poor guy out of jail when he was sentenced unfairly,” Gaby said. “And that’s not me being a sap, that’s me being human, that’s me being me.”

What was there in Gaby’s voice that brought such wonderful peace to her children? That was the question all four of them always asked.

“I appreciate everything you’ve said, Mom. I really, really do. You’re the best.”

“I just say what I think.”

Maybe that was the source of Gaby’s kindness. There was a simple truth and decency to their mother that added strength and wisdom to whatever she said.

“And what does Bart think about all this?” Gaby finally asked.

A long pause.

“He doesn’t know.”

“Wow. You are the spunky one.”

“Was I wrong not to have discussed it with him?”

“What difference does it make now? The ship has sailed. Where is Dr. Perfect, anyway?”

“He’s working tonight too. On call. He thought I’d be late at the party, and…”

“So go and drink a big cup of tea or a big glass of your beloved high-octane Coca-Cola, watch Turner Classics, and get a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow you can get up here nice and early for my wedding.”

“Oh, while I’m thinking of it, Bart and I aren’t sure when exactly we’re going to show up, but we’ll definitely be there by Christmas Eve Day.”

“Why so late? It’s not like you have a job to go to,” Gaby said. They both laughed then, and Gaby said, “I do have one more thing to say.”

“I’ll take a wild guess. It’s about what I’ll be wearing to your wedding.”

“You’re a mind reader. Emily, it’s my only request: Please wear something festive. Not some deadly gray or dark blue Prada thing. This is not Manhattan, you know.”

“I was thinking of a yellow gingham dirndl.”

“Perfect. Good night, sweetie.”

“Oh, wait. There’s one other thing. Who did you say you were marrying?” Emily asked.

“Oh, Emily. You are so bad at cross-examination. It’s a good thing you left that law firm. Bye-bye. See you in my dreams.”

“Always, Mom. And thank you. I’m sure tonight I’ll see you in my dreams too.”