Chapter 23 - THE GALA FINALLY HAPPENS
Twenty years after the canceled gala, the Blackwood Foundation invited me to its anniversary event.
I almost declined.
Then Rose, twenty, said:
“Go.”
“Why?”
“Because I want free food.”
Fair.
The venue was not the Blackwood mansion.
A public arts center.
Vivian, now eighty-three, attended in a wheelchair after hip surgery.
Ethan came separately.
No one seated us together.
The foundation had become independently governed years earlier.
Its work was ordinary philanthropy.
Housing.
Hotel-worker scholarships.
Historic preservation.
No family transaction hidden behind dinner.
I wore a dark green gown.
Rose wore silver.
Richard, eighty-one, complained his tuxedo was uncomfortable.
Good.
At dinner, someone handed me a pen for a donor pledge card.
I stared.
Rose noticed.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“It’s twenty dollars.”
I laughed so hard people turned.
May you like
I signed.
Informed consent achieved.
