The blue boxes tied with white ribbon came from Aunt Serena. The brown-and-white-striped bags came from Grandma Lily. If the present was too big for boxes or paper but tied with a huge satin bow, then it was from Daddy.

But the best presents didn't have any wrapping at all. The best presents were Mommy's.

For her sixth birthday, Mommy took her to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center, just the two of them. The dancers twirled around the stage, their stiff skirts white like the snowflakes on the sidewalk. When the big man in front of her blocked her view, Mommy pulled Audrey onto her lap. She watched the rest of the ballet from the cloud of Mommy's black tulle skirts, Mommy's perfume tickling her nose.

Did you like the ballet, Audrey?

Yes, Mommy, thank you. But I don't want to be a ballerina anymore. I want to be an astronaut.

Okay, Audrey. Next year let's go to the moon.

For her seventh birthday, Mommy took her to tea at the Plaza. Violins played and waiters in tuxedos carried them little sandwiches and pastries on silver trays. Audrey folded her white-gloved hands in her lap, bright against her blue velvet dress. She admired the pearl buttons that fastened at the wrists, just like the ones on Mommy's gloves, and the blue velvet headband that matched Mommy's purple. She didn't like the gloves so well when she lifted the china teapot to refill Mommy's cup and the handle slipped out of her fingers.

I'm sorry, Mommy.

Don't worry, Audrey. The dress will clean. I'd rather have your smile.

One lump or two, Mommy?

On her eighth birthday, Mommy came into her room at six-thirty in the morning, zipped up tight in a black cocktail dress, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. She pulled Audrey out of bed and into a black dress of her own. That morning, they stood outside the Tiffany store windows and ate croissants and drank hot chocolate and coffee from cardboard cups. Later, Mommy took two animal masks—a dog and a cat— from her Kelly bag and they ran through the Public Library, pulling faces at the lions on their way out.

Do you like your pony, Audrey?

Oh, yes, Daddy. It's one of the best presents ever.

He smiled because he knew the truth, too. Mommy gave the very best presents, even if they didn't come with bows.