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“Should I order a bottle of wine?” Arden asked.

“I think this is all the alcohol we should have right now,” I replied, nodding at Sylvia.

“Okay. I’ll get my favorite red by the glass. Tonight I want to have the filet mignon.” He winked. “Maybe Sylvia should have that, too.”

I ordered it for her, so I had to order it for myself, even though I had nowhere near the appetite to finish half of it.

All the table manners I had taught Sylvia over the years had their first real test this particular night, because she didn’t have the comfort and security her own home provided. Whenever anyone nearby laughed, she looked quickly to see if she had done something wrong. What made me laugh was the way she inspected the salad.

“They don’t cut the carrots right,” she said. “Some pieces are bigger than others.”

“It’s okay, Sylvia,” I said. “They don’t have someone with your artistic talent doing it, but it will taste the same.”

She looked at me skeptically. Maybe it would taste the same to me, I realized, but not to her. She did like the filet mignon and especially enjoyed the chocolate soufflé we had for dessert.

While we ate, some men stopped by to say hello to Arden. He introduced us, and Sylvia recited the “Pleased to meet you” I had practiced often with her. I could see all the men were attracted to her, but she was oblivious to the looks of admiration and desire in their eyes.

Before one particular man approached us, Arden informed me that he was one of the top five investors in our brokerage firm. He looked to be in his mid-sixties, with a tanned face and beautiful blue eyes. I thought he was close to Papa’s height. I recalled his name, Charles Billings, and I remembered him now from Papa’s funeral. He was one of the few who had attended the church service, but he hadn’t come to the house later.

“Now, how do you deserve two beautiful women, Arden, while most men here are lucky to have one?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

Sylvia’s eyes widened. She looked at me to see how I was going to react.

“Thank you, Mr. Billings,” I said, before Arden introduced us. “This is my sister, Sylvia.”

“I can see the resemblance. You lucky dog,” he told Arden.

“I married well,” Arden said, sounding a little peeved at the way I had taken control.

“In more ways than one,” Mr. Billings said. “Tough week in the market. I hope we see a little bull in the coming days.”

“We will,” Arden said, as if he had control of the stocks and bonds.

“So, what are you celebrating?” Mr. Billings asked, nodding at the champagne bottle in the bucket.

Arden looked at me for a moment with an expression on his face that I rarely saw these days. He looked like he was fighting not to burst with pride.

“We are almost one hundred percent sure,” he began, and turned to Mr. Billings, “that my wife is pregnant.”

Every muscle in my body seemed to collapse with shock. I had to put my glass of water down quickly, or I thought I would drop it.

“Well, congratulations,” Mr. Billings said. “Making money is great, but making a family is divine.”

“Exactly,” Arden said. “Thank you.”

I watched Mr. Billings walk away and saw him start to tell his wife and everyone at his table what Arden had just said. Sylvia had her attention completely on the chocolate soufflé now and apparently hadn’t heard a word. I stared at Arden, my eyes full of questions.

He just shook his head. “Don’t look so worried, Audrina.”

“Worried? Why did you say that?”

He smiled and finished his wine. Then he looked at the bottle of champagne. “A little left.” He poured it into his glass and drank it.

“Arden, answer me.”

“Relax, Audrina. I have a brilliant plan.”

I said nothing. After he paid the bill and we started to leave, he paused at Mr. Billings’s table, and Mr. Billings introduced his wife and his two friends.