At home that evening Marcus helped me search the living room drawer for the yellowed band photograph.

I found it beneath a stack of old envelopes.

I laid it beside a photograph of Evelyn standing in the kitchen, a wooden spoon held to her mouth as if she were singing into a microphone.

Marcus said my mother would have liked that room.

I said she liked any room where somebody was making music.

He said she liked it when I made music too.

I picked up the band photograph.