“Hello. Have you met me? You know I take my job kind of seriously.” It was such an understatement that we all laughed. I could see soft lavender-colored napkins with sprigs of lavender tucked into each napkin at every place. I knew we could find a calligrapher to match the ink to the place cards. Elle was overjoyed.

The question hovered around again. Was it finally time to move in with Elliott? Reggie, Elle, and I discussed it. I spent most nights with Elliott, but there was the occasional night when he was having back pain that I liked having my own apartment. I liked my freedom. I decided to table my own decision until Reggie flew the coop.

My schedule was taking shape. Elle’s wedding was in June. I would take a week off from my business around Labor Day when things were slow to go home and check on all my men. Elliott didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be apart that long, but he relented after I explained I needed to see my father. And I agreed to move in with him when our lease ran out in September. After Labor Day, my calendar was marked for the grand opening of Ipanema with Gabriel.

Two weeks after Valentine’s Day, Elliott sank into a deep well. It seemed to me a potent mixture of wretched back pain and wicked moods. Rex managed the kitchen duties in Elliott’s absence. Reluctantly, I turned down several promising job offers so I could be at the restaurant in the late afternoon. I finished up at Ipanema then headed to Elliott’s restaurant to get ready to oversee the dinner crowd. It was hard to do the thing that came so effortlessly to both Henry and Elliott—small talk. I summoned those skills from long-ago Saturday nights with Daddy at the restaurant when we glided together from patron to patron. I would send complimentary appetizers to tables I recognized and to those I didn’t in hopes of return business. I learned that sending complimentary items over with a smile turned out to be a happy substitute for small talk.

I neglected my own business to keep Elliott’s afloat. I reasoned that the restaurant was just an extension of our relationship. After years of putting my career and my vision front and center, I decided to close my eyes and live a little. Instead of accepting high-profile gigs that would bring attention, accolades, and hopefully sizable paychecks, I took on smaller assignments. They were mainly cafeterias or private dining halls at liberal arts colleges or smaller restaurants that required only day trips. Going into each dining hall, I deliberately sought out the lonely table where I imagined I would be sitting.