Emily, the new hostess, brought over two menus and whispered in my ear, “Table thirty-four.” I realized tonight I was the master of ceremonies, not Daddy. The moment overwhelmed me. This was Daddy’s gig. I allowed my thoughts to wander to him, wished he were here, and hoped he was proud of his children. This was Hank Edgeworth’s legacy. The three of us. I swallowed hard and took the Whitneys to their table. Lea swooped in right behind me to take orders. I said another prayer of gratitude for her. She had saved both of Hank Edgeworth’s children in different ways.

“I was going to ask where your perch was tonight. I see you are the grande dame,” Annabel observed.

“Didn’t I tell you Bailey is amazing?” Mac added.

I saw Griffin motioning for me and excused myself. He moved around the bar to join me.

About that time, I saw them: Elle and Reggie. I looked at them and then back at Griffin. I’d been texting with them all day. “How?” I asked him.

“Because they’re your best friends. They should be here,” Griffin whispered in my ear. I turned to him, and in the room full of people, I took his face in my hands and kissed him, not withholding anything.

They approached us. “Can you believe Griffin flew us in this afternoon?” Elle said. Their hands were waving in the air ready for hugs. Forgetting myself, my duties, and everything else, I embraced them. For the first time in my life, I squealed. They had transformed me and my life.

“Table thirty-seven,” Griffin said. I looked at him.

“That’s our best table,” I whispered.

“They’re your best friends,” he countered, kissing me again. “I’ll take over. Sit down with the girls for a while,” Griffin encouraged.

We slid into the booth, and six-year-old Hank in his white cook’s jacket placed two amuse-bouches in front of them. “Swordfish over fig risotto,” he announced. Both women extended compliments to our young chef.

“That was some public display of affection we just witnessed,” Reggie said. Elle said nothing. She was privy to the terms and true limits of our affection.

“Public is the only sort of affection we are allowed to have these days,” I said to Reggie.

Griffin appeared with a tray of drinks. “Your white wine, Reggie. Pink lemonade for you, Elle. Something a little different for you, Bae. I call it the Sideways.” So many things to comment on. Griffin sat down for a moment.

“Pink lemonade?” I asked. “When is the baby due?” Our easy rhythm was restored.

“April Fools’,” Elle said, and we all laughed. “Griffin booked us a fancy hotel room, and you’re spending the night.”