I was torn. I wanted to be with them, but I also wanted to be with Griffin to recap the night. Griffin had done this intentionally. We had commemorated every opening in some form of horizontal fashion. I just looked at him. Then I looked down at my drink. It looked the same, but it was different. The orange color was not as robust. A slice of lime had replaced the usual orange garnish. Griffin had arranged the lime artistically, pushing out sections to look like the petals of a flower.

I raised my glass in a toast. “To great expectations,” I said. I clinked glasses with everyone before taking a sip. It was different. More nuanced than my regular sidecar. I took several tastes. “Lime juice. What else?”

“I went old-school. Courvoisier, simple syrup, triple sec, orange juice, lemon juice and lime juice, and a little something. Can you guess?” He waited. “Sprite to give it a little effervescence.”

“I love it, Griffin.” I toasted to him. I always associated Griffin with sidecars, never Elliott. “You need to say a few words to our guests,” he told me. “Henry and I will join you.” A couple years ago, public speaking intimidated me. But because of Elliott and his “illness,” I had learned to mix and mingle with guests in his restaurant. Henry stepped out from the kitchen with a glass of sparkling water, Griffin did the same, and I joined them in the middle with a glass of champagne. Henry clinked a table knife against the side of his glass to get everyone’s attention. When they quieted, I knew that was my cue to speak.

“Welcome to VERT reimagined. We hope you feel at home here. It’s a gathering space just like your kitchen—except with a lot more tables and no food fights or boring uncles. We hope.” There was laughter and applause. “This is, after all, a family business. When you’re here, you’re part of our family. I may be partial, but my brother, Henry, is probably one of the best chefs in the country. And if you will allow me a personal privilege, his restaurant NOIR just received another prestigious award, their first Michelin star. The first Atlanta restaurant to garner such acclaim. I’ve always said Henry is a virtuoso in the kitchen, and he isn’t a bad brother either. His partner in crime, Griffin Hardwick, is the most talented and creative mixologist around. To celebrate or to drown your sorrows, he has a concoction to soothe the soul. I hope you’ll keep us in mind whether you are having a family gathering or dining alone. We want you to feel welcome, truly like part of our family.