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The sign on the door of the Great Lost Bear said that it was closed for a private event. Inside, the Bear was buzzing, with food laid out on long tables and an open bar. Dave and Weslie Evans were seated at the front of four rows of chairs, guests of honor on the occasion of their retirement after more than forty years. As staff and patrons lined up to sing their praises, Dave and Weslie bore the distinctive expression of bewilderment that the naturally kind wear when confronted with public testaments to their decency, as though unable to recognize themelves in what they were hearing.

In one corner sat the Fulci Brothers, wearing T-shirts commemorating the event, theirs being the only ones made in 4XL. Beside them was Byrd Jackson, formerly the Bear’s restaurant manager and now one of the new owners. She was speaking intently to them and they were listening with equal concentration. When she was done, she kissed and hugged them both. They caught me looking in their direction, raised their glasses, and smiled. I saluted them back as Byrd came over.

“Thanks for being here,” she said.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” Behind me, the door opened, and Angel and Louis entered. “Neither would they,” I added.

There was a final speech, and a last round of applause, before a band began to play. I saw Macy working her way through the crowd to be with me.

“What were you saying to Tony and Paulie?” I asked Byrd.

“I was putting their minds at rest. They were worried they wouldn’t have a place here, now that Dave and Weslie are leaving.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them that they’d always have a place at the Bear,” she said. Her eyes were shining. “After all, where else would they go?” She kissed me on the cheek. “Where else would any of us go?”

And the band played on.