He was so grateful that, for that first year without her, his wife’s love had walked beside him.
And he was better. He was doing fine. He’d invited all of Lauren’s family to have pizza at his offices one night, and pushed Octavia and Sebastian around in the comfy office chairs, making them shriek with glee. The next week, when Jen had her third baby, he’d visited her and his new baby niece in the hospital, and he didn’t cry. They asked him to be godfather to Leah Grace, and of course he said yes.
A few weeks ago, he’d flown to Singapore and spent two weeks there, working with the team, attending meetings, going out for dinner. The company put him up in a swanky rental apartment with a balcony overlooking the sparkling city and told him it was his whenever he needed to come out. They showed him the design for an MRI-guided ultrasound device that would ablate tiny particles of brain matter for people with persistent tremors. It had the potential to treat epilepsy with some modifications, too. Within an hour, Josh had tweaked the design so it required two fewer parts and would cost significantly less to produce.
Back in Rhode Island, he packed up the apartment, putting all but two photos of him and Lauren in a box. He put her more valuable jewelry in a safe-deposit box to give to Sebastian, Octavia and Leah someday. He kept a few things from his married life to bring to his new house, then invited Lauren’s friends to come and take whatever they wanted—a rug, a lamp, a painting.
And then, amid the boxes and paintings in the now-echoing apartment, he took off his wedding ring.
He moved into his new house, not a hundred percent sure it was the right time. It was right enough, he supposed. Every night, he lay awake for hours, a feeling of the surreal hovering over him in this new room with its different shadows and unfamiliar sounds. The wind shushed in the leaves, and he could hear the waves of Narragansett Bay sloshing at the edge of his property. His neighbors often hosted parties, and the sounds of music and laughter drifted on the air. They were good sounds. He’d get used to it.
He was grateful to have Radley on the third floor. They ate dinner a couple of times a week, sometimes watched TV together. He threw his friend the promised graduation party and met Radley’s classmates and other friends, among them Cammie, who gave him a big hug and invited him to Shine’s grand opening.
Josh had asked if he could invite Jen and Darius and the kids to the graduation party, and of course Radley had said yes. Sarah had been invited, too, and he watched her that day, her ease with Radley, the way she scooped up Octavia and pushed Sebastian on the swing.
It would be convenient, he admitted silently, to marry his wife’s best friend. He definitely cared about her. Loved her, even. She was pretty in a way that was different from his sparkly wife, and Josh thought that was a good thing. Sarah would give him space for Lauren’s memory. She could tell him stories of Lauren as a kid . . . and herself as a kid, too. She liked him. She was kind and hardworking. That could be enough.
Still, it took him another month to ask her out. He called rather than texted; it felt too momentous to do without hearing her voice.
“Hey, you,” she said. “What’s up?” He could hear the voices of her colleagues in the background, the shrill of a ringing phone.
“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me,” he said, and the words were not hard to say.
“Sure! When?”
“Uh . . . Saturday?”
“Okay. Where?”
“I don’t know. I’ll make a reservation.” He hadn’t thought where just yet. Somewhere romantic, he guessed.
“Great. Text me the details. I can meet you there.”
“I’ll pick you up.” He paused. “Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“I’m asking you on a date.” Once, Lauren had said almost the exact same words to him.
There was a long silence. “Oh.”
“If it’s a horrible idea, tell me now, okay?” It hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t want to date him; he hadn’t even thought to wonder. It was Lauren’s idea, and Lauren had known them both so well.
Another pause. “Um . . . it’s not a horrible idea. Not at all.”
Nothing else. Another beat passed. Another. Another.
“Okay, I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said.
“Yeah. Great. Talk to you later, Josh.”
* * *
HE PICKED HER up on Saturday night. She wore a flowered dress that caught the breeze, flashing a glimpse of her excellent legs. She had always been lean and athletic, and those were some great legs.
“Hi,” she said, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek, the way he always did, as she leaned in to hug him. He ended up kissing her on the ear instead.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, no. This is a little weird, but . . . it’s really nice, too.” She got in his car, filling it with a spicy smell, deeper than Lauren’s perfume. “Where are we going?”
“Mill’s Tavern.”
“Nice.”
He pulled away from her curb and drove through Providence. After a minute or two, he realized he should speak. “How was your day?”
“Good! It was relaxing. I did some gardening. You?”
“Also good. I worked, but I also took Pebbles for a swim.”
“Oh, does she love being near the water?” Sarah asked, her voice warming. She loved that dog. A good sign.
“She does. She swims around, barking like a maniac. I think she’s trying to herd the fish.”
She laughed.
This could be it, he thought. Josh and Sarah, Sarah and Josh. Why not?
They got to the restaurant and were seated at a nice table. Josh had worn a Radley-approved outfit from Banana Republic—chinos, a checked purple-and-blue shirt cuffed at the wrist, loafers with no socks (which felt weird and was something he would not do again).
“You look nice,” he said to Sarah.
“Thank you. So do you.”
Their server came over. “Hi! Welcome to Mill’s Tavern! Are we ready to order our drinks?”
“I’m not. I don’t know about you,” Sarah answered.
Josh looked up. “I’ll have a glass of sauvignon blanc—oh, hey.”
It was the woman from the vet and the marathon. And the Eddy. Duffy the dog’s owner.
“Hi! How are you?” She beamed, clearly recognizing him.
“Good,” he said. “Very good. Um, Sarah?”
“I’ll have a cosmo,” she said. “Grey Goose, very faintly pink, squeeze the lime. Thank you.” Quite specific, and ordered firmly. Sarah would be good with kids, he thought.