Rose Connelly. Rose.
If a person believed in that kind of thing, a person might wonder at how many times Josh had run into Rose Connelly in the past year and a half. The vet’s office that first time. The mall, the first night he’d met Radley when he’d punched the rude customer, unknowingly defending her honor. The marathon, where she’d helped him. Last Christmas, when she’d literally been right in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.
Gertie the psychic had mentioned roses, too.
Josh stopped walking.
Holy shit.
And now, the first time he’d ever considered dating anyone other than Lauren, Rose was here again.
A person—a husband—might read into that. He might think his wife worked in mysterious ways to take care of the man she had loved so much.
“Thank you,” he said, looking upward. Those had been her last words to him. “Thank you,” he repeated. He knew, he knew tonight had made her happy.
Which was all he’d ever wanted.
EPILOGUE
Joshua
Fifty-four years left
LAUREN’S GARDEN AT the Hope Center had become Josh’s favorite place in Providence. He walked past it almost every day, in fact, and most days stopped in for at least a few minutes.
But today was special. On this sunny spring day, they were planting Lauren’s tree, and the May weather couldn’t have approved more. The carefully planned garden was bursting with color and life, from the pink crab apple blossoms to the pale purple of the lilacs.
Everyone who had loved Lauren was here. Jen stood next to him with her three children—Sebastian getting tall and gangly, little Octavia, pretty in her blue dress, a cloud of dark curls around her perfect face. Leah, now almost three, was trying to climb out of Darius’s arms to get into mischief. Josh smiled at her; she reminded him of Lauren so much. Next to them, Donna and Bill, who had gotten married last year. His own mom and the Kims. Ben gave him a nod, ever reassuring.
Asmaa was talking about the garden, and how families came together here to grow their own vegetables, to teach kids about botany, to have a beautiful oasis in the city. Josh was so grateful to her for still doing the good work that had given him a second chance to meet Lauren, and later, the chance to give back and get out of his shell when he was grieving. Mara from RISD was here, and Bruce the Mighty and Beneficent, who had donated ten grand in Lauren’s name.
Radley, the world’s best friend, stood with his fiancé, Frank the Realtor. They had their own place now, just down the road from the house in Cranston. Sarah was here, too, of course. Good old Sarah. She was dating Mateo, one of Josh’s engineers, who was five years younger than she was and, from all appearances, smitten.
There was another person here. Someone Lauren had never met, someone standing at Joshua’s side, her hand in his.
His wife.
Pretty Rose with the pink cheeks and dark hair, now even more beautiful. She was pregnant, though they were keeping that to themselves until the first trimester was past. Josh suspected his mom knew, though, because when they’d come here, she had handed Rose a bottle of water and asked if she wanted a chair.
His mom caught his eye and smiled. Yep. She knew. That was fine.
Josh looked at the dogwood tree, now nearly five feet tall. Its trunk was straight and strong, and the blossoms Lauren had so loved seemed to float on the air, perfect in their simplicity, their beauty.
It would grow well here.
“I’ll turn it over to you, now, Josh,” Asmaa said.
Rose squeezed his hand. “You’ve got this,” she whispered. He kissed her temple and went to the microphone.
For more than three years now, he’d taken good care of Lauren’s tree. It was time to give it a home. All these people would know this was Lauren’s garden. They’d all come see her tree. Someday, Josh would bring his kids to this garden, and they would play here.
It was nice to think Lauren would see them.
His throat was tight, and everyone was looking at him. Right. He was supposed to talk now.
“Lauren was . . . remarkable,” he said, and his voice was strong and full of emotion. “The best sister, daughter, aunt and friend anyone could have. I was so lucky to be her husband.”
He glanced at Rose, who gave him a watery smile and a nod. The only thing she’d ever said about Lauren was how much she wished she could’ve met her. They had a lot in common, Josh thought. Kindness. A huge capacity for love.
“Lauren died too soon,” he continued, “but she lived with such love and happiness, such joy and purpose. In my eyes, she was perfect.” He stopped, swallowing. “She taught me how to live, even when she was dying. Even after she died—especially after she died—she was my best teacher. It’s my honor today to dedicate this tree to her memory. She loved this place, and she loved all of you.”
Everyone clapped and sniffled and wiped their eyes. A gardener was waiting by the tree, and as Josh approached, he set it in the hole and gave a nod.
Everyone was quiet. With his back to the crowd, Josh reached into his jacket pocket, took something out and dropped it into the hole.
His wedding ring. The one Lauren had given him. It gleamed there, nestled against the dark earth. Maybe it would grow into the roots themselves and become part of the tree itself. Josh hoped so.
Then Josh covered it with a shovelful of dirt and handed the shovel to Donna, who did the same. Then it was Jen’s turn, and Sebastian’s and Octavia’s. Darius helped Leah, who said, “I did it, Daddy!” and everyone laughed. The shovel was passed from person to person. His mom, Sarah, Asmaa, Ben.
“You too, Rosie,” Jen said. “You’re family. Don’t be shy.”
Rose looked over at him, and he nodded. Her cheeks flushed, and he knew she was glad to be included.
A little while later, as everyone left through the garden gate, Josh stayed, holding back. They were all going out for lunch, the first time they’d all be together since his and Rose’s wedding a few months ago.
When no one was left and Josh was alone in the garden, he turned back to look at the tree. It seemed as if it had always been there. He couldn’t wait to see it grow.
A small breeze rustled through, ruffling his hair.
For a second, he felt his wife, felt her love wrap around him. She had promised to always be with him, and he believed her. I love you, he thought. I always will.
Rose was waiting for him just outside the garden walls. “You good, honey?” she asked.
“I am.” He kissed her gently and, unable to resist no matter who might see, put his hand against her stomach. “I love you,” he said, because it was true. Then he took her hand, and they caught up with the others, and the sun seemed to glow just a little bit brighter in the vast and brilliant sky.