“So her family life . . . that was just one more thing she had that I didn’t. Did you know the Carlisles ate together every night? Every night! My mom worked nights, so I always made my own dinner. Frozen pizza and shit like that.”

Josh made a noncommittal noise. He and his mom had eaten together every night, too, and at least once a week with the Kims. Once in a while, his mom would go out with her friends or attend a lecture, in which case the Kims had him sleep over and treated him like their own son. From the age of eight until fourteen, he’d spent every afternoon at their house, fixing things in the basement with Ben, cooking with and being spoiled by Sumi.

The image of Sarah opening a cardboard box and eating pizza alone was awfully sad.

They ordered dessert, and the evening, which had been dragging earlier, was now quite . . . pleasant. Interesting. There was something to be said for this after all, this . . . interaction. Mining of information.

“Something happened to Lauren after her dad died,” Sarah said. “She grew up, I think.”

Josh nodded. “I thought so, too.” He hesitated, feeling slightly guilty. “The first time I met her, I thought she was a twit.”

“Are you serious?” Sarah exclaimed. “I thought it was love at first sight!”

“Second sight,” he admitted. “And I think you’re right. She had an easy life, and she was missing a little . . .” He paused to find the right word.

“Gravitas?”

“Yes. Exactly.” Was he gossiping about his wife? He pushed his fork into the unnecessary whipped cream that accompanied his cheesecake, making a pattern and then smoothing it out and repeating the motion carefully, finding peace in the repetition. “But the next time we met, she was different. There was more . . . there was more to her. And she was only eighteen that first time. She had the right to be . . . young. Carefree. Goofy.”

Sarah nodded and wiped her eyes, managing a smile. “She was awesome when she was goofy.”

That was the truth. Lauren could make everyone laugh, herself most of all. How many nights had she fallen asleep giggling at her own joke, or starting a tickle war with him? She’d laughed in her dreams, even. “What were some of the goofy things you guys did together?” he asked.

“Oh, God. We used to write romance stories in school about our teachers and pass them back and forth. We’d torture Jen if I was sleeping over, spying on her, hiding in her closet to scare her later. Lauren loved talking in an accent with strangers. Russian was her best, I think.”

He hadn’t known that. The little tidbits were better than the dessert. Things he could take home later and play over and over. He felt unexpectedly grateful to Sarah, sharing all these prized memories.