The knock came on the door, and Pebbles went wild. She loved everyone, but she greeted Jen with particular joy. Maybe she knew this was as close to Lauren as she could get. Maybe they smelled similar, the two Carlisle sisters.

“Pebbles! Hello, my baby! Hello! I missed you!”

Josh waited, accustomed to the dog getting love first. Eventually, Jen straightened. “Hey, how are you?” Jen said. She hugged him. “Good to see you. Oh! I like what you did here! Is this coffee table new?”

“No. The couch is. You’ve been here since I got it. But the rug is new.” He’d seen it on an auction site Lauren had registered for, and thought it would look nice against the old floors. “Coffee? Cookies? We— I have your favorite. Sumi’s sesame cookies?”

“Oh, yes! No coffee, please. Got some milk? Soy milk? Almond? I’m easy. Oh, wow, this couch is really comfy. I like it.”

It was her way of saying she didn’t mind that he’d changed things. He’d moved stuff around, even put some away. The small vase they’d gotten in Hawaii. A bowl of oval, gray stones, all from the beach on the Cape, each one meticulously chosen by Lauren. He couldn’t get rid of them, but he didn’t have to look at them every day.

Josh plated the cookies, poured himself some coffee and some soy milk for Jen and brought everything to the living room, sitting next to her. “You look good, Jen. How are you doing?”

“Good,” she said, though her eyes instantly teared. “Horrible. I miss her constantly. It’s like a hole in my chest, and I swear I can feel the wind blowing through it.”

He covered her hand with his and said nothing.

“I went to your psychic,” Jen said. She took a cookie and ate it whole.

“How was it?”

“It was good. It’s shocking. So get this. I walk in, right, and I don’t know why I’m there except that I miss her . . .” Her voice choked off, and she took a swig of milk. “And immediately, Gertie says, ‘Your sister is showing me a newborn baby. Are you pregnant?’” Jen started to cry. “And I am, Josh. Not even a month, but I am. You’re the first person I’ve told, outside of her and Darius.”

She turned to him and buried her face against his chest, sobbing, and he put his arms around her. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispered as she bawled. “This is great news.”

His wife would never know this baby, never hold her, never kiss her, never even have a photo with her. He understood Jen’s tears. His own were seeping into her hair.

“I hate that life is going on without her,” Jen said wetly. “I hate it.”