He hadn’t liked Sarah that much when he’d first been introduced. The two women had been friends since elementary school, but Josh wondered if they would have been friends if they met as adults. Sarah had an edge to her, a subtle resentment toward Lauren, glittering like a piece of glass in the sand. He saw it immediately, and kept seeing it every time they got together, during their engagement, even at the wedding. She went through the motions required, but it was clear she envied Lauren.

Then again, who wouldn’t? His wife had always been the brightest star in the sky.

But after the diagnosis, Sarah had been a rock. A perfect friend to Lauren. A helper for him, even.

He took a shower, listlessly rubbed soap over himself, then got dressed in not-filthy clothes and went into the living room. Sarah had opened the shades and windows, and had thrown out a lot of food cartons and pizza boxes. Made herself right at home, he saw. She was now using that weird little mop that picked up dog hair. Swiffer, that was it. It irked him that Sarah knew where everything was.

That being said, there was a lot of dog hair on the Swiffer cloth. Sarah took it off, tossed it in the trash and replaced it efficiently.

He sat down on the couch. “What’s so important, Sarah?” Oh. She was wiping her eyes. Right. She’d lost her best friend, and he could be a little nicer. Lauren would want him to. “It’s good to see you,” he lied.

She took a deep breath and let it out, then sank into the chair opposite him. Pebbles sat next to her, whining a little, making Josh feel guilty.

“First of all, this dog is getting a little chunky,” she said.

“Yeah, I . . . I might be overfeeding her.”

“Maybe she needs to get out more.”

He nodded, looking at the floor. Pebbles deserved better, it was true.

“This is tough, being here without her.” Sarah’s voice shook.

“Yes.” He searched his brain for something to say. “How have you been?”

“Shitty. Lonely. Heartbroken. You know.”

“Right.”

Sarah scooped her long hair around her neck to one side. Blond hair. It seemed like blond women valued their hair above all else, always calling attention to it. It was pretty enough, he supposed. Lauren’s hair had been deep, dark red, and so shiny. He didn’t know the word for hair the color of Lauren’s. Chestnut? Burgundy? Irish setter? So much more interesting than blond. To him, anyway.

Sarah pressed her fingertips under her eyes, wiping away more tears. He passed her a box of Kleenex from the coffee table.

“Thanks,” she said. She blotted her eyes and blew her nose, then stuffed the tissue in her bag. “Here’s the thing, Josh,” she said. “Lauren asked me to do something for you.”