Cammie, his favorite working girl, recommended someone for the job, and so Josh was now in charge of three people—Erika, Mateo and Andrea, who was in her fifties and immediately became the mother of the group, reminding people to drink water and go home on time. She went on coffee runs and bought art and plants and miscellaneous stuff for the offices to “sex it up in here.” Within weeks, Josh couldn’t remember how he’d lived without her.

When their business cards came, he looked at his for a long while.

Lauren would’ve been so proud.

Joshua Park, BFA, ScM, PhD

Vice President and Lead Designer, Biomedical Engineering

Chiron Medical Enterprises

He gave one to his mom, and she put it on the fridge, like it was a drawing he’d made in kindergarten. He also sent one to Christopher M. Zane with a note—Hope you’re doing well. Best, Joshua. Maybe, someday, he’d go to Chicago and meet his half siblings. Maybe.

Being on his own wasn’t what he wanted anymore. It was too lonely. He didn’t want to revert to that dorky, solitary workaholic Lauren had dated. He wanted to be more. Loving her, and losing her, had changed him, and he didn’t want to go backward.

But still, the letter waited. He found ways to pretend it wasn’t there.

He had a life these days, sort of, even if it had started as a substitute for Lauren. He was a regular at the Eddy, though their ever-changing staff never could remember his name. He and Jen met there every other Wednesday for lunch, and sometimes Darius would join them. Radley and he still went there often, and since it was close to the office, he started taking his staff there, too.

He was heading up the robotics team at the Hope Center, which meant they would crush all other teams. He got his purple belt and graduated to be with the nine-year-olds. He visited the house in Cranston, which Radley was itching to name, and ripped out the kitchen countertops and took a sledgehammer to the hideous lime-green master bathroom. Radley had already furnished the office above the garage in anticipation of having his practice there.

The cherry blossoms burst forth, thrilling old gray Providence with color and beauty. Sarah went on a dating hiatus per Radley’s suggestion.

The letter waited.

And then, on a night in mid-April, two months after he was supposed to open it, Josh poured himself a glass of wine, called Pebbles up next to him, and held the letter in his hands.

Josh, #12

The last one.

For a year, she had walked him through his grief. For a year, she’d loved him from the Great Beyond, guiding him, getting him out of his own way, making him feel her love, hear her voice. For a year, he had had her even after he’d lost her.