He moved into his new house, not a hundred percent sure it was the right time. It was right enough, he supposed. Every night, he lay awake for hours, a feeling of the surreal hovering over him in this new room with its different shadows and unfamiliar sounds. The wind shushed in the leaves, and he could hear the waves of Narragansett Bay sloshing at the edge of his property. His neighbors often hosted parties, and the sounds of music and laughter drifted on the air. They were good sounds. He’d get used to it.

He was grateful to have Radley on the third floor. They ate dinner a couple of times a week, sometimes watched TV together. He threw his friend the promised graduation party and met Radley’s classmates and other friends, among them Cammie, who gave him a big hug and invited him to Shine’s grand opening.

Josh had asked if he could invite Jen and Darius and the kids to the graduation party, and of course Radley had said yes. Sarah had been invited, too, and he watched her that day, her ease with Radley, the way she scooped up Octavia and pushed Sebastian on the swing.

It would be convenient, he admitted silently, to marry his wife’s best friend. He definitely cared about her. Loved her, even. She was pretty in a way that was different from his sparkly wife, and Josh thought that was a good thing. Sarah would give him space for Lauren’s memory. She could tell him stories of Lauren as a kid . . . and herself as a kid, too. She liked him. She was kind and hardworking. That could be enough.

Still, it took him another month to ask her out. He called rather than texted; it felt too momentous to do without hearing her voice.

“Hey, you,” she said. “What’s up?” He could hear the voices of her colleagues in the background, the shrill of a ringing phone.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me,” he said, and the words were not hard to say.

“Sure! When?”

“Uh . . . Saturday?”

“Okay. Where?”

“I don’t know. I’ll make a reservation.” He hadn’t thought where just yet. Somewhere romantic, he guessed.

“Great. Text me the details. I can meet you there.”

“I’ll pick you up.” He paused. “Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“I’m asking you on a date.” Once, Lauren had said almost the exact same words to him.

There was a long silence. “Oh.”

“If it’s a horrible idea, tell me now, okay?” It hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t want to date him; he hadn’t even thought to wonder. It was Lauren’s idea, and Lauren had known them both so well.

Another pause. “Um . . . it’s not a horrible idea. Not at all.”

Nothing else. Another beat passed. Another. Another.

“Okay, I’ll text you tomorrow,” he said.

“Yeah. Great. Talk to you later, Josh.”