“Thank you,” Radley said. “I appreciate it. My parents hated me being gay, because they’re the type of Mainers who love camping, Jesus, and squirrel for Sunday dinner. So what’s a gay kid to do except leave home and become a shrink?”

“It’s a great profession.” He assumed so, anyway. He’d never been to one.

“What do you do, Joshua?”

“I’m a medical device engineer.”

“That makes you sound very smart.”

He shrugged. When the waiter asked if they wanted another round, he said yes.

They talked about life in Providence, drank, and ate nachos. There was definitely some comfort in talking to someone who didn’t share his loss, didn’t have memories of Lauren, didn’t miss her.

“So . . . my wife wrote these letters for me,” he told Radley. “That’s why I was shopping tonight. She told me to get new clothes.”

“Wise woman,” Radley murmured.

Josh smiled. “She was.”

“Maybe there’s more to getting new clothes than new clothes.”

“You definitely sound like a therapist now.”

Radley smiled. “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And sometimes it isn’t.”

A man came up to their table and slid in next to Radley. “Hey, Radley. Who’s your friend?”

“Joshua . . . whoops, I don’t know your last name.”

“Park.”

“I’m Todd, Joshua, and I think you’re super attractive.”

“Nope,” said Radley. “He’s straight and his wife just died, okay? Some space, if it’s not too much?”

“Oh, shit, I’m so, so sorry,” the man said, backing away. “So sorry. My condolences.”

Then Josh was laughing, all of a sudden. Maybe it was the alcohol, because he did feel sort of spinny and light, or maybe it was the other end of his sob-fest in the dressing room, but he laughed and laughed, and Radley sat back and watched him. “His name is Todd,” Josh explained. Why that was funny, he didn’t know. But it was.

Radley shook his head and smiled. “I’ll drive your car back to your place,” he said, like a wise old uncle. “I can Uber from there.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Josh said. “These nachos are really, really good.”

An hour or so later, Josh was in bed. Radley had typed his name and number into Josh’s phone, took a selfie of the two of them for the contact picture and got into the Lyft Josh had summoned for him.

Josh was dizzy and floating and not sad. Well, not just sad. He was a little bit happy.

He’d had— Was it true? He’d almost had fun tonight. He’d punched someone. He had clothes that Lauren hadn’t bought and had never seen, and for some reason, that made him feel better.

And most of all, he was fairly sure he had a new friend.

“Pretty sneaky, hon,” he said, and then he was asleep.

13

Lauren

Sixteen months left

October 10