She turned, her eyes wide, and blinked a couple of times. “Sure. Yes. Absolutely.” Pink flushed to her cheeks. Pretty.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he added. “You know. Just because you ruined our dinner, or because I’m a tragic widower.” He was flirting. Wow. He was flirting.

“No, no! You’re wicked hot. Oh, God. I’m sorry. Should I have said that? Well, it’s out there, isn’t it? I mean, you have a mirror, you must know.” She was blushing furiously now. “Yes, I would go out with you. I thought you were nice the first time I met you at the vet’s.”

He smiled, then extended his hand. “Joshua Park.”

She took it, and he felt attraction flow up his arm like cool silk. “Rose Connelly,” she said.

He froze, still gripping her hand. “Rose?”

“Yes. My mom was a huge Titanic fan.” She pulled a face. “But I have to say, I love that movie, too.”

He let go of her hand. “Rose was my wife’s middle name.”

Her mouth parted a little. “Really.”

He nodded. They looked at each other a long minute. “Can I have your phone number?” he asked, and she patted her apron for a pen, found one and wrote it down on a napkin. Very old-fashioned of her.

“Okay, then,” she said. “It was . . . yeah. It was very nice to see you, Joshua.”

“It was very nice to see you, too, Rose.”

He should go now. Another minute, and he’d lose the cool factor. But somehow, he suspected Rose Connelly wouldn’t mind.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

“I’ll be glad when you do,” she answered.

Get out before you ruin it, he told himself, so he left, feeling . . . well, feeling a little . . . elated. He forgot where he’d parked the car, and just walked for a while in the soft summer air, the sounds of music and people and sirens all blending together like a song.

Rose Connelly. Rose.

If a person believed in that kind of thing, a person might wonder at how many times Josh had run into Rose Connelly in the past year and a half. The vet’s office that first time. The mall, the first night he’d met Radley when he’d punched the rude customer, unknowingly defending her honor. The marathon, where she’d helped him. Last Christmas, when she’d literally been right in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

Gertie the psychic had mentioned roses, too.

Josh stopped walking.

Holy shit.

And now, the first time he’d ever considered dating anyone other than Lauren, Rose was here again.

A person—a husband—might read into that. He might think his wife worked in mysterious ways to take care of the man she had loved so much.

“Thank you,” he said, looking upward. Those had been her last words to him. “Thank you,” he repeated. He knew, he knew tonight had made her happy.

Which was all he’d ever wanted.

EPILOGUE

Joshua

Fifty-four years left

LAUREN’S GARDEN AT the Hope Center had become Josh’s favorite place in Providence. He walked past it almost every day, in fact, and most days stopped in for at least a few minutes.

But today was special. On this sunny spring day, they were planting Lauren’s tree, and the May weather couldn’t have approved more. The carefully planned garden was bursting with color and life, from the pink crab apple blossoms to the pale purple of the lilacs.

Everyone who had loved Lauren was here. Jen stood next to him with her three children—Sebastian getting tall and gangly, little Octavia, pretty in her blue dress, a cloud of dark curls around her perfect face. Leah, now almost three, was trying to climb out of Darius’s arms to get into mischief. Josh smiled at her; she reminded him of Lauren so much. Next to them, Donna and Bill, who had gotten married last year. His own mom and the Kims. Ben gave him a nod, ever reassuring.

Asmaa was talking about the garden, and how families came together here to grow their own vegetables, to teach kids about botany, to have a beautiful oasis in the city. Josh was so grateful to her for still doing the good work that had given him a second chance to meet Lauren, and later, the chance to give back and get out of his shell when he was grieving. Mara from RISD was here, and Bruce the Mighty and Beneficent, who had donated ten grand in Lauren’s name.

Radley, the world’s best friend, stood with his fiancé, Frank the Realtor. They had their own place now, just down the road from the house in Cranston. Sarah was here, too, of course. Good old Sarah. She was dating Mateo, one of Josh’s engineers, who was five years younger than she was and, from all appearances, smitten.

There was another person here. Someone Lauren had never met, someone standing at Joshua’s side, her hand in his.

His wife.

Pretty Rose with the pink cheeks and dark hair, now even more beautiful. She was pregnant, though they were keeping that to themselves until the first trimester was past. Josh suspected his mom knew, though, because when they’d come here, she had handed Rose a bottle of water and asked if she wanted a chair.

His mom caught his eye and smiled. Yep. She knew. That was fine.

Josh looked at the dogwood tree, now nearly five feet tall. Its trunk was straight and strong, and the blossoms Lauren had so loved seemed to float on the air, perfect in their simplicity, their beauty.

It would grow well here.

“I’ll turn it over to you, now, Josh,” Asmaa said.

Rose squeezed his hand. “You’ve got this,” she whispered. He kissed her temple and went to the microphone.

For more than three years now, he’d taken good care of Lauren’s tree. It was time to give it a home. All these people would know this was Lauren’s garden. They’d all come see her tree. Someday, Josh would bring his kids to this garden, and they would play here.