“Guys. Am I right?” Claire washed down the icing with a sip from the bottle. “Samantha was older and a real rebel. Dr. Bruce wanted her to go into medicine, too, but Samantha bailed on college and took off. I hear she’s dealing blackjack in Vegas now, but who knows. Anyway, Samantha left, and Mrs. Bruce got sick almost immediately. When she died, Dr. Bruce invested all his hopes in Richard—like Richard was responsible for carrying on some kind of legacy. You know, he got accepted to a residency program in Boston, right?”

Tessa shook her head. Did Richard intend to share any of this information?

“Oh, yeah. The best program in the country. But when Dr. Bruce had a stroke, he really tightened the screws. So, Richard came home.” Claire met her gaze. “Please don’t tell him I told you. I just—I think you’re great for him. You should know this stuff, and who knows when he’ll get around to sharing it.”

Yeah, no joke. She scooped the last blob of icing from her plate. It was dry on the edges and crunched almost too sweetly between her molars.

Claire leaned over the table and lowered her tone. “In the midst of his residency, Richard became his dad’s primary caregiver—not an easy job. Dr. Bruce rode roughshod over his son until the day he died.”

“I can’t fathom that—knowing Richard now.” She twisted her ponytail into a tight bun, as if squeezing her brain would make Claire’s story any easier to under-stand. “So now his father is gone, why doesn’t Richard just leave?”

“No idea. Of course, Tyler doesn’t want to lose him, but he realizes St. Luke’s doesn’t offer everything a big hospital in an urban area would. Richard won’t even look.” Claire dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “You didn’t know any of this, did you?”

A second slice of cake was in order. Grabbing the knife, she shook her head. “Not really. He mostly talks about med school, and those memories seem happy. Taking swing dancing classes…”

“Oh yeah, that was all Jane.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Jane?”

Eyes wide, Claire hurled her napkin onto the table. “Oh, come on.”

Tessa shrugged.

“He hasn’t told you about Jane?”

From the seismic measure of Claire’s exasperation, she guessed Jane was yet another epic chapter in the saga of Richard Bruce. She flashed to the pretty brunette smiling from the photo in Richard’s hallway and forked a golf ball-sized hunk of cake. “Uh-uh.”

“Jane, his ex-fiancée Jane?”

A glob of icing wrapped around her tonsils, bringing instant tears to her eyes. She spluttered and lunged for her napkin.

Claire offered the water bottle. “Drink.”

“I’m good.” She gestured toward a box of choc-olate milk.

“Drink.” Claire nudged the bottle and winked. “Iced tea.”