“Really! That’s terrific! So . . . uh, what do you focus on?”

“Pediatrics, mostly. Some surgical devices. Adaptations for minimal invasiveness and pain.”

“That’s wonderful. That’s great, son.” He winced. “I’m sorry. Force of habit. I call a lot of my students that. Midwestern thing.”

“It’s okay. I am your son, I suppose. Genetically, if nothing else.”

“I can see a little bit of my father in you.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Right. Sorry. It’s hard to know the right thing to say.”

“I understand. This is an unusual situation.”

“Are you always this . . . self-contained?” his father asked with a faint smile.

“Most of the time, yes.”

His father’s smile grew. “Good for you.” Another pause. “Where did you go to school?”

“RISD, Brown, MIT.”

“Wow. So you got your mother’s brains.” Neither of them acknowledged the coincidence of them both going to the same school. Stephanie had never breathed a word when he’d been offered a spot at MIT.

“And where do you live now, Josh?”

“In Providence.”

“You and your mother are close?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He hesitated. “Are you married?” he asked, nodding at Josh’s left hand.

Josh looked at his wedding ring. “My wife died ten months ago. Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.”

His father’s face fell. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

What would Lauren do at this moment? What would she have him say? If she were here, how would she make this situation easier? She’d wanted him to have some kind of closure, some kind of peace.

“Listen, Dr. Zane—”

“Oh, God, please. Call me Chris. Or . . . or whatever you want.”

“Okay. Chris.” The name felt strange in his mouth. He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Look. Not having any contact with you . . . it left a mark. I didn’t grow up hating you, and my mother never mentioned you in any way, except to tell me you left before I was born. But I always did feel a little . . . thrown away.”

His father nodded, his mouth wobbling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“But I’ve had a really good life. My mother is the best, and I have . . . I have people. And my wife, she was . . .” His eyes stung. “She was incredible, and we were very happy.” He cleared his throat. “So you didn’t ruin me. I never knew you, so you couldn’t. But I always wondered how I could be . . . tossed away like that.”

Chris nodded. “It had nothing to do with you,” he whispered fiercely. “Nothing. I was selfish. Completely self-absorbed. That’s the reason. I took the easiest, most cowardly path possible. I let your mother deal with everything alone, and I believe I’ll have to answer for that someday. I carry that with me. Every day, Joshua.” His voice broke.