I swallowed, wiping my mouth with the napkin from my lap. “I’m from Stowe, Vermont, where my parents and brothers still live. I went to BU and roomed with Emily my freshman year, and we’ve lived together ever since. I started at Mass General the moment I graduated and have never left.”

“You’re the oldest child.”

I nodded. “Good guess.”

“It wasn’t a guess. The youngest and middle children don’t become the nurse; the oldest does because they always have to care for the others.”

My chest tightened, and I glanced at my plate. “Yes, I definitely did a lot of that.”

“Why ortho/neuro?”

He’d asked Emily my unit, so he knew where to send the food, but I’d never expected this question from him tonight.

Another surprise.

But not a good one.

“I lost my brother David a month before my sixteenth birthday; he had been paralyzed from the neck down, an accident I’d tragically witnessed. His injury was what inspired nursing, and that led me to this specialty.”

And years of guilt that continued to choke me.

I reached for my wine, holding it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Whitney.”

I waved my hand in the air, brushing it off, hoping he would move on.

“What are your parents like?”

Now, that was a topic I could discuss without tears.

“Their picture belongs on the front of an applesauce jar.”

He laughed.

“My dad in the recliner with their yellow Lab by his feet, Mom snuggled in the corner of the couch, knitting. Tea on the table between them, resting on doilies. They’re every bit of Vermont that you can imagine.”

“I’m picturing the scene right now.”

“What are your mom and dad like? And your siblings?”

He set down his knife after cutting a potato and finished chewing. “I’m an only child. As for my parents, they’re more like the cover of Forbes. Endearing one percent of the time, all business the rest. We work together; we’re partners.”

A hardness moved into his eyes, a side of him I hadn’t seen yet.

“Well, they obviously raised you right and mentored you to be extremely successful at what you do.”

“Is that a guess?”

I shook my head, leaning on the table again. “My gut tells me you’re the kind of guy who wouldn’t be proud to drive a sports car that your father bought you. You would wait until you could purchase it in cash because you wouldn’t want to pay the interest.”

He laughed even harder this time. “Go on. What else do you know about me?”

“I think your job can be unbearably stressful, and adrenaline is your drug. A little isn’t enough anymore, so you continue to look for new adventures that will heighten that intensity.”