"Well, I guess it's up to someone to keep things interesting," he chuckled softly, though he was admittedly glad to hear he'd been involved in more good-natured trouble than outright rebellion. But she was right - he had no way to learn about her other than to ask, and he thought that maybe talking about herself might be easier for her. Besides, it was something he genuinely wanted to hear. So when she said she didn't know where to start, he shook his head a bit. "Anywhere is fine. Just... talk." It didn't matter what was important to him, he just wanted to know what was important to her, how she'd gotten here, what had brought them together. His hand fell away as he listened intently to what she said, nodding a bit here or there. If her father was a surgeon, that explained why she'd been drawn to hospital work. And maybe he should be surprised she hadn't been snatched up and married already, but if he'd been gone for four years and she'd been waiting for him... the thought broke his heart, because the man who had come back was not the man she'd wanted, and he knew it. It had been clear on her face the first instant she'd realized he didn't even remember her name.
He was sad to hear that her mother was gone, though - her mother and her brother, that had to have been hard, he couldn't even imagine. "I'm sorry," he murmured; it felt hollow, helpless, but he couldn't not say it. Still, he smiled a little more when she said she'd stuck with hospital work. "I'll bet you're more than a sight for sore eyes. I hope it helped you... and I'm glad you like it." It said a lot about her, the kind of work she wanted to do, whether he'd appreciated it or not. Because he had a feeling that she would have done it either way, she seemed like that sort of a person. "I can tell you're very giving - I just showed up on your doorstep and you're making me dinner," he pointed out, nodding toward the boiling potatoes. "I'm glad you're doing what you're doing - you seem like someone who'd be perfect for the job."
Of course, speaking of giving - "Look, let me help get things ready, I feel bad just standing here. I'm sure I can mash potatoes if you show me how." They looked to be about done boiling and she'd have to keep an eye on the pot roast. "Or let me pour you something to drink." He just wanted to help out, wanted to give something back to her, because she was giving him so much.
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He was sad to hear that her mother was gone, though - her mother and her brother, that had to have been hard, he couldn't even imagine. "I'm sorry," he murmured; it felt hollow, helpless, but he couldn't not say it. Still, he smiled a little more when she said she'd stuck with hospital work. "I'll bet you're more than a sight for sore eyes. I hope it helped you... and I'm glad you like it." It said a lot about her, the kind of work she wanted to do, whether he'd appreciated it or not. Because he had a feeling that she would have done it either way, she seemed like that sort of a person. "I can tell you're very giving - I just showed up on your doorstep and you're making me dinner," he pointed out, nodding toward the boiling potatoes. "I'm glad you're doing what you're doing - you seem like someone who'd be perfect for the job."
Of course, speaking of giving - "Look, let me help get things ready, I feel bad just standing here. I'm sure I can mash potatoes if you show me how." They looked to be about done boiling and she'd have to keep an eye on the pot roast. "Or let me pour you something to drink." He just wanted to help out, wanted to give something back to her, because she was giving him so much.