Outlier, Chapter 13
Previously: A predictable detour unpredictably jerked Reid out of his despair, if only temporarily, spurring him to beat his own drum even as he tried to wash Luke right out of his hair.
Chapter 13
Enough with the water.
Reid threw the bag of soggy chips into the wastebasket beside his desk. The relentless rain was one thing - appropriate, he assumed, for the time of year, though he wouldn’t have gone with ‘showers’ so much as ‘biblical endtimes’ - but the soul-deadening humidity was a bit much. At least in Dallas air conditioning overkill would have taken care of such a food-wilting, curl-exaggerating, hand-clammying inconvenience by now. And the dripping. Drip. Drip. Drip. He was ready to hunt down the hospital architect to exact revenge for whichever aspect of his or her design had led to the funneling of rainwater directly to the windowsill behind Reid's desk where it fell with a rhythm just irregular enough to ensure that Reid never habituated to its cracked-metronome monotony. It didn’t even have to be raining - the water torture seemed to continue until every roof and façade reservoir had been drained. Not that it had stopped raining for more than half an hour during the past few days. He supposed the crops and…crop farmers were happy, but if he’d wanted to be around this much water he would have stayed on the East coast. And there, at least, there was the possibility of manly rain, fully committed, maximum damage and out. A hit and run storm, with wind and lightning, not this too-polite, passive-aggressive siege on his sanity. A storm you needed to buy plywood for, a storm that made you risk your uncle’s wrath by braving an expedition around your ravaged neighborhood, lugging a boombox-sized camcorder wrapped in a garbage bag to capture footage of flying awnings and sparking wires. Wishing you had a best friend to share it with, to play the plucky on-camera reporter, gamely ducking loosed limbs, light hair flying into his face…
He’s gone. Walk it off.
Reid refocused on the reports in front of him. He willfully ignored the drone of water on the ledge, the slip of his fingers on the pen, the fact that Luke had no doubt left the hospital by now. Reid had ordered his discharge that morning. And had then tethered himself to his desk. Better for everyone that Reid stay away - to spare Luke extended embarrassment, to spare himself the sight of true love. If Reid were lucky, he and Luke would never have to be alone in the same room again.
Reid tossed out the rest of his sandwich.
Contradictory numbers in the report he was reading made him reach for his cell phone. His thumb paused over the screen. It softly skimmed the home image, the symmetrical folds of greys and black, the posterior pockets of white. Tensing, the thumb switched to more purposeful motion. Within several moves it poised above “delete.”
The knocking on his office door drowned out the drip, if barely.
Reid flinched, glancing up at the door before returning to the phone. To watching his thumb hover.
The second set of knocks was more assured.
Reid dropped the hand holding the phone to the desk. “Yes?” The word was clipped, its edges cutting.
The door stuttered open. The emerging head was blonde.
The phone slid out of Reid’s hand.
“D-Dr. Oliver?”
Reid stood, the chair spinning slightly to one side.
Luke took a step into the office, his other leg still hidden. He was back in his own clothes, light jacket, dark jeans. The pallor had been edged out by a subtle flush.
Has he always been so tall?
Luke’s eyes were steady, though his chest had yet to move. “Um…” He shifted his weight into the room. “I just wanted to… Ali said it was OK to leave? I just wanted to make sure that was right.”
“Who?”
Luke stretched his head forward. “Uh, Alison. My nurse-slash-friend? The one who probably shouldn’t be talking to me at all?”
He’s going to pretend it didn’t happen.
“Well, if she was wearing an official uniform, then I guess you can believe her.” Reid fingered the papers on his desk with ostensible focus.
“Oh. OK. So, then… That’s it? I’m free to go. You weren’t going to…um…”
“The hand-holding portion of this relationship is over. You can schedule the follow-up with-uh, that woman at the desk.” Still looking down, Reid waved a hand. “I hereby release you into your boyfriend’s care.”
“What?”
Reid looked up at the frown in Luke’s voice. “I assumed he was picking you up.”
“Uh, no. My mother is.”
“Ah, well, she can take you to him, then.”
“What? Why would she… Noah and I aren’t together.” The frown deepened. “You know that.”
Reid stopped mid-shuffle. “And how would I know that, Mr. Snyder? From yesterday’s tender reunion? Seemed to me you couldn’t have been any happier to see him.”
“Um, yeah, because we’re friends. We’re always going to be friends.”
Something warm began to bubble up. Reid redirected power to the containment field. “How evolved of you.” He turned his attention back to the papers. “You looked like more than that.”
“Yeah, well…” Reid peeked up to see the ducked head, the deepening blush. “Noah would like it to be more. But both people need to…” Luke looked down at his entangled fingers. “Too many things have changed.” He half-shook his head. “That part of my life is over.”
Bright emotion pressed up and out, its push painful.
Luke’s chest rose on a deep breath. “Listen, Dr. Oliver…about-”
The intense interplay of forces turned the emotion radioactive. “I’m pretty sure our business here is done, Mr. Snyder.”
Luke’s chest fell, both face and neck acutely flushed. “Ah, right. Of course. Dr. Oliver.” His head fell as well. “I guess I really am no longer your patient, then.” Eyes downcast, he shifted his weight to the hidden leg. “Sorry to have bothered you.” Reid watched as Luke nodded slightly, as he began to back away, out of Reid’s life, pulling the door closed behind him.
The radioactivity glowed. Like a light bulb.
Not my patient.
Not with Noah.
He was thinking about me.
“We should have dinner.”
Luke’s head reemerged. “Sorry?”
Water dripped.
“We should have dinner.”
“Really?” Luke blinked away loose bangs. “Why?”
Reid was transfixed by the steadily advancing line as it slinked forward. The point of no return.
Luke’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute, what don’t I know? Is-is there’s something you haven’t told me? Oh my g…is it serious? I knew this was too easy-”
“What? No. No, you’re fine. Everything’s fine. I fixed you.”
“Oh. Ohh, so it’s business. The wing.”
“No.” Reid was having trouble collecting enough saliva to swallow. “Not business.”
“Oh.” Luke frowned. “So…” His shoulders sloped as he scratched the back of his head. “Look, Dr. Oliver, it’s been a really long, rough couple of days. Can we please just skip ahead to the part where you insult me?”
The wince couldn’t crack Reid’s frozen exterior. He helplessly watched the sinewy line loom larger.
Don’t make me say it.
“No insults.” Reid managed to swallow. “Just dinner.” He searched for mooring in Luke’s soft eyes, their gentle current pulling him irreversibly closer to the edge. “Have dinner with me…Luke.”
The progression could be measured in blinks. They were sporadic during the first phase, punctuating the absolute blankness with quick bursts. Phase two, in contrast, was entirely blink-less. Eyes and mouth rounded to maximum diameter before locking into position, Luke’s body stock-still save for a chest cresting with accelerating heaves, as if trapped underwater with malfunctioning gills. The final phase began on a hard blink. His features contracted, eyes breaking their searching hold to dart down and to the side. With each subsequent blink, his face shifted further, falling incrementally inward. Appearing more and more uncomfortable. More and more distressed.
Reid’s experience was simpler: a slow-motion, un-breathing, unbroken arc through the air, a liquid leap, a floating fall. A hard end. He was brought to his knees by the line - tangling, tripping, his hands outstretched, sinking into waterlogged earth that disintegrated beneath him. He was back in the hole, still black, now bottomless. There was no crawling out. There was no turning back. It was done.
He was done.
He stepped from behind his desk, picking up his phone as he cleared the corner. He brutally schooled his gaze away from Luke, for the first time successfully. He crossed the office briskly, pausing only at the body blocking the door.
“Excuse me.”
As soon as the path was sufficiently clear, Reid exited, turning to roll down a random hallway, accumulating speed, bowling through swinging doors, past elevator banks and irrelevant windows.
Whom should I call first? Which bridge have I burned the least? The slap of his shoes reverberated in the empty stairwell. Dallas is out. I’d outgrown them anyway. From now on only places that deserve me. Maybe Mayo. Still gathering momentum, Reid typed into his phone.
He entered the parking garage, the door striking concrete with the force of his shove. Sideways rain reached for him from the open sides, misting his hair and clothes.
I’m Reid fucking Oliver. This Reid doesn’t pursue people.
This Reid had had enough. Enough of confounding factors and irreducible uncertainties and unforeseen variables. It was finally time to take himself out of the equation.
This town will have been nothing more than a blip on my radar.
The car chirped as he approached. One hand reached for the door; in the other, the phone vibrated.
MrSnyder
His hand, chest, squeezed.
The phone bounced off the back seat as he slammed the door shut.
_______________________________
Radioactive orange dusted his phone. Reid licked his fingers.
“You know, I suppose that could be considered reasonable. But alas, you’re not exactly coming from a place of strength. You’re coming from Rochester.” Reid tossed the bag of cheese puffs on his bed as he began to collect socks from the floor. “Number one program in the country, really, now how could I have known that.” He checked under the bed. Standing, he shook open a garbage bag and dumped in the socks. “Yes, well, I’m sure all those golf-playing hunters and retirees are just thrilled that they chose such an award-winning city. But - and here’s the problem - you’re in the Midwest. And the only way you’re going to get me to move to another aggressively friendly, minority-challenged, inbred Midwestern backwater is if you double that offer.” Reid’s phone chimed. “Gotta go, Boston’s calling.” He ended the conversation.
And deleted, unread, the just-arrived text. As he had all the others.
After refilling his mouth with cheese puffs, he upended the hamper into the garbage bag. He then did the same with the wastebasket. He was finally feeling his old self. Maybe he should give Mass General a call. They had been lusting after him for years. Wouldn’t Alex just love for me to steal his thunder. And then I could steal Angeline again…
Yeah, you can stuff that shudder, Oliver. You know that is exactly what you need. Exactly. What you’ve been needing badly for the last 97 days. The deficiency of which has no doubt been the root of all ills. You’ll go back to Dallas, finally pack up the apartment. Revisit old friends. Even buy them dinner first. Maybe.
He tied off the trash bag and tossed it into the hall. He fired up the phone. “Yeah, get me on a flight to Dallas tonight. Coming back Thursday.” Opening his closet, he pulled out a small rolling suitcase. “Is ‘tonight’ not an English word? After the surgery, obviously. Whatever the last flight is. Jacobs can cover me tomorrow. Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you tell her that I’ll consider forgetting that time she shaved the wrong patient’s head. Uh-huh. Right. Don’t care. Right.” Reid dropped the phone on the bed next to the swiftly filling suitcase.
Time for a sandwich.
He heard the knocks as he left the bedroom. He recognized their cadence.
“She’s not here, Hank,” he called from the open refrigerator. The knocks got predictably louder. “You know, your constant lack of faith in my word is starting to wound.”
When the knocking continued Reid swung the refrigerator door shut and ambled toward the front door. “Come on, Hank, are you really going to make me say it? (Perhaps there are some things I’ll miss.) OK, fine, she is here; she’s just too exhausted from our athletic lovemaking to-” Reid opened the door.
Luke was on the other side.
Reid’s old self receded like floodwater.
“Hi.” Luke’s eyes and voice were strong. Like those of a boy wearing his father’s jacket on an interview for his first summer job.
Reid’s grip tightened on the doorknob.
Luke half-rolled onto the balls of his feet. “Not Henry. Sorry.” His crooked smile was passably convincing.
Reid wiped his loose hand on his jeans, streaking the black with orange. He focused loosely on Luke’s chin. “Yeah, this isn’t really a-” He swayed backward as Luke put a hand flat against the door.
“I get that. I get that you don’t want to see me. Or talk to me. Or answer my texts. And I…” He rolled in his bottom lip. “I think I even get why.”
Luke’s face was no longer safe. Reid switched his gaze to a dim patch of wall behind Luke, pushing at it until it vibrated.
“But it’s not what you think.” The words were starting to thin; Luke took a distinct breath. “I mean, yes, my head is still exploding - in fact, I’m surprised the sprinklers in your office didn’t go off when my brain started to overheat,” he said as his free hand waved circles next to his ear. “You know, when it finally hit me what you were… That you-that you must be…” He tugged an earlobe.
Reid’s hand on the doorknob began to cramp.
Luke dropped his hand from the door. “But see, the thing is, then I started to worry that maybe the only reason you’d asked was because of…well, out of pity, or something. Because of last night.” Luke’s head fell along with the volume and pitch. “But…eventually, I realized that wouldn’t actually make much sense. First, it’s not exactly the kind of thing you ask just to make someone feel better-I mean, especially if you’re not actually… And anyway, second, since when do you try to make people feel better? Non-medically speaking, that is.”
Reid wondered when he’d begun looking at Luke’s face again. At the moment he was watching the progression of white teeth revealed by a lopsided smile.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Luke drew another chest-lifting breath. “I decided to assume that you’d meant it. And also to assume that, contrary to appearances, you’re not with Katie any more. Because I honestly don’t think you would do that to her. So yes.” His chin lifted. “I’m saying yes. I would love to have dinner with you…Reid.”
Reid watched Luke’s lips form his name. Breathed in the echoes as they reached his own.
Felt the world fracture.
Can’t. Too late. Too much. Hurts. No more. Can’t work. Need to go. Go.
Say goodbye.
He returned to Luke’s eyes; they were bright with bravado. The jacket almost fit. Almost hid the wrinkles of worry. The naked nerves. The plea.
It was the eyes that broke him. That fixed him.
“Okay.”
Luke’s next breath added inches to his height. It dislodged the jacket, ruptured seams. Tiny rays of light squeezed past stitches, illuminating Luke like a fiber-optic piñata. Revealing the true extent of the effort not to burst. He smiled with closed lips, perhaps mindful of the pyrotechnic potential. He rocked on his feet, as if on the verge of lift-off.
He looked at Reid expectantly.
Reid could only blink.
Eventually, Luke popped a button. “I’m free tonight. Oh-well, except for the…no-no, never mind-I am. I’m free.”
The blinks stopped. “Tonight?”
“Yeah. Tonight.” Air began to seep out. “Unless…I mean, you probably…we could just…you know, whenever would be-”
Reid felt compelled to plug the leak. “Tonight. Fine. Yes. Oh, but no-I, uh, there’s a surgery. It could go late.”
“That’s okay.”
“Uh, no, really-maybe nine.”
“No problem. I have to go back to the office anyway. I could just meet you at the hospital.”
“Ah. Of course. No, but it, uh, there’s a chance it could be earlier-it’s an AVM. Uh, yeah, that’s a malformation of…um…point is there’s really no way of knowing exactly what I’m dealing with until I get in there. It could even be later.”
“Okay, well, why don’t you just text me when you get out, and I can meet you at the restaurant.”
“Restaurant. Right. That’s a…n idea.” Restaurant. Shit, what restaurant? “I’ll, uh-I’ll pick you up.”
Luke’s head jerked slightly, his brow lifting. “Oh. Okay, sure.”
“Great, good. Fine, then.” He could no longer feel his hand on the knob. “So. Tonight.”
Luke’s smile spread slowly this time, in stops and starts, but finished in full force. “Tonight.” He dropped his head, looked up. Nodded as he turned to leave. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Reid nodded once in return. He lifted an orange hand in stiff farewell, lowering it only when Luke disappeared around the corner after a glance back through slanted bangs.
Tonight.
Tonight.
It’s a…
date.