The Important Parts, chapter 13
Dr. Stephen Regan waited nervously to welcome his new temporary staff surgeon, Reid Oliver. Stephen, the head of the neuro-wing for the past five years, felt no small amount of trepidation about having the man for whom the center was named suddenly reappear at the hospital. Stephen enjoyed his job and was not keen on losing it, which he had never worried about until now.
Stephen was an excellent neurosurgeon with an extensive clinical background. He had gone to Harvard for undergrad and Yale Medical School. He was perhaps five years older than Reid, widely-published and generally respected in his profession. He never, however, had the brash brilliance of Reid.
As chairman of the wing, Stephen was well-liked. He was kind, soft-spoken and laughed easily. At times gullible, but he was firm once he realized someone was taking advantage of him. In essence, his personality was as far from what he had heard of Reid’s as possible.
It took less than 45 seconds for Stephen to realize that Reid Oliver had no designs on his job.
At precisely eight o’clock in the morning, an auburn-haired man wearing a lab coat briskly approached Stephen and stopped abruptly two feet in front of him.
“You. You look to be in charge. If you’ll show me my office and the assignment board, I’ll get to work. I want to be in rotation as often as possible. If I’m going to be here for two months, I want them to go quickly.”
And with that, the man started walking off, apparently expecting Stephen to follow.
“Um. Hi. You must be Reid Oliver. We’re so excited to have you here.” He tried to extend his hand to shake Reid’s, but Reid kept walking and ignored him.
Trying again to greet Reid politely, he said, “I’m Stephen Regan, the center’s director. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Reid rolled his eyes and did not bother to look at the other doctor. “Just the directions to my office, Stevie.”
“Steve or Stephen will be fine. Turn left at the end of the hall.” Stephen was nearly running to keep up.
“Fine, is that it there at the end?” Stephen nodded. “Okay, I’ll put my jacket down and get to work. See you later.” And with that, Reid walked off.
“It was so nice to meet you, Dr. Oliver,” Stephen said to the air. That was Reid Oliver? He must be one unbelievable surgeon for anyone to want to name anything after him.
***
Reid’s day went surprisingly well. Working in the center was natural to him. Everything operated so smoothly and efficiently that he almost smiled at the nurses. It was too bad they were not competent enough to work there. He supposed the selection pool was rather small in a second-rate town like Oakdale.
In a happy turn of events, he did not see Luke Snyder once that day. Their only interaction occurred by text message.
--I’ve got my bearings, I’d like to ditch the driver and have a car now.
--Are you sure?
--There is not even a stoplight in this town, I’m certain I can’t get too lost.
--The town is bigger than you’d think. Maybe you need a few more days.
--Photographic memory. I can memorize the map.
--Fine. I’ll work on getting you a rental. What kind would you like?
--I thought you knew me so well that you’d be able to answer this?
--Whatever Reid. I’ll pick out something decent.
Reid was rather surprised that was the end of it. After all the trouble Luke had gone through to bring him here, Reid was rather sure that he was going to be bombarded by the presence of the blonde man. Luke did not even take the bait about Luke not knowing Reid well. He found himself almost disappointed that he was going to miss out on a good sparring match today. Almost.
***
On the other end of town, Luke was busy all day making preparations to enact his plan to win back Reid. If Reid did not think that Luke knew him, then he would show the doctor otherwise. Luke may not have much experience romancing Reid, but he was going to find a way to show Reid what he was missing.
***
It started with a note and a brain. When Reid stalked into his office for his second day of work at Memorial, he saw a spectacular transparent model of a brain, mounted by the vertebrae on a black stand. Sitting on the corner of his desk, the replica was life-size, and, Reid realized, it came apart. The internal structures were easily visible through the cortical surface. Reid gently pried the right hemisphere free and then traced the colorful subcortical structures with his index finger. It was amazing. Reid found it more like art than a mere scientific model.
Wondering if this were a gift from the hospital, Reid looked at the cream-colored stationery that was folded in half and sitting by the stand. It was a heavy cotton stock and expensive-looking. Picking up the note, he was surprised by its heavy weight.
Reid unfolded the paper with care. The writing below the fold was clean, crisp, and in black ink. It simply said: “Things Reid Oliver Likes, Loves, or Otherwise Admires.” Below that line was written, “The brain.”
There was no signature, not that it required any.
Reid stared at the note for a moment, trying to discern Luke’s intentions. If Luke were trying to prove some special knowledge of Reid, he was doing a poor job of it. So what if Luke Snyder knew that Reid was fascinated by brains? Any idiot could figure that out. Furthermore, could Mr. Snyder not understand the difference between singular and plural? “The brain” clearly amounted to one thing, whereas the note referenced “things,” plural. Perhaps Luke had missed that lesson in first grade.
He was tempted to throw away the gift, but could not bring himself to do it. The model was exceptional. To dispose of it merely because Mr. Snyder purchased it would suggest the younger man having a power over Reid that the doctor was loathe to acknowledge. Reid would keep it and admire it for what it was. He certainly would not think of Luke when he saw it on his desk.
The only other contact between Reid and Luke that day was in text messages. Two days in a row without physically seeing Luke? Reid considered that bliss.
Reid had actually initiated the communication to Luke. But, it was a necessity as far as he was concerned.
--Car?
--Turns out you need a valid license. Must get death certificate revoked.
--And?
--I’m working on it. Be glad this is a small county and it has been done before.
--There’s been more than one back-from-the-dead guy around here?
--Sure. My dad. My biological father. James Stenbeck a few times. Dusty Donovan. Dr. Dixon…
--I’m going to pretend I didn’t read that. Just get the document revoked.
--Okay. Go give a blood sample to the lab and have any dental records from NY faxed to Memorial. Medical records too.
--Done.
A death certificate. Reid had not even considered the existence of such a thing. The document was tangible proof of the life he did not remember being lost to him. It was lost to Mr. Snyder as well if only Luke would realize it. In some ways, Reid would have preferred to let the decree remain in place. Reid Oliver, whoever he was, was never really coming back.
Who Reid was now was someone entirely new and had seemingly little in common with his old self. Despite what Luke believed, the younger man did not know him. The old Reid appeared to have been interested in long-term relationships and capable of making friends. The Reid of the present was the complete opposite. Reid sincerely doubted that Luke would be able to come up with one other thing than liking “the brain” that Reid had in common with his past self. Luke knew me, but he does not know me.
A/N As always, thanks to my wonderful beta, franchop. Also, I have really enjoyed and appreciated all of your comments. You cannot imagine how many times I’ve changed or tweaked something in my story based on a comment from one of you.