“Like it?” Wadley asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Angela said.
Wadley pointed back toward the connecting door. “That will always be open,” he said. “Literally and figuratively.”
“Wonderful,” Angela repeated.
“Now let’s tour the lab again,” Wadley said. “I know you saw it once, but I want to introduce you to the staff.” He took a long, crisp, professional white coat from a hook and put it on.
For the next fifteen minutes Angela met more people than she could hope to remember. After circling the lab, they stopped at a windowless office next to the microbiology section. The office belonged to Dr. Paul Darnell, Angela’s fellow pathologist.
In contrast to Wadley, Darnell was a short man whose clothing was rumpled and whose white coat was spotted haphazardly with stains used in preparing pathological slides. He seemed agreeable but plain and retiring, almost the antithesis of the affable and flamboyant Wadley.
After the tour was over, Wadley escorted Angela back to his office where he explained her duties and responsibilities. “I’m going to try to make you one of the best pathologists in the country,” he said with a true mentor’s enthusiasm.
David had enjoyed his three-and-a-half-mile bicycle ride immensely. The clean, crisp morning air had been delicious, and the bird life even more abundant than he’d imagined. He’d spotted several hummingbirds along the way. To top it off, he caught a fleeting glimpse of several deer across a dew-laden field just after crossing the Roaring River.
Arriving at the professional building, David discovered he was too early. Charles Kelley didn’t show up until almost nine.
“My word, you are eager!” Kelley said when he spotted David perusing magazines in the CMV waiting area. “Come on in.”
David followed Kelley into his office where Kelley had him fill out a few routine forms. “You’re joining a crackerjack team,” Kelley said while David worked. “You’re going to love it here: great facilities, superbly trained colleagues. What else could you want?”
“I can’t think of anything,” David admitted.
When the paperwork was completed and after Kelley explained some of the ground rules, he accompanied David to his new office. As Kelley opened the office suite door and entered, David stopped to admire his nameplate that had already been installed in the slot on the outside of the door. He was surprised to see the name “Dr. Kevin Yansen” above his.
“Is this the same suite?” David asked in a lowered voice after catching up with Kelley. There were six patients in the waiting room.
“Same one,” Kelley said. He knocked on the mirror, and after it had slid open, he introduced David to the receptionist he would be sharing with Dr. Yansen.
“Glad to meet you,” Anne Withington said in a heavy South Boston accent, She cracked her gum, and David winced.
“Come in to see your private office,” Kelley said. Over his shoulder he told Anne to send Dr. Yansen in to meet Dr. Wilson when he appeared between patients.
David was confused. He followed Kelley into what had been Dr. Portland’s office. The walls had been repainted a light gray, and new gray-green carpet had been installed.
“What do you think?” Kelley asked, beaming.
“I think it’s fine,” David said. “Where did Dr. Portland go?”
Before Kelley could respond, Dr. Yansen appeared at the doorway and whisked into the room with his hand outstretched. Ignoring Kelley, he introduced himself to David, telling David to call him Kevin. He then slapped David on the back. “Welcome! Good to have you join the squad,” he said. “You play basketball or tennis?”
“A little of both,” David said, “but none recently.”
“We’ll have to get you back in the swing,” Kevin said.
“Are you an orthopedist?” David asked as he looked at his new suitemate. He was a squarely built man with an aggressive-looking face. A mildly hooked nose supported thick glasses. He was four inches shorter than David, and standing next to Kelley, he appeared diminutive.
“Orthopedist?” Kevin laughed scornfully. “Hardly! I’m at the opposite end of the operative spectrum. I’m an ophthalmologist.”
“Where’s Dr. Portland?” David asked again.
Kevin looked at Kelley. “You haven’t told him yet?”
“Haven’t had a chance,” Kelley said, spreading his hands, palms up. “He just got here.”