Chapter 3: Reunited
Lana Fitzgerald.
Jane had a name. Lana. This changed everything between her and Greg. It was hard for him to grasp.
He and Gordon did not seem to know whether to look at her or each other. Greg stared hard at Gordon. "Are you saying that this woman is your brother's dead girlfriend?"
"Yes!" Gordon yelled at him. "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!"
Greg held his hand to his forehead. This looked to be too much for him. "Oh my gosh . . ."
Gordon was shaking. "I have to call home." He reached inside his pocket for a cell phone.
He thought for a moment about what he'd said. Calling home meant that Gordon's brother would find out - Greg couldn't lose Jane . . . Lana. "You can't be serious!"
Gordon looked at him a moment before hitting any buttons. He looked over at Lana, who seemed to be suffering from a large headache. "Step outside with me a moment." Greg followed him out. Closing the door behind him.
Gordon took a breath. "Look . . . I understand how much Lana means to you. Believe me, I do," he said firmly, trying to establish this. "But what you don't understand is that my brother loved her just as much. I don't know if you understand that my brother tried to take his life for her. I need to call him. He deserves to know, don't you think?" Gordon pleaded.
Greg stared at him with watery eyes. "I love her, though. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone before, Gordon, and she loves me back. Do you know how hard it is to find someone like that? I can't risk losing her."
Gordon put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "If she really loves you like that, nothing will happen between her and Scott."
–
Tess sat on the couch next to Tin-Tin, each reading individual magazines. They both looked to be completely engrossed by the latest fashion news. Alan and Virgil sat across the room, also looking completely busy.
The phone rang and the foursome all lunged for it at the same second. Tess and Alan's hands both grabbed the receiver.
"It's mine, Alan!"
"That's a darn lie, and you know it!"
"Oh, gee, I'm not the one who lied for a year about having a pet alligator!"
"I never found the right opportunity!"
"WILL YOU TWO QUIT BICKERING AND LISTEN TO ME!" the voice at the other end of the phone yelled.
Tess managed to wriggle it out of Alan's hands. "Hello? Sorry about-"
"Look, I don't have time!" Gordon snapped. "What's Scott's cell number?"
Tess looked on the desk. "I'm not sure, Gordon. If you want, you can leave a message, and I'll have Jeff call him."
"No! I need that number now!"
Tess looked shocked. "Okay. What's your problem!"
"None of your business! Now give me that number, Tessa! NOW MEANS NOW!" he thundered.
Tess fumbled through the roll-a-dex on Jeff's desk. "Here: it's 718-555-8063. Happy?"
A dial tone was her only response.
–
Scott could barely make his fork cut his steak, he was laughing so hard. Uncle Ed wasn't doing so well either.
"So then," Sandy continued through laughs, "the stupid rooster had the nerve to chase her. Well, Lana just wasn't going to put up with that. She grabbed it by the neck and hurled the stupid thing. It's behaved ever since."
Scott was doubled over laughing. Uncle Ed was red in the face. Sandy laughed too. Even Scamp appeared to be smiling - then again, knowing Scamp, it may have just been the smell of meat.
A ring went off, and Scamp began howling at the foreign noise. "Shuddup, dog!" Scott yelled. Scamp looked sad.
"Now y'er gettin' it," Sandy smiled.
Scott reached into his pocket. The caller ID was surprisingly not Jeff. He pressed the button to ignore it, and set the phone on the table. "Likely just a wrong number," he explained. He took a bite of steak.
But just as he was swallowing, the phone went off again. 718-555-6789? Who was that?
He hit the ignore button again. "Persistent li'l bugger, eh."
Sandy smiled. "You sure you're not Canadian?"
He smiled back, and the phone rang again. He stared at it for a minute. Same guy.
Sandy looked over at him, puzzled. "Maybe you should answer it. Just tell the guy he has the wrong number."
Scott shrugged and pressed the button to answer it. He excused himself from the table. "Hello?"
"Scott! Finally! Thank goodness you decided to answer!"
Scott appeared confused. "Gordon?"
"Scott, you have to catch a flight right now!"
The urgency in his brother's voice terrified him. "Why? What's happened? What's wrong! Why aren't you calling from the mainline?"
There was a sigh. "Because I'm not at home, dimwit! I'm in Newfoundland. And nothing's happened. Well, okay something's happened. But it's not big. Okay, not very big. Okay, it's huge. Okay, just, get out here now!"
"I can't, dude," Scott explained, "I'm sure whatever is not-big-very-big-huge isn't as great as being with Lana's family."
Gordon became very sarcastic. "No, I'm sure hanging out with Lana's cousin and their Uncle is way better than trusting your brother's judgement!"
Scott sighed. "Look, this is the closest thing I have to Lana. I've bonded with these people. They share my pain. I like it here."
Scott held the phone away from himself as his brother exploded. "SCOTT TRACY YOU GET YOUR BUTT UP HERE NOW! OR ELSE, I SHALL BE FORCED NEVER AGAIN TO DO ANYTHING NICE FOR YOU EVER! IF I WAS FEMALE, YOU'D OWE ME PRADA FOR THIS ONE, BUDDY!"
Even Scamp was staring at the phone. Scott gingerly placed the phone back against his ear, hoping not to get another earful. "Okay. Fine. But, I swear, if this isn't 100 worth my time, I'm making you do all my chores for a month!"
"Oh, trust me, bud - you don't wanna miss this! Okay, buy the tickets, like ASAP. I checked, there's a flight leaving the day after tomorrow. It's the Diefenbaker airport. Call me before the plane takes off so that I know when to meet you. Trust me, you'll want to be here before you can say 'I love my brother more than Gramma's Cake'." There was a dial tone.
Scott closed the phone and turned to the family. "Apparently I have to leave . . ."
–
Tess turned up the volume on the television. Tin-Tin, Alan, Virgil and herself were all squished together on the couch. The four were completely and utterly bored.
"We have debris!"
"Debris!" the television screamed.
Jeff was walking by, the newspaper in his hand, when he stopped to watch the TV.
"Left! . . . Right! . . . Left!"
Jeff turned to Tessa and the others. "Why aren't you guys doing something productive?"
Virgil sighed. "Productivity is finished. The house has smelt like lemon for the past 7 hours, haven't you noticed?"
Jeff sniffed the air, verifying it. "And so you're doing . . . what, exactly?"
Alan shrugged, not taking his eyes off the television. "Watching movies."
"We already burned through Thomas and the Magic Railroad almost five times," Tess added.
"So now we're watching Twister," Tin-Tin finished.
Jeff looked at the screen. "Oh. I see."
Tess stared at the TV, squinting at the main character, driving the truck. "He looks familiar . . . I think I've seen him somewhere before . . . I just can't think of where."
The other four watched the screen. "Yeah, he looks very familiar . . ."
Tin-Tin spoke up. "Oh! Oh! I know! I know!" They turned to her. "He's from Titanic!"
There was a collective "Ooooh!" from everyone except Tessa.
Tess shook her head. "No, I'm thinking of something more recent, I know it . . . wasn't he in a movie a couple summers ago? Wasn't it like, sci-fi or something?"
"Yeah . . ." Virgil added, "yeah, wasn't that . . . wasn't that the one where that old guy is reading that book to that lady and it's all about some oddball from the '40s and his girlfriend?"
Tin-tin and Tess stared at him in disbelief. "How . . . in the heck . . . do you get . . . The Notebook . . . confused . . . with science fiction!" Tess asked him.
Virgil held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. Geez . . ."
Jeff was still staring at the screen while the two bickered. "Well, I have no idea what-so-ever who that guy is, so I think I'll get back to my paper." He walked away, leaving the group alone once again.
Alan interrupted. "Hey! Can we please get back to the movie! Anyone?"
Virgil and Tessa shut up. "I'll have to make you watch it, and then we'll see how sci-fi it is . . ." Tess threatened. Virgil sighed, annoyed with himself for saying anything.
"On three . . . ," the movie continued.
–
Lana popped another Advil into her mouth, trying to ward off the massive headache that had come with Gordon.
All the memories had come flooding back at once. Well, all the memories of her childhood and family at least. She still had no idea who Gordon was, or why he knew her. But someone saying her name, her real name had brought back a lot. And the gaps that remained pushed her to think too hard.
Lana swallowed some water to help ease the pill down her throat.
She had been in CSIS. But she quit . . . because her family had died. Then . . . then . . . then she had lived on a farm with her cousin, Sandy. They'd lived in Saskatchewan.
But had she really quit CSIS? There was something secret about her life that only her cousin Sandy knew about . . . but what was it?
Lana cringed as another wave of pain swept through her head.
Gordon had frustrated and enlightened her in ways she couldn't have imagined. If only she knew who he was . . .
Now, though, a nurse had informed her that yet another visitor would be coming to see her. She hated that idea, the notion of maybe having to go through this again. Though the blow would've been a lot easier to take if Greg had given it to her.
For a man who had told her he'd never fallen for anyone faster, he sure-as-heck was taking his time in seeing her again. It was like, as soon as Gordon had stepped outside with him, he'd never stepped back in.
Why was he ignoring her? Was he worried? Did she do something to upset him?
Her eyes widened as her active imagination gained way. Had she been an assassin? Had she disgusted him enough for him never to want to look at her again? What was in her past that bothered him?
If he really loved her, he'd know that no matter what her past, he was her only future. The only man she'd ever love. Ever.
–
The plane would be landing shortly, the pilot had just informed the passengers of flight 707.
Scott grabbed his bag and prepared for the plane's touchdown, all the while, his mind wandering.
His brother had sounded like he'd found the best thing for Scott. What could he have possibly found? Perhaps the rose he'd sent out to sea had washed up on shore. But that was impossible! His brother knew nothing about that . . . no one did . . .
The plane landed, and Scott was one of the first off. The second his feet hit the ground, he made sure his cell phone was back on. He knew that there would probably be a bunch of voice mails from his dad, but he couldn't help it. He was so preoccupied, he didn't bother to check.
What could be so important that his brother dragged him halfway across a country? More to the point, what was his brother doing in this country? He grabbed his bags as he pondered over this.
Scott began walking towards the entrance, where his brother had said to meet him. He listened to the country music playing through the air around him, his thoughts dancing in his head.
He turned around a corner, and spotted his brother with a rented car.
"Gordon. Now, what's all this 'important' crap? Are you aware I was enjoying beautiful Saskatchewan when you called?" Scott interrogated.
Gordon smiled, and laughed slightly. "Well, hello to you too. Come on, we'll get you set up in my hotel." He grabbed a bag, and walked towards the car. Scott followed him.
"What are you doing in Newfoundland anyway?" he asked.
Gordon popped open the back window and tossed in both suitcases and Scott's backpack. He closed it again. "I was doing some . . . charity work, you might say. I was staying with my partner, but when I asked you down - or, rather, up - that kind of killed the whole roommate deal. Maybe even the whole project . . ."
They climbed inside the vehicle, and Gordon began to drive. "We were working on adding a new Emergency Ward for this town. I was going to name it after Lana, as a tribute to her work," he rounded a corner, "I picked this town because of a Dr. Greg Peterson. He's a specialist with amnesiacs and children. He's a very skilled man, and has won many prestigious awards."
Scott was taken aback. This was a very kind gesture. Perhaps the most thoughtful his brother had ever done. He was still confused. "I love the idea . . . where do I come in, though?"
His brother parked in the lot of the local Best Western. He turned to his brother and smiled. "You'll see."
–
Gordon helped his brother unpack his two suitcases into the room joining his. He felt bad for keeping him in the dark so long, but he wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, if he told his brother now, there would be nothing stopping him from getting to that hospital.
With the last shirt finally tucked in the drawer, he turned back to his eldest brother. "So, what was Lana's family like?"
Scott sat on the chair, thinking. "Well, they were kind, and ambitious, and just friendly. Wonderful people."
Gordon smiled. "A lot like Lana?"
He laughed. "Lana never exactly welcomed me the way they did. But she was a lovely lady, yes."
Gordon couldn't get over how much his brother had changed in a week. Before he was suicidal, and deeply depressed whenever someone brought up Lana. Now, he just smiled at the memories.
He hoped he was doing the right thing by letting his brother know she was alive. He looked up at the clock.
"C'mon," Gordon said, beckoning Scott with his hand, "Greg is going to meet us at the hospital. I thought it might be good for you to meet the patients we'll be helping."
Scott followed him out of the room, seeming perplexed. "That's the reason you brought me here?"
Gordon smiled back at him. "Yup."
–
As Scott put on a white coat in Dr. Peterson's office, he couldn't help but feel cheated. His brother had dragged him across Canada for what? To see a bunch of sick people. No offence to the sick people, but he saw that all the time in IR.
He also couldn't help but notice the odd looks that Greg Peterson gave him. Was it just Scott, or did Greg appear to resent him already?
Gordon walked towards Scott, a couple of full cups in his hands. "Coffee?" he asked. Scott took the cup, muttering a thanks under his breath.
Greg seemed hateful towards Scott as he began to move towards the door. "Usually, I'd take you around to see some of my paediatric patients first, Mr. Tracy, but your brother assures me you'd rather see my amnesiac patients. Am I correct?"
Scott looked over towards Gordon who winked. He turned back to Greg. "Uh, yeah . . . I guess."
Greg nodded. "Okay, then. Follow me to the elevators." He walked out the door, and the two brothers followed.
Scott kept in step with his brother, about 2 metres behind Greg. "Why is he so unfriendly?" Scott whispered.
Gordon turned towards his brother. "Who, Greg?" he whispered back, "Don't mind him, he just thinks you're invading his territory."
"I'm what!" Scott said, slightly louder than a whisper, as they walked into the elevator. The doors shut behind them.
Gordon seemed to be ignoring him as the fast elevator approached its floor. The doors soon opened, and Greg continued walking, this time with Gordon beside him.
Greg stopped in front of room 414. "The resident in here is a Jane Doe we've only very recently been able to identify. Now, please, try not to make her remember too much, as amnesiacs can easily harm themselves." His tone was bitter and lifeless.
The door swung open to reveal a curtained bed. Scott stepped in first, followed by Gordon and then Greg. Scott stayed about a metre and a half away from the bed, while the others walked almost right up to it.
Scott was perplexed. He could've sworn his brother had just whispered, "This ought to be fun."
Gordon walked back towards Scott. Scott took a sip of his coffee as Greg pulled the curtain.
"HOLY FREAKING CRAP!" Scott's eyes went wide, and a volcano of coffee erupted from his mouth. He spilt the remaining bit down his shirt, causing him to jump back in the heat. When he jumped back however, he backed into the tray carrying leftovers, knocking it over, and tumbling to the floor in a mess.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Nope, you two aren't related . . . not at all . . ."
Gordon helped his brother up. Scott was still in complete and utter shock. "Is that . . . it can't be . . . but she's . . . and I'm . . . what's going on here?"
Gordon just smiled, and let his brother walk towards the bed.
As Scott approached the bed, he noticed a rose sitting in a vase on the night stand. It was slightly more wilted than the last time he'd seen it, but he could tell all the same that it was the one he'd sent for Lana. And, sure enough, it had made it to her.
She sat up in her bed, and stared. "Scott?" she asked.
He smiled and nodded, not believing what he was seeing.
Lana smiled brightly, and jumped out of bed to hold him. He gladly accepted the embrace. They both held each other tightly.
"I missed you so much . . ."
"I couldn't stand being away from you . . ."
"I love you," they said in unison. There was silence for a moment, then they stepped back a bit, so that they could look at each other.
It was then that Dr. Peterson couldn't stand to stay in the room any longer. He walked out the door, and into the hall, depression around him. Gordon left the room just seconds later. Only he was smiling broadly as he did so.
–
As Lana stared up into Scott's eyes, she felt like all her questions were being answered. This was the man who sent her the rose. The man she kept seeing was his father. She'd been an agent for International Rescue . . .
He stared back at her, just as loving. He loved her, as she loved him. He held her chin, and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly. She kissed him back.
As his hand held her back gently, Lana felt guilty enough to pull away. He looked surprised. She didn't blame him.
Lana wiped a small tear from her eye. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled. "I didn't know until I saw you, frankly. I was in Saskatchewan with your family when Gordon called me."
She was puzzled. "You were with my family?"
"Yes, Lana. I had to see the only people who loved you as much as I do."
She smiled, and kissed him, trying to convince herself that Greg was still the only one for her.
–
Jeff had been staring at the bored people living in his home for too many days now. He couldn't stand it anymore. He got up to go talk to them - now watching The Notebook for obvious reasons - when the phone rang. He stopped himself, and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?" he asked politely.
"Hi, Dad," a cheery voice rang.
It took Jeff a moment to place it. "Scott?"
"Yup. I figured I'd let you know I was doing fine."
Jeff was confused. "It sounds like Saskatchewan is doing you good."
There was laughter. "I don't think it's Saskatchewan. Canada in general, maybe, but not just Saskatchewan."
Jeff was verging into Tess-confusedness. "Excuse me?"
There was a pause, and a giggle in the background. "I'm sorry, Dad. I have to go. I just wanted to let you know I'm doing alright. Talk to you later!"
Jeff hung up the phone, bewildered. What on earth was his son doing? Oh, well. He would get to that later, he supposed. Right now, he needed to speak to his family.
Tin-Tin, Penny, and Tess looked quite intent on the movie. Alan and Virgil seemed interested, but also seemed to slowly becoming nauseous.
"Why didn't you write me!"
Jeff cleared his throat. Penny held up her hand. "Not now, Jeff!"
Tess looked angry. "This is the good part!"
Tin-Tin appeared aggravated. "Hush up!"
Jeff was taken aback. He turned to see what could possibly be so important.
The man on the screen looked shocked. "I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year."
The female looked equally shocked. "You wrote me?"
"Yes," he began again, "it wasn't over, it still isn't over!" He ran and held her, taking her into his arms and kissing her passionately.
Jeff turned to look at the girls again. The scene changed and the girls became quite talkative then.
"Okay, go ahead."
"Now what was it you wanted?"
"What's so important?"
Jeff wondered why they were all of the sudden talkative. He turned back to the screen and cringed. "Oh! Ew! Gosh! Oh, gosh!" He shook his head. "I wanted to talk to you about perhaps lowering the no PDA policy?"
Tess hit the mute button - though, no one was sure whether she muted it to hear Jeff, or so she just wouldn't have to listen to the movie. "Yes?"
He stepped in front of the screen, so that it would not prove to be a distraction. "I realize I was unfair before. I know that you are in love, and I respect that, having been there myself a few times. I still want no making out, but I suppose kissing and pretty much anything else is alright."
The four Tracy's - or near-Tracy's - eyes lit up. "Thank you," Tin-Tin said.
"The only thing is," he began, turning back to the screen to illustrate his point, but finding he still didn't want to look, "I want less of these movies."
They smiled. Virgil spoke up first, looking over at his fiancée. "Don't worry, Dad. I can guarantee less movies."