Free FLASHBACK by Gary Braver

large eyes that lit up his face. “And now I’ve embarrassed her.”
    “I’ll survive,” she said, and shook hands with another physician introduced as Peter Habib from Plymouth, a man about Nick’s age.
    Nicholas Konstantinos Mavros had been her professor in pharmacy grad school and her thesis advisor for two years, during which time they had become more than student and professor. During her father’s decline, Nick had taken René under his wing, consoling her, bringing her to his home, giving her solace when she needed it the most. Over the three years since her father’s death, Nick had helped fill the void with warmth balanced by keen intelligence—traits which accounted for his position of respect in the community of neurophysicians. He was one of the few men whose mind never abandoned his heart, and René was grateful that there were people like Nick Mavros in the world.

    Nick no longer had time to teach and was cutting back his private practice. He was senior neurologist at Mass General Hospital and chief collaborator at that institution’s MRI Imaging Center, where he and a team of physicists had pioneered new techniques for diagnostic imaging of the brain.
    “They’ve got a tent the size of Fenway Park and half the medical community of the Northeast. What’s the big deal about a new nursing home wing?”
    Nick made a happy grin and held up his glass. “Free champagne.” His eyes had that white-grape glow. He liked his wines and had a collection in his cellar.
    “You have no shame,” René said.
    “He’s a Greek. What do you expect?” Dr. Habib joked.
    “Then they’re all Greeks here,” Nick said.
    “Good stuff?” she asked, hinting that he’s probably had more than he should.
    “Excellent, and brain cells be damned.” Then his eyes widened. “Uh-oh! There go another ten thousand.”
    She laughed. “You can spare them.”
    “Nice to meet you,” Habib said, excusing himself. “Something about the powers that do reckoning with the powers that be.” And he walked off.
    “I love that guy,” Nick said through his champagne. “He knows how to live. He just bought himself a brand new Harley-Davidson for his semiretirement. Carpe diem.”
    Habib had moved to a small group of people clustered around a large bald-headed man near the podium. “So what’s the big deal?” René asked. It was a crowd of at least a hundred and fifty and clearly was no shoestring celebration.
    “It’s not Health Corp. who’s picking up the tab,” Nick said. Then he put his mouth to her ear. “The fella in the gray suit and bald head talking to Preston Van Dyke and Carter Lutz and now Peter. Gavin Moy.”
    “Who?”
    But just then Carter blew into the microphone. “May I have your attention, everybody?”
    When the crowd quieted down, he introduced Preston Van Dyke, CEO of Health Corp., the parent company of the nursing homes that included Morningside and twenty-six other homes and rehab centers. Van Dyke began by thanking Carter Lutz and other dignitaries gathered there. “I’d like to say that this is a great day for Morningside as we break ground for our new long-term-care unit, which, as you may know, is to be constructed with another generous gift from GEM Tech.” And he motioned his hand toward Gavin Moy.
When the applause died down, Van Dyke continued: “With your wonderful support, we will expand our already fine facilities and increase the quality of health care for years to come.”
    Van Dyke continued briefly, and when he was finished, somebody handed him and Gavin Moy a chrome shovel with which they posed over a plot of dirt for a flurry of photographs and applause. The groundbreaking still didn’t explain the large crowd of suits, including someone she recognized from the FDA.
    “Exciting, huh?” Nick said.
    “Overwhelming,” René said, as they walked to a table of fancy snacks. Her mind was pulsing to tell him about the video of Clara Devine. “Do you know a neuro doc named