When Carlos walked into the crowded living room, everyone stopped talking. They turned to look at him. The look on his face suggested the news was grim. The men standing in a semi-circle around Carlos had been fraternity brothers in college. Their friendships became stronger as the years went by. The all braced themselves, but he surprised them. “The news is better than we expected. He’s not out of the woods yet, but with a little luck, and a bit of skill, I think he’s going to pull through.”

Terry, a big man with lobster claw hands, approached him. “Let me shake your hand doctor. Better yet, let me buy you a drink.” He escorted Carlos over to the makeshift bar, and playing the big shot said, “Give this man anything he wants.”

Carlos glanced at Terry, surprised by the man’s tomfoolery. It was his, Carlos’s living room and his liquor. He had performed delicate heart surgery on Steve, a beloved member of his fraternity from undergrad days. Steve had always lived as if he didn’t plan to be around long enough to collect Social Security. In need of quadruple heart bypass surgery, he nearly ran out of time at age 55. Still, he was a generous soul who made very good money and somehow, seemed to live paycheck to paycheck.

He was the guy who always had to pick up the check, the guy who wanted to lend you money just because you mentioned you had to replace your HVAC unit. It didn’t matter whether you had the money or not. Yet, he did these things in a quiet reserved way. He never grandly called for the check when six couples went out for dinner. No, he always called ahead to the restaurant manager. “Listen, Chief,” he would say, “I’m coming in tonight with a party of twelve. Here’s my credit card info. No check for this table and come up with an explanation for why there’s no check.”

Eventually, of course, his friends figured it out. Certainly, they never got that deal when Steve wasn’t there. Now, he was in critical condition. Carlos explained Steve’s surgery in laymen’s terms, avoiding professional jargon as much as possible.

“Is he likely to return to his usual every day activities when he recovers?” One of the brothers asked.

“I hope not,” Carlos said. “All my work on him would probably be in vain if he doesn’t change his lifestyle.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen,” Terry said.

Carlos looked directly at Terry now. They had been close once. In fact, Terry, like Carlos, had been a pre-med student. The two men often studied together. Terry didn’t test well enough to get into medical school. He wound up working for a local Blue Cross Plan as a subscriber service director.

“Terry, Steve is going to need our support,” Carlos said.

“Unless you performed a brain transplant after you fixed his heart, I don’t think our support is going to change him.”  

The other men standing around exchanged glances, knowing the history between the two men. They sensed the tension and one of them tried to change the subject. “Terry, did I hear you got a new car?”

Terry didn’t answer. He looked at his drink and saw he needed a refill. He walked to the bar and helped himself to another vodka. Carlos followed him and the two men moved into another room to continue their conversation. “Steve has his problems but at least he’s not a show off,” Terry said.

“And I am?”

“You invited ten of us to your house and then you make a grand entrance, giving us a sour face, so you can get the maximum credit for doing your job.”

“Terry, I’m tired. That’s what you saw on my face.” He paused trying to decide if he should continue. “I always said you didn’t study hard enough for the entrance exam. I was wrong. For what it’s worth, I think you would have been a good doctor.”

Terry drained his glass. “You are wrong, dead wrong. I stopped studying with you because I figured out that you were a lot smarter than I was.”

“I’m going to tell you something, Terry. This morning, before we took Steve to the OR, he told me that he loved me and all the other guys. He said, ‘“But if I don’t make it, make sure you tell Terry how much I appreciate what he did for me all those years ago.’”  

Terry’s face turned white. “Did he tell you what happened?”

“He told me he got drunk and hit some guy in a bar with a bottle. You got him out of there and then went back, found the guy, a belligerent derelict according to Steve, and took him to the ER. You waited until he got stitched up and sober. You spent the night with the guy, right?”

Terry nodded.

“That morning, we took the med school entrance exam, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You took it on no sleep. Why didn’t you retake the exam later?” Carlos asked.

“It’s like I said. I wasn’t smart enough. Maybe that’s why I helped Steve that night. It gave me an excuse.”

“You helped Steve because you loved him.”

Terry put his arm around Carlos and pulled him toward him. “You should know, you’re the doctor.”

“We have something in common, you and me,” Carlos said.

“What’s that?”

“We both saved Steve.”