He was unwilling or unable to accept that he was everything I said and a whole lot more. He was a good person. Dozens of people were alive today because of him. But he'd still rather flaunt his drug addiction rather than the lives he has saved. He lets all his achievements be overshadowed by that damn leg of his. And for all his arrogance he was still the neediest and most insecure person I had ever met in my entire life.
"You're a good person, Greg."
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
"I heard you the first time."
He tried to pull his hand away. I refused to let go.
"You'd rather let that fact that you're crippled take precedence over the fact that you're a damned good doctor," I pointed out. "Why?"
"When people meet me, they don't see me," he answered, still making a half-hearted attempt to escape my grip. "They see the cane, and that's all that matters to them."
"So...is that the only reason?"
"That's all the reason they need, and sometimes they don't need any reason at all. That's why I don't bother to wear the white coat. They take one look at the cane and see a cripple, not a doctor. I'm crippled, I must have done something to make myself this way, and therefore I must be a weak person in every other arena of life too. People are very, very judgmental, Jimmy, believe me."
I narrowed my eyes and said, "You don't have to be."
"Be what?"
"Judgmental."
"Too late for that. All those good, decent people out there decide to judge me before I can get two words out, it's only fair that I get to judge them right back," he said, finally wrenching his arm free from my grip. "Cynicism is a very good thing to have in this day and age. That way you won't be too disappointed when you find the knife sticking out of your back."
"Is that how you saw me when I made the deal with Tritter?" I asked, sensing he was getting agitated. The only time he likes confrontation is when he is the one doing all the confronting. "Am I one of those people?"
"You were for a while. You're the exception, not the rule. You've had a dozen years to stab me to death. You would have done it by now. But I have to say that I will be more than little disappointed if I ever find a dagger with your fingerprints on the handle and my blood on the blade."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"I'll try not to."
"You should wear the doctor coat. It suits you."
"It doesn't go with the rest of my wardrobe."
I couldn't help it. I had to know the answer, so I asked, "Do I have to watch my back?"
He looked me in the eye, his expression like a blank sheet of paper. "You can never be too careful, Jimmy," he said solemnly. "But don't worry about having to dust for my prints because you're not going find them."
"I didn't think so," I said with a tiny grin. "You've had a dozen years. You would have done it by now."
He gave me a tiny smile of his own and the tension in the room went down a notch.
It didn't last long. "I want you in rehab by the end of the week," I told him.
"We'll see."
"No. There is no middle ground here. You're going to rehab by the end of the week."
"Okay."
I whipped my head around as if I'd been slapped. "That's it? You're agreeing just like that?"
"Yes, I'm agreeing. Call CNN. Call Barbara Walters. I'll even sign it in blood if you want me to."
"Wait a minute…just wait a minute," I stammered, wondering who the hell this person was and what he did to my best friend. "You're not going to argue with me?"
"Not tonight," Greg replied with a sigh. He wasn't angry or defeated or sad, just resigned to the fact that he couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I didn't want to leave for another hotel again and there was no way in hell he wanted that either. Now his so-called principles had to take a backseat to actually doing the right thing. I just wish he had thought of this before crossing paths with Tritter. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.
But that's Greg for you. I've learned to accept it. We need each other in case someone else decides to sharpen a dagger.