When I saw Javier’s name pop up on the schedule I prayed that there was another Javier Suarez, maybe some old veteran from Vietnam or even Desert Storm. In my heart though, I knew that wasn’t the case and for once I’m glad that Dr. Frinkley took the leave of absence. I want to be the one to operate, I want to be the one to help fix him. It’s wrong for about a million different reasons. I should have some professional distance between myself and my patients, and getting fucked against the wall in my entryway doesn’t qualify as such. If Dr. Frinkley were around I’d reluctantly turn the case over to him, but that’s not an option. Referring him to a civilian doctor could be costly and take a while to get into. Because I have a say in my schedule I can work him in sooner rather than later here.

I’m glad because I want to be the one to take care of him and he’s not the kind of man who would normally give you that opportunity. He’s so busy taking care of everyone else that he won’t allow for the reverse. Technically, we’re not dating or family. We’re a loose definition of friends so I feel like I can take on this case and be fine.

I reworked the schedule a bit and was able to get him in first thing Monday morning, which gives him four days to get everything in order. The scheduler came to find me after she called to notify him and said he was shocked that he was getting in so quickly. The VA is not known for their speed so I bet he was surprised.

* * *

It’s Monday morning. I dropped Thea off at school and arrived at work an extra hour early to review his chart and take a little longer than normal to answer questions for him and his family. I plan to take a few extra minutes in my pre-surgery routine to distance myself emotionally from the situation. Thank God I have a routine to sink into to settle me.

It’s not surprising to me when I enter Javier’s room and find his whole family present. I even passed Pedro and Angel, two of his cousins, out in the hall.

Judging by everyone’s reaction, they didn’t know I’ll be the surgeon. They were likely thinking it would be the same doctor as before. The best reaction comes from his mom though. She takes one look at me and bursts into tears, rattling off strings of Spanish words too fast for me to understand. Then she kisses both of my cheeks and hugs me. When she finally settles down she pats my cheek like I saw her do to Javier that day at her house, and says, “Now I know my baby will be okay.” That almost makes me cry. Chloe, my nurse, is with me for the visit and stays quiet, watching everything unfold like a deer caught in the headlights. I try to shake a few hands but apparently this is not a family you shake hands with if you’ve been to their house for Saturday dinner, because I end up with 12 hugs and at least as many cheek kisses too. By the time I get to Javier he’s smiling his usual smile. I was afraid after seeing him in my office the other day that this specific smile was gone, along with his good health.

“Hey, Doc,” he says. His hair is pulled up in a man bun and for the first time in my life I think that’s hot. How can someone look hot in a hospital gown and a man bun, complete with a Grizzly Adams beard?

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask, knowing the answer.

He chuckles and I’m reminded that it has become one of my favorite sounds, right up there next to my daughter calling me from across the house.

“I’m ready for a party,” he says and gestures to his family.

I make a big production of looking around the room. “I’d say so. When you have this many Suarez family members in one room, what else is going to happen?” I joke, and the room erupts in laughter.

When it quiets back down I go through a basic checklist of questions that I ask all my patients during my pre-op visit. When I’m done, I ask, “Does anyone have any questions?”

When everyone shakes their head, Javier says, “We’ve been through this before so I think we’re good.” At the end of the sentence I see the relaxed façade slip for the first time today so I grab his hand, probably freaking my nurse out, and lean down to whisper, “I’ve reviewed everything, I’ve had my coffee and my Wheaties, and I woke up in a good mood, so you have nothing to worry about. It’s going to be okay.” I squeeze his hand once more before I let go and leave the room.

It’s time to start my pre-op ritual and get in the zone. I much prefer these scheduled surgeries to the ones I had to handle in Afghanistan. I’m able to see my patients in advance and settle their minds a little, unlike when I was operating on the fly in trauma situations. Most surgeons don’t have a great bedside manner. Luckily my mentor, Dr. Hernandez, did. The guy was sarcastic and funny and could lighten most any mood. I learned from him that making your patients comfortable makes the whole experience that much better for both doctor and patient.

When I reach my office I sit at my desk, set the alarm on my phone, plug in my earbuds with the ocean waves meditation track on, and close my eyes. I allow myself 10 minutes to clear my mind. When the alarm goes off I return the earbuds to my drawer, glance over the chart for another five minutes and go scrub in. Some doctors like classical music when they’re operating, but for me it’s country or southern rock music that I like to listen to. I have several playlists set up, but today I choose the one with the 1980s and ’90s country tracks on it. Chloe groans while Dean, one of the surgical techs, fist pumps twice. “Yeeessss!” he says quietly.

The music starts as background noise and I step into Javier’s line of sight with my sterile hands held up in front of me.

“Hello again, Mr. Suarez. We’re about to get started. You ready to rumble?” His half-drugged eyes smile and his mouth follows suit. “Yeah, Doc, I’m ready. Nice hat,” he says, referring to my worn-out American flag print surgical cap.

“It’s lucky.” I grin at him and nod at the anesthesiologist to get started. “See you on the other side,” I say and wink at him.

* * *

The surgery was a dream, no complications, and if I was a betting person I’d say I got it all. I’ve sent the lymph nodes and portion of the colon to pathology to check the margins.

Now I remove both sets of gloves, wash my hands, remove my surgical cap and go to the waiting room. This time when I arrive, not only is his whole family there, but so are Dex and Judson. Dex is still in his uniform so he’s either still on the clock or is on his way home. Mr. and Mrs. Suarez rush over and everyone else crowds around. There might be five other people present to support the other patients but that would be generous.

I smile to help settle their nerves. “It went great. No complications. I took 15 lymph nodes and I think the margins will come back clean. I was able to avoid the colostomy bag, which I know will make him happy. Just like last time, he’ll be sore and I’ll keep him here until the end of the week unless there are issues. He’ll have six to eight weeks of recovery, if there are no complications, before he can meet with the oncologist.”

His mother bursts into tears and throws her arms around me. That’s never happened before and it takes me a second to react. Her husband reaches out to peel her off me and I wave him away and hold her little round body while she cries. She says something against my chest in Spanish that I don’t catch, but I know it’s sweet and heartfelt just by her actions. Javier is so lucky to have his family. They’re all so close and wonderfully supportive. I wish all my patients had this.

The next morning, I make my rounds earlier than usual so I have a few extra minutes to spend with Javier. When I enter the room Dex and Quinn are in the two chairs under the window, both in uniform. “Doc,” they all greet me in unison. I shake my head and laugh a little. “Now you’re all calling me that? It’s just Valerie.”

With a sleepy but playful smile, Javier shakes his head. “If I could put a cape on you I would. No superhero with a cape is named Valerie. That’s the alter ego. You needed a cool nickname and since your super power comes with a scalpel, scrubs and an MD, we decided on Doc.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re obviously feeling pretty good this morning, Mr. Suarez. Where’s your mom? I didn’t expect her to leave your side.”

“When Dex and Quinn came, my dad made her go home to get cleaned up and get some rest. My brother and sister will be here after these two head to work.”

Quinn says, “Judson and Marina will be here after they finish with the horses for the day, before they pick up the kids. We’re all taking turns coming to bug him. I figured this room would be crawling with family members.”

“Oh, it will be. The staff made them leave yesterday because there were too many of them and they were too loud, so today they’ll stagger their visits,” Javier says, his voice still a little scratchy this morning.

“That’s probably a good idea, considering you need rest. If you want to be out of here on Friday, that is.” One of his eyebrows lifts at my comment and I want to laugh at his annoyed expression. I shove my hands in my lab coat pockets as I fight the urge to smooth his wild hair back and away from his face. His nurse comes to the door, “Are you ready for me, Dr. Larinsky?” I nod and turn to Dex and Quinn. “Can you guys give us a minute? I need to check his incisions.”

“Sure. We’ll grab a cup of coffee and come back,” Dex says, leading Quinn out of the room.

I wash my hands and slip gloves on while the nurse lowers the head of his bed and pulls back the covers. When she pulls up his gown, the only areas exposed are his bandages. I check all three incisions and am happy with the way things look. “Everything looks like it’s supposed to. They’ll get you up into the recliner either later today or first thing in the morning. Do what they say, but don’t overdo it trying to be Mr. Macho. Take the pain meds; you’ll need them at least for a couple of days, and call me if you need me. The nurses know to call me direct if there’s an issue,” I tell him as I lower the hospital gown and pull up the covers.

“Thanks, Doc. I promise to behave.” He attempts a smile but it falls a little short and I have a feeling it’s because he’s so tired.

“Well, I need to finish my rounds before I go into surgery. I’ll stop by at the end of my shift. Have a good day.” I wave a little and leave the room.

* * *

The week goes by without any issue, but I can see it wearing on the Suarez family. They refuse to leave him except when forced at the end of visiting hours. On Friday afternoon, I release him to the care of his mother who’s planning to stay at his house with him. She ends up telling me that the whole reason Javier built the house with the two master beds and baths is because of the last time he went through this. He needed someone to stay with him but wanted them to be comfortable the next time. That makes so much sense.

* * *

Saturday morning I’m cleaning up from our pancake breakfast when Thea runs into the kitchen. “Mom, can I go shopping and stay the night with Minnie? Please?”

I’d love to say no and keep her all to myself, but with Ron taking less time with her I’ve gotten more and don’t feel so proprietary of her time. “What time would you be going?”

“In about an hour. They said they’d bring me back after lunch tomorrow. They go to the Catholic mass at 11:00 and then have lunch.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Just call me if you’re going to be later than lunchtime.”

She runs off down the hall yelling, “Okay!” A minute later the shower turns on and I hear her singing along with some new, boy-band song. It’s stupid stuff like this that I missed the most when I was on deployment. I stand still and quiet to enjoy it for a little longer before I try to figure out what I’m going to do with my suddenly open Saturday night.

Two hours later Thea’s gone and I’m bored. When I try to think of something to do, my thoughts drift back to Javier. The next thing you I know I’m in my car headed to his place.

When I arrive, I recognize Javier’s parents’ car in the driveway. I knock quietly in case he’s resting, and when his mother opens the door I’m met with a huge smile and cheek kiss. Of course, she’s so short compared to me that she has to pull my head down to do it so it’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s still sweet.

“Valerie’s here!” she announces in a sing-song voice.

“Well, I wanted to offer you something.” I tell her before she can lead me to the rest of the family.

Her eyebrows pull down low. “Okay…” she says cautiously.

“My daughter is with a friend overnight, until around two tomorrow, and I have nothing to do. My house is clean, my laundry is done and my friends are all busy. Why don’t you let me stay with Javier from now until tomorrow around one? It’ll give you a break and you can go to church in the morning. You know you can trust me with him. I don’t want anything to happen to all my hard work.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you. Family takes care of family.”

“I agree, but so do friends, and since you opened your home to me that night I’ve felt like you’re my friends, and I want to help. This is something I can do with ease, please let me help.”

“Let me talk to my husband. Why don’t you go see Javier while we discuss it?”

I nod, not wanting to argue.

When I enter the living room Javier’s sitting in his recliner with his feet up, a blanket covering him to his chest. His dark hair is pulled up in another man bun, this one shiny like he just washed his hair. His beard is trimmed up close to his face and I find I like this look much better than the mountain-man style he’s had since we met.

“Hey, Doc! What are you doing here?”

“How long are you going to call me that?”

His smile is boyish and silly as he responds. “Forever.”

“Funny. I’m here to see if I can relieve your mom and dad for the rest of today. Thea’s with a friend until tomorrow afternoon and I have nothing to do. At least if I’m here I can bug you and give your parents a break.”

“Don’t you get enough patient care all week long?”

“Apparently not.” I smirk at him.

“As much as I hate to say it, Mamá could use a break. Papá has been watching TV with me and he stood outside the stall while I showered but otherwise he hasn’t done much. My mamá is another story. She keeps finding things to do and won’t sit down.”

“Well, we’ll see if your dad can talk her into taking a break. I really don’t have anything going on. I’m pretty bored if you want to know the truth.”

He chuckles and cringes.

“You sore?”

“A little,” he confesses.

Before I can say anything more his parents come back in the room and I can tell his dad convinced her, but barely. “I’m changing the sheets on my bed and then we will go. We’ll be back tomorrow right after church.” She wrings her hands together.

“You don’t have to change the sheets. I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s only one night. I’m trying to give you a break, not make more work for you.”

By the horrified expression on her face I know that’s not an option. She shakes her head rapidly and tells me no. I don’t argue, I just tell her I’ll check in with her later so she’ll know he’s okay. She kisses Javier’s forehead and my cheek and leaves the room to change the sheets. When she’s done, Mr. Suarez pulls a reluctant Mrs. Suarez out the door. I can hear them bickering on the porch and the last thing I hear from Mr. Suarez is, “She’s the damn surgeon! She can probably take better care of him than we can. Let’s go home and have a nice dinner and rest.”

There’s some mumbling from Mrs. Suarez in Spanish and then the car doors slam. Javier and I look at each other and bust up laughing, which of course makes him wince and stop, but it doesn’t take the smile from his face.