Free Doctors by Erich Segal

mobility would scrapetogether the $200 necessary to make their children look smarter than they really were.
    Inez Castellano regarded this as a form of “cheating,” a compromising of one’s
honor.
But Luis was realistic and overruled her. Why should their daughter be put at a disadvantage? He even generously offered to subsidize Barney, who was too proud to accept.
    Barney worked Christmas Day (at double pay) since it was Lowenstein’s turn to act as the emergency pharmacy in the area. It was lonely for him—especially since Laura never seemed to be around. She was always either at a tutoring class or out somewhere having fun.
    She did resurface the week before the SATs, and offered to share some of the tricks she had acquired. These he gratefully accepted, and the two spent several evenings boning up together.
    The result was a happy irony. While Laura came up with an admirable 690 in the verbal and 660 in Math, Barney scored 720 and 735.
    “Gosh, Barn,” she said, “those numbers could get you into any school in the country.”
    “Listen, Castellano,” he answered wryly, “if I could’ve played ball this year, the only score I would have needed was twenty points a game.”
    As the harsh winter weather wore him down, Barney began to come home from work a mere zombie. Sometimes he would get as little as four hours sleep. But this was his last term, the home stretch. In a few weeks, they would hear from the colleges and it would be all over but the shouting.
    Or the crying.
    One Saturday evening, he stayed till nearly midnight, helping Mr. Lowenstein take inventory. He slogged home through the gray slush and staggered up the steps, thinking only of sleep and hoping for no dreams of aspirins, antihistamines, and laxatives.
    But as he was removing his coat, his stomach reminded him that it had only been fed a sandwich for dinner and he dragged himself toward the kitchen. To his surprise, the light was still on. And to his added astonishment, Laura was sitting there.
    “Hey, what the hell brings you here so late—especially on a Saturday night?” he asked.
    “Barney, I’ve got to talk to you. It’s serious.”
    “Dad?” he asked as an instant reflex. “Has something happened to Dad?”
    “No, no.” She paused and then added, barely audibly, “It’s me, Barn. I’m in trouble. I know you’re tired.…”
    “That’s okay, that’s okay. Sit down, I’ll get a sandwich and we’ll talk.”
    “No, not here. Can we go for a walk?”
    “At this hour?”
    “Just around the block, you could eat your sandwich on the way.”
    He focused intently on her for the first time. There was a look of panic in her eyes.
    “Okay, Castellano, okay.”
    He grabbed a handful of chocolate chip cookies, threw on his mud-spattered pea jacket, and they went out into the streets.
    They covered the first hundred yards in total silence. Finally, Barney could stand the suspense no longer. “Will you please tell me what’s wrong?”
    “I … I’m overdue,” she stammered. “It’s been six weeks.”
    “You mean to tell me you’re pregnant?”
    She could only nod.
    “Oh God, how the hell did this happen?”
    “I don’t know, Barn. I’m ashamed, I really am. And I’m scared as hell.”
    He was suddenly consumed by an inexplicable sense of betrayal.
    “Why the hell don’t you go to the SOB who did it?” he snapped. He could not bring himself to say the word “father.”
    She shook her head. “Because he’s a schmuck. You’re the only person I could tell about this.”
    “Am I supposed to feel flattered?” He took a weary breath and, realizing how desperate she was, tried to master his own feelings. “Okay,” he said slowly and deliberately, “can I just for the record know who the guy is?”
    “It’s … Sandy Leavitt.”
    Barney could not suppress his anger. “Why
him
of all people?”
    “Please,” she entreated, “if I wanted to get screamed at I could have told my parents.” And then the tears