KEVIN STAYED FOR THE rest of the conference. During the breaks, he received many compliments on his talk. Returning to an empty apartment didn’t sour his mood. He opened a beer and put his feet up on the kitchen table. His only regret was Marco’s absence. Earlier that week, Marco’s mother had been in a car crash. It still wasn’t clear she would survive. When Kevin came home, there was a telegram from Mexico City on the doorstep. Marco said her prognosis was better but not good enough for him to be flying back any time soon.
Pacing through the two-bedroom apartment, Kevin wished he could share his elation. Gwen would be the perfect person—someone he was sure wouldn’t be threatened by his success. But it was Friday night. She would be with her family. She had a life outside work.
In the living room, he studied a framed print, enlarged from a photo Marco had taken of Pico de Orizaba, the highest mountain in Mexico. Marco had climbed to the summit on his eighteenth birthday. Suddenly exhausted, Kevin sprawled on the couch.
I should be humble, he thought, not jubilant. Herb and Ray made this possible. I happened to be in the right place at the right time, and they gave me the chance to do something worthwhile—incredibly worthwhile.
Looking at the photograph, he wondered if Marco really would share his joy. Kevin was already traveling a lot to attend scientific meetings and confer with pharmaceutical companies interested in drug development. Now he’d probably be invited to give talks in other cities, maybe other countries. He’d be getting more requests for interviews from reporters. The demands on his time would increase. Exponentially increase, he realized. How would he handle that? Would he become arrogant? He had seen it occur in others on the academic medicine fast track. And even if he was a paragon of humility, would Marco be threatened by his rising star? Marco had seemed distant recently. What if their relationship couldn’t survive such a major change in status?
Kevin got up and rummaged through the bathroom cabinet for Marco’s bottle of Halcion, prescribed months ago while he was churning out his first NIH grant application and suffered from insomnia. Kevin washed a tablet down with another beer.