For the Love of Friends(52)

He hung up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, his face suddenly pale. “I have to go.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“My dad—another heart attack—I have to—”

I slid out of the booth, grabbing my coat and scarf. “Which hospital?”

“Sibley.”

I punched it into my phone while he threw some cash down on the table. “I’ll have an Uber here in two minutes. Come on. Let’s go outside.” He nodded and followed me to the door. “Did she say how bad it is?”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” I wasn’t. This was his second, which wasn’t a good sign. But, oh God, the look on Alex’s face. “This is us.” I gestured toward the blue sedan that pulled up to the corner.

Alex opened the door and got in, and I went around to the other side. He looked up, surprised to see me in the car. “You don’t need to come.”

I nodded. “Yes, I do.” I turned to the driver. “We’re rushing to the hospital for an emergency, so speed is good tonight.”

“You’ve got it. Everyone okay?”

“We don’t know yet.”

The driver looked at our faces in the rearview mirror. “You’ve got a good girlfriend there,” he told Alex. “Marry the ones who will come with you to the hospital.”

“He’ll take that into consideration,” I said grimly. “But please hurry.”

I picked up Alex’s hand, barely realizing I was doing it, and held it in mine for the entire drive. We didn’t talk.

The Uber driver dropped us at the emergency entrance, and we ran inside to the desk, where we were directed to the cardiac unit. There, in the waiting room, Alex dropped my hand, which I hadn’t realized he was still holding, and embraced an older woman with a tear-stained face. I didn’t need to see that she had the same eyes as Alex to know she was his mother.

“How is he? What happened?” He turned to the younger carbon copy of his mother and hugged her as well.

Sam wiped at her eyes with a tissue. “We were at dinner and he just dropped.”

“What did the doctors say?”

“He’s in emergency surgery right now. We don’t know anything yet.”

“What about the stent from last time?”

“I don’t know.” His mother sank back into her chair. “I don’t know anything. I just told them to do whatever they needed to do.”

Sam noticed me standing there and eyed me warily. “Who’s she?” I felt suddenly selfish for intruding on their family crisis.

Alex flinched. “Sorry. Sam, Mom, this is my friend Lily. Lily, this is my mom, Angie, and my sister, Samantha.”

Samantha shook my hand limply, apparently less irritated now that I was a friend and not more, and told me to call her Sam. His mother nodded in my general direction, but was understandably too distracted for much else.

“I’m going to see if I can get an update,” Alex said, looking around for the nurses’ station.

“They said they’ll tell us when there’s news,” Sam said.

“Well I need to do something.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Angie said quietly. “Just sit. Please.”

Alex sat down heavily next to his mother. I took the seat on his other side, trying to be unobtrusive. His hand was on the armrest between our chairs and I put mine over it. He turned his over to hold mine, and our fingers intertwined, which sent a small jolt of entirely inappropriate excitement down my spine.

No one spoke. My phone vibrated and I slid it discreetly out of my pocket with the hand that wasn’t in Alex’s. It was Becca, asking how the date went. Good, I assume, since you’re not home?

Terrible, actually.

Then where are you?

I texted slowly, left-handed. At Sibley. Alex’s dad had a heart attack.

Oh no! Let me know what happens.

I told her I would and slipped the phone back into my pocket. Alex looked over at the motion. “Everything okay?” he murmured. “You don’t need to stay.”

“I’m fine right here.” I looked over to his mother and sister. “Can I get anyone anything? Water? Coffee?”

They both shook their heads. “I could use a coffee,” Alex said. “I’ll go.”

“Stay,” I told him, standing and untangling our fingers. “You don’t want to be gone if the doctor comes out. I know how you take it.” He nodded and leaned back in the chair, rubbing his eyes. He looked older in the harsh fluorescent lighting, and there was a hint of gray in his sideburns that I swore hadn’t been there earlier.

I followed signs to the café, which was closed, but there was a vending machine that served coffee. I got a cup for Alex and paused as I passed the food machine. They had Skittles, so I got a bag for him as well. We had joked when we went to the movies that his preference was perfect because I wouldn’t steal any—I maintained that the calories weren’t worth it if the candy wasn’t chocolate.

By the time I got back, a doctor was talking to the family. I hung back, not wanting to interrupt, but tried to catch the drift of what he was saying.

“—an excellent prognosis, assuming surgery goes well. It’s a very common procedure.”