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I wasn’t sure I liked that idea, but spending time with him really was all that mattered. “What time should I be ready?” I asked.
“I’ll text you Friday once I know.”
“Great. And maybe you can catch up on your sleep by then,” I teased.
“Don’t worry, Lindsay, I’ll be full of energy by then,” he warned.
It was nice that we could still joke back and forth. I didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between us. Even though I told myself I wouldn’t say anything just yet, my lips let the words flow out anyway. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“I hope you’re only speaking about being upset with my getting…loud with Samantha.”
“Trust me, I’m not sorry about anything prior to that.” That was fucking a…mazing.
“Good. Because I have no regrets and I didn’t want you to either. But as far as how I spoke to Samantha, I should be the one apologizing. I was tired and my patience was short. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t seem to get my point across,” he explained.
I chuckled. “I told you that you’d understand when you met her. She is like hurricane-force winds when she sets her mind to something. I just wish she could direct it toward something useful.”
My phone buzzed that I was receiving a text from her. “Speaking of Samantha, she’s texting me now.” I read the text while Phillip held the line.
PHONE IS ALMOST DEAD. NEED TO CANCEL TONIGHT. I’M AT THE EMERGENCY ROOM.
My heart skipped a beat or two. Oh, my God. There were no details. I quickly responded. WHAT HAPPENED. ARE YOU OKAY?
“Sorry, Phillip, I’m just responding to Samantha. She sent me a very…concerning text.”
“If you need me to let you go, we can talk later,” he offered.
“I…” Come on, Samantha. Text me back, damn it. “Phillip, I need to go.” I’m sure the panic running through me was evident in my tone.
“Lindsay, what happened?”
“I don’t know. She said she has to cancel tonight because she is in the ER. I tried texting her back, but she hasn’t answered.”
“I’m coming to get you,” he said.
“No. You have work. Besides, I don’t know which hospital she’s at,” I stated. “I’m going to try calling them.”
“They’re not going to release any information to you due to HIPAA guidelines.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a law that protects a patient’s privacy,” he explained.
“We’re best friends. She tells me everything. Samantha wouldn’t care if they told me,” I said firmly.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t, but the hospital doesn’t know that. They can’t say anything or risk someone bringing a lawsuit against them.”
I’d forgotten that he was a lawyer. “How about if I go there? Will they tell me then?”
He waited and then said, “Like any law, there are always loopholes.”
“And what is the loophole around this one?” I asked hopefully.
“You could go to the ER and tell them you’re here to see her. Give them her name and ask if she can have any visitors yet. They will assume that you know she is there. They might ask if you’re family or ask for some other personal information, like her birthday or something, which I’m sure you know.”
“So I need to lie to get the answer?” It was something I didn’t like doing, but for Samantha, I’d do it.
“Not lie. Just ask questions. If she is not at that ER, they will tell you that there isn’t anyone there by that name.”
