The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection

by Patricia Kiyono

  “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this myself. You don’t need to treat me like a child.” Then she swept through the doorway. The nurse cast him a commiserating look before closing it.

  Mike sat. What else could he do?

  The nurse at the reception desk chuckled. She waited until the examination room door closed before she leaned toward the window. “Don’t feel bad. My grandmother was the same way. But make sure you stay on her. She kept insisting she was okay and refused any treatment until it was… too late.” Her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed on the last words. She took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve heard Matt and Kathy both express concern about your mother. And they’re right to be worried. Any time someone’s personality changes drastically, there’s a medical issue involved. If she won’t tell you and won’t cooperate with the doctor visits, you might have to take drastic measures. I’ve already told my mother that if she ever starts pulling what grandma did I wouldn’t just take her word for it that she’s okay. If she won’t go for doctor visits, I’ll place her in a nursing home or get Power of Attorney to make decisions for her.”

  She sat back and reached for a tissue while Mike gathered his thoughts. His mother could be stubborn, but if she was sick, he wanted her to get the care she needed. Would Matt and Kathy agree to extreme measures if she didn’t cooperate?

  As if on cue, his phone beeped, alerting him to a text. It was from Matt. “How’s the appointment?”

  He texted back, “Don’t know. She wouldn’t let me come with her.”

  “Bummer,” came the immediate response. “We may have to start getting tough.”

  Well, he had his answer. Matt was on board for the extreme measures.

  “I agree,” he typed back. “She won’t like it.”

  “Too bad. She wouldn’t sit still for us behaving like this.”

  Matt had a point. But what could they do?

  None of the magazines in the rack interested him, so he decided to check his email. How in the world had he managed before he had a smart phone? There were several messages from his secretary so he dealt with those first. His PA was quite efficient, so she didn’t bother him with mindless minutiae, only the important stuff. There were messages from friends wanting to get together. And then a message from Monica Henderson.

  He’d met Monica at a business meeting. The financial planner was a stunning brunette — last week she was, anyway — and for some reason she was interested in him. But whether she was interested in him as a man or interested in his wallet, he couldn’t be sure. She must have heard he and Lisette had parted ways. This particular message was an invitation to a dinner party at a mutual friend’s home. Since he had no idea how long he’d be in Zutphen, he declined, not giving specifics about where he was or why.

  Finished with his emails, he decided to take a look at his social media page. He didn’t check in often, but it was handy for keeping up with his friends and family.

  “Tending to business?” His mother had reappeared.

  The phone went back in his pocket. “Nothing that can’t wait. All set?” He rose and followed her out to the car.

  He opened the car door for her and waited while she settled herself in. Not until they were on the road back to Zutphen did he dare approach the topic he knew she didn’t want to discuss.

  “So what did the doctor say?”

  “Nothing new. I’m getting old. End of story.”

  He hadn’t expected more than that. But he needed to know what was going on.

  “So you’re basically healthy?”

  “Yes. I’m just fine.” Loretta sat ramrod straight, hands on her purse, staring straight ahead. She offered no other information.

  “What does he attribute your change in personality to?” Might as well grab the bull by the horns.

  “Change in personality? Whatever are you talking about, Michael? Are you saying I’m unpleasant to be around?”

  “I’m saying you’re not willing to bless people with your presence. Your social calendar used to be crammed full of events. Now we’re lucky to see you for dinner. You can’t seem to come up with an explanation, and we’re all worried.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but there is absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m old and tired. I don’t enjoy running around like a madwoman, sticking my nose into everyone else’s business, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “If one of us changed suddenly like that, you’d be after us like a hound dog until you got an answer.”

  Loretta turned and stared out the side window but said nothing.

  “We’re not giving up, Mom.” Mike told her. “I came to Zutphen because I wanted to see my family, but I’m staying because Matt, Kathy, and I are all convinced something is wrong and we aren’t going to stop asking until we find out what it is. So you can be as prickly and uncooperative as you like, but this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

  That got a reaction. She turned and glared. “Are you threatening me, young man?”

  He was ready for that and kept his tone even. “Just stating the facts. We’re going to find answers, whether you like it or not.”

  Chapter Five

  Helen sank into her recliner. Another family had moved out of the area, far enough that the family had transferred their membership to another church. She’d spent the morning on the phone asking, cajoling, begging other kids to participate in the Christmas pageant — to no avail. She had exactly sixteen who were willing to get on stage for the drama portion of the program, and over half of them insisted they would not speak. They would stand on the stage in costume but did not want to memorize lines. Some even insisted they didn’t want to wear costumes. What on earth was she going to do with only six people willing to say anything? She’d definitely made the right decision to give this up.

  Students and families had moved out of Zutphen looking for better paying jobs. Those with jobs in Grand Rapids and Holland had decided to move there to avoid the long commute. That left her with a very small cast. Joanie Bennett reported a smaller group of first through third graders, but not to the extent she had. What was she going to do?

  She grabbed the notebook she’d found in her desk. In past years she’d written plays according to who she had. Sometimes she had a boy who shone, sometimes it was a girl. But now there was no one who really had a commanding presence. There were only four sixth graders, two boys and two girls. Five fifth graders and seven fourth graders. None of them had seemed eager to have a speaking part, though in the past, a few of them had had short lines in the pageant.

  There was nothing for it. She’d have to go with a narrator, possibly an adult. What should he or she say?

  Her phone rang, startling her. She found her phone on the kitchen counter where she’d plugged it in for the night. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom,” her younger son greeted her. “Are you busy?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out how to write a Christmas script for a cast of sixteen. Only six are willing to speak.”

  “Only sixteen kids this year? That’s a bummer. I heard the elementary school is really seeing a drop in enrollment, too. All these people moving out to find jobs in the bigger cities.”

  “I know. It’s too bad. If I were still raising you two, I’d much rather live out here than in the city. I’m so glad you and Paul are nearby.”

  “We are too. Listen, Bonnie is supposed to bring a children’s book to a baby shower next week and I told her she should take this book about the mom and her son that you always used to read to us at night. What was the name of it?”

  “It was called Love You Forever. I think the author’s name is Robert Munsch.”

  She heard him repeat the information and assumed he was writing it down. “Thanks, Mom. And good luck on the script. Maybe you can have someone pretend to read the Christmas story like a bedtime story. Spice it up a little, though, to make it interesting for the kiddos.”

  Jonathan could always put a smile on her face. “Spi
ce up the Christmas story? I’m not sure how that would work in Zutphen, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  She hung up, replugged her phone into the charger, and went back to her notebook. Having a narrator read the Christmas story had been done before, but as Jonathan had reminded her, she’d need to spice it up, so to speak. She needed to make it interesting, like one of the stories she and Joe had read to the kids…

  An idea took seed in her head. Grabbing her pen, she jotted down the outline of her idea. She could take the students who’d agree to a few lines, and make them part of a little family, listening to their father read aloud from a book. They would be on the front of the stage, in a corner set to look like a modern day home. He’d read the Christmas story to the kids. And the kids would ask questions, which the father would answer. And while the father was answering, the lights on the main part of the stage would go up, showing the characters of long ago…

  Her pen danced across the page as bits of the script appeared in her head. By the time she headed for bed, she’d filled several pages in her notebook and her fingers cramped from holding her pen, but she had the framework of a workable script. Tomorrow she’d type it on her computer and print it out. Or better yet, she could take it to Harriet Eckman at the church office and ask her to make copies, since her own printer was almost out of ink. She felt much better having this done.

  ~~~~

  The next Sunday, she was prepared with copies of the new script. She couldn’t wait to see how her idea would work. She knew just the kids she wanted in each of the roles. She walked into the classroom where they were to meet, and her heart sank.

  Only a dozen students looked up at her. Where was everyone?

  Randi James rewarded her with a look of surprise.

  “Oh… hello, Mrs. DeGroot. Were we going to begin rehearsals today? I’m so sorry, I forgot.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. James. I’m not really ready for a full rehearsal yet, but I wonder if I could just borrow three or four of your students for about a half hour?”

  Randi looked relieved. “Of course. Who will you need?”

  Helen checked her list. “I’d like to see David, Tyler, Melissa, and Jennie, please.”

  “Okay, the students Mrs. DeGroot asked for — David Tyler, Melissa, and Jennie. We’ll see you in a little while.”

  The four students called rose and came toward her. Helen wasn’t sure where they would work, but she’d walk around until she could find something. Maybe the cafeteria? She headed that way, the children dutifully following her. Jennie and Melissa asked about the play, peppering her with questions.

  “Do I have a lot of lines?”

  “You have several. All of you do.”

  “So are we practicing separately because we have the most lines?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I thought we’d go to the cafeteria. We have to find a place where we can read aloud.”

  “Okay. Mrs. James was gonna show some little kid movie. I’m glad we’re missing that.”

  Well, at least this rehearsal rates above a kiddie movie.

  Rounding the corner and reaching the cafeteria, she groaned aloud. Adults filled the room. No empty tables here.

  “Good morning, Helen. Are you and these students joining the congregational meeting?” Roger Tanner, the school counselor and a member of the church consistory, greeted her.

  “Oh! No, I’d forgotten about that. I’m looking for a place to rehearse for the Christmas pageant with these students.”

  “Ah. Well, you’re welcome to use my office. That will be a lot quieter. Come with me.” He led the way to the front of the building and unlocked the door to his office. Thankfully, the room included a round table and four chairs. Roger pulled his desk chair over to the table.

  “Here you go. Just turn out the lights and close the door when you’re done. I’ll come back and lock up after the meeting.”

  “Thank you, Roger.”

  She and the students settled in seats around his table.

  Half an hour later, she dismissed the students to go back to their Sunday School department. The general story was good, but she’d have to do some rewriting. She’d been so sure that David would do well as the father reading aloud to his children. But the boy was unsure of himself in the part, and wasn’t sure he wanted to read so much. He finally stopped and asked, “Mrs. DeGroot, can’t I just be one of the kids?”

  Maybe it would be better to have an adult be the father. The person doing those lines wouldn’t even have to memorize the part — since the character was basically reading out of a book, the lines could be hidden inside whatever book was being used as a prop.

  Once the kids were back in their Sunday School classes, she returned to the auditorium. Last year, the pageant had been held in the VanEerden’s barn. It was a wonderful experience, but this year, Carol and Les had decided to sell their farm. Fortunately, arrangements had been made to hold all church services in the auditorium, so the pageant would take place there. Thanks to a strong and active theater department, the high school boasted excellent lighting and sound systems and rooms full of props and costumes. She had a meeting set up with the theater director so that she could familiarize herself with the backstage area, but since she had time before Paul and his family would be ready to leave, she decided to walk through.

  She stepped onto the stage, envisioning the story she’d written. The father and his family would be over there, to the left. The stable would be off to the right. There were just enough students to depict Joseph, Mary, three shepherds, and three Wise Men. And an innkeeper. As long as she didn’t lose any more students, it would work.

  “Are you lost?”

  She spun around at the sound of the voice behind her. It was the tall, handsome man from the grocery store. “Oh, hello again. I was just trying to block out the scenes in the Christmas pageant.”

  “Ah, yes, the Christmas pageant. It’s good that you’re starting early.”

  “I have to. I only get the kids once a week for now. Twice a week starting next month. What about you? Was there supposed to be a class here in the auditorium?”

  “No, I was at the congregational meeting in the cafeteria. Matt asked me to come here and get his glasses. I guess he left them on the podium after his sermon.” He walked over to the wooden box and retrieved the glasses. “Nice to see you again.” He left, and once again she admired his retreating figure. He’d come for Pastor Sikkema’s glasses. He had the same sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes as the pastor. Was he related? Why hadn’t she seen him before?

  Get a grip! He’s just here for a visit. Forget about the way your heart melts when he looks at you. You’re too old for that nonsense.

  She continued her tour of the stage. But a part of her couldn’t stop wondering, despite the warnings to herself.

  Chapter Six

  Mike set his phone down carefully, afraid he might break something if he gave in to his emotions. The news he’d just received from his secretary would set him back a full month. He’d thought everything was ready for next month’s article in his series called Senior Getaways, but now that wouldn’t be happening. Well, not any time soon. His best reviewer was quitting.

  Seniors loved to travel — well, most seniors, anyway. They had the disposable income and the time to go. But they needed special amenities, sometimes. Close to medical care. Special medical equipment. Wheelchair accessibility. Hearing aids. Guides. Slower paces on tours. Air conditioning was a must. Lots of resorts claimed that they were set up to handle seniors but didn’t deliver. This series was aimed at showcasing the best vacation spots for the elderly.

  So that left him. Normally he would simply pick a spot, go there, take pictures, and write a quick article, but right now he needed to focus on his mother.

  Except the lady remained stubbornly in her apartment, refusing to go anywhere, despite their appointment with the specialist.

  After Mike’s first Sunday in to
wn, Loretta had flatly refused to leave the apartment, even to go to church, stating simply that she “didn’t feel up to it.” Many evenings she didn’t even come to the table for dinner, insisting she’d just heat up a can of soup.

  And now this.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1. Maybe they’ll have a way to get you out of that room.”

  “Go ahead. You’ll just get in trouble for sending a false alarm.”

  “We’ll see.” Using his smart phone, he located the number for the local sheriff’s department, hoping that the person answering would be friendly enough to listen to his dilemma.

  “Ottawa County Sheriff’s Department, Zutphen office. Greta speaking. How may I direct your call?”

  “Hello, Greta. I’m not sure if you can help me, but I’m Mike Sikkema. I’m—”

  “Sikkema? Are you related to Pastor Sikkema?”

  “Uh, yes. I’m his brother. Anyway—”

  “Fine man, Pastor Sikkema. We love him. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, our mother isn’t feeling well, and—”

  “Loretta’s sick? I wondered why she hasn’t been coming to church lately. She was always right there in the front row, showing us all what we’re supposed to be doing. What’s the matter with Loretta?”

  “Well, we’re not sure. We have an appointment with a specialist in Grand Rapids to try and find out, but she won’t go.”

  “Won’t go? Why not?”

  “She won’t leave her rooms. I told her I’d call 9-1-1, but she called my bluff. I don’t know who to call.”

  The line was silent for so long Mike started to wonder if Greta had hung up.

  Finally, “I’ve got an idea. What time is Loretta’s appointment?”

  Mike checked his watch. “In an hour. We’d have to leave here in fifteen minutes if we’re going to get there on time.”

  “Does she have a phone?”

  “She has a cell phone, but I don’t know if she’s got it charged up.”

  “Give me the number. If it doesn’t ring, we’ll use yours and you’ll have to get her on the line.”