Holly nodded and headed to the break room.
“Dad, when I wrap up this phone call, you are going upstairs.”
“I’m needed here, Brandon. I’m feeling good.”
“But you agreed to…”
His dad didn’t seem to notice Brandon was talking to him. His aging father hummed to himself, as if he was pleased with his successful coup to avoid bed rest.
Brandon watched his dad look up and down a shelf for a med. The pharmacy had the same organizational setup now as it had since its opening, so there was no way it should take him this long to find a common drug. “Look, you’re either going upstairs or back to the hospital. Your choice.”
“May I remind you that I’m the parent and I own this building? I’m not old enough yet for you to take over my affairs.”
“I didn’t give up my own life, study time, and actual paid hours to stand beside you in this pharmacy while you have another stroke.”
Dad finally found the medicine he was looking for and placed it in the basket he was holding. “They need help.”
Then hire more help! This small pharmacy felt busier than his Saturdays as an intern at BB Drugs in Philadelphia. There should be enough profits on the weekends to support hiring help.
Brandon watched his dad from the corner of his eye, wishing he could stop this chaos and just get him up the stairs and into bed. Finally he heard the click of the doctor’s office line reconnecting.
“Dr. Rodger’s office.” A clipped female voice answered. Had she forgotten that she left him on hold?
“Yes, this is Brandon over at Greene’s Pharmacy. We’re filling insulin for one of your patients, and the script says ‘use as directed.’ ”
“Yes…”
“With those instructions it’s not legal to bill an insurance company. We need specific instructions or a maximum number of units to use per day.” He gave her the patient’s name and birthday.
She scoffed. “Well, the patient’s been on that same med for years and knows how to use it.”
“I understand that, but the insurance company has protocols. Legally, we can’t fill the script as it’s currently written. I’m sure you understand—”
“I’ll call you later after I speak with the doctor.” Click. Brandon bet it would be a few hours before they heard back from the office—if they heard at all—and the patient surely would end up frustrated with the pharmacy.
Brandon had just hung up the phone when it rang again. He jerked it from its cradle, hoping to sound professional. “Greene’s Pharmacy. This is Brandon. How may I help you?”
“I heard Doc Lyle had some sort of serious illness. I wanted to check on him.”
Brandon pulled air into his lungs and counted to three. “Lyle is doing well. He’ll be out for a few weeks recuperating, but the pharmacy will keep its regular hours with a pharmacist here to serve all customers as needed.”
“So what about the health fair that’s supposed to be held this Saturday? Is that still taking place?”
His dad staggered, and the prescription basket in his hand with its bottle and papers went flying. Dad! Brandon dropped the phone and lunged forward, reaching for his dad. Somehow he managed to grab his dad by the chest and just barely keep him from banging his head against the pharmacy counter. He guided his dad’s body upright, returned his cane to him, and stared at his face. It didn’t appear to be another stroke. Just a stumble. A stumble that could have landed Dad back in the hospital with another concussion.
“This is enough.” Brandon barely kept his voice from yelling. “We are going upstairs now.”
Adrienne stared wide eyed at Brandon as he raised his voice to his father. The eyes of the few nearby customers were on him. Somehow the tables had turned, and he sounded like the parent scolding a child who had gotten himself into danger.
“My foot must have caught on the shelf corner,” his father mumbled, his voice shaking.
The phone’s handset was bobbing up and down, its black coil cord dangling from the pharmacy counter.
“Hallo? Hallo? Anyone there?”
Adrienne answered it. “Hello. This is Adrienne. May I help you?”
The voice on the other end came through faintly. “No. I need to talk to that Brandon guy I was talking to. No one else.”
Brandon steadied his dad, supporting him firmly under his forearm as he guided him toward the exit gate of the pharmacy.
“Brandon, the man on the phone insists on speaking to you.”
He took the handset. “This is Brandon Greene.”
“Ya, we were talking about the health fair, and something happened. You’re Lyle’s boy, right? So what’s the plan about the health fair?”
“I don’t have a good answer for you, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be canceled. My dad just had a stroke, and I need to focus on him, not on anything else.” He dropped the receiver into its cradle, hoping the man would get a clue and stop calling with questions that had nothing to do with running the pharmacy.
At the pace of that proverbial turtle, Brandon helped his dad up the stairs.
“I’m needed in the pharmacy.”
“No, you need to rest and recuperate. I talked with Todd Thompson yesterday.”
“Todd?” His dad didn’t sound impressed, but maybe he was just out of breath.
Brandon held firmly to his dad’s elbow as they continued up the stairs. “Yeah, I thought you’d like the idea of your former employee filling in for you. It’s been ten years since he quit, but he knows the store and probably still knows a lot of the customers.”
“That’s true, but…” Dad breathed deeply as they finally got to the landing.
Garbage bags filled with Brandon’s stuff from his room in the apartment were pushed up against the walls of the oversized landing. He had been fortunate to find a student who wanted to sublease the room. Brandon was probably charging the young man too little, as the money didn’t quite cover his portion of the rent that he was still responsible for. But he had to fill the spot as soon as possible, and he’d need the room back, hopefully next month. There was no point in unpacking.
“Dad, Todd has taken off time from his regular job with BB Drugs to help out. I can’t believe his company agreed to let Harris do this for the last five years, and now they’re letting Todd do the same. But since they’re a huge company, I guess they have plenty of floater pharmacists, so they can have a pretty lenient policy.” Brandon unlocked the apartment door and opened it. “I know you and Todd had a disagreement ten years ago, but he wants to lend a hand during this time, and Greene’s Pharmacy can’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
While his dad sat in his recliner, catching his breath, Brandon slunk into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, hoping there was something edible inside. Annoyance pounded, much like his head. But thankfully there was a foil-covered dish with a note on top from Holly’s mom.
“Hey.” Dad’s voice was quiet.
Brandon turned. “You need something?”
His dad looked so different from the man of Brandon’s childhood. Dad held firmly to the cane in his hand as he leaned against the doorframe for support. His chest was still heaving, probably from the meds to regulate his heart. “No…” Dad shook his head. “Well, yeah. I guess.” He had something on his mind.
“There’s no time for shyness. Just spit it out. What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing. I just…well…Thanks for dropping everything to be here for me. And thanks for getting Todd to help out. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. You’re doing more than I deserve, and—”
“Don’t.” Brandon lifted his hand. As frustrated as he was with having to live here for now and reduce his work hours at his dream company, he was acutely aware of how blessed he was to still have his father, mind mostly intact, after a stroke. But they di
dn’t have to exchange a lot of emotional stuff that his dad wouldn’t have said if he hadn’t come so close to dying. “I’m glad you’re okay, and we’ll get through this, but you are going to follow the doctor’s orders to a T and focus on recovering. I’ll handle everything else. Okay?”
Sunrays peeped over the horizon, illuminating hills that were nearing their peak autumn color, as Holly drove toward town. She kept blinking in an effort to ease the dryness and grittiness in her eyes. Her lack of sleep aside, today was perfect, everything she’d spent years praying for—excellent health-care providers at booths, community support, and a clear Indian summer October day.
“How’re ya holding up?” Ivy leaned back and stretched as far as her arms could go above her head in the buggy. “I could have helped you more last night on the preparations. You didn’t have to order me to bed.”
“I’m great, and that’s what big sisters do—order you young uns around.” She stifled a yawn. “Besides, I need your mind functioning at full capacity if you are going to oversee and direct our setup.”
Although Holly had tied the last bow on the tulle-encased giveaways around three this morning, she felt rejuvenated by the anticipation of this event she had worked on tirelessly for months. It was all coming together. Next time it wouldn’t take more than a year to pull together a solid health fair. She’d made good connections, learned a lot, and taken impeccable notes.
Dew on the grass sparkled as she pulled into Raysburg Field. This simple field was usually empty except to shelter a few horses for Amish customers and workers in the downtown area. But in just a short time, she and the other volunteers would transform it into the most amazing health fair the town had ever seen.
“Arriving on majestic Raysburg Field”—Ivy spread her arms open wide—“our team’s star player: Holly! Will she bring it home or choke in the ninth inning due to staying up all night?” Ivy directed her best baseball-announcer voice into her hand “microphone” as Holly slowed Stevie to a stop in front of the hitching post.
Holly pursed her lips together and glared at her sister, who met her annoyance with a giant grin. “Oh hush, you. I’m not the star player. Those would be the actual professionals who volunteered to be here. Or the brave Amish who will come to get a checkup for the first time.” She shoved a clipboard into her sister’s hands. “If I were you, I’d keep to myself that familiarity with what professional baseball announcers sound like before the ministers realize you do more than just clean when you’re in Englisch homes.” Holly shooed her away. “Now take your pestering and put it to good use.”
Ivy laughed and pretended to swat her older sister with the clipboard. She hopped out of the buggy. Holly had full faith in her little sister to do a great job directing all the volunteers in the setup. Ivy had a knack for getting people to work together but in such a gentle, lighthearted way that they wouldn’t realize how hard they were working.
Holly jumped down, tethered Stevie to the hitching post, and surveyed the green space. It seemed she had timed her arrival perfectly with the rental company who was putting up the tents. There was no time to stand around. The to-do list in her sweater pocket was burning a hole in the fabric. Could she get her portion of the work done and be ready in four hours? Unlike Ivy, who would greet all the workers and volunteers and help them get set up, Holly would hide out in the largest event tent to do all her tasks. She pushed her sweater sleeves up past her elbows, stacked two boxes together, and carried them to a table she would use for giveaways.
The time went by quickly as she put up partitions to provide privacy for the individual well checks. She then put the right equipment in each cubicle according to the marked boxes Julie had given her.
Holly wiped sweat off her forehead and took stock of all she’d done. Oh, signs. She pulled several from a box and hung the appropriate ones on each partitioned section of the tent. This was the largest tent she’d rented, and it now looked perfect for giving people a reasonable amount of privacy. She couldn’t help but grin. Today numerous Amish people who’d ignored their health for years, perhaps for decades, would get a good checkup and consultation.
The flap on the tent door opened. “Excuse me, Miss Zook?” A man in an EMT uniform entered. “The young woman with a clipboard told me to come find you.” He gestured out the tent door. “The fire truck is here, and we were wondering where we need to pull in.”
“Here, already?” What time was it? She reached for her cell, but it wasn’t in her pocket. It dawned on her that she hadn’t seen it since arriving. Her best guess was that in her hurry to get out the door with all the stuff in tow, she hadn’t grabbed her phone.
The man looked at his watch. “It’s quarter of ten. Did I get the time mixed up?”
“Oh no. I just lost track of time.” She imagined the joy of little boys and girls when they got to climb on the massive red fire engine. Excitement pumped through her, making her smile. “Come on. I’ll show you.” Holly stepped out of the tent.
The midmorning sun was bright, and she once again noted how perfect the weather was for a health fair. But where were the Amish? It dawned on her how quiet things were as she’d set up inside her tent. There should’ve been lots of voices as background noise while she worked for the last twenty or so minutes.
The different medical vendors were ready to go under large white event tents that had bold print signs advertising their services. In the center of the field, the tables of healthy fruits and vegetables donated from the locally owned grocery store down the road stood in full bounty and made her mouth water. In her nervousness about getting everything done on time this morning, she had forgotten to eat breakfast. As she led the EMT toward the place the truck would park, she walked by teens from the nearby Englischer high school who had set up a few health-themed science fair exhibits. They were standing around and giggling among themselves.
She smiled broadly. “Good morning.”
She received an out-of-sync chorus of hellos.
“The truck should go right over here.” She gestured to a roped-off area on the field that had a sign marked EMT. The EMT removed the flagging that stretched from one stake to another and signaled to the driver, who waved at them and pulled the truck into the space.
Holly searched the field, looking for groups of Amish or rigs. Where was everyone? She pointed. “You can set up your twelve-lead EKG screening in this tent. You have the sign, correct?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Are you sure of the time?” Judging by the sun’s position, the man had told her correctly. But if that was right, why weren’t more Amish people here?
He pulled out a phone and looked at the time. “My watch is right. It’s now five till ten.”
Holly’s heart turned a flip. Something was wrong. Five minutes before time to start and almost no one was here? “I thought we’d have more people by now.”
The EMT shrugged. “I was thinking the same thing.”
She thanked him and left. Maybe there was a large gathering on the other side of the tents that were looming in front of her. She hurried across the grounds.
Almost no one except volunteers and vendors. What was going on?
She took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic that threatened to knock her feet out from under her. She had counted ten Amish so far. Ten. They were expecting nearly two hundred. Had the wrong information about the starting time gone out to people? That didn’t seem possible. She’d made the flyers herself and triple-checked everything.
She hurried through the center of the grassy field, nodding and smiling at the medical vendors. She hoped her smile seemed genuine and hid the anxiety eating at her. Everything and everyone was ready and waiting for her people.
At last she reached Julie’s station. A few Englischers were there, probably people who’d been shopping in the area and were drawn to the field by the tents, bringing Holly’s visit
or count to around twenty-five.
“Hey there, Holly Noelle.” Julie smiled as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “You look like you need to sit down for a spell.” Julie pulled out a plastic folding chair.
Holly shook her head. “What happened, Jules?” Tears brimmed, threatening to spill over. “Where are all my people?”
Julie shrugged. “Sometimes these things happen, but I don’t know why our turnout is this bad. Are you sure your bishop was as supportive as you thought? Perhaps there was some dissention you were unaware of.” Julie separated different papers with information on diabetes into stacks.
“Surely not!”
“Well, all we can do is make the best of it, right? Try to spread the word that my first fifteen-minute diabetes class will begin in a few minutes in case the visitors didn’t see the posters.”
Holly’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Although Julie was being so kind, Holly was quite aware of how valuable her time was as a medical professional, as was the time of all the people who had volunteered. Holly had been the one to push for this fair, to contact all the vendors, to ask that people donate their time and resources. This fair represented more than a year’s worth of work for her.
Tears filled her eyes again. Where could she go to get a minute alone? She walked around to the opposite side of Julie’s tent, away from the eyes of the volunteers and the very small crowd that had come, and took a deep breath. How could today be such a failure?
Her legs shook, and she sat down in the dew-covered grass, not caring if her dress got wet. Hidden away from the meager number of visitors, she drew her knees to her chest and covered her face with her arms. She finally allowed the tears to fall, darkening the fabric of her half apron and plum-colored dress.
Today was supposed to quietly honor her Daed’s life, to acknowledge the huge hole he’d left while finding ways to prevent others from experiencing a similar unnecessary loss. But now the funds for advertising, renting tents, and providing medical supplies were gone. So much effort for nothing. How could she ask the health-care professionals and vendors to come to another fair after this fiasco?
The Christmas Remedy Page 6