The Christmas Remedy Read online

  She looked up to see a younger version of Lyle hurrying toward her.

  Finally.

  Brandon had the same hazel eyes and black hair as his dad, but Lyle’s hair was now salt-and-pepper gray.

  She went to him. “I don’t know anything more than what I told you on the phone.”

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. I just spoke to a nurse. He did have a small stroke, but he’s stabilized and doing well, considering. She said they moved him into an ICU room a few minutes ago. Come on. Let’s go find him.”

  Minutes later a nurse led them into a hospital room. Lyle was reclined in the bed.

  He opened one eye. “Took you two long enough.”

  Holly couldn’t find her voice. The left side of his face drooped, and she rarely saw him reclining even in a chair, but other than that he looked a lot like his usual self. A huge wave of pure relief washed over her.

  He lifted a finger off the bed and wagged it from her to Brandon. “Now which one of you is going to open the pharmacy?”

  “Um…” Holly didn’t quite know what he was asking them to do. She didn’t have the legal authority to open the pharmacy. Had Brandon passed his boards? Holly tried to catch Brandon’s eye. “Do you have your license?”

  He glanced at her but didn’t answer. “Good to see you too, Dad. I think the pharmacy needs to be the least of your concerns right now. But just so you know, I already called Adrienne, and she’s there now. I haven’t been able to reach Harris yet, but he has Tuesday down as an available day to work, so he should be able to cover tomorrow’s shift.”

  Adrienne was the relief pharmacist who worked every Thursday and Saturday to give Lyle a couple of days off each week, and Harris was a fill-in pharmacist for Greene’s, but his full-time job was working for BB Drugs. A couple of years ago the big company had given Harris permission to take any extra hours Lyle offered. Harris worked two jobs in hopes of saving enough money to open his own store one day.

  Lyle waved his hand dismissively. “The Amish patient I’m expecting to see today after church needs a Greene there.”

  Holly’s heart pounded. His words were slurred and a little hard to make out, but he thought today was Sunday?

  “It’s an emergency fill,” he continued. “It took a while to build that kind of trust, and we have to honor it.”

  Brandon frowned. “Dad, it’s Monday.”

  “Monday?” Lyle’s eyes narrowed, as if he thought Brandon was lying to him. Lyle focused on Holly.

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “It’s Monday. When I came in this morning, you had flowers for me, and we talked about what today is, remember?”

  His eyes watered as he shook his head. “No. So did the man get his prescriptions yesterday?”

  “What man, Dad?”

  “I…I can’t remember.” He closed his eyes, his face taut as if he was concentrating. “Did I lose a whole day? Or a week? Did I miss the health fair?” He sounded as if he was speaking to himself.

  Health fair? That wasn’t until this weekend. And did he expect them to be at the pharmacy during a time like this?

  Holly held his hand tight. “The health fair isn’t until this Saturday.”

  “Okay.” He rubbed his head. “I filled a prescription for three members of the Frank Thomas family on Saturday, and…” He rattled off some of the highlights of Saturday’s accomplishments, grounding out each word as if arguing with someone.

  Holly grinned. “Ya, that’s right.”

  “But today’s Monday?”

  She nodded.

  “Did the doctors tell you what happened?” Brandon’s voice was calm and measured, sounding a lot like his dad did when he addressed his patients.

  “I don’t need them to tell me what happened.” Lyle spat a curse word. “I had a stroke. I take good care of myself. I do everything I tell my patients to do. Yet I’m lying here, useless at sixty-five.”

  Holly wanted to say you aren’t useless, but she moved to a window, fighting to keep her emotions under control. Tears kept trying to overwhelm her. In all her time of knowing Lyle, he’d never cursed, raised his voice, or sounded so confused.

  “Irritability is a common symptom after a stroke and concussion.” Brandon held a small tissue over her shoulder. “Personality changes come with the territory. Just take it in stride. It isn’t personal.”

  She took the tissue and forced the right words. “Okay, thanks.”

  Brandon returned to the bedside. “Dad, just try to relax. I promise it’ll—”

  A gentle knock interrupted him, and a female doctor entered. She was probably in her forties, and she had pixie-cut brown hair.

  “Mr. Greene, I’m Dr. Davis. How are you feeling?” She smiled warmly as if they were meeting under happier circumstances.

  “Take a wild guess.”

  “Well, I’d say ill tempered, which is a good sign actually. But we need to talk about a few things, and I can’t guess at the answers, okay?” She smiled at Brandon and then Holly. “I need to ask you to leave, so if you’ll excuse—”

  “This is my family. Whatever you need to tell me, I consent to have them in the room.”

  She nodded. “What we’re dealing with here is known as an ischemic stroke. You also suffered a concussion when you fell. We caught both pretty quickly, so we are feeling optimistic about your prognosis. I’m going to give you a quick exam and ask you a few questions. Just answer as well as you can.”

  Holly stayed near the window, watching as the woman asked a series of what seemed like random questions in pretty quick succession. At one point she drew a clock on her clipboard and asked Lyle to read her the time. After she was done, she made a few notes on her tablet.

  “I’ll be back to check on you soon. In the meantime if you need anything, please page the nurses using this call button.” She smiled as she exited the room.

  Had the doctor told them anything helpful about Lyle’s condition?

  Lyle turned to his son. “So did I pass?”

  Brandon grimaced before looking out the window. “Let’s just speak with the doctor when she comes back.”

  “Come on. I felt like I got ’em all.”

  “It was an MMSE. You scored a fourteen.”

  Lyle rolled his eyes. “It’s been a while since school. Is that good or bad?”

  “It appears your brain isn’t functioning at its usual level. But it could be worse. Please, try to give yourself a break. You just had a stroke.”

  Lyle muttered another curse word. “Guess I’m not getting out of this one easily.” He glanced at Holly, seeming to realize anew that she was in the room. “Sorry about the language, Holly Noelle. Thank you for being here.”

  A tear escaped and rolled down the side of her face. “I wish I knew what to do to help.”

  “Start by getting me out of here. I can’t stay in this hospital. We’ll figure it out from there.”

  Brandon’s eyes met hers, and it was clear he shared her concern. Lyle was undoubtedly not acting like his normal self. What would the path look like from here?

  “Dad, don’t put that on Holly. Your doctors will be the ones best able to determine your care. If you will recover faster by staying in the hospital for a while, then that is what needs to happen.” Brandon rested his hand on his dad’s shoulder.

  A tense silence enveloped the room. Holly needed to say something, anything, to reassure Lyle, but no words came. Not for him or herself. The clock on the wall seemed stuck. It made the right noise, a faint ticktock, and the bright red second hand moved, but time seemed heavy and slow.

  There was a knock on the door. Maybe more time had passed than she realized. Was it the doctor?

  Harris stuck his head in the room. His short blond hair had looked the same every day since Holly met him five years ago, except now he was graying
at the temples. “May I come in?”

  “Yes, come on.” Lyle waved a hand to gesture him in. “We’re waiting for the doctor to return with test results. Could be a while. You know how these things go.”

  Harris walked to Lyle’s bedside. “You look good, although I’m not sure what I was expecting when I got here.”

  “You were expecting to see a man who’s seen better days. And that’s me.” Lyle gestured to his asymmetrical drooping face.

  “I’m sorry this happened.” Harris put a hand on Lyle’s shoulder. “Are you comfortable sharing what you know so far?”

  “Yeah, but Brandon can tell you.”

  Brandon quickly filled in Harris with the information the doctors had given them earlier. No matter how many times Holly heard it, the event still felt surreal.

  “Sounds like the doctors have the situation under control. I apologize for intruding here at the hospital, but I needed to see you with my own eyes. I worked a morning shift at BB Drugs and got Brandon’s message when my shift was over. I’ve canceled my golf plans for today. Whatever you need, name it. Think Adrienne could use a hand?” He glanced from Lyle to Holly to Brandon, looking uncertain as to who could answer his question.

  Holly nodded. “I’m sure she could. Medical emergency or not, it’s still a busy Monday, after all, and she has to be behind since the store was closed until Adrienne could get there.”

  Lyle crossed his arms. “I told these two to get over there and work, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “Then I’ll go right now, so ease your mind about it. Just leave the pharmacy to Adrienne and me. We’ll get caught up in short order. Brandon, you’ll update me when the doctor tells you more?”

  “Of course.”

  Harris moved to Holly. “No worrying, not about Lyle or the pharmacy. Promise me.”

  She nodded, and he gave her a firm but quick hug before saying goodbye to all of them and exiting the hospital room.

  A few minutes later another gentle tap sounded on the door as it swooshed open, and the doctor who had been here earlier reentered. “All right, Mr. Greene. I think we can come up with a plan to get you out of here quickly and yet make sure you are recovering and safe. We need to keep you a few days for observation. This is standard after an ischemic event. Based on the head CT we did, we don’t think you need a stent or surgery. We’re going to give you more medicine to thin your blood. We need to make sure that there’s no pressure on your brain and that any clots are broken up. After that you’ll be released to go home to the care of your family. You will need someone there with you.”

  The doctor glanced at Holly a few times, looking a little confused, maybe because of Holly’s Amish attire, but she didn’t ask. No doubt she saw Amish regularly. They lived in Pennsylvania. But it had to be uncommon for the woman to see an Amish person beside an Englisch patient like this, as if Holly were related to Lyle. The doctor turned her full attention to Brandon. “After his necessary time here, if there isn’t someone who can stay with him, he could be moved to a rehabilitation center for a few weeks.”

  “Be here a few days? Then elsewhere for a few weeks? No way.”

  “Lyle.” Holly used her best parental tone. “You dispense advice with medicine all the time. Now take advice without arguing. If someone within the Amish community knew you didn’t take your doctor’s advice, that balking could undo years of hard work.”

  Lyle rolled his eyes again and sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

  Holly kissed his cheek and wiped off the spot. “Denki.”

  “I’m not going to a rehab facility after this.”

  No one responded to him, and the doctor continued to discuss with him the medications and the type of things they would be checking for while he remained in the hospital. Holly and Lyle had faced worse things. Much worse. They could handle this. She was sure the bishop would allow her to temporarily live with Lyle, sleeping on his couch while she provided care to the widower. She would be right there to help with Lyle’s needs and close to the pharmacy to make sure things were running as smoothly as possible in his absence.

  When the doctor finished talking, she excused herself and left.

  Lyle closed his eyes, looking worn-out. “Are you coming home to take care of me or not?”

  Guilt and frustration seemed to replace Brandon’s earlier concerns for his dad. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Dad. I just can’t. You know what I’m dealing with right now. We will hire someone to come in and take care of you.”

  “I can do it.” Holly poured water from the pitcher on a nearby table into a plastic cup.

  “No.” Lyle’s word was hard and fast. “I need you to stay focused on your routine—your work among your people, studying for the exam to get into nursing school, helping at the pharmacy full time, and preparing for the health fair. That hasn’t happened yet, right?”

  “It’s this Saturday,” she said. “That’s in five days.”

  “Good. That means I didn’t mess that up after all your hard work.”

  “But I can also help take care of you.”

  “I said no. You need to be there with your Mamm. There wouldn’t really be any point in you babysitting me. You can’t physically help me up the stairs to my apartment or anything else I’ll need like that.”

  Lyle wasn’t overweight, but he was quite tall and muscular for a man his age.

  “Then we can hire a male nurse,” Brandon said.

  “Excuse me?” Lyle opened his eyes wider and stared at his son. “I don’t have that sort of money. You know that.”

  “I…didn’t know, actually.” Brandon studied his father. “Dad,” he whispered, “you’re nearing retirement, and you haven’t saved any money?”

  “Just tell the doctor I have help, and I can be on my way in a few days. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  Holly couldn’t make heads or tails of what was being said. “I’m not physically strong enough to help you up the stairs, so you’ll just stay by yourself?”

  Brandon stared at his dad. “Who owns a pharmacy all these years and doesn’t have the money to pay for care?”

  Lyle looked at the ceiling. “I was hoping I would never need to tell you this. Approved cancer treatments weren’t working for your mom, so we went the experimental route, but those aren’t covered by insurance.”

  “Mom had experimental treatments? Why wasn’t I told?”

  “All you needed to know was that your mom was doing everything she could to get well, and she fought valiantly. I cashed my 401(k). I figured I’d be able to rebuild some savings, but the market bottomed out, and the pharmacy doesn’t make the kind of money it used to.”

  Brandon put his hand over his face, and Holly could only imagine what all he was thinking and feeling—the frustration over his dad’s secrets, the concern about the seriousness of his dad’s situation, and the realization of the canyon between Lyle and him.

  Brandon lowered his hand. “Okay.” He pulled out his phone and tapped it a few times, clearly navigating to some piece of information. “Your insurance will cover ninety percent of your stay at a rehab facility until you’re on your feet, but it won’t cover a cent of hiring a private nurse, not under these circumstances. It’s the way it is.” He lowered his phone.

  The room was silent for a bit. Holly wanted to volunteer her services again, but whatever was happening here was between a parent and his adult child.

  “Look, Dad, you would tell your own patients that more than forty percent of stroke survivors suffer serious falls in the first year after their stroke. We both know you need someone there.” Another heavy silence engulfed the room. “And I suppose that has to be me.” Brandon’s voice was softer now. Apparently Lyle’s silence had won his side of the argument.

  Lyle leaned back in his hospital bed, closing his eyes. Suddenly he looked very frail.

  �
�I’ll move in with you for a while and see if I can sublet my apartment, but I have to keep my Saturday job, Dad.”

  “I can help on Saturdays,” Holly added. “But not this Saturday of course.”

  Lyle nodded. “The health fair.”

  Brandon shook his head. “We need to cancel that.”

  “Absolutely not.” Lyle pushed a button on his bed, trying to sit up straighter. “Holly, Julie, and I began planning this more than a year ago. The work has been nonstop the last few months.”

  “And look where that landed you,” Brandon said. “There will be time again for work. For now, I need you to focus on getting better.”

  “He’s right.” Holly folded Lyle’s hand into hers. “You focus on getting better, and don’t think about the health fair again. Okay?”

  Joshua bent and picked up another cob of feed corn and dropped it into the harvest bag strapped to him. Boredom and frustration gnawed at him. After rushing around all morning, he had come home empty handed and had finished the chick habitats. Then the chicken supplier called and said it would be several more hours before the delivery person would arrive with the babies. He couldn’t take just sitting around at home, so here he was in the neighbors’ cornfield, punishing himself apparently. The neighbors were generous to allow his family to glean their harvested fields, picking up the remaining feed corn, but sometimes he wished they would be stingy.

  He could not believe that was the pharmacy where Holly worked. Had she told him and he’d simply forgotten? He didn’t think so. She never wanted to talk about work, but he’d been awed by her quirky, fun-loving confidence—an odd kind of spunk that distinguished her from the other girls. Holly seemed disinterested in attracting a guy but very interested in Ivy and her enjoying the outings. He chuckled. He’d never seen a girl so determined when it came to winning, whether on a team or playing a one-on-one game like horseshoes, badminton, or even ice-skating or racing horses.

  Drop it. Just think about something else, anything other than Holly.

  He ambled down the harvested rows, picking up dried ears of corn that had been left behind. The midafternoon sun warmed his back more than what was comfortable, and the smell of tilled earth hung in the air. The already-reaped rows of corn provided no shade as he worked.