The Christmas Remedy Read online

  The disaster of this health fair, Lyle’s stroke, and the looming concerns about Greene’s ability to stay open long term—it was all too much.

  How could she possibly fix it all?

  Joshua looked out the window of the car as the driver took him by Raysburg Field, going toward the entry to the parking lot. The scene on the field made little sense. If his Mamm was right that the health fair had been called off, why was he seeing a fire truck, EMTs, vendors of all types, and a huge white tent with the sign Free Health Screening?

  And yet almost no one was here.

  He’d come to attend the diabetes class—if his Mamm was wrong and the event was still taking place. If it wasn’t, he’d go to Greene’s and speak to whoever was working today about Mamm’s next steps in managing her diabetes. Either way he would learn more about his Mamm’s diagnosis, and perhaps he would have an opportunity to talk to a particularly attractive and fascinating pharmacy tech. Her rejection should have settled the matter, and her view that her work was more important than any relationship should have confirmed the matter. Yet here he was, hoping for a good reason to strike up another conversation with her.

  What was it about her anyway?

  He wasn’t sure, but in the five days since they’d talked, he had realized he liked her strong opinions. And was it so very wrong for a woman to keep working outside the home after marriage?

  The driver pulled into a parking space in front of the sidewalk and put the car in Park. “I’d heard about this fair last week and was hopeful I could get a free health screening, but then your mother said it was canceled. By the look of it, maybe I can get that screening today after all.”

  “Ya, maybe so.”

  They got out of the car and walked toward the tents. His driver went to the tent with the free-screening sign in front of it. Joshua spotted the doc lady his Mamm had seen while in the hospital. Well, she wasn’t a real doctor. She was some kind of really educated nurse, but the Amish called her Doc Jules. She was setting up an easel on the lawn under a small canopy. He strode that way. She tried to get a large whiteboard onto the tripod, but she dropped it, sending several markers flying through the air.

  “Need a hand?” he asked.

  Without looking up she pushed her straight, shoulder-length hair from her face. “Please.”

  He picked up the oversize dry-erase board and put it on the easel. She grabbed the markers off the ground. “Thank you. It isn’t that heavy, but it slid right out of my hands anyway.” She put the markers back in the tray and then turned to him. “Oh, uh, Joshua Smucker, right?” Her forehead crinkled as if she was unsure.

  “That’s right. I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “I was hoping someone from your family would come today so we could talk more about your mom’s new diagnosis.”

  “Ya, Holly told me it was important.”

  “It is.” Doc Jules gestured to a group of chairs gathered under the canopy. “Take a seat. My first class is about to start.”

  Joshua sat down. Only one other person was waiting for the class.

  Doc Jules stepped in front of the chairs and smiled. “Good morning! You know the best thing about a small group? We can go really deep into any questions you have.”

  Fifteen minutes later he’d reviewed the proper technique for taking blood sugar and the guidelines for when it should be taken. He’d learned more details about the symptoms of low and high blood sugar and the signs that would indicate Mamm needed to go to the hospital. Doc Jules even handed out a diabetic-friendly recipe packet. The class dispersed, and Joshua stood.

  He scanned the field. He figured he’d spot Holly walking around, checking on things or helping here and there. No luck. He turned back to Doc Jules. “Thanks again for the info. Have you seen Holly?”

  Doc Jules was erasing the whiteboard. She paused and looked across the field. “Not since the class began. But last I saw her, she was going around the side of that tent.”

  Given Holly’s refusal to go out with him, it made a lot more sense for him not to look for her. But apparently he would defy logic and common sense. Only God knew why. “Thanks.” He started to walk off.

  Doc Jules set the dry eraser next to the markers. “Did you need something or have any questions?”

  “No, thank you.” He glanced back at the field with its bountiful tents and sparse people. “But my guess is this is a rough day for Holly.” Was the rumor of the fair being canceled why he was so bent on coming today? An intuition that Holly would need a friend? That would at least make more sense than chasing after her just because he was attracted to her.

  Doc Jules glanced at the wide-open spaces between the tents and vendors. “You’re right.” She smiled. “Go.” One side of her mouth curved upward.

  “Sure thing.” He walked the length of the huge tent, and when he rounded the corner, he saw Holly sitting on the ground, studying something in the distance. He wasn’t sure whether to speak or leave her alone. “Holly…”

  She turned. When their eyes met, she looked away.

  He didn’t need her to tell him that he wasn’t who she wanted to see right now. “Is there someone I can get for you?”

  She wiped her eyes with her apron and sat up straighter. Was she trying to hide that she’d been crying? “No. I’m…fine.” Her voice broke, and he was pretty sure she could use a friend.

  He sat down in the wet grass next to her.

  She swiped her fingers across her cheeks. “You’re going to get dew and grass all over you.”

  “Ya and maybe worse since this field is normally used for horses. Still don’t care.” He leaned in. “You okay?”

  “Ya, of course.” She shrugged.

  Should he pretend to believe her? He could hear a few people walking and talking on the other side of the tent, but it was nowhere near the boisterous sounds of the crowd she’d said would be here. Why had the pharmacist said that the fair was canceled? Should he just ask her, or would that make it worse?

  What am I supposed to say? His thought was really more a prayer, and he immediately knew the answer—the truth, as fully as he knew it, with no assumptions added.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

  “Denki.” She wiped her cheek again. “I’m disappointed more than anything.” She stared at a spot near the horizon. “That’s the back road where traffic converges to get here. I keep sitting here, half expecting a line of buggies to fill the emptiness. Is something else going on in the Amish community today? Have I been so busy I didn’t realize there’s a community work frolic or mission outreach today? People need to be here, for their sakes. The information they’d get today would improve the quality of health for entire families and save lives. Do you know how many people are walking around with undetected issues like high blood pressure, heart disease, or even cancers?”

  Now wasn’t the time to tell her that Brandon had canceled the fair. She needed to talk, and maybe, just maybe, she needed to know his thoughts. Joshua stretched out his legs. “Ya, I hear you, but sometimes health situations are out of our control, no matter how much we wish we could fix them. Like my Mamm developing bad sugars. Like your boss. He’s as educated on these things as they come, but he had a stroke.”

  Holly sniffed. “You can’t be serious, Josh. Are you saying that because some people have a health crisis—like Lyle and his stroke—we should give up and accept whatever comes to all of us, as if other issues aren’t preventable? That’s like saying because some people will develop certain illnesses no matter what they do, none of us should put any effort into being healthy.” She stared at him, and he didn’t see the same girl who’d come to the singles events. That Holly was warm and funny and loved good, competitive games of volleyball, badminton, and horseshoes. She laughed and teased. This girl was driven, haunted by desires he couldn’t understand.


  “People get sick, Holly. Some get better. Some don’t. It’s been that way for thousands and thousands of years.”

  “But the key is using knowledge to bring some sort of control to as many health issues as possible.”

  “But that’s just it. Even when we do everything right within our power, life can hit us upside the head with a compost bucket. It gets messy.” He feigned wiping an imagined mess of compost off his face and arms. Did she have any idea what he was mimicking?

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I take it you know this from experience?”

  “Youngest of thirteen. You bet I do.”

  “I’m the oldest of only three.” Holly plucked a few blades of grass from the ground. “My parents wanted more but never got a chance because they had fertility issues, and the church frowns on getting help. Then my Daed died young. It started as strep. If he’d just taken his medicine, it wouldn’t have developed into sepsis. I wish every day he’d understood the importance of going to the doctor in time, but he was steeped in believing that all he needed to do was put the situation in God’s hands. Understanding an illness can be the difference between life and death, between getting better or not.”

  Joshua couldn’t think of anything to say for several moments. But he believed he understood her—or at least more of her than before. “You want to make sure that other Amish families don’t lose a loved one due to something preventable,” he whispered.

  “Exactly. And I’ve seen that it’s possible. I can’t tell you how badly I wish I’d understood its importance before losing Daed. But now I get the unbelievable blessing of making a difference. One time I convinced a young Amish mother to get a health screening. When she followed my advice, Julie found a suspicious mole and referred her to a dermatologist. I went with her to the appointment. The dermatologist removed the spot, tested it, and it came back as melanoma. That’s a cancer that’s often deadly if it progresses past the skin, but thanks to a minor surgery and some medicine Lyle filled at Greene’s, she’s alive. An entire family exists because she took good advice and made her health a priority.”

  “That’s remarkable, but—”

  “She was one person. One life. What kind of difference could be made if everyone understood? I mean really understood the power that’s in their hands. Every goal I’ve tried to achieve in the past ten years has been focused on bringing knowledge to our people. Then no one showed up today. I thought I’d made some real headway in bringing together modern medicine and the Old Ways.”

  Clearly a fire burned inside her about this, yet how realistic were her goals? “But even the Englisch, with all their education and available information, can’t prevent most illnesses. Just like what happened to your boss. It’s why a lot of people like me and my parents have always had the mind-set to leave our health in God’s hands.”

  She played with the blades of grass as if pondering what she would share and what she would hold back. “Is that how you feel about your chickens? My guess is you follow every piece of information you can get your hands on to keep them healthy. You stay proactive, as Lyle calls it. And after your best efforts to keep them well, if a few show symptoms of illness, you do everything in your power to keep it from spreading, and you try to get the sick ones well.”

  “Well, ya, of course I tend to them. The chickens are my family’s livelihood, and it’s my God-given responsibility to tend to them. But mankind is in God’s hands.”

  The preachers and his family always said the beginning and ending of people’s days were in God’s hands, and he’d always accepted that as the way things should be. Was he wrong, or was she?

  She plucked several blades of grass by the roots. “You’ve just described most Amish. We care for God’s earth and the creatures we make a living with, but we ignore our needs.”

  His chest suddenly felt odd, as if floodwater was lifting his house off its foundation. “I see…I think.” He rubbed his forehead, boggled at the confusion she’d stirred.

  “Josh, that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to understanding the issues facing the Amish.”

  “Like?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve said plenty.”

  “Why?” He really wanted to hear more. Maybe he’d find flaws in what she was saying. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he wasn’t ready for this conversation to end.

  “Because anything else will sound as if I’m attacking you and your beliefs.”

  “I can deal with it, and I’d really like to know.”

  She fidgeted with the blades of grass, saying nothing.

  “Kumm on, Holly.”

  She nodded. “See, I know that once you realized your Mamm needed a doctor and medicine, you’ve done your best, but did you know her diabetes might have been preventable?”

  “What?” His brows knit. “Nee. She was healthy except for the natural issues that come with getting older. She’s been active all her life and isn’t overweight.”

  “I would guess she only saw a doctor when sick.”

  “Well, ya. Sure. That saves time and money.”

  “Diabetes often starts with elevated sugar in the blood that can easily be detected by simple tests during annual checkups. What is now full-blown diabetes might have started a decade ago or more, and her doctor would’ve caught the signs early and recommended a lot of things to prevent the situation from getting worse. If the things he suggested didn’t help, he would’ve had her try other things, including less expensive, less hard-on-the-body medications.”

  “Still, even if she’d done everything your way, maybe nothing would’ve gone any differently. You know that’s true.”

  “I feel that we’re going in circles, Josh. Either you get this or you don’t.”

  “I get it more than ever, but I also have doubts that the issues are as clear-cut as you seem to think.”

  “It boils down to this: We don’t halfway protect children because, for instance, they could be kidnapped anyway. We don’t halfway teach them about God, because, you know, they could become atheists anyway. We do our best, knowing that we may not reap all the good we sow, but we have to try. Why is it okay to ignore this one area, to take it for granted? If an adult like my Daed dies young, we mourn as if God chose to take that person. But maybe it’s our fault for not tending to ourselves as well as we tend to our livestock.”

  Joshua’s cheeks burned. He felt really stupid about now, but he said nothing.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

  “Nee.” He shrugged. “I see value and sound reasoning in what you’re saying. Maybe you could talk with some of the founding members of different districts and get them to back you. Seems as if that would expand your reach. My family is close to numerous families and church leaders who have a lot of influence—Sam Miller, Daniel Yoder, and the Jacob Gingerich clans. All powerful Amish families.” Maybe he was assuming too much. She might already have contact with people in his district and beyond. “You’ve clearly worked hard, and it’s making a difference.”

  Holly took a deep breath, looking a little less upset about today’s disappointment. “If I’m making such a difference, why are there not more people here? Julie thinks that maybe I offended someone who had sway over the Amish communities or that I don’t actually have the bishop’s support as I thought I did.”

  “Well…” Josh hated to be the one to tell her. “I think others were confused as to whether the fair was still on. I was, because I wasn’t sure if what Mamm heard was true.”

  “If what was true?”

  “She heard on the chat line that the younger Greene pharmacist canceled the fair due to Doc Lyle having a stroke.”

  She stared at him, disbelief radiating in her brilliant blue eyes. “He…what?”

  Brandon glanced at the Amish-made rhythm clock on the wall of the pharmacy. Four minutes after eleven. The intricate
ly carved wooden timepiece was a gift to the store from an Amish customer years ago. Brandon had long since turned off the music function. Way back when he worked in Dad’s store as a teen, the thing had driven him crazy, much to the amusement and teasing of his father, who used to sing along with it and make up words based on the task they were doing in the pharmacy. An instant of wistfulness hit him as he looked at the clock. He missed the easygoing relationship he and his dad used to have. Things had been so strained after he went to college and lost Mom. And since he’d stepped into the role of being the caregiver, their relationship was tenser than ever. Would his dad ever be fully himself again?

  He should check on the fair as he had assured his dad he would. He turned to Todd. “It’s a slow day. Mind if I walk down to the field and see how the fair is going?”

  “Sure thing, man.” Todd gestured at the stack of filled prescriptions sitting in their appropriate spot, waiting for customers to pick up the medications. “We’re fully caught up. Slow day is right. I may even be able to get to your dad’s never-ending to-do pile.”

  Thank goodness training Todd had been a breeze, as Brandon had expected. Maybe this would be the only Saturday that Brandon would have to miss his real, paying job. As part of the agreement with his dad, he’d travel back to the city on Saturdays to keep his position at BB Drugs, making it easier for the company to hire him as a pharmacist when he obtained his license.

  The door chimed as he exited the store. He walked down the sidewalk toward the field and almost immediately spotted the white tops of the tents. With this beautiful day Holly should have a good turnout. What a relief he was able to convince his dad to stay home. If he could just keep the stubborn man off his feet long enough to let his body heal…