Prescriptions and Promises

by Jessica Matthews

  In an instant, she remembered how she’d chided him for his cigarette habit. The very next day, he’d replaced his Marlboros with candy. All because she’d asked.

  The memory brought tears to her eyes.

  Shaking off her melancholy, she drew a bracing breath, then thumbed through the card files. Her uncle’s system was archaic and a far cry from the computerized system of the hospital, but it worked.

  Luke’s original prescription for phenobarbital was still current, so she typed a new label and subtracted one of the two remaining refills. Next, she located the stock bottle on the shelf and counted out the correct number of tablets.

  Once she’d finished she checked, double-checked, then finally triple-checked her work, before handing the small package to Mary Beth. If her friend thought it took longer than usual, she didn’t comment.

  ‘I see Luke has been on this for about six months,’ Jenny commented.

  Mary Beth nodded, ruffling her son’s hair. ‘Yes. He developed seizures at the time, although we still don’t know why. As long as the phenobarbital controls them, we’re happy.’

  ‘Can we go, Mom?’ Luke asked with a plaintive note to his voice. ‘I’m gonna miss baseball practice.’

  Jenny smiled at the eight-year-old boy as she rang up their purchase. ‘Is he your only child?’

  ‘Annie’s three and Miranda’s twelve. My husband manages the grocery store and I do the bookkeeping.’ Mary Beth counted out her money. ‘I don’t have to tell you how much we’ll miss having your pharmacy in town. Remember when Earl served fountain drinks? Root beer floats were our specialty.’

  Jenny thought of the solid walnut counter with its ornate hand-carved designs and bar stools that spun fast enough to compete with the rides at the county fair. She’d seen it just the other day under a protective tarp in her uncle’s garage.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said fondly. ‘It was a shame he did away with the snack business, but now I can understand why. Between the ice cream and soda pop that we either ate or spilled, I’m sure he lost more money than he made.’

  ‘You were the one who pigged out on maraschino cherries,’ Mary Beth accused with a smile. ‘Those don’t come cheap.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘Yeah, but we had a great time. We should have sold the recipes for some of our creations to Dairy Queen. We made Blizzards and Smoothies before they ever thought of them.’

  Luke tugged on his mother’s arm again. ‘Mom. I’m late.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ she said. ‘One more minute and I’ll be done.’

  He rolled his eyes, drooped his shoulders and shifted his weight as she asked Jenny another question. ‘What will I need to do when Luke needs another refill?’

  ‘I’m working on transferring the scripts to a pharmacy in Hays,’ Jenny said apologetically, referring to the closest town. ‘I know it won’t be convenient…’

  ‘We go quite often since my husband has family there, so I don’t see a problem. You’re the one I feel sorry for.’

  ‘Me?’ Jenny was incredulous. ‘Why?’

  Mary Beth gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘After losing your uncle, I can imagine how much fun you’ve had dealing with your aunt. Although I steered clear of her when we were kids, I doubt if her personality changed for the better after she moved away.’

  Jenny grinned. ‘It hasn’t.’

  ‘Well, hang in there and don’t let her push you around. Even if you don’t stay in town, please, keep in touch.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Jenny said.

  Mary Beth and her son left just as another customer came in. As if word of the drug store closing had finally leaked out, a slow but steady stream of customers dropped in with requests for refills. Each one gave her an uneasy moment, but she dug in her mental heels and refused to let her old fears overtake her. She would take her time and do things right, she thought firmly. As she counted out an elderly man’s lipid-lowering medication, she had a realization so startling that it made her hand freeze in mid-air.

  She only had to answer to herself; no one would look over her shoulder and remind her to hurry along. In that instant, the black cloud hanging over her head seemed to disappear and her confidence—although still somewhat shaky—seemed to find a more solid footing.

  Five o’clock arrived and Jenny gratefully flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED. In spite of her reservations over filling in for Herb, she mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done. Her afternoon had been rather invigorating—her encounter with Noah notwithstanding—and she’d been pleasantly surprised that everything had run so smoothly. No one had complained about how slowly she’d worked either. Maybe she could make it through the next few days after all.

  She reached to turn the deadbolt lock just as a young mother with a tow-headed toddler perched on her hip rushed to the glass door. As the woman caught sight of the CLOSED sign, her hopeful expression became downcast and her shoulders drooped with disappointment.

  Jenny couldn’t refuse her and sleep that night, so she let her inside.

  ‘I know it’s late, but can you fill this for me?’ The woman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, spoke over her daughter’s screams. Her shorts and shirt were threadbare but clean; her long blonde hair hung limp and lifeless. The youngster’s clothes appeared equally worn, but a halo of tangled white-blonde curls surrounded her head.

  ‘Yes, I can.’ Jenny took the small prescription sheet from her latest customer. Instantly, she recognized the handwriting as Dr Kimball’s, and deciphered the scrawl as an antibiotic.

  ‘Daisy isn’t feeling too well?’ she asked, glancing at the child’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face.

  Her mother hoisted her higher on her hip. ‘Another ear infection. She needs surgery to put those tubes in her ears, but we don’t have the money right now. Randy—he’s my husband—lost his job and we don’t have insurance. We’ve applied for a medical card, but it takes a while to get one. After that, we’ll get her fixed up.’

  Jenny carefully reconstituted the powdered form of the antibiotic. It suddenly struck her how easily she’d stepped into her former role after a single afternoon. For a few seconds she toyed with the notion of taking over for Herb until she found a permanent replacement, but the idea didn’t last. It might solve one problem, but it wouldn’t alleviate the more pressing financial crunch her aunt had imposed.

  Her job complete, she handed over the bottle. ‘You can leave this at room temperature, Mrs Weir, but be sure to shake it well before you give her any. Also, Daisy gets one teaspoon twice a day for ten days. Don’t stop, even if she feels better before then. Any questions?’

  Mrs Weir shook her head. ‘She’s been on this before.’

  ‘Good.’ Jenny punched the numbers into the cash register. ‘That will be twenty-seven ninety-five.’

  The woman audibly inhaled and her face turned pale. ‘Are you sure? It only cost me seven dollars last time I bought it.’

  Jenny had covered for a retail pharmacist on occasion and had often heard customers complaining about high costs. Few antibiotics, however, sold for the price Mrs Weir had quoted. ‘Newer medicines are rather expensive.’

  As soon as her explanation left her mouth, Noah’s comment echoed in her brain. Your uncle was a generous man. A suspicion suddenly took root as she considered the air of poverty clinging to the woman and child. ‘If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll double-check.’

  She disappeared behind the prescription counter and flipped through the account ledger until she found the page she wanted. As near as she could tell from past entries, he’d discounted nearly all of the meds for this family on a regular basis.

  No wonder the pharmacy’s finances were stretched to the point of breaking. If he subsidized everyone who experienced a cash-flow problem, it was nothing short of miraculous how he’d accumulated the fifteen thousand dollars in his saving account. Vowing to study his books in more detail, she returned to the checkout counter and found Mrs Weir crooning softly to her whimpering daughter.
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br />   ‘I’m sorry Daisy’s so cranky, but when her ears hurt…’

  Jenny smiled. ‘I understand. As for the medicine, I misread the price. There was a smudge on the label,’ she fibbed. ‘Your bill today is seven dollars, even.’

  ‘Oh, good.’ Her relief took several worry lines off her face. ‘I just couldn’t imagine the price going up that much in a few weeks.’

  Mrs Weir carefully counted out the five crumpled greenbacks and a handful of change from her pocket, sighing in relief after she produced the right amount for her purchase. Obviously, the woman had raided her cookie jar, coat pockets, and the sofa cushions in order to gather seven dollars.

  As soon as Mrs Weir and Daisy left, Jenny sank onto a chair to think. As much as she’d tried to follow Tyler’s directive to concern herself with the bottom line, she couldn’t. She’d entered the medical field because of a desire to help people. Even though she’d changed professions, she couldn’t turn her back on the Mrs Weirs of the world. Refusing a sick child his medicine because of a parent’s inability to pay rubbed against the grain of her conscience.

  Apparently, her uncle had suffered from the same moral dilemma, which accounted for the reason his business had fallen into dire straits.

  At the same time, she wondered what Mrs Weir would do if she had to fill her scripts in Hays, where no one knew her or worried if she’d have enough money left over to feed her family.

  The prospect weighed heavily on her. Although she didn’t appreciate Noah Kimball’s tactics, she grudgingly admired him for fighting his patients’ battles.

  Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

  Unfortunately, operating the pharmacy, even on a short-term basis, required a courage she didn’t possess. She might have dispensed meds today without incident, but what about tomorrow? The next day, or the day after?

  If she accepted the challenge Noah had thrown before her, how would she appease her aunt? How could she meet her commitment to Susan?

  ‘Focus on what you can do,’ she scolded herself aloud as she shut off all the lights, except for the one over her uncle’s scarred oak desk. She sat down and reached for her day planner, flipping to the telephone directory. With a little bit of luck and a lot of inspiration, she’d figure out what that would be before she left for Grand Junction on Saturday.

  On Monday afternoon, Noah returned from his luncheon Rotary Club meeting with his previously good spirits somewhat dampened. He’d hoped for the speculation surrounding the Ruscoe Pharmacy to die a natural death after Jennifer had packed up and left town on Saturday, but it hadn’t. The men had talked of nothing else until their president had finally called the group to order.

  While the news of Earl’s financial hard times had been surprising to everyone, Noah didn’t believe the situation had progressed to an unsalvageable stage. In time and with proper management, Earl’s legacy could once again have become profitable.

  Unfortunately, time had run out, which meant that he had to step in. He was used to picking up the pieces that others—his father, his former fiancée—had left behind.

  Toward the end of last week, he’d called every pharmaceutical rep he knew—and some he didn’t—hoping to entice them into considering a business opportunity in Springwater. While none had seemed interested in the venture for themselves, they’d promised to spread the word.

  Satisfied by his efforts to set prospective change in motion, something about Jennifer’s career switch still nagged at him. Earl had related countless stories of how Jennifer had overcome difficulties to achieve her goals. She’d worked hard and earned a basketball scholarship. She’d struggled with her chemistry classes, but hadn’t given up because she’d needed those for her pharmacy degree. It seemed odd for her to have given up the profession she’d supposedly held dear.

  However, given that as her history, he could understand why her pride had prevented her from sharing the details of her failure with her uncle. He didn’t condone her decision, but at least he understood her motives.

  However, he wasn’t as quick to forgive her blatant refusal to follow through on her own promise to her dying relative. It reminded him of too many other empty pledges he’d heard in his lifetime.

  His father would promise anything to avoid conflict at any given moment. Once Noah had learned this—and it hadn’t taken too many years—he’d sworn to be different when he grew up. As he’d matured into adolescence, he’d worked hard to become a man of his word, spurred on by the fear of living up to his father’s reputation and being labelled as the proverbial chip off the old block.

  As an adult, the experience of being left at the altar to deal with three hundred wedding guests and half as many gifts had sealed his hatred of broken promises.

  The big question in his mind now was why she hadn’t applied her tenacity to Earl’s business. Why had she given up so easily?

  The obvious answer was that she didn’t care. However, he’d never know her real reasons because she’d packed her bags and left town without any forwarding address. With luck, it wouldn’t be long before someone else recognized the potential gold mine and capitalized on it.

  In the meantime, he wanted to put the entire incident—including his inopportune flashbacks of holding Jennifer in his arms whenever he saw a tall, copper-haired woman with shapely legs—behind him and concentrate on the future.

  He strode into his clinic via the private staff entrance in the rear of the building and found his three employees—Della Sutton, his office manager, Tanya Carmichael, the receptionist, and Karen Carson, his nurse—huddled together in Tanya’s cubicle.

  ‘Having a powwow?’ he asked as he stood in the doorway, curious about their intense discussion.

  Della looked up at him, her brown eyes shining with undisguised excitement. A petite dishwater-blonde in her mid-fifties, she’d been a godsend ever since he’d moved to Springwater nearly two years ago.

  ‘It’s about time you got back from lunch,’ she declared.

  ‘My meeting ran long,’ he said. ‘I used to think women cornered the market on gossip, but after today I’ve changed my mind. What’s wrong?’

  She waved her hand, as if dismissing his question. ‘We’re dying to know what’s happening over at Ruscoe’s Pharmacy.’

  He groaned. ‘Oh, please. Not you, too.’

  Karen, twenty-five and wearing a sparkling gold wedding band, joined in. ‘Of course everyone wants to talk about the drug store. It’s big news.’

  He frowned. ‘I haven’t heard anything today that I would consider as “big” news. Is someone else taking over?’ It would be great if his efforts to attract another owner had paid off so quickly.

  ‘Not that we know of. We think Jenny’s not going out of business after all,’ Karen reported importantly.

  He shook his head. ‘Wishful thinking, ladies. Anyone who pins his hopes on Jennifer is setting himself up for disappointment. Besides, what makes you think she’s changed her mind?’

  Tanya, a nineteen-year-old blonde who’d started working for him right after she’d graduated from high school the previous year, stared up at him from her chair behind the reception desk. Her wide eyes gleamed with excitement.

  ‘The “Going Out of Business” sign is down. In fact, it was gone on Saturday morning.’

  ‘So it fell down,’ he said, being practical.

  ‘I thought so, too, at first,’ Tanya said. ‘Then I noticed something odd. If her sign had fallen, it would have been on the floor by the window. The poster wasn’t there. Totally disappeared. Like someone had carried it away.’ She shivered. ‘It reminds me of the book I just finished, Midnight is for Murder. The detective discovered the witness had—’

  ‘Let’s not get melodramatic,’ he interrupted. Tanya’s passion for mystery novels turned every unusual event into a plot to be solved. ‘You can’t believe that life will revert back to normal because a sign is missing. I’m sure there’s a simple, logical explanation.’

  Karen broke in. ‘It’s no
t just the sign. My dad was the officer on patrol Wednesday night. He was worried over the light being on so late when it normally isn’t. With the place having drugs and all, the officers always keep close tabs on that particular block. Anyway, Jenny stayed at the store until two in the morning.’

  ‘Ladies, ladies,’ he said in a long-suffering tone. ‘You’re reading more into this than you should. I’m sure Jennifer had a lot to do. Pharmaceuticals to return, paperwork to complete, that sort of thing.’

  Della stood with her hands planted on her hips. ‘Then how do you explain her trips to the bank both on Thursday and Friday? The trips where she spent several hours with Tom Rigby, the loan officer?’

  Noah grinned at how reverently Della spoke Tom’s name. ‘Didn’t he spill all the details during your date Friday night?’ After being widowed three years ago, Della had started seeing Tom on a regular basis.

  Della stuck her nose in the air. ‘I’ll have you know, Tom won’t betray a confidence. All he said was that they were discussing business.’

  ‘Well, then—’ Noah began.

  The door burst open and Harriet Winkler crossed the threshold. Although the sixty-eight-year-old lady walked with a cane, her steps were brisk. She wore a casual cotton dress and her trade-mark straw hat had purple silk flowers attached to the headband.

  ‘You’ll never guess what I just saw,’ she announced.

  ‘What?’ Noah’s three employees echoed.

  Harriet preened with her information, the flowers on her head quivering from excitement. A retired teacher and current owner of Gently Read Books, she knew more about the locals than anyone else in town.

  She ambled to the receptionist’s window and leaned through the opening. ‘A moving van pulled up in front of Earl’s house two hours ago. His niece is carrying boxes inside. What do you make of that?’

  Noah rolled his eyes, wondering if everyone had lost their grip on reality. Either that, or he’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. ‘A person can’t pack without boxes. They have to get inside somehow.’

  Harriet pursed her mouth, making her wrinkled face resemble a prune. ‘I’ve seen enough people moving in my day to know one thing. If a person needs a dolly to move an empty box, then I’ll eat my hat. Nope.’ She shook her head for emphasis. ‘Little Jenny Ruscoe is moving in. From the things I saw her unload, she’s staying for some time.’