“Oh no…” Delia whispered barely audibly to herself when she spotted the young, handsome pharmacist. “Where did the lady go who was standing at this window just a moment ago?”
She looked around nervously, hoping the other pharmacist would return so that by the time it was her turn, the elderly lady would be serving customers again. But when the people ahead of her were gone, panic flooded her.
How was she supposed to pick up her medication if she had to hand over the prescription that revealed all her horrors to a handsome man? And such a terrible secret—one she had fought so hard to keep hidden from the world?
Not even her tried-and-true trick would work now: pretending the vaginal suppositories were for her mom, the antifungal nail treatment for her dad, and the anti-diarrheal medicine for her aunt.
“How can I help you?” the man asked warmly, which only made things worse.
If only he had had a squeaky, wheezy, or otherwise funny voice that would have stripped him of some of his charm! Maybe then she could have more easily handed him the slip of paper that branded her.
“Is everything okay?” the pharmacist asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
Thoughts raced wildly through Delia’s mind. She would find another pharmacy—even if it meant traveling to a town farther away. Or maybe she’d try again tomorrow, hoping to catch the old lady at the counter. Honestly, any solution would be better than this. There was no way she could pick up her meds from a young, good-looking guy. Absolutely not. If she couldn’t find a reliable pharmacy nearby, she’d travel a hundred kilometers if she had to. Once a month—it was manageable. Even though she wasn’t even allowed to drive. My God! How do others manage this?
“Are you feeling unwell?” the man asked again, now with real concern.
Delia looked him in the eye, her mouth trembling on the verge of tears. She would have loved to blame him for this whole situation, for sneaking in and replacing the old lady behind the counter.
Finally, with a deep, desperate sigh, she turned on her heel and rushed out of the pharmacy.
“Well? Did you manage?”
Delia lowered her gaze. She didn’t dare look at Hanna.
“What stopped you this time?” her friend asked mockingly.
“He looked too good.”
“What?” Hanna burst out, genuinely outraged.
“You heard me. You would have walked out too if you were in my place.”
“Not a chance,” Hanna snapped. “Especially after so many failed attempts. First it’s a former high school classmate, then it’s your coworker’s brother, then you won’t go because you think a stuck-up bitch is behind the counter who’ll hand you your medicine with a smug smile. And now you’re telling me he was too good-looking? Are you out of your mind?”
“Would you like to confess to a handsome guy that you have epilepsy?”
“Confess? You think you have to confess anything to a pharmacist? Their job is to hand you your meds. They couldn’t care less beyond that.”
“Easy for you to say,” Delia said, her eyes filling with tears. “You don’t have a disease that immediately makes people picture a foaming, convulsing wreck, wetting themselves on the floor.”
Hanna fell silent for a moment. True, before Delia had her brain surgery, she hadn’t known anyone with epilepsy. She too had thought that the condition always came with terrifying seizures. She would have been scared to befriend someone struggling with it.
But Delia’s epilepsy didn’t bother her. She had seen her friend stare blankly into the distance twice, something Delia later explained had been a seizure. Hanna was no longer afraid of the illness itself—but she was still terrified of sudden loss of consciousness. What would she do if that happened?
“Okay,” Hanna gave in. “I admit it, you’re right. I only ever had nightmare images in my head too.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Delia whispered.
“Let’s make a deal,” Hanna said firmly. “You’ll teach me how to handle any kind of seizure so I won’t be so scared anymore, and I’ll go with you every month to pick up your medication. If necessary, I’ll take care of the stuck-up ones, and if the guy’s hot, I’ll flirt with him to distract him from you.”