“She went back to town with one of the cops,” Lindsay says. “She asked me to check up on Grandpa. I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I’d look in.”
Everyone has something to say, and I’m feeling claustrophobic and panicked. Grandpa has to pull through. He has to. I need him to forgive me. Need his wisdom and his love.
“I have it.” Sammie shoves me and pushes a syringe and several vials of Narcan at me. “It’s over four years old, but it should work.”
“You can’t just give him a shot of who knows what?” Lindsay shouts, trying to take it from me. “You don’t even know what’s wrong with him.”
“I don’t have time to argue.” I push her back, and she staggers into Nash’s arms.
“Hey, wait a second,” my brother growls. “How do we know you’re not poisoning him?”
“Because, idiots. I know what an overdose looks like.” Sammie’s voice rises above the melee. “I’ve administered Narcan many times.”
“So have I.” I draw the drug into the syringe while Sammie ties a tourniquet around Grandpa’s arm.
“Let them do their jobs.” Jolene, always the authoritative voice, corrals them back from the bedside. “The paramedics might have difficulty reaching us because of the snow.”
There’s stunned silence punctuated by Lindsay’s gasps and Macy and Riley’s sobs after I inject the full dose. My heart refuses to beat, and I’m holding my breath.
I know I should continue CPR, but somehow, I’m paralyzed, waiting for a miracle. Sammie takes over, pushing on Grandpa’s chest, and I remember to breathe.
I’m about to seal my mouth against Grandpa’s when he starts moving slowly, groaning and waking up.
“He’s going to be okay,” Macy squeals and hugs Susanna and Riley.
Sammie tempers their joy. “He’s alive, yes, but he needs to be in the hospital. He might go through sudden withdrawal which could result in cardiac arrest.”
“What are we waiting for? Bundle him up,” Dad says.
“We should call the police,” Susanna says. “Erica is supposed to take care of him. Plus, she knows his medical history.”
“She had him on morphine.” I help my father move my grandpa along with his IV bag. “She skipped a dose, so I gave him a half dose right before midnight.”
“You gave him morphine?” Lindsay jabs her finger my direction accusingly. “What if you gave him too much?”
“He was okay when the kids came home,” I counter. “I don’t have time for this. Dad, it might be cold out there. We need to bundle him up good.”
“I’m don’t want to go,” Grandpa cries, scratching himself all over. “Leave me alone.”
“He’s withdrawing,” Sammie says. “Let me get that Santa outfit with the Velcro to cover him up.”
“I’ll get a down comforter.” Jolene springs into action. “We have to bundle him up.”
“What about the paramedics?” Nash asks Riley who’s on the phone. “Did you get through?”
“They said to hold on, but all the roads are full of snow,” she replies. “They’re trying to get it cleared. They said to stay on the line. Is he breathing?”
“Yes, he’s breathing and complaining,” I answer while helping him get dressed.
“Have you seen the driveway?” Damon comes running back. “We’re snowed in. I could barely get off the porch. The snow is piled halfway to the roofline.”
“There’s no way I can get the truck out,” Dad groans, wringing his hands. “Can’t the snowplows come?”
“It’s Christmas, it’ll take too long to roust them,” Damon says.
“How about the horses and the sleigh?” Dad suggests.
“The sleighs are both buried in the snow,” Nash says. “We had to leave them and walk back.”
