Sarasota Dreams (13 page)

Grandma made a clucking sound with her tongue, and Grandpa chuckled. “Good girl. It’s harder to find one when you’re looking,” he said.

“She’s not getting younger, Joseph.”

He nodded. “I think she knows that. How much longer before supper’s ready? I’m starving.”

“Not much longer,” Mary replied. “The ham and sweet potatoes are ready. As soon as the rolls are done, we can eat.”

“In that case, I’ll go do some weeding. Let me know when it’s time to sit down at the table.”

Silence fell between Mary and Grandma after Grandpa left the kitchen. Mary sometimes wondered why Grandpa came home acting as though he might starve to death after working in a restaurant all day. Even though he was surrounded by food, Mary or Shelley sometimes had to remind him to eat lunch. He worked as hard as his employees did, so Mary was more than happy to do what she could to help out at home.

After the rolls came out of the oven, Grandma pointed to the door. “Go let your grandfather know it’s time to wash up for supper. Then you can help me put everything on the table.”

Mary’s skirt swished as she turned around and headed for the back door. She shielded her eyes as she stepped outside on the western side of the house.

Grandpa glanced up. “Supper ready?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’ll be on the table in a few minutes.”

Grandpa nodded. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Mary went back inside to help Grandma finish the meal preparation. She sliced the maple-citrus-glazed ham and set it on the table then slid the hot, buttery rolls into the napkin-lined basket. Grandpa liked buttermilk with dinner, so she poured him a glass and set it at the head of the table. Grandma placed a pot holder on the table before putting the dish of sweet potatoes on top of it. The aromas blended and would have had Mary’s taste buds on high alert if her stomach wasn’t so off-kilter after the afternoon with Abe and the conversation between her grandparents.

“Get the lemonade,” Grandma ordered. “I’ll get the glasses.”

By the time the women had everything laid out, Grandpa appeared. “Have a seat, ladies.”

They sat and bowed their heads for the blessing. Mary held her breath as he thanked the Lord for the beautiful day and the food they were blessed with, hoping he wouldn’t mention Abe. When he finished with “Amen,” she let the air out of her lungs. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her. He winked, and she managed a slight grin in return.

Abe stared at the sandwich on the table. He was getting sick of eating the same old thing every night for supper, but he felt guilty for his dissatisfaction because he never had to go hungry. Although he knew how to prepare a meal, it seemed pointless to go to so much trouble for only one person.

After he and his brothers grew up, his mother mentioned the same thing about cooking for two. “But if I don’t prepare a meal for your father, he might wither up and die, then I’d have only myself to cook for.”

Abe felt an emptiness in his heart as he longed for the days when his whole family was in the house, eating a lavish dinner prepared by his mother’s loving hands. He took a bite of his sandwich and slowly chewed before swallowing and repeating until it was gone.

He carried his plate to the sink, washed it, dried it, and put it away. Next time he went into town, he needed to get something from Penner’s to go.

It was still daylight out as he stepped onto the front porch and deeply inhaled the fresh air. The workers had gone home for the day, so here he was, in the middle of his family farm, alone and confused—not only by the way Mary Penner was acting but by how he felt about her. As much as he liked her, he should have been happy to kiss her, but when she ordered him to do it, he was startled.

Then when they finally did kiss, it was even better than he’d expected. He still wondered why Mary had changed toward him so abruptly.

The sound of an automobile turning onto the shell driveway caught his attention, and he turned in the direction of the main road. A bright orange car came barreling toward him. The only person he knew with a car that color was Jeremiah Yoder. Tension rose from his core and extended throughout his entire body. Why would Jeremiah be coming all the way out here?

Abe stepped down off the porch and into the yard. He placed his hands on his hips and glared as the automobile drew closer. He could see Jeremiah’s face had a look of determination.

The orange car came to a skidding halt about twenty feet from where Abe stood, and Jeremiah got out. “Hey, Abe. Got a few minutes to chat with an old friend?”

“What are you doing here, Jeremiah?” Abe had to hold back the anger that brewed in his chest.

Jeremiah lifted his hands in surrender. “Hey, man, I just wanted to make amends. I feel bad about what I said in town earlier.”

“You do?” This didn’t sound like the Jeremiah of late. Abe couldn’t help but be suspicious.

“Yep. I was being a class-A jerk, and I’m sorry.”

Abe’s faith ran deep, and he knew that when a man was sincerely sorry for what he did wrong, he needed to be forgiven. But it wasn’t always easy.

“Want some coffee?” Abe asked.

“Nah, I can’t drink coffee late in the day or I’ll be up all night.”

Abe smiled. “Based on what I’ve heard, being up all night is normal for you these days.”

“Yeah, afraid so. But I’m getting older, ya know?”

“I do know. So you’ve apologized, and you’re forgiven.” Abe took a step back, hoping Jeremiah would get back into his bright orange car and leave.

“I’d still like to talk”—Jeremiah glanced around—“unless there’s something else going on, and you can’t.”

“Nothing else is going on.”

Jeremiah continued standing in the same spot, kicking at the sandy soil beneath his feet, looking uncomfortable while Abe watched and waited. Something was up, and Abe couldn’t tell if it was good, bad, or neutral.

“What do you want, Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah shrugged and shook his head but didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked everywhere but at Abe. Finally Abe decided someone needed to speak up, so he gestured toward the house. “Do you wanna come inside?”

With a nod, Jeremiah took a step toward the house. Abe led the way in silence, wondering all the way what was so important for Jeremiah to have to talk now.

“Have a seat at the kitchen table,” Abe said. “I would offer you something besides coffee, but since I live here alone, I don’t generally keep much extra food lying around.”

“I didn’t come here to eat.” Jeremiah pulled out a chair and glanced around before sitting. “This place hasn’t changed a bit since we were kids, except for a few missing decorations.”

“There’s no reason for it to change. I put the decorations away, but I still have them.”

“True, there isn’t a reason for change.” Jeremiah let out a nervous laugh. “But some people like change just for the sake of something different.”

“Not me.”

“I realize that, and it’s the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

Abe sat down and leaned back in his chair, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Since he had no idea what Jeremiah wanted to talk about, he didn’t know of any questions to ask.

“This isn’t easy for me, Abe, so bear with me.”

“I’m listening.”

“You know I left the church when I realized how much fun I could have.” He cleared his throat. “Or how much fun I thought I could have.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes upward and looked around the room before settling his attention back on Abe. “It’s really strange how enticing the world can be, but when you get smack-dab in the middle of it, there’s something not right. It doesn’t feel as good as it looks.”

“What happened, Jeremiah?”

“Nothing really happened. It’s just that I was seeing this girl. Amy. She’s very cute and funny and a little bit wild. I knew that, and I was okay with it at first. But the more I got to know her, the more I realized how lost she was. Amy lives for the moment and had the philosophy that if it feels good, it’s okay.”

Abe never expected to have this kind of conversation with Jeremiah. He could see the man was troubled, so he nodded his understanding and encouragement to continue.

“Amy’s a sweet girl but very misguided. She’s been around the block a few times, ya know?”

Abe tilted his head. “Around the block?”

Jeremiah chuckled. “She’s been with other men. At first I tried to be cool with it, but as we got deeper into our relationship, I realized how much it bothered me.”

“Ya, that would bother most men, I think.”

“Not all men, but in spite of the fact that I left the church, my Mennonite roots run deep. I couldn’t deal with Amy’s wild ways anymore, so I broke it off with her.”

“I’m sure that’s a very good idea.”

Jeremiah tilted his head and gave Abe an odd look. “Don’t you worry about that with Mary?”

“Why should I worry about Mary?”

“Well …” Jeremiah lifted his hands and let them fall on the table. “You know where she came from, and chances are—”

Abe shot up from his chair. “Don’t you ever say another word about Mary’s past. She’s a good Mennonite girl.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just thinking there might be some things you don’t know about her. Remember when we first met her? There was some talk about her mother and where she came from and all.”

“What happened to Mary was out of her control. She was fourteen when she came here, and since I’ve known her, she hasn’t done anything wrong.” Abe’s jaw tensed, and he sat back down to try to regain control of his emotions. “Mary is a very sweet woman who is committed to the Lord.”

Jeremiah closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He was obviously a very frustrated man.

“I’m still not sure why you came here, Jeremiah,” Abe said. “Did you want advice about Amy or to deliver some lies about Mary?”

“Neither.”

“Then why are you here?” Abe asked.

Jeremiah sucked in a breath, blew it out, then leveled Abe with a look of determination. “Do you think there’s any chance I can come back to the church?”

T
he next day Mary’s nerves were on edge. Each time she heard the bell on the restaurant door, she jumped.

“Expecting someone?” Shelley asked.

“Abe.”

Shelley smiled. “I thought so.”

“Something must have come up, or he would have been here by now.”

“Lunch isn’t over yet. Maybe he had some things to do on the farm.”

“I’m sure.” Another customer walked in and sat down in Mary’s section. “At least we’re busy today. All these customers are keeping my mind off him.”

Shelley laughed. “Who are you trying to fool, Mary? A bomb could explode in the room, and you’d still be thinking about Abe.”

Without a response, Mary turned toward her customers. Shelley was right. Nothing would get her mind off Abe—not after that kiss that still had her lips tingling.

After the lunch crowd dwindled, Grandpa approached Mary and handed her the phone. “It’s for you,” he said.

She answered it with a tentative, “Hello?”

“Is this the Mary Penner who lived in Cincinnati?” The man’s voice was barely audible, but it had a familiar tone to it.

Mary’s legs nearly gave out, so she lowered herself into the nearest chair. “Who is this?”

The man let out a sinister laugh. “You’re good at hiding. It took some work to find you.”

“Tell me who you are, or I’m hanging up,” Mary demanded.

She heard him laughing as the call disconnected. Whoever that was didn’t sound nice at all.

Shelley approached before she had a chance to stand back up. “You okay, Mary?”

Mary blinked and nodded. “That was the strangest phone call. Some man asked me if I was the Mary Penner who lived in Cincinnati, but he didn’t tell me who he was or why he wanted to know.”

“That truly is strange. Let me know if you need something. I need to check on my customers.”

“Thanks.” Mary stood and crossed the restaurant to hand the phone back to Grandpa, who was busy filling some late lunch orders. She was glad he didn’t have time to talk to her, or he would have asked questions about the call.

At about three thirty, Grandpa walked up and put his arm around her. “Why don’t you run on home and tend to the garden so I don’t have to?”

Grandpa loved his garden, so she suspected he was trying to help get her mind off Abe. She started to say she could stay a little longer, but instead she offered a brief nod. She untied her apron and hung it on the rack.

She was almost to the door when she heard Grandpa call out to her. “Don’t rush things, Granddaughter. The Lord knows what’s on your heart, and He’ll make everything all right.”

Mary forced a smile. “Yes, I know that.”

“Oh, here, take this to your grandmother,” he said as he pulled the last of the cake from the shelf. “I told her you’d bring home whatever dessert was left.”

She took the cake, covered it, and went out the back door. After carefully positioning the cake in the basket of her three-wheeler, she hopped on and pedaled home.

Grandma wasn’t in the kitchen, so Mary set the cake on the counter and opened the oven door. It was hot, but nothing was in there.
Strange
.