Sarasota Dreams Read online

  It didn’t take Mary long to clam up and withdraw. Most of the other girls ignored her, and the boys were a little afraid to go near her. Abe wasn’t scared of much, including Mary, so he teased her every chance he got. Her reactions were more exciting than any of the other girls’ would have been, and he found her scrappiness intriguing. As a teenager, he didn’t know any other way of showing how much he liked her.

  Abe shuddered at the thought of what Mary must have seen as a child. When he was at college and learned about the evils of the world, he’d developed a keen sense of the difference between right and wrong. Mary needed a friend, and he resolved to be just that. He’d thought about Mary during college, and when he met other girls, he couldn’t help but compare them to her.

  He’d been stopping by Penner’s Restaurant when he came to town, and each time he saw Mary, he did whatever he could to get her attention. The chemistry between them was powerful—stronger than all the common sense in Sarasota. He couldn’t put together an intelligent sentence the first time she asked for his order. When she laughed at his feeble attempt, he relished the sound of her laughter. He’d had to go home and practice talking to her before going back the next day. This had gone on for more than a week before he was able to formulate a plan.

  Abe had wanted to see Mary when he first came back from college, but there was so much work on the farm, he had wanted to square that away first. He’d been back from college about eight months when he first walked back into Penner’s Restaurant and spotted Mary. He was struck hard by how much she’d matured.

  If things worked out, maybe he and Mary could be more than friends. He’d always thought her differences made her special.

  “Mary? Is that you?” Grandma’s voice echoed through the tiny, sparsely furnished house. She appeared by the main room, her scowl dredging up a sense of shame in Mary. “Where did you go? Your grandpa said you left the restaurant early.”

  “The beach.” Mary was on her way to the bedroom when Grandma stepped in front of her, arms folded, her heavy eyebrows arched. “Oh no, you don’t. I’ll not have you tracking sand in this house after all the time I spent cleaning up today. Back outside.” She jabbed a finger toward the door to drive her point harder.

  Mary did as she was told. During the time she’d been with Grandma and Grandpa, she’d learned the ropes, but today her thoughts had shoved common sense to the back of her mind. She’d managed to shake off most of the sand, but Grandma took the broom to her skirt and loosened the grains that had gotten stuck in the seams and folds.

  “Now go on inside and wash up and help me get dinner on the table. Your grandpa will be back soon, and I don’t want to make him wait.”

  As soon as she stepped back inside, a sweet aroma wafted from Grandma’s kitchen. She turned to her grandmother. “Peanut butter pie?”

  “Ya. That’s for dessert, and only if you do as you’re told.”

  Mary sighed. She was twenty-three, yet she was still treated as a child. She’d offered to move out, but Grandma and Grandpa told her no, not under any circumstances. They said she needed them to look after her until she found a suitable husband to take care of her. Where they expected her to find someone who’d want to marry her was beyond Mary. Besides, after what she’d seen, she knew the only decent man under God’s sun was Grandpa.

  Grandma’s expression remained stoic as she handed Mary a short stack of stoneware plates to set on the table. The two of them worked in silence, giving Mary’s mind another chance to wander. Even after all these years, Mary remembered how her mother hated a quiet room so much she’d turn on a television just to drown out the silence. The quiet didn’t bother Mary all that much, but she did rather enjoy hearing something besides the clatter of dishes, forks, and spoons. But her grandparents went along with the traditional Mennonite ways of not listening to music or watching TV. The only concessions they made were some of the conveniences that came with the house they rented.

  By the time Grandpa walked in the back door, everything was ready. He sat down and without a word reached for her and Grandma’s hands. As he said the blessing for their food, Mary thought about his humble words. “Lord, thank You for giving us this home, this food, and one another. I pray that You continue to keep us on our narrow path until we reach the gates of Your righteousness. Bless our souls, and thank You for this day. Amen.”

  Normally Mary would have been starving and eager to dig into Grandma’s specialty meat loaf. The salt air from the beach should have given her enough of an appetite to eat, but she wasn’t hungry. She’d been busy at the restaurant, and as had happened many times, she’d forgotten to eat lunch.

  “Well, are you going to answer your grandpa or not?”

  Mary blinked and looked back and forth between her grandparents. “I’m sorry, Grandpa, but I missed what you said.”

  A tiny flicker of a smile tweaked his lips. “Abe was looking for you after you left the restaurant. Did he find you?”

  “Yes.” Mary looked down at her plate and swallowed hard before looking back at Grandpa. “He found me at the beach.”

  Grandpa pushed his chair back and tilted his head as he quietly regarded Mary for a few seconds. “Ya, I told him he might find you there.”

  “You never told me you were with Abe,” Grandma said. “I’ve taught you that withholding information is the same as lying.”

  Mary wanted to explain that she’d gone to the beach alone and left alone, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

  “Sarah,” Grandpa said softly. His forehead crinkled as he shook his head at Grandma then turned back to Mary. “How long were you and Abe at the beach?”

  “I was there about an hour. Abe came after I got there, and he left long before I did.”

  “She wasn’t with Abe, Sarah. She wasn’t lying. He went looking for her, and it sounds to me like she didn’t give him the time of day.”

  Grandma shook her head and stood, grabbing her plate and Grandpa’s to carry to the sink. “You’ll never find a husband if you keep treating all the nice men like that.”

  Mary was confused. First Grandma seemed upset about her being with Abe, and now she wanted her to be nice to him. Her stomach churned, and the peanut butter pie Grandma had made didn’t sound so good. Mama’s angry words played in the back of her mind as she thought about how nothing she did around here seemed to be good enough. Sometimes Grandma seemed halfway happy, but Mary still hadn’t figured out what it took to get a lasting smile from her. When she smiled, it was unexpected, and it flickered but quickly vanished. Mary knew Grandma loved her, but she was obviously afraid to show it.

  “May I be excused?” Mary asked.

  Grandma had her back to her, but she slowly turned. “I made this pie ’specially for you, Mary. Don’t tell me you don’t want it.”

  “She’ll have some,” Grandpa said as he stood up and walked around the table. “Just give her a few minutes for her food to settle. Why don’t the two of you ladies take a break? I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

  “I’ll not have you cl—” Grandma began.

  Grandpa shushed her by placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the door. “I said I’ll clean up. Why don’t you two take a stroll around the block, and by the time you get back, I should be all done.”

  The last thing Mary wanted to do was be alone with Grandma, but she was too tired to argue. She looked at Grandpa, who winked and made a shooing gesture.

  As soon as they got outside, Grandma started talking. “Your grandpa thinks I’m too hard on you. He’s afraid you’ll run off like your mother did. Is that going to happen?”

  Mary allowed a few seconds to slip by before speaking. “No. I don’t plan to leave.”

  “Neither did your mother.” Grandma’s voice cracked.

  Mary was sick of being compared to her mother. “I’m not my mother.” The instant those words left her mouth, she regretted how harsh she sounded. “I—”

  “Ya. Thank the Lor
d.”

  “My mother was good to me.”

  “Maybe so, but look how she left you.” Grandma slowed down. “Today is the anniversary of—”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve been thinking about her all day. It isn’t easy, you know, raising a child up in the Lord, only to have her turn on me like she did.”

  “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Grandma.”

  “But she did. Very much. I may never get over it.”

  “Mama did what she thought she had to do.” Mary cleared her throat. “I’ve never understood what happened, though. She tried to tell me, but some things didn’t make sense.”

  “Do you want me to tell you?”

  “Yes.” Mary knew Grandma’s story would likely be quite different from Mama’s, but this was the first time she’d ever offered to discuss it. Grandma had obviously been doing the same thing Mary had all day—thinking about Mama. “I’m ready to hear the truth.”

  Grandma stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. A tear trickled down her cheek as her lips moved in silent prayer. When she opened her eyes, Mary saw the pain etched in them.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma. If it hurts too much, you don’t have to talk about it.”

  “Neh, it’s time you heard the truth.” Grandma paused long enough to gather her thoughts before she began. “She wanted to go stay with some friends she met at the restaurant, in spite of my worries,” Grandma began. She coughed and sniffled.

  “She told me about those friends, and they didn’t seem so bad.”

  “Those girls were horrible, and they taught her how to be disrespectful to her faith.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandma, I didn’t mean—”

  Grandma held up her hand to shush her. “Your grandpa and I have been talking about this quite a bit lately. He thinks I should tell you everything. I guess today is as good as any to do that.”

  “I would like to know more,” Mary said softly. Mama had told her all about how Grandma had flown into a rage, telling her to leave and never show her face again.

  “I’m ready to tell you our side of it.” Grandma hung her head as she reached for Mary’s hand. Mary’s shock sent a lump to her throat. “I love you, sweet girl. Just like I loved your mother. She hurt us more than you’ll ever know—unless you have a daughter of your own who storms out and never returns.”

  Mary swallowed hard. “But I thought—”

  “Be quiet and let me tell you.”

  Mary forced herself to nod. She knew Mama had been hurt, and her perception had been tainted by her childish anger. After all, Mama was only sixteen when she left home. But Mary also knew Grandma’s memories were slanted from her perspective—just like Mama’s were. “Okay, please tell me.”

  Grandma pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes before she opened up. “These girls were here on vacation—down from Cincinnati. Elizabeth met them when they came into the restaurant looking for something to do. Her plain clothes and different ways fascinated them, so they invited her along everywhere they went.”

  Mary smiled. She understood how those girls must have felt because when she first arrived in Sarasota, she’d been awestruck by the plain lifestyle.

  “I didn’t want her to go, but your grandpa said it would be good for her. After they left, I was relieved, but only for a short while because after they went home, they sent word that they wanted her to visit them up in Cincinnati. She’d obviously told them about rumspringa, and they wanted to show her their way of life. Again, your grandpa said we should let her go.

  Besides, he pointed out that she planned to leave town, and it would be nice to know she had a place to stay, so off she went. When she came back, I knew she was different. Four months later, it was obvious she’d never be the same.” Grandma slowed her pace and rubbed her abdomen. “She was pregnant with you. I said some things …”

  “I know,” Mary said. “Mama told me.”

  “I couldn’t help it. When I had my rumspringa, things were very different.”

  Mary smiled. “What did you do during your rumspringa?”

  “Helga and I went to town and bought some lipstick. Then we went to a dance party that she heard about from some boys. The second we walked into that place, we knew it wasn’t good for us, so we left.”

  Mary couldn’t picture her grandmother wearing lipstick, and showing up at a dance party? That was unfathomable. She laughed. “Were you and Helga by yourselves?”

  Grandma’s stern lips turned up at the corners, and she finally allowed herself a full grin. “Ya, but we didn’t leave that party alone.”

  “Grandma!” Mary couldn’t hold back her shock. “Did you meet some boys there?”

  “We knew a couple of them, ya. But don’t get so alarmed. One of them was your grandpa. He and Paul got there right before we arrived, and they didn’t like it any more than we did. So they offered to take us home.”

  It must have been scandalous at the time, but everything obviously worked out fine, since Grandma and Grandpa were still married and Helga was still married to Paul. They lived in Pinecraft, just two blocks away from the Penners. Paul had a small candy store not far from the community with a corner nook featuring Helga’s crafts.

  “I think your grandpa should be done with the kitchen chores by now. We need to get on back.”

  “Grandma, before we go any farther, I want to know something.”

  “Just ask me, Mary. Don’t drag it out.”

  “If you had it to do over again with Mama, would you have done anything different?”

  Grandma’s soft expression instantly returned to a scowl. “It never does anyone any good to have regrets. It’s too late to look back and say what I should have done, so I won’t even think about it like that.”

  Chapter 2

  Abe pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number of his favorite ride into town. It was too difficult in this modern world to drive a horse and buggy. Accidents on the highway left many of the Mennonites and Amish dead or with debilitating injuries, so he relied on the services of folks who made their living transporting those who didn’t drive cars.

  David answered right away. “Sure thing. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “That’ll be just fine.” Abe finished getting ready, then went out to wait on the front porch.

  The large white van pulled into the shell-encrusted driveway exactly fifteen minutes later. “Where to, Abe?” David asked as Abe slid into the van.

  “Penner’s.”

  David chuckled as he pulled out onto the road. “That Penner’s place must have some great food for you to go there every day.”

  “Not every day,” Abe reminded him. “They’re closed on Sundays.”

  Abe saw the look of amusement on David’s face, but at least the man had the decency not to continue this train of thought. “How’s the farm doing? I can’t help but notice the changes. Seems like there’s something different every time I come out here.”

  “Ya, I’ve made a few changes in the last year.”

  “Things must be going well then.”

  “Can’t complain. We work hard, though.”

  “So when do you think you’ll need some more workers? I have a couple friends who are out of work.”

  “Out of work? Why?” Abe folded his arms and stared out the window as they whizzed past alternating farms and patches of palmettos.

  David shrugged. “Layoffs. The economy’s been rough lately.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Abe could use another worker or two, but they had to be able to jump right in without much supervision. “Any of your friends have farming experience?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Can’t use ’em then.”

  “How about you meet them first, before you make a decision? I can’t speak for all my buddies, but I think a couple of them would be good at farming if they knew what to do. They’re hard workers, too.”

  Abe pondered that thought for a moment before crisply nodding. “I s’po
se that would only be fair. I’ve already asked around the Mennonite community, and no one else is beating my door down for a job.”

  “Thanks, Abe. I’ll send my friends your way. Is it okay if they call your cell phone?”

  “Of course. How else would they get hold of me?”

  “True.” David snickered. “I bet you’re a tough man to work for.”

  “No. Just fair. I expect people to earn their wages, and I pay them what they’re worth.”

  “Interesting concept,” David said. “Too bad more people aren’t like you.”

  Abe slowly shook his head. “That might not be such a good thing. God created us all different for a reason.”

  “Good point.” David pulled into the Penner’s parking lot. “Want me to pick you up here at a certain time, or should I wait to hear from you?”

  “I’ll call,” Abe said as he got out of the van. He handed David some cash. “Thank you for the ride, David. See you later.”

  David waved before he took off. Abe turned around and faced the front of Penner’s. For a moment, his resolution to work his way into Mary Penner’s life wavered, but he recognized his fear of rejection and dismissed it. That should never keep a man from following the Lord’s plan for him, and he was fairly certain of what God wanted. Otherwise, why would God plant Mary’s image on his brain so indelibly?

  “Abe.” Joseph Penner greeted him at the door. “Good to see you again. Where would you like to sit?”