Sarasota Dreams (18 page)

“Love me? I doubt that.”

Joseph chuckled. “She just has a difficult way of showing it. Her grandmother and I suspect she saw some very bad things—worse than we can ever imagine—that still haunt her.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Mary is a hurting woman, but behind that wall of steel is a sweet woman who loves the Lord.” Abe grinned. “Every now and then I catch a glimpse of it, like when she’s serving a family in the restaurant or when she speaks of you and Mrs. Penner.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Joseph said as he gestured toward the house. “Let’s get back inside before the ladies think we’ve abandoned them.”

“Abe, you sit over there,” Mary said as she pointed to her regular chair. “Grandma and I thought it might be better since you have such long legs.”

He was surprised she spoke to him after the cold shoulder he’d gotten earlier. “I’ll sit wherever you want me to.”

“Let’s say the blessing now,” Joseph said.

They all joined hands and bowed their heads and listened while Joseph thanked the Lord for the blessing of such a beautiful day, having Abe for dinner, and for the food they were about to eat. It was simple but heartfelt.

“So, Abe, how many hired workers do you have on the farm now?” Joseph asked as they passed the food around the table. “I hear you just hired someone new.”

Abe explained how David had come to him about his friends needing jobs. “I brought one man on recently—Jonathan—and he seems to be working out just fine. He’s worked with his hands before he got his office job, so I just had to teach him some of the basics of farming.”

“Think he might stay?”

“I’m not sure. Farming is one of those things you either love or really dislike. After he gets comfortable with what I taught him, I’ll have a better idea.”

Joseph shook his head. “Too bad so many of our Mennonite boys aren’t more interested in farming.”

Abe was about to put a forkful of food into his mouth, but he stopped. Was this a good time to risk mentioning Jeremiah? Silence fell over the table. A few seconds later, Abe decided he might as well mention it now. He had nothing to hide, and Mary would find out eventually. “Jeremiah wants to come work for me.”

Mary scowled at Abe. “How can you suddenly become such good friends with such a vile man?”

Her grandfather reached for her hand, but she pulled away. When Joseph turned to Abe, the look of helplessness on the older man’s face was evident.

Abe looked directly at Mary. “I hesitated at first, but we’ve chatted a few times. He wants to come back to the church. I took him over to Franz Bartel’s to discuss having him come back to the church today, and Franz thought that was a good idea.”

Mary played with the food on her plate, pushing her vegetables around but not eating them. When she looked up at Abe, he saw a flicker of angst. “That man can’t be trusted. Aren’t you concerned he might do something to sabotage you?” she asked.

Abe shook his head. “Not really, although the thought that he might be using me crossed my mind.”

“There is that,” Sarah said. “Plus the fact that he has a history of bad behavior might make you think twice.”

Joseph looked at his wife. “But Sarah, through the Lord, Jeremiah can be made a new man. Don’t forget about the prodigal son.”

“I do think the Lord’s timing is an indication of what I’m supposed to do,” Abe said. “The farm has expanded, and I need more people. Jeremiah’s timing was perfect. I prayed about it when Jeremiah first came to me, and everything seems to be falling into place.”

Mary put her fork down and placed both hands in her lap. Her eyes appeared glazed as she stared down at the wall. Her shield had returned. Abe wished he’d waited to discuss this with her first before having a conversation about it with her family, but once again the Lord’s timing had kicked in, and he followed what he felt led to do.

“Blessings,” Joseph said. “I’ll pray that Jeremiah is able to help you with your farm and that he follows the examples the Lord has set before him.”

“Thank you,” Abe said. He glanced over at Mary, whose body appeared rigid as she moved her gaze to something on the table. When he looked up, he saw that her grandparents had noticed it, too.

Sarah’s chair screeched across the floor as she stood. “Anyone ready for dessert?”

Abe rarely skipped the opportunity for something sweet, but at the moment it didn’t appeal to him. He stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “No, thank you, Mrs. Penner. I appreciate the delicious meal, but I need to be heading back home. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I understand,” Sarah said softly.

“Excuse me while I go call for”—Abe looked at Mary then at Joseph, who offered a slight smile—“my ride.” He went outside and punched in Jeremiah’s phone number. “Can you pick me up in a few minutes?” he asked.

“I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” Jeremiah said.

Abe went back inside and thanked Sarah again for the food. Mary was nowhere in sight, but Joseph offered to walk outside and wait with him.

Once they were on the front lawn, Joseph spoke up. “We need to pray for Mary and her forgiving spirit. This is obviously very difficult for her, but she needs to realize that most people aren’t judging her about her past.”

“Yes, I know,” Abe agreed. “I’ll do my best to help her, but I have to admit it will be much easier if she would open up and talk to me about how she feels and what she’s thinking. She started to, but something is holding her back.”

Joseph shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on her ever opening up completely. Mary is a very private young woman.”

Jeremiah pulled up at that moment. He waved to Joseph, who waved back. Once Abe was in the car and buckled up, Jeremiah took off toward the farm.

“How’d it go?”

Abe wasn’t sure what to tell Jeremiah, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I talked about hiring you for the farm.”

Jeremiah snorted. “Oh, I bet that went over like a lead balloon.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

No matter how hard Mary tried, she couldn’t let go of the pain from her past. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the box she’d pulled out of the closet and placed on her bed. Until now she’d avoided it, but all the emotional stirrings had lately brought it to mind. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Mary,” Grandma said. “Mind if I come in?”

“I don’t mind.” Mary shifted to face the door as it opened. “Did you need me for something?”

Grandma’s stern face softened as she saw the box on the bed. “No, Mary, but I think you need me.” She sat down next to Mary and took her hand. They sat in silence for several minutes.

“Grandma, if it weren’t for Mama getting pregnant with me, do you think she’d still be here?”

Her grandmother’s chin quivered before she lifted her head and looked directly at Mary. “We cannot do that, Mary. Going back and trying to figure out what might have been will only weaken and eventually destroy our faith.”

“But if Mama hadn’t gotten pregnant, you wouldn’t have told her to leave.”

A flash of confusion flickered through Grandma’s eyes. “Is that what you think? That I told your mama to leave?”

Mary hung her head and slowly nodded. “Isn’t that what happened?”

“No, not at all.” Grandma’s eyes glistened with tears, but she reached out and gently stroked the side of Mary’s face with the back of her hand. “When she admitted what she’d done, we were very upset. I said some things that upset her … things I shouldn’t have said, but I never told her she had to leave. In fact, I told her she couldn’t leave. She had to stay home.”

“But—”

Grandma lifted a finger to shush Mary. “We told her that as long as she lived in our home, she was to follow our rules. She told us our rules were archaic, and she stormed out.” Grandma allowed a tear to escape. “That was the last time we saw her.”

Grandma’s version of what happened was quite different from Mama’s, but Mary knew how time altered things. Even some of her own memories had blurred.

“Mary?”

Mary glanced up. “I don’t know what to do now … or what to think.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and open the box? There might be something in there that can help you through this time.” Grandma brushed a tear from her cheek. “And if there’s not, I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

“It just doesn’t seem right,” Mary said softly. “Mama isn’t here anymore, so what’s the point?”

“She obviously wanted you to have whatever it is. If it were me …” Grandma’s voice trailed off as she turned back to look at the box. “But it’s not me.”

Mary took a chance and studied her grandmother’s face. The pain she saw was as intense as the ache in her own heart. For the first time, she considered what the impact of her mother’s actions had on Grandma. She had to fight the tears to keep them from falling, but a couple still escaped. Now she realized that the box she’d kept in her closet meant as much to her grandmother as it did her.

Mary stood, swallowed hard, and shook her head. “No, I think I can do it now.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Grandma’s quavering voice shook Mary even more.

“Please stay.” Mary lifted the box and turned around to face Grandma, whose gaze locked with hers. “Let’s open it together.”

The box was sealed tightly with packing tape. Mary picked at one end of the tape while her grandmother snagged the other. They pulled at the same time, releasing the flaps that had been shut for many years.

Grandma stilled Mary’s hand. “Let’s pray about this before we look.”

Mary nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. As Grandma prayed for the emotional strength and understanding of the meaning behind whatever Elizabeth had placed in this box, tears managed to stream their way down Mary’s cheeks. When they both said “Amen,” Mary opened her eyes and saw that Grandma’s eyes were misty.

“Ready?” Grandma asked.

Mary opened one flap, and Grandma lifted the other. Grandma gasped as the plain white kapp came into full view.

“It’s Elizabeth’s kapp—the last one she wore before she … before she left.” She pointed to some initials on the back. “Your mother always liked to monogram her kapps, and this time she used green thread because she ran out of brown.”

Mary leaned over the box to see if there was anything else inside. There was—a sealed envelope with her name on it. She pulled it out, turned it over, and cleared her throat.

“Go on, Mary,” Grandma urged as she hugged the kapp to her chest. “Open it.”

Mary fumbled with the envelope flap until she finally ripped it open. She pulled out a brief letter addressed to her.

“Read it to yourself first,” Grandma said. “Then if you don’t mind my reading it, I will.”

“I’d like to read it aloud the first time if you don’t mind.”

Grandma glanced down, sniffled, then looked back at Mary, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“It is.” Mary lifted the letter and studied it for a few seconds before she began.