Authors: Debby Mayne
Mama’s stories continued to haunt her. She sensed that the only man her mother ever trusted was Grandpa, and even that trust had been shaken when he hadn’t protected her from everyone’s wrath.
Instead of going home after work, Mary took the bus back to the beach. She decided she’d walk along the water rather than sit this time.
The beach was even more crowded with tourists. “Hey, Mommy,” she heard a little girl say. “Why is that lady dressed like that?” Her mother’s reply was in a hushed tone, and Mary couldn’t make out what the woman said.
Most of the locals were used to seeing Mennonites around town, but many of the tourists weren’t accustomed to their presence. She wanted to be invisible, but with her kapp and long, full skirt, that was impossible. What if she secretly changed into Yankee clothes once in a while, just to hide from the world? The irony of shedding clothes in order to hide gave her a chuckle.
Half expecting to hear Abe’s voice behind her caused her to glance over her shoulder every once in a while. But she didn’t. All she heard were the sounds of water washing up on the beach, birds calling out to each other, and the high-pitched sounds of kids playing.
The sun was hotter than last time, so she didn’t stay on the beach long. After a brief walk, she went back to the bus stop and waited. The flurry of emotions continued swirling around her, escalating her confusion. She no longer fit into the outside world, but she’d never felt like she fully belonged in the Mennonite community. She felt like a misfit, no matter where she was.
She boarded the bus after it stopped. No one else was on it, so she took a seat toward the front. Mary felt very alone.
A few stops later, Mary got off the bus a block from the restaurant. In order not to be seen, she darted between buildings and went straight around back to get her three-wheeler. She was about to take off when the sound of someone sniffling caught her attention.
Mary glanced over her shoulder and saw Shelley by the garbage cans behind the restaurant, dabbing her eyes, her body racked with sobs. She hopped off the three-wheeler and ran over to her friend and coworker.
“What happened, Shelley? Was a customer mean to you?”
Shelley stiffened as Mary gripped her arm. She looked up to Mary with red-rimmed eyes and shook her head. “Peter told me he’s marrying Clara.”
“But I thought—” Mary stopped herself before blurting that she thought Peter was about to propose to Shelley. “Clara who?”
Shelley sniffled again and blew her nose. She cleared her throat. “Clara from Pennsylvania.”
“Do we know her?” Mary asked.
Shelley shook her head. “I saw her talking to Peter once, but I just thought they were acquaintances.”
“How can he do that, after courting you for so long?”
“He said he and I were just very good friends all along and that I should be happy for him. I feel so stupid now.”
“Join the club,” Mary said. “I feel that way most of the time.”
“I thought I did everything right. Whenever he wanted to do something, I was always right there, willing to do it with him. When he needed help with the food drive, I jumped in and volunteered. At the potlucks, he always wanted to sit with me, so I saved him a place. Wanna know what he asked me to do?”
Mary shook her head. “No telling.”
“He wants me to be in charge of the food for his wedding.”
“Peter isn’t as smart as I thought he was.”
“No, Mary, I think I’m the one who isn’t very smart. Now that I think back, I can’t remember a time when Peter ever said anything about getting married.”
“Didn’t he tell you he loved you?”
Shelley shook her head. “Never. Not even once. All he said was that we were about as close as two people could get without being husband and wife. I read into it too much.”
“Everyone thought you two would get married.”
“I know. He said something else I didn’t expect. He told me he always felt sorry for me because of William.”
Mary gasped. “William is so sweet and such a blessing.”
“Yes, I know. I thought Peter understood that, too. But he’s just like the rest of the people we knew in school, even though he’s a couple years older.”
Mary dropped her arms by her sides. This just validated her mother’s words about men even more. Even from her vantage point, Peter had appeared smitten with Shelley. When they were at church, he never let Shelley out of his sight. He even came to the restaurant asking where his girl was.
“This is terrible, Shelley, but you’re a strong woman. You can stand up to him and show you’re not the least bit fazed by his silliness and …” She wanted to say
stupidity
, but she held back. She’d already said enough.
Shelley let out a tiny half giggle/half sob. “Mary, you are such a good friend. I’m glad you came back when you did.” She blew her nose then stuffed the tissue back into her pocket. “By the way, where did you go? Your grandfather said you left, but when I came out here, I saw your wheels.”
“Sometimes when I need to think I catch the bus and go to the beach.” Mary tugged Shelley away from the spot where she’d been standing. “Why don’t you come to my grandparents’ house with me? I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t mind you staying for supper.”
“No, I have to cook for William. Our parents are up in Ohio visiting family.” Shelley took hold of Mary’s hand. “Thank you for caring. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along when you did.”
“You would have done the same thing for me,” Mary said. “In fact, you have. Sometimes when I feel lost or all alone, you say something or give me a look that lets me know I’m not.”
Shelley squeezed Mary’s hand then let go. “I need to get on home now. William is probably worried about me.”
“Tell William I said hi.” Mary hopped back up on the seat of her three-wheeler. “Speaking of worry, I need to get home and help Grandma with her chores. I don’t want her to worry about me.”
On the way home, Mary thought about the similarities between her life and Shelley’s. Although Shelley had never left the community, her older brother had fallen away from the church and her younger brother had Down syndrome, which made some of the other kids in school very uncomfortable. At first Mary wondered why Shelley was such a loner, but after she went home with Shelley a few times, she learned.
Sometimes life just didn’t seem fair. Mary had done nothing to cause other people to pretend she didn’t exist, yet some still did.
Mary’s mother had shared her faith with Mary, but she always mentioned the inconsistencies she’d noticed from some of the people who attended church. Not all of them, but some had twisted the Gospel to fit their agenda.
Shelley somehow maintained her sweetness, and her zest for everything she did gave her the ability to overlook other people’s pitying glances. She was the only person who’d actually gone out of her way to be nice to Mary. Perhaps she understood how Mary felt on some level.
What Peter had done was incomprehensible. As Mary reflected on how much time Shelley had put into that relationship, she had no doubt Peter had strung Shelley along, knowing what she expected. Mary knew she wasn’t supposed to be angry. The Lord would want her to turn her anger over to Him and simply pray His will be done. It wasn’t easy, but as soon as she pulled into her grandparents’ yard, that was exactly what she did. Mary had just closed her eyes and begun to speak to the Lord, asking for help in knowing how to comfort Shelley, when she heard Grandma.
“Mary, is that you? Come inside right now. I need you to give me a hand in here.”
“I’ll be right there,” Mary called back. She closed her eyes again, finished her prayer, and said “Amen” aloud before hopping off her three-wheeler and going inside to see what Grandma wanted.
“Grace Hoffstetter is sick, and her husband, Bernard, needs some supper. I fixed them a little something, but I can’t leave the house. I want you to take this over to them.” She pointed to a casserole cooling on the counter. “You can stop by the restaurant and see if there’s any pie left from today that you can take with you. Tell your grandfather I said it was okay.”
Mary nodded. Grandpa wouldn’t have minded if she’d taken pie, even if Grandma hadn’t said anything, but she didn’t need to mention that. “Is it just for Mr. Hoffstetter?” Mary asked.
“As far as I know. I don’t think Grace can eat yet.” A pinched look came over Grandma’s face. “Josephine still hasn’t returned.”
Mary had overheard Grandma telling Grandpa about Josephine Hoffstetter leaving the church. No doubt it brought back haunting memories of their own earlier lives.
As Mary and Grandma got a basket loaded with some bread and other items to take with the casserole, Mary tried to make conversation. “What’s wrong with Mrs. Hoffstetter?”
“Don’t know exactly.”
“Is it serious?”
“Don’t think so.”
Grandma’s clipped words let Mary know she wasn’t in the mood to talk. They finished packing the food in silence.
“Don’t stop anywhere except the restaurant,” Grandma said. “I want this food to still be warm when you get to the Hoffstetters’.”
Mary bit her bottom lip. Grandma still treated her like she didn’t have the sense to know what she needed to do.
After everything was all packed up, Grandma touched Mary’s arm, stopping her. “Your grandfather and I have been talking. We think it’s time for you to get a cell phone so you can let us know where you are.”
“I can just tell you where I’m going,” Mary said. “I don’t need a cell phone.”
“We’d like for you to have one, even if it’s on one of those prepaid plans. You make plenty of money in tips, and you don’t have anything else to spend your money on.”
“I’ll think about it,” Mary said. “Let me get this to the Hoffstetters now so I can be back in time to help out with our supper.”
Grandma nodded. “You are right, Mary. We don’t need to worry about you.” Her expression softened. “I will give you credit for being a good girl … at least so far.”
Stunned, Mary lifted her eyebrows. “I try to be.”
“Now go on, get outta here. I’m sure Bernard is half-starving by now.” Grandma shooed her out the door.
After carefully placing the casserole and other items in the basket, Mary got on her three-wheeler and pedaled toward the restaurant to pick up some dessert for the Hoffstetters. She’d turned the last corner near the restaurant when she caught a glimpse of Abe bent over a car, talking to someone through the side window. He obviously didn’t see her, so she scooted around back.
She found a safe spot for her three-wheeler, secured it, and walked into the restaurant, where Grandpa was finishing the late afternoon cleanup. “Grandma told me to pick up some dessert for the Hoffstetters. Got anything good?”
“Ya.” He pointed toward the pie case. “Take your pick. Give them enough for tomorrow, too.”
Mary found a couple of to-go containers and carefully placed some chocolate cream pie in one and some coconut cake in the other. As she left, she lifted her hand in a wave. “See you in a little while.”
“Does your grandmother want me to bring something home?” he asked.
“She didn’t say, but I’m sure that would be good.”
He nodded. “Okay, I’ll bring some cornbread and the rest of the chocolate pie—that is, if you left any.”
“Oh there’s plenty left,” Mary said. She shoved the door open with her backside and slipped out.
She couldn’t help but look for Abe when she got outside, but she didn’t see him. That was just as well. She needed to get this food to the Hoffstetters and then head straight home to help Grandma.
It was a gorgeous day, with a blue sky and a few fluffy clouds that had drifted in from the Gulf of Mexico. A couple of seagulls called out as they flew over. The palm trees lining both sides of the road completed the postcard-perfect setting. The gentle breeze lifted the hair that had fallen beneath her kapp and fluttered the leaves of the trees.
Mary sighed. She was blessed to be here in Sarasota, even though memories continued to haunt her. Grandma’s occasional softening gave her hope, but it rarely lasted long. She knew it was time to let go of her past and allow herself to appreciate God’s blessings and forgive anyone who chose to treat her poorly, but it was harder than simply making the decision to do it.
After Mary made sure both of the Hoffstetters were fed and comfortable and the dishes were washed, she left their house. She’d turned the corner past the restaurant when she spotted Abe getting out of the car she’d seen him standing beside earlier. She was about to call out to him when the driver’s side door opened and out stepped Jeremiah. It wasn’t the same car she’d seen Jeremiah in earlier.
Alarm bells rang in Mary’s head. What was Abe doing with Jeremiah?
M
ary’s heart lurched as she saw Abe and Jeremiah talking and laughing together as though they were good friends. Jeremiah stepped beside Abe on the sidewalk, and they went off in the other direction.
She stopped pedaling and tried to process what she’d just seen. All this time Abe had seemed appalled by Jeremiah’s behavior and the things he’d said. Now, however, he looked perfectly fine with the man who’d fallen away from the church and said those horrible words about her.
Mary’s mother’s words drifted back into her mind. During the past several days, Mary had convinced herself that Abe was different and that he was the one man besides Grandpa who could be trusted. Now she doubted herself and her ability to discern anything about anyone.
She began pedaling as fast as she could, dodging people on the sidewalk as she headed home. By the time she arrived, she was hot and sweaty, and her face flamed.
Grandpa had obviously just arrived home. He stood not far from the kitchen door, smiling, but she didn’t bother saying a word as she brushed past him.
“Mary!” Grandma’s voice echoed through the tiny house. “Come here right now. Don’t you just tear through the house like a spoiled child. What happened?”
Mary could hear Grandma getting closer. She was tempted to close her bedroom door, but that would only make the problem worse.
Grandma stopped in the bedroom doorway and glared at her. “What’s got you in such a dither?”