Sarasota Dreams (37 page)

William turned his head toward Shelley to face her. As he opened his eyes, she could tell he’d been crying. “Everyone was laughing at me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t like it when people laugh at me.”

“They are stupid people,” their mother said sternly.

Shelley placed her hands on William’s shoulders. “People laugh at others when they don’t know what else to do.”

“It makes my stomach hurt when people laugh at me,” William said, sniffling.

Shelley knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d experienced it when she was younger and went places where people didn’t understand the plain way of life. It had taken years to eventually tune out the ignorant people who made fun of anyone unlike them.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, William,” Mother said as she backed away from the door. “Church starts in one hour. Get up and get ready.” Without another word, she walked away.

“Shelley, what can I do to make Myra stop being so mean?” William asked.

“Try to ignore her,” Shelley replied, wishing she had a better answer that would soothe him and make Myra stop. But she knew there was no simple answer. “Eventually, she’ll stop when she discovers her words aren’t getting the reaction she wants.”

William slowly sat up in bed and used the edge of the sheet to dab at his eyes. “Will Jeremiah be at church today?”

Shelley froze. She hadn’t seen much of Jeremiah since the day his car wouldn’t start. She understood how difficult it must have been to give up the freedom from having his own car, but she’d hoped he’d make more of an effort to stop by the restaurant. In spite of her thoughts that he might not be good for her, she’d started looking forward to seeing him. After her experience with Peter leading her on and then announcing he planned to marry Clara, she’d erected a shield around her heart. Jeremiah had managed to bring back some feelings she wasn’t sure she’d ever have again.

William waved his hand in front of Shelley’s face to get her attention. “Well? Will he?”

“I—I would assume so.” Shelley stood and eased away from the bedside. “Now get up, and start getting ready. At least we know Myra won’t be at church, so you don’t need to worry about her today.”

William grinned. “Good thing for that.”

“Yes, it’s a very good thing. I have to help Mother finish making the salad and rolls for the potluck after church.”

“Are you making dessert?”

“Not this time. Last potluck we had too many desserts and not enough salads.”

William grinned and rubbed his tummy. “I like dessert.”

She flashed a smile as she closed William’s door so he could get ready. Fortunately, William had forgotten his humiliation—at least temporarily. As she walked toward the kitchen, she said a silent prayer that God would find something else for Myra to think about so William would have some peace. It was bad enough for him to have to ward off Myra’s jeers about the way Shelley dressed.

Her mother didn’t waste a second. The instant Shelley arrived in the kitchen her mother started issuing orders, which was just fine. It kept Shelley from having to think about William, Jeremiah, or herself.

“Where’s Father?” Shelley asked.

“He went on ahead to the church. Some of the men wanted to get the grounds ready for our potluck early.” She cast a frown at Shelley. “William was supposed to go with him, but your father couldn’t make him budge.”

Shelley needed to change the subject quickly. “This salad looks delicious.”

“Do me a favor, and put the rolls in that basket over there. I’ll cover them with one of the clean dish towels in the drawer.”

By the time they finished getting everything together, William had joined them in the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

“I set some ham and a biscuit by the stove,” their mother said. “Better hurry and eat because we need to get going.”

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were on their way to church. William carried the basket of rolls, while Shelley and Mother brought the salad and the ingredients they’d have to add at the last minute.

The second the church came into view, Shelley saw Jeremiah. He stood by the corner of the building, watching in her direction.

“That boy!” Shelley’s mother shook her head. “Why isn’t he working with the other men?”

“Maybe they’re finished,” William said. “Looky over there. Father’s standing around talking to his friends.”

Their mother’s scowl let Shelley know that no matter what Jeremiah did, it wouldn’t be good enough. Too bad Shelley’s pulse had taken on a life of its own. She could feel her heart beating from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Before Shelley even got to the church property, Jeremiah was on his way to them. “Here,” he said as he reached for the oversized bowl in her mother’s hands. “Let me carry that for you.”

Shelley half expected her mother to yank it away and say she didn’t need his help. But she didn’t. Instead, she pointed to the side of the church. “That goes in the kitchen. See to it you don’t get distracted by anyone along the way.”

Jeremiah cut his eyes toward Shelley and made a goofy face. She had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing.

Mother jumped in right behind Jeremiah, preventing Shelley from directly following him, clearly a method of keeping them from being too close. Jeremiah placed the bowl where he was told. After he turned around, he leaned to make eye contact with Shelley. Her face flamed as her mother spun around and glared at her.

Mrs. Penner chose that moment to appear. “Melba! I’m so glad you remembered the salad. Looks like we have too many desserts again. Come with me, and let’s see if we can figure out a way to space them better, so the children won’t get too carried away with the sweets.”

Shelley watched as her mother made a decision between remaining between her and Jeremiah or following Mrs. Penner. The quick look her boss’s wife gave Shelley let her know she had intervened on purpose. Shelley gulped.

“Oh …” Mother turned a frown on Shelley but softened her facial features as she nodded to Mrs. Penner. “Okay. Shelley, make sure William is taken care of and seated before you join the women.”

Shelley watched her mother and Mrs. Penner weave their way through the group toward the food that was already set up. She tingled at the awareness of Jeremiah standing so close.

“Your mother loves you,” Jeremiah said, “and she’s trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Shelley blinked before looking at Jeremiah. “From what?”

“From me. She obviously still doesn’t trust me, and I can’t say I don’t blame her. I’ll probably do the same thing with my daughter … if the Lord chooses to bless me with one.”

Shelley knew he was right, but she didn’t want to continue with this conversation, which took her to an uncomfortable place in her heart. “It looks like we’ll have plenty of food for the potluck.”

Jeremiah tilted his head back and laughed. “Was there ever a time when we didn’t? The women in this church like to make sure everyone is well fed.”

“And what is wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Jeremiah grimaced. “Why do I feel like I said the wrong thing?”

Shelley sighed. “You didn’t. I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. It’s just that … well, I don’t know what to say right now.”

“You could say that you will go to the museum with me when I have some time off from work.”

Now she was totally speechless. When she tried to think of a response, nothing came to mind.

Jeremiah gave her a look of understanding. “Think about it. I’ll stop by the restaurant next week, and we can talk about it then.”

She nodded.

“I’d better go help the men finish setting up the tables, or they’ll send out a search party for me.”

Shelley watched Jeremiah walk away to join the group of men pulling tables out of the church and setting them up on the lawn. Exerting their wisdom and authority, the older men directed the younger ones. She was happy to see William pitching in and carrying chairs. He’d managed to overcome his own sadness to help others. Shelley sent up a short prayer of thanks for her younger brother.

As Shelley worked with the women, she occasionally cast a glance over toward the men. A few times she noticed Jeremiah talking to William and explaining something to him. The sight of William being treated like a man was comforting and elevated Jeremiah in her mind. She wondered if her mother noticed this.

Throughout the church service, Shelley resisted the urge to look at Jeremiah. She didn’t want her mother to think he was pulling her away from her faith. When she was sure her mother wouldn’t notice, she stole a glance in Jeremiah’s direction and saw that he and William were leaning into each other. Father was on the other side of William, clearly oblivious to his own son’s affection for Jeremiah.

Shelley thought about how she’d be with her own children. She’d certainly try to care about their feelings and innermost thoughts without trying to impose her own dreams for them.

After church was over, Mother didn’t waste a single second. She took Shelley by the hand and pulled her toward the room where the food was stored. “We need to get the salads, vegetables, casseroles, and meats outside right away, or the men and children will think they can start with dessert.”

Shelley seriously doubted that most of the men would do that, but she went along with her mother. Every few minutes she caught herself looking for Jeremiah. When she spotted him, a sense of satisfaction and gladness washed over her.

As soon as the food tables were full, the pastor said the blessing. There was a brief stampede toward the tables, with the younger men claiming their spots first in line, followed by the older men and children. The women hung back until the lines dwindled, and then they filled their plates. There was never any concern about not having enough food because most families brought enough to feed more than the people they came with.

Shelley had a very small appetite, so she didn’t pile her plate with as much as she normally did. Before she sat, she took another look in Jeremiah’s direction. William was about to sit next to him. She hoped Jeremiah didn’t mind; it looked as though he was fine with William clinging to his side.

Mother, Mrs. Penner, Mary, and a couple of the other women were clustered around one end of a large table for twelve. Shelley assumed the empty chair next to Mary was for her, but she asked before sitting.

Mary pulled the chair back. “I saved the seat for you.” Mary looked at Shelley’s plate and grinned. “Oh good. I see that you got some of my ambrosia. Abe says it’s the best he’s ever tasted, so I thought it would be good for today.” She leaned over and cupped her mouth as she whispered, “It’s the recipe the cook at my grandparents’ restaurant uses, but Abe says mine’s better.”

Shelley scooped up a bite of the ambrosia and tasted it. “I think it’s better, too. Did you put something extra in it?”

Mary shrugged. “Just a tad more sugar, maybe, and an extra handful of coconut.”

Shelley laughed. “Then this is a Mary Glick original. You have turned out to be a very good cook. I would never have thought to change a recipe.”

“I can’t imagine following any instructions precisely as they are written. Where’s the fun in that?”

Shelley couldn’t imagine not following directions for fear of a disaster. “Everything you attempt turns out better than the original.”

Mary snickered and shook her head. “You only say that because I don’t share the flops. And there are plenty of them.”

The changes in Mary since Shelley had met her were phenomenal. When Mary first came to the school nearly ten years ago, she had a perpetual scowl on her face. Shelley suspected Mary had been shy but covered it by acting as though she didn’t care about making friends. In spite of that, Shelley had forced herself upon Mary, and they gradually grew to be as close as Mary would allow. Some of the other kids had been afraid of Mary because of her shell, yet Mary thought they were shunning her. Fortunately, she now understood and had become friends with many of them.

“After you’re done, try my grandmother’s mixed berry cobbler. She added some vanilla, and that makes it even better than her original recipe.”

“Mm.” Shelley’s appetite instantly spiked at the mere mention of Mrs. Penner’s cobblers, which she was known for. “I can’t imagine anything better than the original.”

“Just wait,” Mary said. “It’ll knock your socks off.” She winked as Shelley laughed. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”

Shelley loved how Mary had embraced her life as the wife of a Mennonite farmer without losing all of herself. It must have been difficult knowing what to keep and what to let go. After all, the first fourteen years of Mary’s life had been in the lowest trenches of the secular world—not knowing who her father was and with a mother who did who-knows-what to support her. Although Mary rarely mentioned anything about her life before she joined her grandparents in Pinecraft, she had shared some of the grief over her mother’s death at such a difficult age.

After the older women at the table rose to bring out the desserts, Mary leaned toward Shelley. “Jeremiah can’t take his eyes off you.”

“How would you know?” Shelley asked.

“Because every time I look up, he’s staring in this direction, and I’m certain he wouldn’t be looking at an old married woman.”

“I’m older than you,” Shelley countered to cover her embarrassment.

“In years only. Once you get married, you get a leg up on aging.” Mary let out a contented sigh. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I sure hope you are able to experience the joy of being married to a wonderful husband.”

“I thought I would with Peter,” Shelley said, instantly regretting mentioning his name. “Sorry.”

“Peter made a huge mistake, and I’m pretty sure he knows it now,” Mary said. “Clara recently told him she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay in Florida because she misses Pennsylvania. When Peter refused to follow her up north, Clara broke off the engagement.”

Shelley leaned away from Mary and regarded her with interest. “How do you know all this?” Peter and Clara had started attending a different Mennonite church on the other side of Pinecraft, where Clara’s parents attended when they were in town.