Sarasota Dreams (44 page)

After the women had all the serving tables loaded with food, Charles found his place with Pop. He lowered his head before the pastor said the blessing. As he raised his head and opened his eyes, he caught Ruthie staring at him, and his heart gave an unexpected leap.

“Go talk to her, Son.” Pop nudged him in the ribs.

“I’m not so sure this is a good time. Why don’t we eat first?”

Pop opened his mouth, probably to argue, but he didn’t have a chance before one of the older men approached and started talking. As the men exchanged words about farming, Charles mentally lectured himself about courage. He’d always been a little nervous about talking to people, which was one of the reasons being a clown had appealed to him.

Mom and Pop had taken him to a circus when he was in elementary school. He’d enjoyed watching the high-wire performers and the animals, but the acts that had intrigued him the most were the clowns. From a distance they seemed friendly, happy, and approachable, but when he got close, he realized that the makeup made them look that way, even when they frowned. And they didn’t have to talk. Clowns were mesmerizing to all—from those who loved them to people who were afraid of them.

When his parents realized his obsession, they enrolled him in a clown camp sponsored by Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey, where he learned some of the basics of making people laugh. He had fun, but something still seemed to be missing. After he graduated from high school, he enrolled at the Sarasota-Manatee campus of the University of South Florida and volunteered as a clown at the children’s hospital. At first it was fun, but after a year’s worth of performances, it started getting old. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life, so he hadn’t gotten past the general education classes in college. Then Pop asked if he was interested in working part-time at the Glick farm. By the end of the first week of repairing the barn, even after the rafter fell on him, he knew he’d found work that suited him. He’d never felt such a sense of satisfaction as what he experienced after working with his hands.

Ruthie couldn’t stop stealing glances at Charles. At first he was engaged in conversation with some of the men, but as his father continued socializing, Charles had become withdrawn. He appeared to be deep in thought. She wondered what was on his mind.

“Go see if you can get him something,” Shelley whispered. “Both of you are obviously shy, and someone has to make the first move.”

“No one
has
to make a move at all.”

“True.” Shelley rested her hand on Ruthie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take the approach of being friendly and showing your appreciation for his interest in being a Mennonite?”

“I could do that,” Ruthie said. “But I still feel awkward.”

“I’m sure he won’t notice if you don’t tell him. He’ll just think you’re a friendly girl who wants to welcome him.”

Ruthie looked Shelley in the eye and nodded. “I’ll go speak to him and ask if he’s had enough dessert.”

Shelley turned Ruthie around and gave her a gentle shove. “Then you best do it now before someone else does.”

Ruthie took a deep breath and slowly headed toward Charles, her mind focused on putting one foot in front of the other rather than the fear that welled in her stomach. When she came within a couple of feet of him, she made eye contact and swallowed hard. “Would you like more dessert? There’s plenty more over there.”

A sense of numbness flooded her when he didn’t immediately respond. Then a wide grin spread across his lips and he nodded. “I would love more dessert. Will you join me?”

The next half hour went by so quickly it was more of a blur than a detailed memory. After she and Charles sat down with plates of pie, he asked questions and attentively listened to her answers. If she had any doubt about her attraction to Charles, it quickly dissolved. The last call for desserts went out, snagging their attention away from each other.

“I had fun, Ruthie,” Charles said softly. “W–would you be interested in getting together sometime soon?”

“Ya, I would like that.”

He stood up and looked down at her. “I’d like to make a date, but I’m not sure yet when I’ll be available.”

“I’ll be in church next Sunday.”

Charles smiled. “So will I. I’ll talk to Abe and Pop then get back with you.” He walked backward a couple of steps. “Good-bye, Ruthie. Have a nice week.” Then he turned and hurried toward the parking lot.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Shelley asked from behind Ruthie.

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Shelley tilted her head back and laughed. “Trust me when I say there will be more difficult things to come.” She put her arm around Ruthie and led her to the church. “So tell me all about it. Did he ask if he could see you again?”

Ruthie explained that he needed to check with Abe and his father before committing to a time. “I hope Mother doesn’t mind.”

“Why would she mind?” Shelley said. “Your parents are two of the kindest, most open people I know. They were both in favor of his family joining the church.”

“Ya, I know, but when it comes to me and the people I associate with, they can be quite different.”

“Trust me, I know how that is.” Shelley glanced over her shoulder and spotted her mother staring at her. “Fortunately Jeremiah managed to win over both of my parents, but it wasn’t easy for him or me.”

Ruthie remembered hearing all about what Shelley and Jeremiah had gone through. “I don’t even know Charles well enough to think that much into our … friendship. But he is very nice.”

“Yes,” Shelley agreed, nodding. “He’s very nice, and he seems sincere about learning the Bible.”

Ruthie helped clean the tables and church kitchen. After the remaining men put everything away, she walked the three blocks to the house where she lived with her parents. Mother and Papa had gone on a walk, so she had the house to herself. It was nice to have time to think.

“Ruthie Kauffman seems like such a sweet girl,” Pop said as he maneuvered the car out of the church parking lot. “Have you thought about asking her out on a date?”

“I’d like to, Pop, but where do Mennonite people go on dates?”

His parents exchanged an amused look before his mother spoke. “Definitely not to a bar or dance club.”

That was obvious. “Do you think she’d like to go to a circus?”

“I don’t see why not,” Pop said. “It seems harmless enough.”

Mom’s eyebrows were furrowed as she studied his face. “You’re not still harboring the notion of being a clown, are you, Charles?”

“No, I’ve been over that for a while, but I still like them.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “I just hope she’s not afraid of clowns.”

Pop stopped at the red light and winked at him in the rearview mirror. “If she is, you’ll be there to protect her, just like I did when your mother and I had our first date.”

Mom playfully swatted at Pop. “You took me to a scary movie just so I’d grab you.”

Pop pretended to be hurt. “If we go through with becoming Mennonite, you can’t keep beating me up.”

Mom looked over her shoulder at Charles. “Now he’s afraid of me. Go figure.”

Charles was glad his parents’ relationship didn’t suffer after Pop lost his job of twenty years. The plummeting economy had caused his company to downsize, and he was part of a massive layoff. At first Pop had deluded himself into thinking he’d be in high demand, and it would only be a matter of time before some other company found out he was available and begged him to work for them. But that didn’t happen. Pop and Charles both had to take odd jobs just to pay the bills, and there were times when the Polk family worried the power would be shut off. Mom worked, but her income didn’t come close to covering the family’s bills.

After they got home and settled in the house, Mom went to her room to change and Pop mentioned some of the work they’d be doing on the Glick farm during the next several weeks. “I never realized how much work went into citrus farming. After we swap out some of the citrus trees, we have to work on the irrigation system to make sure it’s adequate for grapefruit.”

“Do you think Abe will be able to give me more hours?” Charles asked. “I only have Tuesday and Thursday classes this semester, so I can work an extra day.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Pop thought for a moment then amended his offer. “Why don’t you ask him if he can give you more hours? If not, maybe Jeremiah can. He’s talking about planting some summer crops. I suspect he would be happy to have another pair of hands.”

Mom joined them. “One of you needs to cook dinner on Wednesday. I’m going over to Esther Kauffman’s house for church instruction.”

Charles gave Pop a curious look before turning back to Mom. “That’s Ruthie’s mom, right?”

She grinned. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged a few seconds too late. “Just asking.”

Pop laughed. “You’ll be able to come home with some inside information on the girl. Maybe you can put in some good words for Charles.”

“Jonathan,” Mom said as she leveled Pop with one of her firm looks, “our son is perfectly capable of handling his own romance. He doesn’t need help from a couple of meddling parents.”

“After seeing some of the meddling among other people in the church, I think it might be good for Charles to have someone looking after his interests.”

“I’m standing right here, Pop. You don’t have to talk about me in the third person.”

Pop lifted his eyebrows with a look of amusement. “Then stop acting as though you don’t have a vested interest in your love life. Take action, Son.”

Charles opened his mouth to defend himself then thought better of it. Pop had enough on his mind already, between being behind on the mortgage payments and trying to make a decision about joining the Mennonite church.

Mondays were always busy for Ruthie. After a hectic Saturday and taking Sunday off, she had quite a bit of bookkeeping to catch up on. She generally spent most of the day in the office, so to get her out among people Papa occasionally had her work in Pinecraft Souvenirs, the family store, waiting on customers. Ruthie struggled with her shyness, and she found it difficult to talk to strangers. Fortunately most Mondays were slow.

Most of the customers were retired people—some were residents of Sarasota and others were on vacation. Ruthie didn’t mind the grandmotherly types who shopped for their grandchildren. She stayed behind the counter and let them browse.

She’d barely finished lunch and had gone out to work in the store until the late-afternoon sales clerk arrived when a group of women from the church stopped by. She knew all of them except one—Charles’s mother, Mrs. Polk, whom she’d seen in church a few times but hadn’t spoken to yet.

“May I help you?” Ruthie asked in her quiet voice. She kept her attention focused on Mrs. Penner.

Mrs. Polk stepped toward her and smiled. “We just finished a Bible study, and they insisted we come here.” The woman glanced over her shoulder at the other women. She smiled and whispered, “Now I know why.”

Ruthie’s lips twitched with nerves, but she managed a meager smile. “What are you looking for?”

Mrs. Burkholder glanced around and finally settled her gaze on Ruthie. “I’d like to pick something out for my grandkids.”