Authors: Debby Mayne
Grandpa motioned for them to join him at the table. “I believe she knows what the Lord wants, Sarah. We need to trust our Mary. She’s a good girl.”
Although Mary was happy Grandpa defended her, he was the one who’d started this to begin with. Mama’s words kept ringing in her ears.
Men can’t be trusted. They only come around when they want something
.
“Mary?” Grandpa tilted his head forward and lifted his eyebrows. “The blessing.”
Grandpa took her hand, gave Mary’s fingers an extra gentle squeeze, and winked at her. She forced a smile and lowered her head. As he said the blessing, she tried to push Abe’s image from her mind—but it was impossible.
As soon as they filled their plates, Grandpa started talking about how busy they’d been with the summer crowd lately. “It’s starting early this year. I’d planned to add more to my food orders in another month, but it looks like I need to do it this week.”
“I can stay later in the afternoons,” Grandma offered.
“That would be good.” Grandpa turned to face Mary. “Anyone you knew in school who might need a job?”
Mary slowly shook her head as she wondered why he’d even bother to ask. Both Grandma and Grandpa knew that very few of the people she knew in school would give her more than a few passing words.
“Ya, I didn’t think so.” Grandpa took a bite of his yeast roll and chewed as he thought about it. “Perhaps we can ask some people at church tomorrow. Eleanor is working out very well, but it’s difficult for her to manage the kitchen while she’s on the floor taking orders.”
“Good idea,” Grandma said. “This is potluck Sunday, so we’ll be there longer.”
Mary always felt out of place at the church potluck, and she dreaded the second Sunday of every month. After the service everyone gathered outside, unless it was too hot or rainy. Then they’d meet in the fellowship hall instead. No one was outright mean to Mary. In fact, some of the older members were very polite, but the people her age had maintained their old habit of ignoring her.
Abe had been to a couple of the dinners since he’d been back from college. She wondered if he’d be there tomorrow. A sliver of hope was dashed by dread at the thought of Grandma’s eagle eyes watching her talk to Abe, waiting to pounce if she stepped the slightest bit out of line.
After dinner Mary told her grandparents that she could clean up the kitchen alone. “It’s your turn to go for a walk with Grandma,” she said to Grandpa.
He laughed and rubbed his belly. “Ya, that’s probably a good idea after such a hearty meal.”
As soon as they left the house, Mary scurried around the kitchen, washing dishes and cleaning all the counters and the table. She wanted to be done with all the work when they got back.
Abe got up early and made sure all the cows were fed before going back inside to get ready for church. One of his workers had set up a table at the farmer’s market in town yesterday, and he’d left the money by the back door. Abe was pleased by the fact that everything had sold. This looked like it would be a busy tourist season, which he thanked the Lord for after hearing about the past two seasons being so lean.
He intended to go to the potluck after church with the hope of talking to Mary. So far his plan to pique her interest seemed to be working. Perhaps over a slice of one of her grandmother’s delicious pies, they could find some common ground and maybe he’d get a step or two closer to breaking down her wall.
Mary Penner was quite a challenge, which would have had his mother asking if that was her appeal. Abe remembered his mother’s spunk. She never backed down from anyone, and she always had a quick quip. Dad had married the same type of woman Abe knew he wanted.
With a chuckle and a lighter step, Abe dressed in his Sunday finest trousers, a white shirt, and a vest he’d pulled out from the back of the closet. The one he wore last week had become frayed from age.
He stepped out on the front porch in time to see the cloud of dust billowing as his ride turned onto his property. David was right on time. As soon as the car stopped, Abe ambled over and got into the passenger seat. He snapped the seat belt in place.
“I appreciate you picking me up again, David. I know it’s a lot to ask a man to work on Sunday.”
“My pleasure. I’m starting to feel like we’re old friends.”
Abe adjusted his shirt and vest as David pulled onto the asphalt beyond the long driveway. His mother had made him this shirt years ago, but he hadn’t worn it much because she wanted him to save it for something special.
David glanced at him then turned back to face the road. “You look nice, Abe. New duds?”
“Same kind of thing I always wear.” Abe kept his focus straight ahead.
“Right.” David snickered. “Will she be there?”
“If you’re talking about Mary, yes, I imagine she will be. I don’t think she or her grandparents ever miss church.”
“My wife always goes to church, and sometimes I go with her to make her happy.”
Abe turned to face David. “That seems strange to me. Why wouldn’t you want to go all the time?”
David shrugged. “It’s just not my thing.”
“What if the Lord were to think the same of you?”
As they came to a stop sign, David nodded. “Good point. I never really thought about it like that.”
“If you only do what is … your
thing
, then some of the important things might not get done.” Abe paused, and when David didn’t say anything, he continued. “God created us and gave us these lives, so why wouldn’t we show our appreciation and worship Him as He instructed us to?”
David grinned. “Have you been talking to my wife? You sound just like her.”
“Your wife is obviously a wise woman. Maybe you should listen to her more.”
“I think I just might do that. In fact, I’m going to go straight home after I drop you off and tell her I’m going to church with her. She might fall over dead from shock.”
“Or jump up and down with joy,” Abe countered.
“That would be good. Thanks, buddy. I think you’re good for me.”
“The Lord puts people into our lives for a reason. You and I are good for each other.”
“Yeah, we are.” David stopped the van in front of the church, where several families had already gathered. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Mind if I call? I plan to stay for the potluck afterward, and that can go on for a while.”
“That’s fine. I’ll make sure I turn my cell phone on after I get out of church so I don’t miss your call. I’ll be taking a few people home right after church, but I should be available.”
Abe got out, closed the door, and waved to David before turning and walking toward the church. Ruthie, one of the girls from school who was still single, shyly lifted her hand in a greeting as he approached the front door.
“Hi, Ruthie. Nice day, eh?”
“Ya, it’s a very nice day.” Her sister standing behind her nudged her, causing her to lose her balance.
Abe reached out and gave her a steadying hand. “Whoa there, Ruthie.”
Ruthie looked flustered as she glanced back at her sister, who stood there grinning. “Thank you, Abe. I—”
“Hi there, Abe!” a deep voice from behind bellowed.
Abe turned around to see Joseph Penner, followed by his wife, Sarah, and Mary trailing behind. He was sure Mary saw him, but she didn’t look him in the eye.
“Excuse me, Ruthie, but I want to talk to someone.”
“Ya, it was good seeing you, Abe.”
As he walked away from Ruthie, he overheard her sister asking why she didn’t say more. Ruthie was a nice girl, but she didn’t have the ability to send his senses soaring the way Mary did.
Joseph stopped in front of Abe, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder, where Mary stood fidgeting with the folds of her skirt. Abe wanted to step past Mary’s grandparents and talk to her, but he wasn’t about to be rude.
“So how’s the farm coming along?” Joseph asked.
“Bumper crop. Cows are all producing. Couldn’t be better.” Abe’s gaze locked with Mary’s, and he saw a tiny twitch of amusement. His mouth suddenly went dry.
“That’s good. The Glick farm has always been a good producer.”
“Let me know what you need for the restaurant, and I’ll make sure you have it.”
“Thank you. You’re a fine man, Abe.”
Abe flashed a polite smile at Joseph before leaning around to look at Mary. “Will you be staying for the potluck, Mary?”
“Yes,” she replied. “What else do you think I’d be doing?”
“Mary!” Sarah glared at her granddaughter before shaking her head as she looked at Abe. “I apologize for my granddaughter.”
“Oh that’s quite all right. I understand.”
Mary narrowed her eyes as her lips puckered. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Abe not to laugh.
“We best be getting inside,” Joseph said. “You and Mary can talk later.”
Throughout the service, Abe cast occasional glances Mary’s way. Once or twice he thought he might have caught her looking back at him, but she’d become a master of avoidance. He understood, based on her past and all, but he wished he could break through her shell enough for her to trust him. That was his first goal, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
After the sermon, some children went up front and sang a cappella. The sweetness of their voices moved Abe. When he glanced at Mary, his heart melted at the sight of tears glistening in her eyes, obviously the result of her emotions tugging at her as his did him.
Mary’s heart ached at the memory of her own childhood and how much she missed out on. Instead of being here with other children, singing, she’d been darting about, running away from men with her mother. Sunday mornings had been the only time they’d spent together, but never in church. A few times Mama had tried to explain who God was, but her attempts were awkward. Until Mary came here to live with Grandma and Grandpa, all she’d thought about God was that He was cruel, and His only intent was to punish anyone who strayed from the very narrow path He’d laid before them.
Abe’s lingering gaze did little to quell her sadness. He’d been just like those children, singing his heart out for the Lord while the adults listened with rapt attention. All this did was serve as another reminder of why she and Abe weren’t meant to be together. No matter what Grandma and Grandpa said, Mary still didn’t quite fit in. But she wasn’t cut out for her former life either.
Mary still felt like an island—so alone and without anyone who could see how much she hurt inside. And she didn’t dare let anyone know, in case her mother had been right. When she was younger, she thought that if anyone had any idea of all she’d seen, she’d be cast out of the community and never allowed back in. Now that she was older and realized she wasn’t being shunned, all she felt was shame.
Grandma and Grandpa loved her. They knew her mother had done some bad things, and they even knew what some of those things were. But if they had any idea how much unmentionable decadence Mary had been exposed to, even they would have reason to pause before letting her into their home. She’d covered for her mother by lying to bosses and other men. They’d run away in the middle of the night a couple of times, and once when a man came looking for her mother asking for money he said she’d stolen, Mary had told him a string of lies to make him go away. Mary shuddered. She’d been an accessory to many evils that she never wanted anyone to know about. But the Lord knew, so she’d never be able to completely escape her shame.
Grandpa tried to show a soft side with her, but Grandma’s sternness was real and there all the time. Mama had loved Mary, but she obviously didn’t have the judgment or discernment she needed to take care of a child. As much as Mary loved Mama, she wished she’d started out with the safety and shelter she now knew.
Abe caught her attention and smiled. She tried to smile back, but her chin quivered, and she had to look away.
Mary was relieved when the children finished the last of their songs. Music stirred her spirit to the point of dredging up even more of her past than she wanted to remember. After the singing was over and the pastor ended the service, everyone filed outside where the men had set up the tables and Grandma and a few of the other women had begun arranging the food. Mary tried to stay invisible as she helped.