Sarasota Dreams

by Mayne, Debby

  After lunch was ready, Shelley sent William to let their mother know. She opened the back door, stepped out onto the patio, and called for her father. He looked up from where he’d been sitting since they’d gotten home, a sadness in his eyes like she’d never seen before.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Shelley,” William said. “Mother said she’s not hungry.”

  She pondered what to do before turning off the stove and oven. “Let me go talk to her. Why don’t you go ahead and set the table?”

  Shelley tiptoed to their mother’s bedroom door and knocked. There was no answer, so she slowly turned the knob and opened the door to the darkened room. She could see the silhouette of her mother sitting in a chair, back straight, head bowed.

  “Mother?”

  “What?” Her mother glanced up, but the room was too dark to tell if she’d been crying.

  “Lunch is ready. Are you not feeling well?”

  “I already told William I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat something,” Shelley argued.

  “Just have William bring me a plate of food when he’s finished with his.”

  “I’d really like for the family to eat together,” Shelley said. “It’s Sunday, and I think it’s good for all of us to be together on the Lord’s day.”

  “We can’t all be together. Paul is gone, and I’m worried you’re going to run off and do something stupid.”

  “Mother, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “Something is different about you lately, Shelley. I think it has something to do with Jeremiah. I keep thinking you’ll decide not to come home one day, and then what?”

  Shelley took a few steps closer to her mother. “Is that what’s upsetting you?”

  “What is happening to our family?”

  “Mother, our family is fine. I’m not about to leave, and Paul lives close enough that he can be here within a few minutes if we need him.”

  Silence fell between them. Shelley had no idea what to say to her mother, but she didn’t want to leave her alone.

  “I always imagined all my children getting married some day and living nearby in Pinecraft, raising my grandchildren in the church. Now that it’s not happening, I’m left to wonder what will become of the lot of us.”

  “When—if—I ever get married, I’ll live close to you and Father. And if the Lord blesses me with children, they’ll grow up in the church.”

  “And then there’s William. Who will take care of him after your father and I are gone?”

  Shelley closed the distance between herself and her mother. She reached down and took her mother’s hand in hers. “You know that I will always make sure William has a home and all his needs are taken care of. The Lord doesn’t want us to be anxious about the future, so please stop worrying.”

  “I know I’m not supposed to worry.”

  “We’re not supposed to worry, but I think it’s something we all do as humans.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Shelley took a chance and tugged at her mother, hoping she’d rise to join the rest of the family in the kitchen. She held her breath for a few seconds until her mother gave in and followed.

  William had the table set, with all the food in serving bowls on the table. Their father stood at the head of the table, bent over his chair, appearing to be praying. He glanced up and looked at Shelley. “I’ll say the blessing for our meal.”

  As he prayed, Shelley forced herself to focus on his words and not on her mother, who stood rigidly by her chair. Finally, her father sat down, waited for the rest of the family to sit, picked up a platter, put a small amount of chicken on his plate, and passed it to William.

  Although Mother had been through short bouts of this bad mood throughout Shelley’s life, she seemed to be getting worse. After dinner, Shelley found a way to whisper to her father and ask if they could talk. He looked at her a moment and then nodded.

  “Shelley and I are going for a walk,” her father said. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  Mother gave them a quizzical look and then turned back around without saying a word. Shelley dreaded having to explain later.

  Once they reached the edge of the block, Father slowed down. “What is on your mind, Shelley?”

  “I’m worried about Mother. She seems to be getting worse lately.”

  “Ya. I agree.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I never know what to say to her.”

  “I’d like to talk with the pastor about it.”

  “Neh. Not a good idea. Your mother would be very unhappy with that kind of attention.”

  “But she needs help,” Shelley argued. “And we obviously can’t do anything to fix whatever is wrong with her.”

  “We can continue to pray.” He cleared his throat. “That is what I’ve been doing.”

  “So have I.”

  “While you’re at it, pray that Paul will come back to the church. Your mother blames Tammy for his leaving, but he was always so strong-willed, I doubt Tammy has anything to do with it.”

  This was the most conversation Shelley could remember having with her father since becoming an adult. “Ya, I’ll pray for Paul, Tammy, and the children. I would like to see Lucy and Grady more often.”

  “So would I.” Father placed his hand on Shelley’s back and gently turned her around. “We need to go back home, or your mother will worry.” He smiled. “In her frame of mind, I don’t want to give her anything else to worry about.”

  William met them at the door when they got back home. “I want dessert, and Mother says I have to wait for the rest of the family.”

  Father grinned. “Then let’s have dessert.”

  “Who wants lemon cake?” Shelley asked as she made a beeline for the kitchen. “Mr. Penner sent me home with some on Friday, and I saved it for today.”

  “I like lemon cake,” William said. “So does Mother.”

  “I’ll have a small slice,” their father said.

  Shelley cut the cake into slices, including one for her mother, taking a chance that she’d have a little. She set them down in front of each family member and then carried hers to the table and sat down.

  William devoured his, and her father ate his slowly. Her mother stared down at it but didn’t lift her fork.

  “This is very good, Mother. Mrs. Penner made several of them, and all the customers raved about it.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  The sound of a chair crashing to the floor startled Shelley. She turned toward her father and saw that he was standing, glaring at her mother, the chair tipped over on the floor behind him. Even he looked surprised at his own outburst.

  “Melba, the least you can do is take a bite. Can’t you see how hard Shelley’s trying to cheer you up?”

  “Father—”

  He held up a hand to shush her. “No, I need to say this. We love you, Melba, and it pains all of us to see you in this state. You need to feel the blessings of what you do have rather than mope around for what you think you don’t have. Otherwise, you’ll drive our daughter away, just like you—” He stopped himself, tightened his jaw, and glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please just stop dwelling on the negative. We have two beautiful grown children still living here.”

  The sound of Shelley’s heart pounding equaled the impact of her father’s outburst. “Mother, if you’re not hungry …”

  “I–I’ll try to eat a little bit of cake,” her mother whispered as she picked up her fork and stabbed at the golden yellow dessert in front of her.

  Jeremiah drove Abe and Mary home. They’d invited him for Sunday lunch, which made him very happy. His parents had welcomed him back into their home, but he liked giving them some quiet time alone.

  Mary made small talk from the backseat, but Jeremiah’s mind was on Shelley and her family. Their sad expressions had touched his heart, and he wondered what was going on. He suspected it might have something to do with him, but he didn’t want t
o be presumptuous and assume anything. After all, his mother had reminded him the world didn’t revolve around him. The thought of that made him smile.

  “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Mary asked.

  “Um …” Jeremiah glanced in his rearview mirror and caught her knowing gaze. “I’m sorry, Mary. My thoughts today are taking me somewhere else.”

  Mary nodded. “I thought so. Is it Shelley?”

  Abe turned and looked at his wife over his shoulder. “Jeremiah might not want to share his private thoughts, Mary.”

  “No, that’s okay. I need to be more transparent. One of the things I’ve learned is that I have to accept accountability to other believers.” Jeremiah pondered how to form his thoughts into words before continuing. “Did you notice how sad Shelley’s family seemed in church this morning?”

  “Sometimes people get sad,” Abe said. “I’m sure they have their reasons.”

  “Oh, Abe, it’s not that simple,” Mary said. “Yes, Jeremiah, I did notice. I think something might be wrong with Mrs. Burkholder.”

  “Do you think she’s sick?” Jeremiah asked.

  Mary shook her head, shrugged, and frowned. “I don’t know. Perhaps I should talk to Shelley about it.”

  Abe turned around again. “That might not be such a good idea. If Shelley wants to discuss her family, she’ll do it in her own time.”

  Jeremiah listened to his friends discuss what Mary should do. As they spoke, he became more convinced than ever that Shelley had some deep troubles that no one would ever know about unless someone who cared about her—someone she trusted—pried it out of her. And the only person he thought might be able to do that was Mary.

  “No disrespect, Abe, but I think that it might help if Mary offered to pray for whatever is bothering Shelley.”

  Abe’s expression was vague, but after a few seconds he slowly nodded. “If it is done in the correct way, it might be a good idea. Would you mind doing that, Mary?”

  Again, Jeremiah looked at Mary’s reflection in the mirror. She looked back at him and smiled. “I’ll do what I can. Shelley has always been there for me.”

  Jeremiah turned onto the road leading to the Glick farm. A sense of peace washed over him as he realized how far he’d come from the life he’d transgressed to right after he got out of school. “This is a beautiful piece of property, Abe.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Would you ever consider having your own farm someday?”

  “That would be nice, but property is very expensive these days. I’m not sure if or when I’ll ever be able to afford to have my own place.”

  “Pray about it,” Abe advised. “You might discover an opportunity that you never thought possible.”

  Mary let out a chuckle. “Come on, Abe, why don’t you tell Jeremiah what we’ve been discussing?”

  “Maybe later.”

  Jeremiah pulled to a stop in front of the old farmhouse, put the car in Park, and turned toward Abe. “What is Mary talking about?”

  Mary got out of the car and waited for the men. They started walking toward the house when she turned to face them. “You two go talk while I get lunch on the table. It’ll be about half an hour.”

  Abe grinned at his wife then turned to face Jeremiah. “My wife is a wise woman, and she doesn’t believe in waiting for things.”

  Jeremiah ran his fingers through his hair. “Both of you are talking in riddles. Since you’ve decided to let me in on this one, let’s talk now. I’m with Mary on not liking to wait.”

  Chapter 5

  They walked past the barn toward a field that had obviously not been worked in years. Jeremiah looked out over the flat terrain before turning to face Abe, who shielded his eyes. “What do you think about all that land?”

  “It looks good,” Jeremiah replied. “Why? Are you thinking about planting some crops on it?”

  “Been thinking about it.”

  “Any idea what you want to plant?”

  Abe shook his head, removed his hand from his face, and looked Jeremiah directly in the eye. “It’s all up to you.”

  “Me?” Now Abe was back to talking in riddles, and Jeremiah had no idea how to figure out this one.

  “Ya, I’d like to sell it to you.”

  Jeremiah let out a nervous laugh. “If I had two spare nickels to rub together, I’d consider trying to find a way to buy it, but I can’t afford to right now—at least not until my debt is paid off.”

  “This land has been sitting here for years. It’s a shame to let it go to waste. Mary and I have been talking about a way for you to buy it, and she actually came up with a good idea. I’ll put you to work on it and let you have one of the men who helped remove the barn to work for you. Whatever crops you plant will be yours, but the land will continue to be mine. As you turn a profit, you can pay me for working it. You should do well with the hundred acres I want to sell you.”

  “A hundred acres?”

  Abe offered a clipped nod. “Ya. That’s what we have here.”

  “I appreciate it, Abe, but that’s way too generous.”

  Abe shrugged. “Not really. That land is just sitting there doing nothing. If you work it, once the harvest comes in I won’t have to pay your salary since you’ll be making money off the crops. You will also pay the man who helps you.”

  “But before the crops come in, I’ll have to work another job.”

  “Ya, you’ll continue to work for me. I’m sure I’ll have plenty for you to do around here, but when you’re finished for the day, you’ll go over and tend your own crops.” He gave Jeremiah a serious look. “You will have to work very long hours, but since you’ve been with me, I can tell you are able to do that.”

  Jeremiah looked back over the land, this time from a different perspective. All that land could be his if he said yes. It sure was a nice proposition.

  “When do you want an answer?”

  Abe gave him a puzzled look. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I should probably consider it,” Jeremiah said.

  “What is there to consider? You want land, and I’m offering you a good deal on a hundred fertile acres that I can’t use. You will be able to repay your debt much more quickly with your own crops.”

  Indeed. Jeremiah had become so conditioned to look for the other person’s ulterior motive, he’d been afraid to give Abe a quick decision.

  He pondered the pros and cons of taking Abe up on his offer. Mary hollered that lunch was ready, and Abe let her know they’d be right there.

  Abe gestured toward the house. “Let’s go eat. Mary always puts a lot of work into cooking, and I don’t want to act like I don’t appreciate her.”

  “Good move.” Jeremiah fell into step beside Abe, and they walked in silence for about a hundred yards. Before they reached the house, Jeremiah had made up his mind. “I’ll do it. I mean, if you are serious about wanting to do this deal for the land, I’d like to take you up on it.”

  Abe leveled him with a serious glare. “I am always serious about any offer I make.” Then he relaxed.

  “Yes, I know that, and I’m serious, too. This is probably the best opportunity I’ll ever have, and it’s definitely something I want to do.”

  “Good. I’m glad you want to have your own crops. I always thought it was such a waste not to do something with that land. Some commercial developers have offered me more money than I’d ever need in my lifetime, but I thought the land could be put to much better use than what they were proposing.” He shook his head. “Converting farmland so close to my home could turn out to be a disaster.”

  “We’ll be neighbors for life,” Jeremiah pointed out.

  “Ya, that is true.”

  If Jeremiah had ever doubted his decision to come back to the church he’d so abruptly left years ago, that was erased by Abe’s simple statement. “Thank you, Abe. I’ll do everything I can not to let you down.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I have faith that you’ll find the right crop to wor
k.”

  Jeremiah noticed the glance between Abe and Mary and then the twinkle in her eye when she realized he’d taken them up on their offer. A broad smile covered her lips as she gestured toward the table. “Jeremiah, why don’t you say the blessing today?”

  After the “amen,” Mary handed Jeremiah the platter of sliced ham. He piled his plate with a couple of slices, a heaping spoon of scalloped potatoes, green beans, and fresh tomatoes. Abe spoke very little, except to tell Jeremiah some of the crops he’d considered for the property.

  “But it’s ultimately up to you,” he added. “I don’t want to interfere in your business decisions.”

  Jeremiah blotted his mouth with the cloth napkin and placed it back on his lap. “I like the idea of lemons, tomatoes, and peppers.”

  “We know those will do well. After you establish your crops, you can experiment with different varieties and perhaps add new plants as you get comfortable,” Abe said. He turned to Mary. “What is for dessert?”

  “In honor of our celebration, I made two desserts—coconut cake and peanut butter pie from my grandmother’s recipe.”

  “I would like some of both,” Abe said. “How about you, Jeremiah?”

  Still feeling as though he was floating from Abe’s offer, he nodded as he patted his belly. “I might regret it later, but that sounds good. I’d hate to have to decide between those two options.”

  “Good!” Mary hopped up from the table to cut the pie and cake. She came back with dinner-size plates for the men, and then she went back to the counter to cut herself a small slice of pie.

  “This is excellent, Mary,” Jeremiah said after taking a bite of each dessert. “Your grandmother taught you well.”