Sarasota Dreams

by Mayne, Debby

  “No harder than anything else I’ve ever done. And it’s something I can do and then come home and forget about it.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Pop agreed. “Ever since I’ve worked on the farm, I’ve slept like a baby.”

  Mom smiled at him. “That’s what I’m counting on. I’m tired of not sleeping at night. And at least now we’ll all have an income, so we should be able to keep our heads above water.”

  “We have to be careful though,” Pop reminded her. “Even with all three of us working, our income is still a fraction of what it was.”

  “Oh,” she said as she hung her purse on the hook by the door, “another perk is that I get to take home leftover desserts.”

  Charles grinned. “And they have the best desserts. Speaking of food, I want you two to sit down. Dinner is almost ready.”

  As she sat, Mom winked at Charles. “I could get used to this.”

  Pop said the blessing before Charles put the filled plates on the table. Mom took one bite of her chicken, closed her eyes, and visibly relaxed.

  Dinnertime conversation was quite a bit lighter than it had been since Mom lost her job. Charles sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

  Ruthie went to church early on Sunday to set up some tables for the potluck. Mom was still preparing the vegetable platter and casserole when she left.

  She arrived at the church, expecting to see only a few of the men who generally put the tables on the lawn. When she spotted Charles and his parents talking to the Penners, her breath caught in her throat. She’d managed to avoid Charles by getting lost in the crowd at church, but now, with just a few people there, it would be awkward.

  The second Charles spotted her, he left his parents and came toward her. There was no way she could even pretend not to see him.

  “I’ve missed you, Ruthie,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  “Maybe later. I have to cover the tables and set up the condiments for the potluck.”

  Charles lifted his hands. “I’ll help.”

  Each time they made eye contact or brushed hands, her heart hammered and her mouth went dry. There was no way she could deny the attraction she’d tried to push aside. After they finished their tasks, Charles brushed his hands together. “All done. See? When you have two people working, you can get everything done in half the time. Now can we talk?”

  She couldn’t very well say no so she nodded. Charles led her over to a bench beneath the shade tree on the edge of the church lawn.

  “I’m working full-time for Abe now,” he said.

  She looked him in the eye. “You quit school? For good?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Abe said I might want to go back later, but for now I’ve decided I prefer working on the farm all day.”

  “You’ve really taken to farming, haven’t you?”

  He nodded. “I love everything about it.”

  “Even more than being a clown?” she teased.

  “Way more than being a clown. It feels more like a calling from the Lord.”

  Ruthie studied his expression as he explained all the things he enjoyed about working on the farm—from the physical labor to the beauty of the land. There was no doubt in her mind that he was sincere.

  “Ruthie,” he said softly before pausing. When she met his gaze, he took one of her hands and covered it with his. “I really like you … a lot. Is there any way we can hang out more and see where our relationship can go?”

  Chapter 9

  She hadn’t expected such a direct question. “I … uh, I’ll have to talk to Mother and Papa.” She already knew her parents would be fine with her seeing Charles, as long as she did so in a cautious manner, but she’d already decided to back off.

  He nodded. “Of course I want to date you with their blessing. It wouldn’t be right to do it any other way.”

  Ruthie wondered if Charles was aware of the people who disapproved. But not everyone was against it. In fact, some of her parents’ friends who’d arrived at church early had seen her talking to Charles and were grinning. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the matchmaking resumed. And the heated discussions would continue.

  “I hear you’re having a birthday soon.” Charles met her gaze with a grin. “Would you like to do something special?”

  Ruthie had always had a quiet birthday dinner at home. “I don’t know what Mother and Papa have planned.”

  “I wouldn’t want to interfere with whatever it is, so perhaps you and I can go out on a different day?”

  His persistence flattered her, and she couldn’t resist her heart’s desire. “What would you want to do?” she asked. “I enjoyed the circus, but I don’t think I want to do that for my birthday.”

  Charles looked away then back at her. “To be honest, I’m not sure what all we’re allowed to do.”

  Ruthie’s heart warmed at his admission. “We could go on that picnic we talked about or …” She hesitated for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to go to an art gallery.”

  “Then let’s do that,” Charles said. “The Ringling Museum of Art is one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

  In spite of her resolve, Ruthie decided right then and there to throw caution to the wind. “I would love to go!”

  As soon as the words left Charles’s mouth, he regretted asking Ruthie to go to the Ringling Museum of Art. Money was tight, and although he’d never considered the admission price too high, it was money they needed to pay bills. But there was no way he could retract his offer now that he’d made it.

  They chatted a few more minutes until it was time to go into the church. Pop nudged him. “So how’s Ruthie?”

  Charles cleared his throat. “Fine.”

  Pop leaned away from Charles and narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong, Son? Did you two have an argument?”

  Charles didn’t want to mention his concern about asking Ruthie to do something he couldn’t afford. “No, we had a nice talk.” He gestured toward the pastor who had walked up to the front of the church.

  As they worshipped and prayed, Charles tried to focus on the service. Every once in a while a sense of dread washed over him. He couldn’t back out of his offer to take Ruthie to the art museum, but his family needed every penny he earned at the Glick farm, so he had to figure out something else.

  After church Mr. Penner chatted with Mom and Pop and said he was happy to have her working in his restaurant. The chasm between the groups who were for and against the Polk family joining the church had become wider and more obvious. Those who didn’t like the idea of outsiders becoming one of them walked a wide berth around all three of them, while those who welcomed them didn’t hesitate to surround them and offer prayers. Charles could see that these people weren’t as different from outsiders as he used to think.

  Charles sought out Ruthie after the service was over and asked if she would sit with him. Her brief hesitation made his stomach ache. He wanted her to feel something for him, and he was still confused by her reactions. Sometimes when he caught her looking at him, he thought she might feel an attraction, but other times—like now—he wondered if she was simply being kind.

  After the pastor said the blessing, everyone crowded around the buffet tables. Ruthie helped serve some of the children so Charles waited until she was ready to prepare her own plate. Together they walked to the picnic table farthest from the church.

  “Any idea who cooked the ham?” he asked.

  “Probably Mary. She generally brings the meat, and her grandparents bring desserts.”

  “It’s seasoned just right.” Charles tasted a few other things on his plate. “What did you bring?”

  “Mother made the vegetable casserole.” She glanced down at his plate before looking at him with a grin. “Looks like you’re not big on vegetables.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “You caught me. Mom used to have to puree my vegetables and put them in sauces, but I have gotten better.” He lifted a green bean from his plate. “See? I eat green stuff now.”

  Sh
e laughed aloud. “At least it’s a start. Here, try some of my mother’s casserole. It’s really good.” She scooped some of the food off her plate and put it on the edge of his. “Go on, try it.”

  He studied the blob of food and turned it over with his fork. “Are you sure it’s good?”

  “It just happens to be my favorite food.”

  “Okay, then in that case I’ll try it.” Charles slowly scooped some of the food and lifted it to his lips. “Down the hatch.” He put it into his mouth, chewed it, and grinned. “Yeah, for vegetables it’s not half bad. And coming from a veggie-phobic, that’s a compliment.”

  A shadow moved over the table so Charles spun around and saw that Jeremiah and Abe had joined them. “Don’t look now,” Jeremiah said, “but you two have half the congregation staring at you.”

  Naturally Charles looked up and saw that Jeremiah was right. “Um … yeah.”

  Abe sat down beside Charles. “Everyone is interested in what is going on between you two. Enjoying the food?”

  Charles cast a quick glance toward Ruthie whose cheeks were flaming red. He felt bad that she was so embarrassed, but at this point there was nothing he could do to change it.

  “Yes, the food is delicious. I even tried some vegetables and liked them.”

  Jeremiah gestured toward someone behind Charles. “Over here, Shelley.” He looked down at Charles. “Want me to bring you some dessert?”

  Ruthie hopped up. “I can get it. What would you like—pie, cake, or cookies?”

  “It all sounds good,” Charles said. “Bring me whatever you’re having.”

  Jeremiah’s wife, Shelley, and Abe’s wife, Mary, joined them and sat across the table from Charles. They instantly started chatting about the baby in Mary’s arms and the one Shelley was pregnant with. He was relieved he didn’t have to think of anything to say. Jeremiah talked quite a bit, too, but Abe was his usual silent self. He rarely had much to say, but when he spoke, most people listened. For as young as Abe was, Charles could see he garnered a tremendous amount of respect.

  For the first time in his life, Charles felt as though he was part of something big. He was surrounded by people who sincerely respected and cared about each other. But when he leaned over and glanced beyond the circle around him, he also saw the doubters—who sat there with pursed lips watching, waiting for the “intruders” to make some sort of misstep.

  Ruthie brought him a plate heaping with a variety of desserts—German chocolate cake, red velvet cake, two kinds of pies, and an oatmeal raisin cookie. He raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened.

  Jeremiah laughed. “Better get used to it. These women like to make sure their men are well fed.”

  Ruthie’s face once again turned bright red. Instead of making a big deal over the massive amount of dessert, Charles stabbed a piece of cake and tried it. “This is the best cake I ever had.”

  “Try the red velvet,” Jeremiah said. “You’ll like that even better.”

  Charles had no doubt he’d wind up putting on some weight, which he could stand to do. Most of his life he’d been too skinny anyway, in spite of all the food he put away.

  He lost track of time with Ruthie, Abe, Mary, Jeremiah, and Shelley, but eventually the crowd started to disperse. Some of the younger men began breaking down the tables so Charles and his new pals joined in. Ruthie, Mary, and Shelley scurried back and forth carrying bowls and casserole dishes to the kitchen, trying to stay a few steps ahead of the men.

  Finally it was time to leave. Ruthie’s parents had already gone home so she was there alone.

  “Would you like a ride home?” he asked. “I’m sure Mom and Pop won’t mind.”

  She nervously glanced around then shook her head. “Neh, I can walk.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Ya. I like to walk.”

  He watched her walk toward home before joining his parents, who stood near the car patiently waiting. Pop placed his hand on Charles’s shoulder, but neither Mom nor Pop said a word about Ruthie all the way home.

  Once they were in the house, Charles went straight to his room to try to figure out how he could afford to take Ruthie to the Ringling Museum of Art without sacrificing any of the money his family needed. His gaze settled on his sizable collection of video games. He instantly knew what he needed to do.

  It had been a while since he’d been on an Internet auction site, but it didn’t take long to list the first batch of items. Rather than list everything at one time, Charles decided to start with a couple dozen CDs and DVDs to see how they’d do. Some of them were rare, so he suspected he’d do well with them. By the time he finished, he already had bids on the first few. He sat back in his chair and stared at the computer screen. A year ago he couldn’t imagine himself considering giving up all his electronic gadgets. Now he was eager to move on to a simple life without all the distractions that prevented him from living in the moment and developing a stronger relationship with the Lord.

  Later that night as he and his parents sat at the kitchen table eating sandwiches, Pop asked him what he’d been doing all afternoon. “Once we got home, you disappeared.”

  “I went on an auction site and listed some of my stuff.” Charles noticed his parents exchanging a glance as he took another bite of his sandwich. He decided right then to let them in on what he was doing. There was no reason to keep it to himself. “I asked Ruthie to go to the Ringling Museum of Art for her birthday. I can use the money from the sales for that.”

  Mom’s forehead crinkled. “Are you sure you want to do that? I know how much you enjoy your music and movies.”

  Charles put his sandwich on the plate and leaned back in his chair. “I used to enjoy them, but this whole Mennonite thing …”

  Pop chuckled. “Yeah, this whole Mennonite thing has me shifting my priorities, too.”

  “I just hope I get enough to pay for our admission and take Ruthie out for dinner afterward.”

  Again, Mom and Pop looked at each other before Mom reached for his hand. “We appreciate everything you do, Charles. I don’t think we tell you often enough.”

  Warmth flooded Charles as he smiled back at her. “You are the best parents a guy could have.”

  “We’re not perfect parents though,” Mom reminded him.

  “Perfect parents would be boring.” Charles shoved the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and pushed his plate back. “After you’re done, why don’t you two go for a walk or something? I’ll do the dishes.”

  Pop jumped up from the table and pulled Mom to her feet. “Let’s go, Lori, before he changes his mind.”

  Once Charles was alone in the house, he did the dishes, wiped the countertops, and swept the kitchen floor. In the past, he dreaded the times when Mom asked him to do anything around the house, but now he actually enjoyed it. Once the kitchen was clean, he went to the doorway, turned around to see the fruits of his labor, and smiled. He couldn’t remember feeling better about his life.

  Ruthie met Rosemary on the sidewalk in front of the shop the next morning so they walked in together. Papa was already inside behind the counter, jotting something onto a notepad.

  He glanced up. “Ruthie, I need to talk to you for a few minutes. Rosemary, why don’t you mind the floor while my daughter and I meet in the office?”

  A panicked look crossed her face. “I … um … okay.”

  “If you need one of us, just knock on the door,” Ruthie said.

  Rosemary nodded. She turned her back so Ruthie couldn’t see her face anymore, but she knew Rosemary was miserable about being left alone on the sales floor.

  Once Papa came into the office and closed the door behind himself, he turned to Ruthie. “I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea for you to work for someone else for a while.”

  “But why?”

  Papa shrugged. “This is all you’ve ever been around. I think another job will give you more perspective.”

  “What kind of job?”

  “Rolf Fresh
will be opening a frozen yogurt shop soon, and he’s looking for part-time help.”

  Working in that environment sounded like a nightmare to Ruthie. Not only was she self-conscious out of her element, but she also tended to be klutzy when she was nervous. An image of accidentally dropping a cup or cone of frozen yogurt down a customer’s shirt made her shiver with horror.

  “I’ve never done anything like that before,” she argued.

  “That’s exactly why I want you to do it.” Papa pointed to the chair and waited for her to take a seat before he sat down. “I’m not saying you have to do it forever. I just want you to have more experience than you can get in this store and the housework you do at home. I told Rolf that you’ll be there tomorrow for an interview.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ruthie’s voice squeaked.

  “Ya.” Papa folded his arms. “You’ll start next week—that is, if he thinks you can do the work.”

  All Ruthie could do was nod. After Papa dismissed her, she walked back out to the sales floor where Rosemary remained behind the counter while a couple of customers browsed. Relief replaced Rosemary’s panic when she saw Ruthie and her papa coming out of the office.

  Since Ruthie was certain her new job was inevitable, she had Rosemary do all the bookwork while she supervised. Papa spent some time telling Rosemary a few simple phrases to use with customers until she became more comfortable.

  After lunch, Papa asked Rosemary if she could stay an extra hour. She nodded but Ruthie could tell her heart wasn’t in it. Ruthie wondered if Rosemary was as miserable as she was.

  By Wednesday, Charles had made enough money off his auctions to take Ruthie to the Ringling Museum of Art and to dinner wherever she wanted to go. And he had money leftover that he could give his parents. He was eager to make plans, but now that he worked every day at the farm, he didn’t have time. At least he could tell his parents the good news.

  “You don’t have to give us the money,” Pop said. “Keep it for yourself.”

  “No, Pop. That wouldn’t be right. I’m part of this family, too, and I want to share in the responsibility.”