Mary tried her best to hide the lump in her throat. What Abe just described was exactly what had happened to her mother. He continued shaking his head. “I would never want to say mean things to you, even when you aren’t nice to me. I understand—”
She reached up and gently touched his lips. “Don’t.”
Before she had a chance to retract her hand, he reached for her wrist and held her fingers to his lips. Her heart hammered as he kissed her fingertips, one by one, until her knees almost buckled beneath her.
Abe’s expression was tender as he looked down at her. Mary’s dry mouth prevented her from speaking at first. She yanked her hand back and covered it with her other hand.
“I’m sorry, Mary.” He grimaced then shook his head. “No, I’m not. I take that back. I’m not sorry in the least.”
Mary managed to find her voice. “So what was that all about, Abe? Were you trying to distract me? Or are you in cahoots with Jeremiah and his buddies?”
“No. Never. I have nothing to do with Jeremiah.”
“I don’t think that’s so good either.” Mary shoved her fist on her hip and leaned away from Abe.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“So you believe in shunning people who leave the church?”
“Don’t be so touchy, Mary.” Abe widened his eyes as he took a step closer to her. Before she had a chance to react, he reached out and closed his fingers around her wrist again. “I never said that I believe in shunning. What I do believe in is doing what is right and standing up for someone I care about. I can’t let someone say such things about you, Mary.” He bent his elbow toward her and placed her hand back in the crook of his arm where it had been. “Come on. We’re supposed to be walking on the beach, and that’s what I intend to do.”
Mary’s confusion deepened. She wanted to appreciate Abe’s chivalry, but she still didn’t know why he’d bother with her when there were plenty of other Mennonite girls who would love to be with him.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked as they stepped off the sidewalk onto the warm sand.
“What makes you think anything is on my mind?”
Abe rubbed her knuckles with his other hand. “That’s my girl. I like when you answer my questions with a question of your own.”
She paused at his comment, That’s my girl. “But why?”
He beamed down at her. “You make me think. I like to be with people who make me think.”
“Sometimes thinking is overrated.” She stumbled over some uneven sand, and he quickly reached around to steady her. “I can be so clumsy.”
“It may be overrated to you, but it keeps our minds sharp. And you are not clumsy—just a little unsteady, having trouble navigating the sand today.”
Yeah, she was unsteady, but it had nothing to do with the sand. It was all about the butterflies flapping around in her abdomen every time Abe touched her or looked at her with those light brown eyes with golden flecks that sparkled in the late-afternoon sun.
They walked about a quarter mile before Abe tugged on Mary. “Let’s take a break. I want to slow down and enjoy our time together.” He tucked his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up.
Her stomach lurched, and she stepped back. Another tender moment would send her senses to a place she wasn’t ready to go. She had to change the mood—quickly. “There’s something else I don’t understand, Abe. You went away to college and got your degree in business. What do you plan to do with your education?”
He shrugged. “I s’pose I’m doing it.”
“Working on the farm? You didn’t have to go to college to do that. You could go into business if you wanted to.”
“What business?”
“Banking?” She couldn’t think of anything else.
“Neh, not banking. I like farming. Besides, who says I’m not in business? I run one of the biggest and most productive dairy farms on the west coast of Florida. I’ve managed to convert the last of the celery crops to citrus, and we expect to have our best yield next season.”
Mary was impressed, but her insides still swirled from Abe’s nearness, making it difficult to hold an intelligent conversation. She extended her foot and glided it across the sand, smoothing out a section.
“Do you want to walk some more or sit down for a while?” he asked.
“Um … I didn’t bring anything to sit on.”
Abe laughed. “That didn’t stop you before. You sat right down on the sand.”
Yeah, but she didn’t have anything to risk … like her heart. “This is a nicer skirt than the one I wore yesterday.”
“Ya, I s’pose you should think about your skirt.” Abe held her gaze as a suppressed grin twitched the corners of his lips.
She swatted at him. “Let’s walk.”
“Ouch.” He feigned being injured. “Apparently you didn’t know we Mennonites are opposed to violence.”
“If that hurt, you’re a bigger sissy than I ever thought, Abe.”
He pulled his straw hat down a little in the front. “No one ever calls Abe Glick a sissy.”
Mary tossed him a playful glance then took off running. “Sissy, sissy, sissy! Abe Glick is a sissy!”
“Oh, you.” He ran after her and quickly caught her in his arms.
As he pulled her close, she knew running had been a big mistake. Abe had never been one to back away from a challenge, and he’d never let her get away. It took him about two seconds to catch her in his strong arms, but his grip was very gentle. He was stubborn but not mean. His Mennonite heritage ran deep with Abe—all the way to his core.
When Abe turned her around, everything outside their bubble of closeness was blurry. She wanted him to kiss her, but she wasn’t ready to put herself in such a vulnerable position. A memory of her mother being fondled by one of the many faceless men in her life flashed through her mind. Panic overrode her desire, so she yanked away and nearly threw herself onto the sand as she popped out of his grip.
“What happened, Mary?” The look of concern on Abe’s face tweaked her heart. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Yes, but not like you think.”
“Why do you talk in circles? Either I hurt you, or I didn’t. I asked a direct question, and I expect a direct answer.”
“Too bad.” Mary tucked the loose strands of hair back beneath her kapp. “I don’t have any answers to give.”
“Why do you continue to shut people out, Mary?”
“I’m not the one shutting people out. In case you haven’t figured it out, other people have already made up their minds about me, and there’s nothing I can do to change them.”
“Maybe you’re imagining some of it.”
“I don’t think so.” She folded her arms.
He glanced at her arms then looked her in the eye. “Perhaps people are afraid to get close to you because you are so standoffish. Perhaps your shame made you that way?”
“What? I am not standoffish.” She unfolded her arms and lifted her hands. “I’m as open as the next person.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Oh you are, are you?”
“Never mind. You’d have to be me to understand.” She took a step back.
His once-rigid shoulders sagged. “You confuse me.”
Not as much as she confused herself. All she knew was how the flood of emotion when she was around Abe rendered her incapable of logical thinking. She opened her mouth to respond, but she had no idea what to tell him, so she shook her head and lifted her hands before letting them fall back to her sides, slapping her skirt.
They studied each other for a moment before Mary looked down at the sand. Abe took a few steps toward the water, his hands in his pockets, his hat tipped low in front. She had a brief flashback to what Jeremiah had hollered as he drove past them honking. Did Abe really like her, or did he have an ulterior motive in wanting to be with her?
She remembered Mama saying once that everyone wanted something. Was Abe looking to take a “walk on the wild side,” as Jeremiah had so crudely put it? Or did Abe feel sorry for her? These were questions she had to ask herself, and she’d never be satisfied until she knew the answers.
“Abe?” She squared her shoulders and tried to put on a brave front.
He spun around and took a couple of steps toward her. “Ya?”
Mary licked her parched lips. As he looked into her eyes, her bravery faded. She offered a closed-mouth grin. “Never mind.”
Abe awkwardly offered his arm, but she pretended not to notice. He quickly retracted. “Ready to head back now?”
“Yeah.” Mary turned to face the water before adding, “You should call David now.”
“That’s exactly what I’m about to do.”
Mary heard Abe let David know they were ready for him to come pick them up. After he flipped his cell phone shut, she remained standing with her back to him.
“If I knew what I did wrong, I could apologize.”
“You did nothing wrong. Where is David picking us up?”
“Where he dropped us off,” Abe replied. “He said he’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Then we best get going.”
Since they hadn’t gone far, they were able to saunter back. Quite a few people—most of them tourists—stared at them. Mary thought she was used to it, but now it bothered her. She didn’t like feeling like a sideshow. She wanted to be accepted for who she was deep down—not for something she was trying to be. The problem was that she wasn’t sure who she was.
David was waiting for them when they arrived. “Glad you finished up early. The wife called and said to come home as early as possible.”
“It’s always a good idea to make the wife happy,” Abe said as he helped Mary into the van.
David chuckled. “That’s a wise comment coming from a single man.”
This discussion made Mary very uncomfortable. After buckling her seat belt, she shifted and faced the window. Abe left the seat next to her empty, and he took the one by the opposite window. She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but she enjoyed having him close. His quiet strength gave her a sense that nothing bad could happen.
Instead of chatting, David turned up the music a little louder. The oldies song on the radio brought her back to a time she constantly tried to forget. Good thing they didn’t have far to go.
The van slowed down a few feet from the walkway to the restaurant. “Nice meeting you, Mary.”
She smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Could you wait here a minute while I walk Mary inside?” Abe asked.
David glanced at his watch then nodded. “Take your time. I don’t think a few minutes will make that much difference since you called so early.”
Mary got out and turned to face Abe. “You don’t have to walk me inside. I know the way.”
“But I want—”
“No, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She realized her tone was harsher than she intended, but she didn’t feel like apologizing. Seemed lately she spent a lot of time explaining herself, and she was getting tired of it.
“Yes, I’m sure you can, Mary, and you may have your way this time.” He tilted her head up to face him. “But remember that I don’t give up easily.”
Mary turned her back and walked toward the restaurant, knowing Abe watched her. As soon as she was inside, she heard the van door slam. Grandpa stood there waiting, but he didn’t say a word. All he did was nod as she breezed past to get her things.
She started to go out the back door to her three-wheeler, but then she decided to go ahead and get the discussion over with. She put her tote on the counter and plodded toward the front of the restaurant.
“We had a very nice time at the beach, Grandpa,” she said.
“Good.” He grinned and widened his stance. “So will you be going out with Abe again soon?”
“I doubt it.”
A frown replaced his smile. “Did he say anything inappropriate?”
“No, Grandpa. We’re just both very busy people with not enough time.”
“Don’t say that, Granddaughter. You have to make time for what is important in life. What are you, twenty-two?”
“Twenty-three,” she corrected.
“Old enough to fall in love, get married, and have children of your own.”
“I’m not ready for anything that serious, Grandpa. I’m comfortable living with you and Grandma, and working here makes me very happy. I get to serve people who appreciate it.”
“Ya. And you are very good at it. But this isn’t what your life should be about. The Lord blesses two people who fall in love, and that’s what I want for you.”
Who said anything about love? “Thank you, Grandpa. Maybe someday.”
“Ya, someday.” He nodded. “Maybe soon.”
“I’m going home to help Grandma with supper. See you at the house in a little while.”
“Ya. Eleanor can close the restaurant. Tell your grandmother I’m bringing home some pie for dessert so she won’t make more.”
Mary left out the back door, grabbing her tote off the counter on her way out. She tossed it into the basket and hopped on her three-wheeler.
David didn’t say much as they rode to the Glick farm. He apparently sensed that Abe needed some quiet time. However, right before they turned onto the long shell road leading to the house, he spoke up.
“So how was your walk on the beach with Mary?”
“It was good.”
They hit a bump as they turned, so David slowed down. “Don’t wanna talk about it, huh?”
“There’s nothing much to say.”
“Is this a relationship that may lead to something bigger?”
“Bigger? Are you asking if there’s romance?”
With one of his customary chuckles, David nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
Abe inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled. “That’s what I would like, but I’m not so sure about Mary. She seems to still be hurting from her past.”
“I take it you know something about her past that would bother her.”
“Ya, but mostly what I’ve heard from other people, and that was a long time ago. She can’t seem to let go of her past, and she thinks other people are holding it against her. I have to tread very lightly on that subject when I’m with her.”
“How long have you known this girl?”
“Nine years. I met her when she arrived to live with her grandparents. She wasn’t Mennonite before coming here. Her first day of school, she walked in looking so lost and scared.” Abe’s heart twisted at the memory. “She wore plain clothes, but everyone could tell she was uncomfortable in them, especially her kapp. She kept fidgeting with it.”
“I can understand someone having a tough time getting used to the customs,” David said. “No offense meant, though. All I’m saying is change is tough for most people.”
“No offense taken. Ya, I’m used to this, but I can see how someone who was never around the plain and simple way of life might be uncomfortable. But that’s not what bothered me.”
“Obviously, something did bother you.” David pulled to a stop in front of Abe’s house. “Wanna talk about it? I have a little time.”
“I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I can spare a few minutes.”
Abe pondered discussing something so personal with someone outside the faith and decided it had some advantages in this case. “Ya. I would like to talk.”
David turned off the ignition and turned around to face Abe. “So tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Most of the other girls didn’t understand all she’d been through. All they knew was what they’d heard, and they didn’t give her much of a chance. There was one girl, though, who tried to help her. That’s Shelley, who works for her grandfather at the restaurant.”
“Did the other girls make fun of her or say mean things?”
“Neh.” Abe shook his head and leaned against the door. “It might have been easier if they had. They didn’t say much of anything to her. I imagine Mary felt like an outcast.”
“How about you? Did you talk to her?”
“Ya. Mary and I became friends.”
“Friends, huh?” David nodded. “That’s how my wife and I started out, until I got the nerve to tell her how I really felt. I was so in love with that girl, I never knew which way was up.”
“I know what you mean,” Abe said. “I’ve felt that way around Mary since before I went off to college. I thought I would forget about her, but when I came back and saw her working for her grandfather, it felt like my world got brighter.” He cast his gaze downward. “I just don’t know what to do next.”
“Sounds like the real thing to me, Abe. So what’s stopping you from just coming right out and telling her what you told me?”
“It isn’t that easy. She’s very touchy about getting close. I think she still has problems trusting people.”
“That’s understandable, after the reception you said she got when she came here.”
“I think it’s even deeper than that. Something happened in her past that she has never told me about.”
“Do you know this for a fact?”
“Neh, but I sense it. I can imagine how she feels about people ignoring her, but she shuts me out when anything comes up about what happened before she came to Sarasota.”
“Why do you care so much?” David asked. “It’s not like there aren’t more than enough Mennonite girls to go around.”
Abe’s lips twitched into a smile. He’d heard this before from his father, who kept after him to find a wife when he first returned from college. “I don’t want just any girl. She has to be special.”
David nodded his understanding. “I getcha, and I agree. You deserve someone special.”
“I don’t know about deserve. I’m happy with whatever the Lord provides, but I can’t help but think He brought Mary into my life for a reason.”
David’s forehead crinkled, and he grew silent for a few seconds before he asked, “Any way you can find out what’s bugging her?”
Abe thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t know.” He opened the door and got out. “Thank you for listening. Have fun with your wife tonight.”
David lifted his hand in a wave. “I intend to. Take care, Abe.”
After Abe went inside, he fixed himself a grilled cheese and ham sandwich to keep his stomach from rumbling later. If David had more time, Abe would have ordered something from Penner’s, where the food was filling and delicious.
If he hadn’t set his mind and heart on winning Mary over, he could be married by now, and dinner would be a feast, no matter what she prepared. Like David had said, there were plenty of unmarried girls who would be happy to find a husband with land and a good future.
“Mary Penner, you haven’t said more than five words since you got home.” Grandma stood at Mary’s bedroom door glaring at her. “You can at least tell me what you and Abe talked about.”
“We didn’t say much, Grandma. We mostly just walked on the beach and looked at the water.”
“Did he tell you why he asked you out on a date?”
Mary stiffened. “It wasn’t a date.”
“In my book, when a man asks a woman to go somewhere with him, it’s a date. What do you call it then?”
“Just a walk on the beach.”
Grandma placed her hands on her wide hips, closed her eyes, and slowly turned her head from side to side before looking directly at Mary. “Walking on the beach with a man is the same as going out to eat with a man. Either one is a date. What’s wrong with you, Granddaughter?”
The same sensation she’d always felt when her mother used to shame her into conceding flooded Mary. “Nothing is wrong with me, Grandma. I don’t know what all this fuss is about me going to the beach with Abe.”
Grandma lifted a finger and shook it. “I tell you what’s wrong, Mary. You’re a woman now. A twenty-three-year-old woman who should start considering her future. Abe obviously cares enough about you to go out of his way to be with you.”
Mary pursed her lips. Nothing she could say would make a difference in what her grandparents thought.
“Mark my words, Granddaughter, Abe is not going to wait around for you forever. I just happen to know several young women who think he would make a good husband.”
Mary gasped. “I’m not even thinking about getting married.”
“Maybe it’s time you started thinking about it. I don’t want you to become a lonely old woman with no one to love you. Your grandpa and I are all you have. If we could have had more children, you would have aunts, uncles, and cousins. As it is, after we’re gone there will be no one left but you.”
“Yes, Grandma, I realize that. But you and Grandpa are very healthy, and I expect the two of you to be around for a very long time.”
“Only the Lord knows, Mary. Just remember that.”
Yes, and only the Lord knew what Mary should do. Now if He’d only find a way to let her know how to handle Grandma and Grandpa’s nudges toward what she wasn’t sure of. She’d seen plenty of successful relationships since being in Sarasota, but images of the past her mother had tried unsuccessfully to shelter her from continued to haunt her.
“I made some beef stew, and it will be ready when your grandpa comes home from the restaurant.”
“I’ll help you get it on the table,” Mary said. “Just let me know when.”
After Grandma left, Mary bowed her head and prayed. Lord, I am so confused. I like Abe very much, and he makes me feel things no one else does. But does that mean I should do something different from what I’m doing? I want to do Your will, but I don’t know what that is. She opened her eyes then slammed them shut again. I don’t want Abe to feel sorry for me or pity my past. I do care for him, but not enough to complicate his life or mine. I would be such a burden to him, and I would never feel worthy of his name.
Mary repositioned the kapp on her head and carefully pinned it to prevent more hair from escaping. It was almost summer, when the Florida humidity created stray frizz that would form a halo around her face. After she pulled herself together, she went to the kitchen to help Grandma get dinner on the table. Grandpa walked in with a big smile on his face.
“After you left, I heard from some people who saw you and Abe this afternoon.” He turned to Grandma. “I suspect we might be planning a wedding soon.”
“According to our granddaughter, that isn’t likely.”
Grandpa cut his glance back and forth between Mary and Grandma and finally settled on Mary. “Then you best not be cavorting with Abe anymore, or you risk ruining your reputation.”
Grandma spun around and faced Mary. “Cavorting? What did you and Abe do?”