Free Sarasota Dreams by Debby Mayne Page B

you’re in the same place, I’ll just tell her to go there. She said your citrus was better than anyone else’s.” David turned at the farm entrance. “I’d like my wife to meet you one of these days.”
    “Why?”
    David grinned. “She’s fascinated by the things I tell her about you.”
    “I don’t know what would be so fascinating about me. My life is very plain and simple.”
    “Plain, maybe,” David agreed before lifting an eyebrow. “But not simple.” He came to a stop and repeated, “Definitely not simple. You seem to have pretty much the same issues people who aren’t Mennonite have, only you have a different way of dealing with them.”
    Abe opened the car door but paused before getting out. “Matters of the heart are never simple, are they?”
    “You got that right.” David waved as Abe got out of the car.

    “I’m not hungry, Grandma,” Mary said. “I think I’ll pass on supper tonight.”
    Grandma gave her a sideways glance. “I don’t want you tossing and turning all night because your stomach starts rumbling.”
    Mary patted her stomach. “I don’t think that’ll happen. I ate enough at the church to last the rest of the day.”
    Instead of responding, Grandma turned back to preparing the food. Mary left the kitchen and went outside. As she stood in the front yard, she glanced around at the children playing in the yard a few houses down. Occasionally she thought about having her own family, and there were even times she longed for a husband and children. The women in the neighborhood seemed content in their marriages.
    Mama’s words about men always wanting something rang through her mind constantly, but sometimes Mary wondered how true they were. It was obvious that Mama’s experiences had been different from these women’s. However, Mary also remembered what Mama had told her about being shunned by her own community, and there was never any doubt her mother had told her the truth—at least from her perspective. They hadn’t exactly been warm and welcoming to Mary in the beginning. A few people, like Shelley … and Abe … treated her well, but many of the others acted as though she had some disease they might catch if they so much as had a conversation with her. No one had been openly mean, but even now people seemed afraid to hold a conversation with her. She thought about what Abe had said—that her shame made her standoffish, which in turn kept people away.
    She stood in the front yard and watched a couple of neighborhood children playing ball. The older boy was kind and considerate of the younger one’s lack of coordination. Seeing these boys playing made her think about all she’d missed as a child. She wondered if she’d ever be a mother, and if so, how she’d handle questions about her past.
    Mary watched the boys until their mother called them inside. Then she headed back into her grandparents’ house. Grandma and Grandpa were in the kitchen reading their Bibles. The aroma of Grandma’s homemade vegetable soup still hung in the air.
    “Join us, Mary,” Grandpa said, patting her place at the table. “We were just reading from the book of Luke.”
    “Luke 21:34,” Grandma added. “You may read next if you like.”
    Mary nodded as she pulled her Bible from the small shelf Grandpa had built next to the table. She flipped through the pages and began to read.
    “Be careful or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life …”
    As the words flowed from Mary’s lips, she could feel the intensity of how relevant they were to her life. She’d seen the results of what happened when people got caught up in sins of the flesh. What a bitter existence. The life she had now was one of simplicity and very little focus on worrying about things. At times like this, the peace that washed through her soul reminded her of how blessed she was.
    She finished the verse and glanced up in time to see Grandma wipe a tear from her cheek.