“Wow, Sara, tell me how you really feel,” Bastian laughed. I liked the sound of it. It came from deep down. I hated that I liked it.
“I just did,” I replied.
Bastian snorted. “You don’t get sarcasm, do you?”
“I get a lot of things, Bastian. More than you think,” I retorted, feeling the need to defend myself. “Now come on. I don’t have much time,” I sniffed. Unmoved. Unconcerned.
I covered my discomfort well.
“You’re always in a rush. I don’t get why we have to be in a hurry all the time,” he complained.
I opened the small metal gate to the fenced off garden. Anne’s father, Vince and Miriam were watering some of the plants in the far corner. Miriam lifted her hand in greeting. I did the same but made a point not to get too close, otherwise I’d be forced into polite conversation. And I wasn’t in the mood. Not with Bastian Scott on my heels.
I headed to the small patch of dirt reserved for the tomato plants. I wanted to start seeding and tilling the soil. I had planned to plant some cucumbers and peppers as well.
“I’m not in a hurry. My time is scheduled. We live by routine and punctuality here if you hadn’t noticed. Pastor says it shows obedience and respect,” I responded, reaching down to the base of a dead tomato plant and pulling it out of the ground.
“It doesn’t sound very peaceful having every moment of your life accounted for,” Bastian criticized, sitting down on the ground beside me. He began to pull wilting leaves from the plants that had been left over from the last growing season, obviously not knowing what he was doing.
I swatted his hand away with a cluck of my tongue. “Not like that. Have you never gardened before?”
Bastian shrugged. “I have a long, complicated history with gardening.”
Was he teasing again?
He grinned at me. Yes, he was definitely teasing. I rolled my eyes. “God forbid you exhibit patience in anything.”
“Are you judging me, Sara?” Bastian raised an eyebrow.
I puffed up indignantly. “I don’t judge anyone. It’s not my place to judge. That’s up to God.”
Bastian put his hand on my arm and I felt as though my skin were on fire. “I was joking, Sara. Don’t have a coronary.”
“I’m not having a coronary,” I muttered.
“So, what am I doing wrong then?” he asked, plucking a few more leaves off the tomato plant.
“That’s a waste of time. You’ll be here all day. Pull the whole plant up. Like this.” I demonstrated what to do. “It’s not that hard.” I dropped the dead tomato plant on a pile of rotting vegetation that I would need to take to the compost heap. “And having consistency in your day is very peaceful, just so you know,” I added, still needing to argue the point.
Bastian ripped up a tomato plant with a little more zeal than was required. “Monotony is kinda boring, you know.”
“There’s nothing monotonous about preparing your soul,” I barked, raising my voice. I noted Miriam and Vince shooting curious looks in our direction, whispering together. Gossip was a malevolent serpent within our family. It was sinful but most indulged in telling stories about their fellow disciples to those who would hear about it. There wasn’t much that happened, that others weren’t immediately aware of.
The feeling of being watched was strong. Particularly with Bastian beside me. I smiled sweetly. “Maybe you need to spend more time praying then. Clearly your soul is in need of quite a bit of work.”
“Do you ever think about what you’re missing by praying all day?” he asked pulling up another plant.
“No. I do not. Because I have everything I need here. I’m not missing anything,” I replied shortly.
“Spoken like a woman who has never experienced anything,” he shot back, though not unkindly.
“Wow, Bastian. Tell me how you really feel,” I parroted him and Bastian laughed again. I found I liked it when he laughed. It was a lot better than when I felt him judging me.
“Nice one, Sara. Maybe you have a sense of humor after all.”
I put a hand on my hip. “I’ll have you know, I can be very funny.”
Bastian smirked. “I’m sure you’re a riot, Sara. With all your praying and bowing and scrapping.”
