1. Tollie's Garden Pt.1


    Date: 3/15/2016, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    not and said yes. That was the first time in the almost two years he lived there that we actually had a conversation and I’m glad I did. He served me a curried vegetable soup and a small salad with lettuce and spinach from the garden and a wonderful dressing—just oil and vinegar with a variety of herbs. I’m not sure what, but it was delicious. He poured me a glass of red wine and we clicked glasses. When he said, “To life,” I noticed how his eyes twinkled behind his glasses then disappeared into little slits when he smiled. “So what did you want to talk about?” I asked, after sipping the wine. He put his glass down after taking a sip, stirred his soup then looked at me with that smile on his lips. “Sarah, I’ve lived here for almost two years and we have never really had a conversation. I know you’re busy with school and your friends and I see you’re a cheerleader and getting ready to go off to college in the fall. I’ve gotten to know your mother quite well. We’ve had lots of conversations, but I want to know you.” “You do? Why?” I was really surprised. He chuckled at my reaction. “I want to know what you’re passionate about.” “Passionate about?” His question stunned me. “That’s a strange question.” “What do you love?” He lifted his wine to his lips and took a sip. “If you could do anything you want with your life, what would that be?” “I don’t know what to say.” My mind was racing to think of something and I realized his question scared me. “Why do you want to know?” He ...
    smiled, knowing by my question that I was avoiding answering him. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, or what I loved. I didn’t want to tell him how much I liked shopping for clothes, so I told him I liked cheerleading and was interested in some of my classes, though most of it was doing what I was assigned. I didn’t think about loving my subjects. I just did them. For a few minutes, we were both silent, eating the soup, taking sips of wine. He looked at me, and I don’t think anyone had ever looked at me like he did. I felt he was really trying to see me, know me, and it aroused something in me to feel his caring. So I asked again, “Why do you want to know what I love?” “Because I want you to be happy and I know you will never be happy unless you know what you love.” “Are you happy?” I asked, still bewildered by what he said. “Very.” He smiled then took a sip of his wine. “Really?” I noticed the twinkle in his blue eyes. “Yes, I love to garden and I love to write poetry and stories, and I love the quiet and I love watching the birds at the feeder and seeing the flowers bloom and the vegetables growing. I’m very happy.” “Aren’t you lonely? I never see you with friends. Don’t you want to love someone?” “Sometimes I’m lonely and yes, I would like to love someone and be loved. I do have friends. They don’t live around here, but we stay in touch and a dear friend is going to visit here this Sunday. I’m really looking forward to it.” “Great,” I said, wondering if it was a man or woman ...
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