Planted Seedling: Day 8

Word Count: 48,020

Summary of Events:

Brandt, to his disappointment, was confined to a combine instead of driving truck as he usually did during harvest, and he was pretty sure it was so his dad could keep an eye on him due to his latest act against his stepmom. Lark was baking and Brandt came over because it was raining out; they talked awhile before Lark's sister came home and the two of them started arguing so Lark called her grandparents. Brandt and Lark's sister's staredown was interrupted by the arrival of the grandparents . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Despite the intimidating presence of her grandfather, Brandt was surprised how long it took before Wren finally responded to him begrudgingly, looking at him with a lesser glare than she'd been directing Brandt's way the entire time as they left the room.

Reverend Joseph's wife followed them a ways, then turned around and beckoned to Brandt.

Quietly Brandt got up, followed her into the living room, and sat down beside her on the couch.

"I'm not trying to be mean or anything," Brandt said quietly. "I mean, when I ran into Lark and her friends at the mall I got a little mean with them, sort of, and Lark took me to task on that, and I kinda put some effort into trying to be nice today because of that — I've been chained to a combine for twenty hours a day otherwise so I haven't really had an opportunity elsewhere."

"That's good to hear," she said.

"I was just trying to make Lark feel better because she was just kinda feeling off," Brandt said. "And Wren came in and started pointing fingers."

She sighed. "Her mother was much the same, very reactionary, and it kills a gentle creature like Lark on a regular basis."

Brandt nodded.

"But the whole situation doesn't help," she said.

"What situation?" Brandt asked.

"Your being a Remington," she replied.

"I feel like that carries a lot more meaning than I realise," Brandt said.

"It does," she said.

"Why?" Brandt asked.

"I don't feel it's my place to tell you," she replied. "Your father should tell you."

"Oh," Brandt said quietly.

"Still, though," she said. "Wren has professed a faith since she was five years old, she's a Christian, she should know better than to be so unkind to you. You shouldn't, really, be the nicer one in this situation when you're not the Christian."

Brandt nodded.

"Wren has been a vexation for some time, though," she said. "The seeds of legalism seem to have taken some root in her, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry for causing trouble," Brandt said.

"No, no, you're not causing trouble," she said.

"I feel like I am," Brandt said. "No matter where I turn I'm causing trouble."

"You aren't causing trouble here," she said. "There's nothing wrong with your trying to be friendly or anything like that. I must admit, actually, I've been incredibly impressed with your behaviour, considering who your father is, I thought you would've been . . . more aggressive, in a way. I never would've dreamed you would've kindled anything like you have with Lark, I thought she would've run from you like a, well, a startled songbird, considering the fact that your father doesn't exactly have a sparkling record of marital faithfulness, not to mention, from knowing Brandon I know you do live a partying life. I wouldn't have expected you to be as gentlemanly as you are.""