Much more than ordinary. Chapter 2.

I've revised this chapter and added a few things. So, even if you've already read it, please do so again! You'll find out some more information on Kaia than you did before! Don't forget to rate and review or shoot me an email with any suggestions or opinions. Thank you sooo much for stopping by my portfolio!

Chapter 2.

The Town of Gardenia



Arriving to Gardenia is like stepping into a scene from a romantic novel. Everything is perfect there, from the smooth paved roads to the constant blue sky. It never snows and never rains which makes me curious to how the plants get to be so full and beautiful. Every lawn is covered with well-tended to flowers and fresh cut grass. Even the people who live here are perfect. They're all well-mannered and all smiles all the time. Maybe it comes from being from a hassle-free small town like Gardenia but I know that it never fails to weird me out.

The plane ride was much too short. I wouldn't have minded to have a least another hour to get my mind together. Or at least another thirty minutes to ease my stomach after eating all that junk. I needed more time to prepare myself for a three hour car ride and after that Three Whole Months! What was I thinking? How was I going to survive three months with my mom when I couldn't stand to be around her? My dad had said to learn to get along and I might actually end up liking her. I'm sure he was right. Something had to be fantastic about her for my dad to have fallen in love with her, right? But I couldn’t get past the fact that I didn't want to like her.

Every time I try to focus on the good qualities she has, one little thing pops into the front of my thoughts. She left me. She left me, her baby and only child. I'm not complaining about having to live with dad because I love it, but she didn't just leave me. I hardly heard from her until my thirteenth birthday and she showed up without warning stating that it was now time for me to have her in my life more.

I remember crying and screaming that night as my dad tried unsuccessfully to console me. I had never talked to her, let alone seen her. Dad had shown me a picture of her once, the one he keeps hidden in his nightstand and thinks I don't know, but I had refused myself another glance. It was a photo he had taken of her when they were still dating in college. She was beautiful, not at all the woman I imagined in my head for all those years. It's hard to admit that I look even more like her now than I did six years ago when I had first seen the picture.



We had been eating dinner when the doorbell rang. We thought that it was some of the band coming to celebrate with us since we hadn’t cut the cake yet. I didn’t think anything of it when dad was gone longer than it takes to answer the door. He came back with a troubled expression on his face and no band members burst into the room behind him.

“Kaia… um, I…” my dad stumbled through his sentence unable to look me in the eye.

I put down my fork and got up from the table. Something was definitely wrong if he was at a loss for words. “What’s wrong?” I asked, walking up to him.

He gently wiped the falling hair from my face, his hand then fell to rest on my shoulder. “Kaia, I need you to stay calm,” he said, finally looking me in the eyes.

Something was wrong. Had something happened to Ms. Rosie? “What is it daddy?” I asked grabbing his arm.

He took a deep breath. “Your mother is here.”

I couldn’t have heard him right. I’d believe anything else but this. I’d never seen her or even heard her voice. Why would she come now? I shook my head. “What?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

After another deep breath and a look behind him, he said it again. “Your mother is here.”

I stared him, blankly. This couldn’t be possible. After eleven years, she’s finally decided to come and visit? What makes her think she is allowed to come back?

“She’s come to give you your birthday present in person,” dad said with tight lips. When I still didn’t respond, he said,” Would you like to go say hello? She’s waiting in the living room.”

My emotions were spinning out of control. All at once feelings of anger and confusion filled up inside of me. I wanted to see her so that I could shout at her everything I’ve felt towards her for the past eleven years. Abandoned, neglected and treated like an afterthought, these thoughts are what filled my mind on a day to day basis. But I was also scared to see her. What if she saw me and hated me? What if I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough and she just didn’t like me? Why was I feeling like this? She didn’t deserve my attention or my forgiveness. And she didn’t deserve to have this effect on me.

“Baby,” dad said, suddenly grabbing my shoulders and yanking me out of my reverie. I looked up to see a pained expression on his face. “If you don’t want to see her, I understand. You want me to tell her to go?”

My dad was in pain too. I could read it in his eyes, his fidgeting body and the way he grasped my shoulders a little too tightly. I wasn’t the only one who was hurt by her leaving all those years ago. She had walked out on her family and left my father to raise me alone. Since I’d never heard any stories about my dad and mothers relationship, I had no idea what he felt about her. He never spoke of her actually. But now, seeing the hurt he was feeling, I knew that he had been in love.

I still hadn’t responded. My dad took that as his cue. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “I’ll be right back.”
He turned to leave and was almost at the kitchen door when I said,” Wait.” I’d barely whispered but I was somehow loud enough for my dad to hear me. He halted, midstride and turned around slowly to face me.

I had to look away because I couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face. He knew what was coming, and he dreaded it. “I want to see her,” I mumbled.




The middle aged man sitting next to me on the plane hit me with his carry-on bag as he got up, knocking me out of my thoughts. I’d been sitting, staring out of the window, lost in thought while the flight attendant had announced that we’d arrived at our destination. Quickly, I got up and swung my tote over my shoulder and made my way off the plane, at the back of the line.

I was glad I was at the back of the group making the way down the ramp toward the terminal. I wanted to take my time and gather myself before I had to face my mother. My nerves were making me jumpy and my hands were shaking. For three years I’d been visiting her and I still got as nervous as I did the first time I met her.

I tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. I didn’t want to throw up like I did last year. My nerves had affected me so bad that my mother had to pull over on the side of the road during the ride to Gardenia. I’d lied and told her it was due to the plane ride.

I stopped walking and closed my eyes. I needed to be in control of myself. She didn’t have any power over me and I needed to show her that. I took a few deep breaths and willed myself to block off all the tormenting thoughts I had and I felt, slightly, better. I opened my eyes and exhaled because I was temporarily in control of my emotions again.

I saw her as soon as I stepped into the terminal. I allowed myself a quick glance before she spotted me. She was still absolutely flawless in every way possible. She looked even better now than she did in the college photo dad had showed me all those years ago. She wore a paisley tunic dress with a low slung belt and a pair of wedge heel sandals. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five. I self-consciously tried to straighten out my t-shirt and jogging pants.

One thing I did look forward to was the fact that I would look like her when I got older. We already resembled each other quite a bit. We had the same chestnut brown eyes and the same golden wild curly mane on the top of our heads. Her wild mane was so much better under control than mine was though. Everything about her was under control. Her teeth were bright white and straight and it didn't look like she had makeup on but her skin was impeccable. I could not stand her.

She finally spotted me through the crowd and her eyes lit up. She flung her arms open and yelled, “Hi, baby!” I rolled my eyes. I have to mention that despite my outright dislike of her she makes every effort to show me she doesn't care.

I made my way toward her, pressing myself in between people that were caught up in emotional embraces and excited greetings. When I got close enough to her, she ran to me with those open arms and pulled me into a tight hug.

I made an effort to smile. "Hi, mom, how are you?"

"I'm great now that you're here," she replied, all smiles. "We're going to have so much fun, Kaia. We have so much more time to spend with each other now." She hooked her arm in mine and we began walking together.

"Oh, yah," I muttered under my breath as we made our way to baggage claim.

Driving through the town on our way to her house, I looked out the window at the town I would be visiting for the summer. Smooth paved roads lined the entire town accented with brilliant oak trees that created a scenic route as we made our way to the house. Flowers were everywhere. Not only in the town folk’s lawns but in pots on every corner, circling the trees and beautifying the elementary and high school front yards. The air was definitely fresher here than it was in New York. It was easier to inhale and much more aromatic than the exhaust that was the usual H2O in my hometown.

We didn’t pass a single city bus filled with eager tourists or homeless persons begging on the street. I didn’t see a cop in sight, which always seemed odd to me although I doubted there was a need for one to prowl the streets. All of this seemed eerie to me and it was the reason I would stay in the house, preferably locked in my room. New York may seem like a disaster compared to this perfect little town but it was so much more normal to me.

We passed people out cutting their grass and sweeping up whatever stray lawn debris there was. Which I doubted there was any. Every now and then someone would look up from their work and wave at the car on our way by. Mom would chuckle and honk the horn in return. Every time, she felt the need to explain how she knew that person. She did this every time I visited. No matter how much I try not to listen, I probably knew some of these people by name by now.

There was Mr. Lambert who was always crouched in a very unattractive position when mom slowed to say a quick hello. He always wore shorts way too tight and short for a man his age, which had to be way over fifty. A couple doors down a middle aged woman mom called ‘Mama Lily’ lived with her abundance of yard gnomes. Mom said everyone in town called her that because of her fabulous home cooking. Today, she sat on her porch with her cat curled in her lap sipping on a mouthwatering glass of lemonade. The look on her face was one of relaxation and contentment as she casually waved us by. I half wished I was sitting there with her.

All of mom’s neighbors had their own quirks and eccentricities but the one that was the most off her rocker was her next door neighbor, Ms. Frona. She wasn’t cheery and pleasant like the rest of them. As if she just moved here to retire and hadn’t gotten the newsletter about good manners being a town law. The only thing she did like the rest of them was maintain her yard and she hires someone to do it for her. Mom says she’s lived here her whole life but there’s just something so different about her.

I’d never seen her outside of her house. The only reason I know about her is because mom takes her food every so often and one day she dragged me over with her. Every curtain was drawn closed and the house was stuffy and old. Ms. Frona didn’t say a word to me but she would look at me with this weird look on her face every now and then. When I was sure mom wasn’t looking, I shot the old bag an ugly look right back. I hadn’t been back over there since but every time we reached mom’s house I looked over to Ms. Frona’s hoping to catch a peek inside the dark house.

“We’re here!” mom announced unnecessarily as she pulled the car into the driveway.

I turned my attention away from Ms. Frona’s house, which hadn’t changed a bit, and looked up to my second home.

Mom’s house matched her personality perfectly. It was small, painted a buttery yellow color that contrasted well with the purple Iris’ and the town-famous Gardenia’s that surrounded the house. As we stepped out of the car I instantly smelled the lavender scenting the air. It annoyed me when I walked past flowers in Central Park and was reminded of this place. When I was home, I didn't want to think about Gardenia.

It was weird to think of this place as my second home. But I guess it was. Over the years I've become familiar with it, even thinking of it as cozy. It was the only thing that I did like about visiting Gardenia. Being that I've lived with a man my whole life, I find it calming to be in a house that’s constantly clean and organized.

I sighed and shook my head to rid myself of my confusing emotions. No matter how clean and organized it was, I wouldn’t allow myself to like this place. I picked up my duffel bag and followed mom into the house, watching her dress flow in the wind like she was a runway model.

The inside of the house smelled the same as it did outside; clean and of lavender. Beige carpet covered the floors and deep oak furniture gave the room a classy but comfortable feel. My mother rarely spent time at home because she likes to work. She told me this when I asked her, on my first visit, why her house didn’t look lived in. Nothing was out of place. No shoes littered the floors and no magazines scattered the coffee table. The only thing homey about the place was the flower printed sofa in the middle of the living room. It was old, tattered and the cushions sunk in. A blanket was always thrown over it, I guess to hide the worst of its aging. I always wondered why she had the sofa since it was so different than the rest of the house but I’d never bothered to ask. It was comfy and I liked that it showed that my mother didn’t always have to be perfect.

When I entered my room, I actually heaved a sigh of relief. This was my sanctuary away from home. It had a bed and a computer, which was all I needed, though mom had equipped it with everything she thought a teenage girl would like. The bed was topped with a dozen pink and ruffled pillows arranged over a big fluffy yellow duvet. There was a bookcase full of cheesy romantic novels and even a vanity with a mirror that lit up. What teenage girl in this day and age has a vanity?

“You sure didn’t pack much,” mom commented as she set the suitcase she’d been carrying on the bed. “This doesn’t look like much more than you bring when you only stay a week.”

I shrugged. “I’m a good packer,” I lied. Actually, I hadn’t packed much more. I didn’t need a lot of clothes to just hang around the house.

She sighed, smiling at me. “Kaia, I’m really glad that you decided to stay with me this summer. But I’m sure I seemed like a slightly better alternative too a smelly old tour bus filled with men.”

She giggled at her own joke. I shrugged and began to take my stuff out of my suitcase.

“I’m surprised your father agreed to it though,” she continued. She went over to the window and opened it, letting in a nice breeze. “But he’s probably stoked about the opportunity he has.”

I stopped and looked at her. She was actually talking about dad in a casual way? This wasn’t normal. “He’s really excited,” I said, going back to sorting out my socks. “So excited that I guess his judgment is off.”

Her smile faltered. “Oh, okay,” she said nodding. “Well… I um… I’m going to change into something a bit more comfortable while you unpack.”

“Fine,” I muttered and watched her leave. It was absolutely insane how uncomfortable I still found it to be around her. The silence that now filled the house was calming after her nonstop chattering.

I decided to stop unpacking and shoved my suitcase to the floor. I climbed on to the bed; I was exhausted all of a sudden. I missed my home in New York and I missed my dad even more. I knew he wouldn’t be happy about me being rude to my mother but he didn’t need to know about that. I did need to call him and let him know I made it to Gardenia safely but thinking of the effort it would take me to get my phone out of my pocket made me yawn. I let my eyes close against the setting sun spilling through the drapes and drifted off to sleep, promising myself I would call my dad as soon as I woke up.



I'm currently revising Chapter 3 which had been up in the past. I'm taking this story in a whole new, more exciting, direction. I hope you like it!
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