Chapter 3 #2
That, combined with the money I had saved over the years—she never made me pay for a thing—was what I used to pay my way through college.
The year before I first opened my doors, she died.
When I went to her funeral, I didn't expect much.
I knew her family; they knew me. I expected everything to be cordial.
What I did not expect was to be pulled into a room by an attorney, who gave me an envelope.
In that envelope was a letter. To my daughter.
She hadn’t written foster daughter. To Lavon, I was her daughter.
That was how she saw me. In over a decade of knowing her, she had become the mother I needed, and I realized as I read her words that she was my mother.
She was my heart. I’d cried so hard, the letters on the page smudged so badly, I couldn’t finish reading it.
The attorney then handed me a second envelope.
Inside was a letter that began: Now that you’ve cried through the first letter…
It went on to say how she wanted me to be okay, that everything that was hers was now mine.
She’d known she was sick and her time was coming to an end, so she was leaving me her estate, a house she wanted me to sell and a bank account.
Then, the attorney handed me another envelope that contained an account ledger. It didn’t have millions of dollars in it, but it had enough for a nice down payment on a new house, and some seed money for my business. That was more than I had ever hoped for.
Around my home were touches of her. I noticed it every time I thought about her.
I decorated in the same way. I grew the same plants, and used the same scents in my diffusers.
She loved patchouli. I even had incense in the house, though I never burned them because I hated the smokiness.
Instead, I loved to pick them up and sniff them because they reminded me of her.
There was a time in my life when I’d envied others.
I envied the relationship they had with their mothers, the connection,the bond, because I felt like I would never know what that was.
But she had given that to me. I was grateful for it every day, because it taught me what it meant to be loved by a woman; allowed me to experience girlhood.
I stuck to my usual nightly routine: visiting my garden.
As soon as I stepped through the gates, I kicked off my shoes.
I loved the feeling of the soil on my feet.
I danced through the grass, throwing my hands in the air, praising the space I had.
I visited the flowers, sniffing their fragrance and smiling when they perked up at me, even though there was no sun to encourage them.
As my final task, I sprawled out in the middle of the ground, grass against my skin, hair splayed out around me.
This was my happiness. This was what I worked so hard for; to come home and lie in the grass and feel at peace.
This was my welcome home and my rejuvenation.
After laying in my garden, I entered the house, dropping my clothes at the door so as not to track dirt inside.
I stripped and went to the bathroom. Another glorious part about living alone was the freedom to walk around butt ass naked.
If I had been born in another life, I would have been a nudist. I would have had a beach somewhere secluded by myself, where I could just run around in the buff underneath the sun.
I hated clothes. They felt suffocating, which was why, most often than not, you would catch me in a short pencil skirt and a loose blouse.
If it wasn't that, it was something like booty shorts or a tank top.
If I could have my skin as free as possible, that was all I needed.
Unfortunately, sometimes, I had to cover up, especially in my line of work.
I had to make sure my body was covered for protection, of course. Safety was first, fashion second.
As my bath ran, I took care of my hair. I shouldn’t have laid in the damn grass before covering my hair.
I usually pulled my bonnet out of my purse, but the day had been stressful, and I was out of my mind.
So much for letting my hair last a few more days.
I sprayed it down and detangled the coils with a wide-tooth comb.
The second I thought of skipping the wash, a blade of grass fell onto the sink in front of me.
“Fine, I’ll wash it!” I fussed and applied the hair mask I always used before washing my hair.
While the water filled the tub, I moved through the house, tending to all the potted plants inside. These were my babies. Other people had pets or actual children. I had my plants. I talked to them, nourished them, cared for them, loved them when they flourished.
But my plants had secrets I could never share. They were more powerful than they looked, and there was one that held more power than all the others. No, I wasn’t just a crazy plant lady—kay, maybe a little bit—but there was something special about it.
I walked to the large potted plant by the window, a second smaller pot sitting inside it. I had to cut out the bottom of the pot and plant it inside the bigger one because this plant got pissy when I tried to swap it entirely.
“You can stop pretending now.” I tapped the potter with my fingernail then stepped back to watch.
In the same dramatic fashion, what looked like a simple vine plant with pink flowers moved.
The long vine pulled back, coiling into a tight ball.
Then, those petals shifted, moving to form tight scales across a long, slender body.
Moments later, her head popped out of the dirt, and she shimmied to knock the soil away from her.
“There you are.” I smiled, reaching out so Kaa could nuzzle my hand. “How was your sleep?”
She looked up at me, and the petals around her face spread out, creating a pink mane.
“I assume it was a good day.” I lowered her small body to the floor and, as always, she went off to survey the area.
For the next hour, she would slither through my home, a mythical guardian.
Her presence made me feel safer. As she slid across the floor, pink and silver and giving off her magical aura, I headed back to the bathroom.
Kaa had been with me for over twenty years. I called her a gift from the universe, because I found the seed that formed her soon after my own powers first emerged.
It was shortly after I turned fourteen, though I didn’t realize it.
It was nothing significant, and mostly just made me paranoid.
The first few times it happened, I noticed how nature shifted and responded to me.
I told myself at first I just had a wild imagination, that I needed to focus more on education and planning for my future.
The only thing that mattered was getting ahead in life.
But then, I met my foster mother.
It was during my time working in her garden that I understood it wasn't just something happening in my mind.
A year and a half after moving in with her, I had a dream of standing in a weird cave.
As I walked deeper inside, I saw a woman standing by a pool of water.
I gripped the scarf I wore around my neck—my favorite, green with pretty gold spirals along the edges.
I remember her taking me into the water, telling me to relax, to understand a message was waiting for me. And then, I woke up, and at first, I couldn't remember much other than that, but as time passed, I remembered the words I’d heard in that pool. I understood something was awakening within me.
Now don't get me wrong, I never believed that dream actually happened, though I remembered dropping that scarf in the cave and never saw it again. Still, I do believe it triggered something inside me, and over the years, I slowly accepted that this was part of my life.
It was also something I could tell no one about, but it was part of me, and that was why I loved to be near nature, to feel the dirt on my skin, the wind, the grass, all of it.
When I was seventeen, Kaa came into my life, but she was nothing like her current self.
I was out on a hike when I tripped, which is unusual, because typically, I'm very surefooted, but when I looked over, I saw this weird orange and blue seed just sitting in the dirt.
Typically, when I'm out like that, I touch nothing foreign to me.
I'm not crazy, but something inside me screamed to take the seed home and plant it.
My mother taught me to listen to my intuition, so I did. When it was time to move away from home for college, I finally bought a pot and planted it. I promised my mother I would take the best care of it. Three weeks after I planted the seed, Kaa emerged.
From the moment I saw her, I felt the connection, something beyond explanation.
She understood me, and I should have been scared of this plant that turned into a snake, but I wasn't. Hell, I didn't even like snakes—still don't—but Kaa was different.
She was a part of me, like if someone sliced off a piece of my soul and made it real. That was Kaa.
To me, Kaa was sweet and gentle and made sure I was okay.
There were many times, especially during finals, when she comforted me.
To others, she was a bit more aggressive, but more often than not, no one ever saw her.
I had very few friends who knew about her.
She remained hidden in her plant form whenever we weren't alone.
But whenever we were alone, I would tap the side of the pot she lived in, and she would come alive.
The most I would ever get were comments about how exotic the plant looked. Some green thumbs would even ask about water and lighting needs, growing irritated when I wouldn’t allow them to propagate from Kaa.
My go-to excuse was that I found it at some random nursery I couldn't remember the location of, and everyone seemed to accept that as truth.
My home was a welcoming oasis, full of plants that brought a smile to my face.
The first thing I did after buying the home was remodel it.
It had good bones but was an eyesore. I put in more windows for natural lighting and access to sunlight for my babies.
I had natural planters built into the walls.
It gave my plants access to rainwater, and all the drainage went outside, so I didn’t have to worry about root rot.
I went with a cozy cottage feel—exposed brick, lots of natural wood furnishings, and stone flooring and countertops. Entering my space felt like going to a spa. At least, for me it did, especially with the heated flooring. My feet were always nice and toasty.
With the tub full and the water hot, I slid into the bath and let the water do its thing. Maybe it was because I was a Cancer and had spent most of my time in the water as a kid, but I loved a good bath. It did something to me. No wonder I had dreams of odd women in caves with magical ponds.
I had been thinking of that dream more often, but I couldn’t figure out why. It felt like a deeper intuition was trying to yell at me, but I had no idea what the hell it meant.
As I soaked, I drew my fingers across the surface of the tattoos that covered my body.
My first was the vine that wrapped around my arm that I’d got on the second day of college.
Since then, I’ve gotten ten more, all nature themed.
And yes, I was itching to get another one.
The plan was to extend the vine that wrapped around my right leg up my body and across my chest to connect it to the one on my left arm.
That would take a lot of time, money, and pain.
Yes, I loved them, but I’m not one of those girls who claimed they didn’t hurt. I just liked the pain.
The vine was like a map of my inner self. Every time I reached a new level in life, maturity, power, I would add to the vines. Each leaf had a name, a purpose. It was the traces of my former self. I spoke a quiet thank you to that past version of myself for being so resilient.
Hair washed, body scrubbed, and skin moisturized, I wrapped my robe around my body and headed for the kitchen. As I passed, I made sure to give extra attention to any of my plants that looked a little down. After a quick hello and a gentle touch, they always perked right back up.
As I plucked a grape from the bowl in the fridge, my phone buzzed. It was still in my bag, discarded on the floor by the door. I retrieved the phone and found a text from Mack.
Mack: Hey, are you still coming over?
“Shit,” I muttered. I had forgotten all about his ass. Mack was my new flavor, a man with broad shoulders and strong thighs.
Just as I was about to send an affirmative response, Mack committed the ultimate sin. The phone buzzed in my hand, and a moment later…dick pic! Yep. And the worst fucking kind: dick in hand, toes in background.
BLOCKED!
I slammed the phone down, and then, a moment later, it buzzed again.
“I know damn well…” I picked up the phone, expecting a text from Mack, but I found an email notification.
It was from Raymond. I opened it to find one line.
This looks great. I look forward to working together.