Chapter 3

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"I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself there." —Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Samantha's POV

I was awake, basking in the first morning light and enjoying the peace and quiet when my mom burst into my room with so much verve. I knew she was up to something.

"Get up and go brush your teeth. I'd suggest you put on comfy clothes. Breakfast is ready by the way," She left before I could even get a 'good morning' past my mouth.

I freshened up, brushed my teeth and washed my face. I did as she had instructed me and put on clothes from my teen years. A baggy emo style T-shirt and gray old sweatpants. I went down the stairs to the kitchen where a plate of pancakes, eggs and sausages was waiting for me. I made myself a cup of coffee before joining her at the table.

"Why did you ask me to get ready?" I asked.

"We're doing something today."

"What are we doing?" I raised a brow at her. I could just tell she was up to something and I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it.

"Gardening..."

Called it. I disliked gardening.

"....we wouldn't be out for long though. Just until our fingers hurt."

"Mom!"

"Just kidding." she chuckled.

The day started off good. Simply good. Not bad and not the best. The sun wasn't the nicest and the only sound that filled the air was the serenade from the whistling birds that were nesting on the tree branch close to my room window. It was hot enough to not wear a sweater but chilly to put on a shirt at least. Overall, it was a good day for any outdoor activity but my body wasn't willing. I wanted nothing more than to bury my head under a blanket fort and sleep for a whole week. When it came to anything that involved the use of hands, I was invested in it. But gardening wasn't a trait that I shared in common with my mom. As much as I admired nature and its beauty, I hated digging my hands in dirt.

"Be serious, mom, how long are we going to be out there?" I asked after we finished our breakfast, washed the dishes and were set to go outside.

"I already told you. Till our fingers hurt," she turned without waiting for my reply.

I caught her low mischievous laugh. "Mom!" I groaned, marching after her.

She crossed the yard to where her little garden was. Gray had built it for her a few years before I left and she was obsessed with it still almost a decade after. She had a variety of flowers in different pots and what was even more amazing was that she had taken the time to sort them according to colour.

"What are we doing first?" I rested my hands on my hips as I stared cluelessly at the flowers as if they could give me a hint on how to help them.

"I'll teach you to plant. That's basically all you'd be doing. I'll do the major work."

"Do I really have to do this?

"Yes, baby. It's just a fun outdoor activity. You've been cooped up in your room since you got back. It's been three days."

"I just need more sleep. My head feels like mush," I groaned.

"That is because you wouldn't move around. There's no way blood would get to your brain if you don't exercise."

"How is this exercise?"

"I don't know. Consider it arm exercise."

I wished the plants would just shrivel and go back into the earth. I just wasn't interested and she knew this.

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