We pulled into the Nicalls' driveway and Renae's mom, Karen, waved at me with a welcoming smile as she was busily 'de-weeding' the garden, as she called it. Gardening was her favorite pastime. Karen was like a second mother to me and I loved her immensely.
"Hey May!", She greeted with her eyes twinkling
"Hi Mrs. Nicall" I beamed. I always loved going over to their place because they made me feel at home, made me feel like I belong.
"For the thousandth time sweetie, call me Karen! " she chirped.
"Alright, hi Karen ", I replied.
My thoughts drifted to my mom, who always nagged me for little things like such formalities..
"And how are you today, dear?" She inquired with genuine concern and a heartwarming smile.
"Not too bad.. it's just that.. I wish I had a mother who's as understanding as you" I replied sadly.
"Tut tut, don't say that, love. She's your mother, and she loves you relentlessly.. trust me, I know the feeling. Give her a chance, will you", She advised.
Sighhh. Never in a million years, I gave up on giving her chances. SHE JUST WON'T CHANGE.
"Alright.."
"May! Get your lazy butt up here, we're running late!" cried Renae from upstairs.
"Oopsie," I giggled as I dashed upstairs.
YOU ARE READING
My Side Of The Story
Novela JuvenilThis is an intense story about an Indian girl battling against the culture clashes she encounters when she moves to the USA. Work in progress. ✌️
