Times Three (X3)

CHAPTER 21 - I'm Yours

Previously On Triplets Apart:
Jada gets dressed up and flys to Illinois where she meets her biological mother for the very first time. Before leaving L.A, she calls Tariq and settles her vendetta against him, claiming that it's not her place to be upset.

***

Her caramel laced, supple skin, her nose, even the bored expression she wears unknowingly on her face.. she's everything that I am.

"Young lady." She tilts her head to the side as I blink a few times back to life.

"Heh.. hello." I stutter, lost for speech so I extend an arm..

She looks at my hand before shaking it uncomfortably. A warm feeling travels beneath my skin, feeling her flesh for the first time. All my life, I should've been often wrapped in her arms and secured with her warm comfort.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Her brows crinkle.. just like mine would.

"Susan Grey?" I ask.

"Yes?" She says hesitantly.

"I need to.. speak to you.. about something." I ramble.

"Why?"

"Trust me, it's very important." I plea to let her realize that I'm serious.. that this is serious. She searches my eyes for a few seconds in consideration and I hope she found her answers.

"I don't know you from anywhere. What's this about? Speak here." Her eyes narrows at me.

"You don't know me and you have no reason to trust me.. but believe me, it's very important, I swear to God. You can search me if you like and I came alone." I plea with clasped hands, letting her see that I'm desperate, as much as how hard it is to seem vulnerable. She scans me curiously with her eyes from head to toe.

"Follow me." She tells me hesitantly as she walks pass me. Her steps comes to a halt then she looks at me with knitted brows as if she's thinking something. She then retreats into the house.

I enter after her, realizing it's nice and simple inside and there's vases filled with flowers almost everywhere. She does loves flowers. She heads around the back area as I stay rooted to my spot, nervously trying to find a loose strand on my leather pants to play with which I actually think is impossible. She returns without her bags.

"Uhm, so I haven't cooked yet.. would you like a slice of banana bread and some lemonade? Or something.."

I wouldn't say she's being polite, at least this is her version of that term. You cannot sense her generosity by her face expression, hell, you'd think she's mean.. instead, its visible in her eyes and in her voice. She doesn't want to come off as too nice but she certainly is if you should look closer behind the mental walls she'd built. But why? She is scared, she doesn't trust and I want to know why. She is totally my mother. I almost choke on my own breath at the thought but not in a bad way.

I'm so happy for my dad, well, my adopted dad. I can observe people without asking even one question.

"Yes, thank you."

She turns away and returns with the banana bread on a small plate and a tall glass of ice cold lemonade. As I taste the banana bread, it is one of the most divine thing I've ever eaten.

"God damn, this is amazing." My speech comes off muffled from my stuffed mouth.

"You shouldn't talk with a mouth filled with food." She scolds me with a half smile. I swallow and take a sip of her refreshing lemonade then brush my hands together.