Page 5 of Catch and Release

“I mean, don’t you think that’s the natural next step?” Willa said. “Then we’d get to spend more time together, and it wouldn’t be so hard with you traveling for work all the time.”

Leo ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Wheels were turning in his brain, and he looked like he’d just worked an 18-hour day.

“I guess…,” Leo exhaled. “Yeah, you’re right. That is the natural next step.”

Willa beamed. As she reflected, though, she realized Leo never enthusiastically agreed to move in with her. He just admitted that that was where the relationship ought to go.

“So, you’re in?” she asked.

He gave her a too-big smile, one that she thought was overcompensating for his original response at the time, but now knew he was just trying to figure out his next move.

“I’m in.”

Willa squealed, leaned across the table, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Soooo,” she drew out the word. “Wanna start apartment hunting next week?”

“You sure are anxious to get this show on the road,” Leo quipped.

She smirked at him.

“Of course I am,” she said, running a finger down his muscular forearm.

“Apartment hunting next week sounds great,” he said.

They never got around to apartment hunting, though. It was only a few days later that she saw him at Chadwick’s, and she hadn’t heard from him since. She blocked his number and his email, and he hadn’t bothered to show up at her apartment.

Part of her was a little disappointed that he hadn’t tried harder to get an audience with her and explain himself, but then she just got mad at herself for even wanting anything from him anymore.

She shook her head, as if that could get Leo off her brain.

Distractions—that’s what she needed.

But this humidity? She could do without that distraction.

She thanked every god she could think of as the car pulled into the driveway.

“Thank you,” Willa said to her driver as he put the car in park.

“No problem,” he grunted, getting out of the car and unloading her luggage before she’d even fully opened the door.

She grabbed the handles of both of her rolling suitcases and pulled them up the front staircase. The humidity made her hands slick, and she accidentally dropped one.

“Well,” she huffed, speaking to nobody in particular, “I guess I’ll come back for that one.”

She pulled the other suitcase up the porch stairs, then looked under one of the potted plants for the key. She unlocked the door and let herself in, breathing in the A/C and the smell of her family home.

It had been a few years since she’d been back. This was the place where she’d grown up. She learned everything here: how to walk, how to ride a bike, how to read, how to cook, and of course, how to fish. Willa would bet that she learned how to fish before doing anything else. There were pictures of her from old photo albums where she was holding training fishing rods when she was still in diapers.

Sometimes, Willa thought her upbringing on the water was what drew her to yoga. The steady ebb and flow of the waves was like a vinyasa yoga practice, and the self-reliance to fish for her own lunch made her respect what her body was capable of.

Her grandparents died several years ago, giving her fewer reasons to come back. This was their home, the one she came to on most weekends, the one she visited for Thanksgivings and Christmases. They left it to the family, and she and her cousins and aunts and uncles all shared it. Nobody had stayed in it for at least six months, but a cleaning crew came regularly to make sure everything was taken care of.

Willa had emailed them all last week to see if they’d all be okay with her moving in. None of them had any issue with it; after all, the house had ten bedrooms. If they wanted to come visit, they could still do that, and they could avoid Willa if they really wanted to, given the size of the house.

She left the respite of the A/C for a moment to bring in her other suitcase, then dropped them in the room that was always hers. It was simple: just a four-poster bed, a small armchair, a dresser, and a closet filled with trinkets from her grandparents’ travels. She’d unpack and settle in later.

Right now, all she wanted was to breathe in the sea air. She stepped out on the back porch and closed her eyes, salty ocean wind kissing her cheeks, bits of sunlight peeking through the trees, and grinned.