Page 21 of Catch and Release

Ida cleared her throat and gave her a pointed look.

“Grams,” Willa corrected herself, trying to bite back a bemused grin. “I wouldn’t say I’m in ‘cahoots’ with your grandson.”

She used air quotes around the word “cahoots.”

“But I’d love to call you Grams.”

“Well that’s settled then,” Ida said, brisk and business-like, but with a smile on her face.

They started walking toward the Bayou, the marshy stream that fed into the Bay—the place where Willa went when she was looking for the occasional appearance of an alligator or heron.

“I usually try to walk to the Bayou and back every morning. It’s just over a mile and helps me get my steps in.”

“Well if you go around this time every morning, I’d love to join you,” Willa said.

“I’d love that, sweetie,” Ida responded. “Now, tell me. How are you settling in?”

Willa relished the way it felt to have Ida look after her. She was raised mostly by her grandparents and her nannies while her parents were off jet-setting, and since both her grandparents died, she hadn’t felt this looked after in a while. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing Ida cared about her. It made her ache with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years.

“It’s fine,” she said. “The house is exactly like I remember it. I got a job teaching yoga classes at The Beachside Inn. I start tonight. So that should be good.”

“Good for you,” Ida said. “But tell me, how are you really doing?”

Willa wanted to cry. She couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her that and genuinely wanted to know the answer.

“I’m alright,” she said, her voice breaking a bit.

“Oh, honey,” Ida came to a stop and drew her into a tight hug. Shawn’s grandmother was a few inches shorter, but Willa still felt engulfed. Her eyes burned with tears that slowly began falling, and she buried her head in Ida’s shoulder for a moment before pulling back.

“I’m sorry,” Willa said.

“Nothing to be sorry for, dear,” Ida said. “We can turn around if you want. I can make a pot of tea.”

“No, I’m okay. Let’s keep walking.”

They continued in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Willa felt a strange connection to Ida—this woman she vaguely remembered from childhood, who was friends with her grandmother, and who would probably bring her another homemade treat this week. Before she knew it, Willa was spilling everything.

Her sordid dating history.

How she found out about Leo.

How she felt like she needed a break from men for a while.

How she’d never felt more alone.

How sometimes, she thought the anxiety of it all would swallow her whole.

By the time she finished talking, her tears were dry and they were almost back to Ida’s house. Ida ushered her inside, and true to her word, she made a pot of tea. Even though it was hot and humid, it still felt comforting for Willa to take a sip of the tea and warm up her insides.

“Listen, hon,” Ida said. “I wish I could bottle up this pain you’re feeling and take it from you. All I can say is, most men in this life are trash, but some of ‘em are worth holding onto. But you know what matters more than any of that?”

Ida took a sip of her tea.

“You. You matter, sweetie. And I’m proud of you for kicking ol’ Leo to the curb and making him shake in his boots while you were at it. Now you’ve gotta learn how to trust yourself again, and that can be tricky business. But I’m here for you, alright? You come over and see me anytime.”

Willa smiled at Ida, warmth flowing through her.

“Thanks, Grams.”

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