Page 38 of Running Home to You
She lingered as Kate climbed the steps, chattering without realizing Abby wasn’t following behind her. While they were together, Abby realized she was still waiting. For what, she couldn’t say for sure, except maybe more.
The windsurfers and boats in the river bobbed like distant bathtub toys from the condo’s perch on the ridge. Kate didn’t know how much money professors made, but Isla’s curated home suggested a certain air of wealth. Everything about her did, even with her bare feet and oversize button-down billowing in the breeze as they ate dinner on the deck. It made Kate even more self-conscious to join the professor off campus, but when Abby invited her, she didn’t dare say no. Lately, Kate would’ve blindly agreed to just about anything for another minute with her.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. Ever since Abby started spending time with you, she’s been getting better. Lighter even,” Isla said when Abby left the table.
“She does seem better.” Kate glanced at her untouched wine. “But I don’t think it’s because of me.”
Isla angled her chin to the side. “Seriously? Give yourself credit. You’re really special to her.”
“She’s special to me too.” Kate considered her wine and wondered if it might settle the jitters she hadn’t shaken since Abby picked her up. She’d gotten used to enduring the giddiness in the brief moments they touched, in a gaze held too long, in the anticipation of their next meeting, but never had it consumed her so fully that she struggled to touch her dinner.
“You’re not talking shit about me, are you?” Abby plopped back into the seat next to her.
“No.” Isla winked at Kate. “I was just telling her I know a great civil rights attorney she should intern with in the fall.”
Kate shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t want to impose, and you’ve already done too much,” she said. Isla insisted on writing Kate a letter of recommendation for law school and connected her with her vast network of attorneys and professors to help beef up her applications.
“It’s not imposing. Luca would be lucky to have you.”
“See, babysitting me might pay off.” Abby sipped her wine.
Kate frowned. “Don’t say that.”
She spent so much of dinner trying not to look at her too long that when she allowed herself a glimpse, it surprised her all over again. Abby’s inky hair, long and wavy, her tan skin visible beneath a tank top, shorts, and tired leather sandals. A stark contrast to the Abby on the field or in the classroom. A starker contrast to winter Abby, who trudged through the cold in layers of faded hoodies, well-worn flannels, and tattered jeans, never without a beanie. This Abby, sun-kissed and languid as if she belonged on the beach, was so natural it was as if Kate witnessed her return to herself with the change of seasons. And perhaps that’s what made it more beautiful—that she’d seen her through the winter. Just like when she smiled or laughed, it struck deeper knowing that she’d once seen her broken.
Never on trend or fashionable, Kate had tried on a dozen outfits before dinner, finally settling on white jeans and a chambray shirt. Upon picking her up, Abby beamed and told her she looked pretty. Kate could barely mutter thank you. Just as she barely picked up on the conversation about her possible internship with her focus fully absorbed by Abby’s lips.
“So, this attorney doesn’t happen to be the one you moved here for, is it?”
“Is this the moment you decide to become an annoying younger sister?” Isla tossed her napkin at a snickering Abby. “I didn’t move here for him.”
“He lives here?” Kate asked.
“No. No, he’s in Portland.” Isla swirled her wine. “He did his undergraduate at Insley and recommended me for the job here. But yes, he is my ex, and yes, he just happens to live forty-five minutes away.”
“Youreallyhaven’t seen him since you came back here?” Abby asked.
Isla bit her lip and stared out at the water. “No.”
Abby bumped Kate’s knee beneath the table and raised a brow at her. Much like on the field, Kate didn’t need her to explain. She wanted her to ask Isla for more details, so that she couldn’t rebuff Abby as a pesky sibling.
“Why not?” Kate asked, though she didn’t truly wonder. Not as she obsessed over Abby’s leg leaving hers, and the pleasant static it left behind.
“It was a tough breakup. It was my fault really.” Isla paused for a drink. “We met at law school, and I adored him. He wasn’t like the rest of the Yale crowd. To this day he acts embarrassed to mention it.” She smirked and then frowned again. “My mom wasn’t a fan. She wanted me with someone whowaslike the rest of the Yale crowd.”
Kate’s parents suddenly flashed through her mind. They certainly didn’t require a Yale man, but a devout, honorable Christian was required. They already beheld Blake like Moses himself, and each time she called home they asked about him, unsubtly following up with the importance of marriage and children.
Usually, it didn’t bother Kate. She always deflected with law school, but now it put a wrench in her stomach. She was overcome by a wave of nausea as she glanced at Abby—one she wouldn’t allow herself to ponder too deeply.
“She’s not why I ended things though. I mean, maybe a little. Luca wanted marriage, and with my parents’ track record, I’m not inclined to throw my hat into the ring.” Isla shrugged. “So, I went into family law like I always planned, settling big, nasty New York divorces, hating myself even though I thought it might make sense of the ones I witnessed as a kid. I tried dating someone in the Yale crowd, even brought him back to San Diego. Until one day I woke up and realized I hated every part of my life. I couldn’t go to work, I couldn’t get up, I could barely explain it to my boyfriend or my colleagues or myself. Now I think it’s because I was always lonely, and it finally caught up with me.”
For the first time that dinner, Kate could see how clearly Abby and Isla were kin. In how despite her hunched shoulders, the glimmer didn’t leave her gaze. In how easily they teased each other, despite only knowing one another a few months. Kate had six siblings, but never talked to them with such openness or depth. Instead, they’d grown up side by side like silent parishoners. And while she’d spent her childhood surrounded, Kate related to Isla’s loneliness, as if she too had been kept from family.
“Then I saw the job posting here, at this little school that I only knew of because of Luca. It felt like a sign. I asked him for a recommendation and here we are. Hiding out in the hills.” Isla smiled at Abby. “But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel lonely.”
“Well, cheers to that.” Abby raised a glass and the three of them clinked for a toast. “You know, maybe the timing was just wrong with Luca. I bet he’ll be happy to take your call about Kate’s internship.”
“That’s not why I was offering.” Isla shook her head.
