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“You what?”
“On a farm.”
“You what?!”
“With cows, horses and chickens.”
“You WHAT?”
“And yoga.”
She laughs like a balloon popped, “I love this for you!” Brady’s call has gone to voicemail, which he’ll hate.
“I’ll report more when I get there. Listen, I have to go. I just found the shuttle driver, and if I were twenty years older…oh, he’s wearing a ring. Never mind.”
We hang up without ‘goodbye’ — very common for me and Gem — and I introduce myself to the silver-haired hunk of an if-only, “Hi, I’m Willow Windheim.”
“Jaxson Cocker, co-owner of Sunflower. We’re just waiting for a few more people.”
I flash a smile to five other people gathered near him, my mind on Brady, their luggage and expectant smiles letting me know they’re also guests. “I just have to call back someone, since we’re not leaving right away.” Stepping a few feet from my Sunflower group, I press his name from the missed-call list and he picks up immediately.
“Thor is staring like he doesn’t know me.”
“You bought him for me, Brady! He loves you.”
“He’s pretending he doesn’t know me. To piss me off.”
“Just wanted to say I’ve got my luggage, and met up with the retreat’s owner. I’m all safe. I need this. Please give him the best time. Park every day at 4:30, remember? His friends are all there.”
My ex groans, “Every day.”
“He’ll be a much happier dog. And a happier dog is a nicer dog.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I’m gone for only ten days!”
“Ten of the longest days of my life.”
“You’re so supportive, you know that? Are you going to keep stressing me out with this? Because relaxing is kinda against the whole point of my leaving town.”
“I promise to not call you.” He pauses. “Too much.”
“I love you, Brady.”
“Love you too, Willow.”
Hanging up, I lock onto warm, curious, emerald eyes. Was Jaxson Cocker — who, in my opinion has the best surname ever — listening to my conversation? Our group has fleshed out since I arrived and our host announces, sign falling to his side as he pulls out keys from a worn back pocket on his way outside. “Everyone is here. Follow me.”
The sound of nine rolling suitcases in motion is our soundtrack for an exciting adventure now begun.
FIVE
Willow
We’re fairly quiet until we leave Atlanta, everyone in their own worlds as we watch a new city fly by us. The freeway’s view of the suburbs outside provide little newness to see — what with the sound wall. As soon as we hit the countryside I exhale, feeling lighter. Taking it upon myself to start introductions, I tell everyone present, “I’m Willow, from Venice, California. Where are you all from?”
One half of a couple — both with with Mom and Dad bods — introduces the two of them, “I’m Maggie, and this is my husband, Pete.” He waves briefly as she continues, “We flew in from Cleveland, Ohio.”
