19. Finals Footy

Willo

The last month has been a blur. We’ve won every game and have finished on top of the ladder.

Billy and Paige are now thick as thieves. Billy thinks he’s taught Paige how to drive the tractor, and we’ve humoured him. My eldest son has even gone back to playing football again. The plan had been to send Billy to Bayview Grammar next year, but I discovered Dylan and his mates were heading there. Billy has asked to look at a few other high schools in the area. Basha and Angelique’s nephew is at St Thomas Aquinas. I never imagined sending my kids to a Catholic school, but if it suits Billy, then I can’t object.

After missing that there was something wrong with Billy, I figured I’d be a little proactive, so the three kids are back in therapy. Billy’s therapist says he’s doing so well and has confirmed he has a strong and positive relationship with his siblings, family members, and Paige. I knew he didn’t hate Paige, but hearing this from his therapist was a huge relief.

I remember pacing the hotel in Perth, waiting for Paige to call me back to see what trouble Billy was in. I couldn’t believe he had actually punched another kid, but then again, I’d almost punched another player on the ground the weekend before.

Paige called and said everything was fine and that she and Billy were heading off for a burger and shake. That evening, she explained what had happened. Her openness with Billy made me love her even more, because yes, I do love her, not that I’ve told her yet. She and Billy bonded over maternal abandonment. Billy gets Cara didn’t have a choice, and it was a freak accident, but he’s never been exposed to others who haven’t had a mother in their lives.

We won the first final convincingly and had a week off before the Preliminary Final last Saturday night against our archrivals, the Panthers. It felt amazing to beat them. They were never really in the game.

Next Saturday is the Grand Final. We’re playing the Sydney Serpents, one of a handful teams who beat us this year, and the side that has gone from the bottom of the ladder last year to finish third in the home and away season. It’s a pretty good effort, and it seems most of the country is behind them. Aussie’s love a story of battlers, and the Serpents have shown their battling spirit all season.

And things with Paige… Well, I think they’re going well. When I asked her to be my date to tonight’s Brownlow Medal count, she thought I was joking. It actually took me a few days to convince her I was totally serious and would be thrilled to have her on my arm.

I’ve learnt that I can worship her body and kiss every stretch mark and patch of cellulite, but I still need to remind her how sexy I find her with words. To think guys like Lyle J exist who belittle women who they don’t see as being aesthetically pleasing makes me want to throat punch him. I’m hoping she comes to see how beautiful I think she is.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Paige as we turn into the Casino hotel. It’s school holidays, and the kids are in Lovemore Gap, gearing up to watch Paige and me on the red carpet tonight. Except it won’t be just me and Paige. Their Gaga will be here on the arm of our coach. I’m happy for Mum, but still find it a little strange.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Paige bites her lip. “I never went to prom. I’ve never worn a dress like this. Jenna has done an amazing job.”

I haven’t seen any photos of the dress, but after each fitting, Paige has come home and told me how amazing her new friend is. I don’t think Jenna’s slept for weeks. She’s dressing most of the women from the Panthers who are going tonight, and a few women from other clubs. Plus, she and Wilson get married in a month, and she’s been designing her own wedding dress.

“Believe it, baby,” I tell her as we step out of the car and I hand my keys to the valet. Paige is clutching her purse. In it is the diamond bracelet a Bayview Cove jeweller has made for her. Paige thinks it’s on loan, but I’ve already paid for it. She’ll be wearing it again and again.

Bel, Jenna, Angelique, Paige, and my mother are all getting ready together. A team of hair and makeup artists will transform our women. Wilson suggested us guys play arcade games, but Matty put his foot down, and we’ve agreed to meet up at the hotel gym and then shoot some pockets in the poolroom. I don’t care what we do as long as it takes our minds off the Grand Final this weekend.

This will be the third Grand Final I’ve played in for the Monarchs. We won one of those. The other guys have played in four and only won one. I’d love to say I feel confident about beating the Serpents this weekend, but both teams are in great form. I slept very little Saturday night after the game. Paige has used some great distraction techniques, but I don’t think I can spend the entire week fucking her brains out, as pleasurable as that is.

“It’s my big baby.” Mum greets me with a hug and leans up to kiss me when I enter the suite where the ladies are being made up. It’s actually Jenna and Wilson’s suite and just down the corridor from ours.

“The men are next door in our suite,” Bel tells me as she takes Paige from me and leads her to a makeup chair. This place is crowded. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of her.”

I know they will. I’m just a sop who also knows he’ll miss his girlfriend this afternoon.

“Bye then,” I call across the room and turn for the door .

I’m opening it when I feel a hand tug at my arm. I spin around to find Paige smiling up at me. She takes my cheeks so tenderly in her hands and kisses me as if we are alone. It’s not meant for public consumption, but the women in the room cheer.

“Have fun,” she says as we part our lips.

The tips of her ears are red, a sure sign of arousal in her, and I know she can feel me poking her stomach. As much as I want to drag her down the corridor to our room, we both have things to do. I’ll have to calm my cock before knocking on Matty’s door, or I’ll never hear the end of it.

At the start of the season, if anyone had ever told me I’d be head over heels in love again, I would have asked them what they’re smoking. How so much has changed.

Paige

So many times over the last few weeks, I’ve come close to telling Willo I love him. I’ve told the kids repeatedly, but not their amazing and sexy father.

When Willo first told me he expected me to be on his arm tonight, I thought he was joking. This is football’s night of nights. Little did I know, Jenna had already started designing a gown for me. It’s perfect. Angelique and Bel took me shopping for accessories a few weekends ago. They knew of little boutiques that had exactly what we were chasing.

I had a breakthrough at therapy with Marj, too. She made me realise I am healthy, and Willo worships my body as it is. I’ve read several books on body positivity too. Sure, I don’t want to get any bigger, because I know I might have some health issues down the track, but I’m happy as I am.

My hair has been swept into the most amazing up-do. There are at least eleventy-jillion pins holding it in place, and the hole in the ozone layer is probably larger from the number of cans of spray the stylist used, but it looks chic and sophisticated. I never thought I’d use those words to describe me .

Lulu, my makeup artist, has also been a star. I told her I didn’t wear a lot of makeup. She’s created a look that highlights my eyes and has given me the tube of peach-coloured lipstick. She reminded me that subtle eyes require dark lips, and vivid eyes require subtle lips. I’ll try to remember that in the future. My eyes aren’t that vividly adorned with powders and potions, but they stand out.

All four of us look like we’re ready for a magazine spread. Bel has organised robes for us with our partner’s playing number on the back. Lenore’s says Coach. Our guys aren’t drinking this week leading up to the Grand Final, and we’ve supported them in this endeavour. The glasses of juice the hotel supplied have been amazing. A glass of champagne would calm my nerves about now, though.

The red carpet presentations start in half an hour. Jenna wants photos of us in our dresses and has a photographer on hand with professional lighting. It’s all for her portfolio. I get a few minutes to myself in the bathroom as I change into the lingerie I bought for the evening. The gown has a built-in corset, so I don’t need a bra, but I have some sexy black lace panties, and a garter belt holds up the black silk hose I’m wearing.

And the gown, well, it’s a masterpiece. All of them are. Lenore is in gold sequins and looks twenty-years younger than she should, and that’s saying something, as I have trouble believing she’s in her fifties as it is. Bel is in a pale-pink gown with an empire waist. She thinks she hasn’t lost all the baby fat from her pregnancy earlier this year. Layer upon layer of chiffon drape to the ground, and the feathered clutch she holds sets off the look remarkably well.

Angelique is in an emerald-green silk number that slinks over her curves and makes her look a million dollars. Basha is going to lose it when he sees her and the split that ends at her hip bone. It’s daring and incredibly sexy. Jenna has bucked the trend and designed herself a satin jumpsuit in sky blue to match her eyes. It is totally backless. The silver stilettos she’s paired it with make her legs seem even longer. I know she’ll be talked about over and over again tonight.

Lenore gasps and wipes a tear from her eye when I emerge from the bedroom where Jenna has been dressing me. I’m in black satin with Monarch-purple piping. I tried to object that the corset style made my tits look bigger than they are, but Jenna knows what she’s doing. The skirt is almost Elizabethan with some structure to make the skirt seem wider. I told her it shouldn’t work on a larger woman, but she told me to trust her, and I’m glad I did. I have purple shoes and a purple clutch, the diamond bracelet I borrowed clasped firmly around my wrist.

“Let me just…” Lenore steps forward with her phone and snaps a photo, telling me she’s already sent it to Charlene, who is with the kids tonight.

There’s a knock at the door, and the men enter. They all look hot in their dinner suits, but Willo looks the hottest, hands down.

“Fuck, you look incredible.” Willo keeps looking me up and down, his mouth hanging open as he holds my hand.

Photos are taken, many sent through to Kim, who is uploading them to our socials for us tonight.

Lenore and Gaz look sweet together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Monarchs’ coach so animated and so, well, smiley.

“Where’s Silver?” Jenna asks as she sends photos through to Kim.

“He and Jedda are outside.” Matty smiles.

“I thought he was asking Kim to be his date,” Jenna adds, not looking up from her phone.

“My daughters do not date players,” Gaz’s booming voice comes across the room.

“And yet, you date a player’s mum,” Basha observes with a chuckle. He’s game to talk to the coach like that.

“That’s different,” Gaz splutters.

Lenore pats him on the arm, and we make our way to the elevators.

“Paige.” Bel pulls me aside as we wait for the elevators. “I just got a message from a friend. Did you know Lyle J is hosting the Red Carpet Arrivals tonight? Apparently, with all the Serpent fever, the network flew him in at the last minute.”

My heart drops. Of all the people. “Willo, I can’t…”

“Baby, you can.” He tips my chin up so I look at him. “You can strut that carpet and show that weasel how wrong he was. Just stop me from throat punching him, okay?”

I nod, trying not to cry. It’s not that I don’t deserve Willo, but being here reminds me of how much he elevates me, how all the Monarchs’ elevate me, from Darren, who will be my new boss come December after I accepted his offer of a job, to the players and their wives, to all the amazing folks we’ve had on our podcast.

“You look hot, Paige,” Jedda tells me as we cram in the elevator to travel downstairs.

“And you look dashing in your suit.” I smile at him. “We must catch up for hot chocolate again.”

He beams at me. “Yes. And I hope Willo bones you tonight.”

Everyone laughs, and I can’t help but give Jedda a hug. Of all the people Silver could have brought with him, the fact he chose Jedda to be his partner says more about him and his kindness and empathy than anything else. I know he would have loved to bring Kim. He’s been sweet on her for ages, according to Willo.

My phone is on silent and not vibrating, but I know I’ll have plenty of messages on there. Ricky isn’t here tonight. He was suspended early in the season for a rough tackle, so he’s ineligible for the award and therefore not invited. All afternoon, he’s sent me encouraging messages and told me I’ll look hot. He and Jedda must go to the same school of adjective use.

There are a few players and their partners waiting ahead of us to walk the carpet. Willo greets them with a handshake and introduces us. I know some of them by sight.

“Babe, can you please put in a transfer to the Monarchs?” one of their wives asks. “It’s the only way I’ll ever score a Jenna Ball original for Brownlow night.”

We all laugh. Jenna tells her to call her in March, and she’ll see what she can arrange.

Gaz and Lenore walk the carpet. Lenore rolls her eyes, and I suspect Lyle has said something inappropriate. It is his MO, after all.

“And here we have Willo Lovemore, one of tonight’s favourites for the medal. Ma-a-a-te.” Lyle greets Willo like a long-lost friend, but Willo leaves his arm hanging in the air, refusing to shake it. “And who is your… Fuck, is that you, Paige? No way.”

“I forgot you knew Paige.” Willo grips my hand tightly, his use of the past tense not lost on me. “Isn’t she amazing? She is just the complete package. I mean, people know what I’ve been through, but to find love again. It’s special.”

“And this is another Jenna Ball original, I presume?” his female counterpart asks. I hate she is there solely for the fashion.

“It is.” I do a little twirl. “Jenna’s made me feel like a princess. But you look lovely, too.”

She blushes, clearly not used to people complimenting her. I suspect if she’s been hanging around with Lyle, she won’t have heard too many compliments. “Thanks. And you, of course, are The Yank from The Yank and The Tank podcast that we all tune into each week. Did you record a show today?”

“No.” I smile. “We recorded it yesterday.”

“I can’t wait to listen. And tell me, Paige, are you staying here at the end of the year? I think there’s been some talk about your visa situation.”

“She’s—” Lyle starts, but I talk over the top of him.

“I am.” I squeeze Willo’s hand and gaze up at him. “The Monarchs have offered me an amazing job, which I’ll be starting in December, and I’m hoping before long, I’ll be an Aussie.”

“Well, we can’t wait to have you.” She beams at me. Lyle is sulking in the background.

We move on, but I hear Lyle talking to someone. “Did you see the tits on her? Fuck me.”

Willo heard him too, because he turns back. “Oh yeah, Lyle, they’re amazing, just like the rest of her. But please, don’t sexualise her again. She’s more than?—”

“Willo,” I scold and drag him away. I don’t want the media to get a soundbite that the kids might hear.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his shoulders dropping as we enter the ballroom.

“Don’t be. You were perfect. There were cameras rolling, that’s all. Lyle wants to bait you.” I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. He’s just told the world he loves me, and he’s shown it over and over again.

I couldn’t tell you what the meal was at the dinner or what anyone else wore, because I’m so excited to be here and feel like Willo is my real-life James Bond in his suit. I can’t wait to rip it off him later. Willo had laughed off being a favourite, noting he missed the first several games of the season. The surrounding tables are filled with players whose seasons are over, and the beers have been flowing.

“And so, we head into the last round of the home and away season,” the emcee announces. “We have Leigh Montachuk from the Redbacks on twenty-eight points, Willo Lovemore from the Monarchs on twenty-seven points, and Cody Hopper from the Warriors, Mick Miller from the Serpents, and Clem Possum from the Panthers all on twenty-six points. This really could be anyone’s medal.”

Willo tenses next to me. I know he played a great game in the final round. From memory, the Redbacks lost, but I can’t recall how Leigh played. The three players behind him might all have scored and might pip Willo for the medal. His words to his kids from our trip to Brisbane ring in my ears. I had fun playing today, even if we lost. I know Willo has fun each time he plays, but I’m desperate for him to win tonight.

I clasp his hand under the table. It’s sweaty, but I don’t care. Each game awards either one, two, or three points to a player. The Serpents played the Panthers in the last game of the season, and it was a draw. Teams with players who aren’t near the top of the leader board are announced. It then comes to the Serpents Panthers game.

“Mick Miller, Sydney Serpents, one point.” He’s drawn level with Willo.

“Clem Possum, Peninsula Panthers, two points.” He’s now one ahead of Willo. I can’t even hear who scores the three points.

“The Perth Blacks versus the West Melbourne Warriors,” the emcee continues. “Cody Hooper, West Melbourne Warriors, one point.” Cody draws level with Willo, but there are now two players ahead of him .

The Redbacks game is announced, and Leigh doesn’t score a vote. They’ve only got the Monarchs verses Devils game to go.

“Cooper Sterling, Bayview Monarchs, one point.” We all offer a clap to Sterling, who hasn’t done too badly.

“Matty McLaughlin, Bayview Monarchs, two points.” Silence hangs over the room.

I swear the emcee takes a series of breaths. The other announcements didn’t take this long.

“William Lovemore, Bayview Monarchs—” He can’t even get out the three votes as the room explodes in applause. “The winner of the Brownlow Medal is William Lovemore from the Bayview Monarchs.”

Willo sits there, a stunned look on his face. Lenore is sitting on his other side and leans in and kisses his cheek. He shakes his head and blows out a breath.

“You won, baby,” I whisper in his ear.

He turns to me, and our foreheads meet before he places a much chaster kiss than I gave him earlier today on my lips.

He’s ushered to the stage, where the medal is placed around his neck by last year’s winner. A toast is made, and then Willo is asked to give a speech.

“I, um, didn’t prepare anything.” He holds up the medal and studies it before looking back at our table. “I mean, I missed the first—how many rounds was it?”

I can imagine Felicity screaming at the television, telling Willo how right they were to hold him back a week.

“I was a little grumpy at the start of the season. I didn’t travel with the team to Sydney, and then I had to watch on at home from the sidelines. But I met Paige.” A camera pans to me, and I blow him a kiss as I wipe a tear from my eye. “Most of you know I had a rough time a few years back. I wondered if I’d ever get back into the game again. I seriously thought of retirement. But I also knew that it’s not what Cara, or Suzie, or Dad would have wanted. I wish they were here to celebrate with me tonight, but they’re not.”

The room is silent. I look around, and people are wiping tears from their eyes. “But if they were here, then Mum wouldn’t be here with my coach, and yes, not that they need it, but they have my blessing.” The room laughs. “And Gaz, not all of us players are neanderthals. Perhaps give your daughters some leeway into choosing who they want to be with and not tell us we can’t go near them.”

The room laughs again, possibly thinking it’s a joke that no one can date the coach’s daughters, but it’s not. I hope the microphones don’t catch Jedda saying he’s going to ask Kim if he can date her.

“And I wouldn’t be here with Paige. Paige, you’re bloody amazing. Oh, and Billy, Jacko, and Lunes, you all are too, and if you’re still up, get to bed.”

Willo thanks the coaches and fitness staff from the club. The emcee asks him questions about the upcoming Grand Final, which Willo gives the stock standard answers to. The Sydney players aren’t here tonight, but the ceremony is being live streamed into a function they are attending at their home ground.

As much as I am proud of Willo for being voted the best and fairest player of the competition this year, I know it will mean little unless they win on Saturday.

Willo has had a mammoth week. He has done so much media and answered so many questions. At one stage, we set up a television studio in the family room so he didn’t have to travel into Melbourne to appear on every football related program.

It’s the Grand Final Day. Willo is as prepared as he’ll ever be. He’s tried to explain some of the pomp and pageantry that will be on show today, but nothing could have prepared me for the spectacle of it all. I’ve never been one to watch the Super Bowl, but I suspect this is the Aussie equivalent.

There’s pregame entertainment with an international rock act having everyone out of their seats. As family and friends, we’re sitting in a block together. Brad isn’t here, which I’m almost grateful for, but Lenore, Murray, Charlene, and Tina are here in their Monarchs kit, along with Billy, Jackson, and Luna. Nicola and Gio were offered tickets, but turned them down. I’ve met parents and siblings of other players, too.

Ricky texted me he wasn’t cheering for either side, but I know he has a soft spot for the Monarchs, seeing his nan lives in Bayview Cove. He’s at a party with some friends and has warned me he’s planning on getting munted, seeing he’s not playing this weekend.

After the national anthem, the players take their positions. A hush descends on the ground as the siren sounds and the first quarter begins. The Serpents are on fire. They clear the ball and have the first goal of the game in the first twenty seconds. Before I can blink, they’ve scored three more in quick succession. The Monarchs are yet to score.

They aren’t giving up, though. The ball is back in the centre. The umpire bounces it, and Declan taps it down towards Willo, who finally sends it into Monarchs’ territory. It’s scrappy play, but at least it’s at our scoring end. Silver is offline with a snap for goal, but at least the Monarchs are on the board. Play is held up over and over as players dive on the ball. It’s a warmer spring day, and the sun is shining, but it doesn’t appear to be shining for the Monarchs. At quarter time, the Serpents lead by twenty-seven points to the three the Monarchs managed.

Bel is sitting in the row in front of me and has been up and down all afternoon. I hope she’s alright. Jenna is with her and pulls out a packet of crackers and a bottle of water for her. I tell myself that at least I’m not nervous enough to throw up.

The Serpents score the first goal of the second quarter, giving them a thirty-three-point lead. Finally, Wilson slots one through for the Monarchs, but the Serpents answer with two more. With a thirty-nine-point lead, my heart is breaking. I know there are still two and a half quarters to play, but the Serpents look in control of the game.

More scrappy play ensues with no scoring from either side until Willo breaks away from the pack and sends the ball into the Monarchs’ scoring zone, where Wilson takes what everyone around us decides is the mark of the century. His feet are on his opponent’s shoulders as he flies in the air and comes down with the ball in his hands. He slots it through for his, and the Monarchs’, second goal. The Monarch’s score again, and the lead at halftime is the same as at quarter time.

Every time the Monarchs score at the start of the third, the Serpents reply, finally scoring two in a row to head into the final quarter trailing by twenty-three points. Gaz is fired up as he addresses his team at the final change. I haven’t given up on them.

The final quarter starts, and the Monarchs score in the first two minutes. Seventeen points behind. It’s a low-scoring game, and not up to the standard both sides have shown throughout the year. The Monarch’s Cheer Squad is trying to rev up the crowd, but the Serpents also have a fairly sizeable supporter base present. The noise the crowd makes is deafening. There are ten minutes left on the clock. Somehow, Willo comes out of a pack with the ball, bounces it a few times as he sprints down the wing, and sends it towards Wilson, who stands in the goal square with the Serpents’ fullback.

Wilson runs out to meet the ball, but must sense the trajectory and purposefully overruns it, holding the defensive player back—I’ve learned this is called a shepherd—as the ball bounces through for another goal. We trail by eleven points. The Serpents clear the ball from the centre bounce, but Basha is strong in defence, sending the ball forward. It bounces poorly for Matty and is scooped up by a Serpent player, who sends it back towards their goal.

Once again, Willo steals the ball and kicks it to Matty, who handballs it to Willo, who’s running past and through the centre of the ground. He kicks it towards the goal square, where a pack of players congregate. No one marks the ball, and the umpire throws it up again. Out of nowhere, Willo has the ball, snaps, and sends it through the middle of the sticks. We trail by five points with three minutes until the final siren. The Serpents haven’t scored this quarter.

As for most of the game, the play is scrappy, with players diving on the ball, unable to clear it to either end. I glance at the clock. Two minutes left. Our area is in silence. The ball is slowly heading towards the Monarch’s goal, but not quick enough. A free kick is paid to a Serpents’ player, which I clearly didn’t think was there, but I also know I’m biased. The nerves of the situation must get to him, leading him to kick the ball out on the full, giving the Monarchs a free kick.

The ball is in Basha’s hands. There’s about a minute on the clock. We need to score. Basha winds up and kicks the ball sixty meters. I can’t see what’s happening, but I feel people pat me on the back and shoulder.

“Daddy’s got the ball,” Luna screams.

Willo has taken a mark about forty meters out on the boundary line. It’s an almost impossible angle. Silence envelopes the ground. Willo takes a step towards the goals just as the final siren sounds. He’s allowed to kick after the siren, but there are all sorts of rules that I don’t totally understand. All I know is it has to go straight through the middle of the sticks.

The player on the mark tries to put Willo off by waving his arms in the air. I can’t look. If he scores a goal, we win by one point. If he misses, we lose by four. Soon, the silence is broken by screaming. Everyone around us is screaming and jumping in the air.

“He did it, Paige.” Lenore hugs me as I stand. “It was never in doubt.”

Wait, the Monarchs won? We’re the premiers? I can’t begin to describe how I feel. Elated doesn’t cover it. The kids are screaming and jumping up and down. Baby Hugo is crying, even though he has headphones on to block out the noise. The Monarchs’ song rings out around the ground.

The Serpents’ players are lying on the ground. They didn’t even score in the last quarter. It wasn’t a pretty game of football, but it means we won the Premiership. Darren and Kim appear to round up partners and children, and we’re ushered down onto the ground. I drag Lenore with me, seeing she’s a partner now. We don’t see our players until after they’ve been presented with their medallions and the team has hoisted the cup aloft, but when they come over, more celebrations ensue.

Matty and Wilson stand to one side in tears, their arms around each other, whilst their partners look on. Willo gets hugs from his kids and mum before he turns to me.

“Congratulations,” I mouth. The noise on the ground is deafening, and I know he won’t hear my voice.

Willo embraces me in a hug and surprises me by twirling me around in the air. “Put me down,” I scream. “You’ll hurt your back.”

“I won’t,” he whispers in my ear. “But if I did, it would be worth it. Thank you.”

“What for?” I ask.

“For encouraging me to tackle love once more.” He swipes a lock of hair from my face.

“Are we doing this here, are we?” I ask, the sounds of the crowd blocked out. It feels as though it’s just the two of us in our own little bubble.

“I am.” Willo smirks. “I love you, Paige Larson.”

“That’s good.” I smile back at him. “Because I love you, William Lovemore.”

“No one calls me William except my mother sometimes and the stupid Brownlow Medal announcer.” He laughs.

“It suits you,” I tell him.

“You suit me,” he says before he draws me again into his arms and presses his lips to mine.

“Gross.” Jackson tries to push us apart.

“What?” asks Luna.

“They’re kissing again.” Jackson pretends to stick a finger down his throat.

“Well, they’re in love, der.” Luna places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at her brother.

We are indeed. It’s wonderful, scary, and amazing, all rolled into one. If someone had said to me twelve months ago that I’d be living on a farm, madly in love with a farmer and his kids, I’d have told them they were dreaming. Now, I know it was me who was dreaming, and I’m glad I realised that this is what I should have yearned for all along.