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JACKSON

“Are you excited for the plane, Olive?” Anya asks the giggling girl in my arms.

Olive babbles incoherently, wiggling impatiently until I let her fall into her favorite aunt’s arms.

“She slept most of the way here, except when she kept trying to press the call help button,” Rosie says, collapsing on the patio chair beside me.

The sun is setting and it’s nearly Olive’s bedtime, but we can’t keep her away when she knows there’s people around.

She’s loved being in Wellington with the family, and she loved it even more when Anya and Danny arrived laden with birthday gifts and toys.

Rosie kicks her feet up onto my lap and I cup her ankle with my palm. Her pale skin has tanned in the Southern sun and she’s taken to wearing the purple jandals I bought her everywhere she goes.

It’s warm and balmy, the coolest breeze of autumn in the air, but we’ve both loved it here.

We flew over back in December so my girls could experience their first warm Christmas, and we used the opportunity to explore my home country.

It’s been years since I spent more than a few weeks here, so spending the last two months driving, sailing and hiking both islands has been as much for my benefit as Rosie’s. I told her she’d get to go traveling.

“You can sit with us on the way home, Olive Oil,” Anya tells my daughter. “I need to stock up on all my Olive cuddles.”

I chuckle. “It’s only been two months. And you’ve had a photo every day.”

“It’s not the same,” Anya insists, swaying Olive in her arms.

“She’s loved the sun,” Rosie says.

“It is miserable in London,” Danny says, “Dark and wet and cold.”

“I’m sorry your birthday’s in the winter,” Anya says to Olive seriously. “Auntie and Uncle should have gotten married in September, so you would be a summer baby.”

Rosie groans as Danny and I laugh, causing Olive to peel into giggles too.

“She is a summer baby,” Rosie insists. “In the Southern Hemisphere.”

“What’s so funny out here?” Mum says as she pulls open the sliding door behind Rosie.

Mum spent the first few months of Olive’s life living in a flat down the road from our house.

She suggested it casually, not wanting to intrude on our settling in as parents, but it only took a few weeks before we were both relieved every time she came to help.

She never stayed longer than necessary, only coming to take Olive for a walk so we could rest, or dropping off some home-cooked meals.

When I had to go on a press tour for six weeks, she came back and stayed in the guest room so Rosie wouldn’t be alone.

For a girl who’s been alone in her own family, she’s loved having her new one around.

“I’ve already had my new neighbor, complaining about all my new plants.” Mum says perching on the arm of the chair by Rosie’s head.

“Oh, is that all he’s talking to you about?” Rosie asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Mum waves her off with a laugh, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” Anya says excitedly.

“Nik, the silver fox from across the street.” Rosie giggles. “He miraculously keeps finding an excuse to come and knock on the door.”

Anya gasps as my mother blushes . “Get it, Gloria.”

“On that note,” I say as I stand up dislodging Rosie’s feet as everyone laughs. “It’s bedtime.”

“I’ll take her,” Mum says, laughter still rolling off her tongue as she pulls Olive out of Anya’s arms. Olive loves her grandmother, resting her head on her chest and grabbing the neck of her t-shirt in her fist. Mum leans her head on Olive’s. “I’m going to miss you so much, bub.”

Danny and Anya say their good night’s as the sun officially sets on the horizon, crickets chirping in the distance. I settle in next to Rosie as her eyes drift closed. I’m going to miss it here for sure, but I know that as long as I’m with my girls, I’m home.

“I can’t believe she’s a year old.” Rosie says, digging her foot into my side.

I catch her foot and pull her down the seat until she’s lying underneath me. “Remember when she could fit in the palm of my hand?”

“You used to carry her like a rugby ball,” Rosie giggles .

“She loved it.”

I fall in between her thighs and press a kiss to her lips.

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?”

“The happiest,” I tell her, shifting so the box in my pocket doesn’t press into her thigh.

“Are you happy?” I ask her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

She sighs beneath me. “So happy.”

I carried the ring around with me the whole trip.

I thought I’d maybe do it on Christmas morning, but the day was so hectic that I lost track of time.

Then I carried it in my pocket ready for the final day of our hike up Taranaki Maunga, the same route my dad and I used to take, but Olive had a meltdown so we had to cut the hike short.

Then I’d planned on doing it when we visited Tony and Kaia in their new house near Paraparamu beach, but I couldn’t get her on our own the whole two days we were there.

But now, on the evening of our daughter’s first birthday, in the garden where I used to play with my dad and eat lunch with my sisters, it feels right.

I shift underneath her, pulling her until she’s sitting back up. “I was happy,” she grumbles.

I cup her chin with a laugh. “Rosie Taylor,” I tell her, gently tugging at her lip, “I need to ask you something.”

“I’m really happy Jackson, honest,” she giggles.

I roll my eyes, gently wetting my lip. I’m not an anxious guy, but I’m shaking with nerves as I slide off the seat and onto one knee.

“Rosie,” I say quietly as she gasps. “I have loved you since the day I first met you. I loved you when you ran away from me on that balcony, and I loved you when you burst into tears when I showed up at your door. I loved you when you made me watch your dancing show and dragged me to look at old buildings?— ”

“That was you ,” she chokes out.

“I love our beautiful daughter so much that I can’t believe I ever lived a life without her. Without both of you. I’m so glad that your birth control failed.”

Rosie laughs wetly, eyes shining behind her glasses. Her hair falls in tendrils across her shoulders, as she sits up straighter, her long legs falling to one side.

“Being with you has made me the happiest man in the world.” I break off as a sob blocks my throat and I sniff, attempting to compose myself. “Marry me, Rosie.” I pull the ring box out of my pocket, clicking it open.

Before she even looks at it she falls into my arms, nearly knocking me back with the force. “Yes,” she cries as she presses her lips to mine, our tears mingling.

“Really?”

“Yes!” she laughs. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for months.”

“How did you know?” I chuckle as she peppers kisses across my cheeks.

“Unless your dick turned into a cube, it was pretty obviously in your pocket.” She giggles as I gasp scandalously. “Plus, your mum looks at my hand first thing every morning in case you’ve asked me overnight.”

“Right, never mind I take the whole thing back.” I attempt to rise to my feet. “Forget it ever happened.”

She kicks out her leg as I crowd her back against the chair, tilting her hips until we’re tangled together. I grab her left hand and slide the ring on her finger.

“Never.”