Page 112 of Loving Wild

Because of all the pick-up and drop-offs we do to keep Ava’s school and social life as normal as possible since her move here, and the fact we’ve both been so busy with work, our commitment to attend counselling has gone out the window.

Our bubble of love hasn’t been perfect, there’s been conflict, but it’s been minimal and over trivial things—mostly money, which now I’m earning, Gabe still refuses to let me spend.

The only real negatives of the past two months are that Jarrod Summers pled guilty at his preliminary hearing. After agreeing to enter a recovery programme, he was issued with a large fine—which Mummy and Daddy likely paid—and a noncustodial sentence. Jay, who initially first pled not guilty, changed that to a guilty plea and received a similar kind of sentence. Because of the time he spent on remand, he’s now free. Thankfully, I’ve heard nothing from him.

I made a conscious choice not to be angry about the leniency of sentences these two men received. I wanted to put both events behind me and put my energy into moving forward, not wasting it on giving those two a second thought.

I’d come to these conclusions after listening to a couple of audiobooks Jess recommended. I was more of a romantic fiction girl, occasionally a good horror or psychological thriller, but never self-help, and I’d never listened to audiobooks before, but they were now my new favourite thing.

I’d listen in the car after I’d drop Ava off, and pretty much any other time I was alone. So, I suppose I had kind of received counselling, just in a different format. And what I got from that was to let go of the things I can’t change. It’s wasted energy. Energy I don’t have to spare right now, and what I do have spare, I’ve chosen to use it to move forward.

With all of that happening, I’m now looking forward to the upcoming long weekend we’ll be spending with all of Gabe’s family up at their holiday home on Lake Mulwala, on the Victorian and New South Wales border.

The Melbourne Cup is a horse race run during the spring racing carnival. It’s held every year on the first Tuesday in November and referred to as ‘the race that stops the nation’, which it technically does because a public holiday is held in celebration.

With a lot of schools choosing to add an insert day on the Monday, a four-day weekend was created, of which everyone in the state took advantage of, with camp and holiday parks booked out state-wide as Victorians emerge from their winter hibernation.

Ava is bringing Sophie along for the weekend, and we’ll be celebrating her thirteenth birthday on Sunday. She didn’t want a party with her friends or any fuss made, so it will just be family and Sophie.

Rather than pick the girls up from school Friday, return home and set off early Saturday morning, Gabe and I both take Friday off, collect the girls at one, and set off on the four-hour road trip that afternoon.

* * *

Our road tripis noisy but uneventful, and after a couple of toilet and coffee stops, we pull up atWild Retreat, just after six in the evening.

“Wow,” is all I can say as Gabe parks the truck on the large expanse of grass in front of the imposing house. “It’s huge.”

That earns me a wink and a mumbled, “You know it, babe,” from Gabe.

I respond with an eye roll.

The girls are out of the truck and heading into the house the instant Gabe hits the handbrake. The only other car here is Zac’s and the front door to the house is open.

I slide out and walk to the front of the truck, where Gabe meets me. Throwing his arm over my shoulders, he pulls me into his side, kisses my temple, and holds me there.

“My dad bought this place when Coop and Zac were little, before I was born,” he finally says. I turn my head to look up at him and find he’s staring up at the house.

“They came down here and stayed in a caravan at the holiday park up the street. There was just an old shack on the land then, but it backs right onto the water, so he saw the potential.”

I slide my hand around his waist but remain silent.

“Dad pulled down the shack and spent every weekend, long weekend, and any holiday he took from work, and built this place mostly by himself. He bought a caravan and parked it on the land, and we’d all stay in that while we were here. Took him five years,” he finishes quietly and finally looks down at me.

“One of my earliest memories is of being pushed in a wheelbarrow by mum. I was sitting on a pile of soil and she dumped me out with it.” I watch his throat move as he swallows and looks back at the house. “I can still hear her laughing now. She was bent double as I sat up with dirt in my hair and up my nose.”

“Beautiful memories,” I say as I wrap my free arm around his belly.

His eyes come back to meet mine. “Time to make new ones.”

I smile up at him. “Let’s do that.”

Hand in hand, we head towards the front door only to be met by Sam swinging a bunch of keys around her finger.

“Hey, love birds. Gabe, you can go help Zac and the boys put the tent up, Ren, you’re coming with me for supplies,” she comes in with pecks to our cheeks and quick cuddles as she speaks.

Gabe gives me a quick lip brush and turns to head inside.

“Any requests?” I ask him.