summer holidays. She planned to rest and relax, and that included a couple of fun runs. Flynn and Clemmie were joining her this year in a family five-kay run, and Jon would be at the finish line cheering them in.

‘It all looks great, Tara,’ Gerry said. He and Ian raised their cans of Sobah to her in a salute. It turned out that a sober Gerry was almost impossible to beat at any game that involved numbers.

‘Tara!’ Monique waved as she walked past with her family. ‘I just finished a novel that will be perfect for book group. I’ll message you the details.’

‘Sounds great. Have a lovely Christmas.’

Book group didn’t look quite the same as it had two years earlier. When Fatima and Jade joined, Kelly and Rhianna left. Although they and Tara managed polite exchanges at school activities, there was a tacit agreement between the three of them that they no longer shared enough in common to repair a friendship sunk by massive differences in values, beliefs and experience.

The carols didn’t start until dusk, but there was plenty of diverse entertainment—from a kids’ magic show to African drumming—to keep the crowd entertained.

‘I loved my white Christmases in the States,’ Shannon said, ‘but I missed this crazy combination.’

‘Jon and I missed you both,’ Tara said. ‘We’re glad you’re back.’

‘We are too,’ Chris said. ‘Jon and I reckon it’s time to give away coaching the under-eighteens and take over the under-tens. We might just keep up with them.’

‘Merry Christmas.’ Zac handed out stubby holders printed with the gym’s logo. ‘Here’s something to help you with your new year’s resolutions.’

He’d arrived with his girlfriend, Katie, the PE teacher at the high school. They’d been together six months, which was the longest Zac had dated anyone in all the time Tara had known him. She liked Katie—they’d run a half marathon together earlier in the year. Tara still hadn’t given up on her dream to run a full marathon and had pencilled it in for the year Clemmie turned eleven.

‘Zac!’ Jon said. ‘Come and meet Rick. He’s just joined the Young Parkinson’s support group and he’s interested in kickboxing.’

Being kicked off the cricket team had been a defining moment for Jon. He’d battled the disappointment and depression as he did each time he faced another loss. Tara had given him a month to come out of the blue funk and then she’d driven him to the gym.

‘All I’m asking is you try one kickboxing session with Zac. If you hate it, fine. We’ll look for something else.’

It had been a turning point. Since that auspicious afternoon there’d been times she’d accused him of being obsessed with kickboxing.

‘Just keeping up with you, T,’ he’d say with a grin.

She had no complaints that he left work for an hour most days for a session. His strength, stamina and balance had improved and more importantly so had his mood. He was happier and that spun into their lives in ways most people took for granted. Their sex life would never be the spontaneous thing it had once been, but that didn’t mean what they had now was a poor substitute. It was just different. Sometimes Tara thought she should get Embrace Change tattooed on her arm.

Eight months after Jon’s diagnosis, Jill, the woman from the Parkinson’s support group they’d vowed never to return to, had called. ‘Another young couple have contacted us. I wondered if you’d like to meet up?’

For a year, Jeremy and Jon were Sun Country’s Young Parkinson’s support group. Now there was Leanne and Rick.

As challenging as the disease was, it felt good to share what they’d learned. More important was knowing they weren’t alone—others understood the unpredictable road they travelled every day.

‘Fruit and chicken? I’m sure one or the other would have sufficed,’ Bob grumbled good-naturedly, setting down a platter groaning with strawberries and watermelon on the Hoopers’ trestle table.

Helen gave him a gentle elbow in the ribs. ‘Sharing food is sharing love.’

‘And my marinated chicken is now a tradition, old man,’ Jade teased.

‘Enough of the old, thanks very much.’

‘You walked right into that one, Uncle Bob.’ Lachlan steadied an excited Milo, who’d just seen Clemmie Hooper and was leaning sideways off his shoulders desperate to reach her.

‘How did the exams go, Jade?’ Tara asked.

The relief they were over bubbled lightness in Jade’s veins. ‘I passed, so all good. It’s hard to believe I’m halfway through my BA.’

‘She more than passed.’ Helen squeezed Jade’s shoulder. ‘She got three high distinctions and a distinction.’

‘That’s fantastic.’ Tara raised her hand in a high-five. ‘Well done, you.’

Jade’s cheeks heated. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the compliments and congratulations—she’d got used to them now. It was the support that humbled her.

‘Thanks, but I only got those marks because these three looked after Milo and fed me so I could study.’

‘Pfft. It’s what family does,’ Bob said, lifting Milo off Lachlan’s shoulders. ‘Besides, this little bloke gives me bragging rights with the other grandparents at the garden. Some days it’s a photo fight.’

‘I’m telling everyone I got an HD in English literature,’ Lachie teased. ‘Although I still don’t get the appeal of Jane Austen.’

‘Well, I’m just glad it’s over until February and I can enjoy the holidays and the garden,’ Jade said. ‘Milo’s totally into Christmas this year and it’s fun cooking and doing craft with him.’

‘Are you doing anything special over the holidays?’ Jon asked.

Lachlan smiled down at Jade. ‘We’re going to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.’

‘And we’re staying the night at the Grand Hyatt in Melbourne,’ Jade said. ‘I’m a bit worried I’ll find it too grand and overwhelming.’

‘A good hotel makes you feel at home,’ Tara said. ‘Relax and enjoy it all. You’ve earned it.’

Jade slid her hand into Lachlan’s, still slightly awed that this man was in her life. They’d learned a lot about each other in the last two years. How to be a couple and parents. How to respectfully disagree and work on compromise. At

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