Epilogue
Twelve months later
Ebony did find the romance she’d always been looking for.
On her next visit to Hobart, we caught up with friends at the pub, including Lilly, who had moved to Hobart from the wild west, and Cleo, who had become a true friend.
Jimmy from the wilderness course had also become part of our friendship group and after meeting Ebony, realised he’d taken interest in completely the wrong sister.
He lost his mind over Ebony and she lost her mind over him.
They got married within six months at a cider brewery in the Huon Valley and moved into a hippy cottage in Mountain River. I saw them at least once a week.
Mum was still dry and I didn’t call to interrogate – I trusted her with something in my core.
And when I did speak to her, I talked openly about my life and she spoke openly about hers.
I felt a closeness to her that I’d never dared myself to feel because I was finally accepting of whatever might happen.
She’d given up her job in medical clerking and was doing administrative work at the Community Drug and Alcohol Service, while completing a diploma in support work in the hope that she might one day help others overcome their demons the same way she kept fighting to.
Ebony and I always asked if she’d move to Tasmania with us, and she said maybe, but she was owning her life, independent and thriving, so for now we just observed from a distance.
Proud and hopeful, and impossibly grateful.
Unbelievably, I passed my exam, and when I got my fellowship paper at the awards ceremony, Abel, Ebony and Mum screamed so fucking loudly it made me laugh and cry at the same time.
Because I’d tried, goddamn, how hard I’d tried, and finally life wasn’t something I needed to work at so much.
But I was proud of the girl who had done that hard work and had learnt to be brave enough to open herself to the world.
Abel continued to help me push my limits.
He took me bushwalking and even camping, and I discovered I loved it.
I loved the nature and the intricate beauty of the alpine landscapes, and the shocking power and mystery of the coastline.
I loved the clean, cold air filling my lungs and the sense of timelessness in the wilderness.
Strong and persistent. Calming and grounding me.
On the anniversary of my return to Tasmania, he took me up Frenchman’s Cap: a four-day walk through epic mountains, forests of fairytale beauty and sophistication, icy lakes of inky water.
Heights still made me dizzy, but we made it to the top, and on the midweek day that it was, we were the only ones there.
The sight from the summit was breathtaking.
I was giddy from exertion and wonder, Abel’s hand in mine as we looked out at the wild space that spread before us.
‘It’s a beautiful world, isn’t it?’ he whispered.
‘It is,’ I said. And I meant it in a way I’d never thought I could.
‘Want to go there with me, Mary?’
I felt his gaze on me, and I turned my head to meet his eyes.
‘I’d go with you anywhere, Abel. If you’ll be with me.’
He smiled, a savouring sort of smile. ‘I’m with you. I will always be with you.’
And right then, I saw it all.
I saw happiness.
I saw our wedding.
I saw our children.
I saw our kitchen disputes and our humbled apologies.
I saw our aging.
I saw our efforts and our foibles.
I saw our fragility.
I saw our love.
And I dived into it – I did.
With every part of me.