"I can see her!" Mischa shrieked so loudly, Rueben and I both jumped, and his hand squeezed my butt as it rested inside the back pocket of my faded cargos. The three of us were at the main intersection of Ulverstone, the daily market buzzing around us as we waited for our guest.

"I don't think that's her, honey," I said, reaching out to give Mish a quick hug. The person making their way up the hill was clearly a six-foot man, but Mischa was so desperate, she was projecting onto just about anything. On the way into town, she was convinced that a particularly svelte tree was the person we were looking out for. "How about you go and trade some eggs for something fun?"

I handed her a basket of our untraded chook bounty and her eyes lit up. "Oo! Can I get a necklace? Jaime from the Lott's farm has been making them with pretty stones!"

"Sure," said Rueben, smiling.

"Yay!" She scampered away between the stalls, Bella hot on her heels. The little dog had been her shadow for so long, it would almost be weird to see one without the other.

Rueben rubbed the small of my back. "What are you thinking?"

"About how Bella's going to react. How it might break Mish's heart a bit."

He laughed softly. "That dog has more than enough love to go around. What's really worrying you?"

I gave it some thought as the market swirled around us. People from the area gathered most days on the hill at the top of town to trade wares and services, and we were practically fixtures. Between Nichola's hives, the eggs the kids gathered, the fresh meat and milk my brother carefully cultivated and the vegetables my parents tended, we had plenty to barter with.

I wasn't worried; I was wary. Our lives had been calm-ish for almost a full year. Today might change everything again.

Before I could formulate my thoughts, someone called out to Rueben. "Hey, Doc?" Bertie from the yacht club wandered over, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Can you fit me in for a session this week?"

"Of course," said Rueben. "Tuesday? I'll come to you."

"Great. We can take the Great Escape out after, if you like?"

"Done."

The two men shook hands, and my heart was glad that Rueben had rediscovered his calling. Being the only psychologist for about 200 kilometres, he was in high demand for his services. As the world had settled into a new 'normal' post-apocalypse, people had begun to realise that they needed help to process everything that had been lost. Rueben saw clients almost every day, even the ones who couldn't afford to give anything in return. "They need help more than we need the trade," he explained.

The market traffic was beginning to ebb; people mostly arrived early to get their first pick of the offerings, then drifted away as the sun drew higher. Being spring, the locals were coming earlier, enjoying the warmth of the sun after months of brutal Tasmanian winter.

There were a million things I missed about my previous life. Taking toilet paper for granted, instead of a luxury resigned to the past, replaced by rags. Throwing out the wilted leaves from a lettuce or a brown banana without a second thought. The ability to book a flight to anywhere around the world. Twitter and TV.

But those first-world conveniences were offset by the idyllic social setting we'd landed in. We were friends with our neighbours, invested in our township. We were lucky; the people who travelled over the sea to Tassie spoke of how the other states were faring. Melbourne had thrived, but Sydney had fallen; it was apparently nothing more than a Mad-Max-esque wasteland these days. Adelaide had been abandoned with everyone deserting the city for the surrounding farmlands, and Queensland had quickly formed violent, segregated alliances along racial lines. As for Perth, it was too far away for anyone to even have heard rumours about. All in all, our clan had landed in the best possible situation, and I gave silent thanks for our strong, resource-rich community every day.

I smiled and nodded at our friends and neighbours as people began to disperse from the market. Bethany, one of the teachers from the little school, walked over. "Hey, guys! How is Misha doing? She's been so excited for today."

Rueben and I laughed. "That's an understatement," said Rueben, pointing to where Mish was turning cartwheels on the grass overlooking the ocean.

"Oh, Karla? Is it okay if I put an order in for a jug?" Bethany's voice dropped. "I don't have anything big enough for milk at the moment – I always run out after two days, and if I could carry more, it would make life easier."

"Of course! I'll bring one down on Monday to school, if that works?" I was already planning the piece in my head; a streamlined jug with a slender spout and a fat belly, perfect for carting around moo juice.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." I meant it; every parent contributed to supporting the teachers at the school, either with food or supplies. Their role had been made infinitely harder by the lack of resources, but our teachers were adaptive and ingenious, and their hard work showed in the progress of the kids. There was a focus on practical skills as well as lessons learnt from history, and most importantly, an emphasis on empathy and equity.

Mischa was thriving. I smiled as I watched her play with Bella on the grass and wondered at her resilience after enduring so much heartache. Rueben kissed my head. "You're staring again."

"I know. I just love her so much."

"You could barely look at her when we met."

"A lot has changed since then," I reflected. "I've changed."

Not as much as I'd hoped for, I could admit to myself. I was never going to be the skinny girl I'd pictured in my head when the world had fallen apart. Sure, there were no more drive-through take-aways, no more sugar-laden ice cream tubs or all-you-can-eat buffets, but I wasn't able to follow a calorie-controlled low-carb meal plan either. Most of our meals contained potatoes and high-fat dairy products – and bread, my eternal weakness. The local baker constantly needed new crockery and baking containers, and I was happy to trade loaves for the fruits of my pottery talent.

But I felt healthier, more toned. I ran around with Mischa, cycled to town most days, tended to the vegetable gardens and chased cows and tossed hay. I was strong and I was fierce; I'd survived, and that meant more to me than the size on my pants. Sure, I had curves, but the only person who saw me naked wasn't complaining, so I'd mostly made my peace with the bulge around my belly.

Of course, other things had changed too, I noted as I leaned my head on Rueben's shoulder. "Maybe it won't be today," I said softly. "You know how the seas can be – she might have been held up."

"Okay. We'll head back. If she makes it here, someone will point her in the right direction." He called out. "Hey, Mish?"

"What?" she said, bolting upright from where she'd been rolling around with Bella. "Is she here?"

I opened my mouth to let her down gently, then I caught sight of a familiar figure climbing up the hill. "I think... I think she actually might be!"

The girl who approached us was still as slender and beautiful as ever – and somehow, despite the fact she'd just crossed a sea and there was no such thing as fashion anymore, was still artfully stylish. She wore a chunky knitted sweater that hung off one shoulder, exposing tanned, smooth skin, over a maxi-skirt made of patchwork denim pieces that danced around her booted ankles. Her long hair fluttered in the breeze, a living creature that waved to us long before its owner noticed us.

Mischa gasped. "Nevvie," she whispered, then began to shout. "Nevvie! Nev! Nev, Nev, Nev!"

The girl's head snapped up, and a smile drew her heart-shaped lips wide. "Oh my god! Mischa! It's youse! Youse are here!"

She began to run, Mischa ran, Rueben and I ran, Bella ran, and the five of us crashed together like a wave, tears and arms and exclamations everywhere. "Nev, you're here!"

"Of course I'm here! I said I would come, didn't I? Oh, Bella! Look at you!"

"I took good care of her, Nevvie!"

"I knew you would, gorgeous girl! You're so big! What happened?"

"I'm growing!"

"Rueben, farm life suits you - you look friggen hot, man! Your beard is super beardy!"

"Uh... thank you? It's good to see you too, Neveah."

"Can we go?" She smoothed her hands over her hair, and I could see nerves in her eyes.

I answered. "We'll go now. Rueben and Mischa are using the bike trailers, so they can take your bag. You and I can ride together – I thought we might take the scenic route." I wanted to show off the majestic coastline rather than the direct route which was boring bush, but mostly I wanted the chance to talk to Nev alone before we reached Green Haven.

We hefted Nev's wheelie suitcase onto the back of Rueben's bike, while Mischa talked a mile a minute at Nev. "We'll take your stuff back and put it in your room – you get a room in the big house, it's really pretty – and then we're having lunch, and it's lamb which we almost never have, and Nanna Kathy and Poppy Shane will be there, and Tyler and Tristan and Immy and Isla and-"

"Mish, slow down," said Rueben. He kissed me and said, "Love you, see you at home."

Mischa hugged Nev, then me. "Bye, Nev! Bye, Mum!"

As they peddled off, Nev clutched at my hand. "Holy shiz! Did she call you mum?"

I nodded, eyes heavy with happy tears. "It's new, but I like it."

We mounted up and followed the curve of the coast road. Nev, flipping her flawless hair like a shampoo commercial, said, "Tell me everything."

"You know everything from my letters."

"It's not the same! Besides, I think some of them didn't make it. Tell me from the start."

As we rode, I filled her in. About how the first night we'd made it to the farm and my brother had told me about Dean. We'd let the others in at the gate and brought them to the main house where a massive fire burned as warmly as the welcome. My mother hugged me for about an hour, my dad was immediately smitten with Mischa, my brother and Rueben instantly connected, and my brother's kids doted on Bella, who was a novelty compared to the farm's working dogs. Bailey was quiet initially, but allowed themselves to be drawn into conversation by my mum and brother before curling up beside the fire, content if not relaxed. Nichola poured me wine and a bath, which was so lovely of her, I promptly burst into tears again, and I eventually fell into bed in the main house, more at peace than I could remember in a long time.

It took a few days to get settled. Rueben and Mischa took up residence in a cabin near the main house, with a loft upstairs as the main bedroom and a smaller room downstairs for Mischa – and Bella, of course. I moved into the room next to my parents in the main house, and Chookie was delighted to discover the massive chicken enclosure that housed about 200 of her new best friends.

Bailey chose the most remote cabin on the property, a tiny wooden shack perched on the hill between a wall of trees and the sea. I tried to convince them to relocate closer, but they said, "I need this."

"You need people," I retorted.

"I know, and I do. But I need to do some healing."

A few days later, I was finally unpacking the dregs and detritus at the bottom of my suitcase, when someone knocked on my bedroom door. "Hello?"

Rueben stood there, wild flowers in his hand and a hopeful smile on his face. "Hi. I, uh... I wanted to pretend for a moment that maybe we'd just met. Like you don't know all about me, and I don't know all about you."

"Okay," I said, rising from the floor and grinning.

"So, I was wondering if you'd like to go out some time?"

I tilted my head, considering it. I thought about all the angst we'd put each other through, every piece of emotional baggage we both carted around, all the reasons that we couldn't possibly work and the fallout if we failed.

Then I released all those worries into the sky like bright yellow balloons. "I'd love to."

For our first date, he organised a picnic at the beach, just the two of us while my dad hung out with Mischa. It was like an actual date; small talk and gentle exploration. We kissed and he walked me home.

I organised the next date, then we alternated, planning our way through the weeks, with nothing more than words and sweet kisses passing between us.

After a month, I asked if Mischa could sleep over with my brother's kids. At sunset, I walked Rueben out to the surprise I'd been working on for a week: a large metal tank filled with heated water, a makeshift hot tub my brother had helped me create by setting up coals below the base of the tank.

Rueben and I immersed ourselves in the silent, steaming water. I'd borrowed a swim suit from my sister-in-law, but it wasn't long before I'd slid the straps off and straddled him boldly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Does this feel good?"

"God, yes."

"Do you want more?"

"I want everything."

We made love in the tank, on the blanket beside the tank, on the couch in his cabin, on the bed in his loft. We came up for air in the morning, and just like we would have in the real world, I cleared out before Mischa came home.

After three months, Rueben asked me to have dinner with just him and Mischa in their cabin. Despite the fact I saw them both for hours every day, I was still nervous as I knocked on their door.

Mish answered. I said, "Hello, you must be Mischa."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so weird."

Over dinner, Rueben said, "Mish, I have to tell you something. Karla and I are dating each other."

"Duh," she responded, stabbing a piece of fish with her fork. "You guys are sooo obvious."

"And how do you feel about that?"

She wiggled in her chair like an excited puppy. "It's about time!"

After another three months, I moved into the cabin with them officially; by then I was spending most nights there anyway. We'd become a family, and when Mischa started calling me mum, it was the most natural and amazing thing in the world.

"You know I'm not trying to replace your birth mother," I told her on one of our walks to school.

"I know." She scrunched up her delicate face, and I could catch the image of the supermodel who'd given her life waiting to bloom one day in the striking woman she'd grow into. "But you read me stories and make me meals and play with me. She's my mother, but you're my mum. I can have you both."

Telling Nev all of this, I wept. Nev cried so hard, she almost rode off the cliffs and into the sea. "Oh my god. Youse are gonna have such beautiful babies! Oh, wait – sorry, that was a stupid thing to say."

"Well, not that stupid..."

"Oh my god, are youse pregnant?"

"No, no!" I laughed. "But we've talked about what we'll do when we run out of condoms. There's no more pill, and the rhythm method is about as trustworthy as Bella left alone with a steak, so we need to be ready for an 'accident.'"

"And are you ready?"

I thought of my little boy, the one I'd never get to know, thought about the sister he would have loved in Mischa, and realised the truth: he would have wanted his mummy to be happy and go on to love other babies too. "I am."

"Squee! I bags godmother. Youse will be a gorge fam."

"Speaking of family – how did yours go, saying goodbye?"

"They weren't happy, but I was ready." Her face darkened. "After Nonna passed, things were different. They all have their own lives, and I swear, it felt like sometimes the thing my sisters liked best about me was the free babysitting."

"I know they love you."

"I love them too," she said begrudgingly. "I know they'll be okay – Liana is practically running the city now. It was time for me to fly, you know?"

The road sloped sharply up as we drew closer to the driveway. I needed to ask the awkward questions before we arrived. "Nev... Have you heard back from Bailey at all?"

"No." Her voice was small. "I realised the second youse were gone that I'd done it all wrong. I should have talked to them, but I was so scared. Love is scary! Do you know that?"

"I do," I said, smiling.

"I wrote them sooo many letters. I apologised, like, a quadrillion times. I wrote them a letter most days, then sent them off in big packs."

I was the one who generally received the letter bundles; whenever someone crossed the Tasman, we'd trade for the delivery of the letters to the post office at the port on the mainland, and Nev used the same system to communicate to us.

She eyed me sideways. "Did they ever say if they read my letters?"

I paused, giving myself time to word my answer carefully. Bailey's healing had been a long road, and I wasn't sure how much Nev was ready to hear.

While Rueben and I were in our early dating period, Bailey had reverted to being a colleague instead of my closest friend; someone I saw during working hours around the farm or at the market. They pulled their weight with their duties and they'd join us at the big house for a meal once a week, but otherwise they kept to themselves.

They sourced a typewriter from one of the antique shops near Launceston, and when they weren't working on the farm, they were writing: either on their small veranda overlooking the water when the weather was good, and writing inside by lantern when it wasn't. I visited them every day, making us tea and nattering away, trying to keep them connected with the world.

For a few months, Bailey hibernated, wallowing in solitude. Then Rueben offered to have formal psychology sessions with Bailey to work through some of their family issues (no mention of Nev), and to my surprise, they agreed. Neither Bailey nor Rueben ever told me what was discussed, but Bailey started to make progress. They appeared at family dinners more often, joined a poetry group in town, and even dated the lovely Bethany for a few weeks before they broke things off amicably.

But whenever I'd deliver a bundle of letters, I'd try to speak to Bailey about Nev, and every time Bailey would say, "Karla, no. I just can't." I had no idea if they'd even read the letters, or if they'd met a fiery end before the envelopes were even slit.

As Nev and I wheeled through the gates of Green Haven, I said, "I told you when I wrote to you, I'm not sure what Bailey is thinking. And like I said, there's a good chance they might not even want to see you."

"I know," said Nev, deep sadness in her voice. "But I have to try. I owe them an apology to their face."

"You may have come all this way for nothing, Nev."

She sighed. "Look, I could lie and say that I came here to stretch my wings and have an adventure, and yeah, I guess that's true. But I love Bailey. I can't walk away without knowing for sure that I buggered everything up, or if there's still a chance."

I rode over to Bailey's cabin with her. The afternoon sun was strong, and it fell brightly on the figure that stood on the veranda, staring out to sea. "Oh my god," breathed Nev. "Bailey."