Page 82 of The Longshot

For two years straight, I was the baby of the family, being doted on hand over foot until I lost all sense of peace in my life when the first of my many younger sisters was born—Daisy.

Another two years later, the saga continued with Dara.

And at eight years old, just when I thought that we were free of crying babies in the house, my parents came home from the hospital with not one, but two more—Delilah and Destiny.

At this point, I was surrounded by so much estrogen I could barely handle it. It got to the point that it didn’t matter that I was the oldest. The girls would all unify as one and bully me into their activities.

Do you know how bad I look in a dress?

The bullying got so bad I swore to my dad that if he and Mum ever had another, it better be a little brother, and if it wasn't, I was downright ready to move out.

I think that threat might’ve worked very well because after eleven years of waiting, the universe finally brought me George, or what we call him... Georgie.

Once Georgie came along, I was convinced that our family was complete—six kids, two parents, and a full household—and for a while, that was the case. Only a few years back, Mum and Dad shocked us all when they broke the news that baby number seven was on the way by gifting us each a onesie on Christmas morning…

“Father Christmas was working overtime this year, eh, Dad?” I playfully nudged him that night, prompting him to roll his eyes and grumble beneath his breath.

Darcy, my baby sister, was born late summer that following year, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. She proved to us all that she was the final and missing piece to our Wilkinson family puzzle.

So there you have it. That’s us. We’re a mad lot, that’s for sure—but we’re a family, and my family? I wouldn’t replace it for the world.

“So, Chelsie, how many siblings do you have?” Dad passes the salad down the table, handing it over to me as I place a hearty portion onto my plate, being slapped by Daisy as a result.

“Just one,” Chelsie recites, dapping along the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “An older sister, Ruby. She’s the best, so although I didn’t grow up in a big family like you guys, Ruby always kept me good company.”

“That’s lovely. There’s nothing quite like having a sister who is also your best friend. Isn’t that right, girls?” Mum peers down the table, hopeful that my sisters will agree. Their diverting eyes say it all…

“Don’t worry, Ruby and I fight too sometimes, I get it,” Chelsie laughs as she goes in for another bite. “It’s a part of what makes having a sister that much more fun.”

Mum nods in agreement as Dad is next to speak up. “So, Gary. How did you and Chelsie meet exactly?” He stares between the two of us curiously.

“At the bakery,” I’m quick to answer. “You know, the one up on Sandringham.” I gesture north with my fork.

“You mean Ruby's bakery?” Dara jumps in.

“That’s the one!” Chelsie smiles proudly. “Creative name, I know,” she jokes.

“Ruby's bakery? What? No way!” Georgie sits up in his seat with an abundance of enthusiasm. “My best friend Rowan loves that place. He talks about it all the time!”

Chelsie’s eyes light up with a sense of familiarity. “Hey, I know Rowan.”

Georgie beams. “You do?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “He and his mum come into the bakery all the time. Don’t tell anyone.” She leans in to whisper. “But they’re my favorite customers.”

“Not me?” I tease under my breath.

Her foot brushes past mine beneath the table. “You’re a close second.”

I’ll take what I can get.

“That reminds me of that saying.” Georgie takes no notice as he scratches his temple in thought. “What is it? ‘It’s a big world?—’”

“Small, Georgie,” I correct him with a laugh. “It’s a small world, lad. Not big.” I pinch his cheek before taking a sip of my drink.

“You know, Georgie.” Chelsie leans in again, voice louder this time. “Rowan is obsessed with our chocolate biscuits. Have you ever had one before?”

Georgie shakes his head with the biggest puppy dog pout known to man—the kid could convince anyone with that frown.

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