16th January 1980

Kerry’s dream was falling apart. Years, he’s spent training for the olympics. Useless years he’s wasted.

Because now, he’s sat on a shuttle bus back to the ranch because America has refused to go to Moscow. Stupid Cold War has ruined his career.

He’s trudging up the dirt track, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, squinting in the early morning sun when he spots the scrawled banner above the house. ‘WELCOME HOME KERRY!’

Oh, how he’s missed his family.

First to greet him is his father, a firm handshake. Then his ma, with a big kiss to the cheek and a gentle squeeze. And then his brothers, already back to roughing him about as though not a single minute has passed.

There’s a minute of tackling and shoving before he hears his mother whispering quietly to someone on the porch, small encouragements until he hears the shuffling of feet down the steps.

He looks up amidst his brothers’ attacks and spots you, stood there at the bottom of the steps, fiddling with your hands as though debating how to approach. You’ve always been a shy thing. But, god, is he excited to see you.

“Oh, hey… hey little darlin’… I didn’t know you were here, sweet girl…”