November 30th 1975
Dear Diary,
You will not believe where I am tonight? In Ojai, California. I’m at Steve’s parents’ house sitting on the livingroom sofa, waiting for him and his father to return from the hospital.
It all started late last night. A couple of seconds after I had turned off the lights, the phone rang. It was Steve. He sounded terrified, his voice quavered when he told me that he’d just received a call from his father telling him that his mom had suffered a stroke and that it sounded serious. He asked me with what I perceived as a pleading inflection if I wouldn’t mind accompanying him to Ojai for he didn’t want to be alone on this trip. That he needed me with him. He needed me! I just melted at those words. I jumped out of bed, got dressed, threw a few things in a suitcase and put fresh water and food into Peter’s bowls for tomorrow.
It was close to 1 :00AM when Steve knocked on the door. Although he tried to put up a brave front, I sensed that he was bursting at the seams. He was acting very peculiar and when I reached for his hand it was trembling. The taxi drove us to the airport where a small jet had been chartered for us. We flew to Ojai in record time.
During the flight, Steve kept staring blankly in front of him, his head resting against the back of the seat and his hand tightly wrapped around mine. I ached to find the right words to alleviate his torment but I thought it might make it worse. All over sudden, he tightened his grip on my hand and leaned his head on my shoulder. He looked like a lost soul. I risked a hand on his head and when he didn’t object to my touching him, I ran my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes.
I think I know now why I’m so attracted to this man. Like me, he’s very close to his mother and the news of her possible death was shattering him. I had never seen Steve so despondent. He scared me.
Dear Diary,
Now that we’re both headed back to Washington, I’m able to finish what happened next.
Steve and his father came back in late afternoon with encouraging news. After a thorough examination, it was pronounced that Steve’s mother had suffered only a mild heart attack. The sparkle in my fair-haired sweetheart’s eyes was back. He clenched me in such a warm embrace that it felt as though I was about to melt into him. How I often wished I was taller to allow my head to reach his shoulders, but after a couple of hugs I came to realize that snuggling up to him with my face buried in his chest wasn’t so bad. Very comfortable in fact.
We ordered some takeouts since Steve’s father wanted to remain close by the phone in case his wife took a turn for the worse. We mostly talked about Steve’s and mine childhood. We both discovered interesting titbits about each other, for instance: I learned that Steve was quite the little buckaroo in his teens, winning several prizes at local rodeos. Well, he already looped his rope around my heart, that’s for sure.
Later, we dropped by the hospital on our way to the airport. Steve’s mother was awake and talking and he introduced me to her. Now I know where Steve got his charm. No doubt she must have instilled in her son those impeccable manners. It’s strange but she reminded me of mom in so many ways. I didn’t feel the least bit intimidated by the woman, quite the opposite. Could it be a sign of some sort?
Just minutes before we were to leave for the airport, I excused myself to go freshen up. When I came back, I heard Steve mention my name. I instantly hid behind the door and kind of…eavesdropped. Shame on me! But it was worth it, believe me. I learned something that put all of my qualms to rest. Steve confessed to his parents that he felt I was the one, the true love of his life. Oh God! My heart skipped a beat when I heard it. He went on saying that he wanted to take it one step at the time to see where the romance would lead us but he was positive it was toward marriage.
Dear diary, now we’re back on the Washington-bound plane and I’m shaking all over. My teeth are shattering and I can’t slow my heartbeat. I’m taking silent deep breaths and drinking lots of water to moisten my dry, raspy throat but nothing works. Steve is asleep in the seat next to mine with a serene expression on his face. I’m relieved that Helen is on the road to recovery and so happy for him, but not as much as I am for me. Oh God, oh God, oh God! When my mind travels back to that moment in the hospital, I shudder something fierce. Are we truly headed for the altar? We’ve only been dating a few days but I know in my heart that he’s the one. I know, I know I said the same for Gene but it’s different. Gene I knew a few weeks, Steve I know since April. Okay maybe I’m putting the cart before the horse and as Steve told his parents: we’ll take it one step at the time.
Alright Peggy, take another deep breath and end your rambling. Leave some blank pages for other days. I’m already overlapping. Get some shuteyes Peg. You need it!
December 23rd 1975
I just have a few minutes before Steve comes by to pick me up. We’re on our way to my hometown of New England to spend Christmas at my parents’ house. As I explained before, Steve and I arranged it so that we both celebrate Christmas at my folks and then we’re flying to Ojai to ring in the New Year with his parents. I’m so excited! My mind is whirling with millions of thoughts. My suitcases are packed and ready, but I can’t help get the impression that I’m forgetting something important. Isn’t it always the case when you go on holiday? Gosh what is it? Of course! You, my dear diary. I was forgetting all about you, but don’t worry I’ll put you in my purse. I can’t leave you here for I have a strong feeling I’m going to have plenty to write about in the next few days. Brought some extra blank sheets of paper just in case I run out of space.
I finally bought Steve’s present Saturday. I was anxious to find the perfect gift and as always I waited until the last minute to go shopping for one. I spend all day Saturday at the shopping mall, browsing, and finally it jumped at me near closing time. It’s useful and I know he’ll love it for it’s quite original. It’s a three-dimentional solar system with all the planets revolving around a digital alarm clock sun. I thought it was appropriate, him being an astronaut. Well, it’s the thought that counts, right? I’m sure I’ll pick up on his expression when he opens it. I have a keen sense of distinction when it comes to Steve’s countenances. I’m now a past master in the art of reading him like a book, so if he doesn’t like the gift, his eyes will tell me, not that I really want to know. Oh God I’m nervous. Okay I’ll end this rambling right here. Steve should be here shortly. I’ve asked my next-door neighbour Carol to keep an eye on Peter while I’m away. She’s a dear.
December 24th 1975
It’s 2 :15AM and I can’t sleep. I’m a bundle of nerves at the thought of being back at the family house where I grew up. Since moving to Washington two years ago, I’ve never been back, not even for a visit. Mom and dad came to my apartment to celebrate Christmas last year; needless to say it wasn’t as nearly as special as being in New England with everyone, brother and sister included. Big brother Alan and big sister Joan are expected to arrive with their spouses and kids late this afternoon. I can’t wait for them to meet Steve. They will be quite astounded to learn that their little sister has caught the eye of famous American astronaut Steve Austin. A gigantic improvement if you compare him to my past conquests. Steve appeared calm and composed when I introduced him to my parents and I could tell mom and dad took to him instantly. He’s a charmer to the core, bless his heart. He can’t help win everyone over. Hum…I wonder if I should go knock on his bedroom door to see if he needs anything? Nah! He’s probably fast asleep. If he needs anything he knows where to find me.
Dear Diary,
I dozed off around 3 :30AM and was awaken by a friendly tug on my shoulder at 11 :30AM. I opened my eyes to a warm smile and a gentle kiss on my lips. Yes it was given by Steve, who else? I quickly turned my head away, mind you not because I didn’t want to be kissed, quite the opposite, I only wanted to spare him my foul morning breath. Steve chuckled and began stroking my hair in a loving motion. He asked if I were in the mood for Christmas Eve brunch. He’d apparently been helping mom with the cooking since early in the morning and wanted me to sample his cuisine. I teased him good-naturedly about taking a risk and he counteracted by assuring me that if I got sick, he’d be right there to wait on me and nurse me back to health. Hum…cherish the thought.
God, I love him so much and I sure hope he knows that. Mom always told me that true love knows no spoken words. It’s a binding feeling two people share in their hearts and souls. You feel its warmth in a kiss, a touch or a stare and right now, I’m overwhlemed by all three for it’s all so new to me. I can honestly say that I’ve never felt love like this before. I don’t think I was ever that deeply in love with a man, not even with Gene. Dear Diary I don’t know if you can understand exactly what I’m experiencing at the moment, the many changes that are occurring in me? It’s frightening and yet, so enjoyable. I find myself thinking about Steve day and night.
After brunch, I took Steve on a tour of the neighborhood. It was rather chilly outside. Of course I’m used to this harsh weather but it never crossed my mind that Steve wasn’t. As we walked alongside one another, ours arms around each other’s waists, I could feel him shuddering. The poor man was freezing to death and didn’t complain, probably because he saw how enraptured I was by the beauty of the winter landscape with all the glittering ornaments. I was back in time, woolgathering about my own childhood. How selfish of me! Steve had just recovered from a nasty flu and his immune system was still depleted. I was certainly not about to jeopardize his fragile health for mere tinsels. I suggested getting a cup of hot chocolate to warm us up.
Guess whom we ran into at the restaurant? Evelyn Coles. My old highschool classmate, the bitch! When I noticed her sitting at a table in the corner, I tried not to make eye contact. Naturally she was sitting alone, who in his right mind could stand being in her company? I ignored her the best I could and whispered to Steve to do the same. But too late, she’d seen us. I could see her waving to us in the corner of my eye, then she walked over to us. Damn! Dear Diary you might think I didn’t want that lecherous tramp to sink her claws into my Steve, not that I was afraid he couldn’t defend himself. When she asked to be introduced to this dashing heartthrob I gave her the first name that popped into my mind, Greg something. In all good conscience I couldn’t submit Steve to her excruciating yackety-yack, which was bound to happen if she discovered his true identity. We would still be at the restaurant. Ouf!
When we came back to the house, Alan and Joan and their families had arrived. Just as I suspected it, they were really surprised to find out I was dating Steve Austin. After dinner, the men assailed Steve with questions about his work while Joan, Katherine and I helped mom with the dishes. I often peeked into the living room to see if Steve was handling the onslaugh of questions. He seemed to be keeping afloat. He was holding two-year-old Justine in his arms. The little girl was squalling her lungs out before he picked her up. She mellowed out as soon as he cradled her in his arms and lulled her to sleep. My heart just pounded at this heart-warming picture. He’s a natural with children.
Now it’s almost midnight and I’m already up sitting in front of the sparkling fire near the Christmas tree with all the presents I’ve been ogling since I got up an hour ago. I’m waiting for the gang to come downstairs to partake of the traditional Christmas Eve supper. Talk to you tomorrow!
December 25th 1975
Gosh I just don’t know where to start. So my thoughts are swimming in my head. I’m breaking out in gooseflesh whenever I think back on the present Steve gave me. Well…presents.
When the clock rang midnight, we all hugged and kissed. Then we girls helped mom set up the table while the men sat in the living room to talk. I was so anxious to give Steve his present, but we weren’t allow to touch any of the gifts until morning when the children would be up. That was the tradition at our house ever since we were kids. That’s what Christmas is all about? Parents witnessing their children’s glowing eyes and wide-open mouths as they ecstatically rip open their presents. That’s a sight that warms the cockles of your heart. It always takes me back to my own childhood memories when I see my nephews and nieces reaching underneath the tree for their presents. Steve said it was the same at his house. Despite the absence of grandchildren in the household, he and his folks always waited ‘til Christmas morning to open their gifts. He confessed to being very anxious to see the expression on the kids’ faces tomorrow. It was so cute to see him all worked up about Christmas. A true kid at heart. I didn’t know it at the time but when I mentioned I had three nephews and two nieces, he went out and bought gifts for each.
Mom had slaved over a hot stove all week to make sure every dish would be to everyone’s liking. Each year there are usually a few leftovers but not this time. I could tell she was pleased that Steve enjoyed her cooking. I’m not sure but I believe she was a bit intimidated by him at first, but not anymore. Steve has a knack for making people around him feel comfortable. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s already won mom and dad over.
We all went up to catch some sleep at around 2 :00AM. We suspected the kids would be up bright and early to unwrap their gifts and would hate to have to wait for the grownups to rouse. I recalled one Christmas morning when I was six. Mom and dad had invited friends over for Christmas Eve supper and had celebrated until the wee hours of the morning. At around 9 :00, I just couldn’t wait any longer, so I went up to their room and shook them awake. Parents just can’t make children wait to open their presents. Tired or not, they have to be up early and drink lots of coffee to keep awake.
The little boisterous rascals banged on our doors at 6 :30AM. Gosh! Couldn’t they have slept an extra hour? I was so sleepy that I omitted to push the snooze button before I dozed off again. Fifteen minutes later, Steve kissed me awake. When I felt his lips against mine I didn’t bother to open my eyes. I just flung my arms around his neck and made our kiss linger. My mind was so dull that it didn’t even occur to me that I could have foul breath. He didn’t seem to complain. He gently pulled me back and warned me about the kids’ rabid mood downstairs. They were all anxiously waiting for their aunt to wake up so they could open up their presents. They assigned Steve to the mission and if he failed, they were going to charge into the room. I begged for five more minutes but Steve was unwavering.
The second we both came into view, the kids bounced under the tree to grab their presents. Mom offered me a cup of coffee to keep alert. I sat on the sofa and bundled up in a cozy warm blanket. Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. We huddled together to keep warm. We waited for the kids to finish unwrapping all of their gifts before we proceeded with ours. When Steve opened the present I got him, I studied his instant reaction. When he gazed into my eyes, there was no mistaking that look. He was genuinely happy. I was so relieved.
He handed me my gift. My jaw dropped to the floor when I opened the black velvet box that contained one of the most glittering tennis diamond bracelets I had ever seen. He clasped it around my wrist and kissed me. I was so overwhelmed, but that’s not the best part. He handed me an envelope which I was sure contained a card with a loving poem of some sort. Instead it had two tickets for a month’s cruise to the Carribean on board one of the most impressive ocean liners afloat, the Island Princess. We were to set sail in two weeks after we get back from our holidays. He explained that he’d finally managed to convince Oscar to allow him some time off, the long overdue vacation he never had the chance to take. He arranged for the OSI to find a substitude for me for the duration of the cruise, assuring me of a permanent position as Oscar’s personal secretary upon our return to Washington. I just sat, shellshock, unable to utter a single word. My eyes were riveted on the tickets I held in my hands. I suspected Steve had no idea how to interpret my reaction for he joked about possibly asking Oscar to join him on the cruise should I not be interested. That sure whipped me out of my trance. I flung my arms around him and kissed him hard on the lips. Gosh! I can’t believe it! We’re going on a cruise!!!!! How romantic! Somebody pinch me!
December 29th 1975
Dear Diary,
I’m supposed to be resting before dinner but since the excitement of being at Steve’s parents’ house is keeping me wide awake, I thought I’d write down what happened since this morning.
This Christmas will number among my most memorable. I count my blessings each day since meeting Steve Austin eight months ago. So much has happened in my life, events of particular outstanding, but none as cherished as the day Steve professed his love for me. I remember that moment like it was yesterday.
We left for Ojai early in the morning. Steve’s father, Jim, met us at the airport. It was good to see him again under more pleasant circumstances. As we drove to the family farm, I was slightly troubled by the view dislaying before me. It was all green, not a patch of snow anywhere, which to me was unconceivable in the midst of the holiday season. I’m used to white Christmases. Even last year in Washington, we have a few drops of snow. Mind you not enough to mantle the grounds, but it was there to remind us of winter wonderlands. In California, the climate is warmer. No need for scarfes and coats. Somehow it didn’t feel right but I decided I wasn’t going to let a silly detail such as snow spoil my New Year’s celebration. It was my first with Steve and that’s all that mattered.
Helen was in splendid form. Looking at her you’d never guess she suffered a heart attack a month ago. It still amazes me how much she reminds me of mom. She wouldn’t be such a bad mother-in-law. Gosh I can’t believe what I just said. I’m moving too fast. Put on the brakes, Peggy. Remember what Steve said: let’s take it one step at the time. If we rush things we’re liable to break our necks and risk jeopardizing a beautiful romance, possibly a frienship. I would die if that happened.
Oh, God! a grim thought just crossed my mind. We may be very much in love now but as our relationship progresses, we’re bound to unravel some deep dark secrets about each other. Peculiar idiosynchrasies that may be considered cute for some but disgustingly appalling for others. I have some that I haven’t shared with Steve and won’t until I know him a little better. I can’t reveal them, owing to the fact that they’re way too personal, even for you Dear Diary. How will he handle them? Should I tell? I assume I’ll eventually have to if we plan to tie the knot. Listen to me! I should be concentrating on hanging as many clumps of mistletoe around the house instead of nurturing an unfounded angst. Does Steve need them as a reason to kiss me? I don’t think so but every little bit helps! (wink).
Ah! I believe Steve and his father are back. They stepped out of the house an hour ago to fetch Helen’s some ingredients at the local grocery store. No doubt they took the opportunity to engage in a little father-and-son chat. Wonder what they talked about? Hummmm, do I really need to guess? I wished I were a small bee. I could have buzzed around and eavesdropped on their conversation. Shame on me! Okay enough babbling, I’ll close here.
January 1st 1976
Dear Diary
It’s 4 :00 in the morning and everyone’s asleep, except Yours Truly. I’m a bundle of nerves. I can’t cast the cruise out of my mind. We’re leaving on the 10th and returning on February 8th. Two days ago when I went for a walk with Helen I dragged her inside a travel agency to get information on the ocean liner. I was given a colored brochure outlining all the major attractions onboard that I must have pored over at least two dozen times. I expect we’ll have time to see and do most of it given the duration of the cruise. We have layovers in many enchanting Carribean islands where I intend to indulge my number one whim: shopping for souvenirs. Not too much, mind you. I now how most men hate shopping and I wouldn’t want to bore Steve and rob precious time from other rip-roaring activites.
Oopsy! I’ve slightly veered off the subject. I’ll talk about the cruise in two weeks. Right now I want to limn last night’s intimate moment that Steve and I shared when the parents were off to bed for a nap before New Year’s Eve supper, leaving us alone in the living room. We sat on the sofa, huddled together in front of the warm sparkling fire and let our minds wander. Don’t tell Steve but I kind of let come in one ear and go out the other bits of the conversation when I suddenly felt lifted on cloud nine. It’s a freakish sensation but I actually hovered on a totally different wavelength. His voice grew muffled as I felt myself gradually dragged away from the reality of the moment. I was having sort of an out-of-body experience. Feeling his strong arm around my shoulder pulling me close to his body…it was Heaven (sigh). I closed my eyes and listened to my heartbeat in rhythm with Steve’s. My wandering soul was sucked back into its shell the moment I felt his moist lips press against mine. I broke out in gooseflesh and surrendered to his tender kiss. By the time he began nimbling down my neck, I had lost the will to resist to temptation. I was prepared to go all the way hadn’t Steve’s parents interrupted the romantic interlude. Now that I look back on it, their impeccable timing saved me from making a fool of myself in the heat of the passion. I can’t help wondering, though, if they hadn’t been in the house…would we? No I believe reason would have taken over and prevented us from committing a huge mistake.
The second the clock struck midnight, Steve clenched me into a tight embrace and gave me one of the most passionate kisses I’ve ever experienced in my life. Funny but I didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed by Steve’s display of emotions in front of his parents. He obviously wasn’t so why would I? The message was loud and clear. Any doubts I might have harboured about his love for me were quickly dissipated.
Dear Diary, what’s in store for Steve and me in 1976? Stick around.
January 10th 1976
Dear Diary,
Well we’re on the ship, sailing toward our first port of call Curacao. We’ll be at sea all night and all day tomorrow, arriving early Monday morning.
You should see this floating palace. It’s humongous! I never imagined it could be so huge. Steve rented two adjoining suites on the Promenade Deck. We each have a large bedroom, a sitting area, bathroom equipped with a shower and bath, refrigerator and closet space for the passengers on this entire deck! Oh, I forget, our own private balcony. Just think…four weeks of paradise in the company of the most charming man I’ve ever known. What more can a girl ask for? I just hope I don’t wreck our fun by getting seasick. I’m not so far. You can hardly feel the ship moving. It’s smooth sailing all the way for both the ocean liner and Yours Truly.
We were invited to dine at the Captain’s table this evening. Steve was naturally the guest of honor, and when the Captain introduced him to the other dinner guests I sensed that he was somewhat embarrassed of having been singled out.
Later as we went for a stroll on the deck, arm in arm, I broached the subject of his uneasiness during dinner. It might not have been obvious to the others but I’ve known Steve a considerable amount of time to recognize a diffident smile. We stopped and leaned against the railing. He exhaled a long deep breath, evidence that my question had hit a major nerve. He told me that it had been his wish to remain anonymous on this cruise to avoid passengers accosting him with questions about his work and thus taking time away from me. Right then I felt the urge to kiss this sweet, incurable romantic. As we locked lips in a tender embrace - and boy was it good – this pompous middle-aged couple waltzed up to us, all in a flutter about meeting famous American astronaut Steve Austin. I couldn’t believe their impertinence. Here we were kissing and they bluntly interrupted our romantic interlude to satisfy their curiosity about Steve’s first walk on the moon. I was a bit miffed and so was he. He knew this would happen. No matter how hard he tried to curtail the conversation and pry himself away, they kept harping on the subject. Steve was a gentleman, humoring them the best he knew how, flashing an occasional strained smile, the poor fellow. He bore and grinned his predicament just as I did for nearly fifteen minutes before they finally went on their way. We hurried back to Steve’s suite and on the balcony under a starry night; we picked up where we left off. How romantic!
January 27th 1976
Dear Diary,
This morning, Steve and I went ashore on the island of St-Thomas. After a swim, we went to a market where I just had to purchase some souvenirs. Steve wandered away to check out a jewelry stand. Oh my! Is he thinking of…? I watched him in the corner of my eye and lost myself in conjectures as to his interest in this particular stand, or was he just casually browsing with no specific design in mind?
Again, he was accosted by a man whom I thought was another harmless enthusiast, but when I noted a squint in Steve’s eye, the one he usually gets when something’s amiss, I became worried. I couldn’t make out their discussion on account of all the cacophony of sounds around me, but from Steve’s stone-faced expression, his flaring nostrils and his twitching lips, I gathered this man was no friend. He even appeared to be threatening him. His face didn’t register as one I’ve seen around the office. I had to satisfy my curiosity. I waited for the man to leave before I slowly walked up to Steve who remained stock-still, visibly disturbed. I asked him about the man he was conversing with. He turned to me, fashioned his famous lopsided smile, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and answered ‘nobody important’.
Arg! Dear Diary his answer raised my hackles. I knew he was lying through his teeth but why? Was he a foe who had suddenly come out of the woodwork to exact revenge? There I go again, imagining the worse!
I’m lying in my bed right now with that man’s face seared on my mind. No, I am NOT overreacting. I’m sure there’s cause to worry. If the man had been a casual acquaintance Steve would have told me his name for starters.
Should I let this go? It’s driving me insane, but I might irk Steve if I keep pushing the issue. Better let him make the first move. I’m sure he’ll confide in me when he’s ready. Please Sweetheart…open up to me. I ache to see you so troubled.
February 6th 1976
Oh God I beg of you, let him be alright. I can’t stop my hand from shaking. I can’t write. Sorry. I just can’t. Oh Steve, please don’t die!
Dear Diary,
It’s almost 8 :00PM and Steve’s condition is stable. The cardiac arrhythmias have subsided and his respiration rate has return to a satisfactory level. He survived the first twenty hours, a crucial step forward in his recovery. Although the ship’s doctor assured me that Steve would be fine, my mind’s still plagued with doubts. Only when I’ll see his heavenly blue eyes stare at me will I cast those worries aside.
It happened late last night. I was sleeping soundly in my cabin when I was startled by muffled thumps. I turned on the light and listened closely. Nothing. I thought I dreamt it. Then again, two thumps on the wall and suddenly a loud thud as thought someone had collapsed to the floor. I flung the covers aside and rushed to the adjoining door. When I opened it my heart leapt to my throat at the sight of Steve lying on the floor, gasping for air and clutching his left side. I knelt beside him, panicked as to what to do. What was happening to him? His lips were turning blue and his breathing was growing labored. He breathed out something about having a heart attack. I rushed to the phone to call the doctor and when I returned to Steve’s side, he’d stopped breathing.
Oh, God! I tried not to lose countenance but there he was, dead on the floor. It all happened so fast. Without a moment’s hesitation, I started CPR, hoping, praying that the doctor would hurry. I felt so helpless. The more cardiac massages I applied the less it seemed to help. His face was livid and his body was sluggish. I strived to maintain my bearing and continued the massages for a good five minutes before the doctor showed up. I quickly filled him in on Steve’s symptoms before he went into cardiac arrest. Then a grim thought suddenly breezed through my mind. I know for a fact that if the brain is denied oxygen for over five minutes, there’s bound to be irreversible damages and the limit had been exceeded. Steve had not been breathing for nearly ten minutes! The doctor assured me that the damages are significantly reduced if CPR is applied seconds following the cardiac arrest. Apparently, the brain continues to receive a sufficent blood flow and oxygen supply to remain functioning. That explanation eased my mind some but not nearly enough for me to stop panting and sweating. The doctor filled a syringe of adrenalin that he injected into Steve’s chest to jump-start his heart. Thank God it worked. I must have heaved the longest and loudest sigh ever. Steve’s pulse was weak and his respiration extremely shallow but at least he was alive.
The doctor notified his assistant to bring the gurney. When the doctor asked me if I were his wife, I instinctively answered yes. Perhaps subconsciously I was afraid that if I hadn’t been he would deny me permission to remain by his side. My mind was in such a whirl I couldn’t think straight
After the doctor examined Steve, he walked up to me with a mournful face that made me sick to my stomach. He looked so ominous. I was sure he was the bearer of awful news. I learned that Steve was suffering from a digitalis overdose, a medication taken by patients with heart ailments. He riddled me with questions about Steve’s medical background, whether or not he had any heart diseases and if he were taking prescribed medication. I answered no to all, knowing Steve would have told me if he was seriously ill. But then again, would he? I couldn’t allow myself to comtemplate the possibility of his hiding something like this from me. He just couldn’t.
I was shocked and appalled when the doctor suggested a suicide attempt. If anything Steve was happy, not suicidal. Then the second blow came when he told me to be prepared for the worse. They were having trouble stabilizing his condition and warned me that he might not make it through the night.
I just sank into a chair and went completely catatonic. I cudgelled my mind for answers to the tragedy but drew blanks after blanks. Steve could not have tried to kill himself. One thing’s for sure, if he had, why did he knock on my door for help? I asked to be with him, but was denied access to the room until Steve’s condition was stabilized.
I’ve been sitting here since early this morning, holding Steve’s hand and talking to him, trying to will him out of his coma. I haven’t slept a wink. The coffee is keeping me awake and jittery. The doctor has offered me to lie down in the next bed but I’m afraid that if I release his hand even for one minute he’ll slip away. I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it. You weren’t there, Dear Diary, you can’t understand. I don’t want to loose him. Oh please God, let him be alright. I beg of you, bring him back to me.
February 7th 1976
It’s 9 :15AM and Steve is still unconscious, though he’s hanging on. Rudy has been notified and will be meeting us when the ship docks tomorrow. I’ll need to go pack the suitcases. I’m not looking forward to the task of rummaging through Steve’s personal belongings. I’ve always respected one’s privacy, regardless of my level of intimacy with that particular someone. I guess I dread the possibility of uncovering a deep dark secret, one I might not be prepared to handle at the moment. But what could it be? A bottle of pills? The doctor already searched through Steve’s medicine cabinet and found nothing, aside from the usual hygiene products you normally bring on a trip. What am I so afraid of?
Dear Diary,
I guess I must have dozed off. I awoke fifteen minutes ago in the bed next to Steve’s. I am so exhausted. All this fretting is draining my energy, but I refuse to leave Steve’s bedside for a second. I wish to be here when he opens his eyes.
I’m sitting here, glimpsing between Steve and the blank pages upon which I’m scribbling down my innermost feelings. Right now I’m seriously questionning my fortitude at handling tragic situations. Steve is a secret agent, jeopardizing his life on a weekly basis in the service of the government. If we were to eventually marry, will I be able to cope with the pressure? The constant worrying? Dreading the worse from his perilous missions? Is my love for him strong enough to provide me with the strength to overcome my fears and rise above my torments? I just don’t know. I’m aware that life as Mrs. Steve Austin won’t be all fun and games and I expect we’ll hit our shares of ups and downs, but it won’t be white picket fences either.
My heart is beating with terror, both for Steve and myself. I love that man so very much I would die for him. I can’t imagine my life without him. Whatever ordeal life throws at us, we’ll find a way to weather through the storm together.
February 8th 1976
The cruise has come to an end and we’re both back in Washington. Early this morning, Mr. Goldman and Rudy met the ship when it docked. An ambulance was standing by to rush Steve to a small airfield where a plane had been chartered to fly us all back to Washington. Steve’s condition was stationary but he remained in a coma. Inasmuch as I trusted the ship’s doctor’s prognostic of Steve’s condition, I felt better with Rudy’s for he was Steve’s personal physician and forthright when it came to handing out to cold hard facts, not that I was truly prepared to hear them, but I preferred he harsh truth than false hopes.
Steve’s heart had been dramatically weakened as a result of the digitalis overdose. I enquired about any heart ailment that I should be aware of. Rudy assured me that Steve was in perfect health, and that he had even given him a thorough examination before leaving on his trip and the results were negative, however human or bionic. He couldn’t find an accurate explanation for the digitalis incident. The ship’s doctor confirmed that his supply was intact, thus ruling out the possibility that Steve may have stolen a few pills from the infirmary. What would have been his motive? I couldn’t subscribe to the suicide theory. Why would have knocked on my door for help? What is more baffling in the absence of a bottle of pills anywhere in Steve’s stateroom. Something’s definitely amiss.
I summoned my raw memories of the day prior to the incident, reviewing every image, retracing every step until it stung me. The mysterious man in St-Thomas, the same one Steve dismissed as ‘no one important’ and yet, it occurred to me that he had been threatening him. Could he have something to do with the incident? But how? He had to be in the room with Steve in order to ram the pills down his throat, and Steve made no mention of it when he was on the floor clutching his chest. He would have told me right away, if not to warn me to watch my back.
I’m no authority in the field of forensic but I hazarded a conjecture: What if the man had laced one of Steve’s oral hygiene products, like toothpaste, with the digitalis? Then I remembered the night he fell ill, he mentioned that he had a stomachache and no doubt he was going to take some antiacid. Could the powdered digitalis have been mixed with it? My theory was worth investigating. Quickly, we all shuffled through Steve’s suitcases that had been left in Rudy’s office at the hospital and we retrieved the suspected items for analysis.
It’s been three hours and still no results. I’m going nuts! The constant beeping of the heart monitor is driving me insane but conversely, it provides a welcome comfort knowing that his heart is registering a normal beat. I’m still sick wih dread about possible brain damage but I’m refraining myself from voicing my concern to Rudy, afraid he might confirm my fears.
Rudy has courteously acquiesced to my request to remain with Steve tonight. He’s even had a nurse turn down the next bed so that I could sleep in the same room. Steve is lucky to have such devoted friends as Mr. Goldman and Rudy, Mr. Goldman, especially, behaves more like a concerned father with Steve than a boss. He’s a proud man who’s a past master at masking his emotions, but he doesn’t fool me. I’ve learned how to impregnate that bulwark and read past the facade. He’s a tough boss, a bit misorganized but a decent man.
February 9th 1976
Dear Diary,
This is the happiest day of my life. Just think, less than 24 hours ago I was in Hell and now I’m in Heaven! I don’t remember having felt more euphoric except for the time Steve professed his love for me. Should I tell you now? No, I’ll wait till the end. I want to relate every moment leading up to…no I must wait.
Remind me to never doubt the power of prayer. Steve is back! He awoke in the early afternoon. You can’t begin to measure the level of emotions that are coursing through every single cell of my body at the moment. It’s surreal. I must have conveyed a thousand thanks to the Divine Being for sparing my friend’s life. When Steve opened his betwitching baby blues and fashioned a weak smile at me, I dissolved into tears. They spouted out of my eyes in an unrestrained torrent after having been penned up for the past four days. I tried my best to disguise them behind an euphoric smile, but in vain. When I held his hand, he managed a weak squeeze but it was strong enough to dispel any lingering fear of possible brain damage. He recognized me and even whispered my name and asked his sweetums for a kiss. My heart was pounding out of my chest as I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his before kissing him gently. A few teardrops dribbled down on his cheek and I dabbed them dry with my finger, without averting my gaze from his glassy, though lucid eyes.
I left my seat for a mere thirty seconds to notify Rudy. After giving Steve a general once-over and assessing the extend of his memory loss, Rudy questioned him about the digitalis. The results were conclusive: the drug had been mixed with his antiacid but fortunately for Steve, he hadn’t injested a lethal dose. Steve denied any speculation that he put the drug in and was appalled by the allegation of a suicide attempt. Then how did the drug get into his antiacid? They were all baffled until I reminded them of the obscure character in St-Thomas. With three pairs of inquisitivive eyes staring at him expectantly, Steve was backed into a corner and had no other alternative than to dish out the truth. His name was David Harraway a former sergeant in the Air Force who was court-martialled a few years back. He’d sworn to exact vengence on each and everyone who convicted him upon his release from state prison and recognized Steve as one of the jurors. Steve had accidently blurted out that he was on a cruise but doubted that the man could have had access to his stateroom in the few hours that we remained ashore. Mr. Goldman ordered to have the antiacid bottle analysed in hopes that Harraway didn’t use gloves to handle it, which was unlikely.
I’m somewhat relieved that Mr. Goldman is having this maniac investigated. I fear that once word of Steve’s recovery gets out, that psycho will reiterate with a deadlier weapon to finish the job. First thing tomorrow morning at the office, I will access the main frame to collect data on this sargeant Harraway. Although Mr. Goldman has given me the rest of the week off given the circumstances, I assured him that I’d be at the office first thing in the morning, no buts, ifs or maybes about it. My mind was made up. I gauged their reactions to my atypical outburst. They all stared wild-eyed at me, stunned by my voracious determination, a side of me I seldom exhibit. Both Mr. Goldman and Steve wilted under my glare, warning them not to question my decision and leaving them with no other choice but to nod their approval. My scolding stare melted into a smile of gratitude, first to my boss and then to my sweetkins. I squeezed his hand and excused myself to go to the bathroom to freshen up. God, I must have looked like a racoon from all this crying!
As I left Steve’s room, the heel of my left shoe came loose. I sat in the chair next to the ajar door and picked out Mr.Goldman’s distant voice telling Steve what a special lady I was. I smiled at this nice compliment as I distractedly fumbled with my shoe and pricked up my ear in hopes to get privy on a few more praises that the boss would never sing in my presence. I nearly fainted when I heard him query Steve of his intention to ask my hand in marriage. I dropped my heel onto the floor and glued my ear closer to the door. My heart was throbbing in anticipation of Steve’s answer. When it came, my heart just quailed and it blighted all hopes of my ever becoming Mrs. Steve Austin. Steve confided that he refused to condemn me to an existence of perpetual mental anguish being married to an undercover agent who engaged in perilous missions. He also dreaded the possibility of old foes aiming at me to seek revenge against him. I was boiling mad, convinced that he was thinking about his self-peace of mind rather than my own. Those were selfish motives. How dared he unilaterally decided what was best for me!!!! I burst back into the room, making no apologies for my eavesdropping and chewed him out. Mr. Goldman and Rudy quietly slipped out of the room as I gave Steve a severe tongue-lashing. He pleaded his case with some powerful arguments that unfortunately for him fell on deaf ears.
Steve’s frail condition urged me to put an end to this childish quibble. It was not my intention to upset him to the point where it might cause him physical pain. I held his hand and bent closer to his face. I gazed into his pained eyes and confessed in a whisper that I’ve loved him since the moment he walked into the office on that April morning, and that now, I can’t ever imagine my life without him. He gave me his lopsided smile and brushed his hand gently against my cheek before he asked, « Will you marry me? »
Oh God, I stopped breathing altogether. I was in shock. No word would squeeze through my knot-constricted throat. My mouth slowly formed a silent ‘O’ but no sound followed. Tears flooded my eyes as I tried to speak. Finally I gasped in a breath and exhaled a bright ‘yes’. We then sealed the event with a passionate kiss.
I can’t believe it, someone pinch me, I’m dreaming! We’re getting married!!!! I’m still a bit spaced out and my mind is swimming with hundreds of different thoughts and images that are playing before my eyes. I look at Steve sleeping soundly, and my heart just wells up with ecstasy at the thought of becoming his wife. Oh, God! There’s a million things to do, but first I have to call my mom. Excuse me while I go make a phone call.
February 27th 1976
When I got up this morning I never imagined that today Steve would take me shopping for an engagement ring.
When I arrived at my desk, Steve was already in Mr. Goldman’s office to discuss his next mission, something about a WWII German submarine that may be carrying a toxic gas. My adorable boss had left a stack of folders for me to file. I was rating and raving. Here we are Friday, day when I usually manage to slip away around 3 :30PM. On top of the letters I had to type up and the business appointments I needed to schedule, here came this avalanche. I felt smothered. With this mountain of work, I expected the shovelling would sink me well into late afternoon but surprisingly, the filing was over within the hour for the folders were already in alphabetical order, which eased my workload a great deal, but who could have sorted them out? Certainly not Mr. Goldman.
As I filed away the very last folder, Steve came out of the office. When he slowly walked up to me with his fetching smile and his heavenly blue eyes my heart started pounding out of my chest and I became weak to the knees. He always has that powerful effect on me. God bless him! He cupped my head in both his hands and brushed his lips ever so lightly against mine before he kissed me. When I felt his hands sliding down to my lower back and his arms wrapping themselves around my waist to pull me closer I knew our deep kiss was going to linger. My skin crawled with goose pimples and the tingling sensation radiated down to my toes. I folded my arms around his neck and delicately ran my fingers through his hair. I was lost in the moment, cast adrift in a sea of pleasure that I never experienced before with a man. God help me I came close to surrendering to temptation.
When our lips parted, he gave me a small peck on the nose and on the forehead before he took a hold of my hand, grabbed my purse and ushered me out of the recpetion area. A sly smile hung on his lips as he steered me down the corridor to the exit door. I explained about the ton of work awaiting me but it was like talking to brick. What the devil was he up to? As we stepped into car he told me that Mr. Goldman had granted him permission to borrow me for a few hours for a personal matter of a delicate nature. I was relieved that the boss knew about our little escapade in the middle of a working day or he would have wrung my neck.
Steve drove me to an expensive jewelry store where he gently took my left hand and rubbed his thumb against my middle finger. His gaze met mine as he bent forward to kiss me and whispered in my ear that it was about time I had an engagement ring. The shock was staggering. My heart was throbbing so fast that I was afraid it would burst apart. Steve led me to the counter to introduce me to the manager who had been expecting our visit. He invited us to join him in the back room where he kept the exquisite collection for his special clients. My body broke into shivers and my eyes glistened with tears when my eyes dwelled on the opulent display. I clung to Steve’s arm for support. I never expected an engagement ring, much less being offered the opportunity to choose it. I was in utter awe before this myriad of glittering diamonds and precious gems. Dear Diary, this little misfit girl from New Engand has sure come a long ways.
Within a single year, I went from shy Peggy Callahan, part-time secretary to the proud future Mrs. Steve Austin, Oscar Goldman’s private administrative assistant. Right not I’m applying pen to paper sporadically as I often stop to glance at Steve’s token of his genuine love for me. I chose a ring that holds a special meaning for me. It’s a gold band set with four tiny white diamonds, flanked by two larger rubys, a symbol of our future family. When we broached the subject of children two nights ago, I nearly fell off the couch when Steve confided his wish to have six kids when I wanted to settle for two. So we reached a compromise: God willing we’ll try for four. Unlike me, Steve was an only child and confessed to having missed growing up with siblings. The sorrow that mirrored in his eyes melted my heart away. I sensed that having lots of children was a way to fill in the void left by a brotherless childhood.
Tonight after dinner we snuggled up on the sofa in front of a warm crackling fire with Peter sleeping at our feet and set a tentative date for our wedding. June 12th. I will be a June bride. How romantic!
Steve is leaving for his mission early in the morning. Dear Diary, between you and me I’m worried sick. I can’t let it show nor say a word to Steve for he’s liable to call off the wedding. I’ve heard that intelligence agents married with children are often relegated to domestic assignments. However those men are not endowed with a formidable strength supplied by a six-million-dollar bionic apparatus. Will Uncle Sam agree to part with his boy wonder? Adding to my anxiety is the fact that they haven’t caught Harraway yet. He’s still out there, gunning for Steve I can feel it.
Oh my! With all that’s happened I forgot to call mom. The news of the engagement ring will have to wait till tomorrow during my lunch break, unless Steve has another surprise planned?
P.S. By the way the mysterious godsend helper who organized my folders, guess who it was? (wink)
May 7th 1976
Today the boss gave me the day off so that Steve and I could fly to Ojai to spend the weekend at his parents’ farm. Helen and Jim have invited my mom and dad to join us on this trip. They were very insistant, stating that it would give them an opportunity to get better acquainted. I entertained a few qualms about the arrangement. I apprehended this first meeting between future in-laws, fearing the worse. Dad, especially, can be a trifle pretentious and sometimes condescending towards anyone who doesn’t share his views on war and politics. Mom has to have her way, often in the kitchen. If a dish is prepared differently from what she’s accustomed to, she tends to throw a fit. I voiced my concern to Steve last night and he admitted to sharing my misgivings, but he wouldn’t allow himself to paint a grim view of things. He swore not to let an unfounded fear cast a gloom over his bliss and suggested that I follow his example; bear and grin it and hope for the best. Anyway it’s better they meet now, one month before the blissful event than at the wedding and risk a major fall out.
We flew to Ojai and met with Steve’s father at the airport. He informed us that my parents’ flight had been delayed an hour and would come back for them after he dropped us off at the house. I didn’t mind waiting at the airport but Helen wouldn’t allow it. She was so anxious to see us.
I was honestly fretting for no reason. To my great delight, mom and dad instantly took to the Elgins and the feeling was mutual. Steve threw me an I-told-you-so smile and gave me a peck on the top of my nose. Okay, he was right! I had to admit it. He couldn’t stop wallowing in his triumph. I was relieved but still harboured doubts as to the evening when they would engage in a more serious conversation. When Jim and dad broached the subject of World War II, I knew I’d be skating on thin ice. I cringed. They were both veterans of that war and at some point I felt the conversation was growing acrimonious. I had my finger on the panic button when Steve jumped in to veer the conversation around to the topic of fishing. Oh Steve, I love you! You just staved off a disaster.
Mom and Helen were in the kitchen swapping recipes and exchanging ideas on the banquet menu. While the folks were chattering away, Steve led me outside to stroll the ground under a beautiful sunset, colorful as the spreading of a peacock’s tail. I was serenely aware of the surroundings as I basked in the warmth of Steve’s embrace. Dear Diary, it’s strange but I’m sent into such transports of delight whenever I’m on the farm. I’m beginning to think this is where my heart belongs. When we stopped and leaned against the fence of the horse paddock, I continued to breathe in the sweet smell of hay and contemplated the prospect of living on a farm like this one. Plenty of space to raise a family; an atmosphere where our children can develop and run wild and carefree into the wide-open fields. I told Steve how lucky he was to have grown up on a farm.
Come on, this is silly! We can’t live here. We both have jobs in Washington and Steve has a beautiful large house with several bedrooms. We can always come back for visits? Don’t blame me for nourishing the thought. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could? I can dream, can’t I?
...Continued