Life Goes On–Part 9
By Nancy F. Thysell (The Nifty Lady)
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It was Wednesday, December 28, 1977. New Year’s Eve was just around the corner. It was early afternoon as Chris lugged the laundry basket downstairs to the basement. Johnny was napping in the recliner, the t.v. was on and Peggy Sue was asleep on his lap. She had become Johnny’s constant companion since Christmas morning. The two cats had adapted well to their new environment. Buddy especially seemed to enjoy spending time in the barn while Holly preferred the quiet atmosphere of the house and being near Chris. As she started the water in the washer, Chris thought she heard the door bell ring. Furious resounding barking followed, meaning Peggy Sue was alerted to an intruder. She could hear Johnny make his way to the door. She listened for a moment and poured in the detergent and closed the lid. She set the temperature on the dryer and pushed the start button on it. Wiping off her hands, she headed back up the stairs. She could hear Johnny chatting amicably with someone he obviously knew. She wondered if Roy and JoAnne had stopped by and quickly ascended the steps. She opened the door from the basement stairs into the living room. Johnny beamed at her.
"Chris! Look who stopped by!" he said as he gestured toward the sofa. Chris looked with anticipation which quickly fell when she saw Van Kessler. His presence bothered her, especially over what had happened the last time he had been in their home.
"Hi Chris!" he greeted her warmly. Chris nodded slightly.
"Van." She crossed over to sit on the arm of Johnny’s chair and draped her arm around Johnny’s shoulder as he slipped his arm about her waist.
"What brings you out our way?" she asked politely.
"Oh, I just wanted to see how Johnny was doing. He sure is missed around the station. Roy, too!" Van replied easily. Johnny laughed.
"They’ve stuck you with Brice, haven’t they?" he chuckled. Van grimaced before admitting that it was the truth.
"How did you know?" he asked ruefully.
"I’ve heard enough complaints from Roy to last a lifetime."
"Enough of Craig Brice! How are you two doing? Any big plans for New Year’s?" he asked enthusiastically.
"I think we’re just going to have a quiet time at home. Just the two of us," Johnny said as he gave Chris a squeeze. She smiled uncomfortably. She silently chastised herself for feeling so ill at ease. She rose to her feet.
"How about some refreshments? Would you like some coffee Van?" she asked as she crossed to the kitchen.
"If it’s not too much trouble...thank you," he replied.
"No, it’s not any trouble at all. Johnny practically takes it intravenously," she joked. Johnny threw her a look.
"Hey! Don’t give away all my secrets!" he scolded her. She stuck out her tongue playfully at him and disappeared into the kitchen. Once Chris was out of the room, the two paramedics turned their conversation to "shop" talk. Before long, Chris returned to the room and sat in an arm chair.
"Coffee’s brewing," she announced. "It won’t be long now."
She sat quietly listening to the guys talk about their jobs and couldn’t help notice how Van kept staring at her. Something inside her kept telling her that this was inappropriate but Johnny didn’t seem to notice it. So she decided that it was probably just an overactive imagination on her part. She rose to go check on the coffee.
"Can I help?" Van offered as he rose to his feet.
"Uh, no. I think I can manage. How do you take your coffee, Van?" she asked, trying to remain a good hostess.
"Well, why don’t I come with you and I can fix it myself? I know this guy here takes his black. Am I right, Johnny?"
"You’re right but Chris knows that, too," he admitted. Chris smiled a little.
"Okay. If you insist," Chris told Van. He smiled broadly.
"I insist!" he responded and followed Chris into the kitchen. As Chris reached for the cups in the cupboard, Van came up behind her and reached for a cup at the same time, startling her so that she almost dropped the cup. Van was so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. She found it unnerving. But without a word, he took his cup and turned and filled it from the pot on the stove. Chris took down two cups with trembling hands. She took a moment to steady her shaking hands before turning toward Van. He smiled as he took in her nervousness. He found it thrilling that he could elicit such a reaction with such simple gestures. Quickly he turned and helped himself to the sugar on the table as Chris poured coffee for herself and Johnny. She set them on the table and then she crossed to the refrigerator.
"Do you need cream?" she asked as she removed the carton from the fridge.
"Yes, thank you," he responded and turned toward her. He reached for the carton and made sure that his fingers lingered a moment on hers before he took it out of her hands. He smiled into her eyes and then turned to add cream to his cup, stirring it to a warm toffee shade. Chris side-stepped him to fix her own cup as he lifted the cup to take a sip.
"Hmm. That is so good! It oughta be illegal," Van commented beguilingly. Somehow, Chris got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the coffee. She quickly finished fixing her coffee and hurried to carry Johnny’s cup to him. She hoped that Van wouldn’t be staying long. It was difficult to pin point and nothing she felt she could really say to Johnny, but she really was beginning to dislike being around Van.
Once they were all settled with their coffee, Johnny inquired of Van, "So how are things with you and Shelly?"
"Oh, we’re not seeing each other anymore," he said lightly.
"Well, I’m sure Johnny can suggest a number of nurses that are available," Chris offered.
"Me? I burned that book a long time ago," Johnny informed them, smiling over at Chris. "I think it disappeared about the time I met you!"
"Yeah, I’ll just bet. Seems to me I recall a certain Pamela Forester about that same time," Chris pointed out.
"Who’s Pamela Forester?" Van wanted to know.
"Oh, just a stewardess I used to date," Johnny admitted. Van immediately perked up.
"Is she still single?" he asked with great interest. He figured if Johnny dated her then she might be worth checking out.
"As far as I know," Johnny said. "I’ll give you her number and you can give her a call. But why she’d go out with the likes of you, well,..."
"See! I knew you hadn’t burned that book!" Chris said triumphantly. Johnny smiled sheepishly.
"I did get rid of the book. Honest! Pam gave me her address and number after she helped me out on that flight to KC. Remember, I told you what a big help she was getting me in touch with you," Johnny spoke quickly.
"Well, I remember you telling me about her helping you..." Chris responded in a teasing tone.
"So, can I have her number or not?" Van interrupted, impatiently. He suddenly had visions of a New Year’s Eve date.
"Chris, I think my wallet is on the dresser. Would you mind getting it for me?"
Chris gave him a look of mock shock. "You mean to tell me, you’ve been carrying her phone number around with you in your wallet?"
"Yes dear," he answered contritely.
"I’ll go fetch it. Excuse me, Van," she responded and headed upstairs. She felt relieved that Van could turn his attentions on someone else. She returned with Johnny’s wallet a few minutes later and then excused herself again as she went to tend to the laundry.
When she returned to the living room, Johnny and Van were excitedly making plans for New Year’s Eve.
"What’s going on?" she asked curiously.
"Well, Van got a hold of Pam! And she’s agreed to go out with him for New Year’s. And Van suggested that we hold a party here since you and I can’t go out on the town. We can invite the guys from the station and their dates. Make a party of it! Whattaya think?" Johnny told her excitedly. Chris smiled down at her husband. She had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with him but the idea of a party seemed to make him happy so she went along with it. Besides, it might be fun. It would be their very first party as a married couple to host.
"I think it’s a grand idea. Though, we’d better get busy and invite everyone though before they have other plans," she suggested.
"No sooner said than done," Van volunteered for the task.
The next couple of hours they made phone calls and planned the menu. Van stayed for dinner and they continued to plan the music and decorations. By the time Van left everything was set for the party. As Johnny and Chris made their way to bed, she was feeling quite good about the party. It didn’t bother her so much that Van would be there since he’d have a date. And she couldn’t be happier that it was Pam Forester.
Peggy Sue trotted up the stairs behind them and snuck into the bedroom before Johnny could close the door. She curled up at the foot of the bed, yawned contentedly, and fell promptly asleep.
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By Friday, Chris was having her doubts about this New Year’s Eve Party. It was definitely turning into more trouble than she had ever imagined it would. Between fighting the crowds to find decorations and buying enough food and beverages, she felt like she’d run a marathon. And of course, Johnny could do little to help her but he did promise to chop vegetables for her. That he could do sitting down. It was late Friday night when she finally got to bed. She felt exhausted. Johnny, however, had other ideas. She groaned and rolled away from him when he made his advances. But Johnny wasn’t willing to take "no" for an answer and before Chris knew it, despite her exhaustion, she succumbed to the foreplay.
Saturday found Chris busy vacuuming and trying to put the house in order for their guests. Chet and Marco had volunteered to come over in the afternoon and help her decorate. However, they wouldn’t get there until after two so she still had a lot to do. Johnny of course, being ever helpful, kept supervising what she did. She tried not to let it bother her but his "helpfulness" was wearing thin. Finally she escaped to the basement to run a load of laundry. The basement was cool and dark and felt really inviting to her. She flopped down in one of the laundry baskets that was full of dried clothing that she hadn’t yet folded and taken upstairs. She almost had to laugh at herself, imagining how she must look. Holly stepped out from behind the stairs and greeted her with a squeaky "Meow!"
"Well, hey there! I was wondering where you had disappeared to," she spoke to the calico cat. Holly crossed the distance between them in a couple of running hops and landed on her lap in the basket. As Chris stroked her back, the cat began kneading Chris’ tummy with her front paws. Chris laughed. Her mother always said it looked like someone kneading dough and jokingly called it "making biscuits." She lifted the cat and tried to force her to lie down.
"Enough with the biscuits, already!" she demanded. Those little claws had sharp points! Holly looked at her with golden eyes as if to say, "What?" Chris scooped her up and kissed her nose. "Oh, you are just too sweet!"
Chris threw her head back and groaned. I wonder if I can sneak upstairs with this basket and take a nap? Any hope she had for that was dashed as she heard Johnny yell "Come in!". That meant Chet and Marco must have arrived. She glanced at her watch. It was only a little after one. They must have decided to come early. Wearily, she dragged herself from the basket, checked on the clothes in the washer, and started the load in the dryer. Then she lifted the basket of the clean clothes and made her way upstairs. Maybe I’ll just let Johnny direct those two and I’ll go rest anyway.
She pushed the door to the basement stairs open with one hand, struggling to hold on to the basket with her other hand when she reached the top of the stairs. Suddenly another pair of hands was there, helping.
"Here! Let me take that for you!" Van offered as he pulled the basket out of her grasp.
"Oh! Uh...thank you," she responded, uncertainly.
"Where do you want this?" he asked. Chris felt his eyes boring into hers. She felt flushed.
"My...uh...our bedroom. Upstairs," she stammered. Van grinned at her and headed up the stairs. Chris tried to recover her composure as she crossed to Johnny.
"What’s he doing here?" she whispered. Johnny shrugged his shoulders, wondering at Chris’ concern.
"He heard that Chet and Marco were coming over to help out so he thought he’d come too. You don’t mind do you? I mean, sweetie, you’ve been working yourself ragged and I can’t help much. An extra pair of hands can only make the job go quicker," Johnny reasoned. Chris wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You’re right. I guess I’m just tired. Do you mind if I go lay down for a spell? Chet and Marco should be here anytime now."
"No. I don’t mind. But you’re sure that you don’t want to supervise the decorations?" Johnny asked, surprised. Chris shook her head and kissed him on the forehead.
"Nope. That’s your job! Everything you need is in the pantry. I left the bags in there so Peggy Sue couldn’t get to them," she informed him. Peggy Sue perked up her ears at the mention of her name from beside the recliner and yawned broadly. "And speaking of Peggy Sue, don’t you think she needs to make a trip outside?"
"Yeah, I’ll get Van to take her out. Where is he anyway? Van! Where are ya, buddy?" Johnny yelled out. Van ambled down the stairs, adjusting his shirt from an obvious trip to the bath room.
"Here I am. Whatcha need?" he asked once he reached the living room.
"Would you grab Peggy Sue’s leash and take her outside for a walk?" Johnny asked.
"Leash? What in the world does that puppy need a leash out here on your place for?" Van scoffed at the idea. If it were up to him, he’d just push her out the door and let her fend for herself.
"We’re trying to train her to obey a leash for when we go places away from home," Johnny explained.
"Oh. Okay. Where’s her leash?"
"It’s on a hook behind the door. Thanks, Van."
"No problem. Come on, Peggy Sue. Let’s go outside!" he called to the pup. Again, she perked up at the sound of her name. She bounded across the floor as Van knelt down. He wrestled with her briefly before attaching the leash. Then they went out the front door.
"Don’t let me sleep too long," Chris requested of Johnny as she headed up the stairs. The thought of a nice long nap was just so appealing. Still, she felt a bit ill at ease with Van there, especially after what happened the last time when Van came over to help. But then she reasoned that she was just being paranoid and tried to dismiss it. Besides, Johnny was here this time. She yawned as she closed the bedroom door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and grabbed a lightweight throw from the foot of the bed and laid down, covering herself with the blanket. She rolled onto her side and drew her left leg up as she pulled the pillow under her neck. She was sound asleep when Chet and Marco arrived.
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Someone was knocking lightly on the bedroom door. Chris slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton.
"Go away!" she mumbled.
"Chris? Sweetie?" Johnny called as he opened the door. He peered into the darkened room. It was nearly seven o’clock. The guys had just left so they could change and pick up their dates and get back for the party. Chris had slept soundly through all their efforts to decorate the house for the evening. Johnny felt a bit concerned that Chris had been sleeping so deeply for so long. He made his way into the room using a single crutch to support the weight of his walking cast.
"Huh? Oh! What time is it?" she asked groggily as she looked around.
Johnny sat down on the bed and rubbed her arm. "Almost seven. I figure you’d want to start getting ready soon. People will start arriving around nine, I guess."
Chris sat up and felt the room spin as she did. She steadied herself on Johnny’s arm. He studied her with some concern.
"What’s wrong Chris?" he asked point-blank. She started to wave him off with her other hand but instead touched her head with it.
"Dizzy. I guess I sat up too fast," she reasoned. Johnny frowned.
"Is it anything like the night you got that flat tire?" he asked and surreptitiously held her wrist to check her pulse. Realizing what Johnny was doing, Chris jerked her wrist out of his grasp.
"No! Yes! I don’t know. I’m okay!" she snapped and swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "I’d better get my shower. Excuse me!"
Johnny watched her disappear into the bathroom and slam the door behind her. He sat bewildered, not quite understanding what had just transpired. On the other side of the door, Chris slid to the floor and sobbed silently. She didn’t understand her emotions at all! Why did I snap at Johnny like that? What’s wrong with me? I just want this dizziness to stop!
Johnny hobbled over to the bathroom and hesitated. He could hear Chris crying and felt totally helpless. He reached out a hand to open the door and then stopped short of grasping the knob. He turned and walked over to his closet instead to decide what to wear to the party. He was getting so tired of wearing sweat pants put with the cast on, it wasn’t practical to wear anything else. He heard the water running and hoped that whatever was bothering Chris wouldn’t last past her shower.
Johnny sat on the bed waiting for Chris to finish. He was beginning to become antsy. One thing John Gage rarely did well was wait. At last the door to the bathroom opened. Chris had one towel wrapped around her head and another barely covering her nakedness. Johnny could see that the mirror was fogged over. Chris’ eyes looked red and puffy.
"I’m sorry I was so short with you," she apologized as she entered.
"It’s okay. Do you feel better now?" he asked softly as he watched her clinically. His paramedic training seemed to be kicking in. He held out a hand to her and she took it. He pulled her close and she sat on the bed and leaned into him.
"Forgive me for being such a witch?" she asked timidly. His arm circled her and he held her tightly.
"You haven’t been a witch! I guess I’m just a natural born worrier when it comes to you," he chuckled lightly. He inhaled her essence and found himself tugging at her towel to remove it.
"And just what do you think you’re doing John Gage?" Chris giggled as his hands slid against her skin. Johnny sought her eyes and held them with his.
"What do you think?" he whispered wickedly as his mouth found hers.
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"Johnny! You’d better hurry!" Chris prompted as she adjusted her earrings. She checked her hair and makeup one more time in the dresser mirror. Johnny’s muffled reply from the bathroom was unintelligible. It was almost nine o’clock. Their guests would start arriving anytime now.
"What did you say?" she asked and moved over to the door and opened it. Johnny was at the sink, still shaving. He turned as the door opened.
"I said, I’ll be ready in a few minutes," he repeated himself. "I’ll be down as soon as I can. Why don’t you go ahead downstairs?"
"Oh! Trying to get rid of me, are you?" she teased. He grinned at her in the mirror as he prepared to scrape the razor against his cheek.
"Never! As a matter of fact, I’m beginning to wish we had the whole night to ourselves," he admitted with a wolfish grin. His eyes ran appreciatively over her outfit. Chris leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms over the silk-like fabric of her royal blue dress that clung to her body. The petal like shape of the three-quarter sleeves touched her elbows allowing Chris to show off her new bracelet. The dress had a modest yet plunging neckline. The handkerchief-style hem fell just below her knees since Chris was sensitive about the scars on her leg. Her outfit was completed with a silver chain necklace and matching earrings. Johnny’s eyes lingered on her silky stockings. She wore a pair of silver pumps. He thought she looked fantastic.
"You look good enough to eat! You’d better get downstairs before I forget we’re having company," he warned her lightly.
"Okay, I’m going. I can tell when I’m not wanted," she retorted with a smile. "Take your time. I don’t want you nicking that pretty face of yours!"
Johnny laughed as she disappeared from view and considered himself a lucky man. He started humming as he finished shaving. Peggy Sue padded through the open door and plopped herself down at his feet, panting happily. Johnny looked down at the young dog and smiled. He thought to himself how quickly the puppy had stolen his heart–almost as fast as Chris had. He grinned back in the mirror as he wiped off the remaining shaving cream. Yes, John Gage was a very lucky man.
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END PART 9--TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 10
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