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On his last trip to Melbourne, I cried, saying how confused I was and didn’t know where I was going to live.
He told me I didn’t have to worry as we had the motel.
I guess he misunderstood.
My career is in nursing, not running a motel.
He had set the whole thing up with Brenda and Jonathon, so they were waiting at the pub for us. Brenda and I drank champagne until our cheeks hurt from giggling.
I can’t stop staring at the diamond on my finger.
Only I can’t wear it in Melbourne. You’re not allowed while you’re studying, so it will remain locked in my safe.
I’m still in shock, yet somehow, I know I made the right decision.
He loves me.
It’s a weird feeling because it’s like I’m lowering a wall and agreeing to let him take care of me. He didn’t say those words, but marriage is confusing. I’m scared I’m going to lose who I am to be with someone who loves me.
I also love him, but I’d never ask him to give up anything for me. Yet it’s expected, as a woman, my dreams and life are now ones I share with a future husband.
I’m making a promise to myself—my happiness will not be compromised by marriage.
I take a moment to absorb my grandmother’s words. I didn’t get to know my grandfather like I did my gran since he died when I was a child. My heart is torn. I’m reading a love story and vying for the couple only to know the sadness in how it ends.
The next few pages show how much she loves him because it’s only an account of each night they get to share because my grandfather took a week’s holiday to visit Gran in Melbourne. So, she snuck out of the nurses’ quarters every night for a week.
Dad was born in 1961. So I can safely read on knowing my grandparents were still happy.
29th November 1959
I never believed a nursing subject would excite me like microbiology and pharmacology. I’m excited to be living in the 1950s. I’m spending many hours reading textbooks in my room. It distracts me from getting angry when I think about Albert’s parents. They told Albert I couldn’t move into the motel until we’re married. As if they have a right to tell me what to do.
Albert spoke up for me, and his plan is to have separate rooms until then. The nights they don’t stay over, they’ll never know if we’re sleeping together. All I can think about is sleeping in a double bed with Albert and not in this hard single bed. It will feel strange in a good way.
2nd December 1959
Dr. Anderson visited the hospital to give a talk on mosquito-borne diseases.
I was so excited to speak to him after the lecture. He informed me he’s leaving for England in a couple of weeks, so I asked him to send me his address and direct it to Albert’s motel. I told him I was still interested in volunteer work. If he has any contacts to please send me their address so I can apply.
The look he gave me made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
“But you’ll be married by then,” he said.
“Are you telling me they won’t take me as a volunteer because I’m married? God forbid a woman leave her husband to help the poor. Why am I studying bacteria and diseases if I’m not able to use my skills?”
He smiled and patted my shoulder and told me, “You’ll do just fine.”
I close the book and smile because I know where I inherited my determination and maybe some of my stubbornness too.
* * *
My eyes flicker open to a soft touch on my hair and forehead.
Squinting and only half awake, my vision clears. It’s Kaikare, my beautiful aunt, not Samuel touching me. She smiles, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I tell her. I take the diary and put it on my other side, away from her. Ridiculous when she can’t read it. Yet I’m filled with guilt reading words about her mother when she’s entitled to the truth more so than me. When I finish reading Gran’s diary, I’ll ask Samuel to translate parts for Kaikare. A filtered version, depending on how the story pans out.
