Our life in California went on as normally as life can go on when you’re unemployed in a new state and trying to break into an industry that already has was too many actors. We had arrived in Hollywood at the very bottom of the industry. Tom had a halfway decent agent. I had a very good modelling agent, but I was coming up on forty, so I was pushing the envelope on age in my career. Our life revolved around trying to survive, somehow. Some months it was feast, and some months famine.

Many years later, after Tom was gone, and I had consulted the well-known psychic, Pam Coronado to find out about my dream of Tom’s infidelity, she gave me the name that she saw as of one of Tom’s main flames. Once I knew what might have been going on, one incident, which I’d previously written about in my blog about our Hollywood adventures as the most romantic night of my life, took on an entirely new meaning.

More often than we know, I believe someone who loves us, either God, an angel, or a deceased relative, exerts their power over this world and shoves us in a better direction. I think they give us a chance to wake up and smell the coffee, if we possibly can, and avoid making big mistakes. I guess they can’t force a person to do something or to change, but they can make things happen which will head off the worst of our mistakes, at least for a little while.

Shortly after we’d finally sold our country house and moved to LA, there was an incident which involved the very person who was allegedly Tom’s secret temptress and whose siren song had such great power over his mind and will. Yeah, her. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson after he got stranded, jobless, in New York City. But no, he came back for more.

Once we got settled in Hollywood, the confusing things Tom had done back east appeared in hindsight to be simply the result of the demands our peculiar careers made on us. I was completely unsuspicious that there might be someone secretly working against our marriage and trying to get Tom to leave me or that he was an eager and willing partner in that scheme. When I was given the name of my alleged rival, this incident was probably far more important than I would ever have guessed in saving my marriage and keeping the home fires burning, romantically speaking.

We’d been in California barely three months, just enough time to get settled. It was our first Fourth of July on the west coast. We were invited to a big barbecue at the home of a woman who I thought of as simply one of our acquaintances. There would be lots of other actors and people at the party who we knew from back east. I was looking forward to seeing several of our old friends again. But other than that, this gathering was completely inconsequential in my mind. We might hear some interesting gossip, but these actors and even the woman giving the party were all soap people. According to Tom, he’d turned down the New York soap opera, and we’d sold our house, come to LA cold turkey to leave the world of soap opera behind, and move up in the industry.

Once again, I was completely misled. Tom apparently was in hot pursuit of this woman and hoped her contacts might help him get a soap opera job in California. My guess now is that she was the real reason we were in Hollywood.

The party was at her beautiful beach home along the California coast. It was a very pleasant party. Nothing stands out particularly in my memory. However, while I was innocently socializing with other guests, Tom and the other woman were no doubt having cozy little confabs right under my nose and probably figuring how soon Tom could get free of his wife and be available to her in all the ways she required.

Yes, my beloved was coldly calculating leaving me, suddenly, heartlessly and without warning. However, we were both about to get some big time help when we needed it most from the powers that rule the universe.

It was late evening on that Fourth of July when we started the long drive home. We sailed down the Pacific Coast Highway in our revved up postal jeep with top off and the starry nighttime sky over our heads. We cruised along in the balmy Los Angeles twilight, buffeted by the salty ocean breezes. It was truly California dreaming.

As he drove down the highway, Tom was off in his own world and seemed quite content. He was always great at logistics, so I'm sure he was figuring out how to arrange things so her could leave me. However, as we approached the Sunset Boulevard turnoff, everyone was going home from their beach barbecue, and the traffic was bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see.

Since we had to go from one end of Sunset all the way to the other end in Los Feliz, it looked to be a long, slow ride home. The traffic was creeping at a snail’s pace. At that moment, I believe the somebody was watching over us and stepped in. Suddenly, the jeep's engine temperature shot into the red zone. Steam billowed out from under the hood. We pulled off to the side of the road and let more steam off.

Once the engine cooled, Tom checked the radiator; it was bone dry. It must have sprung a leak. We were stuck. Nothing to do but try to get to a gas station to refill it. But in this traffic, the jeep will overheat again very quickly because there won't even be any airflow to cool the engine. It was stop, go, stop, go, making agonizingly slow progress in the heavy traffic. At last, a couple of blocks ahead, we spotted a gas station, our salvation. Except when we arrive, it's closed. Late at night on the Fourth, everything will be closed. Bummer.

Angry and disgusted, Tom grabbed a plastic jug from the back seat, found a water spigot at the station and filled the radiator with water. Then he refilled the jug. It won’t be enough water to go very far, but maybe there will be another gas station further on.

Unfortunately, we were at the far northern end of Sunset Boulevard, where it winds through some very scenic, but mostly undeveloped, remote areas. There are miles of deep canyons, a state park, a couple of college campuses, and some sparsely settled areas with expensive mansions, hiding in acres of landscaping. But there are no gas stations.

We crept slowly homeward. Tom loved cars, and that jeep was always a favorite of his. What a blow it must have been to him for it to break down, tonight of all nights, just as he was getting ready to launch himself as a free man.

However, once I realized that the steaming engine wasn't going to blow up, I wasn't upset at all. In fact, I thought it was actually kind of fun. We were in no hurry. Tom assured me the problem with the car was easily fixed and wouldn’t break our bank account. The drive along the fabled Sunset Boulevard was taking us on a leisurely journey through some of the most gorgeous scenery in Los Angeles. Everywhere we had to pull over and park while the engine cooled provided a stunning vista of distant lights dotting the fragrant hillsides.

Once we reached the pricey, more residential areas, we had to pull off onto side streets, where every house was someone’s dream home. We’d park beneath a fabulous blue jacaranda, or an orange or lemon tree, or alongside masses of intoxicatingly aromatic night blooming jasmine. Then we’d sit back, gaze up at the starry sky. It was a ravishing feast for the senses and a quick and sure route to Tom’s heart. He was always a very fond and affectionate man, and he was especially fond of me, in spite of his determination to desert me. On that long drive home, I was just the person to make him feel good and loved. We laughed, we snuggled, we dreamed, and we basked in the dark, delicious paradise that surrounded us.

It was always hard to get Tom to stop and smell the roses or the night blooming jasmine, but somebody was watching out for both of us and had gorgeously trapped him with the woman whose charms he couldn’t resist. Yes, with the help of the spirit world, I reestablished my firm grip on his earthy libido on that very romantic night. I’ll never forget our slow jeep ride to Los Feliz. It was a magical night, one I will always cherish. Whatever he thought of me and whatever plans he was making for his future, he couldn’t stop himself from enjoying being with me.

About four hours later, just as dawn was turning the sky pearly gray, we arrived back at our little apartment, safe and happy. Knowing how our lives are in the hands of a greater who helps us gratify our true heart’s desires, I think the threat to our happiness that night was very dire indeed. Having thrown away everything else, Tom was on the verge of abandoning our marriage and my love. But Love seems to draw power to itself from the great animating force of the universe, God. We were saved, because, no matter what, I loved Tom. And on that fateful Fourth of July, whatever and whoever Tom might think he wanted, he was trapped with his true love in a little bit of heaven on Sunset Boulevard.

Tom’s engine overheating? Pretty funny. Coincidence? I don't think so. Proof that God has a very active sense of humor. You bet. The Creator very certainly smiles on love. Someone in the spirit world was working very hard to keep Tom and me together.



After a year of California sunshine and health clubs, my impossible dream came true. After more than six years of trying, I got pregnant. Once I got pregnant, I had to quit modelling and acting in order to find jobs with steady paychecks to help out.