peggy putting steve to rest and moving on with her life but also coming back once a year, every year, on the anniversary of the day steve’s plane went down into the arctic
she just catches steve up since the last year, telling him all the big things that have happened in her life. she tells him when she gets engaged and married, has her first child. her second. her third. she tells him how after fifteen years, her husband is still a lazy lump that won’t get up in the morning until she shoves coffee under his nose. she tells him about the cold war and korea and vietnam
just because she’s moved on doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss steve any less. it’s just a dull ache, like a toothache, to be indulged when she has time, but ignored when she doesn’t. throughout the years, without fail, she takes an hour out of her busy life to lean against the rails and unpack steve from the depths of her heart and greet an old friend like nothing changed. then she straightens up, sniffs briskly while wiping at her eyes, then bids him farewell until the next year