Magnet & Steele

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Magnet & Steele Page 7

by Trisha Fuentes


  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Derrie finally said.

  “Are you OK? Did you hurt yourself?” Francine asked, gazing at his whole body for possible injury.

  “Wasn’t me. That was my friend. I would never compromise getting hurt like that. I’ve gotta think about my throwing arm.”

  “Oh my God, that was so scary. Is he OK?”

  “Yeah, he’s cool, he’s my center and he’s used to getting bumps and bruised up.”

  Francine let go a giggle and Derrie stared down at her lips as she laughed. Derrie studied her face for a long moment and Francine’s lips part. Intense, obvious attraction made them both nervous.

  Feeling a little awkward now, Francine headed down the steps backwards. “So, OK, so if you need anything…I’ll just be next door,” she explained, pointing across the street and not towards her house.

  Derrie cleared his throat. “Got some time?” He asked, clearing it once again. “Maybe we can get to work on our school project?”

  Francine thought about it for a moment and her heart skipped a strange beat. Hmmm, gardening with mom, or working on a school project with the school hunk? “Yeah, um sure, I’ve got some time. Let me just tell my mom where I’m at and I’ll be right back.” She began to walk away when she thought about something else and quickly turned around. “Hey Derrie?”

  “Yeah?”

  Francine thought about the last couple of Saturday mornings. “Can we talk about getting rid of your motorcycle?”

  His room was trimmed in navy blue and white. Football trophies, helmets and balls of every sport occupied every inch of the floor. After-shave and an electric razor tied up the top of his writing desk, while a typewriter filled up the rest. Feeling compelled to read what was on his wall, Francine walked over to it and began to read the couple of plaques hanging next to his desk. Intrigued by his accomplishments, they stated: “DEREK MAGNET – MVP – ALL LEAGUE 1965 FOOTBALL REGIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP” and another, “DEREK MAGNET – MVP – ALL-LEAGUE 1966 FOOTBALL REGIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP”. She felt almost proud to know him, Ray was the only other boy she knew who achieved such honors in sports and her sister had Ray.

  Across Town

  Walking down the aisles of a Ralph’s Supermarket looking for groceries, Nancy felt impatient as she eyed all the various choices of canned corn she now had to choose from: creamed corn, unsalted corn, white corn, mixed white and yellow corn and corn with salt.

  At the checkout stand, Nancy with her cart full of food and three different choices of corn began to unload her items onto the rolling counter when she caught a glimpse of a magazine ad that read: “Luccardi’s Fine Italian Cuisine – Delizioso – Five Locations To Serve You!”

  Nancy reached for the magazine and ran her fingertips across the ad. Under her breath, she said, “Luccardi’s…that’s the second time I’ve seen that name.”

  The check-out girl heard her and responded, “Oh, I love that restaurant, they have really great food there, have you been there before?”

  Nancy was still in some kind of daze when she looked up at the strange girl. “What?” And then she shook her head as she continued to gaze down at the colorful magazine. “Oh, no, I haven’t. Is it really all that good?”

  “Oh yeah…my husband took me there for our anniversary last year, they have the best cannoli!” The check-out girl gushed, punching in the prices on the cash register above her chest.

  Nancy watched the girl as she expertly grabbed an item and then without looking at the numbers on her register, punched in the numbers on the label and into the console. “Well, then I will just have to check it out myself,” she said, now watching the box boy packing her groceries up for her.

  This was her life now, grocery shopping for a lonely household, with both her eldest children gone from her house; she only cooked for three and no longer five. When the children were little, she was at least grateful that she had them to occupy her monotonous time. She rejoiced when Stephen was at work and she could be left alone during the day to go and visit her friend Kelly, but now she had no friends in California with any small children to look after, only Francine, who, in her own strange way was a comfort to her when she got home from school. Nancy looked forward when her daughter would step through their front door now. She looked forward to seeing her face and talking to someone other than her reflection or her husband’s unresponsive attitude.

  As of late, she felt restless; her life was in the doldrums. She’s been a housewife for so long with nothing to do and never felt useful. She felt so unappreciated lately and wanted to scream if anyone would listen. Her life, thus far, had not been what she imagined it would be.

  She did make that call to Mr. Madestry in 1945, and he did have a secretary—her name was Meredith—and Nancy did set up that appointment to come in that week to see him, she even went on a photo shoot and took a few pictures for a magazine ad for Catalina swimwear, and later that week, she did meet with Louis B. Mayer, the head of MGM Studios and Mr. Mayer was interested in her, in fact, he seemed excited about her and she even read a few scripts and he promised her a bit part as a dancer in an upcoming movie called the “Ziegfeld Follies” starring Fred Astaire, Lucille Ball, Judy Garland, Gene Kelly, Esther Williams and Lena Horne, oh, the list went on and on! Mr. Mayer even sent her to a few dance classes to help her learn how to tap and properly kick her leg, even to a few ballet lessons to be trained on improving her posture and arm strength, but her big break was quickly obliterated by the understanding that she wasn’t even allowed to day-dream anymore and all her hard work was then anchored to an auburn-haired nightmare named Stephen Steele.

  Since the day her father forced her to marry Stephen, Nancy has felt like she’s been running besides herself trying to catch up to any sort of dream. When her children were little they would occupy her time with their immediate needs. Now that they were older she didn’t know what to do. Does she find a new hobby? Learn to needle-point; knit a new sweater? Learn how to play golf? Ride a horse? Join a book club or pottery class? Should she start up dance lessons again? Contact MGM? Were they casting a middle-aged woman for any sort of movie? She had endless possibilities but she didn’t want to do any of it. Everything that interested her didn’t hold much weight and she fell right smack in the middle of the doldrums.

  Her constant depression was over-whelming. Gardening around her house, planting a new plant or rose bush was the only highlight of her day. She was melancholy and very pessimistic about her future, some days she felt hallow and other days she felt short changed, like she missed out on something or was meant to be another person and not this meek, unfinished woman she now had become.

  She wanted to paint again; she even crossed over the street one day and browsed the acrylic section of a nearby art studio. But how does she paint and feel creative when she had no inspiration? How do you feel inspired when all you felt was misery?

  Paul was an adult now, he would soon start his own family when he came home from the army, Suzy’s been banished from the home, no longer accessible when she felt like having some female company. And there was Francine. Her second daughter, she had never been close to her last child, her supposed baby, and she felt a little guilty not feeling close to her own flesh and blood. Francine was becoming a woman now and a woman she hardly knew, but she would have to change that.

  November, 1967

  Inside her bedroom, Francine and Derrie were studying hard on the floor. Books and paper were spread all over the carpet. The economic final was in two days and they were in mid-study with pencils and erasers spread all over them.

  “My economics grade better be bitchin with all this studying I did on this damn thing,” Derrie joked.

  “It will,” Francine confirmed.

  “I came up with three hundred dollars, how about you?”

  “Six hundred.”

  “How can that be?”

  Francine stood up and placed a hat on her head. “I got a job.”

  Derrie got up as well
and jerked the hat off. “No way, no wife of mine is gonna work.”

  “This wife was gonna work.”

  “Not if she’s tied to the bed.”

  Francine blushed and then turned away. “You’ve got to realize something Derrie, this is the sixties. Women are joining the work force now more than ever.”

  “Not my wife, she’s gonna be home raising my six kids.”

  Francine wavered and bit down on her lower lip. That was very sweet, but his appealing comment wasn’t going to help matters much because there was something that she’s wanted him to know since the day she had met him. Every time she was next to him however, his eyes would steal her courage away. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend and he made her feel at ease each day she was by his side. “Derrie, sit down, there’s something you should know.”

  “You don’t like kids?”

  Francine smiled, “No, I love kids.” This was harder than she thought and fingered the hat still within her hands.

  Derrie does sit down, but on her bed. “Just say it Francine, by the look on your face, it can’t be good.”

  Francine looked away from his brazenness. “Derrie, I’m glad we’re friends, I like you.”

  “I like you too,” Derrie said, meeting her eyes as she gazed down at him lying now on her bed with his feet crossed at his heels.

  “Thanks,” she smiled again, “I appreciate you spending so much time with me, but I think, you think I’m interested in you.”

  Derrie laughed and quickly got off her bed. “What makes you think that?”

  They stare at one another. Definite attraction was obvious but was pushed aside by their apparent stubbornness.

  “You’re charmed by me,” Francine let go, grasping at straws.

  “Oh please,” Derrie gave out, waving his hand to end her insanity. “Stop flattering yourself, you’re not my type. You’re not a fox and besides your chest is flat.”

  Francine opened up her mouth to insult him back and tried desperately not to look down at her chest. “My chest was not flat!” She yelled back trying not to look at her bosoms accidently. “And anyway, I catch you looking at me at school.”

  “You probably had ketchup on your face.”

  “Always with the quick come-back, why don’t you just confess that you like me?”

  “I do, but as a friend.”

  “Good,” Francine let up upset now, especially about the comment about her chest.

  “Great,” Derrie released, glad that the sticky subject was over and done with.

  “Terrific,” Francine said next, but still disappointed by the realization that he still wasn’t interested in her. Had she misread all the signs? Oh! It didn’t matter anyway… “I think you should know that I have a boyfriend,” she confessed at last, watching Derrie’s face alter from being annoyed to disenchanted.

  An overwhelming sadness crept up on Derrie almost immediately; he had been denying what he felt since day one and now having her confess that she’s been going steady made him feel weird…and jealous. Green with envy that some jerk had free reign to kiss those pink lips he’d been dying to kiss since meeting her.

  And as soon as she noted his reaction, Francine was suddenly despondent as well. Well, he had to know, the feelings she was starting to have for him were getting a little creepy. She was starting to wake up from having sex dreams about him; those weren’t all together disturbing, but curious. She never had sex dreams about Ian Davis (her boyfriend) before…not even once! Well, that wasn’t entirely truthful either, she did wake up from a dream that they had been kissing on the couch. It was one of those close-mouthed kisses, the kind you see in the movies or on the Andy Griffith Show between Andy and Opie’s school teacher, Ellen Crump. No, these kisses were different, some kind of crazy open-mouthed hunger with her hands all over Derrie, up his chest, around his back, imagining him on top of her, deep and wild, she would wake up a little hot and bothered. And now, since the day she came face to face with this weird and wonderful Derek Magnet, all her thoughts were being consumed by his questioning effect he had over her.

  Francine and Derek received an A+ for their economics project and the following day, Derrie decided not to hang around her so much at school. One week, two, three weeks, four, until it became an entire month, kind of odd too if you thought about it, trying to avoid someone who lived right next door to you! Their quick friendship was not normal, he had never felt so at ease with a girl before, and then there was that physical attraction thing he felt towards her since their introduction. He’s had girlfriends before, heck, he’s not even a virgin, but he didn’t know how to control that constant urge to physically attack her whenever she was around! He had to try and find a distraction, something that would aid him out of an out of control fascination.

  Francine sat alone one day at lunch and watched Derrie and a few of his teammates throw the football around and jokingly have fun. Derrie started flirting with some long-haired blonde, purposely ignoring Francine as he did it. It was beginning to get unbearable, Francine hated him now, hurt her deeply enough by simply ignoring her and she needed a full-fledged diversion to stop thinking about him so much.

  *****

  Soldier’s get off an airplane at the Los Angeles International Airport and Francine was there to greet one particular one.

  Ian Davis, twenty-one was average looking with a medium built. A big, bright smile was embraced to his face however, the moment his eyes set on Francine which gave him more appeal.

  “Fran!”

  “Ian!”

  Francine started to run his way as Ian trotted towards her and they come together in a whimsical embrace. Ian closed his eyes the moment he clasped her tightly while Francine unconsciously looked up at the sky, smiling at heaven that God had kept him safe.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “You’re all I’ve thought about through this God damn war,” Ian breathed towards her as he continued to hold her securely within his arms.

  Francine was about to pull away when Ian grabbed her body back again and wrapped both arms around her back keeping her abnormally safe.

  “Oh Ian, I’ve missed you.”

  They lean instinctively towards one another and Ian kissed her long and hard. Ian Davis fit right into her family; he was the missing link. Ian was different than Derrie, different than Derrie in many ways. Her mother’s arms were open for him and her father embraced him, accepting his time. The first time she had met him he was singing in the choir in junior high. He was two years older than she and interesting enough at the time. She was always impressed with his falsetto; his beautiful voice, singing those high notes and wished she could sing as well until one day she mustered enough courage to tell him just that. They were just friends for a few years until he finally asked her to go steady. One year into the relationship and Francine was confused when Ian wouldn’t even try to go to second base with her. He was always so polite, always so gentlemanly like and she kept wondering what the heck was wrong with her. Didn’t he want to touch her in any way shape, or form? One night when they were parked alongside a lonely road, Francine decided to jump on him but he held her body back. Ian confessed that he wanted his first time to be when he was a husband, and that he cared for her deeply, he might even love her, but didn’t want her to get mixed signals by him not showing any respect for her. At the time Francine said she understood, but to this day, she really didn’t.

  Francine comfortably wrapped her arms around his neck and fully kissed him in return. They separated, briefly.

  “Fran, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  The front yard was flourishing beautifully now, trees were beginning to sprout new leaves and the grass was even becoming fuller. Nancy and Francine were outside planting shrubs and flowers in the newly built brick planters that Nancy had put in. Nancy was on the side of one of the planters and dug into the dirt with a shovel.

 

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