Magnet & Steele

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Magnet & Steele Page 12

by Trisha Fuentes


  Nancy looked across at Francine at that moment and actually felt her hesitation. There was something wrong with her daughter, but she just didn’t know how to ask her what it was. She unfolded her beautiful wedding gown and looked down at it once again and thought about her own wedding day and how awful it was. Hopefully, Francine’s wedding wouldn’t be as dreadful as hers was, she was almost sure that her daughter was happy about getting married, and they all loved Ian. “OK Francine, if you say so.”

  A few moments later and inside the bathroom now, Francine was attempting to put mascara on in the mirror when Suzy walked in unexpectedly and handed Francine an envelope.

  “This came for you,” she said simply, handing Francine the letter.

  Francine glanced down at the little white envelope and recognized the handwriting. Closing her eyes and twisting her lips realizing who it was from, she asked anyway, “What is it?”

  Suzy gazed down at the letter. “I dunno…It’s addressed from Notre Dame. Didn’t you say Derrie goes there now?”

  Francine put down the mascara and then looked herself over in the mirror. Not really caring what she looked like at that point, she blurted, “Yeah, he does.”

  Suzy placed the letter on the marble countertop and walked over to Francine’s wedding dress that was hanging up on a hanger now on a hook. “I wish I could have worn a wedding dress,” she said under her breath.

  “Oh Suzy, what could be so important?” Francine spoke up all of a sudden. “What can’t wait? What the hell could Derrie possibly want?”

  Suzy shrugged her shoulders, “I dunno…why don’t you just open it and find out.”

  Francine grabbed the mascara tube and closed the cap on the top and then lobbed it across the basin. Incredibly frustrated at this point, she folded her arms across her chest. “Why would Derrie send me a letter today? Of all days! On my wedding day! What could be so gosh darn important?”

  “Oh God, just open it!” Suzy snapped back at her acting like a ditz. “Do you want me to open it?”

  “Will you?”

  Suzy grabbed the letter off the countertop and tore through it swiftly. Reading it aloud, it read: “‘Dear Francine, congratulations are in order I’d say. Just wanted to let you know that I got married…’” Suzy stopped reading and lifted up her eyes to see Francine holding up the wall with her hand over her mouth. “‘…Yesterday,’” she continued, “‘her name is Donna, she’s a wonderful girl.’ Oh, I’m sorry Fran! Are you OK?”

  “Let me see that,” Francine asked, holding out her hand for the darn thing. She wanted to read the letter herself; did it really say Derrie got married?

  “Sure Fran, you want me to leave?”

  Francine gazed down at the writing and read a few lines. “I don’t know Suzy, I’m happy for him, ‘cause I’m getting married too, right? I mean, I should be happy for him. I feel happy.”

  “You do?” Suzy carefully asked, reaching out to touch her sister’s shoulder. “You don’t look happy,” she softly stated, noticing the tears now in Francine’s eyes. “OK, well, looks like you need some time alone.”

  Francine waited until her sister was no longer in view until she re-read the letter again; three times and then over and over until she fumed with irritation. She crushed the letter into a big ball and then pitched it preciously into the trash can. Oh that, she could make?

  DERRIE GOT MARRIED!

  She doesn’t know how she got there and at present doesn’t really care, but Francine suddenly found herself staring at the lavender boutonniere on Ian’s black tuxedo lapel. Blinking out of her strange stupor, Francine gazed around the church and realized everyone was staring at her. It was her wedding ceremony and she and Ian were at the altar in front of the congregation. Was she supposed to say something at this juncture? Everyone was so silent! Did the Reverend just ask her to recite her vows? Did Ian just say something? Did he recite his already?

  Francine began to shake…shake and shiver from the supposedly wonderful moment that was supposedly happening to her. She bent forward just a little bit and then unexpectedly did a double-take at Derrie’s father in the back row of the church.

  July, 1968

  Nancy rarely did things on purpose, but trimming her rose bushes in the middle of the night was a little odd. In the black of darkness, Nancy was outside trimming the leaves and the dead roses in her front yard when she took a glimpse next door; Angelo’s house was still dark. No porch light was seen on and everything was quiet—no one was home.

  Mrs. Springer, a nosy neighbor was walking her dog across the street when she spotted Nancy doing some pruning. “Nice night, isn’t it Mrs. Steele?”

  “Oh?” Nancy yelled back anxious, “Yes, yes it is Mrs. Springer.”

  “Your porch light not working, Mrs. Steele?”

  Nancy was caught off guard. “Uh,” she hesitated, gazing over at her front door’s porch light. “…No, Mrs. Springer, I can see…see?” She exclaimed, chopping off one of her beautifully bloomed rose buds by mistake.

  Headlights in the distance caused her head to turn quickly around and Nancy waited until Mrs. Springer proceeded down the remainder of the street before she threw down her sheers and ran towards Angelo’s garage as it opened up.

  Just outside the corner of his house, Nancy was shaking. She couldn’t believe she was there and couldn’t believe she was brazen enough to make the first move.

  Angelo slowly stepped out of his car concerned as he eyed her holding up his tool locker like she had something to hide. She actually looked scared as hell. “What’s going on? You OK?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and the looking down at his concrete floor for no reason at all. At once she placed her hands behind her bottom and leaned on them, thinking any moment now, she was just going to attack him in the front seat of his car.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing her dawdling. “Did your husband hurt you?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” she relayed, swallowing hard.

  “Then what then…What?”

  Nancy took another swallow. Her mouth, without warning, became very dry. “I can’t stop thinking of us, of you and I, of what might have been.”

  Angelo shoved his keys down his pant pockets and shut his car door finally. “What do you want me to do? I’m here for you,” he alleged, nervously jingling his keys in the pouch, “You’re the one with all the ties. You’re the one who will have to answer to your husband, to the gossip.”

  Nancy watched him as he cautiously kept his gentlemanly distance. “Oh Angelo, I don’t care about anything other than you right now, nothing else matters more than you. I just want to be with you…I just want to be near you.”

  Angelo halted his key jiggling. Both breathing hard, both bodies aching for one another, he revealed, “I know I feel the same, it’s driving me crazy as well. The other night was not enough for me; it’s never enough for me.”

  Nancy stepped away from the tool locker and towards him.

  “Oh Angelo, what do I do?”

  He paused and then asked, “Am I who you want, Nancy?”

  “Yes,” she breathed finally.

  Angelo went for her body and subsequently wrapped his arms around her, hugging her near. “Where do you want to go?”

  That word ‘where’ was like heaven to her ears, “Your room, a hotel, the back seat of your car…anywhere.”

  He leaned back away from her, but only slightly and whispered, “Nancy, I can’t live like this. After tonight…after we make love, I’m sure I’m going to need you more than just one night. You and I are never meant to be just recreational, we were meant to be together forever. I don’t want half of you if that part has to sneak around in the middle of the night, I want all of you—your days and your nights; I want you in my life period…per sempre.”

  “Damn you Angelo Magetti,” Nancy cried, resting her head on his chest. “Where have you been? I’ve never stopped thinking of you, never stopped loving you, always hope
d and prayed that you would rescue me from my nightmare.”

  “I’m here now,” he gushed, caressing the back of her hair and head. “I’m not leaving you…I’m rescuing you now. I’ll never leave you now, never. I love you Nancy Coursen…you know I always have.”

  Nancy looked up at him looking down at her and impulsively grabbed the back of Angelo’s neck and pulled his lips closer to hers. She’s always loved him as well and they kissed passionately, with heat, fire and that damn impatient desire. His arms unreservedly roamed her entire body; hands up her breasts and all at once down her torso until she was brought into him entirely, feeling the length of him and his lovely rigid offering.

  Later at the hotel room, Angelo reintroduced her to what it felt like to be truly loved by making love to her throughout the night.

  August, 1968

  It was early one morning, the sun had just risen and Nancy slowly walked into her house from being out all evening. Slowly closing the door behind her, she tried to be quiet not to wake anyone up. She had been visiting this routine nightly for the past couple of weeks until she could figure this thing out and come up with a plan on how she was going to leave her husband and family.

  To her surprise however, on this morning her husband had been waiting up for her in the living room. He was unmoving, unsympathetic and already drunk.

  “You want a divorce?” Stephen callously asked her, bringing a half consumed one liter of J&B up to his lips. He had been sitting patiently for her in his favorite declining arm chair…waiting patiently to blow up at her.

  “Yes,” Nancy quickly declared.

  “Were you with him last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it good?”

  “Oh Stephen, don’t torment yourself,” she said harshly, placing her purse down on a nearby armchair across from him.

  “Who’s tormenting themselves?” He asked coldly, waiving the emptied bottle in the air and then in a circle in front of his chest. “Do you see a man here…sad?” After that he started to chuckle.

  Nancy looked in further and surveyed his appearance. “You’re drunk, I can see that. Go to bed Stephen, we’ll talk about this after you’ve slept it off.”

  “No!” He yelled out, pounding his fist against the arm rest of his chair first and then hurling the bottle of J&B across the area in a fit of rage. “You whore!”

  Nancy swallowed the cruel accusation and declared, “It’s over Stephen.”

  “Nothing’s over till I say it’s over!” He roared back at her standing up to his feet.

  Nancy took a step backwards. “We’re over,” she simply said to him.

  “You’re impure!” He shouted back, pointing his finger in her face.

  “What?” She gave out half-smiling.

  “I want to see you grovel before God!” He demanded, pointing that finger of his to the ground now. “Get down on your hands and knees and beg for His forgiveness! You adulterer! You whore!”

  “What?” Nancy fully laughed now. “Are you insane? I’m not going to beg for anyone’s forgiveness,” she argued, whirling around and trying to plead her case. “I deserve this. I’ve wanted him my entire life; loved him all my life! I’ve waited for this very day for the past twenty-two years!”

  “You’ve wanted this? What about me?” Stephen asked, actually incredulous. “God-dammit! What about me?”

  Nancy cracked again. “What about you? You’ve gotten what you’ve always wanted. You’ve held me in this loveless contract forever!”

  Stephen stepped away from her and ran his hands through his thinning hair. “Held you here? You were free to choose! What the hell kept you here then?”

  Nancy closed her mouth. All this time she was free to choose? For once, she didn’t know what else to say but, “The children.”

  Stephen crossed his arms across his chest, “Just the children?”

  Nancy looked him straight in the eye, “A normal life, for the sake of the children.”

  “Our children,” he corrected her.

  “Our children,” she accepted and then tried to solicit his compassion. “Stephen, everyone who kept us together is deceased. Our fathers, they’re both dead. That shame, it’s gone. It’s completely gone, there’s nothing more to keep us together.”

  “What about the children?” He asked unemotional again.

  “They’re all grown up, Stephen. Paul is a man, I haven’t seen or heard from him for over a year and Suzy, well, she’s got her own life with her own family to worry about now, and Francine, she’s newly married and packed to leave. Our children don’t need us anymore, Stephen, therefore, it’s over. This arrangement is over.”

  Stephen, out of the blue, brought his hands up to his face and began to cry. “Oh Nancy, you’re right,” he whimpered, “…you’re absolutely right.”

  Nancy never saw him cry before and she couldn’t believe it, but she actually felt sorry for him. “Stephen, you need someone in your life…someone to love.”

  He quickly looked up at her, “But I love you Nancy.”

  Nancy closed her eyes and felt a chill run up her spine. Unbelievable…all this time, he had loved her as well? Why hadn’t he ever told her so? “You’ve never once told me!”

  “But I always have…”

  Nancy swallowed her bitterness, “And maybe you did, you do…”

  “I’ve been caring for you since I was ten years old!” He confessed, walking away from her. “Fell in love with you the moment we went for that drive up on Sutter’s Point, do you remember that? Doesn’t that mean anything to you…Our past…Our history together? That has to amount to something.”

  Nancy ran her own fingers through her hair. Unraveling her bun, her hair fell down to her shoulders. “We’ve wasted so many years, Stephen,” she asserted, scratching the back of her head trying to relieve some tension. “Wasted our whole lives living this lie, I’m tired of it,” she confessed, “I’m tired of feeling that guilt that if I ever tried to leave you, I’d be punished because of it. I’ve been so unhappy Stephen, couldn’t you tell? Haven’t you ever noticed? There have been so many unhappy years.”

  “Not all of them were unhappy,” he solicited, trying to grasp at straws.

  Nancy wiped away a tear that abruptly fell down her cheek. “I was unhappy Stephen. I’ve always been unhappy, couldn’t you tell, couldn’t you see? If you’ve always loved me, couldn’t you tell that I’ve always wished I were somewhere else?”

  Philippines, 1968

  Francine exits the airplane. Almost immediately, she could see the heat all around her; sweat, shorts and the irritation. Ian took her to Manila to live. Unlike Hawaii, the Philippines were not yet commercialized. The moment the plane landed at the airport, she knew she was in for an experience. The people were different, the places were startling and the Filipino customs were tough to get used to. She had been living the American dream for so long, everything provided for her by mere words; all she had to do was ask. It was a harbored life she had been living, living on the big island of opportunity.

  To help her understand what Ian got her into, Francine did some research and brought along some books with her and read them on the plane ride over. The moment she landed, she knew now that the name “Philippines” was derived from King Philip II of Spain in the 16th century. The Negritos, a pre-Mongoloid ethnic group that migrated from mainland Asia, settled in the islands about 30,000 years ago. Another ethnic group known as the Malay people, a group of Malayo-Polynesian speaking people originated from the populations of Taiwanese aborigines, and settled in the Philippines approximately 6,000 years ago. In 1521, Portuguese-born Spanish explorer Ferdinand Magellan arrived at Samar and in Leyte and claimed the island for Spain. Colonization began when the Spanish explorer Miguel Lopez de Legazpi arrived from Mexico in 1565 and formed the first European settlements in Cebu. The Spanish military fought off various indigenous revolts and several external colonial challenges, especially from the British, Chinese pirates, Dutch and Portugu
ese. Roman Catholic missionaries converted most of the inhabitants to Christianity and founded schools, universities and hospitals. Philippine culture was a mixture of Eastern and Western but Hispanic influences were derived from that of Spain and Mexico. These influences were most evident in literature, folk music, folk dance, language, food, art and religion. Philippine cuisine was a mixture of Asian and European dishes and one of the most visible Hispanic legacies was the prevalence of Spanish surnames and names among Filipinos. A Spanish name and surname among the majority of Filipinos did not always denote Spanish ancestry. The majority of street names, towns and provinces were in Spanish and the architecture had a major imprint.

 

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