Magnet & Steele

MAGNET & STEELE

Written by Trisha Fuentes

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2009 Trisha
Fuentes

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PRESENT DAY

This is my love story, my mother’s
and mine…This is where it begins.

I’ll tell you the story how my
mother once told it to me. Let’s see, how does she begin it again?
Oh yes…it was springtime. The sun was about to set on the hills
covered in Daffodils. Its rays leave a brilliant view of an
orange-glow over a golden blanket hovering over the
horizon.

Growing up with so much beauty
around me led me to believe that life had been perfect. Kind of too
theatrical, I know, but that’s how I remember it and then she
continues by saying…and above a sweeping view of opulent
neighborhoods stood a banner that displayed “THE DAFFODIL
FESTIVAL”. . .

1945, New Canaan,
Connecticut

Inside the wealthy country club,
crystal chandeliers, fire light and candles illuminate the
dwelling. Just a year before, most of the young men in town had
been drafted by the army and the troops which landed in Anzio, just
south of Naples attempted to out-flank the Germans, but on this
night they were on R&R. It was just a few days before they were
being shipped off to Iwo Jima and the men enjoyed the momentous
evening listening to the orchestra playing music of the era: Glenn
Miller, Rosemary Clooney, Count Basie and Artie Shaw.

Everyone was in high spirits, young
and old alike celebrated not only the crowning of the Daffodil
Queen, but the victory of D-Day and its results. The past few
months were a tense time and a lot of folks were afraid to leave
their homes; some even built underground shelters in fear of
another attack on the United States. Germany had just surrendered
in May and the crucial ceremony had taken place at Eisenhower’s
headquarters at Reims, France and in August, the United States had
dropped the atomic bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, killing
over 70,000, three days later a second bomb destroyed Nagasaki. But
on the 2nd of September, the Japanese formally surrendered aboard
the Battleship Missouri and the two attacks by the atomic bombs
were convincing enough to prove to the Japanese that further
resistance was useless.

Nancy Coursen has just turned
eighteen and with Rita Hayworth strawberry blonde locks, the
luminous face of Ava Gardner and the green eyes of Maureen O’Hara,
she was oftentimes gawked at (and not only by men but with women
alike) would stop in their tracks to stare at her unique
beauty.

Nancy has just won “Daffodil Queen”
and was receiving her crown from the reigning monarch, another
stunning teenager, when she spotted Stephen Steele, also eighteen
in the corner of her eye. She doesn’t want to speak to him and
pretended she doesn’t notice him as he drew near to the podium
where she currently stood.

Stephen Steele was obnoxious and
self-absorbed, being class president, honor student and ivy-league;
he carried a legacy reminiscent of a neon sign. He was Nancy’s date
for the evening and dressed to the nines in a flashy white tuxedo.
Always a man who tried too hard, he placed one hand in the small of
Nancy’s back while the other hand saluted a thumb up to friends who
were envious. Nancy and Stephen were the hot topic of the main
event and the primary focus of the evening.

The crowd cheered Nancy on and the
young girls covet her triumph, dreaming of the day of when they too
can become Daffodil Queen just like their beautiful icon. Nancy
tried to make her way down the stage and through the crowd still
clapping her victory when she sensed Stephen Steele still right
beside her. He was a thorn in her side as she tried to walk away
from him on purpose.

My mother was beautiful, exquisite
and the town adored her, but on the other hand, my father had a
heritage to live up to, and at times he was thoughtless—an
insensitive man. My mother and father were not meant for each
other, their arranged marriage was doomed from the very beginning;
there was really only one true love for my mother…

The stage was set for something
magical to happen and over ‘I’ll be Seeing You’ being sung by Jo
Stafford; Nancy was suddenly approached by an Italian waiter
carrying a tray of champagne.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked,
cautiously.

Nancy was paralyzed by the Italian
waiter’s gaze. It was an intense encounter and Stephen rudely
jerked her body away after noticing her sole concentration on the
hired help.

“Let’s go,” Stephen said to her,
clearly staking his claim.

Nancy’s head spun around; she
doesn’t want to leave the moment as the Italian waiter continued to
watch her as she glided out onto the dance floor still staring at
only him. She had never seen anyone quite like him before and her
breath quickened; the waiter was heavenly mysterious like Tyrone
Power and devilishly handsome like Errol Flynn, and while dancing
with her so-so partner, Nancy couldn’t help but fall in love with
the thrilling stranger at first sight.

*****

The Coursen family lived in a
magnificent estate. A one hundred-year-old three-story Queen Anne
and maintained to its natural beauty and ambiance. A family home
that had been handed down through generations, the Queen Anne was
lavishly decorated with steep pitched roofs and irregular
embellishments.

Family dinners were oftentimes full
of monotonous conversation and unexciting details of the war, but
on this night, the Steele family was over for dinner and the
routine was about to get heated…

Nancy was usually cool as a
cucumber, but on this night she was jittering like a freezing dog.
She had been thinking too much about the Italian waiter she met at
the Daffodil Festival the other night and was so overwhelmed
because of it! She didn’t even know who he was or even his name!
The man was an absolute Hunk! How was she ever going to stop
day-dreaming about him?

In the middle of her musing, Nancy
suddenly dropped her peach cobbler upside down onto her mother’s
expensive white linen table cloth in the middle of the dessert
being passed around. Looking at everyone embarrassed, she covered
her mouth up in disbelief.

“Heck little lady—why so nervous?”
Arthur Steele, Stephen’s father, quipped. He was a joker but at
someone else’s expense.

“Nancy, watch what you’re doing,”
Philip Coursen, Nancy’s father, instructed.

“Heck, Daffodil Queen is a shoo-in
for Miss Connecticut!” Arthur said next. “The last three winners
have all won Daffodil Queen and Nancy’s a looker, smart with good
grades. Heck, she could even win Miss America, wouldn’t that be
something son?”

Stephen nodded his head and
continued to watch Nancy as she tried to wipe the peach filling off
from the table.

Abigail Coursen, Nancy’s mother, was
a timid housewife and reached over to take the napkin away from
Nancy’s hand. “Don’t worry about it dear.”

Nancy stiffened up and then stole
her mother’s napkin away to cover the stain when she wasn’t
looking.

“Abigail, dinner was mighty fine as
usual, wasn’t it Stephen?” Arthur asked his son who was still
fixated on the beauty.

“Yeah dad, terrific,” Stephen just
relayed, eyeing Nancy smoothing out the linen with her fingertips
still trying to cover up the bright orange stain.

Nancy reached over for her glass of
water and took a sip. Rolling her eyes, she noticed her adolescent
guest still watching her every move.

Arthur shook his head at his son’s
fascination, “Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah, Arty?”

“We’ve been friends how
long?”

“About twenty years.”

“And how long have we been having
dinner together?”

“Just as long.”

“And when did we decide that our
kids would end up married someday?”

Philip eyed Abigail and locked eyes
with hers. “When they were born,” he gravely said, grabbing her
hand and squeezing it tight.

Arthur regarded his good friend and
the two men both eye their children simultaneously.

“These two, huh…Can you believe
these two getting married?”

Nancy’s jaw practically fell out of
its socket. Oh no, not again! Standing up from the table, she let
out, “For the last time, no!”

Marcia Steele spoke up next. With
two huge diamonds on both her ring fingers, Stephen’s socialite
mother with a Georgian accent began waving them about to show her
anger. “Phil, perhaps this child forgets who we are,” she said with
her nose up in the air and her hands even higher, “What the Steele
name brings to the community and to the history of this very state.
An engagement with a Steele is an honor!”

“Oh Marcia,” Abigail chimed in,
“Forgive my little girl, she meant no harm really. Of course she
knows who your family is, what it means to be a Steele. Of course
she knows.”

Marcia grabbed Nancy’s arm as she
was about to scamper away. With daggers in her eyes, she dug her
fingernails into Nancy’s skin with her intense resentment. “Don’t
ever forget sweetheart that my husband is a direct descendant from
John Steele who founded Hartford. You wouldn’t be where you are
without Arthur.”

Nancy eyed her father huffing and
puffing across the table.

“Of course she knows that Marcia,”
Abigail tried to explain in defense of her daughter, “Of course she
knows.”

Nancy yanked her arm away from Mrs.
Steele’s death grip and hiked around to the head of the table. “I
couldn’t care less!” She yelled out finally.

“Nancy, you’re outta line!” Philip
shouted back at her. “Apologize to Arty and Marcia
immediately.”

Nancy doesn’t express her
forgiveness and darted towards the door and headed out of it.
Stephen scooted back his chair and headed for the door himself but
Philip beat him to it.

“Stay here son; this is a father’s
duty,” he proclaimed, holding Stephen’s body back.

Inside the foyer Philip found Nancy
about to exit; pulling her backwards, he questioned, “Where are you
going?”

Nancy jerked her arm away from her
father’s tight grip. “Daddy, I’m not some kind of trophy for you to
keep passing around, I have feelings too you know!”

“You’ll do what I say and that’s an
order!” Philip demanded, breathing authority into Nancy’s face.
“I’m not going to let your feelings stand in the way of what’s
necessary…Our plan for you.”

Nancy crossed her arms across her
chest, she was so upset and watched her father say nothing else and
left her alone with her continued frustration and pounding
heartache.

Back in the dining room, Philip
found his chair once more and took out his pipe from within his
dinner jacket pocket. “She’ll come around,” he said, while packing
tobacco into his pipe, “So; we’ll see Stephen here, say
Saturday…around seven for dinner and then afterwards, a
movie?”