Delia's Gift

  Less than an hour later, Mr. Simon led us out of the courtroom to Tía Isabela’s limousine. Edward hesitated, but his mother came down the steps behind us and sharply ordered us into the car.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, still defiant and unappreciative.

  “To the Bovio estate,” she said.

  “I’ll be right behind you guys,” Mr. Simon told us. “Just do as she says, Edward.”

  “Why are we going there?” he asked.

  “You’ll hear it all on the way,” Mr. Simon replied. “But it ain’t over until it’s over,” he added as a warning. “It might all turn out to be a wild-goose chase, at which point you two will be facing the same judge in the same courtroom under different circumstances. So, for now, I’d advise you to do just as you’re told.”

  Both Edward and I were very confused. We got into the limousine, and Tía Isabela followed.

  “Let’s not talk for a while,” she said the moment she sat across from us. “I need to get my boiling blood cooled. Get us out of here, Mr. Garman,” she ordered her driver, and we were on our way.

  She reached into the cabinet and took out a bottle of white wine, pouring herself a glass. Stone-faced, Edward sat looking at her. I was too terrified to move a muscle. Finally, she was relaxed enough to speak.

  “I can’t blame Delia for actually believing you could get away with such an insane action, but how someone supposedly as intelligent as you went through with this, Edward, I’ll never understand. I’m convinced now that you’ve lost your senses. You might very well need professional help.”

  Edward didn’t reply. Instead, he reached into the cabinet, too, and took out a bottle of scotch, some ice cubes, and some soda to make himself a drink. He offered me a soft drink, which I took. I felt as if the sand in the desert was lining the walls of my throat.

  Edward sat back and smiled at Tía Isabela. “I need professional help? I’m sure you don’t remember, Mother, but when I was about twelve, you and I were having one of those very rare moments when we were by ourselves, enjoying the afternoon, having lunch on the patio. We actually resembled a mother and her child for a little while, and I asked you how you could just pick up and leave your family in Mexico, write them off like that. I don’t think you appreciated my tone of voice, because you became very angry. But eventually, you calmed down, and you said, ‘Sometimes you have to do something for yourself, something everyone else will think is foolish, but something that gives you a sense of self-respect. When you’re older, Edward, you’ll understand.’”

  He leaned forward. “Well, I still don’t understand you, but I’m glad I did what I did to help Delia. I never felt better about myself, Mother. It was the right thing to do, and I have my self-respect.”

  She sipped her wine and shook her head. “I know you don’t get all of this drama and passion from your father,” she said, “so I guess I’ll have to take the blame.”

  “Your admitting blame for anything is a wonder.”

  “Don’t be disrespectful, Edward.”

  He glanced at me and looked out the window for a while and then turned back to her.

  “Why is Mr. Simon following us to the Bovio estate?” he asked.

  “Ray understands lawyers better than any other type of professional,” she replied. “You, me, and Delia don’t carry enough weight.”

  “Well, can’t we know what it’s all about?”

  “Of course, but first there are some questions I want answered and answered honestly.” Before Edward could speak, she added, “They are all for Delia. Nothing would anger me more than going forward here on a foundation of lies and deceit. Do you understand, Delia?”

  “Sí, Tía Isabela.”

  “Good. Sophia confessed to me that she has been getting this joy drug from Fani Cordova for some time now. You knew that, correct?”

  “I did not know that. I told the truth, Tía Isabela. I did not see Fani give Sophia the drug this time, either.”

  “But you knew she had it, correct?”

  “Sí.”

  “How did you know? Did she offer any to you?”

  I looked at Edward. I had never told him so.

  “Sí,” I said. “When we were going out with the two boys and when she wanted me to stay awake for the party. I pretended to take it, but I didn’t. She knew later that I didn’t. I wasn’t very good at pretending.”

  “Was that the first and only time she offered this drug to you, Delia?”

  “Sí, Tía Isabela. The first time.”

  “She didn’t give you this drug when you were at her house for your secret meeting with Edward or during that meeting?” she asked, nodding at him.

  “No, Tía Isabela.”

  “And Edward didn’t have any?”

  “For Christ’s sake, Mother,” Edward protested.

  “Don’t put on that astonished look. I know you haven’t been exactly an angel, Edward, especially the last seven or eight months.”

  “I would never offer Delia—”

  “No, Tía Isabela. He had nothing, and he offered nothing.”

  She nodded. “If you’re lying to me this time, I’ll join the prosecution to have you put away. I promise you both.”

  “What is this all about, Mother?”

  She stared at us a moment and shook her head. “I think for the sake of authenticity, you won’t be told any more for now.”

  “Huh?”

  “It is very important that Ray Bovio believes what we believe, and if he thinks there’s a conspiracy among us, his back will go up, and he’ll put on a defense that, frankly, might be impossible to pierce. The consequences after that would be severe for both of you.”

  She continued, “I know you don’t have much faith in my intelligence, that I have not had your respect as your mother or even as a businesswoman, but you’re going to have to be patient and trusting and believe that I know what I’m doing.”

  “I never said you weren’t intelligent, Mother. You’re just not…not a successful mother.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But I’d like the chance to see if I could still be. Apparently, there was a time, like the time you described, when you loved me. Maybe you could borrow from then and have a little faith.”

  Edward glanced at me and looked away before I could see his eyes water. He said nothing. He sipped his drink and looked out the window. The lights from other cars going in the opposite direction streaked by. A pall of silence fell over all of us. I was sure we were all wondering the same thing. Were we on our way, rushing, to another funeral?

  Anticipating our arrival, the security guard at the Bovio estate opened the gate as soon as we turned in. He stood back and watched us and Mr. Simon drive through and up to the house.

  “Once we enter, neither of you is to say a word unless directly asked a question by Mr. Simon,” Tía Isabela told us. “I want you as meek as mice. Is that clear, Edward?”

  “Yes, Mother,” he said.

  Señor Garman opened the door for us. Tía Isabela got out first. Edward followed, and then I emerged. I looked toward the stables and wondered if Señor Bovio had learned that Gerry Sommer had provided Amigo for me. I hoped not. I didn’t want to see someone else hurt by my actions.

  “Can I ask how you got Ray to permit us to come here tonight, Mother?”

  “I made him a promise,” she said.

  “What promise?”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “Right now, it’s not important.”

  Mr. Simon joined us and nodded at Edward and me. “They understand how I want to conduct this?” he asked Tía Isabela.

  “Yes, they do,” she said firmly. “I didn’t give them any details, however. I thought it might be better if they were part of the discovery.”

  “Very good. Let’s go do it, then,” he said, and we all walked up the stairs to the front entrance.

  Teresa, who had been waiting, opened the door. She avoided looking at me. “Mr. Bovio is in the library,” she said. ?
??I’ll take you to him.”

  As we passed through the grand entryway, I looked up at the dome and said a quick prayer. I then looked up the stairway, thinking about Adan Jr. and hoping he was sleeping comfortably. There was no sign of Mrs. Newell. Señor Bovio was sitting sideways at the head of the long table, looking as if he were about to get up and walk away. I saw that he had a glass of brandy.

  “I don’t want this to take long,” he said when we entered. “It’s been an unnecessarily long enough day as it is.” He focused his angry eyes on me.

  “It shouldn’t take us long,” Mr. Simon said. “Thanks for agreeing to the meeting.”

  Apparently, Señor Bovio had been told who Mr. Simon was. He put his briefcase down on the table and nodded at us to sit as well. Then he opened it and pulled out the document I had signed to accept Señor Bovio’s custody of Adan Jr. He slid it over the table toward Señor Bovio.

  “It’s not necessary to show me that,” Señor Bovio said, glancing down at it but not touching it.

  “Since it’s the centerpiece of our discussion, I thought I should put it on the table,” Mr. Simon said. “If I am right about the chronology here, you had offered and provided what you believed to be excellent medical care for Delia Yebarra during her pregnancy.”

  “There’s no question about that,” Señor Bovio said. “No matter how unappreciated it was,” he added, targeting his gaze at me.

  “And,” Mr. Simon said, ignoring the comment, “you offered her your home for herself and her child after he was born. You offered to provide for her to attend a school for nursing, but at the time, you did not ask to have sole custody of your grandchild.”

  “I don’t need this historic review,” Señor Bovio said, and sipped some of his brandy.

  “I just want us all to agree on the facts, sir.”

  “I agree so far,” Señor Bovio said. “And?”

  “And it wasn’t until Delia suffered a near-miscarriage and had to have the emergency caesarean that you presented her with this document. You learned that there was the presence of a drug popularly known as Ecstasy or X in her blood and threatened to make that an issue if she refused to sign this document. Am I correct?”

  “No decent grandfather would have done less,” Señor Bovio said. “Especially if we consider that he had lost his son and was the sole protector of his son’s child.”

  “No one’s questioning your motives, sir.”

  “Then why are you here?” Señor Bovio fired back at him, “defending these…kidnappers?”

  “Perhaps, sir, you were a bit hasty in your condemnation of Delia, either deliberately or otherwise.”

  “In her heart, she knows that is not so,” Señor Bovio said, glaring at me. “She conspired with a fugitive in Mexico, obstructed justice, and perhaps after taking drugs or drinking too much, carelessly caused my son’s death.”

  “Ray!” Tía Isabela cried.

  “Why aren’t those facts placed on this table along with my document?” he snapped back at her. He turned to Mr. Simon. “Are you here to get me to have the district attorney drop the kidnapping charges? Don’t you consider what I went through when I learned my grandson was stolen? You think I should care about their pain and suffering and forget my own? My son is gone!”

  “No, sir,” Mr. Simon said.

  “Then why did you come here?” he shouted, his face reddening and the veins in his neck straining.

  “Simply to get at the truth, sir,” Mr. Simon replied quietly. “Something I hope you want as much as we do.”

  “The truth,” Señor Bovio repeated disdainfully.

  Mr. Simon looked at Tía Isabela and nodded.

  She rose and went to the library door, then turned back with Teresa right behind her. Apparently, she had been waiting in the hallway just outside the library.

  “What is this?” Señor Bovio demanded.

  “We’ll know in a few minutes, Mr. Bovio,” Mr. Simon said. He looked at Teresa. “Please, have a seat,” he said.

  Teresa glanced at Señor Bovio and then sat. She kept her gaze down.

  “Your full name is Teresa Donald?” Mr. Simon began.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “And you’ve been working for Mr. Bovio for a long time, Teresa?”

  “Nearly thirty-two years,” she replied.

  “That’s dedication,” Mr. Simon said.

  “Teresa is practically a member of my family,” Señor Bovio said. “So?”

  “I’m happy you feel that way about her. Apparently, she feels the same way about you,” Mr. Simon said. “Teresa, I know this is difficult for you. You made that clear to Mrs. Dallas, but you see where it’s all taken us. Please, tell Mr. Bovio what you have told Mrs. Dallas.”

  Teresa looked up at Señor Bovio.

  “What is it, Teresa?” he asked.

  “It’s Mrs. Newell, sir,” she said. “She was the one who put the drug into Delia’s body.”

  It was as if thunder had clapped in the library.

  Señor Bovio stared at her, and then he smiled and shook his head. “No, Teresa. You’re mistaken, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not, sir. I’m sorry. I saw her on a few occasions add some tiny portions to the nutritional drink she prepared for Delia right before she suffered the near-miscarriage.”

  “It was probably one of those nutrients she said Delia needed,” Señor Bovio told her. “You wouldn’t know, Teresa. I’m—”

  “No, sir. Normally, I wouldn’t know, but I thought she was keeping this stuff in an odd place.” She looked at Mr. Simon. “I clean her room as well as Adan Jr.’s, you see. I was making her bed, changing the sheets, when I lifted the mattress a bit, and the packet fell out of the bedsprings. I wouldn’t have noticed it, but I always dust under the bed after I remake it. Naturally, it frightened me to see it hidden like that. I recalled seeing her sprinkle powder from a packet just like it, and as you said, sir, I assumed it was something to do with the special concoction she made for Delia. Who was I to question that?”

  “What did you do with it?” Mr. Simon asked.

  “I was very frightened. I put it back where it was, squeezed in the bedsprings.”

  Señor Bovio just stared at her and then shook his head slightly. “Why didn’t you come to me with this story?” he asked.

  “I thought about that, sir, but you were so…dependent on Mrs. Newell. You thought so highly of her, and I saw how having Adan Jr. here had given you a new lease on life, as they say. I didn’t have the heart to destroy your happiness and…” She paused. “I didn’t think you’d take my word for anything against her.”

  “Why would she do such a thing?” Señor Bovio asked, pulling his head back, still very skeptical.

  I thought Teresa would retreat in the face of Señor Bovio’s determination to discredit her report and keep his faith in Mrs. Newell, but she held her ground and even strengthened it.

  “For one thing, she’s still here, sir. She wouldn’t have been if Delia was looking after her son, now, would she?”

  “That’s—”

  “I’ve seen some other things that bothered me from time to time,” she quickly added, and looked down again as if she were the one who should be ashamed.

  “What other things?” Señor Bovio demanded, pressing his palms against the table so hard I thought he would snap his own wrists. “What other things, Teresa?”

  “There were times I caught her trying on Delia’s maternity clothes.”

  No one spoke. Señor Bovio’s mouth opened slightly.

  “I wouldn’t have thought much about it, but I had heard some stories about her. Even so, I wouldn’t dare be the one to spread new rumors, and I didn’t know how to tell you about such a thing, Mr. Bovio.”

  He shook his head. “This is blatantly ridiculous. Why would you come forward now with this, Teresa?”

  “I can’t say I’m proud of myself for not coming to you sooner, sir, especially after you sent Delia away like that. I know Mrs. Newell was plea
sed, and you looked very pleased as well.”

  She continued, looking to me now, “I never had a child of my own, but I could only imagine what it was like having your baby literally ripped out of your body and then your arms. It got so I couldn’t sleep at night thinking about it, and then, when this happened…well, I can’t say I wasn’t rooting for you, Delia. As soon as I heard you and your cousin were arrested, I went to Mrs. Dallas.”

  She told Señor Bovio, “I was still afraid to go to you, sir. You were so angry now, I didn’t know what you’d do or say. I didn’t want to lose my position here, but it was like swallowing something sour, sir. I couldn’t hold it down anymore. I’m sorry. I truly am.” She said that more to me than to him.

  “This has got to be some sort of misunderstanding,” Señor Bovio insisted.

  “Then you’re telling us you know nothing about this?” Mr. Simon asked.

  I had no idea why or how he could ask Señor Bovio such a thing, but he had his lawyer’s motives and sounded stronger and more like a prosecutor now. I also understood what Tía Isabela had meant when she explained why she wanted a lawyer at the table.

  “What? Giving her drugs? Are you a total idiot? Do you think I would endanger my grandson like that?”

  “I hope not. I don’t imagine most people would believe it, but in a courtroom—”

  “What courtroom?”

  “Well, you can plainly see that these events change things, Mr. Bovio. There was, whether you were aware of it or not, obvious coercion here. This young woman was maneuvered into signing over custody of her child.” He pointed to the document on the table. “Following that injustice, she came here as any mother might and took her baby back, and now she’s about to be charged with kidnapping. If she was coerced into signing over her child, there’s no kidnapping charge. She might have grounds for her own lawsuit, and I’m sure the district attorney would have interest in all of this.”

  Señor Bovio was quiet for a moment. He looked at all of us and then at Teresa before addressing Mr. Simon. “I still don’t believe any of this. Just because you have a maid’s impressions of some ingredient…the girl was just involved in a drug incident in Los Angeles, wasn’t she?” he snapped back, now sounding more like someone grasping at straws.