Delia's Heart

  “Home before me? That must have been a quickie,” she said, starting up. “Maybe Adan’s not as good as his reputation.”

  I didn’t respond, but I didn’t turn my back on her, either. The way I glared down at her made her hesitate. Her eyes went from me to the stairway and then to her imagination.

  “You’d better not try anything,” she said.

  I enjoyed seeing the fear in her face. She climbed the stairs slowly, staying as far to my left as she could, and when I brought a crutch down a little, she charged up the steps ahead of me. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “You should go back to Mexico,” she cried when she reached the top. “Back where you belong!”

  “I should,” I muttered after her, but she was already down the hallway to her room.

  The commotion was enough to alert Edward and Jesse, who came out of Edward’s bedroom and rushed to help me finish going up the stairway.

  “I’m fine,” I said, but they practically carried me up.

  “We want to hear all about the party,” Edward said. “You want to come into my room for a while?”

  “I’m tired, Edward. Can we talk in the morning before you return to Los Angeles?”

  “Sure. You just stay in bed,” Jesse said. “We’ll bring you your breakfast.”

  “No. I’ll get up,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. I couldn’t help but be sensitive to everything they said or did for me. I knew Sophia would make something of it and give the ugly stories more credibility.

  Edward narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong, Delia?”

  “Was there a problem with Adan Bovio?” Jesse asked quickly.

  “No, he was very nice, Jesse. I am going to dinner with him next Friday, to his friend’s new restaurant.”

  “Oh,” Edward said, nodding.

  “It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I am just very tired.”

  “Sure. Sleep well,” he said.

  They watched me go to my bedroom. I smiled back at them and went in, closing the door softly behind me.

  Now I was keeping another secret from them, I thought sadly, from the two people who had been the most kind and loving toward me. Would they hate me more after hearing the truth or for not hearing it? And how would they behave toward me once they knew of the nasty rumors Sophia and Christian were spreading?

  It seemed that no matter what direction I took or what decisions I made, I was always to be caught in this maze of confusion and danger. My people from Mexico were coming here for protection, security, education, and health, but all I could see was a storm of trouble brewing.

  Even in my dreams, the dark clouds were sliding in my direction. The winds blew harder, stronger, and the grasp I had on my grandmother’s hand weakened.

  I fell through a nightmare into the morning sunlight, terrified at where the hands of the clock were taking me.

  9

  An Uneasy Deal

  Despite my telling Edward and Jesse not to pamper me with breakfast in bed, there was a knock at my door in the morning. I had not realized how late I had slept. For a moment, the bright sunlight streaming through my windows confused me, but I called out, “Yes?”

  They entered pretending to be waiters, with small towels over their arms, one carrying the tray of food, the other carrying coffee and a local newspaper.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up. “I told you not to bring me breakfast.”

  Jesse put the tray down, fixed the bed table for me over my lap, and put the tray on it. Edward held up the local paper and smiled.

  “That was before we realized how important you have become.”

  “What?”

  “You made the social pages,” he said. “And in a big way, too.”

  “Me?”

  He unfolded the paper to show me a picture of Fani, Adan, and myself at Danielle Johnson’s party. Fani was looking at me, but Adan and I were looking toward the camera. Someone had given the photographer my name. Next to it was written, “escorted by Adan Bovio, son of U.S. senatorial candidate Ray Bovio.” Fani wasn’t even mentioned.

  “You didn’t know that picture was taken?” Jesse asked.

  “There were so many lights going off…Danielle’s personal photographer, but no,” I said, amazed. “I did not know someone was working for the newspaper.”

  “Delia Yebarra storms into the Palm Springs social scene,” Edward said, drawing a headline in the air and laughing. He leaned over to whisper because the door was open. “Seen at the party with the son of the U.S. Senate candidate. This will surely impress my mother. The social pages are the pages of her Bible.”

  “Sophia will be pouting,” Jesse said. “She didn’t make the social pages.”

  They both laughed.

  I looked at the breakfast, at them, and at the newspaper.

  “It’s okay to be a little famous,” Edward said, reading the worried expression on my face.

  He didn’t understand, but the first thought that had come to my mind after seeing my picture in the paper was that Ignacio’s father and mother might see it as well. What would they think of me and my devotion to Ignacio? Could such a picture find its way to Ignacio?

  “From what’s written there, it sounds like an amazing birthday party,” Jesse said. “Magicians, cancan girls, fireworks! What didn’t they have?”

  “Homemade food,” I said, “and family.”

  They both stared at me with nearly identical smiles.

  “You still miss Mexico quite a bit, don’t you?” Edward asked.

  “Sí. Tanto.”

  “What exactly do you miss so much, Delia?” Jesse asked.

  I smiled, remembering. “I miss the music in the square, the comfort I could find in the church, my grandmother’s friends talking softly in the evening, the sight of my father sitting quietly with my mother and talking softly about their day or their own dreams. I miss walking in the streets and smelling the aromas of homemade chile, rice and beans, burritos, fajitas, tortillas, the laughter of the little children, running through our poor streets but none of them thinking about their poverty. I miss the honesty.”

  I stopped, realizing how I had gone on and that they were both staring at me in amazement.

  Edward smiled. “You know, I think we should make a definite decision right now,” he said, nodding. “We’re going to go to Mexico during the school break, drive to your village, which was where my grandmother and grandfather lived, too. We’ll start planning seriously.”

  “Good idea,” Jesse said. “I’ll work out the arrangements and the route.”

  The idea was still as exciting as ever, but I couldn’t help but think what such a trip taken by the three of us would do for the nasty rumors once word of it got out. It would be like fertilizing an ugly weed.

  “Doesn’t that sound good to you anymore, Delia?” Edward asked when I didn’t respond.

  “Of course, sí.”

  “Then why this look on your face, the expression of someone who just lost her best friend or something?”

  I took a deep breath and shifted myself in the bed so I could move the breakfast aside for a few moments. “Will you promise not to go wild and angry and do something terrible if I tell you something?”

  “No,” Edward said.

  “Then I won’t tell you.”

  “Whatever it is, we’re going to find out eventually, anyway, Delia. If something is so bad that you need me to make such a promise, it must be that everyone around here knows about it except Jesse and myself. Okay,” he said when I didn’t speak. “We’ll take deep breaths and not go flying off the handle. You know what that means?”

  I nodded. He was probably right. These stories would eventually find their way to his and Jesse’s ears.

  “Well?”

  “Your sister is spreading stories about us. She and Christian tossed them about like grass seed last night at the party, and before we left, everyone was whispering, and the three of us were covered in their slander.”

  “W
hat kind of stories?” Jesse asked.

  “You don’t have to answer,” Edward told me. He turned to Jesse. “Sophia’s made innuendos before, Jess. It’s not hard to imagine how she embellished them.” He turned back to me. “And people believe her? How can anyone take what Sophia says seriously?”

  I shrugged. “People now know what you have bought me and how much you have done for me. She and Christian made sure of that. Tongues were wagging.”

  “That doesn’t automatically mean we’re sleeping with you.”

  “No, but my grandmother used to say, ‘La envidia es la madre del chisme.’ Envy is the mother of gossip.”

  “And we know if Sophia is anything, she is envious,” Jesse said.

  “Many of the girls were envious,” I told them. “As hard as it might be to believe, I think even Fani envied me.”

  They were both quiet a moment. I was sure their imaginations were flooded with distasteful images. Despite what Edward predicted, I hated being the bearer of such news.

  “I am sorry, Edward.”

  “You’re sorry? You have no reason to be sorry. Damn. I’ll fix her good for this,” Edward swore. “Don’t you worry about us, Delia. This won’t change a thing.”

  “What are you going to do, Edward? You said you wouldn’t fly off the handle.”

  “I won’t, but I think it’s time my mother and I had a real heart-to-heart about Sophia and all this,” he said. “We must bring it to a head and end it one way or the other. Obviously, this can’t go on. Jesse and I have another life elsewhere and will survive, but you have to remain here and wallow in this muck.”

  Jesse nodded and then smiled at me. “You know, Delia, ironically, your dating Adan Bovio will be the fastest way to put out this fire.”

  “That’s no reason for her to date someone,” Edward snapped at him. “Especially Adan Bovio.”

  Jesse shrugged. “If she likes him and wants to date him, it won’t do any harm. That’s all I meant. Of course, you should do only what you want to do, Delia, but it can’t hurt if you like him.”

  Suddenly, I felt even more trapped. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them the final secret, and maybe I would have done so if it were not for Sophia’s standing in the doorway and gleefully smiling in at us.

  “I wonder why you don’t bring up my breakfast, Edward,” she said, “and talk to me while I’m still in my flimsy nightgown.”

  The moment she said it, I brought the blanket up over my breasts. I could feel Edward’s rage. The air in the room seemed to cook in the fire from his eyes.

  Jesse stepped in front of him as he started toward her. “Your mother,” Jesse reminded him. “Go speak to your mother. That’s the sensible solution, Edward. Nothing else.”

  “Enjoy your breakfast and whatever else you do,” Sophia said, and walked away.

  I looked at the food. Just the thought of it made my throat tighten along with my stomach.

  “C’mon,” Jesse urged. “Go do what you have to do. We have to get back to L.A., too. You know what work we have yet.”

  Edward took a deep breath to put out the fire in his heart. “All right. Get our stuff together. I’ll go pay my mother a visit. She doesn’t come out of her bedroom on Sundays until midday. You don’t have to wonder where Sophia gets her habits.” He squeezed my hand gently to reassure me and started out.

  “Wait,” Jesse called after him. He handed him the paper. “Make sure she sees the newspaper first. It’s good psychology.”

  Edward took it and smiled. “Right. When she hears how darling Sophia is dirtying our reputations in light of this, she’ll be even angrier. Maybe she’ll take away her breathing privileges,” he said, and left.

  “Breathing privileges? What does that mean?”

  Jesse laughed. “He’s exaggerating…but not by much,” he said. “Eat something, Delia. It’s going to be all right. Think about our trip to Mexico, and forget Sophia for a while.”

  He left to get ready for their trip back to Los Angeles, and I did begin to eat some toast and jam. I thought about our trip to Mexico, too, and how wonderful it could be, especially for Ignacio and me. I would need to get the details to Ignacio as soon as Edward and Jesse planned them. Of course, I had to do all of that without his father knowing. He’d be worried that I would expose Ignacio to the police.

  When I got out of bed, I realized my ankle was much improved. I did not need to use the crutches, but I was careful not to put too much pressure on that foot. After I was dressed, I picked up the tray to take downstairs but paused when I heard someone running in the hallway and then Sophia’s bedroom door slam shut. I held my breath in anticipation of more trouble.

  Almost immediately, there were footsteps. I was expecting Edward, but when the door opened, it was mi tía Isabela standing there in her scarlet bathrobe, her hair down around her shoulders. I had rarely seen her without any makeup at all. She looked as if she had aged overnight. There were dark rings around her eyes, and her face was pale, almost sickly.

  “With all the spotlights apparently being turned on this family, I’ve decided it’s time you and I have a real talk, Delia. I have put up with a great deal for Edward’s sake as much as for yours, but these petty jealousies and stupid blunders are beginning to take a toll on my health and happiness, and I won’t stand for it.”

  “I have done nothing to bring shame to this house, Tía Isabela.”

  “Sometimes,” she said, moving to a chair by the dresser, “you don’t have to invite trouble. It invites itself.” She sat. “I didn’t think Sophia was this self-destructive, but obviously she is socially suicidal. She certainly isn’t worried about my reputation and happiness. I have forbidden her to go anywhere on weekends for the next month, but punishing her for fanning the flames of these disgusting rumors is not going to be enough. Sit,” she ordered.

  I backed up and sat on the bed.

  For a moment, she stared at me and then looked away. “You’re much prettier than your mother and I were at your age,” she said.

  Any compliment from her was unexpected and left me speechless.

  “It’s proper to thank someone when he or she gives you a compliment, Delia.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded to herself, confirming a thought. “We have some work yet to be done to build your social graces, but I’m not surprised to see that the social-pages photographer took your picture at the party.”

  “It was probably because of Adan or Fani,” I said quickly.

  “You’re more prominent in the picture, and they don’t even mention Fani. Believe me, that’s not an accident. Escort of Adan Bovio, son of a U.S. senatorial candidate,” she recited. “So, do you like Adan Bovio?”

  “He was very pleasant to be with,” I said. “Courteous. He’s asked me to go to dinner with him next Friday. To a friend’s new restaurant,” I added, “so I agreed.”

  “Good,” she said quickly. “Nothing…nothing,” she repeated with more emphasis and authority and leaning toward me, “will end these stupid stories faster than you having a relationship with someone like Adan Bovio.”

  Jesse had just suggested the same thing, I thought, but it did not seem to me to be the honest thing to do, and besides, there was Ignacio wearing that face of heartfelt sadness back in the Mexican bus station. Time had not made it any less vivid or painful to recall.

  “I do not say it is a relationship, Tía Isabela.”

  “Don’t act the innocent again with me, Delia. If you like him and you see him often, it will be a relationship. Let’s just say I’d be very pleased if it is.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I have asked Edward and his sidekick to give you the breathing space you need to have normal relationships with members of the opposite sex. In light of his buying you this expensive automobile and that dress, among other things, he finally understands how he is not helping to correct the situation. I think this has been a wake-up call for us all. He has promised not to come home for at l
east a month, if not more.

  “In exchange,” she added before I could protest, “I have agreed to be more of an aunt, to provide you with whatever wardrobe you require, to introduce you to more well-to-do people and”—she paused and looked back at the door—“to protect you from anything more Sophia might do or attempt to do to harm you in any way. If I should just hear that she said anything more on this subject…” She pulled herself up. “I promised Edward I would seriously consider sending her away to another private school, far enough away so she couldn’t hurt anyone but herself. Edward was satisfied.”

  “I do not want to chase Edward away, Tía Isabela.”

  “You’re not chasing him away. He’s simply giving you the breathing room you need to develop normal relationships with young men, especially young men of the caliber of an Adan Bovio, Delia. As I said, I would be pleased to see that relationship blossom.”

  “But—”

  “I can’t imagine my daughter mature enough to develop such a relationship,” she said sadly.

  “I have no such relationship,” I protested. “I have only attended a party with Adan and agreed to go to a dinner. That might be all we do together,” I added, again thinking of Ignacio.

  “I hope you’re not so cavalier as to toss away someone like Adan Bovio before anything could blossom, Delia.” She smiled. “I didn’t when I was your age, and I am beginning to think you are more like me than you are like your mother, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.”

  I started to shake my head. “I am not cavalier, but—”

  Her smile flew off her face so quickly I stopped.

  “Edward has asked permission to take you on some stupid Mexican vacation during your holiday. It appears to be something you all want very much. I told him I would agree only if my terms are followed. I am still your legal guardian and would forbid it otherwise, understood?”

  What was she saying? What were her terms? That I develop a romance with Adan Bovio?

  “Do you want such a trip, or don’t you?”

  “Sí,” I said. It was my best hope to see Ignacio this year.