Delia's Heart

  She smiled. “A mention of Mexico, and you revert to Spanish. How appropriate. Well, then,” she said, rising. “It’s all settled. You’ll make me proud. Edward will stop hovering over you. The rumors will go away. Sophia will behave, and we’ll turn this into a happy, productive family after all.”

  She started out and turned back to me at the door.

  “You and I will spend more time together now, Delia. There are things I can teach you about high society that you might not learn yourself. I didn’t anticipate all of this happening so quickly. I’ll admit that I underestimated you, but I’m going to correct all that. Someday you’ll thank me. Someday,” she added, “you will even respect me.”

  I said nothing.

  She nodded and left. I sat there looking at the floor.

  Why did I feel as if I had just been forced into a bargain with the devil?

  There was another knock at the door. Edward entered.

  “We’re on our way back to L.A., Delia. I think you’re going to be all right now.”

  “You should not have made such an agreement with your mother, Edward.”

  “It’s all right for now. Let’s see if she lives up to her part of the bargain. She knows if she doesn’t, you’ll be on the phone to me immediately, and she knows I’ll be doing my own checking up periodically. I’ll say this for the queen, Delia, when she promises to do something, she does it. In that sense, she is most trustworthy. Often my mother is the harshest critic of herself.

  “She’s right about much of this, anyway. I suppose Jesse and I in our own way have been holding you back. You should have had some boyfriends by now, been dating more.”

  “No,” I said. “It has nothing to do with you.”

  Ignacio’s name and all that had been kept secret were once again about to spill from my lips.

  “It certainly has nothing to do with you,” he replied. “My mother admits that you are an outstanding Latin beauty. I even heard some faint notes of family pride in her voice. Maybe this is what she needs, what will bring her back. I do not hate my mother, Delia. I hate what she has made of herself, but I understand some of it, too. Let’s just give it all a chance. I think Miss Horror Face is steaming in regret right now and realizing she has only hurt herself. Who knows, maybe this will help her, too, although it’s hard to believe anything will.”

  “Edward—”

  He put his finger on my lips.

  “Shh…don’t worry. Maybe Adan Bovio will help you get used to your new car. Anyway, he’s had more experience with cars than I have. Enjoy, Delia. Have some fun. Don’t live every day so seriously, intently. You’ll miss some of the best times of your life. Listen to me. I’m talking as if I were already on social security. I’d better get out of here.”

  He kissed me on the cheek and left before I could say another word. I wanted to run after him, but instead I went to the window and watched him and Jesse get into his car right after Jesse looked up at me and waved. I waved back. Despite all Edward had said and hoped, I felt as if a lifeboat were sailing off in the distance when they drove off the grounds and disappeared behind a turn.

  Almost as if he were watching from somewhere very close by, Adan Bovio called me moments later. “How’s your ankle?” he asked first.

  “It’s much improved.”

  “Good. Maybe you’ll be dancing sooner than you think. I suppose you’ve seen or been told about your picture in the newspaper today?”

  “Yes, my cousin Edward brought it to me,” I said, and Adan was quiet a moment. “He and his friend Jesse have started back to Los Angeles.”

  “Right. Well, if I can, I’d like to swing by in an hour or so just to give you something.”

  “Give me something? What?”

  “It’s a surprise. Nothing big. Not like a car,” he added, and laughed. “I won’t stay long. I know you have work for school.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said.

  “I’ll be in and out. See you soon,” he said, and hung up before I could think of any other reason to keep him from coming. Maybe…maybe I didn’t want to think of one, I thought.

  I brought my tray down and spoke to Señora Rosario and Inez for a few minutes. They were both concerned about my ankle, but I reassured them that I was doing well. They had both seen my picture in the newspaper, too, and they were impressed.

  “I remember the first day you arrived from Mexico,” Señora Rosario said. “You looked so frightened.”

  “You know that I soon had reason to be.”

  “Sí,” she said. “But those days are gone. You are no longer a little girl, Delia. You are a young woman, and remember, vale más una madura que cien verdes. One ripe fruit is worth a hundred green ones.”

  Inez nodded in agreement. I thanked them both and returned to my room to start on my homework. Soon after, Inez came up to tell me Adan Bovio had arrived and was waiting for me in the living room. I looked at Sophia’s closed door as I followed Inez out and downstairs. Unlike Tía Isabela’s confidence in her own power, I had no faith in her threats and punishments. Sophia was a wild thing and would surely wait. Her silence now was deceptive. “Guardate del agua mansa,” I could hear mi abuela Anabela warn. Beware of still waters.

  I had faith only in my own eyes and ears.

  Adan stood as I entered the living room. He wore a beautiful red shirt and white pants with a pair of white boat shoes. He looked even more handsome than he had the night before.

  “Walking without your crutches?”

  “I’m limping, but it’s okay,” I said.

  He handed me a single yellow rose.

  “Gracias.” I smiled at the simplicity of his gift.

  “I was worried about you, about all that had happened at the party. I thought you were somewhat saddened by all of it and did not have much of a good time despite the festivities.”

  “I was fine, Adan. Do not worry.”

  “The picture in the paper was quite exciting. The moment I saw it, I knew I had the perfect gift.”

  “It’s a beautiful rose.”

  “No,” he said, laughing. “That’s just a small token. Here.” He reached down to pick up a small wrapped package I hadn’t seen on the marble coffee table. “For your desk, perhaps.”

  “Qué es?”

  “Open it to see,” he said.

  I tore away the paper and looked at the picture that was in the newspaper. It was cropped so it was only of Adan and me, and it was in a beautiful gold frame. It wasn’t a reproduction made from the paper, either. It was the actual photograph of us.

  “How did you get it?”

  “We know the publisher. I called first thing this morning and then hurried over to a gift shop. I hope I picked out a nice enough frame.”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

  “I think,” he said, “that this will be the first of many pictures of you in newspapers.”

  It frightened me to hear that. “Why?”

  “It just will be,” he said. “Okay, I’m off. I promised not to take up much of your time.”

  He leaned over to kiss me on my cheek just as mi tía Isabela stepped into the living room.

  “Oh, Mrs. Dallas. How are you?”

  She looked from him to me and smiled. “Very well, thank you, Adan. I gather you two had a nice time last night.”

  “It was quite a bash.”

  “Yes, well, I would have gone myself, but I had a commitment I couldn’t change. What do you have in your hands, Delia?”

  “Oh, that’s just a little something I thought she might enjoy having,” Adan said quickly.

  I showed it to her, and she nodded and smiled. “Very thoughtful, Adan. It’s a particularly good picture of you both as well.” She handed it back to me. “And I see you’ve brought her a beautiful rose as well.”

  “Yes. My father always brought my mother a single rose. He said it meant more because it was an individual and not a clump.”

  Tía Isabela laughed. “How sweet. Would you like to stay for
lunch?”

  “Oh, no, I promised Delia I would not interfere with her schoolwork.”

  “I’m sure she has to stop to eat lunch. We can have a nice lunch on the patio. I was just heading to the kitchen to have Inez and Mrs. Rosario prepare us all a refreshing shrimp salad. Would that be good?”

  “Well…” He looked at me. “Is that okay with you, Delia?”

  “Delia?” Tía Isabela followed when I hesitated.

  “Yes, of course,” I said. “I’ll just take the picture up to my room.”

  “Oh, I can get Inez to do that for you. Why don’t you show Adan to the patio. As soon as Inez puts the picture in your room, I’ll have her bring out some iced tea.”

  She took the picture from me before I could object, smiled, and went to the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any problems,” Adan said.

  “No, it’s all right. This way,” I said, taking him to the French doors and out to the patio that overlooked the pool. The gardeners had cut the grass yesterday, and the aroma of it still sweetened the air. I showed him to a table and put my rose down.

  “This is a beautiful property,” Adan said. “I remember your uncle. He was a very distinguished gentleman, always well groomed, elegantly dressed. He was the sort of man who is never surprised, if you know what I mean. My mother called him Palm Springs’ own Cary Grant. You know who Cary Grant was?”

  “Yes. I have seen him on television. Once, even on our television in Mexico—when it worked, that is.” I laughed. “We didn’t always have electricity.”

  “I can’t imagine the world you were in once.”

  “I can,” I said. I looked out at the property. “Tenía más.”

  “What? Doesn’t that mean you had more then?”

  “Sí, Adan. It does,” I said, smiling.

  “But how could you have had more than this?” he asked, sweeping the scene before us with his hand.

  “I had my parents and my grandmother,” I said. “Cuando usted está pobre, la familia significa más. When you are poor, family means more.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  We were both quiet. Inez came out with a tray carrying a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. She also put placemats on the patio table. I caught her looking at Adan and then smiling at me as she raised her eyebrows. Everyone was imagining too much, letting their fantasies run away with them, I thought, but I had no idea how to change their thinking, not with Tía Isabela behaving like a matchmaker.

  She joined us, and soon after, Inez brought out the shrimp salad and bread. Tía Isabela got into a conversation with Adan about his father, the campaign, their home, or I should say homes. I learned Señor Bovio owned a condo in Los Angeles and a house in Big Bear, the mountains not far away. I sat and listened to them reminiscing about the grand social events they had both attended in the past and for the first time wondered how Tía Isabela had dealt with all of this the first time she had been shown the great wealth and glamour. She came from the same poor world from which I had come. There were things yet to learn from her, things she would rather teach me now than teach her own daughter.

  I was afraid to ask about Sophia. Was she still up in her room pouting? Had she been invited to join us for the lunch? Did she even know Adan was here?

  Adan and Tía Isabela had coffee after our lunch, and then I walked him out to his car. We stopped to look at my yet-to-drive new sports car.

  “It’s a beauty,” Adan said. “Since your foot isn’t as bad as feared, do you think you would have time one day this week for me to help you get used to your car? I could come by after work. Since I’m the boss these days, I can make my own hours and come whenever you have the free time.”

  He walked around the car and looked at it with more desire than he was looking at me, I thought, and laughed.

  “What?”

  “You do love cars, Adan.”

  “I admit, they are my weakness.” He smiled. “Some weaknesses aren’t terrible to have. What do you say? We can’t leave this beauty languishing.”

  “Call me tomorrow.”

  “I will. I hope you’re not angry at my taking more of your time today.”

  “No. As mi tía Isabela said, I had to have lunch, too. Perhaps not as elaborate. I usually make my own lunch.”

  “I bet.”

  He kissed me on the cheek, then paused and kissed me on the lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening,” he whispered.

  “Thank you for the gift,” I told him. He got into his car and looked out at me through the open window.

  “That picture was a gift for both of us. I had two copies made, and mine is on my night table next to my bed. I’ll be looking at you when I wake up every morning.”

  That idea sent a chill down my spine. Everything between us was moving too quickly. It was like trying to hold back a flood of emotions with a dam made of paper. I said nothing. He smiled and drove off. When I turned to go back into the house, I saw Sophia. She was in my room, looking down at me from my window. The moment I looked up at her, the curtain closed, and she was gone as quickly as a streak of lightning.

  Despite Tía Isabela’s assurances, I had no doubt that Sophia was also as dangerous even now. I hurried inside and up to my room, expecting to see some damage. I even pulled back the blanket on my bed to see if she had put something terrible in it, such as tacks or even a snake. When it came to Sophia, there were no limits on what terrible thing to imagine.

  I found nothing, but it was obvious she must have seen the photograph in the gold frame. She kept track of everything I had and was given.

  Tía Isabela had told Inez exactly where to put it.

  Mine, too, was on the night table next to the bed.

  Adan would be the first face I would see when I woke up.

  I dared not put a picture of Ignacio anywhere except in the front window of my memory.

  And for the moment, Adan’s handsome face was pushing Ignacio’s into the shadows claimed by the third death.

  10

  Beware of Thorns

  At dinner that evening, I decided Sophia had lost a battle but not the war. When she finally came out of her room, she was neatly dressed, with no rings in her nose or anything else that usually annoyed and disturbed Tía Isabela. Her hair was brushed and pinned very neatly, and she wore one of her prettier blouse-and-skirt combinations. She wasn’t overly made up. In fact, she wore no lipstick, black, which Tía Isabela especially hated, overly bright red or otherwise.

  At the table, she was Little Miss Politeness, performing perfect dinner etiquette and saying nothing that could disturb her mother. She was even polite to me, passing dishes and thanking me for whatever I passed to her, but I didn’t for one moment believe in her performance. It would take more than being grounded on the weekends for a month and threats of greater punishments to rehabilitate Sophia Dallas. If she really did turn over a new leaf, it would be a leaf with new thorns as well, the only change being that they might be more difficult to see.

  Nevertheless, she began the dinner by reciting a speech she had surely read in a book or gotten over the phone from a friend.

  “I’m sorry about my behavior. I know I have no justification for it. My excuse is only that I have been miserable myself. I’m disappointed in my failure to lose weight, and I’ve been a little bitch, especially to you, Delia. I admit that I have been jealous and done things I shouldn’t have done. Some of my so-called good friends have instigated a lot, too. I’ll try to be a better cousin.”

  I looked at Tía Isabela, expecting her usual skeptical expression. Surely, I thought, she knew Sophia was not sincere, but to my surprise, she pretended to believe and accept her apology.

  “I’m happy to hear you say those things, Sophia. I hope that’s all true.”

  “It is.”

  “Good. Let’s see how it goes,” she added, holding up the promise of a reprieve.

  “Do you think I can get some help with that math tonight?” Sophia
asked me, with one eye on her mother. “I didn’t really pay enough attention in class, and as usual, it all looks like gibberish to me.”

  “Yes, I’ll help you with it,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she said. She flashed another smile at her mother.

  Am I in the middle of some play? I wondered. Do they lie so much to each other that they have learned to accept and to live on them?

  “Mother,” Sophia sang, “can Delia and I go to school in her car tomorrow?”

  “Oh, I need to practice with it first,” I said quickly. “And I should give my ankle another day or so.”

  “Yes, you should,” Sophia agreed. “You know, Mother, it is a very complex automobile. You should hire someone to teach her about the car.”

  “I think she has a very good teacher already,” Tía Isabela said. That surprised me as much as it did Sophia. How did she know what Adan had offered to do?

  “Who?” Sophia asked.

  Tía Isabela smiled at me and nodded to urge me to tell her.

  “Adan asked to do it,” I admitted. “He’ll come by one day this week.”

  For a moment, Sophia lost her deceptive sweet face but quickly brought it back.

  “That’s a good idea. He owns a lot of sports cars, I hear. Doesn’t he?” she asked me.

  “I do not know how many cars he owns or what kind of cars they are.”

  “I’m sure you will soon,” she muttered. It fell out of her mouth the way water or something she had gulped too much might dribble. She dropped her gaze quickly to her food and began eating again. I looked at Tía Isabela.

  She wore an odd expression. She looked troubled more than angry. Was she worried that somehow, some way, Sophia would turn Adan against me?

  The remainder of our dinner was passed in the all-too-familiar silence. Afterward, Sophia came to my room with her math book and tried to be attentive as I explained the homework. I could see talking about the homework and making her do the problems herself was like forcing her to take some bitter herb to cure a headache or a stomachache. She listened and successfully completed the problems, but she hated every moment of it.

  “How can you care about any of this?” she asked, gazing at the textbook pages with disgust.