Delia's Heart Page 5

  It would be like him to find a way to blame me, I thought.

  “I do not mean to be disrespectful of your invitation,” I said.

  He laughed. “I’m not your teacher or your father, Delia. I’m not worried about respect.”

  “But you should worry about that,” I countered quickly. “We must first respect each other. We must always respect each other’s feelings.”

  He was quiet a moment, and then he said, “Maybe you are cut out to be a nun.”

  “It is not a bad thing to be.”

  “Hey, it’s nun thing to me,” he said, laughing. “Let me know if you have a change of heart,” he added, and said good-bye.

  I suspected that, as usual, Sophia had kept one ear out for the sound of my phone ringing. Almost the moment I hung up, she was in my room.

  “So?” she asked. “Where’s he taking you Friday night? If he told you he’s taking you to a drive-in, that’s bull. There’s no drive-in. He just means he’s taking you parking and pretending you’re watching a movie. That’s his big joke he pulls on innocent, stupid girls.”

  “Did he pull it on you?” I asked her quickly.

  She started to say yes and then realized and nearly spit out her answer. “I’m not stupid. Well, what did he say?”

  “He asked me if I had changed my mind.”

  “Changed your mind? What does that mean?”

  “I had already told him no,” I said.

  She was obviously quite taken aback. For a moment, she couldn’t think of anything clever or mean to say. “Why?”

  “I listened to what you said,” I told her. “How he flits about ruining girls. I want nothing to do with such a boy.”

  She stared for a moment, smiled, and then grew serious, actually looking to the doorway as if someone could overhear our conversation. “Don’t you dare tell my mother I said those things and that was why you turned him down,” she warned.

  “Why not? You were only trying to protect me.”

  “My mother won’t see it that way. She’s a social climber, always. She would go out with the devil if it got her picture on the social pages or in the magazines. Just…don’t blame me for your not going out with Christian, understand? If you make more trouble for me, I’ll find a way to get even, Delia,” she threatened.

  I smiled. “Do not worry, Sophia. I make my own decisions for myself. By now, I think Tía Isabela understands that.”

  “Yeah, well…okay.” She thought a moment and then smiled. “This is good. I’ll tease the hell out of him. Tomorrow will be a fun day at school, and there aren’t too many of those,” she said as she walked to the door. “Now I’m glad I decided to go to Danielle’s stupid party.”

  She opened the door but paused and then turned and looked at me. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Why did you really say no?” she asked.

  “I have already told you.”

  “Did Edward have something to do with it?”

  “How could he? I have not spoken with him today.”

  She nodded, still smiling coolly. “Nevertheless, I bet he did,” she said. She looked very pleased with herself coming up with such an idea. I could almost see her brain twirling with possibilities, ideas, ways to deliver more pain and set more traps. “Nighty-night or, as we say, buenas noches.”

  The air in the room seemed to follow her out.

  Living here was like walking through a field with areas of quicksand and having her lead the way, I thought.

  3

  The Davilas

  Christian was cold to me the following day at school. I was not surprised, but it did make me very nervous. He avoided looking my way or walking too closely to me. It did not take long for my friends and the other girls in the school to realize there was now a wall of ice between us where there had just been soft, warm sunshine. Their faces were full of questions. Unbeknownst to me was the stream of underlying ugly lies and innuendos Sophia and her girlfriends were generating through whispers all morning. By the time I went to lunch, I could see the seeds of rumors and suspicions planted in the faces of other students, and instinctively I feared it had something to do with my cousin Edward and his companion, Jesse.

  Girls who wanted to win Christian’s attention surrounded him, but contrary to what they had hoped, he didn’t want their sympathy. I could easily see it in how he reacted to their remarks. How dare they think he needed sympathy? It wasn’t he who had lost out here. It was Delia Yebarra. I could practically hear him saying that to any girl who tried to comfort him about being turned down for a date. That, at least, brought a smile to my face.

  My girlfriends agreed with me when I gave them my reasons for not going out with Christian Taylor.

  “I do not trust his intentions,” I said. “He flits about from one girl to the next as if we were different pastries in a bakery.”

  They laughed at my analogy, and those who thought Christian would never ask them out anyway really lavished compliments on me for being so strong-minded.

  “Delia’s right,” Colleen said. “Christian is too much in love with himself to love anyone else. I don’t even think he loves his own dog.”

  The girls laughed, but our small group was isolated for the most part. However, to my surprise, Fani couldn’t resist talking to me when lunch hour ended.

  “You’re the big topic of conversation today, Delia. Tell me, do you have a boyfriend back in the public school? You once did, didn’t you?” she asked, fishing for some personal information. “Do you still see those Mexican boys?”

  Like some queen bee, she did not like being the last one to learn what was happening in her hive.

  “I have no one,” I said, perhaps too quickly, but of all the girls in the school, I feared her the most, because she had some contact with the Mexican community.

  “Your cousin is telling people you are so in love with her brother that you don’t have interest in other boys. I know she’s feeding that line to Christian.”

  “She knows that is not true.”

  “Yes, but I assure you, Christian Taylor likes that explanation. It makes him feel good. He’s passing it out like free candy.”

  “But it’s a lie.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care one way or the other. Your business is your own business, and I’m no fan of Christian Taylor.”

  And then, whether she wanted to be more friendly with me or just felt an obligation finally as a sister Latina, she said, “Tenga cuidado, chica, usted magulló un ego grande aquí.”

  I watched her walk away.

  Katelynn had overheard her and stepped up beside me.

  “What did Fani say? I hardly ever hear her speak Spanish.”

  “She said I should be careful. I bruised a big ego here,” I told her.

  “Really? Wow,” she said, as if she had been told what the queen had advised me about something.

  “I didn’t need her to tell me that,” I said sharply. Katelynn’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t either, would you?”

  “Yeah, but…Fani. This is getting to be a big story,” she added, and rushed off to tell the others.

  This was getting to be a big story? If only they valued their schoolwork as much as gossip, they’d all be honor students, I thought.

  Later, I saw the look of satisfaction on Sophia’s face. Whatever she had planned and hoped for was now happening, and she was very pleased with herself. She had turned her rumors and innuendos into facts that wouldn’t go away. Christian looked even more arrogant now.

  Tía Isabela was not happy when she heard about it all by Friday and immediately assumed it was somehow Sophia’s fault. I discovered that apparently the parents of the wealthy talked about the social lives of their sons and daughters all the time.

  “What did you do, Sophia? What did you tell Delia? Why isn’t she going on a date with Christian Taylor? I’m sure you did something, so don’t give me that look of innocence,” Tía Isabela said to begin our dinner conversation that night.


  “I didn’t do anything. She decided herself. Or,” she added, her lips dripping with venom, “it was Edward’s doing.”

  “Edward’s doing?” Tía Isabela turned to me. “Is that true? Did Edward advise you not to go on a date with Christian Taylor? Don’t lie to me, either. I’ll find out,” she warned.

  “No, Tía Isabela. I have not yet spoken to Edward about it. He called me early in the week before Christian had asked me on a date.”

  “I see. So, why did you decide not to go out with him? I told you he comes from a distinguished family. I didn’t disapprove, did I?”

  “No. It’s simply that I do not like him, Tía Isabela. He is too much in love with himself. He should just go out with a mirror,” I added, and to my surprise, she burst out in loud laughter.

  “Well,” she said, catching her breath and looking at Sophia, “maybe when it comes to romance and boys, you really should be taking lessons from your cousin after all, Sophia.”

  She couldn’t have said anything more hurtful to Sophia. Her face finally began to shatter, her lips trembling and tears flooding into her eyes. I prepared myself for her outburst, but to my surprise and to Tía Isabela’s, she just stood up, took a deep breath and said, “Believe me, Mother, you will be sorry in the end, not me.”

  Before Tía Isabela could respond, she rushed out of the dining room and to the stairway.

  “Well, I guess our little stone princess can be embarrassed after all,” Tía Isabela said, and continued to eat.

  Such indifference to each other’s pain made me sick inside. I ate what I could and excused myself. When I reached my room, I thought I could hear Sophia sobbing. I hesitated at her door and then decided not to get between her mother and her. In my room, I sat and stared out the window. It was partly cloudy, with the moon looking as if it was trying to avoid being trapped by the clouds. It seemed to slip every which way to remain uncovered. It was how I felt. Trapped and searching for an escape.

  Despite the comforts I enjoyed and the affection of both my cousin Edward and his very close companion, Jesse, I could dream only of escape, dream only of a life with Ignacio, no matter how simple that life was to be. Perhaps we both should have remained in Mexico after all, I thought. Yes, we would have so much less, but we would at least be together. On the other hand, he would be without his family, and I knew how painful that was for him. After all, I was without my parents and my grandmother. They were gone from everything but my thoughts and memories, which to us meant they had not yet passed through the third death.

  According to what I had been taught, there were three types of death. The first occurred when your body stopped functioning and your soul departed. The second occurred when you were interred in the earth. And the third death occurred if and when you were no longer remembered by anyone.

  I was so deep in thought about it all that when the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of the chair. As soon as I heard Edward’s voice, I suspected Tía Isabela might have called him to interrogate him.

  “What’s new on the battlefield?”

  “Your mother nearly succeeded in bringing your sister to tears,” I began, and told him the whole story except for the real reason I had turned down Christian Taylor’s invitation. It was apparently all new to him. “So, your mother did not call you?” I asked.

  “Why should she call me?” I didn’t want to tell him about the rumors Sophia was spreading. When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Yeah, Christian Taylor’s a bit of a horse’s ass. You made the right decision. Don’t worry about Sophia. She has a thick hide. She’ll get over it quickly and do something to bring someone else to tears.”

  “There is so much anger swirling about in this house, Edward. Will it ever change?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quickly. “You sound pretty melancholy, Delia. I guess we should have come home this weekend.”

  “No, I’m fine. It’s all right,” I said.

  “You have to hang in there, Delia. Things will change for you. It will get better. You have too much to offer. Just be patient,” he said.

  “I’ll try, Edward. I don’t hear Jesse.”

  “He’s at the library. We’re sharing the work this weekend. I’ll call you again tomorrow,” he said.

  “It’s all right. You need not call. Do your work, Edward.”

  He laughed but insisted he would call.

  When I looked out the window again, I saw Casto standing in the driveway and gazing up at my room. I knew what that meant and hurried down the stairs and out to him. He lingered in the shadows, which confirmed my suspicion.

  “There is something waiting for you at the Davilas’,” he said. We both knew what it was.

  “Gracias, señor.”

  “I am going up that way late in the morning,” he said. “I need to get some things in the big hardware store that is near there.”

  “Gracias. What time?”

  “Ten.”

  “It’s still perhaps better mi tía Isabela not know.”

  “Sí,” he said.

  He had taken me there once before, and what I had done was walk toward the bus station and have him pick me up. We would do the same now.

  “I am very grateful, señor.”

  “Es nada,” he said, and left me in the darkness.

  But now my heart was full of happiness, and the melancholy Edward had heard in my voice was quickly swept away. I hurried back inside to add more to my letter to Ignacio. Although his letters to me were usually quite short, I knew he cherished mine and wanted them to last weeks. I would bring it with me, and his father would get it to him wherever he was in Mexico.

  I was on pins and needles all morning but tried not to seem so when Tía Isabela appeared at breakfast. Sophia was back to having her breakfast delivered to her by Inez. I was confident that would be hard on Inez, and sure enough, she returned with the tray to tell Señora Rosario that Sophia claimed her eggs and her coffee were too cold. An entirely new breakfast had to be prepared for her.

  “I’m going into Los Angeles today,” Tía Isabela told me, and then she did something she had never done. She asked me if I would like to go with her. “It’s business, but I have time to do some shopping.”

  “Gracias, Tía Isabela,” I said, “but I have much to do today for school.”

  She pulled her shoulders back so quickly I knew my rejection was like a slap to her. I realized I should have said yes and planned on going to the Davilas’ home the next day, perhaps after they had returned from church. But it was too late. I had let my heart speak quicker than my head.

  “Suit yourself,” Tía Isabela said, finished her coffee, and left.

  It seemed that every decision, no matter how small or large, would have a negative effect on our relationships here. It was probably far better to find ways to avoid each other so we could avoid even the possibility of conflict.

  Thinking about that, I realized that if Tía Isabela didn’t leave before I did, she would see that I had lied at the table. I had one eye on the clock and another on the door. Just at nine forty-five, she came down the stairs and went out to get into her limousine. I hurried after her, watching Señor Garman drive her down the driveway. As soon as the car was gone, I walked quickly down the driveway myself. It was still better that I be out of sight when Casto picked me up. The worst thing that could happen would be Sophia seeing him do it. She might even get him fired.

  I felt very sneaky, but I felt confident that I had not been seen leaving the house. A little after ten o’clock, Casto pulled up to the curb, and I got into his car.

  “Gracias,” I said again. He nodded.

  There were three employees at mi tía Isabela’s estate who had been there before her husband had died: Señora Rosario, Señor Garman, and Casto. It was natural for me to wonder what things had been like back then. Señor Garman was not as friendly to me as Señora Rosario and Casto, but both were still reluctant to say too much, even after all this time with me.

  “It is good that y
ou are careful, Delia,” Casto said. “The Davilas are good people. I would not like to see any more trouble come to them.”

  “Nor would I.”

  “I’m not sure they could survive here if the truth about their son was revealed. Are you sure this is all still a good idea?”

  Tears came to my eyes before I could respond. I took a deep breath.

  “La esperanza no engorda pero mantiene,” I said. He looked at me and nodded. It wasn’t just my grandmother’s saying. All of the people in my village lived by it. Hope doesn’t fatten, but it nourishes. Our lives were so hard, hope was sometimes all we had, but somehow it was enough to get us through terrible droughts or sicknesses and accidents.

  How desperate for hope poor Ignacio must be, I thought. To do anything that would wound and destroy that hope would be cruel and painful now, not only for him but for me. Our current living conditions were as different as could be, but we shared the same dream.

  “My aunt and her children,” I said, “were they always so unkind to each other?”

  I thought he would not answer because he was quiet so long, but then he shook his head. “When Señor Dallas was alive, he doted on the two of them and Señora Dallas. His love was like the glue that held them together. Sophia was always spoiled,” he added, smiling, “but Señor Dallas could keep her in the corral.

  “Señor Dallas was not happy that Señora Dallas was at war with her own family in Mexico. He tried many times to mend fences, but the flames of her anger never diminished. I think he was always worried about this.”

  “Por qué, señor? They were poor people back in Mexico. How could they do him any harm?”

  “He wasn’t worried about what they could do. He was worried about Señora Dallas. If she could hate her own family so long and so much, how could she love her new family? I once overheard him say such a thing,” he revealed. “Sometimes they would shout at each other, and ears that weren’t meant to be filled with these things were flooded with them.

  “It is not right to speak unkindly about your employer,” he continued, “but this is a mother who was jealous of the love her husband had for his own children. I do not think I say anything you do not know yourself.”