Delia's Heart

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Delia's Heart Page 16

by V. C. Andrews


  “I would never have had such opportunity back in Mexico,” I told her. “Thinking about going to college was like thinking about going to the moon. When I was a little girl, my father always told me never to turn away any knowledge or information, for it has a way of finding a place sometime in your life, often when you least expect it.”

  She flashed a smirk and then became a little thoughtful. “How come if your family was so poor and everyone worked so hard, you had so much time to spend with your parents?”

  I smiled.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked angrily.

  “I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at what you would think if you saw a party in my village or parents out on what we call here an evening out. The family is always together. There is no such thing as a babysitter. Most of the homes in the village have only one bedroom. Parents and their children are together much, much more. Some children even go with their parents to work. I worked on the soy farm at a very young age, actually as soon as I could become a pair of fruitful hands, as my grandmother would say.”

  As if she realized she was getting interested, she shook her head emphatically and scooped up her books. “Sounds like a terrible life. I would have run away.”

  “You’re running away from your life here, aren’t you?” I shot back, perhaps a little too sharply.

  She did pause as if she had been slapped. “Huh?”

  “You mock your school even though it’s an expensive school with more opportunities for students than the public schools provide. You don’t want even to know about your mother’s businesses. You say you don’t want to go to college. You dislike so many of the other students. You seem bored all the time.”

  Her eyes actually became glossy with tears, and I felt guilty. “Well, maybe you’ll rub off on me, and I’ll go pick soybeans and be happy,” she said. “Thanks for helping me with this stupid math.”

  She turned and rushed out, closing the door sharply behind her. I couldn’t become close to her even if we were stuck together in the same dress, I thought.

  The next morning, she came down to breakfast rather than demand that it be brought up to her. I found out later, however, that Tía Isabela had instructed Inez not to bring Sophia her breakfast. It was part of her punishment. She was told to return directly home from school, too, and Señor Garman would be there at the end of the day to get her. Violate one of the new rules, and she would extend her punishment.

  The sword of threats over Sophia’s head worked like a steel cage and at least kept her contained at school. I could see her friends were disappointed in her. They had so wanted to continue the onslaught on my reputation and have fun, or what they considered fun, tormenting me. My picture in the paper with Adan and Fani’s continued friendship with me depressed them as well. It was as if I had been installed in the house of royalty. The girls, including Katelynn, who had helped flame the flames of the nasty stories by reporting me at the restaurant with Edward and Jesse, were now attending to me as if I were the princess and not Fani, or at least as important. Everyone wanted to know about Adan and what it was like going out with an “older man.”

  I was flattered but simultaneously depressed about it. Apparently, what Jesse and mi tía Isabela had suggested was true. Having a relationship with Adan, or at least having it appear so, was the best antidote for the poison Sophia, Christian, and their clique of friends had tried pouring into everyone else’s ears. I had the distinct feeling that if I didn’t get along with Adan and continue dating him, the rumors, like some aggressive cancer, would come charging back to destroy me and infuriate Tía Isabela. The trip to Mexico would be forbidden. I would soon be the one in a cage and not Sophia. I felt like a prostitute who couldn’t deny that her client was desirable, for I had yet to discover something distasteful or unpleasant about Adan Bovio. A part of me hoped I would, and a part of me feared I would.

  He called that night, and we made plans to meet at my aunt’s house the next day to practice with my car as soon as I returned from school. My ankle had improved enough so that I had barely a limp now. Señor Garman returned the crutches to the emergency care. Sophia continually asked me when Adan would be coming around to help me learn how to drive my new car. I knew that she was hoping Tía Isabela would then give permission for me to drive her to school. Perhaps she harbored the belief that she could talk me into taking her other places as well.

  I discovered that Fani knew what was happening between Adan and me almost as soon as I did or perhaps a little beforehand. I had the sense that they spoke often and that I was the chief topic of their conversation. I began to believe Fani was acting as a matchmaker almost as enthusiastically as mi tía Isabela.

  “You two really looked good together at Danielle’s party,” Fani told me.

  “With my crutches? We couldn’t even dance.”

  “You still made a good impression, and that photographer managed to keep the crutches out of the picture, didn’t he? All I’ve heard are good things about the two of you. My parents said it, too, and they spoke to other adults at the party. You’re the talk of the town, Delia, our own Latina Cinderella.”

  All of this talk made me very nervous when Adan arrived on Wednesday. He brought me another gift, a pair of designer sunglasses that I later found out cost hundreds of dollars. Even my aunt would be jealous of them.

  “You can’t keep giving me presents,” I told him when I unwrapped the box.

  “You can’t drive a car like that wearing an ordinary pair of sunglasses, Delia. It’s practically a sin.”

  I laughed and put on the glasses. When I looked in the mirror in the entryway, I was impressed with myself. Immediately, I studied the shadows behind me, too, searching for some sign of the ojo malvado. Adan was watching me, a slight smile of amusement on his lips.

  “What?” he asked, seeing the expression on my face.

  With Ignacio, I would not have hesitated to explain my belief in the evil eye, but I was afraid Adan would laugh at me and perhaps not want to have anything to do with a girl who was so superstitious.

  “Nothing. They are beautiful. Gracias, Adan. But you spend too much money on me.”

  “Nothing compared with what your cousin Edward spends,” he said. It was like a sharp cut. He saw the pained expression on my face and quickly added, “Besides, I like buying you things. You really appreciate it. Most of the girls I know and have known are so damn spoiled I’d have to buy them a jumbo jet to get a sincere thank-you.”

  I continued to look at him in the mirror. It seemed safer to talk to him this way. It was more like a dream, a fantasy, an imaginary relationship that didn’t compare to the reality of Ignacio and me. It was as if Adan and I were characters in a movie we were both watching. To the other girls at school, it truly seemed that way. We had quickly become what our English teacher would say, quoting from Shakespeare, the stuff that dreams were made of. Maybe if I, too, believed this and conducted myself this way, I would not put Ignacio and myself into any real danger. Could I treat it all as lightly as air, slip in and out of my own body, and speak like a puppet? Would Adan notice, and would that make him angry?

  “Thank you, Adan,” I said, and he smiled and reached for my hand when I turned to him.

  “C’mon. Let’s get to that car. You have the key, right?”

  “Right,” I said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

  We went out quickly. I opened the locked doors as Jesse had shown me, and Adan got into the driver’s seat. First, he went through every button, every control. He had me get into the driver’s seat so we could put the seat’s position and height into memory. All I would have to do was touch a number, and the seat would move to fit me. Even the side mirrors moved to fit the way I would look out at them.

  We went through the climate-control system and the audio, and then he started to explain the navigator. We put in the address of mi tía Isabela’s hacienda first.

  “All you’ll have to do,” he explained, “is push this location icon th
at says ‘home,’ and the car will tell you what turns to make until you are here.”

  I could see he enjoyed my astonishment. “Most of the roads outside our village have no signs,” I told him. “However, there is always someone who can tell you where to go or how to get there.”

  “There’s not always someone here,” he said. “And you can’t depend on their directions, anyway. Besides, you have to be careful about whom you talk to when you’re driving this car. A beautiful young woman who looks well-to-do is a moving target.”

  I nodded, impressed with his concern.

  “Do you want the top up or down?”

  “Maybe down,” I said.

  “It’s a hardtop convertible. Watch this,” he said, pressing the button. The top lifted up and back. “Neat, huh?”

  “Yes, it does so much.”

  “Only what you tell it to do,” he said, smiling.

  We started away, and he explained more about the engine, the gears, and the driving. Finally, he pulled to the side of the road, and we changed seats. I pressed the memory button for my seat, and it moved closer and higher. I screamed with delight, and he laughed. It took awhile for me to get used to the accelerator. The car was so powerful that if I pressed too hard, too quickly, we both were snapped backward, screaming. Eventually, it all became much easier, and I became comfortable.

  “It’s a beautiful piece of machinery,” he said, stroking the dashboard as if to him the automobile was really alive. “You’re going to enjoy it.”

  “Thank you for helping me,” I said when we pulled up to the hacienda.

  We put the top back up.

  “You did great. I imagine you are quite a good student, Delia. Your teachers must enjoy having you.”

  “Thank you, Adan.”

  “Can I dominate your weekend this weekend?” he asked before opening the car door.

  “Dominate? What does this mean?”

  “Well, we’re going to dinner Friday night, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to take you to Newport Beach on Saturday and give you a ride on my boat.”

  “You have a boat, too?”

  “Yes,” he said, laughing. “It’s not a big yacht, but the weather is supposed to be perfect, and we can go to Catalina Island for a nice lunch. We’ll have dinner on the way home from Newport.”

  “This is so much,” I said. “I cannot imagine it all.”

  “Don’t. No need to imagine it. We’ll do it,” he said. “Okay?”

  I hesitated.

  “Do you think I should go in and ask your aunt’s permission?” he asked, thinking that was the reason I had not yet replied.

  “No,” I said. It almost made me laugh. She would probably leap at saying yes.

  “Then I can make plans for Saturday?”

  “I have not gone in anything but a rowboat,” I said.

  “You’re in for a great time, Delia. You know,” he said, reaching over to take my hand, “when you can enjoy the things you have with someone who really appreciates them, you really appreciate them, too. You become grateful, and that’s a good thing, no?”

  “Sí.”

  “Then you’ll be doing me a big favor by coming with me,” he said.

  He was either very sincere or very clever, I thought, but at the moment, I didn’t want to work too hard at figuring it out. He leaned closer to kiss me, and then we got out of my car. We walked hand in hand to his.

  “It was a great afternoon,” he said. “Thank you, Delia.”

  “No, thank you for helping me.”

  “Don’t go rushing off to pick up some new guy in this car,” he warned playfully. “I don’t want to be responsible for driving you off, too.”

  “I wouldn’t do such a thing,” I said.

  “I’m just kidding, Delia. You’re fantastic,” he said, and kissed me again.

  Then he got into his car, smiled at me, and drove away. I stood watching him disappear around the gate before turning to go inside. When I closed the door behind me, Tía Isabela appeared so quickly I had the sense she had been watching us from some window.

  “What a beautiful pair of sunglasses,” she said, walking over to me. She plucked them off my head and looked at them. “I imagine Adan gave them to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any idea how much these cost?”

  “No.”

  “I have a similar pair but not as nice as these. Just take good care of them,” she said, putting them on me again. “They look very good on you.”

  “Thank you, Tía Isabela.”

  “Well, how was your driving lesson?” she asked.

  “It was good. He says I’m competent enough to drive the car myself.”

  “That’s nice. Anything else?” she asked. The way she asked with such expectation made me wonder if she didn’t have secret microphones planted in the bushes to overhear our conversation.

  “He asked me to go with him on Saturday to Newport Beach to go on his boat.”

  “That’s wonderful, Delia. I’m happy for you.”

  We both suddenly realized Sophia was standing at the top of the stairway.

  “Where did you get those sunglasses?” she asked, taking a step down.

  “Where do you think she got them, Sophia? It’s too early for Santa Claus.”

  “Not for her,” she said. “They look beautiful on you,” she added, quickly realizing she had reverted to her normal nasty, jealous self.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “So, you had a good lesson?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Good. Can she drive us to school tomorrow and always, Mother?” she asked.

  “It’s up to her. It’s her car,” Tía Isabela said.

  Sophia looked at me hopefully.

  “We’re just going to go to school and back,” I said firmly.

  “Fine. Where else can I go, anyway?” she said petulantly.

  “Exactly,” Tía Isabela said. “And don’t let me hear that you tried to talk Delia into going anywhere else.”

  She glared threateningly at Sophia, then turned and walked away.

  Sophia stood gazing down at me. If her eyes were daggers, I’d be bleeding to death, I thought. But she smiled quickly and returned to her bedroom, confident, I was sure, that she could manipulate me soon and get what she wanted.

  I went up to my room to write a letter for Ignacio. My conscience was dictating the words in my head so quickly I had to get to pen and paper.

  Dear Ignacio,

  I continue to miss and pray for you daily. My cousin Edward has given me a very generous gift. When I see you, I will explain some of the reason for it. It has to do with his relationship with his sister and how difficult she has made life for me here, as you know.

  The gift is a car. I imagine you are shocked to hear it, but not as shocked as I was to see it. I have learned how to drive it and will drive it to and from school, as well as to your family’s home now. In fact, I hope to do that very soon, although it will be hard during the week, because my cousin Sophia will be riding home with me. Maybe I will drive there this coming Sunday after your family has returned from church.

  I paused and held my pen in the air. I did not want to lie to Ignacio, but I didn’t want to tell him very much about Adan. Still, I was afraid the newspaper picture would somehow find its way to him and if I mentioned nothing, he would surely be suspicious and hurt.

  Because I am now attending the private school where only the most wealthy people here send their children, I have been invited to some gala parties. I have tried not to become too friendly with too many other students. I don’t think they will be good friends, but I am also afraid that if I behave strangely, it might create some suspicions.

  A picture of me attending one of these parties was in the newspaper.

  Attending these parties is not going to cause me to forget you. I promise that, and now I have a wonderful surprise to tell you.

  My cousin Edward a
nd his friend Jesse want to take me to Mexico during the next school holiday. They want to go to my village. As soon as I know the details, I’ll get them to you. Perhaps somehow, some way, you can meet me there.

  I have not told them about you, of course, so we’ll have to figure out a way, but isn’t it wonderful?

  I will count the days until it happens.

  Love,

  Delia

  There, I said to myself, I have told him the truth, without revealing anything that would make him sad, and I have even given him hope. However, if and when I sent this letter, I had better be sure the Mexican trip with Edward and Jesse would happen, I thought. Of course, this meant I would have to keep Tía Isabela pleased.

  I gazed at myself in the mirror. I was still wearing my new designer sunglasses and hadn’t even realized it.

  I wondered if I was really concerned with only pleasing Tía Isabela.

  Snapping out of my musings, I folded the letter and put it into an envelope, hoping to deliver it to the Davilas on Sunday. Somehow, I would sneak off, and now that I did not have to depend on Casto for a ride, I should have an easier time of doing it.

  Right after dinner, Adan called me. I had just begun my homework.

  “I know you’re doing your schoolwork,” he said, “but I just wanted to see if you had mentioned Saturday to your aunt.”

  “Yes.”

  “No problem, I hope.”

  “No,” I said. If he only knew how hard she was pushing me in his direction, I thought.

  “Good. Then I’ll make the calls I have to make to set things up for us. Enjoy your new car,” he added.

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “Uh-oh,” he said. “I think I hear something unpleasant in your voice. That means you have a rider along, doesn’t it?”

  “Sí, señor,” I said and he laughed.

  “They should make these cars with an eject button, so you can send your passenger out through the roof like a jet pilot.”

  I laughed at the image of Sophia flying up and out.

  “It’s good to hear your laugh, Delia. It’s like music,” he said.

 

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