Authors: VC Andrews
Pascual Rubio was already balding in his midtwenties. He was short and heavy and shy to the point of being nearly mute. I was not the only one who rarely had any sort of conversation with him. The very idea of marrying him was shocking. I started to shake my head vigorously.
“You’re not going back to your rich aunt, Delia. You’ve told us so yourself. We don’t know why, but our not knowing why is not important right now. What will you do here? Go work in the soybean fields?” Magarita asked. “Or do you want to end up like me, a spinster living with her widowed sister?”
“There has to be another choice,” I said. “But thank you for thinking of me.”
They both looked very disapproving of how quickly I had rejected what they obviously thought was a wonderful, quick solution to my situation.
“You should go see Señor Diaz this morning. We sent word to him and to Señor Avalos to tell them you were back,” Señora Paz said.
“
Gracias,
” I said.
“Please, Delia, think of what we suggested,” Margarita said. “Pascual thinks very highly of you. You should think yourself lucky. A girl your age with no family to help her has little future.”
I didn’t disagree about that. Perhaps I had been too bold to chase a bigger dream. Perhaps my destiny was set, and I did belong here married to someone like Pascual.
“It will be a wonderful wedding,” Señora Paz said. “And you will have a home and a business.”
“I don’t know…to be married so soon after my grandmother’s passing seems very wrong,” I said, shaking my head.
“She would be the first to tell you, ‘
No hay dolor de que el alma no puede levantarse en tres días.
’ There is no sorrow the soul can’t rise from in three days.”
“Yes,” I said, smiling and remembering how she would pronounce her sayings with the authority of a priest. “She would.”
“Then you will think seriously about this offer from Señor Rubio?” Margarita asked.
“I’ll consider it,” I said.
“That’s a smart girl,” Señora Paz said, patting my hand.
“I’m going to change my clothes and then go see Señor Diaz,” I said.
“We’ll wait for you to return, and then we’ll all go together to see Señora Rubio,” Margarita told me. “And we’ll let Pascual speak for himself.”
I couldn’t imagine Pascual saying such things to me in front of an audience of women. If he wanted me so much that he could overcome his great shyness, maybe it was meant to be.
I thanked them for all they had done and went to my house for what could be the next-to-last time. The next time, I would be going to get my things and whatever family possessions remained. After I changed my clothes, I went to see Señor Diaz. He was one of the most highly respected men in the village, having been a judge as well as a lawyer. Few decisions in the village were made without his input, even now. He had an office with a secretary and the most modern communications of anyone, even better than what Señor Lopez had on his large estate and soybean farm.
I had been to Señor Diaz’s office only once before, with my father when he went to get some important papers. Señor Diaz’s secretary was his sister-in-law. My mother always thought she was an arrogant woman who behaved as if she were the one, not Señor Diaz, who was giving advice. She wasn’t a gossip like Señora Paz and her sister, but she had her ways of letting people know she knew important things about them or their families. She held that knowledge like a sword over their heads.
Tall, with a long face that convinced my grandmother she had a horse in her ancestry, Señor Diaz’s sister-in-law had a way of pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows instead of saying
hola.
She spoke to people as if her words were jewels. Few people could make me feel as uncomfortable in their presence as she could.
She knew who I was, but she pretended she didn’t when I walked into the office.
“Yes?” she said.
“I’m Delia Yebarra. Señor Diaz knows I am coming to see him.”
She stared at me as though I should be telling her much more. Then she got up without saying another thing to me and went to the inner office door. She knocked but did not wait to hear Señor Diaz say to come in. She went in and closed the door behind her.
Not ten seconds later, she stepped out and returned to her desk as if I weren’t standing there. She shifted some papers and then looked at me.
“Well, go on in,” she said, as if I should have known to do so on my own. I thanked her, but she no longer looked at me or heard me.
“
Hola,
Delia,” Señor Diaz said, coming around his desk to greet me. He was a distinguished-looking man with a thin black mustache and a narrow face. He had dark brown eyes and black hair and was no more than five-feet-ten, but because of the proud and confident way he held himself, he looked to be taller. “I am sorry about your grandmother’s passing. The deaths of your parents are not yet distant enough of a memory.”
“
Gracias, señor.
”
“I’m afraid the money for your family’s house is not such a great amount, Delia. It’s not going to be enough to live on for long.”
“I understand,
señor.
”
“It’s more than most houses in the village would get. I’m proud to say I negotiated a fair sum.”
“
Gracias, señor.
”
He stared at me a moment, and I knew he had something more to say.
“I knew you would be back here soon, Delia. I was not surprised to hear from Señora Paz that you had returned and were at their
casa.
”
“Oh?
Por qué,
Señor Diaz?”
He stared a moment and then returned to his desk and picked up a manila envelope.
“When your grandmother died, I contacted your aunt in Palm Springs, California. She did not respond, but this morning, this came by special delivery for you,” he said, handing it to me.
I looked at the return address. It was Palm Springs, but the name above it was Edward Dallas, not Isabela.
“
Gracias,
Señor Diaz,” I said, not hiding the amazement in my voice.
“I have spoken with Señor Avalos since I heard of your return, and he has agreed to permit you to remain at the house two more days, but I’m afraid you will have to take your things and find other arrangements after that, Delia.”
“
Sí,
I understand,” I said.
“Here,” he said, handing me another envelope, “are the proceeds of the house sale. It needs to go to the bank.”
“
Gracias.
”
“Do you have a place to go, someone to be with?”
“I will,
señor.
”
“Once again, I am sorry for all your troubles and sorrow, Delia. You had a good family. You must remember them and do only what will make them proud of you.”
“
Sí, señor. Gracias,
” I said, and left, clinging to the two envelopes but, for all sorts of reasons, terrified of opening the one from Edward. I didn’t even glance at Señor Diaz’s sister-in-law, but I felt her beady eyes following me out the door.
I decided to walk back to my house first and to open Edward’s mail there. On my way, I saw the children hurrying to get to school on time. I stepped back into the shadows and watched as some of the girls and boys from my class passed in front of the square, talking and laughing. My heart ached with the envy I felt. How I wished I could simply return to that innocent world again, wipe away all the horror of the past with a sweep of my hand, and magically become Delia Yebarra, the fifteen-year-old who had just celebrated a wonderful
quinceañera.
The sight of them and the sound of their voices died away, leaving me alone in the shade.
Not noticing my tears until I was well under way again, I hurried past people who I knew wanted to offer me their condolences. I practically ran up the street to our house and the sanctity that remained inside. As soon as I did, I threw myself onto Abuela Anabela’s bed and cried until my throat ached. Then, remembering the letter from Edward, I sat up, ground the tears out of my eyes, took a deep breath, and tore the envelope open.
A money order for five hundred dollars fell into my lap. I looked at it and then read the letter.
Dear Delia,
I hope and pray this letter finds you.
Yesterday, my mother received the notice of your grandmother’s passing. If you’re reading this letter, you now know, of course, but there is a lot that’s happened that you do not know.
First, we are assuming you ran off with Ignacio Davila. I only hope and pray that you did not suffer the same fate as he did. We learned that his body was found in the desert. Once I heard about it, Jesse and I went to see his father. His family was in mourning. His father told me how he had found out about his son. It seems the man who guided him and probably you through the desert discovered his body when he was returning with a group of what are called
pollos,
illegal aliens. He was not able to bring Ignacio’s body back, and as horrible as this sounds, he told his father that Ignacio’s body was already attacked by coyotes and buzzards, and it was better that he not be brought back. His father has accepted it. The man gave him Ignacio’s wallet with his identification.
Since we heard nothing about you, we have been hoping you somehow got through and reached your village. Of course, my first need was to know why you would run off. I was hoping things would clear up and you could start again. I was upset with my mother when I learned she was not doing enough to protect you. I wanted to protect you even more this time, despite my new handicap. By the way, I’m doing fine. In fact, I’m something of a romantic hero to the girls in my school because I’m wearing this eye patch. Who can explain the mind of a teenage girl?
Jesse and I talked about going to Mexico to find you and bring you back. With Ignacio now gone, the police have moved on with the case. Ignacio’s friends have made a deal with the prosecutor. They are being convicted of manslaughter. They will go to prison, but not for as long as they could have gone. No one, and I want to stress this, has any interest in talking with you anymore. It’s over and done. In fact, Bradley’s father, learning of Ignacio’s death, has backed off trying to hurt Ignacio’s father.
Sophia tried to complain about your leaving with her bracelet. She told my mother some fantastic story about how you convinced her you were sorry you had hurt her and begged her to be your friend again. Both my mother and I nearly burst out laughing listening to her, and she just ran out of the room. She’s back to her old ways and couldn’t care less about any of this anymore.
I have enclosed the money order for you to use to pay for your trip back. I had a long talk with my mother about you, and she has agreed to make things easier for you. You will never again be treated as a servant here. With your grandmother gone, we are your closest family. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I will be turning eighteen next month and my trust starts to get activated. There are many properties and accounts that she wants me to continue with her. She is now becoming my business partner, or I am hers. My trust activates in stages, and when I’m twenty-five, I’ll have even more control.
You have to come back, Delia. I would feel I wasted my efforts and my eye if you didn’t. I know that’s hitting below the belt or being a little unfair, maybe, to say that in order to get you to return, but in love and war, that’s how it goes. Yes, I want to love you as my cousin. Both Jesse and I believe you are a very good person and belong here. Goodness knows, this family needs someone like you, desperately.
My mother has even agreed, if you would like, to enroll you in my private school. It will be easier, and your education will go better.
Don’t worry about Sophia. We, with you beside us, can handle Sophia. She’s too selfish really to care about anyone else, anyway. Maybe your good influence will rub off a little on her, and she’ll improve, which is another reason for you to return. Call me. Please.
Come back, Delia.
You’ll see. It will be different.
Love, your
primo,
Edward
I folded his letter and sat there feeling sick to my stomach. Ignacio was definitely dead, but the horror of hearing about his body being food for buzzards and coyotes was too much. I went out because I thought I would throw up. The pain was in my stomach, but I just did a little dry heaving and crying. Exhausted from it, I returned to the living room and sat in a daze for a while. Then I looked at the money order again and reread some of Edward’s letter.
Go back? Despite all of his promises and what my aunt had told him, I didn’t think my life would be much better back there. I certainly didn’t believe Sophia would just fade into the woodwork. She was too spiteful, and Tía Isabela couldn’t have experienced a sudden change of heart, forgive and forget. In his own words, he was telling me that he was threatening her with some financial matters to get her to be cooperative, just the way he had first threatened her to get me living in the main house after my horrible time with Señor Baker. People back there would always think of me as the girl who caused so much turmoil and sadness. Edward and Jesse, despite their good intentions, could not protect me against that.