Delia's Crossing (Delia 1) - Page 134

I rose and went out to meet Señora Paz and her sister and go to see Pascual Rubio and his mother.

24

A New Life

Señora Paz asked to see my check from the sale of the casa. I kept Edward’s envelope out of sight, because I knew she and her sister would hound me to find out what was in that one, too.

“This is more of a dowry than I thought,” she said, when I handed her the check. She looked at Margarita. “Señor Diaz did well. Pascual Rubio is getting more than we anticipated.” She waved the check at her. “Let us not look as if we are coming to him with our hats in our hands, begging him to be charitable and take Delia for his wife.”

“No,” Margarita said. She looked at me. “Don’t worry. We’ll speak up for you, Delia. Making a good marriage contract is a tricky business.”

“How would you know?” Señora Paz asked her.

“I would know. I knew about your marriage contract, how much our father put into the pot. Your husband’s family didn’t have much more than Delia. Didn’t our father buy the gold ring you wear?”

“At least I wear a gold ring,” Señora Paz fired back. Margarita seemed to shrink. “You just don’t interrupt me and say something foolish,” Señora Paz told her. “Come along, Delia.” She threw a reproachful look at her sister, who simply smiled at me as if to say her sister was just being silly.

I told them Señor Diaz had worked out arrangements for me to remain in my house two more days.

“You will stay with us until the wedding,” Señora Paz said.

Both she and her sister were very interested in how Señor Diaz’s sister-in-law had treated me. I described her, and that set them both off into a tirade about her, spinning stories about her marriage and rumors they had heard about her relationship with her husband. They could have been flies on the wall in her casa from the details they revealed. Listening to them was amusing enough to take the edge off my nervousness.

When we entered the menudo shop, Señora Rubio froze for a moment and then called for her son, who stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his already very stained apron. His shirt was open, and the curly dark hairs that grew from the base of his throat and down his chest and stomach spiraled out like thin broken springs. When he saw us, he quickly wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and smiled. Since the last time I had seen him, he had lost two upper teeth on the left side of his mouth, but because of the thickness of his lips, it was not so visible when he didn’t smile. He was trying to grow a beard. His hair was so light brown that it was nearly invisible and was growing in patches rather than in a neat shape.

“Hola,” Señora Paz said.

“Hola,” Señora Rubio replied, and looked at her son sharply to get him to speak.

“Sí, hola,” he quickly parroted.

“We have come to talk about Delia’s future,” Señora Paz said. She looked at the empty table to our right. “She has no one but us to speak for her.”

“Why has she returned from the United States?” Señora Rubio asked immediately.

The negotiation has begun, I thought. She is looking for something negative about me.

“I decided that I did not belong there,” I said. “I left before I found out my grandmother had died.”

“Nevertheless, she is still more comfortable living here,” Margarita inserted. “Just like your son. I don’t see him crossing the border to make a better living.”

“That’s because he has a living here,” Señora Rubio said. “A good living.”

“Can he keep this good living when you are gone to your maker?” Señora Paz asked. “Can he do all that is required in this shop, cook, clean, be a waiter, and take care of a home?”

Señora Rubio didn’t reply. She stared a moment and then nodded at the table, and we went to it to sit. Pascual remained behind the counter. We had yet to say anything to each other.

“Maybe you would offer us a glass of water,” Señora Paz said.

Señora Rubio nodded at Pascual, who hurried to pour water into glasses and bring them to our table. While he did so, he snuck glances at me.

“Where will she sleep in your casa?” Señora Paz asked immediately, as if that were the most important consideration.

“I will sleep in the living room, and they will have the bedroom. I don’t need much of a bedroom.”

“She is a good cook. Her grandmother taught her many things

,” Señora Paz said. “She can even make her wonderful mole, and you could sell it here, maybe.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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