I almost told him the truth about it all then, but fear of his deserting me, too, kept me from speaking about Ignacio. In the end, it would be okay, I told myself, even though I had no idea when such a conclusion would ever come.
Lifting away my schoolbooks, I slipped out the nearly completed new letter to Ignacio. I wrote to him only in Spanish, just in case Sophia came into my room and inspected my things, looking for something she could use to make me look bad in front of Tía Isabela or the other girls at school. It was like living in the same house with a pair of scorpions.
While I wrote to describe my days, my school experiences, and my longing for us to be together again, my eyes drifted to Danielle Johnson’s party invitation. I was always reluctant to go to any of these parties, but in the end, I usually did, just to keep anyone from suspecting anything. Why I was invited before Sophia was invited did puzzle me. I was beginning to believe that whoever invited me was afraid that if Sophia wasn’t invited, I would be unable to attend. If Sophia knew that her social standing was so dependent on me, she would be inconsolable, and I didn’t need another reason for her to despise me.
So, usually, I did not reply until she was invited, or if I were asked in school, I would say something about Sophia, and that would trigger an invitation. She did hang out with a different clique of girls at the school, and more often than not her friends were not invited to the same parties, but Sophia, not to be outdone by me, certainly, always attended and almost always had bad things to say about the girls, the party itself, or even the food. Unless it was something she did or chose to do first, it was never any good.
Usually, I did not mention social activities when I wrote to Ignacio. I didn’t want him to think I was with other boys and having a good time while he suffered because he was away from his family and those he loved. I spent most of my letter describing my schoolwork, my life in the hacienda, and the things Edward and Jesse did for me. I knew he would like to know I was being so protected.
Edward and Jesse really were like two mother hens, I thought. They called me at least twice a week and returned to Palm Springs almost every other weekend to take me to the movies or to dinner or just to hang out with me in the house. I always told Edward when I was invited somewhere, and he would give me advice about the girl’s family, if he knew them, or advice in general about how to behave with what he called “the poor little misunderstood rich kids.”
As if he could sense when I was thinking about him, he called.
“What’s new on the battlefield?” was always his first question, and I always laughed.
“Your mother has been very busy with business and business dinners this week,” I said. “I’ve seen her only twice.”
“Lucky you. Jesse and I won’t be there this weekend. We have some research papers and will sleep in the library, but we’re thinking of coming down the following weekend,” he said.
“Oh.”
“You don’t sound happy about it. Have you fallen in love or something?”
“No, but I have another party invitation for that Saturday night, Danielle Johnson.”
“Johnson? Yes, that should be a nice party,” he said immediately. “They have a beautiful property in Palm Desert. Her father built himself his own golf course on the property. He owns a railroad in Canada, you know, among other things. Well, you’re at the top of the food chain now, Delia.”
“Food chain?” I laughed. “What are they eating?”
“Each other. It’s called social cannibalism. Did you tell my mother?”
“Not yet.”
“What about Sophia?”
“Not yet,” I said.
He was quiet a moment. I could almost see the realization settle in his face.
“She wasn’t invited?”
“I’m sure she’ll get her invitation tomorrow. Mine came today. It’s happened before,” I reminded him.
“I see. So, you haven’t mentioned it yet. You’re getting pretty smart, Delia. We’ll be down anyway. We can spend Friday night with you and some of Saturday, and we’ll love to hear the blow-by-blow about the party on Sunday morning before we head back to Los Angeles.”
“I love you both,” I said, “but you don’t have to worry so much.”
“Hearing you say that makes me worry more,” he replied. “Tenga cuidado.”
“Be careful yourself, Mr. Big Shot college man,” I said, and he laughed. I heard Jesse ask him what was so funny. When he told him, Jesse laughed, too, and then got on the phone.
“I met an exchange student from Costa Rica today,” he said, “and she was very impressed with some of my Spanish. Thanks to you.”
“I met an exchange student from Texas, and she was impressed with my English, thanks to you,” I replied.
I never heard either of them laugh so hard.
“We miss you,” they chanted together, and then we said good-bye.