Delia's Heart (Delia 2) - Page 60

“I admit, they are my weakness.” He smiled. “Some weaknesses aren’t terrible to have. What do you say? We can’t leave this beauty languishing.”

“Call me tomorrow.”

“I will. I hope you’re not angry at my taking more of your time today.”

“No. As mi tía Isabela said, I had to have lunch, too. Perhaps not as elaborate. I usually make my own lunch.”

“I bet.”

He kissed me on the cheek, then paused and kissed me on the lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening,” he whispered.

“Thank you for the gift,” I told him. He got into his car and looked out at me through the open window.

“That picture was a gift for both of us. I had two copies made, and mine is on my night table next to my bed. I’ll be looking at you when I wake up every morning.”

That idea sent a chill down my spine. Everything between us was moving too quickly. It was like trying to hold back a flood of emotions with a dam made of paper. I said nothing. He smiled and drove off. When I turned to go back into the house, I saw Sophia. She was in my room, looking down at me from my window. The moment I looked up at her, the curtain closed, and she was gone as quickly as a streak of lightning.

Despite Tía Isabela’s assurances, I had no doubt that Sophia was also as dangerous even now. I hurried inside and up to my room, expecting to see some damage. I even pulled back the blanket on my bed to see if she had put something terrible in it, such as tacks or even a snake. When it came to Sophia, there were no limits on what terrible thing to imagine.

I found nothing, but it was obvious she must have seen the photograph in the gold frame. She kept track of everything I had and was given.

Tía Isabela had told Inez exactly where to put it.

Mine, too, was on the night table next to the bed.

Adan would be the first face I would see when I woke up.

I dared not put a picture of Ignacio anywhere except in the front window of my memory.

And for the moment, Adan’s handsome face was pushing Ignacio’s into the shadows claimed by the third death.

10

Beware of Thorns

At dinner that evening, I decided Sophia had lost a battle but not the war. When she finally came out of her room, she was neatly dressed, with no rings in her nose or anything else that usually annoyed and disturbed Tía Isabela. Her hair was brushed and pinned very neatly, and she wore one of her prettier blouse-and-skirt combinations. She wasn’t overly made up. In fact, she wore no lipstick, black, which Tía Isabela especially hated, overly bright red or otherwise.

At the table, she was Little Miss Politeness, performing perfect dinner etiquette and saying nothing that could disturb her mother. She was even polite to me, passing dishes and thanking me for whatever I passed to her, but I didn’t for one moment believe in her performance. It would take more than being grounded on the weekends for a month and threats of greater punishments to rehabilitate Sophia Dallas. If she really did turn over a new leaf, it would be a leaf with new thorns as well, the only change being that they might be more difficult to see.

Nevertheless, she began the dinner by reciting a speech she had surely read in a book or gotten over the phone from a friend.

“I’m sorry about my behavior. I know I have no justification for it. My excuse is only that I have been miserable myself. I’m disappointed in my failure to lose weight, and I’ve been a little bitch, especially to you, Delia. I admit that I have been jealous and done things I shouldn’t have done. Some of my so-called good friends have instigated a lot, too. I’ll try to be a better cousin.”

I looked at Tía Isabela, expecting her usual skeptical expression. Surely, I thought, she knew Sophia was not sincere, but to my surprise, she pretended to believe and accept her apology.

“I’m happy to hear you say those things, Sophia. I hope that’s all true.”

“It is.”

“Good. Let’s see how it goes,” she added, holding up the promise of a reprieve.

“Do you think I can get some help with that math tonight?” Sophia

asked me, with one eye on her mother. “I didn’t really pay enough attention in class, and as usual, it all looks like gibberish to me.”

“Yes, I’ll help you with it,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said. She flashed another smile at her mother.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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