Delia's Heart (Delia 2) - Page 69

If you only knew how much nicer it will be now, I thought, and followed. Knowing that I was free to drive to the Davilas’ home later made me fidgety and impatient in my classes and even at lunch. Fani noticed and remarked about it.

“Something bothering you?” she asked. “Adan, maybe?”

“No, nothing.”

“Let me know the moment he does something that displeases you, Delia. Although he is older than I am, I am more like a big sister to him.”

“Has he not had any serious love affairs?” I asked her.

“Adan?” She laughed. “To him, every love affair is serious, but serious is not a long-term condition. Perhaps he’s changing,” she added quickly when she saw my reaction and thought I was terribly disappointed. Part of me was relieved. I was still walking a tightrope of emotions. “After all,” she continued, “he’s getting older, and now with his father a serious contender for a U.S. Senate seat, he’s got to at least appear more stable. His playboy days are numbered. Maybe you’re numbering them even less and less.”

I said nothing. My mind was on Ignacio and the Davilas now. As soon as the final bell of the day rang, I was out the door. I drove off before Sophia and her friends could corner me and try to talk me into going to their after-school party. I drove a little too fast to get home and to the letter I had written, but this was my opportunity.

I scooped it up and was out the door again before anyone even realized I had come home. On my way down the driveway, I did wave to Señor Casto, who was doing some work with a gardener down near the east wall of the property. Then I shot out of the gate and was on my way. Ignacio’s father and brother weren’t home when I arrived, but his mother and his youngest sister were there, preparing the evening meal. When his sister let me in and I entered the kitchen, I saw the look of happiness and relief on his mother’s face.

“Delia, it has been so long since we last saw you,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel and then hugging me. “How are you?”

“I am fine. It has been difficult for me to get away,” I said.

She nodded, but I saw her eyes shift toward the newspaper on the small table by the pantry door. It was open to the picture of me and Adan and Fani. I went to it.

“This was a birthday party I had to attend,” I began.

“Ignacio’s father wanted to send it to him, but I begged him not to do that. He says Ignacio should get used to the idea that you are off to a new life, and he must be off to his new life.”

“No!” I said. “This is nothing. I am planning on returning to Mexico during the school holiday, in fact, and I will see him if he can meet me in my village.”

“Oh,” she said, impressed. She thought a moment, glanced at the article, and shook her head. “For now,” she said, “it would be better not to mention the trip to my husband. He will find something wrong with it.”

“Sí. This is my letter to Ignacio. I will get the information on the trip for you to get to him as soon as I know the details.”

She took the letter.

“It will get to him?” I asked, worried that Ignacio’s father had forbidden new letters.

“Sí,” she said. “I will make sure.”

“Gracias, señora.”

She insisted that I sit and have a glass of Jarritos lime soda with one of her just-baked Mexican chocolate

meringue cookies. I told her they were as delicious as I remembered my grandmother’s cookies. I was there more than an hour, telling her about my school, my new car, and life at my aunt’s hacienda. Every once in a while, I looked toward the door, anticipating Ignacio’s father’s arrival, but he did not come while I was there. She could see the anticipation was making me nervous and reassured me that she would make things okay.

We hugged, both near tears thinking about Ignacio, and then I left. When I made the turn onto the main highway, I passed Ignacio’s father and Ignacio’s brother coming home in their truck. I had the top down, and they both turned in surprise at the sight of me driving such a car. I barely had time to nod.

My stomach was a hive of mad bees all the way home. I was afraid for Ignacio’s mother when she defended me. Now I was the source of arguments in their casa, I thought. I was still bringing unhappiness to the people who should love me and whom I loved. When would that end?

Driving up to mi tía Isabela’s hacienda, I was surprised to see Alisha’s automobile. Why had she brought Sophia home so early? I was anticipating her not returning until just before dinner. She would surely be afraid that Señora Rosario would mention her not being at dinner. I parked and went into the house. It was quiet downstairs, but as I ascended, I could hear the music pouring out of Sophia’s bedroom. The door was partially opened. I quickly discovered that was so one of them could spot me entering my bedroom. Instantly, Sophia, Alisha, Trudy, and Delores marched in behind me.

From the expressions they all wore and the glassy look in their eyes, I could see they had all been drinking, probably vodka, because they were able to disguise it in fruit juices. Trudy carried a paper cup and sipped it, smiling.

“So, where were you?” Sophia asked. “I thought you had too much work to do and couldn’t go to Alisha’s house after school.”

“Why are you here?” I asked, instead of answering.

“Alisha’s mother didn’t go where she was supposed to go. It wasn’t…what’s the word, Trudy?”

“Conducive.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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