Because It Is My Blood (17 page)

Guess who almost joined you in the ranks of “girls expelled from Holy Trinity”? Apparently, getting pregnant is frowned upon by Catholic schools. Who knew? Since I’m a senior, they’re letting me stay even though it has been made clear to me that I am little more than a walking cautionary tale.

While we are on the subject … How could I have been such a fool as to sleep with Gable Arsley? Yes, he said he loved me. But he said that to you, too, and you managed to keep your legs together, didn’t you?

I’m sure there are a million other things I meant to say to you, but I am sleepy. All I want to do is nap lately. And eat chocolate if I could figure out where to get any.

Merry Christmas, Annie, my love.

Je t’aime! Je t’aime! Je t’aime!

Scarlet

Anya:

Mr. Kipling asked me not to write you about the business until we have more solid information but I feel that I must. I believe that your cousin Fats is making moves to seize the business from Yuri and Mickey. If that happens, Balanchine Chocolate will be left in utter disarray. Fats is a small-time guy with no understanding of the larger organizational politics at play. I am at present trying to arrange for your return. I have meetings set with Bertha Sinclair in January to see what can be done. When the time comes, I will contact you.

Remember, Anya. You are still the
daughter of Leonyd Balanchine.
You have more claim than Yuri, Mickey, or Fats. The sooner you can come home, the better. Even an Anya Balanchine back in Liberty is superior to an Anya Balanchine that no one can see or talk to. Apologies if I have overstepped my place.

Your humble servant,

Simon Green, Esq.

Annie,

This is not a love letter.

I think you would laugh at me if I wrote you a love letter, so I’m not going to. If this accidentally becomes one, you have my permission to throw it in the fire.

So, here it is:

I ate an orange, and I thought of you.

I did a lab on tissue decomposition, and I thought of you.

I took the train to visit my sister’s grave in Albany, and I thought of you.

The band played the Fall Formal, and I thought of you.

I saw a girl with dark curly hair on the street, and I thought of you.

I took your kid sister to Coney Island—she’s the only one who is as blue as I am. Natty’s the smartest kid in the world and good company. Still, I thought of you.

You have often said that you think the only reason I ever liked you was because of who my father is—that I liked you because my father wished I wouldn’t. Well, it might interest you to know that Dad lost the election. He’s out of politics, and I still like you.

There it is.

This is not a love letter.

Win

*   *   *

I read my letters, then reread them. I put them to my face so I could feel where my friends’ hands had been. I even tried to smell the letters, but they didn’t smell like anything except ink and fresh paper. (If you’ve never smelled it, ink is oddly bitter, like blood almost.)

After so much time of hearing nothing, the news was overwhelming. When I left New York, I buried Anya Balanchine, and in Mexico, I had become this other girl. I liked this other Anya, but reading these letters reminded me that I couldn’t be her forever.

A knock at my door. “May I come in?” Theo asked.

I stuffed the passel of letters under my pillow.

“Yes,” I said. Theo entered, closing the door behind him. “I was told boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ rooms at Casa Mañana,” I said.

“This is a special case. I thought you might need to talk,” Theo said.

He already knew my secret, and so I decided to unburden myself to him. It was the first time I had had a true confidant since Nana.

Theo didn’t interrupt me and he was silent a while before speaking. “Here is what you do. First, you do not marry this Yuji Ono. He does not love you, Anya, and it is obvious that he is only interested in expanding his influence. Second, do not go back to New York”—he paused—“ever.”

“But Simon Green said that everything is falling apart. And Yuji, whatever his interest, said the same thing.”

Theo shrugged. “What difference does it make if the chocolate company falls apart? One set of crooks or another. What is it to you? Why do you care if it’s the end of Balanchine Chocolate? This company has only brought you pain.”

I considered what he said. “I … I suppose I care because my father built that company. And if Balanchine Chocolate dies, it will be like my father dies all over again.”

Theo nodded slowly. “You love Balanchine Chocolate like I love cacao.”

“I wouldn’t say
love
, Theo.”

“No, you speak the truth. Love isn’t right. It isn’t right for me either. Sometimes I hate cacao.” Theo looked at me. “You don’t love Balanchine Chocolate. You
are
Balanchine Chocolate.”

“Yes. I suppose I am.”

“You have to go back. But I also think it is no good if you are in too much of a rush. You should let your lawyers do the job of arranging your return. Until then, you can help me prepare the next harvest.”

“Thank you, Theo.” I did feel better having discussed this with someone.

“De nada.”
Theo stood and walked to the door. Suddenly, he stopped. “Anya, tell me one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Was there a letter from your boyfriend in that packet?”

I laughed at Theo. “
Sí
, Theo, and it was ridiculously romantic.”

“Read it to me.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“What? It is good for me to know. Don’t you want me to learn from such a master Casanova as this Win?”

I shook my head at Theo. I walked over to the door, kissed Theo on the cheek, and then pushed him out the door. “You should go. Quick, Theo, quick! Before Luz catches us!”

*   *   *

In the morning, when I went outside, Yuji Ono was waiting for me. “Let’s go speak in my car,” he said.

The car was black with thick, tinted windows, possibly bulletproof glass. His driver was the same heavyset man I had seen in New York last spring when Nana died. Yuji asked the driver to leave, and then he opened the door for me so that I could join him in the backseat.

“Yuji,” I began. I hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night because I’d been going over what I would say to him so many times. My words came out sounding rehearsed. “Yuji, first I want to thank you for your friendship. I have had no better friend than you. My family has had no better friend than you either.”

Yuji bowed his head slightly, but said nothing.

“I want to thank you very much for the offer of”—it was difficult for me even to say the word—“marriage. I know you wouldn’t make it lightly, and I am truly honored. But, after much consideration, I want you to know that my mind hasn’t changed. I am too young to marry anyone, and even if I weren’t young, I wouldn’t want to make a decision of this magnitude while I was away from home and while I have been out of contact with my advisers for so long.” I had on purpose decided not to mention anything about
love.

Yuji studied my face, and then he bowed his head. “I respect your decision.” He bowed his head again, this time even more deeply.

I offered Yuji my hand to shake. “I hope we can still be friends,” I said.

Yuji nodded, but he didn’t shake my hand. What I thought at the time was that his feelings were too hurt. “I must go,” he said.

He opened the car door, and I left. His driver got in, and then they were gone. I watched the car until I could no longer see it.

Although it was 70° that day, an uncommon wind swirled past, whipping my hair across my face, leaving me with goose-bumped arms and an unpleasant chill in my heart. I went inside to see if I could borrow a sweater from Luna.

X

I REAP WHAT I SOW

I
MMEDIATELY AFTER NEW YEAR’S,
we resumed work in the orchard. I’d wake before dawn, pile my nascent ponytail atop my head, and take my place beside Theo and the other workers. I was stronger than when I had arrived, so I found the January labors easier. I mentioned this to Theo, and he laughed at me.

“Anya,” he said, “we are in siesta season.”

“Siesta season?”

“Most of the last crop has already been harvested, and the second cacao season, which is always the lesser one anyway, is yet to begin. So, we work a little. Eat a big lunch. Take a nap. Work a little more.
Siesta season
.”

“It’s not that easy,” I protested. To prove my point, I showed him my hands, which had fresh blisters from using my new machete. Theo had sharpened it for me as promised.

“
Ay
, your poor hands.” He took my hand and he held it up against his own rough palm. “You will get calluses like these beauties of mine soon enough.” Suddenly, he smacked his hand against mine.

I took the Lord’s name in vain. “That hurt!” I yelled.

Theo found the whole thing hysterical. “I was trying to help your calluses along,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s hilarious. You’re a jerk sometimes, you know that?” I walked away from him. Since the incident with his grandmother, Theo occasionally went out of his way to show me just how much he didn’t fancy me.

Theo put his hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged him off. “Leave me alone.”

“Perdóname.”
He got down on one knee. “Forgive me.”

“Siesta season or not, this work isn’t easy, Theo.”

“I know that,” he said. “Yes, I know that very well. In other countries, they let little children work these orchards. The parents sell them off for nothing. I tell you, it disgusts me, Anya. So, if my cacao costs a bit more because I have to pay real farmers a real wage, I think it is worth it. Superior farmers make a superior product. My cacao tastes better and I do not have to hang my head at church, you know?”

In a low voice, I asked him if he knew what kind of cacao the Balanchines used.

“Not mine,” Theo said. “I cannot know specifically what kind your family uses but most of the black market chocolate brands have to use the cheapest cacao they can get. It is the reality of running a black market business.”

Theo was too nice to say what that reality probably meant for my family.

“I did meet your father once,” Theo said. “He came to Granja Mañana to meet my parents about switching to our cacao. My parents thought he was going to do it, too. I remember Mama and Papa were even looking into buying more acreage. Supplying Balanchine Chocolate would have meant a lot of money to our family. But about a month later, we heard that Leo Balanchine had died and so the deal was off.”

Theo had met my father! I lowered my machete. “Can you remember anything Daddy said?”

“It was a long time ago, Anya, but I remember him telling me that he had a son about my age.”

“My brother, Leo. He would have been pretty sick back then.”

“How is he now?” Theo asked.

“Better,” I told him. “Much better. Yuji Ono even said that Leo was in love.” I rolled my eyes.

“You don’t believe this?”

I didn’t have a reason not to believe Yuji Ono. It was something else. In the past several months, I’d come to realize how little I knew Leo. I’d always tried to protect him, but I think that had led me to not really see him. I shrugged. “If it’s true, I’m happy for him.”

“Good for you, Anya. The world needs more love not less. Speaking of which, I want to take you down to the factories to see the chocolate we make for Saint Valentine’s Day. It’s the busiest time of year for our factories.”

I asked him why they made chocolate for Valentine’s Day.

“Are you kidding, Anya? We make chocolate hearts and candy boxes and just about everything else! What do they do in your country on Valentine’s Day?”

“Nothing. It’s not really a very popular holiday anymore.” I remembered that Nana had told me that Valentine’s Day used to be more of a big deal.

Theo’s mouth dropped open. “So, no chocolates? No flowers? No cards?
Nada
?”

I nodded.

“How sad. Where is the romance?”

“We still have romance, Theo.”

“You mean your Win?” Theo teased me.

“Yes, him. He’s very romantic.”

“I’ll have to meet this Casanova when I go to New York.”

I asked him when he was coming.

“Soon,” he said. “As soon as you leave, I am following.”

“What about the farm and the factories?”

“This? She runs herself. Let my sisters and brother do it for a change.” Theo laughed. “Be ready for me, Anya. I’m staying with you. I expect nothing less than the red carpet.”

I told him I’d be happy to have him anytime he wanted to come.

“Anya, tell me something serious now.”

I already knew that this wouldn’t be at all serious. “Yes, Theo.”

“You cannot actually prefer this Win to me. You and I have so much more in common, and in case you haven’t noticed, I really am adorable.”

I ignored him and went back to my work.

“Anya, this Win … Is he very tall?”

*   *   *

The next day, Theo and I drove down to the factories, where they produced the products he had described and goods beyond that, too: hand creams and health powders and even a packet for making Abuela’s hot chocolate.

By the time we’d returned to Granja Mañana, it was after sunset, and the workers had gone home. I accompanied Theo to make a quick check of the orchards. I was walking slightly ahead of him when I heard the sound of rustling leaves. It could have just been a small animal, but I felt for my machete anyway. As I was doing that, a pod with the telltale signs of
Monilia
distracted me. I bent down to slice it off.

A second later, Theo yelled,
“Anya, turn around!”

I thought Theo might have been joking, so I continued what I was doing.

“Anya!”

Still squatting, I turned my head over my shoulder. Behind me was a large man. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a mask; the second thing I noticed was the gun. The gun was pointed at my head, and I was sure I was going to die.