Delia's Heart (8 page)

The waiters and waitresses walked about with trays of champagne and all sorts of hors d’oeuvres, and the mariachis circulated, playing and singing. I immediately recognized the father of a girl who had been in my ESL class at the public school I had attended. Her name was Amata, but we called her Mata. He saw me and nodded slightly, his eyes clearly revealing his surprise at seeing me. For a few moments, I stood gaping at everything, unsure what I was supposed to do. Then Fani left a group of women and headed in my direction.

“You look very nice,” she said. “I knew you would.”

“
Gracias
. This is so beautiful.”

“Come, have a treat, a mimosa. You know what that is?”

I shook my head.

“It’s champagne with orange juice. Don’t worry. I won’t let you get drunk. This is not one of your cousin’s parties,” she added, and I smiled.

“I’m glad of that.”

She laughed, handed me a glass of mimosa, took my hand, and began to introduce me to people, simply calling me a girlfriend from school. I met presidents of banks, mayors and councilmen, very rich businessmen, builders and owners of chain stores, before she introduced me to her parents. Her father was a tall, slim, elegant man with a closely cropped goatee. It was from him that Fani inherited her dazzling ebony eyes, but it was clear that her mother, a strikingly beautiful woman with light brown hair and dainty features, had passed on the aristocratic demeanor and royal beauty that enabled Fani to stand out no matter where she was or how she was dressed.

Finally, I was introduced to Señor Bovio, the candidate, and his son, Adan, a young man about Edward’s age. I had taken only three sips of my mimosa, but the moment Adan looked at me and I at him, I felt my head spin. His father looked senatorial, firm, wise, and wittily charming, but Adan was one of the most handsome young men I had ever seen. Unlike Christian Taylor, however, he didn’t radiate any arrogance. Maybe because he was standing in his father’s shadow, he was quiet, polite, and even a bit shy.

If a group of girls my age were told to conjure a rock star or a movie star, they would create a duplicate of Adan Bovio, I thought. He had very sexy dark green eyes, which glittered like rich jade in the light cast by one of the electric simulated torches nearby. The lines of his face weren’t as male-model perfect as Christian Taylor’s, but Adan’s face, perhaps because of its small imperfections, was more manly, stronger. He was at least six foot one or two, with firm-looking shoulders under his tailored tuxedo jacket. I thought he had the sort of complexion that was just dark enough to look as if he had a permanent suntan.

I learned later that his mother had been an Italian movie star who was killed in a tragic car accident just outside Amalfi, Italy, only four years ago. She had been on location. Fani would tell me that the rag entertainment magazines made it seem like she had been having an affair with the director, who was seriously injured in the accident but not killed.

Adan was an only child, now working with his father in their oil and gas company, which had customers throughout the state.

“So, you are the famous Latina Cinderella,” he said when Fani introduced us. He held on to my hand as he spoke to me.

I looked immediately at Fani. I had never told anyone that I often felt like Cinderella, but she obviously had come up with it, too.

“Yes, I do feel that way sometimes,” I said, smiling. “Especially now.”

He stared at me, holding my hand. “Fani has told me how you have moved like a comet through the school, mastering English, becoming an honor student.”

Before I could reply, he leaned toward me and in a lower voice added, “Despite living with a cruel cousin.”

“I have had some help,” I said.

“I have been only to the fanciest places in Mexico, resorts in Acapulco, Ixtapa, Puerta Vallarta, but I have seen some of the poverty and hardship. I understand why Fani might think you a Cinderella. You must tell me about your life in Mexico. My father,” he said, eyeing him, “is always telling me to appreciate my heritage, especially now, since we’re trying to get the Latino vote,” he said a little louder.

His father shifted his eyes toward us but then looked away quickly to continue his conversation with some prospective donors to his political campaign.

“C’mon,” Fani said. “We’ve got about twenty minutes before we go to dinner. I’ll show you the grounds.”

“Am I invited?” Adan said.

“Of course,” she said, winking at me. “We always need a bodyguard.”

We walked through the grand lobby of the
hacienda
. It had a dome ceiling that reminded me of a grand church. We exited again through a side door and walked to where there were a half-dozen golf carts.

“You two sit in the rear,” Fani said. “I’ll drive.”

Adan helped me in and sat beside me. Fani started us off down a path toward the golf course and then wound around a garden and small pond to the tennis courts and the pool, but the most amazing thing to me was to see a helicopter on a helicopter pad.

“My father bought that a year ago. He hates being caught in traffic.”

“He flies it himself?” I asked.

“No. We have a pilot for that and for our plane.”

“Plane? Where’s the plane?” I asked, looking around.

Both Adan and she laughed.

“It has to be kept at the airport, silly. We have a lot of land but not enough for that, and besides, we couldn’t have an airport because of some zoning laws or something.”

I was speechless. Was there any end to the wealth of these people? No wonder she moved like someone walking on a cloud. To have all this money and be beautiful as well—it made me wonder what wonderful things her ancestors had done for them to inherit such happiness. Or was it all a matter of luck?

“Adan’s father has a plane, too,” Fani told me.

“Yeah, but your father’s plane is bigger than my father’s,” he said.

“You have a yacht. We don’t have a yacht. My father isn’t interested in a yacht,” she said.

“You have your own golf course and your own tennis court.”

“I don’t play golf much, and you have a tennis court.”

“Your pool is bigger than ours.”

“Your father owns horses, we don’t. My mother wouldn’t want horses on the property.”

“You want to trade houses right now?” he challenged.

Fani laughed.

I felt as if I were watching a ping-pong game being played with a ball made of gold. It wasn’t that long ago that I was proud of the fact that we had two bed
rooms in our small house and an old black-and-white television set that worked occasionally when the electricity worked.

“You’ll have to come to my house and make comparisons,” Adan told me. “Fani likes to pretend she’s modest, but she considers us the poor relatives.”

“Relatives?”

“My father is Fani’s father’s second cousin.”

“Third, but who’s counting?” Fani said.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were related,” I said.

“See,” Adan cried, “she never told you. She’s ashamed of us.”

Fani laughed harder and then swung the golf cart around sharply. I fell against Adan, who held me in his arm for a moment.

“She is so reckless,” he said.

I started to sit back again.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

I smiled but sat up and held on to the side of the cart until we pulled back into the cart parking area.

“Thank you for the tour,” I said.

“Yeah, thank you,” Adan told her. “It worked up my appetite.”

We went back into the house and followed the guests to the enormous dining room. Only in books had I heard of a table that could actually seat forty people, but this hand-carved dark cherry-wood table was dressed with gold-plated settings and sparkling silverware with goblets for the wine and water. There were more than a dozen waiters and waitresses ready to serve and pour the wine.

Fani led us to our seats. Adan sat between us, which meant I was seated beside his father on my left. He
immediately introduced himself to me again and began asking me questions about my life in Mexico.

“My family comes from Sonora. They owned a great deal of land just outside Hermosillo. Adan has been there a few times,” he said, looking Adan’s way.

“Yeah, right,” Adan said, obviously not happy about the visits.

“Perhaps you can help him appreciate his heritage better than I can,” his father said.

“Maybe she can, Dad. I think I would be more attentive to her than I have been to you,” Adan quipped, and his father laughed.

“Watch him. He’s as deadly as a scorpion when it comes to young women. He pretends to be harmless.”

“Hey, no fair. If you warn her, I’m at a disadvantage,” Adan said.

“I doubt that you’re ever at a disadvantage,” I said, perhaps too quickly, maybe because I had finished my mimosa and begun sipping the wine. I felt the flush in my face.

Adan’s father laughed, and Adan smiled. I looked at Fani, but she was in her own conversation with a man to her right. Adan turned his attention completely to me. He told me more about himself, the work he did with his father, and some of the traveling he had done.

“If my father gets the nomination and wins the Senate seat, I’ll have to work harder,” he said, “so I’m torn between hoping he wins and hoping he doesn’t.”

“That’s selfish,” I said.

He shrugged. “He knows. We don’t keep secrets. I suppose I’ll be proud if he wins, not that I’m not proud of him now. He’s always been a successful man.”

“He’s a good example for you to follow, then.”

“I know. Now, tell me about yourself and especially this war between you and your cousin.”

“It’s not a war, exactly,” I said, laughing.

“Oh, I know about women. It’s a war,” he assured me.

“It will take a long time to explain it,” I said, hoping to change the topic.

“Fine. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, and we’ll continue the story at dinner.”

Fani was listening to us now, a soft smile on her face.

“Oh, I can’t. We’re going to a big party tomorrow night,” I said.

“That’s all right. Adan will go with us,” Fani said. “Won’t you, Adan?”

“If I’m invited,” he said.

“Of course, you’re invited,” Fani told him.

How could she invite someone to someone else’s party? Wouldn’t he feel strange being invited that way?

“There,” he told me instead. “See how easy it is when you’re in Fani’s hands? If anyone can guarantee that you won’t be an overnight Cinderella, it will be Fani.”

“She doesn’t need my help, Adan. She’s quite capable of taking care of herself, even with you.”

He laughed and said, “Sure, go ahead and gang up on me. Two against one.”

“
Nosotros solo tratamos de hacer una lucha justa
. Right, Delia?” Fani said.

“
Sí, absolutamente
,” I said.

“Hey, that’s definitely not fair. You know I don’t speak Spanish that well,” Adan said.

“It’s your own fault. Your father has tried to get you to learn.”

“Well, what did she say?” he asked me.

“She said we are only trying to make it a fair fight.”

“Ha-ha. Haven’t you two ever heard the saying, all’s fair in love and war?”

“Oh, we’ve heard it, Adan. We know all about it,” Fani said. “And we plan on practicing it as well.”

“I’m in trouble,” Adan said, and drank some more wine. “But I have the feeling I’m going to like it.”

All three of us laughed so loudly we stopped some conversations and drew the amused looks of some of the guests. I didn’t know whether it was the mimosa and the wine or what, but I felt as happy as I ever had since I had left my grandmother. Maybe, just maybe, I, too, could end up living in a palace and forever be Cinderella.

Was that too much to ask? Was I filling up with too much pride and conceit?

Was the
ojo malvado
, the evil eye, watching and waiting somewhere in this grand room?

Fortified with the courage I gathered from my new rich and powerful friends, I gazed about, just daring it to show itself.

I was not the poor, innocent little girl whose heart was shattered years ago when she was dragged away from the only family and world she had known.

I was Delia Yebarra, I thought, and I was a raging river now. Señora Baca was right.

Yo no voy a ser derrotada
.

I would not be defeated.

B
efore dessert was served, Señor Bovio was introduced. He made a speech about his candidacy, why he was running, and how much he appreciated the support he was getting from the people present at this dinner and from the community. He pledged to give his candidacy a real and determined effort, and then introduced Adan, who stood up to applause.

“My son and I are partners in business and partners in life, in all either of us does,” Señor Bovio said, looking at Adan so proudly it brought tears to my eyes. “He’s going to watch my back as I go forward.”

Everyone clapped harder. Adan and his father hugged, and then Fani’s father stood and pledged his support, announcing that he was donating a quarter of a million dollars to Señor Bovio’s campaign. I think my mouth fell open. I had no idea how wealthy these
people were. He could buy my whole village and more with that donation, I thought.

I gazed around at these people, these men in their fine tuxedos and these women dripping with diamonds and gold. Look where I am, I thought. How did I get here? Where will I go from here?

The waiters and waitresses brought baked Alaska around for our dessert. Immediately afterward, guests approached Señor Bovio and either gave him envelopes with checks in them or pledges for money. The supporters and well-wishers surrounded Adan as well.

“C’mon,” Fani said. “We don’t have to stay here any longer.” She led me out and then to her room on what she called the east end of the
hacienda
.

For a moment, I thought I had entered a castle in some fairy tale. Fani’s bedroom was at least twice the size of Tía Isabela’s. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what her parents’ bedroom was like. She laughed at the expression on my face.

“I have never seen such a room, even in pictures.”

“It’s not my fault,” she said. “My father thinks I’m a princess. And don’t say I act like one, either,” she added before I could speak.

“I do not think even a princess has such a room or such a grand bed.”

“Probably not. My father had it custom-built. It’s a good two feet wider and longer than the normal California king-size bed.”

The four posters went all the way up to the ceiling. Carved in each were angels with their heads and eyes skyward, so that it looked as if they were ascending to heaven. The headboard was a work of art itself, depicting dawn, the sunlight waking the birds and opening
flowers. Whoever had done it truly had to have been an artist. It looked as if everything was in motion.

“How do you sleep in such a beautiful setting? There is so much for your eyes to feast upon.”

The bedroom had grand arched windows with light pink velvet curtains and gold sashes. There were two gold chandeliers with the most unusually shaped bulbs I had ever seen. They curved up at the ends and looked a little like the beaks of birds.

To the right was a sitting area with her own entertainment center, and to the left was a vanity table with a counter that ran at least ten feet to the entrance of her walk-in closet. It was twice the size of Sophia’s, with another vanity table and mirrors on the walls.

“I sleep very easily,” Fani said. “Everything in here was custom-made for my comfort, even this mattress,” she said, pressing down on her bed. “Go on, sit on it.”

I did. I really didn’t think it was that much more comfortable than my own, but I smiled and said it was amazing.

“Come in here,” she said, leading me into her sitting area. “Go on, sit,” she commanded, pointing to an oversize ruby-cushioned chair with gold tassels. “I have a bottle of white wine.” She went into her closet and returned with the bottle and two glasses.

I watched her remove the cork and pour the wine.

“Daddy put a little refrigerator in there for me,” she explained, “so I wouldn’t have to bother the servants or go down for something all the time. To thoughtful Daddy,” she said, and tapped my glass with hers.

We sipped the wine.

“So, did you enjoy the dinner?”

“Yes, very much. Thank you.”

“Personally, I couldn’t wait to leave. I thought it was a bit stuffy, everyone watching his or her table manners. I hate having to be so perfect all the time, but my mother keeps one eye on me and the other on everyone else. God forbid I have a strand of hair out of place.”

“My aunt was the same before I left tonight. She had to approve my clothes and my shoes, too.”

“Exactly. Everyone is so busy impressing everyone else that they forget who they really are. It’s like we’re all in a play and can’t miss a line.”

I nodded, even though I really didn’t expect to hear such a thing from Fani. In school, she looked as if she thought that was the most important thing, impressing everyone else, parading about as if she were truly on a stage.

“If you are true to yourself, you will probably impress anyone you care to impress,” I said.

She smiled and then narrowed her eyes and leaned toward me.

“I like you because you’re still innocent, natural, and honest,” she said. She sat back and waved the air beside her as if she were chasing a fly. “You probably won’t be for long, though.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll be like everyone else, worried about having friends, being popular. Don’t tell me you weren’t bothered by the cold shoulder you were being given at the beginning of the week,” she said.

“That was because of Sophia, because…”

“Doesn’t matter whose fault it was. You didn’t like it. You were very happy to be rescued. Lucky for you, I could do that.”

I felt myself stiffen, a cold chill actually crawling up my spine but turning into a hot flash when it reached my neck and face. I didn’t like being thought of as someone who needed to be rescued, and Fani sounded too arrogant about it.

“I don’t want to be friends with anyone who doesn’t really want to be friends with me, who will only be my friend because I suddenly seem important.”

“Then you’ll have no friends at all,” Fani said. “Don’t get too high on a horse. You’ll only fall farther down. Relax. Enjoy the moment. We had some fun, and maybe we’ll have some more. I don’t like your cousin and her friends, but I don’t particularly like anyone very much in that school.”

“Why not?”

“I told you. They’re all too worried about being popular, accepted, important.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t have to worry about it. I know I am,” she said without hesitation. “Now I’d like you to tell me about what happened, the incident with Bradley Whitfield.”

“Incident? He died,” I said. “That’s more than an incident.”

“You know what I mean,” she snapped, and then smiled. “How did he rape you? And don’t try denying it. I have my sources of information, or I should say Daddy does. Well?”

“It is not easy for me to talk about all that,” I said. “Please.”

“Oh, stop it. It’s over and done with. The Mexican boys are in jail, and one is dead, right? There’s no one’s feelings left to hurt.”

“Except mine,” I said.

“I did you a favor. You can repay it by telling me everything. I want to know every detail. When something like that happens to you, even the smallest things are significant. Well?”

I felt tears coming to my eyes. To talk about it was to relive it, and I was always afraid that I would say something to lead people to believe Ignacio was not dead.

“It is very painful to remember.”

She thought a moment. “Okay, I know what you can do. Pretend it happened to someone else. Pretend you are a reporter writing the story. First, how did he get you to go with him?”

I looked away. Why did she want to know all this? I took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to stop until I did tell her.

“He spoke Spanish well and acted as if he wanted to be my friend and help me find my way here in America. I thought he was very nice. One day, he picked me up when I was walking home from where the bus stopped, and he asked me to accompany him to check on a house he and his father were redoing to sell. I didn’t want to go, but he made it sound as if it would be very quick. He was Sophia’s boyfriend, so I didn’t think I should be afraid. I thought he simply wanted to impress me with his accomplishments, but when we got there…”

“Yes? What?” she said, leaning forward.

“He forced himself on me, held me down. It was horrible.”

“Where exactly did he do that?”

“Where? In the house…on the floor.”

“So…you didn’t enjoy any of it?”

“No,” I said, amazed at the question. “It made me feel dirty inside and out.”

She sat back, looking a little disappointed.

“He tried to get me not to tell, and then he tried to get me to go with other boys.”

“What a creep. I remember him well. He was a good-looking boy, and of course he wanted me to go out with him, but there was something about him that turned me off.”

“You were lucky.”

“He wouldn’t have dared try to do that to me,” she said. She stared at me a moment and then smiled. “What do you think of Adan?”

“He’s very nice and very good-looking.”

“He’s a man, not a schoolboy,” she said. “I’m sure he’s been with many women. I imagine that you are quite frightened about being with a boy since the rape, right? You probably have nightmares all the time.”

“No. I am sure not all boys are as cruel.”

She studied me again. “There isn’t anything really going on between you and your cousin Edward, is there? You can tell me. I don’t gossip. A secret is as good as locked in a vault when it is told to me.”

“Nothing like what Sophia is telling people. Edward is my best friend, and so is Jesse.”

“I didn’t think so. He doesn’t look AC/DC to me.”

“What is this AC/DC?”

“Someone who goes both ways. You know, a boy who likes boys and girls, too.”

I shook my head. “There are so many confusing things to know about boys and romance, I understand why some women want to become nuns.”

She thought that was very funny.

“I am not joking.”

“I don’t imagine you are. Come to me if you have any doubts or questions.”

“How did you learn so much? Have you had many boyfriends?”

“No, I haven’t had that many boyfriends, but I have a built-in sex-trap detector,” she replied.

“What is this thing, this detector?”

“It’s like an alarm that goes off here,” she said, pointing to her temple, “and tells me to back off, stay away from this one or that.”

“You were born with this?”

“Yes, it’s instinctive. When you are more experienced, you will be able to read boys better and know whom to trust and whom not to trust.”

“You are truly a very lucky girl to know so much,” I said.

We heard a knock on the door and turned to see Adan.

“May I come in, or is this one of those girls-only discussions?”

“If you mean are we talking about you, the answer is no,” Fani told him, and he laughed. “Is the party winding down?”

“Yes,” he said, entering. “My father did very well. You can’t run a real campaign without lots of moolah, especially if you are running for the United States Senate in California,” he added, directing himself more to me.

“This moolah is money?”

“
Dinero, mucho dinero
,” he said. He looked at Fani. “You’re wearing that all-too-familiar smirk, Fani.”

“You see what you want to see,” she told him.

“Yeah, well, I just came up to see if Delia needed a ride home. My father and I came in separate cars.”

“She doesn’t need a ride home, but she can let you take her home if that is what she wants. What do you want, Delia?” she asked, smiling.

“Oh…” I looked at Adan. “I don’t want to be trouble.”

“I doubt that he sees it as any trouble,” Fani said.

“No, of course not,” Adan added. “It’s not that far out of my way.”

“Depends what is your way,” Fani told him, and he laughed.

“C’mon, Delia. I had better get you out of here before she convinces you I’m a very dangerous Casanova.”

“You mean you’re not?” Fani said, and they laughed. I did, too, but mainly because they were laughing.

“Is this all right?” I asked her. “His taking me home? Your parents won’t be upset?”

“Hardly,” she said. “They are quite unaware of anything but what they are doing at the moment. Go on. We’ll talk tomorrow and prepare for the Johnson party. I understand your cousin was invited. She is going?”

“She says yes.”

“If Adan offers to take you to the party,” she whispered, “go with him. You won’t have to be with her that way.”

I said nothing, wondering what my aunt would think now.

We walked out and down the stairway so I could say good night to Fani’s parents and thank them.
They acted as if they didn’t know I had been there and barely looked at me. Fani gave me a “See what I mean?” look.

Adan had a beautiful teak-colored Jaguar convertible. Fani walked out with us, and I thanked her again for the invitation.

“You make sure she gets directly home safely, Adan,” she warned him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting, and opened the door for me.

“I mean it. She was my guest tonight, not yours.”

“Understood, commander.”

“Keep thinking about the sex detector,” Fani whispered when I sat in the car.

“Thank you.
Buenas noches
,” I told her.

She smiled and stood there to watch us drive off.

“How long have you been friends with Fani?” Adan asked as we turned out of the driveway and onto the street.

“Not long,” I said.

“I don’t think Fani has all that many friends,” he said. He looked at me. “Does she?”

“Most of the girls in the school want to be her friend.”

“Yes, but she knows it and plays hard to get. There must be something she likes about you for her to invite you to her home.” He smiled. “If Fani likes you, you have to be special.”

When I didn’t answer, he added, “I’ll have to find out what that is.”

It made me nervous to hear him say such things, so I asked him questions about himself and got him to tell me more about his youth, his education, and his work
with his father. He told me he had a business degree from the University of Southern California, and I told him that was where my cousin Edward now was, but I said little more about Edward. Even though I didn’t like to think about it, Sophia and her friends spreading nasty rumors made me more aware of mentioning Edward to anyone, especially if I spoke with pride and admiration about him. It made me angry that I had to be so frightened, but I was afraid someone might just think she was right and all the terrible things she was making up about us were true.