Delia's Heart

by V. C. Andrews

  “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.

  Adan wasn’t interested in hearing about any other man, anyway. He was just interested in me.

  “I really would like to hear more about your life in Mexico and your impressions about people here. I think I’ll take up Fani’s invitation to that party. How about I pick you up?” he asked as we turned up the street that would take us to my aunt’s hacienda.

  “I must see what my aunt says first. My cousin Sophia has been invited, too.”

  “Well, if we have to bring her with us, we can. I have three cars, and the two others are sedans.”

  “Three cars? Why do you need so many?”

  He laughed. “It’s not because I need them, Delia. I like cars. I’ll have more than three soon. I’m going to build up my personal car collection.”

  I shook my head in amazement. Back in my Mexican village, it would be wonderful to have a bottle-cap collection.

  “So, tell me, are there many boys asking you out?” he asked.

  “Not many.”

  “What, are boys shyer these days? I can’t imagine you being in my school and not asking you out. No grass grows on this rolling stone,” he said, pointing his thumb at himself. He smiled at me, but I couldn’t relax. “You look worried,” he said, reading the expression on my face.

  “I have not been here that long, Adan. I don’t always know how to respond or what to say.”

  “Sure,” he said. “That makes sense. I think it would be great fun to show you things, teach you things. You’re not one of these twisted sisters most girls your age are. You’re a fresh drink of water.”

  I laughed at that and then looked pensive quickly.

  “What?” he asked seeing my expression change.

  “I have been compared to water once before, a river.”

  “You can flow in my backyard any day you like,” he said, and laughed.

  I started to relax. Now he was the one who suddenly looked very serious.

  “I’m glad you were there tonight, Delia. You saw the beginning of something historic. My father is going to be a great man, not that he isn’t already; he’s just going to be appreciated finally. My family will be an important family in this state. We’ll be good people to know.”

  “Yes, your father is an impressive man, Adan. I understand why you are so proud.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “This is it, right?” He nodded at the entrance to Tía Isabela’s property.

  “Sí.”

  “Sí? I love it. Keep throwing in Spanish words whenever you can,” he said, and drove up to the front of the house. I was positive I saw Sophia’s curtain part so she could gaze out.

/>   Adan jumped out of the car and came around to open my door.

  “Gracias, señor,” I said, and he beamed.

  “Su casa es grande,” he said, nodding at the hacienda.

  “No es mi casa.”

  “Hey, you live here, it’s yours,” he said. He took my hand to lead me up the stairs to the front door. “I am delivering you safely,” he said, and made a grand bow. “Please tell my cousin I was a real gentleman.”

  He made me laugh.

  “Now, that’s better. You have a smile that would tame a wild tiger.”

  “Buenas noches,” I said, and reached for the doorknob. He caught my hand and turned me to him.

  “Buenas noches, Señorita México,” he said, and kissed me quickly on my lips and bowed again. “I’ll call you in the morning to make arrangements for the party, sí?”

  He was moving so quickly that I felt as if I had been running and had to catch my breath.

  “Sí?” he asked again.

  “Sí,” I said, and opened the door. He watched me enter the house. “Good night, and thank you,” I said softly, and closed the door. I had the feeling that if I opened it quickly, he would still be standing there.

  “Who brought you home?” I heard Sophia ask from the top of the stairway. “I saw you weren’t brought back in their Rolls-Royce.”

  At first, I thought I wasn’t going to answer, but I knew that would not put a stop to her questions. I started up the stairway.

  “He is a friend of Fani’s,” I said.

  “Who? I know all her friends.”

  “How could you know all her friends? You have never been to her home, have you?”

  “Big deal. I still know who she hangs with. Who was that?”

  I paused just a few steps beneath her. “Sophia, it is none of your business who I am with,” I said slowly and firmly.

  She glared down at me. I lowered my head and continued up the stairway. Just as I passed her, she reached out and seized my hair. With a short scream of frustration, she tugged so hard on me that I lost my balance and fell backward, slamming down on the corner of a step and turning over and over as I desperately reached out for the braces of the banister to stop my descent. I screamed in pain when my right foot got wedged in one of these braces and abruptly jerked me to a stop. I was nearly to the bottom of the stairway.

  Señora Rosario came running down the corridor first, followed by Señor Garman and then mi tía Isabela. I was groaning and trying to catch my breath while the pain shot up my leg and into my hip.

  “What on earth is going on here?” Tía Isabela asked.

  Before I could utter a response, Sophia took a step down and said, “She might be drunk or something. She tripped on a step and lost her balance.”

  “Drunk?” Tía Isabela said, looking at me.

  I shook my head. “No, it is not true, Tía Isabela.”

  Señora Rosario was at my side, trying to help me get up. In an instant, Señor Garman moved around her and literally lifted me to my feet, but I screamed with pain when I placed weight on my right ankle.

  “Maybe it’s broken,” he told Tía Isabela.

  “I’ll get some ice,” Señora Rosario said, rushing out.

  “What a mess, and this time of the night, too. I swear, you girls will be the death of me,” Tía Isabela said.

  Tears were now streaming down my cheeks.

  “I tried to stop her fall, but it happened so quickly,” Sophia said. “One minute she was walking up the stairs, and the next she was rolling down. I thought I was dreaming.”

  “You are dreaming,” I managed. “To lie so.”

  She dropped her hands to her hips and shook her head. “I’m not lying! Don’t you dare call me a liar! She’s drunk, Mother. Smell her breath.”

  I looked at Tía Isabela. I had drunk that glass of wine with Fani and imagined the scent of it might still be on my lips.

  She stepped toward me and stopped when Señora Rosario returned with the ice and placed it on my ankle, which already was looking swollen and red.

  “I don’t need to smell anyone’s breath. This is a ridiculous scene. Mr. Garman, take her to emergency care, and tell them to bill me,” she ordered. “You go up to bed, Sophia.”

  Sophia smiled contentedly at me. “Yes, Mother. That was what I was going to do before all this stupid commotion.” She turned and went up.

  “Lean on me, Delia,” Señor Garman said.

  “Keep the ice on it!” Señora Rosario called to us.

  I didn’t have to lean on Señor Garman. He practically carried me out of the house and down to the limousine. I sprawled out on the rear seat and closed my eyes. The pain in my ankle was now a dull throbbing rather than a stinging, but it was making me feel nauseous.

  “Just relax, Delia,” Señor Garman said, his voice more colored by sympathy than ever. “I’ll get you there quickly.”

  He did drive fast, and before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot. He came around and this time actually picked me up and carried me into the lobby. There were three other people sitting and waiting: a man with his head in his hands and an ice pack on the back of his neck and a woman with a young child who had been crying.

  The receptionist’s eyes widened when Señor Garman carried me up to the counter.

  “She has had an accident on a staircase and cannot put any weight on her foot,” he explained.

  “Take her in that door,” she said, getting up.

  A nurse came around to show him the way. I was placed on a thick cushioned bed.

  “Just keep that ice on your ankle,” the nurse said, looking at it, “until the doctor can get to you.”

  She asked Señor Garman to go out front and give the receptionist the information.

  I couldn’t believe I was there, that everything had happened so quickly. Just a little while ago, I was at the most expensive home and the most wonderful dinner party I could ever imagine. I was happy, excited, and floating on a magic carpet, and then, in an instant, it had all changed.

  Of course, my rage was directed at Sophia. Her temper had seized her, and she had been blinded with rage. Then, as always, she dipped into her bank of lies to come up with another excuse and escape from blame.

  It took so long for the doctor to come into the examination room I nearly fell asleep. The pain was duller but still quite loud, I thought.

  “Well, well,” the doctor said. “What do we have here?”

  I started to sit up, and he said just to relax. He looked at the ankle and turned it slightly. I howled with the new, sharper pain.

  “How did you do this?” he asked.

  I didn’t know whether it would cause even more trouble to tell the truth, so I simply said I had fallen on a stairway and caught my foot.

  “You’ll need an X-ray,” he said. “Just relax.”

  He went out, and a little while later, the nurse returned with a wheelchair and helped me into it.

  She took me to the X-ray room and helped me lie down. The technician set up my foot and took the pictures. I was then wheeled back to the room to wait. It seemed like another hour before the doctor returned.

  “You don’t have a broken bone,” he said. “It’s only a very bad sprain. You’re lucky.”

  Lucky? I thought, and nearly laughed.

  “I’ll wrap it for you. You’ll have to stay off it for a few days and keep it elevated for now. Just put some pillows under it when you go to sleep. When the swelling subsides, I’d like you to apply moist heat. You’ll be fine,” he said.

  “How do I stay off it?”

  “You can use crutches,” he told me. “We can provide you with them. Just have them brought back in a few days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by then.”

  He had the nurse bring me crutches.

  “Just try to keep your weight off it for a while,” she explained.

  I hobbled out to the lobby, where Señor Garman was waiting. The nurse told him what the doctor had determined and the doctor’s instr
uctions. He helped me into the rear seat again and fit the crutches beside me.

  “Good that it’s not broken,” he muttered, and we drove off.

  Suddenly, all of the pain and fatigue settled in me, and I actually fell asleep before we arrived at the hacienda. Rather than have me hobble up the stairway to the front door, Señor Garman scooped me up again and carried me like a baby. I was terribly embarrassed, but to him, I don’t think I weighed more than a baby.

  My aunt did not come out to see what had been done for me, but Señora Rosario appeared and listened as Señor Garman explained, still holding me in his arms. He carried me up the stairs to my bedroom and set me down just inside the door.

  “Remember the pillows under your ankle,” he said.

  I thanked him. I saw Sophia’s door opened just a crack and thought I caught her peering out at us. When Señor Garman turned to leave, she closed her door. I wished I had the strength to go at her, but all I could think of was getting into bed. It was now close to two-thirty in the morning. I fixed the pillows under my ankle and went to sleep so quickly I thought it was more like passing out.

  If anyone had come to see how I was, he or she did not wake me. It was my phone that finally woke me, and when I looked at the clock, I saw it was close to noon. It shocked me to see how late I had slept. When I turned to lift the receiver, my ankle reminded me that what had happened was not simply a nightmare.

  I croaked a hello.

  I heard male laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping, Delia,” Adan said.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” I said, “but not because I am lazy. I fell down the stairway last night and had to be taken to the emergency care. I have a badly sprained ankle.”

  “You’re kidding. How did you fall down a stairway?”

  “I was helped,” I said cryptically.

  He was silent a moment. “You mean, you were pushed?”

  “Pulled was more like it.”

  “Who did this? Sophia?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Adan.”

  “How horrible. I heard she was pretty bad, but this…can you still go to the Johnson party?”