Delia's Heart

by V. C. Andrews

I went to sleep thinking of those sentences. “It’s good to hear your laugh, Delia. It’s like music.”

  I used to go to sleep thinking of Ignacio.

  When I went down to breakfast in the morning, I was surprised to find Sophia already dressed and waiting. Tía Isabela had yet to come out of her bedroom. She would be pleased, I thought. Sophia was dressed quite differently from the way she usually dressed for school. She wore a very nice light yellow skirt and matching blouse, had her hair brushed and pinned, and again wore hardly any makeup. She wore a pair of earrings that actually were coordinated with her outfit, too. Instead of her usual dreary, half-sleepy self, she was bright and cheery.

  “Good morning, Delia. I told Mrs. Rosario to make you her scrambled eggs. I know how much you like them. You need a good breakfast today. It’s a big day for you,” Sophia said. “Driving your own car to school. How lucky you are. But I’m not jealous,” she added quickly. “I know my mother will be buying me my own car soon. With your help, I’ll get my school grades up. You’ll want that to happen. That way, you won’t have to drive me everywhere, and you can take someone else in your two-seater.” She winked.

  “I’ll help you in any way I can with your work, Sophia, but I can’t take the tests for you. You have to spend more time studying.”

  “Oh, I will. I will,” she promised.

  Señora Rosario brought out my scrambled eggs.

  “Gracias, señora.”

  She glanced at Sophia and gave me a subtle look of warning. I nodded.

  “No se preocupe,” I told her. I wanted to assure her that she did not need to worry about me. “Antes se atrapa al mentiroso que al cojo.”

  She laughed.

  “What did you say?” Sophia demanded.

  “I thanked her for the eggs and told her she made them just like my grandmother used to make them,” I said, which was, of course, ironic because it was a lie. What I really had said was “It’s easier to catch a liar than a cripple.”

  For Sophia, who was so accustomed to lies and lying, it was also ironic that she could be fooled so easily. Perhaps she had left the truth so far behind that she could never find it again.

  “Good,” she said. “Very good, Mrs. Rosario. Thank you.”

  Señora Rosario couldn’t hide her smile, so she quickly left.

  “You know,” Sophia said, leaning toward me to whisper, “I really do have to pay more attention in Spanish class as well. I should learn how to speak it so I know when the employees are saying things behind our backs.”

  “There are better reasons for you to learn how to speak Spanish, Sophia,” I said, laughing.

  Tía Isabela was also surprised to see Sophia up and ready for school so early and so well dressed. She looked at me as if I had been somehow a good influence. I felt guilty about taking any credit for any change in Sophia that was good.

  “What are you doing today, Mother?” Sophia asked, which was something I had never heard her ask. She usually had no interest in her mother’s business affairs or even her social life. Tía Isabela’s eyebrows lifted.

  “We’re closing on a strip mall, Sophia. Do you know what that means?”

  “No.”

  “We’re going to own it, and everyone, all the stores in it, will be paying us rent. It’s a steady stream of income.”

  “Damn, there is so much I have to learn,” Sophia said, shaking her head and finishing her coffee. “I’ll just be a minute, Delia.”

  She hurried out to the stairs.

  Señora Rosario brought Tía Isabela her juice and coffee and her newspaper.

  “I think I’ll have your famous scrambled eggs, too, this morning, Mrs. Rosario.”

  “Very good, Mrs. Dallas.”

  She hurried back to the kitchen. Tía Isabela and I looked at each other. She smiled.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Delia, but take my advice, accepting even the illusion of happiness and hope is better than the alternative. It enables you to go on. Comprende, señorita?”

  “Sí, Tía Isabela.”

  Why shouldn’t I understand? I thought.

  That was exactly what I was doing now and had been since the day I had arrived.

  11

  Driving Sophia

  One of my Mexican classmates in the ESL class at the public school I attended when I first arrived here had told me the easiest way to make new friends in America was to have a car. I quickly discovered she had not been exaggerating. With the speed of a lightning bolt, Sophia spread the news about my driving her to school in the sports car her brother, Edward, had bought for me. I could practically feel the way the other students were now looking at me. Many who usually hardly said a word to me smiled and tried to start conversations. It was as though I had been accepted into a private club.

  It amused me to hear the way Sophia described the car to her friends, emphasizing “we” with everything. She also made it clear that now that I had a car, her mother was soon going to buy her one. In fact, Tía Isabela, according to Sophia, was already researching models and prices.

  “You know my mother,” she told Alisha and the girls who had gathered outside the Spanish classroom. “She has to be sure she’s not being ripped off and that she makes the best possible deal. She has friends in the automobile business. In fact, she bawled out Edward for not coming to her first before he spent the money on Delia’s car. She could have saved him thousands, not that he cares.”

  She also let some of her friends believe that I would soon be willing to let her use my car.

  “Until I get my own,” she emphasized.

  Overhearing Sophia’s conversations amused me, but they also confirmed that she was not going through any real personality changes. Her sweet talk and her smiles for me were like flies hitting a closed window. I doubted there would ever be a time when I would open it and let her inside, a time when I would trust her with anything more than hello.

  Christian Taylor was quite impressed with my car. During the lunch hour, he went outside with some of his amigos and looked it over. Sophia tried to get me to give her the key so she could show the car to Christian and his friends, but I politely told her I would rather not.

  “Then you come out and show it to them,” she urged.

  “I want to do some reading for social studies,” I told her. “Maybe later.”

  “You’ve got to learn how to relax, Delia. You’re too intense. Social studies class won’t go away.”

  “Maybe later,” I repeated, and she pouted.

  “You know,” she said, “you could meet me halfway. I’m trying to be a better cousin.”

  Halfway, I thought, recalling something Edward had once told me. “You give my sister an inch,” he had said, “and she won’t just take a foot. She’ll take all of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I do not like Christian Taylor. I’d rather ignore him.”

  “He’s just another boy. Don’t get so uptight about him,” Sophia advised. “I can handle Christian Taylor.”

  “I can handle a rattlesnake,” I said. “In fact, I have, but I’d rather not.”

  “You have?”

  “Where I lived, you learn to get along with everything in nature. If you leave them alone, they will leave you alone, unlike Christian Taylor. Snakes may be smarter than us. They’d rather ignore us.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you.”

  “Work harder in Spanish class,” I said. I knew it wasn’t what she meant, but I was feeling more confident and wanted to tease and frustrate her.

  She made a face and walked off, but at the end of the day, she was waiting at my car with her girlfriends.

  “It’s a beautiful car, Delia,” Trudy said. “I bet it can go very fast.”

  “Too fast,” I said, “if you’re not careful.”

  “Who wants to be careful?” Alisha said, and they all laughed.

  I unlocked the doors, and Sophia opened hers and stood there smiling at her friends.
<
br />   “Just feel the leather,” she told them, and stepped back so each could touch the seat.

  I got in quickly and started the engine. “We must go home now,” I said.

  “Right. Talk to you all later,” Sophia told them. “Do you want to stop for a frozen mocha or something, Delia?” she asked, loudly enough for them all to hear, before she closed the door. “I’ll buy them for us.”

  “No, thank you, Sophia. Your mother might be waiting for us.”

  “She’s probably at some meeting.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “It’s better we just go straight home as we promised.”

  “Can you put the top down, at least?”

  I thought about it and nodded.

  The girls squealed with delight when they saw the roof lift up and go back. Sophia sat back, gloating.

  I drove us out slowly, and it was lucky I did so, too, because before we reached the entrance to the parking lot, Christian Taylor stepped in our way, smiling. I had to hit the brakes fast.

  “Estupido!” I screamed at him.

  He laughed and leaned over the car. “Wow. Isn’t this too much car for a girl like you? I know I’m too much man.”

  “You’re the only one who knows it,” I told him, and accelerated.

  He leaped back, and Sophia roared with laughter.

  “Now you’re turning into my kind of girl,” she said. “Cousin.”

  I looked at her and back through the rearview mirror at Christian, who was complaining to his friends. Sophia turned on the radio loudly and lit a cigarette.

  “You want one?”

  “No,” I said. “I am not that kind of girl,” I said. “I am sorry for my behavior, but he makes me…”

  “I know what you mean,” Sophia said. “You don’t have to explain when it comes to Christian Taylor or any other boy, for that matter.”

  It seemed no matter what I said, she would find a way to become my new pal, and all because of the car.

  I drove on, fuming inside.

  Adan called that night to see how I did, and we talked for almost a half hour. He was very excited about an important political endorsement his father had received. He said it was looking good for him to receive some labor and police endorsements as well.

  “I’m beginning to think my father could really win,” he said, which surprised me.

  “Didn’t you think so before?”

  “I hoped, but now it’s more than hope. There’s a big Latino vote in this state, and we’re going to get a sizable portion of it,” he added. “But that’s all boring stuff. I’d rather talk about you.”

  If he could see through the phone, he would see a very thoughtful face and not a face full of delight. Every warm feeling I had for him and every moment of pleasure we had together were truly like pins in my heart because of my feelings for Ignacio. Later, when I went to sleep, I dreamed he had heard about Adan and me and it had driven him to become a criminal in Mexico. His family, especially his father, cursed me. I woke gasping and nearly cried because of how vivid the nightmare had been.

  My letter to Ignacio still lay under my panties in my dresser drawer. I struggled to come up with a way to drive to the Davilas’ home, but with Sophia clinging so closely to me now, it was difficult. I had been hoping that my company, even in my sports car, would bore her eventually, but she was still basking in the glow and enjoying the way her girlfriends envied her. Finally, on Thursday, she asked me for a favor I was perhaps too eager to grant.

  “My mother is at a meeting in Los Angeles today and won’t be home until evening. She told me last night after dinner,” she said as we drove to school. “We can go meet my girlfriends at Alisha’s house for a while. It will be fun. We can talk and have something to drink and listen to music and—”

  “No, I cannot go there,” I said. “I have too much to do.”

  She was quiet until we were nearly to the school.

  “Okay, but will you at least do me a favor and not tell on me? I’ll go home after school with Alisha, and she’ll bring me home at dinnertime.”

  “What you do and where you go are not my business,” I replied, instead of saying I would lie for her. It was enough to please her.

  “You’re making a mistake not coming with us after school,” she said when we parked. “But,” she added quickly when I started to look angry, “that’s fine as long as you don’t go blabbing to my mother. We have to trust and help each other if we’re to be real cousins, Delia.”

  “Tía Isabela did not ask me to spy on you,” I said. “What I don’t know I don’t know.”

  She smiled. “Good. Have a nice day,” she said, getting out.

  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.”

  “Yeah, conducive. You know that word? It means favorable for what we wanted. Right, Trudy?” she asked before I could respond.