“You’re lucky. He was in a charitable mood. My father probably could have fixed the ticket for you, anyway,” she said smugly. “He has fixed a few for me.”
“A few?”
“Policemen love giving tickets to beautiful women in fancy, expensive cars, Delia. Expect it,” she said. “So, what was this important chore?”
It seemed impossible to avoid lies in this world, I thought. If you were always honest, you were often in great danger, or someone you loved was. However, whether the lie was to protect someone else or to avoid hurting someone you loved, it was still a deception, and it still required you to be accomplished enough to convince the listener.
And then, of course, there were those who were experts at lying to themselves. Mi tía Isabela was the best one at doing this, I thought.
I had learned well from Sophia. The best liar was one who used part of the truth and first won the listener’s faith in what was being said, and the best way to do that was to pretend to be giving the listener some secret.
We went into Fani’s bedroom and to her sitting area. She sat first and waited for my response.
“It is something that would not please mi tía Isabela,” I said. “In fact, she has forbidden it, but I can’t help but do what I think is right.”
“What is it?”
I sat across from her. “Visiting the Davila family,” I said.
“The family of the boy who died?”
“Yes. I am very fond of Ignacio’s mother, and I was always saddened and troubled by what had happened.”
“So?”
“Today is Ignacio’s birthday, or what would have been,” I said.
Her eyes widened as she sat back. “Really? So you went to see her?”
“Yes, I have just come from there. They live up in Indio.” This was another part of the truth I could reveal.
“Well, it’s a very nice thing to do. I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you and rushed your visit, but if you would have told me right away…”
“I am so afraid, and now I have more reason to be,” I added.
“Why now?”
“I was followed to the Davila home.”
She stared and then brightened. “Your bitch cousin?”
“And Christian Taylor.”
“What did they say?”
“I didn’t speak with them. When I came out of the house, I saw they were there and they had followed. When I started away, I saw Sophia get out to talk to Ignacio’s brother, Santos. I’m sure she’ll run home to tell mi tía.”
“You did well to confide in me, Delia,” Fani said after a moment. “I can help you.”
“You can? How?”
She smiled, stood up, and went to a closet. I waited as she opened a box on the floor and sifted through some files. She pulled out something and returned to hand me a picture.
“This should help,” she said.
I looked at the picture. It was Sophia, maybe a year or so younger, naked on someone’s sofa with a boy named Gregory Potter. He was in our class, but I didn’t see him spend any time with Sophia or give any attention to her.
“How did you get such a picture?”
“It was about a year and a half ago, a wild party. Another boy in our class, Danny Rosen, has all this equipment. He took secret pictures. I found out and bought some from him.”
“Why?”
“First for my own amusement and then to have something on Sophia as well as some other girls.”
“Do they know?”
“Some suspect, but Sophia doesn’t. I haven’t had any reason to tell her yet, but now there’s a reason. She tells on you, you’ll tell on her, and what’s worse for her is that you can prove it. If Isabela Dallas thinks people can get pictures of her daughter in such a compromising way, she’ll not only be furious, she’ll have a nervous breakdown and probably ship Sophia off to some behavioral modification camp, maybe as far away as Europe or South America.”
“What is this camp?”
“A behavioral modification camp is one of these places they send very, very bad children, children whose parents can’t control them, and the children are basically imprisoned with no way out and no way to contact anyone. There was a boy in our school, Philip Deutch. He ended up in one of those places.”
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. I never heard, and he’s never been back. His family acts as if he never existed. I’m sure that would be the way Isabela would feel or want to feel. You have a lot of power there, Delia,” Fani said, nodding at the photograph in my hand. “Sophia doesn’t know if there are other pictures or where the negative is for that picture. It was actually taken with a digital camera, and it’s on a computer file. I don’t have the file, but I could get it for a price, I’m sure.”
“Is this why so many of the girls in our class are afraid of you, Fani?”
“Some. Others are just…frightened rabbits. Go ‘boo,’ and they’ll jump out of their shoes.” She sat.
I looked at the picture again and shook my head. “How terrible.”
“Disgusting, isn’t it? She’s a good fifteen pounds overweight, and the boy she’s with is a zero. Put it in your purse, Delia. As soon as you get home, you confront her. She might try to confront you first with a threat or some blackmail, I’m sure. Then you whip that out and tell her to fade into the woodwork, or else you’ll show the picture immediately to your aunt. If she wants to know where you got it, you can tell her it was from me. That will be more convincing and make her even more afraid, because she knows I don’t like her. It might be the end of all your troubles with her.”
I shook my head sadly and looked again at the picture. Tía Isabela would definitely have this nervous breakdown Fani described.
“It’s sad to have to live with your own cousin like this,” I said.
“How about living like this with your own daughter? If Sophia could blackmail her mother, do you think she would hesitate?”
I looked again at the picture. How could Sophia be caught this way? She was surely borracha, probably from vodka.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You’ll know you can do it the minute she threatens you. You want to protect the Davila family, too, don’t you? Stop being so weak. Put it away. Forget it for now. Let’s talk about Adan,” she said, pulling her legs up and under her. “He is a handsome man and quite a catch. I’ve played with the idea myself from time to time. We’re only third cousins or something, but he’s not for me.”
“Why not? Who is for you?” I asked, putting the picture into my purse.
“I’ll know when the time comes, when I’m ready. Let’s talk about you, not me. Do you like him a lot?”
“He’s very nice, yes. We’re going to dinner tonight,” I said, glancing at the clock.
“I know, and on his yacht tomorrow. He’s taking you to Catalina. You’re getting the full treatment. Adan doesn’t spend his full treatments on just anyone. I told you he liked you very much. This is becoming a real romance.”
She thought a moment. I thought she was studying me too closely, and it made me look away.
“Aside from this terrible experience you had, have you ever been intimate with a boy or a man, Delia? What about the Davila boy, the one who died?”
“I am embarrassed by such a discussion, Fani.”
“Get over it. You’re here now. You see the way the other girls are. No one has any bashfulness anymore.”
“What about you, Fani? Do you talk about your romances?”
She smiled. “I see. We’re going to play that ‘I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me’ game, huh?”
“No, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to play such games, but can’t we be friends and still keep some things private, Fani?”
She stared at me very intensely again and then nodded to herself. “You know something, Delia Yebarra,” she said, “you might just be different and authentic enough to win the heart of Adan Bovio. Okay.” She
stood. “Go on home and get ready for your hot date. If you want to confide any more in me, I’m here for you. And use that picture. If you’re too nice to do it, she’ll grind you into sawdust right at your aunt’s feet, and Adan Bovio or anyone like him will be a distant dream.”
“Thank you, Fani,” I said, rising. “I am indebted to you.”
“I know,” she said. “One day, I’ll ask you for a favor, I’m sure, and you can repay me.”
I couldn’t imagine having or doing anything Fani Cordova might need.
She walked me out to my car.
“Call me on Sunday,” she said, “unless you have the confrontation before you go to dinner tonight. I want to hear about it in detail.”
“I will.”
I got into my car and drove off, looking at her in my rearview mirror. She stood there watching me, and I wondered what her life was really like, this girl who had everything but seemed disinterested in her own life and more interested in manipulating the lives of other people, as if we were all pieces on a chess board. She was the one stuck in a castle living through fantasies, not me. I turned out of her gate to head home.
What would face me there?
The house was deceptively quiet when I entered. My heart was still thumping in expectation. I had half expected and feared that Sophia had gotten home already and gone right to mi tía Isabela. Both of them would confront me the moment I stepped into the entryway, but there were no signs of anyone, not even Señora Rosario or Inez. I moved quietly to and up the stairway. Walking down the hallway, I saw that Sophia’s door was shut. I hadn’t seen Christian Taylor’s car, so there was the possibility he had dropped her off and gone or that they were still not back.
I had my head down and was in deep thought about it all when I entered my bedroom, so I didn’t see Sophia there at first. I put my purse down and started to think about what I would wear to dinner. That was when she spoke up.
“Who else did you visit today?” she asked. I turned sharply and saw her lying on my bed, my pillows up behind her head. She wore a deep, self-satisfied smirk.
“What do you want?”
“You didn’t come right home, so who else did you visit? What, were you making the rounds, seeing all the families of your Mexican boyfriends?”
I didn’t answer.
“What I’d like to know,” she continued, “is how you got up there to visit the Davila family so often before you had the car. That bus ride has got to be close to an hour and a half with all the stops it makes. Don’t try to deny you’ve been visiting them, either. Ignacio’s simple-minded brother revealed it. I had the feeling he’s not all that crazy about you. Well? I want some answers, and fast. My mother is not going to be very pleased when she finds out you’re still so friendly with those Mexicans.”
Fani was right, I thought. Sophia was capable of driving me down to places so dark inside myself that I did not realize or believe they were there. I wanted to do more than show her the picture and counter her threats with threats of my own. I wanted to wring her neck, to toss her out of the window and out of my life. She put a hot poker into my heart and set me afire. Seizing my purse, I stepped toward her. The look on my face actually frightened her.
“You’d better not swing any footstools or anything at me, Delia, and you’d better not put any of your Mexican curses on me, either. I mean it,” she said, but pulled herself back into a defensive posture.
“I won’t throw any stools, and you put curses on yourself. You don’t need me to do it. I need not tell you anything, and you will do nothing to hurt or displease me,” I said.
That sent a smile rippling through her face, curling the corners of her mouth. “Or else what, Delia?”
“Or else your mother will see more of this, as well as other students at school and who knows who else,” I said, plucking the picture out of my purse and tossing it onto the bed. It fell facedown at her knees.
She studied me a moment and then slowly picked it up and looked at it, her face collapsing in defeat and fear.
“How did you…where do you get this?”
“Fani Cordova,” I said. “She has them all, many copies to hand out whenever I tell her to do so.”
She glanced again at the picture. “Who took this?”
“What difference does it make? You think your mother would go rushing out to buy you your car or end your punishment if she saw that and more pictures of you like it? And if the boys at school saw such pictures, would you want to stay there?”
I could see the defiance and strength drain from her face the way I might see water disappear from a glass with a crack at the bottom.
“You’re disgusting,” she said.
“I am only what you make me be,” I said. “You can have that picture. As I said, there are many others. Take it, and get out of my room, and never, ever follow me with Christian Taylor or anyone. I don’t want to hear the Davila name come from your lips in this house or anywhere. They have suffered enough, thanks to what you and your girlfriends did that terrible night, stirring up Ignacio and his friends.”
She slipped off the bed but kept her distance from me. “I tried to be your friend and get my friends to like you,” she moaned.
“The way a spider befriends a fly. No, gracias.”
“You’ll be sorry. You’ll see,” she said. “Fani will betray you, too. When she gets bored with you, she’ll toss you off like some empty bag.”
“Don’t worry about me. I don’t depend on anyone here,” I said. “Friends here sway too easily in the wind. You know that, too, and you will see it all your life.”
“Right. You know everything, as usual,” she said. “You can tell Fani Cordova that if she shows any pictures like this, I’ll get her good.”
She tore the picture into pieces and threw it at me before running out of my room. The pieces floated down to my feet. I heard her door slam, and then I picked up the pieces and put the pile into a corner of a dresser drawer. Someday I might put them together again like a puzzle, I thought. She was mean-hearted but cowardly and stupid.
To calm myself as much as anything, I took a hot shower and washed my hair. It was getting later, and I had to prepare myself for my dinner date. Despite my liking Adan, my heart was heavy, and I was afraid I would be terrible company both tonight and tomorrow. I considered getting myself out of going sailing with him, but then I realized that would disturb Tía Isabela and might stir up some suspicions.
Sophia was defeated tonight, but she was not simply going to retreat. She would hover in the corner and in the shadows, waiting for some opportunity to strike back at me. I must do nothing to give her that opportunity, I thought. If anything, I had to be even more careful.
I fixed my hair and chose my dress and shoes and a pair of earrings. The makeup I wore was still quite understated compared with what Sophia and the other girls at school wore. I was still at my vanity table when Tía Isabela knocked and entered my room. I turned in fearful anticipation, worried that despite it all, Sophia had decided to tell her mother where I had been.
“Very good, Delia,” Tía Isabela said, inspecting me. “You chose the right dress to wear, and I like what you’ve done with your hair and makeup.”
“Thank you.”
“I had occasion to meet Adan’s father today,” she continued, coming farther in and sitting. “Apparently, Adan has told him a great deal about you. His father is impressed and happy about it. These days, the families of candidates for high office are scrutinized almost as much as the candidate. I’m here to tell you that you should expect people, photographers and reporters, will pay more attention to you. You must think carefully before you speak, especially if you are asked any questions about your family or about the terrible thing that happened to you here.”
So, that was the reason she was being so friendly. She wasn’t pleased so much with me as she was worried about herself and her reputation. How fortunate I was to have Fani give me that picture and stop Sophia before she planted the st
ory in mi tía Isabela’s mind. She would certainly see it as a threat to her image and reputation, and the explosion would have been so great all of us would have suffered.
“I will,” I promised.
“No. I mean you must be careful,” she emphasized. “They are bound to ask you questions about the death of Bradley Whitfield. You simply say you’ve been told by our attorney not to discuss it.
“And if they ask you about your life in Mexico, our family,” she added, surprising me with the word our, “don’t make them sound so poor and uneducated. You can say your father was a foreman in charge of many men.
“Of course, you can tell them about our home here, our grounds, the nice things you have, and how wonderful it has been to be here and have these opportunities. Comprende?”
“Sí.”
She rose. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some reporter from a Spanish newspaper approaches you. It would be fine to speak to him in Spanish.”
“Where will all these reporters and questions happen?”
“Anywhere! That’s the point I’ve come up here to make. Because Adan’s father is now such an important figure, they’ll be looking for material, for things to write. You look very nice. You’ve been taught how to behave in society. You will continue to make me proud,” she said, making it sound more like an order than a conclusion.
She paused at the doorway.
“Did my daughter behave today, or did she and Christian do something I should know about?”
“I will not spy on Sophia, Tía Isabela,” I said firmly. I would never forget how she used me to spy on Edward, and she knew it, too.
“I’m not asking you to spy. You have to help me with her, help us both now. Never mind. Just continue to get yourself ready for your date,” she said, and left.
If I had ever felt as if I were moving through a minefield, I felt it now. Suddenly, every word I said, every little thing I did, would be magnified and have some importance or possibly a disastrous result. Worrying about it all, I remembered I had promised to call Fani with the results of my confrontation with Sophia.
She listened and said something that frightened me. “She gave up too easily.” She actually sounded disappointed. “At least, I expected she would challenge you to show the picture to your aunt. You’d better keep your eyes and ears open and watch for some trap she’ll set. I’ll talk to you on Sunday, and we’ll think and plan some more. Besides, I want to hear how your weekend with Adan went. Have a good time.”
Delia's Heart Page 19
