Delia's Heart

by V. C. Andrews

  “You could live on this boat,” I said, and he laughed.

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it from time to time. C’mon, let’s get started.”

  We went back upstairs, and he got the engines going. He was very proud of the boat and couldn’t stop explaining and describing everything about it. Soon he realized he was going too quickly and too far over my head.

  “Don’t worry about any of it,” he said, laughing again. “You’re here to enjoy the day, not buy the boat.”

  “Buy the boat?” I couldn’t imagine anyone having enough money to do so.

  He smiled and began to take us out to sea, moving slowly at first. I could see from the concentration in his eyes that when it came time to do what had to be done, he was very serious and precise. Then he smiled a little impishly and sped up. We bounced over the waves so hard I screamed. But it was very exciting. After a while, he let me steer the boat and taught me some of the most basic things. I had no idea how much time had gone by, but when we were far enough out, he cut off the engines and said it was time for a cool drink. He lowered the anchor and we returned to the galley, where I saw the refrigerator had been stocked with far more food than we could eat.

  “There’s cold lobster salad, shrimp salad, cold cuts, a Greek salad, breads, delicious desserts, and champagne if you want any. You ever had a mimosa?”

  “Yes. I know what it is,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll make you one. For today, I’ll be the waiter. You go up to the deck and make yourself comfortable. You have your bathing suit?”

  “Sí,” I said, already blushing at the thought of stripping down to it.

  “Perfect. It’s going to get hot. Even just dipping into the sea will be delightful.”

  I went up to the deck. The boat bobbed in the ocean but not badly. He was right about how hot it felt with no clouds and the sunlight reflected off the surface of the ocean. Very self-consciously, I took off my outfit and spread one of the large terry towels on a chaise. There was even sunscreen set out for us. I rubbed it into my much-exposed body and lay back on the chaise. Except for the occasional sound of a tern or another motorized boat in the distance, it was peaceful. The movement of the boat quickly lulled me into a comfortable daze, bordering on sleep. I didn’t even realize Adan had come up with a tray carrying two mimosas in champagne-style glasses and a platter of cheese, fruit, and crackers. When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing there gazing at me.

  “Oh,” I said, sitting up.

  “You are truly a beautiful girl, Delia. Woman, I should say.”

  “Gracias, Adan.”

  “Here, try one of these.”

  He set the tray on a small table and organized a chaise for himself. I sipped the drink. It was refreshing and didn’t taste at all like anything alcoholic, but I knew it was, of course.

  “It’s good?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice drink for this time of the day.”

  He took off his shirt and pants. His body was lean and tan.

  “I was on the swimming team in college,” he explained before I could even think of complimenting him. “I’m still always training.”

  “I’m not much of a swimmer. We swam in a small lake near the village sometimes, but not much more than that.”

  “So, your village was inland?”

  “Sí. The biggest industry is the soybean farms. My father was a manager on the biggest one.”

  “And he and your mother were killed in an accident caused by a drunken driver.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I know you don’t like to talk about it. I don’t like to talk about my mother’s death, either. I’m sure they wouldn’t want us to dwell on it. They’d want us to be happy,” he said. “No más,” he added. He reached for the sunscreen and began rubbing it into his body. “You put some of this on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Turn over, and I’ll put it on your back and the backs of your legs. It doesn’t take long to wish you had,” he added.

  “Gracias,” I said. He rubbed in the lotion, taking his time. I felt his fingers over my upper thighs, moving all around my legs.

  “We don’t want anything bad to happen to this skin,” he said. He even did my ankles.

  I turned around, and he smiled and drank some of his mimosa.

  “We need music,” he cried, and turned on the boat’s stereo system.

  The radio went on immediately to a Mexican station, and he came out dancing. He beckoned for me to join him, and I did. In minutes, we were both laughing, drinking more mimosas, and eating some of the fruit and cheese. Every once in a while, another boat would draw near, and the driver would play his horn. Most of them had tunes instead of just a blaring noise. The people aboard would wave and scream. It seemed as if everyone on the ocean had been invited to the same party.

  I didn’t know how much time went by. I didn’t think about it, but at one point, Adan decided it was too hot, and he dove into the sea. He beckoned for me to join him, to climb down the ladder and dip myself at least. I was afraid, but he called and called until I inched myself down the ladder and, still holding on to it, lowered myself into the ocean. He swam over to me, and we bobbed about. I was screaming half in delight and half in fear when he kissed me and kept his arms around my waist.

  “I’ve got you,” he said. “You can let go of the ladder. Go on. Swim a little, so you can say you’ve swum in the Pacific. Go on,” he urged, until I did let go, swam a few feet, swallowed some salt water, and gagged. He immediately wrapped his arm around my waist and brought me back to the ladder.

  “You have to keep your mouth shut, silly,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded, but I had been shocked enough to want to go back up the ladder. He helped me, and I flopped onto the chaise. I quickly discovered that the bathing suit mi tía Isabela had bought me wasn’t really made for swimming. It was translucent. My breasts, my nipples, were as exposed as if they were uncovered. I seized another towel as he climbed up the ladder and threw it over me quickly.

  “Wasn’t it great?” he asked, grabbing a towel for himself.

  I nodded.

  “You did okay for the first time. Cold?” he asked.

  “A little,” I said.

  “You’ll warm up in minutes,” he promised. “I’ll get us moving again. I want you to see Catalina. Rest,” he told me, and went to bring up the anchor and restart the engines.

  I did dry quickly and was soon warm again. As my bathing suit dried in the sun, it became less translucent. I was soon comfortable enough with myself to join him at the helm. I took the other seat and enjoyed the ride, once again steering the boat, too. He pointed to Catalina when it came into view. He explained that he was going to rent a slip, and then we could get off the boat and walk in the village, visit the shops, and when we were ready, return to the boat for our lunch.

  The fun and excitement, the new things I learned and discovered, all conspired to drive back any thoughts of Ignacio or my life in Mexico. This is how el diablo wins our souls, I thought, but it was only a fleeting thought. When we docked the boat, I put my clothes on over my suit, and we got off to walk through the village. Adan bought me souvenirs, a funny sun hat and two T-shirts from Catalina.

  Afterward, when we returned to the boat, I insisted that I be the one to prepare the lunch. He set the table, and we had more mimosas and a wonderful lunch, talking and watching the tourists and the other boats and listening to our music. Afterward, while I cleaned up, he sprawled on a chaise, and when I returned, I found he had fallen asleep. I sat in a shady area and dozed a little myself. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. I worried about nothing, thought about nothing serious, and had never felt as relaxed.

  He woke and told me we would start back to Newport. We were both more subdued during the return trip. He talked again about his future, his father’s ambitions, and all of the possibilities that seemed to lie out there on the distant horizon. When we reached the dock in Ne
wport, the day had cooled but was still very pleasant. He told me about the reservation he had made at a great steakhouse on the beach.

  I went down to take a shower and wash the salt off my body and out of my hair while he spoke with the man who was caretaker for the boat. Wrapped in a large towel, I came out and sat at the vanity table in the master bedroom, where I brushed out my hair. I saw him come down the stairs and stand for a moment watching me. He approached slowly, took the brush from me, and started to brush my hair. Neither of us spoke.

  Then he stopped and leaned to bring his lips to my neck. The tingle that went down my spine seemed to form into fingers that sent a warmth over me. He held my shoulders and then slowly lifted me until I turned to accept his kiss. I felt the towel slip away from my body. Like someone trying to resist, he kept his eyes on mine, and then his hands moved over my breasts and down around my waist as he drew me into another kiss. My resistance softened. He whispered my name and told me how beautiful I was. I thought I had said, “No, please stop,” but perhaps it was only in my imagination. He didn’t appear to hear or sense any restraint. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, covering my body quickly in kisses, his lips moving lower and lower.

  I mustn’t let this happen, I thought. I even pictured myself standing at the side of the bed and shaking my head, but I only weakened more and closed my eyes. His lips were on mine again, his body naked and firm against me.

  And then, like a streak of lightning across my eyes, I saw Ignacio’s face.

  Back in Mexico, he had stood with me at the bus door until the driver said it was absolutely time to go.

  “Don’t go rushing into another marriage before I get back,” he had said.

  “I won’t,” I had promised.

  “I will cross again, Delia, even if I have to battle the desert to get to you.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” I had said, and we had kissed.

  “Wait!” I cried suddenly. “Please.” Adan paused and lifted his head to look down at me.

  “I really like you, Delia. You can trust me,” he said. “I know you have not had good experiences with men, but I am different. I promise.”

  I took a deep breath, gathering my wits. I should have told him about Ignacio then and there, but instead, like some frightened young girl, I said, “Please, wait.”

  He smiled. “Sure,” he said. “I understand. I can be patient, because I know how wonderful you are and what lies at the end of the rainbow.”

  Recoiling himself like the anchor he had pulled up from the sea, he sat back, took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “I’m taking a cold shower.”

  He went into the stall, and I quickly hurried to put on my clothes. Since he didn’t force himself on me and try to persuade me to end any resistance, he was surely a good man, I told myself. I felt bad, and when he came out of the shower, I tried to be as pleasant and affectionate as I could. He dressed for our dinner, and we walked off the boat to the restaurant, where he had reserved a table that looked out on the ocean. We had a wonderful dinner, neither of us talking about what had just almost happened.

  Later, the full day in the sun, the champagne, the food, all of it, finally caught up with me. I fell asleep during our ride back to Palm Springs and woke with a start when we were on the main street. He laughed, and I apologized.

  “It’s okay. I liked watching you sleep, Delia. You look like an angel.”

  From where did he get all these wonderful lines? I hoped they were sincere and from his heart and not some book instructing him how to win the love of a young woman.

  It was late when we arrived. Mi tía Isabela’s hacienda was very quiet. I remembered that she had told me she would not see me until late breakfast in the morning. Adan walked me to the door, where we kissed good night, and I thanked him for a most wonderful day.

  “No,” he said. “It is I who thank you for the day. Nothing I have brings as much pleasure without you. You make it all complete, Delia. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  His words took the breath from me, and I could only nod, kiss him again, and go inside. When I closed the door behind me, I juggled mixed feelings in my heart and mind. In one sense, I felt as if I had escaped making a commitment I would regret, and in another sense, I felt guilty for letting Adan believe I was just asking him to move slower.

  Was I becoming more like mi tía Isabela than I would like? Was I lying to myself, using people, being unfaithful to the things that were true and important? Was it because I lived in this house and had this new life? Had the old Delia slipped away? Did I really leave her behind at that bus station? Was I fooling myself in thinking otherwise?

  A day like this should fill a heart with only joy, not more turmoil and trouble, I thought. I should not be feeling so sad. I plodded up the stairway with my back bent and my head lowered, as if I were carrying a weight on my shoulders. I thought I would fall asleep before I could brush my teeth. I had just prepared my bed and was about to get into it when Sophia opened my door. She had obviously just come home herself.

  “Well, I’m sure I don’t have to ask you if you had a good time,” she said when I turned.

  “I did,” I said. I wasn’t in any mood to argue with her or trade insults, so I continued to slip into my bed and pull my light blanket up as I adjusted my pillow. “I’m very tired, Sophia. Let’s talk in the morning.”

  “Oh, I’m not here for a long conversation, Delia. Don’t worry. Christian and I had an interesting day, too, and I thought you’d like to hear about it. Just close your eyes and listen, if you like.”

  “Please, in the morning,” I said.

  She came farther into the room. “So, we went to that park where all the Mexican kids go to play ball, you know, and watched some baseball game. That Davila boy is a good baseball player.”

  I opened my eyes.

  “Got your attention? Good. Yes, he hit a home run, and he was the pitcher on the team, too. Afterward, they have a picnic. The young boys sneak some, what do you call it, cerveza? Boy, what’s his name, Santos? He can put it away. He outdrank Christian the big shot. Not me, of course. I don’t drink cerveza.”

  I just stared at her.

  She smiled. “We took him home. He wanted a ride in Christian’s new BMW. You still want me to wait until the morning?”

  “What is it you want, Sophia?” I asked, holding my breath.

  “Why would you be bringing his mother a letter?” she asked. Something in her tone of voice told me she didn’t know. “Well? Were you giving her money in an envelope? Money you took from us? Were you?”

  “Didn’t I specifically tell you not to mention the Davila family or have anything more to do with them?” I asked. “Did I not tell you that?”

  “If you or Fani show any of those pictures to anyone, my mother will go to the police for sure. Fani will be in big trouble, despite her father’s money, and you, you will be deported or something. Christian told me to call your bluff.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll let Fani know tomorrow. She doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do herself, and she doesn’t frighten too easily. We’ll see.”

  She stared at me. “I bet that’s what you were doing, right? You were giving them money. How much have you given them?”

  I just stared at her.

  “I’ll find out eventually, you know, so you might as well tell me now. Maybe I won’t tell my mother.”

  “You’re like Fani, Sophia. You will do what you want to do, no matter what I tell you, and if you think going to the police afterward is enough, then that’s it.”

  Now she was the one staring. “I’m not saying I’m going to my mother for sure. Look, I’m just trying to be friendlier.”

  I started to laugh.

  “I am! I came here to give you advice, not to threaten you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. You should stop giving them money. Eventually, it will get out, and not because of me. Someone else will talk, maybe Santos when he gets drunker or something, a
nd my mother will find out that way, so for your own good, stop going there. That’s my advice.”

  “Gracias, Sophia.”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “You’re an idiot, Delia. I don’t have to do anything to you. You’ll do it to yourself. I’m sure of it. All I have to do is be patient and wait,” she said gleefully. She turned and walked out of my room.

  I felt my body slip out of the grip of terror that had seized it despite the act I had put on for her. I was safe for now.

  But Santos had slipped dangerously near the edge of the cliff over which he would go and pull his family and me and Ignacio down into the depths of more pain and agony than he could ever imagine.

  I closed my eyes and said a prayer before I rushed into sleep like someone who had stepped onto a train that would take her to freedom.

  14

  Change in Plan

  Tía Isabela predicted well when she predicted we would meet at a late breakfast the following morning. I slept so deeply and was so tired, but I was still shocked at how late it was when my eyes finally were nudged open by the bright sunshine that had been pouring vainly through my windows until that moment. I glanced at the clock and saw it was already after ten. By the time I drifted down to breakfast, it was nearly eleven, and she appeared only moments after I did.

  “Well, I can tell from the way you look this morning that you had a full day. Tell me about it,” she said, sitting. She didn’t ask about Sophia, where she was, whether she had eaten breakfast, anything.

  “His boat is beautiful, and I had a wonderful time in Catalina. We had lunch on the boat.”

  “Yes, that’s smart. And you went swimming?”

  “A little.”

  “What did he think of your bathing suit?”

  It brought a blush to my face to answer, but her eyes were like doctor’s eyes, searching for signs that would reveal what was going on inside me.