Delia's Heart

by V. C. Andrews

  “Serious terms? What does that mean, Adan?” I asked, turning toward him.

  “I’d like to give you a special gift on your graduation day.”

  “What is this special gift?”

  “An engagement ring,” he said. “Don’t look so shocked and frightened,” he added, laughing.

  “But I am,” I confessed.

  “What would you do if I gave you such a gift that day? Would you accept it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I know I want to do what I said. I want to become a nurse.”

  “There’s no problem with that.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You still have strong feelings for Ignacio?”

  “I’m going to sound like—what you call it—a broken record.”

  “You mean you don’t know?”

  I nodded. “I am very confused,” I said.

  He smiled and reached for my hand. “You have every right to be, but maybe I can help you get rid of the confusion.”

  “How?”

  “Like this,” he said.

  He leaned in to kiss me and then kept his face close to mine so we could do nothing more than look into each other’s eyes.

  “I can’t get your eyes out of mine,” he whispered. “Even when I look into the eyes of other girls, I see your eyes, Delia. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve set your anchor in me.”

  He kissed me again, longer this time. The taste of his lips made my head spin.

  “Delia,” he said, his lips grazing my cheek and my earlobe, “I need you and want you to need me. Nothing that’s happened has changed that or ever will.”

  All my days of pain and turmoil had cut the legs out from beneath my sense of caution. I brought my lips back to his, I felt his level of excitement. His hands moved up and around to slip under the top of my bathing suit and easily lift it away from my breasts. The cool air felt good on my hardened nipples, which eagerly accepted his lips and the tip of his tongue. I moaned as he kissed his way down to my belly button and below, gracefully undoing the bottom of my suit. In the distance, I heard the birds cawing as if they were trying to warn me against myself, as if the voices of my ancestors were being transmitted from beyond.

  But I was unable to deny that I had fantasized about this moment many times, that I had struggled, mostly in vain, to put it out of my mind. He was mounting me and chanting my name as if not saying it would shut some door and destroy the magic bubble around us. I didn’t surrender to him as much as I drew him into me, demanding that he surrender all of his essence, uncover his soul, be completely naked and honest. When I realized there was no turning back, I surged forward. The ocean lifted and dropped us gently, as if it were trying to mimic our love rhythms. The wind eagerly scooped up my cries and carried them over the water. We held each other so tightly it was as if we were literally trying to absorb each other.

  I heard my cries of pleasure as they echoed down the corridors of ecstasy leading to my very soul. “Delia,” he whispered. “Delia, I love you.”

  We did not let go of each other when it ended, either. We lay there entwined until both of us began to breathe normally and both our hearts stopped thrashing inside our chests. Then he turned over, quickly put his bathing suit on, and tossed a towel over me. I closed my eyes and turned on my side.

  “Just relax,” he said. “I’ll get us under way. I know this great restaurant that has its own dock. It’s not far.”

  I didn’t reply, and I didn’t open my eyes until I felt the boat moving quickly and bouncing harder on the water. I had been lying there anticipating my inner voice start to reprimand me, stir regrets, bring me to tears, but I heard nothing but the echo of my own pleasure. I’m still smiling, I thought. This must be right.

  I dressed and took a cold drink. Adan beckoned for me to climb up to the bridge. He held out his hand, and I stood beside him looking out at the water while he put his arm around my shoulders to draw me closer to him.

  “You okay?” he asked, and kissed my cheek.

  I nodded, but I wondered if he could feel me trembling inside.

  “I’m really hungry,” he said. “You?”

  “Yes.”

  “I really do love you, Delia.”

  “Sí, yo lo creo.”

  I did believe him, and I didn’t think I was gullible or just vulnerable because of all that had happened. I had confidence in my own feelings and what I could see in his eyes.

  I knew that he was waiting for me to say I loved him as well, but those words were still forming. He would have to be patient.

  I went down to put on the rest of my clothing as we drew closer to the restaurant he had described. Then I helped him get the boat tied to the dock, and we went off to eat. Adan was even more animated, excited, and happy at the restaurant. I regained an appetite as I calmed down and really enjoyed the lunch. Afterward, the winds seemed to calm as well, and the ocean was not as rough. He felt it was safe enough for him to show me how to navigate to keep the course steady. When he was confident that I knew what to do, he had me drive the boat while he took a nap.

  It was exhilarating, and I began to wonder if I was made for this life after all. The contrast between it and how I had been living was even greater. I tried to envision what it would be like to be Adan Bovio’s young wife. What would our children be like? Would I become very much like mi tía Isabela, concerned about social position, clothes, and jewelry? My life in Mexico would drift farther and farther away, disappear in the distance as the shore disappeared. Everyone I had loved and lost would move closer and closer to the third death.

  But I would be building a new family and a new life, and I would carry as much of what I loved and cherished into this new life. That can’t be terrible, I thought. Abuela Anabela used to say, “En la casa de la rica, ella manda y ella grita.” In a rich woman’s house, her hollers and orders ring out. That was certainly true for mi tía Isabela. Would it be true for me? Was it important to be important, respected, obeyed? She certainly didn’t have love. Could I have both?

  I looked back at Adan. Even asleep, he looked as handsome as Adonis. I would certainly be the envy of every woman. Sophia would come close to committing suicide. It was all so complicated. Did I love him at all? Were those words finally coming to my lips, words I would say before this day ended? And if I did, did I love him for who he was or what he was? Was his love for me so strong that it would answer all questions and wipe away any troubles and pain? Should I consider myself lucky and be done with it?

  When he gave me that ring on graduation day, would I take it and put it on or shake my head and softly say, “I can’t. Not yet.” In his eyes, postponement meant never. He would take it back, but he might never again offer it to me. I knew what mi tía Isabela would say. “Seize it.”

  “How are you doing?” I heard him say.

  I had been in such deep thought that for a moment I panicked when I saw I had gone off course.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t paying good attention,” I confessed.

  He rose, stretched, and came back to the controls.

  “I’ll say,” he said, laughing. “You must have been sleeping or daydreaming. It’s all right,” he added quickly. “I’ll get us back on course.”

  He took over, but the wind stirred up again, and our ride became quite rough. He kept apologizing for it.

  “You don’t control the weather, Adan,” I told him.

  “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have let us get out this far. It’s going to take longer to get back. Sorry. You’d better sit,” he added when I wobbled from side to side.

  While he stood spread-eagle at the wheel, I could sit right behind him and hold on to the armrests. We were rocking that much now. The sky had clouded up quickly, too. I actually felt a little cold.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “I didn’t want to take you out on such a rough ride. I should have listened to Bill back there.”

  “But it became so nice.”

  He looked back at me, and I blus
hed. I wasn’t referring to our lovemaking, but I could see he thought I was.

  “I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it,” he told me, and then turned back to the wheel. He looked at his gauges and shook his head.

  “What?” I asked. The brisk wind and the higher waves were beginning to frighten me.

  “We’re not moving as fast as the RPMs indicate we should. Sometimes you pick up something and drag it, like seaweed, even an old fisherman’s net. I’m going to go back and check it out, Delia. I’d like you to take the wheel and just hold it steady like I showed you before, okay?”

  I nodded. When I stood up, the rocking threw me back to the seat. He held my arm when I stood again and planted me at the wheel.

  “Hold on tightly,” he said. “We’ll be all right. Don’t be afraid.”

  “Sí,” I said.

  He braced himself and carefully went down the short ladder to move toward the rear of the boat. The wind ripped at his blazer and combed up the strands of his hair. I was worried about him, so I kept turning to look back to check on him. At one point, he lost his balance but caught himself quickly on the side of the boat.

  “Adan!”

  He waved back at me.

  “I’m all right,” he called, and leaned over the boat to look at the rudder and propellers.

  I was half turned, watching him, and I let go of the wheel with my right hand just as a rather strong, high wave crashed against the side of the boat. I was the one who lost balance this time and felt myself falling to my right. I reached out frantically for the wheel, and when I seized it, I turned it sharply. The boat turned sharply too.

  Adan looked as if he was lifting off the floor of the deck the way the gull had lifted earlier off the side of the boat. In an effort to prevent himself from going overboard, he reached for the side of the boat, what I would later learn was called the gunnel, and he struck his head hard and sharply. He fell back to the deck instantly.

  “Adan!”

  I straightened myself, and, clinging to anything and everything I could, I hurried down the ladder. I made my way back to him. He hadn’t stirred since hitting his head. I fell to the deck beside him and shook him. Without anyone steering it, the boat wobbled and bounced dramatically.

  “Adan! Adan!”

  His eyes were shut, his face in a grimace of pain, but he did not regain consciousness. When I saw a trickle of blood begin to flow from his scalp, I went into an even greater panic. I knew I had to get back to steering the boat. The ocean was tossing us about as if we were in a toy. Practically crawling on all fours now, I scurried back to the ladder and up to the bridge. When I seized the wheel, I spread my legs apart as I had seen him do and steadied the boat. I had no idea which way to turn to reach shore, but I turned all the way to my right. I looked for a way to keep the wheel from turning while I returned to Adan, but I couldn’t find one.

  Tears were streaming down my face now, tears of panic, not tears of sadness. I moaned and prayed. Suddenly, I saw another boat in the distance and turned to head in its direction. I knew the people on it were too far away to hear my cries, and the wind would carry them off, anyway. Fortunately, they were heading in our direction, so the time it took to draw closer was reduced. It seemed to take forever to me, however.

  Adan had still not moved. I could see the trickle of blood was now a clear red line down the side of his temple and over his cheek. How could all this have happened so quickly? I complained aloud, as if some god of the sea would hear me and fix everything. It wasn’t fair.

  When I could clearly see the people on the other boat, I waved and screamed. Someone pointed at me, and they all looked my way.

  “Adan is seriously hurt!” I shouted, as if I believed everyone in the world knew who he was. I pointed to him, but there was no way they could see him yet.

  I listened to the tall man in a dark blue shirt and pants and followed his directions to slow our boat. He told me to hold it steady, and soon they were close enough to lower their dinghy. The man got into it and started for our boat. The moment he was able to board, I felt myself spin around. The excitement and panic were too much. He seized my arm, but I sank to the floor.

  When I woke, I saw there was now another man, shorter and stocky, and a woman beside him on our boat. They had managed to get Adan onto the cushion on the deck. The woman came to me immediately. She had long red hair and freckles peppered over her cheeks, even at the sides of her chin.

  “What happened?” she asked when I sat up.

  “He hit his head on the side,” was all I managed to say before my throat choked up.

  “You take it easy,” she said. “We’ll get you both back. Felix, my husband,” she said, nodding at the man standing at our steering wheel, “will handle your boat. My son is on ours. C’mon,” she said. “I’ll help you lie down on the cushion beside your…husband?”

  I shook my head. “No, he’s only a friend.”

  “All right, honey. Lean on me,” she said. Somehow, she guided me back to Adan, and I was able to sprawl out beside him. His eyes were still shut, but they had bandaged his head enough to stop the bleeding. I reached for his hand, and then I lay back and closed my eyes.

  Soon, I thought, I’ll wake from this nightmare. Please, mi dios, I prayed, make it only a nightmare.

  Maybe I fell asleep again. I can’t remember now, but when I opened my eyes again, we were closing on the dock. They had put a blanket over Adan. He didn’t look as if he was cold, but I thought the way he was right now, he wouldn’t know if he was or not. They had radioed ahead, so when we reached the dock, I could see the paramedics waiting. There was an ambulance parked nearby.

  “It’ll be all right,” the woman told me. “We’re almost there, dear.”

  She squeezed my hand. I looked at Adan and prayed she was right.

  Once we docked, the paramedics quickly boarded. They asked me what had happened, and I described Adan’s accident quickly while they prepared to take him off the boat. I was crying so hard that I wasn’t sure they understood my explanation. I know I was blaming it all on myself. If I hadn’t lost my balance…if I hadn’t pulled the steering wheel too hard…

  “Did you hurt yourself in any way?” the paramedic asked me.

  I showed him my hands. They were burning because of how I had skinned my palms in my desperation to get up the ladder to the bridge.

  “We’ll take care of that. Don’t worry. Take it easy,” the paramedics told me. “Just stay calm.”

  “Gracias,” I said.

  I watched as they strapped Adan into a gurney, securing his head and neck, and lifted him gently. On the dock, they had another gurney with wheels. I was wobbly when I stood. The woman with red hair held my arm and helped me get off the boat.

  “How are you doing?” one of the paramedics asked me.

  I just shook my head. I felt nauseous now and very dizzy. I took deep breaths to keep myself from passing out.

  “C’mon,” he said, taking my arm. “We’ll bring you along and get you checked out.”

  He led me to the ambulance. I watched them load Adan in, and then they helped me in and had me sit while one of the paramedics began to take a reading of Adan’s vitals. Moments later, the ambulance started away.

  Before I closed my eyes and sat back, I glanced through the rear window and saw that a small crowd had gathered on the dock, and the red-haired woman and her husband were telling everyone what had happened.

  Mi dios, I thought, I hadn’t even thanked them.

  19

  Loss

  When we reached the emergency room at the hospital, they took me to a room next to the one Adan was in, so I was able to hear them working frantically on him. Before anyone came in to examine me, I heard them wheel Adan off to radiology. The nurse at the desk came in to see me and ask questions about our identities and the accident. Finally, the emergency-room doctor came in to see me to treat the palms of my hands.

  “Did you injure yourself in any other way?” he ask
ed.

  I shook my head. I think I was on the borderline of being hysterical, and he could see that in my face.

  “Just relax,” he said, getting me to lie back. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Can you give us a phone number of someone to call for you?” the nurse asked me.

  Can you call the beyond? I wanted to ask. Can you reach my parents or my grandmother?

  There was no point in delaying it, I thought, and gave her mi tía Isabela’s home number.

  “Will Adan be all right?” I asked quickly.

  “We’ll know everything soon. Just try to rest. We’d rather not give you any medications right now, Delia. Will you be all right?”

  I nodded.

  “We’ll look in on you frequently. Just close your eyes and rest,” she said.

  I did, and I was blessed with sleep and grateful for it, even though it was obviously a result of mental and physical exhaustion.

  When I woke, I clearly heard Señor Bovio’s voice in the hallway. I trembled at the thought of seeing him. Moments later, he looked in on me. The nurse came in before him and checked my blood pressure. He stood staring at me until she nodded and left the room.

  His face was grim, dark, his lips trembling. Then he held out his arms and looked as if he would break into tears.

  “How did this happen to my son?” he asked.

  I began to explain, taking deep breaths between sentences. My chest ached with my own sadness and agony. I know I was practically blubbering, rattling off insignificant details, mixing English and Spanish, but he picked up on my mention of the RPMs as Adan had described them.

  “So he went to check the propellers?”

  “Sí. And the boat was rocking so much and so hard, I was worried for him.”

  He nodded. “And then?”

  “Then I lost my balance,” I said, and he looked up quickly.

  “What happened?”

  “I was falling over, so I grabbed the wheel, and it turned, and that’s when Adan went flying into the side of the boat.”

  “Into the gunnel? When you lost control?”

  “Sí. I hurried down to him, but he was unconscious, and the boat was tossing so hard—”