According to what I had been taught, there were three types of death. The first occurred when your body stopped functioning and your soul departed. The second occurred when you were interred in the earth. And the third death occurred if and when you were no longer remembered by anyone.
I was so deep in thought about it all that when the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of the chair. As soon as I heard Edward’s voice, I suspected Tía Isabela might have called him to interrogate him.
“What’s new on the battlefield?”
“Your mother nearly succeeded in bringing your sister to tears,” I began, and told him the whole story except for the real reason I had turned down Christian Taylor’s invitation. It was apparently all new to him. “So, your mother did not call you?” I asked.
“Why should she call me?” I didn’t want to tell him about the rumors Sophia was spreading. When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Yeah, Christian Taylor’s a bit of a horse’s ass. You made the right decision. Don’t worry about Sophia. She has a thick hide. She’ll get over it quickly and do something to bring someone else to tears.”
“There is so much anger swirling about in this house, Edward. Will it ever change?”
“I don’t know,” he said quickly. “You sound pretty melancholy, Delia. I guess we should have come home this weekend.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s all right,” I said.
“You have to hang in there, Delia. Things will change for you. It will get better. You have too much to offer. Just be patient,” he said.
“I’ll try, Edward. I don’t hear Jesse.”
“He’s at the library. We’re sharing the work this weekend. I’ll call you again tomorrow,” he said.
“It’s all right. You need not call. Do your work, Edward.”
He laughed but insisted he would call.
When I looked out the window again, I saw Casto standing in the driveway and gazing up at my room. I knew what that meant and hurried down the stairs and out to him. He lingered in the shadows, which confirmed my suspicion.
“There is something waiting for you at the Davilas’,” he said. We both knew what it was.
“Gracias, señor.”
“I am going up that way late in the morning,” he said. “I need to get some things in the big hardware store that is near there.”
“Gracias. What time?”
“Ten.”
“It’s still perhaps better mi tía Isabela not know.”
“Sí,” he said.
He had taken me there once before, and what I had done was walk toward the bus station and have him pick me up. We would do the same now.
“I am very grateful, señor.”
“Es nada,” he said, and left me in the darkness.
But now my heart was full of happiness, and the melancholy Edward had heard in my voice was quickly swept away. I hurried back inside to add more to my letter to Ignacio. Although his letters to me were usually quite short, I knew he cherished mine and wanted them to last weeks. I would bring it with me, and his father would get it to him wherever he was in Mexico.
I was on pins and needles all morning but tried not to seem so when Tía Isabela appeared at breakfast. Sophia was back to having her breakfast delivered to her by Inez. I was confident that would be hard on Inez, and sure enough, she returned with the tray to tell Señora Rosario that Sophia claimed her eggs and her coffee were too cold. An entirely new breakfast had to be prepared for her.
“I’m going into Los Angeles today,” Tía Isabela told me, and then she did something she had never done. She asked me if I would like to go with her. “It’s business, but I have time to do some shopping.”
“Gracias, Tía Isabela,” I said, “but I have much to do today for school.”
She pulled her shoulders back so quickly I knew my rejection was like a slap to her. I realized I should have said yes and planned on going to the Davilas’ home the next day, perhaps after they had returned from church. But it was too late. I had let my heart speak quicker than my head.
“Suit yourself,” Tía Isabela said, finished her coffee, and left.