“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.