“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!”