Delia's Gift (Delia 3)

“It’s better you’re not here at the pool when the help is working,” he said.

“Por qué?”

“It distracts them, and they don’t do their work as well,” he said.

He glared again at the pool man.

“You should button up. The sun is right on you. It’s too hot already,” he continued, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “You should go out only in the morning these days. You have to be careful. You don’t want too much sun, and you don’t want to get dehydrated.”

“I haven’t been in the sun long, señor. I haven’t been out in the fresh air and sunshine for some time.”

“Yes, yes, but you have to be careful,” he muttered.

“I will,” I promised. I gazed toward the stables. “Do you still have horses, Señor Bovio?”

“What? Yes, there are two. One was Adan’s, and the other was his mother’s. But I don’t race horses anymore,” he added. “I don’t know why I bother keeping them. It’s expensive, and no one rides them except for the man I have looking after them.”

He looked at me, a terrifying thought coming to his mind.

“Don’t you go there,” he told me quickly. “There are too many flies, and you can’t ride, either. Don’t even think of such a thing. Not yet.”

“No, señor. I was just curious.”

“Sí,” he said. He looked at the pool man again, who was now hurrying away. “Did he bother you?”

“No, señor.”

“He’s taking longer than he should. I don’t approve of them working without shirts,” he said. “I might get rid of him. I told him previously I didn’t want him working like that in front of my guests.”

“There was no one here until I came, señor.”

“That’s not the point. Don’t stay out too long,” he told me, and walked after the young man, who was approaching his pickup truck.

I watched them talking. Señor Bovio waved his arms around. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he looked very angry. The young man lowered his head and got into his truck. Señor Bovio headed back to the hacienda. Not long after, I follow

ed him.

It was quiet when I reentered the house. I made my way up the staircase. I paused at the top, looking down the hallway at the various doors and wondering which one had been Adan’s bedroom. Suddenly, one of the doors opened, and Teresa stepped out. She had a vacuum cleaner in hand and some dust rags. She nodded, hurrying by me.

“Teresa?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Which room was Adan’s?”

“The one I was just in, Miss.”

“Oh. So, you look after it from time to time?”

“No, Miss. Just like always, I clean and dust and wash the windows every day. I don’t mind, and I can see it eases Mr. Bovio’s pain.”

“Eases his pain? How?”

“Well, Miss, it’s like Adan’s returning, like he’s just on one of his trips.”

“Oh. I see.” I smiled at her. “How long have you worked for Señor Bovio, Teresa?”

“I’m going on thirty-two years, Miss. This has been my first and only job since I came to America.”