Delia's Crossing (Delia 1)

I shook my head.

“Maybe you were hoping he would do just what he did. Maybe you led him on and encouraged him, just like you encouraged Señor Baker.”

“Oh, no, Tía Isabela. I did nothing to encourage anyone, especially not Señor Baker.”

“Right, you did nothing,” she said, nodding. “Not only do you look like your mother now, but you sound just like her. No woman is ever that innocent, Delia,” she said. “Not even your mother.”

“I am. I was.”

“Oh, please. I am sure you knew what Bradley Whitfield wanted the moment you got into his car. For a woman, it’s instinctive. You can almost smell their hunger.”

“No, Tía Isabela. I am not lying to you. I suspected nothing. He was Sophia’s boyfriend, so I didn’t imagine…”

“Right. How often have you been with boys like that in Mexico? How often have you not resisted enough?”

“Never, Tía Isabela.”

“So, you claim you’re as pure as the driven snow, is that it?” she asked.

“I do not understand.”

“You and your mother, the holy angels.” She sat back, her smile still sharp, cold. “Everyone knows you Latinos have hotter blood than the rest of us.”

“Us? Are you not Latino, too?”

“Never mind me,” she snapped. “I’m not the one who has brought shame on this house.” She leaned forward. “And I assure you, I don’t want this sort of performance going on in my home.”

“Performance?”

“This innocent act. You do it so well, just like your mother, and now you drove Edward to go off like some knight fighting for your honor, only he injured himself very badly. There is a very, very good chance he’ll never regain his full vision.”

I felt the tears coming, my throat tightening. “I did not ask him to do that.”

“Oh, stop it. We all know how young girls ask boys to do things for them and to them. They don’t have to actually say anything. Your face, your eyes, your wounded look is enough to tear up their hearts. Edward has always been particularly vulnerable to that sort of thing. I think that’s why he hasn’t had a girlfriend for any significant period of time. He loses his heart too easily and flits about. I’ve tried to give him some advice, guide him, warn him, but he’s like…”

“Like you were when you were younger,” I dared suggest.

She stared a moment, and then she smiled again, but this looked like a smile of appreciation more than sarcasm.

“Yes, exactly. That’s why I knew he could get himself into trouble if he wasn’t careful.” She stared again, this time silently. I could see she was deciding what to say next, whether or not to tell me something. It made me uneasy. I squirmed in the chair. Her silences were like needles.

“What did you think of Jesse?”

“Jesse? Edward’s friend?”

“You know another Jesse?”

“No, Tía Isabela. I thought he was very nice, kind. He was very worried about Edward.”

“Very. How did they behave together?”

“Behave?” I couldn’t stop my face from reddening with the memory of how Jesse had kissed Edward.

I saw she was considering me harder.

“Maybe you have been too cloistered in that hovel they called a home. Tell me, were you taught to look away if you saw two people doing something unclean, forbidden, sinful? Well?”

“Yes,” I said.