Delia's Heart (Delia 2)

“You should go back to Mexico,” she cried when she reached the top. “Back where you belong!”

“I should,” I muttered after her, but she was already down the hallway to her room.

The commotion was enough to alert Edward and Jesse, who came out of Edward’s bedroom and rushed to help me finish going up the stairway.

“I’m fine,” I said, but they practically carried me up.

“We want to hear all about the party,” Edward said. “You want to come into my room for a while?”

“I’m tired, Edward. Can we talk in the morning before you return to Los Angeles?”

“Sure. You just stay in bed,” Jesse said. “We’ll bring you your breakfast.”

“No. I’ll get up,” I said quickly, maybe too quickly. I couldn’t help but be sensitive to everything they said or did for me. I knew Sophia would make something of it and give the ugly stories more credibility.

Edward narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong, Delia?”

“Was there a problem with Adan Bovio?” Jesse asked quickly.

“No, he was very nice, Jesse. I am going to dinner with him next Friday, to his friend’s new restaurant.”

“Oh,” Edward said, nodding.

“It’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I am just very tired.”

“Sure. Sleep well,” he said.

They watched me go to my bedroom. I smiled back at them and went in, closing the door softly behind me.

Now I was keeping another secret from them, I thought sadly, from the two people who had been the most kind and loving toward me. Would they hate me more after hearing the truth or for not hearing it? And how would they behave toward me once they knew of the nasty rumors Sophia and Christian were spreading?

It seemed that no matter what direction I took or what decisions I made, I was always to be caught in this maze of confusion and danger. My people from Mexico were coming here for protection, security, education, and health, but all I could see was a storm of trouble brewing.

Even in my dreams, the dark clouds were sliding in my direction. The winds blew harder, stronger, and the grasp I had on my grandmother’s hand weakened.

I fell through a nightmare into the morning sunlight, terrified at where the hands of the clock were taking me.

9

An Uneasy Deal

Despite my telling Edward and Jesse not to pamper me with breakfast in bed, there was a knock at my door in the morning. I had not realized how late I had slept. For a moment, the bright sunlight streaming through my windows confused me, but I called out, “Yes?”

They entered pretending to be waiters, with small towels over their arms, one carrying the tray of food, the other carrying coffee and a local newspaper.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up. “I told you not to bring me breakfast.”

Jesse put the tray down, fixed the bed table for me over my lap, and put the tray on it. Edward held up the local paper and smiled.

“That was before we realized how important you have become.”

“What?”

“You made the social pages,” he said. “And in a big way, too.”

“Me?”

He unfolded the paper to show me a picture of Fani, Adan, and myself at Danielle Johnson’s party. Fani was looking at me, but Adan and I were looking toward the camera. Someone had given the photographer my name. Next to it was written, “escorted by Adan Bovio, son of U.S. senatorial candidate Ray Bovio.” Fani wasn’t even mentioned.