Delia's Heart (Delia 2)

Rather than be like her, I thought, I’d trade places with my poorest girlfriend back in my Mexican village.

Once again, Tía Isabela was up in my room to supervise my makeup and hair. She brought the jewelry she had promised. My eyes widened so dramatically at the size of the diamonds on the bracelet and necklace that she laughed.

“Before you ask, Delia

, yes, they are real. My husband would never buy me fake jewelry, and I certainly would never buy any for myself. Wear that watch I gave you. I want you to try on some of these rings as well,” she suggested, opening a small box to show them to me. “You and I have the same ring size, I’m sure.”

The rings did fit. She chose the one I should wear.

While she hovered around me, fixing strands of my hair, making me do some of my makeup over, trying different shades of lipstick, Sophia came to the doorway and watched. Despite the way she had belittled going to the fund-raiser, I saw the look of envy in her face, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Her mother was treating me just the way she wished she would treat her, despite the act she put on, pretending not to care about such things.

Tía Isabela glanced at her from time to time but said nothing. Couldn’t she see how much pain Sophia was feeling? I did not understand how a mother could be so indifferent to her own daughter’s feelings. Perhaps more puzzling to me was how mi tía Isabela could be so different from her sister, my mother. Some selfish coyote surely had peered into our house the night Tía Isabela was made. Despite all I had learned, I couldn’t help but believe in such superstitions. Mi tía was living proof.

Finally, she spoke to Sophia.

“If you would take some interest in your own appearance and stop hanging around with losers and riffraff, Sophia, you could enjoy social events, too.”

“I’d rather hang around with riffraff,” Sophia said, grimacing.

“I know you would,” Tía Isabela said, pausing to look at her. “That’s the pity of it all. We can thank your father for it.”

“Right. Blame everything on a dead man,” Sophia fired back, her eyes actually filling with tears. She stormed away and slammed her bedroom door.

“I was hoping something good from your new life would rub off on her,” Tía Isabela said, “but I’m afraid she is doomed to suffer great unhappiness.”

She stood back to look at me.

“Perfect. You’ll sparkle beside Adan Bovio, especially in the photographs. Come down in twenty minutes,” she said, and left.

I gazed at myself in the full-length mirror. In the new dress and shoes, with my hair styled, the makeup highlighting my features, and the jewelry dazzling, I dared to think I was a good candidate for princess. Why shouldn’t I be, couldn’t I be, just as pretty and impressive as Fani or any other girl at the event? Was it really so sinful to take pride in your appearance? Was I guilty of too much vanity? Would I open the door for the devil and the evil eye? How does anyone ever enjoy good fortune and pleasure if she is always worried about being too lucky? Why couldn’t I have the same thick skin as Tía Isabela and think of myself as someone special, no matter what anyone else thought or said? Hadn’t I already paid the high price for any happiness I would enjoy? Did even thinking of such questions mean I had gone too far and crossed over into the world of the damned? I’ll never enjoy anything in my life as long as I feel this way, I thought. In that sense, Tía Isabela was right and someone to admire.

Hoping that I wasn’t turning my back completely on the honest and pure things my family in Mexico had given me, I set out for the fund-raiser, feeling proud and confident in my looks and appearance.

“Have fun with the snobs,” Sophia called to me as I passed her door.

I didn’t respond.

Tía Isabela joined me in the foyer, and we walked out, both elegantly dressed, both bedecked in jewels, looking like birds of a feather. Even though I knew in my heart that she was using me in her pursuit of Señor Bovio, I permitted her to take me under her wing and turn me into the Latina Cinderella Sophia mocked. Señor Garman looked at me with some astonishment and hurried to open the limousine doors for us.

“Usted es muy hermosa, Delia,” he whispered as I slipped into the limousine. Hearing him say I looked beautiful brought a blush to my cheeks.

“Gracias, Señor Garman,” I whispered back. Even so, I saw Tía Isabela had heard and smiled to herself as if I were entirely her creation.

When we arrived at the hotel, I realized all the plans and preparations were justified. It was like the movie premieres I had seen on television. There were spotlights in front of the entrance, and when we drove up, men in tuxedos were there to greet us immediately with glasses of champagne. Tía Isabela permitted me to have one.

“Tonight,” she whispered, “you cannot be a girl. You are a woman.”

Still, it made me nervous to walk into the ballroom with a glass of champagne. The guests who were arriving and had arrived were just as dressed up as we were, some even more so. Women were wearing tiaras that looked as if they cost thousands of dollars, and every gown I saw was surely as expensive as, if not more expensive than, the ones we were wearing.

There was music, and waiters and waitresses went about with more glasses of champagne and hors d’ouevres. Almost as soon as we entered the ballroom, an assistant for Señor Bovio rushed over to lead us through the aisle of tables dressed in beautiful centerpieces to the front tables, where Adan and his father were waiting and being greeted by one guest after another. Fani and her parents were there as well.

“That,” Tía Isabela said, nodding to my right, “is the current U.S. senator, not running this time, and over there is the attorney general of California.”

She identified all of the major local officials, mayors of cities and towns, state assemblymen, and state senators. She even pointed out old movie stars and singers and especially directed my attention to the billionaires and millionaires. It was all so overwhelming and dazzling I didn’t know where to look first. Fortunately, Adan pulled himself away from the guests and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.

“You look fantastic,” he said. “I had to look twice to be sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

He took my hand and brought me to his father, who looked at me with more interest than I had expected. He gave Adan a look, too, and nodded his approval. After that, Adan began introducing me to other guests while mi tía Isabela stood off to the side near Adan’s father and met people as well, pausing every once in a while to give me a nod of approval.