“I don’t wish to discuss it any longer, Delia. Read, and do what you should do,” he said.
I watched him walk out and close the door behind him. My eyes went to the papers he had left behind. I didn’t even want to touch them. I didn’t want to move in their direction in any way, but I was curious and began to read what was in the first envelope, the one from his attorney.
There was a letter and a document. The letter was from his attorney, making the point that I had no means of supporting Adan Jr. It also made the point that Señor Bovio had a right to custody of his son’s child. The attorney said that it would be easier on everyone, especially me, if I agreed to the assignment of full custody of Adan Jr. to Señor Bovio. There was a vague reference to my troubled background and current misdeeds that would have to be discussed publicly if it went to a formal hearing.
To me, it seemed as if the paper the letter was written on was so hot it burned my fingertips. I threw it down quickly and started to sob. Then I took deep breaths and went to the second envelope. The numbers actually frightened me, because they were so big. This was el diablo at his best. I was being set up with a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bank account and a half-million-dollar stock-and-bond portfolio. There was a checkbook with my name on each check, and there were a half-dozen credit cards already arranged in my name as well.
The folder had information and applications for nursing schools all over the country, the closest one being in Los Angeles. Someone had filled out most of the applications for me. I merely had to sign. I piled it all on the desk and pushed it away. Looking at it put me into a deeper depression.
I ate very little for dinner and went to bed early, but I kept waking up. I didn’t get up until very late the next morning. Teresa told Mrs. Newell about me, and she came around to bawl me out for being lazy.
“You can’t skip eating and just lie around all day. You will slow down your recuperation.”
“I don’t care,” I told her.
“Well, I do. We do. We don’t want another invalid in this house.”
“Another? Who’s the first?”
“Don’t be stupid, Delia. A premature baby is a special assignment. I don’t have time to baby you.”
“I would never want you to do anything that has the word ‘baby’ in it,” I said defiantly.
She smiled. “Suit yourself. If you insist on becoming a mental case, you’ll be shipped back to that clinic. I won’t be back.”
“Good,” I said.
She walked away, but her words lingered in the air.
She was right, of course. I would just defeat myself by sulking and falling into deeper depressions. I returned to eating well and walking.
Señor Bovio did not pressure me to sign the papers, however. They lay where I had first placed them. I was sure he felt so confident about it that he had no concern. What choice did I have?
A week later, I actually seriously considered signing the papers. I was a young woman without any means. How could I battle such a rich and powerful man? The faster I got my hands on my money, the faster I could work at finding some way to get Adan Jr. back. I went to the kitchen and prepared some breakfast. I had a doctor’s appointment in two days. I felt confident that he would approve of my driving, and I would then have Señor Bovio deliver my car.
Teresa entered and smiled at my robust appetite.
“I’m glad you’re feeling so much better,” she told me. “I guess I know why you’re so happy.”
“Oh? Why?”
She looked at me askance. It made my heart thump harder and faster.
“What is it, Teresa? What’s happening?”
“It’s the baby, Miss,” she said. “That’s all I meant.”
“What about the baby?” I pushed my food away and stood up. “What?” I screamed.
She brought her hands to the base of her throat. I saw that I had frightened her and quickly calmed myself.
“What are you saying, Teresa?”
“I thought you knew. I thought you had seen him. He’s home. He’s been home for two days.”
11
Farewell Dinner