Delia’s Gift by V.C. Andrews

school work here. A teacher is bringing everything to me today.”
    “Buying you a car, paying your expenses after you give birth? You fell into a gold mine, didn’t you? I hope you planned all this. I hope it wasn’t all accidental.”
    “What? Why?”
    “Why? I’d like you more if I knew you were as good a schemer as I am, if not better.”
    “You’re not going to like me very much, then,” I told her.
    She paused for a moment, and then she laughed. “I do miss you, Delia. It’s been rather boring at school, as a matter of fact. I’m not even interested in picking on your stupid cousin Sophia. It was always like shooting fish in a barrel, anyway,” she said, and blew some smoke.
    “What are you doing?” we heard Señor Bovio cry out.
    Both of us turned to see him walking quickly in our direction.
    “Fani!” he screamed louder.
    “What?”
    “I asked you to come by and be a companion for Delia but not to blow smoke in her face,” he said, drawing closer.
    “I’m not blowing smoke in her face, Ray. Calm down. Jesus.”
    “Put that cigarette out,” he ordered. “Don’t youknow it’s bad for pregnant women to be around smoke?”
    She stared at him and then stamped it out. “Sorry, mi dios .”
    “I don’t want smoking anywhere on my property.”
    “What about your Cuban cigars, Ray?”
    “I’ve locked them away for now,” he said. He turned to me. “Mr. McCarthy is here to see you. He has all of your books and materials. Go change and meet him in the library. He’s waiting there. You don’t want to catch cold walking around the air-conditioned house in a wet bathing suit.”
    “Why are you getting so hyper, Ray? She’s not that fragile,” Fani told him.
    He turned to her with a look of pain in his eyes. “I would have expected you to think like I do, Fani. She’s carrying Adan’s baby.”
    Fani glanced at me and then looked away. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “I have a few silly errands to do for my mother. I’ll call you sometime, Delia.”
    “I’ll walk back with you,” I said quickly, and joined her.
    Señor Bovio remained standing there as we walked off toward the house.
    “Maybe I was wrong,” Fani told me as we drew farther away.
    “Wrong? About what?”
    “About your falling into a gold mine. Maybe you just fell into a dark hole. I’ll call you,” she promised, and walked to her car.
    I watched her get in, looked back at Señor Bovio, who was still standing at the pool looking our way,and then I hurried into the house to dress and meet my teacher.
    Mrs. Newell was waiting for me at the top of the stairway. She seemed to pop out of nowhere.
    “I’m happy you’ve come back inside. I see you went out without putting any sunblock on. We don’t want you getting a heat rash or sunburn.”
    “I have lived in the sunlight all my life, Mrs. Newell. I know when I’m getting too much.”
    “You haven’t been pregnant all your life, have you?” she shot back at me. Then she paused with a new thought. “Were you ever pregnant?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “It’s not a foolish question to ask. Girls even younger than you are often married and mothers back where you’re from, aren’t they?”
    “I was not,” I said.
    “Um. Next time, put on the sunblock. I left it on the dresser in your room. People don’t understand,” she said in a more thoughtful, calmer voice. “Young girls can be physically mature enough to conceive, but that doesn’t mean they have the basic intelligence necessary yet to take care of themselves and their children. Sex is easy; motherhood is not.” She smiled. “It’s why we have so many problems with young people today.”
    “Do you have children, Mrs. Newell?”
    “No, but…”
    “Why don’t you have children?” I was going to add, if you’re so smart about it.
    “That’s not your business. We’re here to deal with you, not me.”
    “Deal? I don’t want anyone dealing with me, Mrs.Newell. I’m not a deck of cards,”