Delia’s Gift by V.C. Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

stern with you, Teresa. There’s no reason to put so much pressure on you. Everyone just has to calm down. I’m not the first woman to have a baby.”
    “Yes, Miss.”
    “No, really. I don’t need all this special attention, tailors, shoemakers, nurses. I bet you think it’s all a bit over the top,” I added, imagining all the help were buzzing about the things Señor Bovio was doing.
    She nodded but looked at me as if I were totally crazy to suggest it.
    “Don’t you agree?” I pursued.
    She shrugged. “Yes, Miss, but from what I see, nothing is really much different.”
    “Nothing?” I smiled at her. “What do you mean, nothing’s much different, Teresa?”
    She didn’t look as if she wanted to respond.
    “I don’t understand,” I said.
    “It’s the way it was when Señora Bovio was pregnant with Adan. She had personally tailored maternity clothing and shoes and a nutritionist, too, only…”
    “Yes?”
    “She expected no less,” Teresa said. “I’m sure she would have expected no less for you. I guess Señor Bovio still hears her commands,” she added, and thennearly bit down on her own lip. She surprised herself more than she surprised me.
    “Still hears? What commands, Teresa?”
    “Nothing. I don’t know what I’m saying. Sorry, Miss,” she said, and continued down the hallway.
    Still hears commands? What a strange thing for her to have said, I thought.
    In the midst of all of this opulence, luxury, and privilege, some dark cloud hovered, clinging to the ceiling and the corners of the walls around me.
    The sounds of Tía Isabela’s heels clacking on the tile floor echoed in my mind.
    It left me trembling again, defeating the warm sun that had lifted my spirits.

3
A Bargain
    “D r. Denardo has arrived,” Mrs. Newell announced after overseeing the delivery of my dinner. It came so quickly I was unable to tell her and Teresa that I would insist on having dinner in the dining room rather than in my suite. I began to wonder if Señor Bovio was simply avoiding ever having to sit at a dinner table with me. Perhaps Tía Isabela was right. He did still blame me for Adan’s death and, aside from dealing with my pregnancy, wanted nothing more to do with me.
    “Oh,” I said, looking toward the doorway and pushing my dinner tray aside.
    “No, no. He is in the office with Mr. Bovio and will be up shortly. Don’t rush your food,” she added. “I’m sure they’ll be a while. They both know you have just been given your meal. I have given the doctor my preliminary report.”
    Earlier, she had checked my pulse and blood pressure and then weighed me.
    “Fine. I don’t expect it will take me all that long to eat this, anyway,” I said, nodding at the tray. The portions were very small.
    “Everything is weighed so that the proper amount is given to you. As I explained before, it’s too easy for a pregnant woman to gain weight rapidly,” she said, “and I don’t intend to let that happen on my watch, thank you.”
    “I don’t want that to happen, either, Mrs. Newell.”
    “Good,” she said, and left.
    I ate because I was hungry, but again, none of it was particularly tasty. When Teresa came for the tray and dishes, a thought occurred to me.
    “Do you know if Señora Bovio often ate in this suite, Teresa?”
    “When she was pregnant and began to show, she rarely left the suite. She even gave birth to Adan in the house, which was quite a surprise, I must admit.”
    “In the house?”
    “Yes, Miss. My mother was born in her mother’s house,” she added, smiling.
    “ Sí, so was mine. So was I, in fact, but…”
    “Many women are turning to midwives and more natural birthing, I hear,” she added, and left.
    With all of the special concern and care Señor Bovio was taking with me, I doubted he would want to take the risk of having me give birth in the hacienda , but I couldn’t imagine why he had permitted his wife to give birth to Adan in the house or why she would want to do