The first time Angelina held her newborn grandson, she inspected the baby in the lamplight. “He’s beautiful, exactly the way Vicente looked.”
“Surely there is something of Valentina in the child.” Inés smiled at the baby in Angelina’s arms.
Angelina glanced at her daughter-in-law propped up against the pillows, pale and listless after eighteen hours of labor.
She shook her head. “No lo veo.”
“¡Angelina! That’s not nice!” Inés touched the baby’s cheek.
Gloria wiped Valentina’s face with a cool cloth.
In the dim lamplight, Valentina could see how her mother-in-law must have looked with her own sons.
“When you’re finished with Valentina, tell Raúl to send el peón for the wet nurse.” Angelina rocked the baby.
“No, Angelina.” Valentina sat up in bed.
Inés and Gloria exchanged a look. It was the first time Valentina had called her mother-in-law by her name.
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“I’ll nurse my baby,” Valentina said.
“Things aren’t so bad that we can’t pay a peona a few plátanos to nurse Vicente’s baby.”
“I want Vicente.”
“I’ll get him,” Gloria said.
The baby began to cry.
“He’s hungry.” Valentina held out her arms for her son.
“Gloria, bring some sugared water. That will quiet him until we get the wet nurse,” Angelina said.
“Just put him to your breast, he knows what to do.” Inés took the baby from Angelina and brought him to his mother.
Angelina turned to stare at Inés, who answered her unspoken question. “Before I became a widow, I had a baby girl.”
“You never told me,” Angelina said.
Inés shrugged. “My daughter died. Nothing to tell.”
Valentina had gone into labor while Vicente and his father were working on the farm. Vicente had returned home alone. Unwelcomed by las damas during the birth, he’d been banished from the bedroom. For hours, he’d paced back and forth, first la sala, then el batey, then back to la sala, tortured by his wife’s screams.
Vicente hurried into the room and knelt by the bed.
“¿Querida, estás bien?” He caressed her face, then his baby’s head.
“We have a son, Vicente.” Her dark eyes filled with tears.
“Querida.”
“Let’s leave them alone,” Inés said, taking Angelina’s arm and leading her out; she closed the door behind them.
“Why are you crying? It’s over now.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped her eyes.
“If only Elena and my parents could see our baby.”
“I know, querida.”
“I was with Elena when she had her twins.”
“I’ll go to town tomorrow and send them a telegram.”
“Will you? But the expense—”
“A son isn’t born every day.”
“No, not every day.” Valentina smiled down at the baby.
“Your screams were horrible, Valentina.” He brought the chair over to the bed. “Did it hurt so very much?”
“You have the next one.” She looked down at the baby nursing at her breast. Her hair fell along her face like a curtain.
“The next one?” Vicente caressed his son’s cheek with a finger. “He looks like you.”
“That’s not what your mother says.”
“You expected something else from my mother?”
They smiled at each other.
“I don’t mind if he looks like you.” Valentina switched the baby to the other breast.
Inés and Gloria came into the room.
“Pa’fuera, Vicente. La mamacita needs her rest.” Gloria carried some cloths and a basin of warm water.
“But Gloria, this is where I sleep—”
“Not tonight,” Inés said.
“I pushed together some chairs en la sala,” Gloria said. “It’s that or blankets on the floor.”
“But Valentina might need me—”
“Not tonight,” Gloria said.
Vicente turned to Valentina, who had fallen asleep, the baby nursing at her breast.
Utuado
November 21, 1890
Dear Titi Elena,
Gracias for the congratulatory telegram! Vicente and I were excited to send and receive one, so cosmopolitan. You asked for details. Javiercito was born a week ago por la noche at 10:59 exactly after eighteen hours of labor! Elena! ¡El dolor! ¡Ay bendito, Papito Dios! Still, it was worth it all to have this sweet child who is this moment nursing at my breast. Did I tell you that my mother-in-law thinks he weighed as much as Vicente did? Seven pounds. La doña said the baby is exactly like Vicente, and she is right that he does have his father’s eyes.
I can’t wait for you to meet your nephew. Do you think that you could visit? Maybe even bring our parents? The children are welcome, too. We’ll make room for you here. I would go to you but las damas say that I must not exert myself too much for the first forty days or bad things will happen to me. (I think that’s an old wives’ tale, but they are determined.)
Elena, again, I implore you to send me my things! Why can’t you find someone to bring my trunk? I’ve been married almost a year! Bring it yourself if you have to! Please do!!
Querida hermana, give my love to our parents and please try to visit me and meet your new nephew! I miss you so much!
Love you,
Valentina (or Mamacita, as Gloria calls me)
Ponce
December 10, 1890
Querida Valentina,
How are you and your little family? I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to meet our precious Javiercito, but Ernesto couldn’t get away from his post. Obviously, I couldn’t undertake the treacherous journey without him. Oh, how I wish that we could sit on your bed and talk like old times. Did you dress the baby in the little gown I added to your trunk? I’m sorry about your things taking so long to get to you. You’ve no idea what a trial it has been to find a reliable person. Why do you have to live so far away on some mountain? With a husband tan guapo como Vicente, I knew it wouldn’t be long before you got pregnant! Mamá was horrified to learn from your letter that you do not employ a wet nurse. Perhaps that is the custom of the country? Don’t you find it a little barbaric? We ponceñas are more delicada! Sorry, but you are no longer a ponceña, Valentina! I almost forgot to give you the most important news! Soon, I won’t be a ponceña, either! We are moving to San Juan! The capital! I’m so excited to live in the city that everyone calls the most Spanish in all the Americas! Do you recall that Ernesto’s family is from San Juan? His father died, and Ernesto is to take over the business for his mother and sisters. A stationery store. Our parents are to come with us.
I must go now, so much to do! I will send gifts for you and my nephew. Some things are from my own children, but they’re such good quality that I didn’t want to give them to a beggar who wouldn’t appreciate them.
¡Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo from all of us to your family!
Your loving sister,
Elena, the soon-to-be ex-ponceña