They crawl through the fence.
36
A six-year-old boy sees Puri and gestures frantically.
“What is it, chico?”
He lifts his small right hand, pinched tightly into a fist. He waves Puri to the corner and opens his fingers.
In the center of the boy’s palm sits a tooth. Puri claps in delight.
“Wonderful! Let me see,” she says.
The boy smiles proudly, revealing a large gap in the front of his mouth.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” asks Puri.
The boy nods.
“Sí,” says Puri. “Tonight you will put the tooth under your pillow. Ratoncito Pérez, the mouse that lives in a box of cookies, will visit while you sleep. He will take the tooth and leave a surprise for you.”
Puri wraps the child in a hug as he bounces with delight. The older children at the Inclusa have less chance of being adopted, so Puri dotes on them whenever possible. She loves playing Ratoncito Pérez.
A nun whisks by Puri. “Don’t dawdle. Diapers need changing, babies need bathing and feeding.”
Puri makes her way to the nursery, anxious to share the news of the tooth with Sister Hortensia.
Sister Hortensia stands at Clover’s bassinet, engaged in conversation with a pregnant woman and her husband. Puri enters unnoticed. She tends the babies nearby and eavesdrops in the process.
“My wife is tired of wearing a pillow around her stomach. We’re not sure this feels right,” whispers the man.
Puri is desperate to look at the woman, but knows better.
“This child could be the answer,” replies Sister Hortensia. “She’s still very small.”
“She’s small, but too large to be a newborn, especially if we’re claiming a premature birth. For the large sum we’re paying, we want a newborn.”
“And you shall have one,” whispers Sister Hortensia. “I only present this as an option because your wife feels uncomfortable with the current situation. Let’s discuss this in my office.”
Puri counts their retreating footsteps on the tile floor. She turns to look. It is not the first time this has happened. Sister Hortensia tells her that some couples feel ashamed they cannot conceive. She says societal pressures are such that on occasion, a woman prefers to fake a pregnancy rather than admit adoption. When that happens they must protect the woman’s secret at all costs. It is a sin to reveal someone else’s secret.
Puri thinks of Ana’s family. As children of Republicans they must carry many secrets. How, then, did Ana manage to get a job at the big American hotel?
Clover cries and Puri moves to inspect her diaper. She is relieved the couple did not choose Clover. The man was dough-faced and grim. She did not like the way he mentioned the large sum of money, nor how that prompted Sister Hortensia to ensure his satisfaction. Clover must have a handsome and kind family. She wishes that one of the brave matadors would adopt the child. A notable Spanish family adopting an orphan would be incredibly touching.
The thought triggers last night’s dream. Puri reaches into her memory, trying to retrieve the quickly fading narrative. A tall matador walks toward her, handsome and graceful. He wears a suit of lights in royal sapphire, covered with glimmering gold accents. She looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back. And that’s when Puri realizes. The matador in the dream is not Ordóñez. It’s Daniel, the Texas cowboy she met on the street.
37
Why does the Valley of the Fallen upset Ana?
Daniel stares at the photos, now taped to the wall of his hotel suite. He shouldn’t have asked her to work on the project. It made her uncomfortable. But when they’re speaking and she’s smiling, he forgets that she’s a hotel employee.
He turns to his father, seated on the small sofa. “How was Valencia?” he asks.
“Wonderful city. Beautiful sea. I would’ve stayed an extra day, but your mother wanted to return for the fashion show at the embassy. Speaking of, you should get dressed. Suit and tie tonight.”
Daniel nods.
Martin Matheson rises from the chair. He stands, looking at his son’s photos affixed to the wall. Please. Just one compliment, thinks Daniel.
Instead, his father starts to laugh. He points to the photo of Nick Van Dorn’s scabbed knuckles. “Pretty undiplomatic for a diplomat’s son. That kid’s a handful, huh?”
Daniel shrugs.
His father clears his throat. “What do you make of Ben, the newspaper man?” asks his dad.
“I like him. Seems like a smart guy. Intense about his job.”
“Most journalists are. They want their story and will do anything to get it. It’s a vicious business. Remember that.” His father makes his way to the door.
The word business reminds him of the telegram. “Say, Dad. There’s something I want to discuss.”
His father stops. “I know.”
“You do?”
He nods, face full of apology. “Dan, I’m sorry.”
His father’s sincerity smooths his annoyance.
“I was waiting for you to tell me,” says his father. “I understand hiding it from your mother. She loves Laura Beth. She’ll be so hurt.”
Laura Beth? His dad thinks he wants to talk about Laura Beth?
“Dad—”
“I know all about it. Someone told your uncle. Laura Beth, she’s just confused. Graduation was overwhelming. You two make a fine couple and she’s from an excellent family. Don’t fret, I’m certain—quite certain—she’ll change her mind.”
A fine couple? They had nothing in common. They only dated a few months, during which she also kissed other guys. Does he know that Laura Beth felt his mom was “too ethnic” and therefore their families weren’t a suitable match?
“It’s okay, Dad, there were problems.”
“Every relationship has problems. Speaking of . . .” His father pauses, as if carefully gathering words. “Daniel, your mother and I have had a bit of a tough time lately. Give her a little extra room if you can. It’s important to her that you’re happy here in Madrid.”
The request takes Daniel by surprise. A tough time? What does that mean? His mind returns to the telegram. He wants to ask questions but something about his father’s expression tells him not to. His dad’s tone, it’s kinder than usual, intentionally easing up on him.
“Okay,” says Daniel.
“Thanks, partner. We’ll leave for the embassy in fifteen minutes.” He exits the room.