After two hours, Puri hears the loud wail of a newborn. The cry is strong and fortified. Good lungs. Vitality. Puri wishes all the orphans at the Inclusa had the strength of this newborn. Especially Clover. Will the handsome couple decide to adopt her?
A man rushes through the door of the clinic. His face is flushed and glistens with sweat. “I came as soon as I was able. My wife is Señora Sánchez. How is she?”
Puri knows that only the doctor can provide information. During her training that rule was drilled repeatedly. She was quizzed on it.
“I’ll let the doctor know you are here.” Puri smiles, wishing she could share the happy news with the perspiring father. She heads through the door and down the hall to the nurse’s area. A nun, still wearing a birthing apron, holds the bundled newborn in a white swaddle. The doctor stands next to her.
“The father has just arrived,” announces Puri.
“And what did you tell him?” asks the doctor.
“That I would inform you of his arrival.”
“Very good,” he nods. “Purificación, as I explained, the mothers are given a sedative during the birthing process. This helps them rest. Please sit with Señora Sánchez. You are to come to me if you note any changes in her color or breathing, or if she wakes up.”
Puri enters the room quietly. The woman lies tucked in bed, a starched white sheet pulled up to her shoulders. She’s very pretty. Her color is quite good and her breathing is steady and deep. She is fast asleep, probably dreaming of her new baby.
Puri sits in the chair next to the bed. Over an hour passes. The woman’s eyelids begin to flutter.
“El bebé.”
“Sí, señora,” says Puri. “I’ll get the doctor.”
Puri rushes down the hallway to the doctor’s office. She finds him sitting behind his desk, making notes in a file.
“The mother is awake, Doctor.”
“Gracias. You may return to the front desk.”
Puri makes her way to the front desk. The baby’s father sits in the lobby, face cupped in his hands. His shoulders wrench up and down. He is crying.
“Señor, whatever is the matter?”
The man looks up at Puri, his face red and swollen with grief. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell my wife.”
“Tell her what?”
“That our baby . . .” He can barely speak. “That our baby has died.”
Puri backs away from the man, as if the words he speaks are from the devil himself.
No, it is not possible.
She heard the healthy lungs for herself.
No.
She sat with the mother, whose cheeks blushed with fresh roses. Puri bangs through the door and spots the doctor in the hall.
“Doctor!”
The doctor puts a calm, pale finger to his thin lips, calling for silence.
“But . . . the baby’s father,” whispers Puri. “He thinks the child has died.”
The doctor puts a hand on Puri’s shoulder.
“I can see you are shaken. That is entirely understandable. If eel so easily disrupts your constitution, an incident of infant death will of course take its toll. Go home and rest, my dear.”
Puri shakes her head slowly. Her feet are anchored to the floor.
The doctor’s voice pulls taut. “You must steel yourself against these tragedies. Sadly, they’re not uncommon,” he says. “Many of these mothers, they don’t take care of themselves during pregnancy. They don’t eat properly. Some drink in excess. That weakens the fetus. But some are lucky. God will smile upon them and grant them another chance, another child. Perhaps they already have other children. But for now, the punishing consequences of their own neglectful behavior are difficult to accept.”
Puri stares at the doctor.
He nods. “Yes. You must pray for this young mother. And speak of it to no one. If you are strong of faith, you will not even mention it to your parents. Remember, Purificación, it is a sin to reveal someone else’s secret.”
102
“Lo siento, Puri. Ana is working. She can’t take a break right now,” explains Carlitos on the sidewalk.
“But did you tell her that I was here?” asks Puri.
“Sí. I told her. Why don’t you speak with her brother?”
Puri turns to see her cousin Rafa heading toward them on the sidewalk.
“Rafa!”
“¡Hola, Puri!” Rafa kisses his cousin on both cheeks. “Hola, Carlitos. I need to speak with Ana.”
“Ay, she’s busy, Rafa. I just told your cousin the same thing.”
Rafa looks out at the street, as if the traffic sends him advice. “Well, actually, I hoped to get a message to her friend, the Texano. I don’t imagine he’s around?”
Carlitos raises a finger. “¡Sí! He is having a milkshake in the restaurant. I will go get him.” The small boy races off.
“How do you know the Texano?” asks Puri.
“Purificación, how do you know the Texano?” teases Rafa. “Have you been meeting with American boys?”
Anger rises. She has questions and is only looking for answers. “No! I am not doing anything wrong!”
“Ay, Puri. ¿Qué pasa?” asks Rafa. “I was only teasing.”
Puri sighs. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”
“Still working at the Inclusa?” asks Rafa.
Puri nods.
“Still a steady flow of orphans?”
“Of course there are. There are always people who don’t want their children.”
“No,” says Rafa. “People always want their children. But sometimes life commands other things.”
Is Rafa talking about his own mother? She thinks of the letter she saw in the file at the Inclusa. José will be better off with an adoptive family.
Rafa is wrong. Not everyone wants their children.
103
Daniel appears on the sidewalk, carrying his camera. He smiles while chatting with the bellboy, and Puri notices his white teeth against his deeply tanned skin. His plaid shirt hangs open, revealing a white T-shirt stirring atop his large belt buckle as he walks. Daniel lifts a hand in a wave. He is so handsome. Almost as handsome as Ordóñez, thinks Puri.
Almost.