“Yes, Sister.”
“You were raised speaking Spanish in Texas?”
“Yes, Mother was from Galicia and insisted that we speak Spanish.”
“And you’ve been raised in the Catholic Church?”
“Yes, Sister.”
“And how are your parents?”
“Mother died six years ago.”
“Oh, dear girl.” Puri’s face pinches with distress.
“My brother and father have done a wonderful job, though.”
“Is your father still working in oil?” she asks.
“Oh, you remember our father?” asks Daniel.
Puri pauses, then shakes her head quickly. “Many oil men were in Madrid at the time.”
“Yes, our father is still very successful in oil,” says Cristina. “Daniel works with him . . . well, he was a great photographer but quit when Mom died. He came home to help raise me.”
Puri nods carefully. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I graduated in May with high honors, Sister, and I’ve been accepted to Vanderbilt University. I had my debutante ball last year.”
Puri’s face brightens. “My, how wonderful. What a blessed child you are. Such a lovely young lady with a caring and successful family. Your future sounds plentiful with opportunity.”
Daniel watches Puri. She’s sincere but solemn. Detached. He vaguely remembers her as a giddy girl, someone who asked a lot of questions. But something has stolen the light from her eyes. Puri must favor her father’s side. She’s Ana’s cousin, but looks nothing like her. Puri must see the resemblance between Cristina and Lali. Does she pretend not to? Is that why she seems so unnerved by their conversation? Of course she has no idea that he has reunited with Ana.
“If my birth parents ever came to inquire about me, would there be record of it?” asks Cristina.
Her question pains Daniel. He has to tell his sister.
Puri shakes her head. “As you said, you were sin datos. You arrived with no name, no information. You were likely issued a number. Upon your adoption, a birth certificate was created. In Spain, the adoptive parents are listed as the birth parents.”
Cristina nods acceptingly. “Would it be possible to take a tour of the Inclusa? I’d like to see where I slept and played.”
“There’s not much to see. Our Inclusa is much quieter these days. We don’t have nearly as many children. If you were here for a short time as an infant, you would have been in the nursery,” says Puri. “But if you’d like, I can ask someone to guide you through.”
Puri enlists the help of a young aide to assist Cristina.
“I’ll wait here for you,” he tells his sister.
Puri rises to leave.
“Sister Purificación. Please, stay a moment?”
149
Puri sits, staring at Daniel. He’s relaxed. Quietly confident. So handsome. And so unaware.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says.
Puri manages a smile.
“I’m wondering, Sister. Are there many adoptive families who come from outside of Spain?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” shrugs Puri. She carefully rests her clasped hands on the table. “Señor Matheson, what a beautiful life your sister has. Clearly, she wants for nothing and every opportunity lies before her. It brings me indescribable joy to see how profoundly she has benefitted from adoption. That’s not always the case.”
Daniel looks at her and Puri’s nerves begin to tingle. Why does he stare like that? Could he know something? She feels compelled to fill the space.
“You mentioned you were here before. Do you remember our former director, Sister Hortensia? Sister has gone with God, but was responsible for most of the adoptions.”
“Yes, I vaguely remember her,” says Daniel.
“She would have placed your sister. She placed so many. Plenty have returned looking for her”—she clears her throat—“and I imagine many more will come.”
Daniel says nothing, just nods. Silence continues to tick between them.
The look on his face. Discomfort. “Are you unwell, Señor Matheson?”
“Forgive me, Sister. I’m very well, just a bit disappointed that you don’t remember me. I came here with a lot of questions. I still remember the day we spoke in front of the hotel. You told me I was terrible with secrets and that I liked your cousin Ana. You were right. I did like Ana. And you were also right—I’m terrible with secrets. I don’t like them.”
But he has no real intimacy with secrets, thinks Puri. His genes are true to his name.
“Sister, could you have known who Cristina’s birth parents were?”
Puri’s face fills with sadness. She still does not know who her own birth parents are. “You speak of knowing, Señor Matheson. The time you speak of, I would have been a teenager, a frightened teenager, at that. My ‘knowing’ was probably quite limited. Through my own struggles I’ve learned that knowing is something that evolves. What we think we know can be quite far from the truth. If we continue to seek and ask questions, we may one day find our way into the answers. But sometimes the answers only lead to more questions.”
Daniel sits, absorbing her words. “Speaking of questions, what if one day I was to reunite with Ana . . . permanently.”
Puri smiles wide. Her face is completely transformed by authentic joy. “Oh, that would be wonderful! Ana is a beautiful human being. She deserves every happiness.”
“I agree. Of course I have no way of knowing how things will progress. But I’m hopeful.” Daniel shrugs and smiles. “I’m just trying to imagine the blending of our families—Julia, Antonio, Rafa, my father”—he pauses—“Julia’s daughter, Lali, together with my sister, Cristina. I’m told they’re the same age.” He gives a questioning look. “Perhaps they’ll have things in common and become friends?”
Is Daniel speaking hypothetically or does he really know something? He’s treading suspicion, searching for air between a break in the waves. She knows exactly what it feels like and she feels badly for him. He has the desire to search and turn over rocks, but also the fear of what might lie beneath. Fear. It’s kept her mute and alone for many years.
“Friends,” says Puri quietly. “Yes, maybe they could be friends. Maybe one day we could all be friends.”
Daniel pauses. “Forgive me for saying so, Sister Purificación, but your path to the religious order has surprised me. But I’m happy you have found contentment,” he says.