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14
Isabella sat in the courtyard. She had planned to go out early to ride, but no one had been available to act as an escort, and her mother had asked her to wait. Strangely enough, Isabella had thought of Aaron and asked if he might escort her but was told he was in a meeting with her father.
She sat and pondered what to do. She still hadn’t spoken to her father about her harsh words and actions of the last few years. She’d seen very little of Aaron or her father, in fact. These last few weeks her father had been resting and doing as the doctor ordered, which meant any work was conducted from bed. As March began to warm up a bit, word came that her father was feeling much better. Isabella had visited him frequently but always held off on bringing up the past. The timing just never felt right.
“I wondered if I’d find you here,” her mother said, coming to join her.
“It’s turning out to be such a nice day. I thought I’d enjoy the quiet of the morning this way instead of riding.”
“I’m sorry you couldn’t go. It’s not that this area is horribly dangerous, but there are hazards. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“What kind of hazards?”
“Oh, there are snakes, sometimes wild animals. Occasionally we’ve had a rough character show up. Usually your father is able to charm him or help him to see that he shouldn’t stay if he can’t be useful.”
“I’ve always been amazed by Papi’s ability to change people.”
“He doesn’t so much change them as help them see themselves as they are. Some people rush to become better. Others move on because they can’t bear being seen for who they are.”
“I understand. Maybe that’s why I wanted to stay away.” She looked at her mother, who seemed happier than she had in days. “Is Papi feeling better?”
“He is. He’s better than I’ve seen him in some time. I guess the bed rest did the trick.”
Isabella toyed with the leaf of a nearby plant. “Mama, I have a confession to make.”
Her mother raised a brow. “What kind of confession?”
“One of apology. I’ve been very convicted of my bad approach to your desires for me. I’ve had my mind set on what I wanted to accomplish and have given little concern to you and Papi.”
Her mother’s surprised expression told Isabella she hadn’t anticipated this confession.
“I want you to understand my heart, Mama. From the time we moved here, I felt that the life I loved was over. Even after my horse Lucy joined us, it still felt as if you had taken everything away from me.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Isabella turned toward her mother, who took a seat on a wrought-iron bench to the right. “I was so angry. I felt betrayed by you and Papi. I hated you both for taking mefrom our home, and yet I loved you and couldn’t reconcile my anger. I’ve been so unhappy all these years.”
“But I thought you loved living with Josephina.”
“I did, to a degree. But strangely enough, it did feel empty sometimes. That first year I spent the summer there, I tried to recapture the way it had all been. Nothing much had changed in the house or on the grounds, but Abuelita and Abuelito were gone, you and Papi were gone, and my terrible feelings toward you wouldn’t even allow me to enjoy my memories.”
“Why did you want to live there, then?”
Isabella stood and paced on the tiled walk. “Because I did love it for a while, and I suppose because I wanted to punish you by leaving you alone. I’m not entirely sure I understand it myself. Nothing felt the same after you left.” She paused. “But then I began to see Diego more. I had always been fond of him. Well, more than that. I’d been infatuated with him since I was a child. He was exciting and adventurous. He told me wonderful stories, and when I returned to California all grown up, or nearly so, he saw me as a woman, and everything changed.”
Mama looked sad and sat in silence, worrying her lower lip. Was she afraid of what had taken place between Diego and her daughter? Isabella sought to ease her concerns.
“Nothing has ever happened between us. You needn’t worry about that.” She reclaimed her seat. “We’ve kissed a few times, but nothing more.”
“You must talk to your father about Diego. He tried to see the young man as a prospective husband, but there were just too many reasons he wasn’t acceptable. I think the time has come that you should know everything.”
Isabella tried for once to see it through her mother’s eyes. “I’m sure you wanted better for me. Perhaps even someonehere so I would stay and help with the various charities and ministries.”
“We wanted you happy, and a man like Diego is only interested in making himself happy,” Mama answered. “You must understand that. He may show you attention and kindness, even passion, but those things will fade. He is thirty-five, Isabella. A full-grown man, yet he talks about the trouble he’s caused as nothing more than boyish pranks and sowing his wild oats. Were he only twenty-five, as you are, that might be a more acceptable excuse, but even at twenty-five, a third of his life was spent with nothing to show for it. He should have long ago taken on career responsibilities so that he could marry and have a family.”
Isabella hadn’t really thought of it that way. Goodness, she was twenty-five and had nothing to show for her life. Did Mama think she’d wasted her life as well? She started to comment, but her mother continued.
“Most men by your age are settled in a career, at a minimum. They’ve attended whatever school or training they need. Some apprentice with others or work at their father’s side, but Diego did nothing. He didn’t show interest in anything but entertaining himself and partying with his friends.”
