“Her heart is too soft for this world,” said her mother. “I blame Sor Artemesia for that. María cannot hide her feelings, and she is afflicted with an irritating honesty.”
Matt privately thought that María had been lucky to be raised by the nun rather than her mother. “Very well,” he agreed. “Please call her for me.” Esperanza left the room.
“Whew! Rather you than me dealing with her,” said Dr. Rivas. “She’s not going to leave you two alone, you know, not even at the opposite ends of a wormhole. At least we can give you some privacy. Come on, Cienfuegos.”
“Give us a report later,” said the jefe, grinning wolfishly.
The minutes passed. Matt opened the cylinder and read the list of animals Esperanza wanted: Squirrels, sparrows, pigeons, crows, and rabbits. These were so common it gave Matt a shock to think that they were extinct elsewhere. The door opened and María ran in.
“Matt! Matt! I’ve missed you so much!” she cried. Immediately an arm shot out and grabbed her. “All right, Mother! I know I mustn’t touch the portal.”
“María,” said Matt, and instantly found himself tongue-tied. It was a problem going back to his early childhood. Sometimes things were so overwhelming that the power of speech left him. Now all he could do was look. When he’d had the fever, he had tried to call up María’s image. He could remember her dark hair and eyes, her hands always in motion, but the spirit of her actual presence was missing. Now—infuriatingly!—she was here and he was rendered speechless.
María understood his problem. She always had. “Take your time, mi vida. I have enough conversation for both of us. Gosh, I’m glad to see you! I wish you’d been with me in Nueva York. You would have loved the concert halls and operas. I think you’d have liked the operas. The sets were beautiful, but I kept thinking, ‘How can the heroine stand it when the hero keeps bellowing songs at her face?’ ”
“I want you with me,” Matt managed to say.
“That isn’t going to happen,” said Esperanza from a chair next to the altar cloth.
María laughed delightedly. “Why can’t I visit him, Mother? I used to do it all the time.”
“You were a child then.” Esperanza in her black dress looked like a patch of midnight in the brightly lit convent room.
“It isn’t as though I’d be alone,” argued María. “Father and Emilia can look after me.”
Matt smiled inwardly as he observed Esperanza’s discomfort. Get out of this one if you can, he thought.
But she didn’t even try. “Tell Matt more about your trip to New York.”
And María, swept along on a tide of enthusiasm, obeyed. The buildings were so huge they were like entire cities, she said. Walkways went from one to the other, and you needn’t ever set foot on the ground. Which was good. The streets were dangerous. Every kind of food was available for the city dwellers, although she worried about the people on the street. They didn’t look happy at all, and she wanted to take food to them, but Mother objected.
“That’s right up there with her idea of inviting the homeless in for a bath,” muttered Esperanza.
“Saint Francis would have done it,” María said.
She had learned the latest dances, the fósforo, the paseo de luna, the huka huka (although that was vulgar and not proper for young ladies). The dance instructor got hair oil on her dress while teaching her, and Mother fired him and bought her a new dress. Oh! The clothes in Nueva York were so beautiful! Did Matt know that the latest rage was glow-in-the-dark underwear? Of course you had to wear something transparent over it.
Matt didn’t take in much of what she said, although the glow-in-the-dark underwear caught his attention. Mostly he basked in her warmth. If she were there with him, he knew he could face the terrifying problems hanging over his head.
“Who’s that?” asked María.
Matt snapped to attention and looked around. He half expected to see Cienfuegos eavesdropping, but it was Mirasol.
She must have been in the room all along. Matt was so used to her presence that he’d stopped noticing it. She followed him everywhere, sitting (as she was now) on the floor to await orders. She was wearing a sky-blue dress instead of her waitress uniform, and he wondered where she’d gotten it. She was as different as it was possible to be from María—fair-haired and blue-eyed, with a frosting of freckles instead of María’s magnolia-petal skin. But the main difference, of course, was her behavior. She was utterly passive, with none of María’s fire. She simply waited, her eyes fixed on Matt, for whatever he might require.