Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [99]
“And now that you’ve been here for a week,” Ana asked, “have you seen anything that merits gossip?”
Leonor thought for a moment. There was no use criticizing Ana; she’d be herself no matter what. But Leonor couldn’t let her off easily. “In your letters, you didn’t mention that Ramón was unwell.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you. We were all horrified, of course, by Inocente’s murder. But Ramón naturally took it the hardest.”
“How many times did I ask about him, and you never wrote back that he was sick?”
“He’s not sick, doña Leonor. He’s grieving. We all are, as a matter of fact. As far as we can tell Ramón isn’t ill, he’s … well, he’s tired. He doesn’t sleep well. You might’ve heard him leave our bedroom at night,” she added, knowing that no movement in the small, creaky house could pass undetected. “He walks around the batey until he’s tired enough to sleep. The guards know to keep an eye on him. Severo has come after him a few times, and has brought him to rest in the finca, where we keep an office. People grieve in their own way, doña Leonor, and in their own time. He lost the person closest to him in the whole world. That’s not something one gets over easily.”
“You forget who you’re speaking to.” Leonor puffed her chest indignantly. “I lost a son!”
“Yes. Yes, I know. And I didn’t want to add to your sorrow, or to worry you needlessly.”
“Needlessly? Have you seen him, Ana? Ramón is bone thin. He hasn’t shaved in weeks. And he smells. Have you noticed the bags under his eyes, his yellow skin? I hardly recognized my own son when I first saw him.…” Leonor tried to control the tears that pushed against her lids, the rage at Ana’s nonchalance that made her hands shake and her voice brittle. “It seems to me that anyone with an ounce of concern would notice that Ramón is not just in mourning, he’s sick and needs a doctor, a doctor, Ana, not the slaves’ curandera.”
“Siña Damita is very capable.”
“You selfish girl! Why must you always have your way when others are clearly suffering?”
Ana sought and held Leonor’s eyes, as if she could climb through them into the older woman’s soul.
“You’ve never liked me, doña Leonor. But it was I who gave your sons ambition. They were floundering when we met, aimless. More than living up to a reputation as dandies, gamblers, and womanizers. I gave their lives a purpose, doña Leonor; I, not you, who pampered and indulged them. I gave them something to work toward. I gave them meaning, and more besides. My hard work and my fortune have gone into this plantation. Hacienda los Gemelos is our plantation, not just mine, ours.”
“How dare you speak to me like this!”
Leonor realized she’d raised her voice when Inés and Elena stopped swinging Miguel and watched Ana and Leonor as if they were spectators at a performance.
“You feel perfectly free to criticize me, to call me selfish and who knows what else behind my back,” Ana continued, oblivious to the stares of the others. “But you don’t like it as much when I tell you the truth to your face.”
Leonor stood and placed herself between the seated Ana and the rope swing. “You’re an insolent little bitch,” she said, loud enough for Ana, but not the others, to hear. “You take credit for my sons’ industry, for their ambition. But are you also willing to take the blame for Inocente’s murder?” Ana winced, and Leonor continued. “You drove him from here, why and how I don’t know. But in his last letter to me, that he composed, by the way, in his own hand, he said that he couldn’t bear to be here any longer. He couldn’t bear it.”
Ana closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering strength, then again focused on Leonor, but this time the older woman, standing over her, didn’t flinch.
“He was jealous of Ramón. He envied our lives as husband and wife, as parents. You taught them to share everything, but some things shouldn’t be shared.”
“What do you mean by—”
“Inocente couldn’t stand it if Ramón had something he didn’t.” Ana took a deep breath and studied Leonor, assessing how much to say. She saw Miguel on the swing, his head turned toward her with