Chapter 93: Nightmares
I sighed despairingly as I looked out the window. It had, after all, rained that afternoon—a steady shower that lasted until the late hours of the day. When the clouds finally cleared, the sun reappeared, already beginning to set. Its tawny rays pierced through, making the wet leaves of the trees and the blades of grass glisten.
It had only been hours earlier that I had so hopefully told Don delos Santos I would try my luck this week. I wondered if he was growing tired of me.
First, he had discouraged me from joining the workers in the field earlier, and ignoring him, I had made a fool of myself. It was becoming increasingly likely that there would be a repeat. I’d be waiting in Kasily like a fool, hoping the fields would dry within a day—partly urged by the desire to provide company to a grieving girl.
Maybe my presence did offer some comfort. But was I really that necessary? There was even a chance I was prolonging her grief just by being here.
"Don Suarez’s clothes do fit you, Señor Heneral," the elderly maid commented from behind me. She had been in the front sala for a while, wiping down the mahogany table where we had eaten lunch with the juez.
I leaned away from the window to smile at her, then glanced at the clothes I was wearing. The white camesita and trousers were slightly baggy, but those were the very qualities that made house clothes comfortable. Which was odd, since the old man looked a lot smaller than me.
"Yes... thank you for this one," I said.
She paused her wiping of the already gleaming tabletop to shake her head. Then she picked up the broom to tackle the dusty floor.
"Do not thank me, Señor. It was the señorita who frantically searched the cabinets to find clothes that would suit you. She realized you wouldn’t fit in her father’s clothes, so she had to check the old cabinets for Don Suarez’s," she said with a chuckle.