by Jo Worthington
“Ay Dios mio, Diego, will you please just sit down and drink this.”
“Father, he will think his papá is a borracho if I drink more wine.”
“So you think you will have a son, Diego?”
“I am certain of it, father. I have felt it would be a boy for a very long time.” He winced at the sound of his wife moaning in pain.
Bernardo felt very sorry for Diego and he too, cringed at the sound of Anna Maria crying out from upstairs. “Diego is fortunate,” Bernardo thought. “He is only feeling the pain of his wife. I am feeling her agony and his.” He sat silently, not knowing how he could ease the pain of his friend and master. There was nothing he could do for poor Anna Maria. That was women’s work. How long could they all stand this torture?
Once more Don Alejandro looked at the large clock. Only a few minutes had passed since the last time he checked. “Diego, please sit down.”
“No Father, I will go upstairs. If I could hold her hand maybe …”
“Diego, believe me she does not need you to hold her hand. Cresencia is with her, Milana is there and the doctor. Women go through these things. Anna Maria is strong and healthy. She will be all right. Just sit down.”
Finally he relented. Diego took one more cigar and lit it with a stick from the fire. Collapsing more than sitting, he accepted yet another small glass of wine from his father. Staring into the fire, it did not take long for Diego’s head to fall to one side in the high-backed chair.
Quietly Bernardo took the glass from one of Diego’s hands and slipped the cigar from the other.
“At last,” Don Alejandro said to Bernardo.
Anna Maria had started her labors just after midnight. It was now almost noon. She must be so very exhausted and he could do nothing for her. He had done this to her … It seemed such a short time ago that they were married.
In a shallow sleep his dreams danced to the music of their wedding night. It was almost 2:00 in the morning and Anna Maria had gone upstairs. He would wait a while and then he would go to her. At this moment she was in his room - in their room.
He decided not to make a spectacle of himself by going upstairs for all the remaining guests to see. He would enter the secret passageway through the bookcase in the sala. But his father was in the sala talking to several of the neighboring dons.
Diego made a face at his father and gestured with his eyes to the bookcase.
“Come, amigos, it is warm in here.” With arms spread magnanimously and trying not to smile too broadly, Don Alejandro ushered his friends toward the door. “Let us go back to the patio and the music.” He acknowledged Diego’s small salute with a wink and out they went.
Diego bounded up the winding stairs of the secret passageway, pausing to catch his breath a little. In the secret room he looked at his black cape and the hat hanging over it and the idea came to him.
Dressed fully in black, the masked Zorro turned the ring and the door to his room opened quietly. There, lying still and serene on the bed where he had slept alone for so many years was his beautiful wife. Her black wavy hair, a dark soft halo on the white pillow. Once more he had to catch his breath.
“Anna Maria.” His voice barely a whisper.
She turned her head and in a graceful motion she rose and went to her husband. She had bare feet and appeared small next to him. He bent to kiss her and felt her shiver with cold against him. Zorro held his new wife close to him and enshrouded her slowly and completely in his black cape. They stood together in the dim light. He wanted to absorb her and never let her go. He was afraid of what he felt for Anna Maria. He did not want to hurt her and in this moment he feared that he might. He tried to pull away but she held him close. They could no more pull apart from each other than the dark from the night.
“Now, my dear, you are doing very well. Soon it will be over. Cresencia, wipe her forehead and Milana hold her hand tight.”
She did not want to scream out loud. She was a lady always. Anna Maria clenched her teeth and closed her eyes and then she groaned and the groan became a scream.
Diego shot to his feet and started to bolt from the room but his father, Bernardo and now Señor Verdugo were there to stop him.
“My wife is screaming in pain. I have done this to her and you tell me it is not my place to be with her! I am telling you it is!”
The three men were not enough to stop Diego. Don Alejandro knew it was useless to try to stop his son. It was not the first time he had felt the brute strength of Zorro.
Diego ran up the stairs. Pausing at the door to gain control, he opened it slowly.
The room felt warm and close. He saw the doctor’s back. Cresencia was on one side of the bed bent over Anna Maria. On the other side of the bed Milana was weeping softly.
The doctor handed a tiny bundle to Cresencia and turned to face Diego.
The hot room began to whirl before his eyes. It was so strangely still and Diego feared the worst. He leaned heavily against the doorframe.
“No, no, no.” Diego heard himself saying.
“Diego, she had a difficult time." The doctor looked at him and saw his face go pale.
"No, no my son, she is all right. Go to her!”
Diego looked upon the face of his exhausted wife. She lifted her hand to him and he flew to her and knelt on the floor next to the bed and buried his face in the rumpled sheets.
“Diego, look. Look at our baby.”
Cresencia placed the little bundle in Anna Maria’s arms. She parted the blanket and together for the first time Anna Maria and Diego gazed upon the face of their beautiful tiny daughter.
Diego felt a wave of emotion tightening in his chest. He bent and kissed his wife on her forehead, drawing his lips down to the tip of her nose and then to her warm sweet lips. She smiled softly at him and he could see she was going to fall asleep. She flinched as he took the baby from her arms.
“I will hold her, mi amor, you sleep a little.”
Diego looked down at his daughter’s tiny red face and her mop of black hair. He touched her head with his lips and inhaled her fragrance deeply. She was a flower in the meadow, sun warmed and honey sweet. He held her close against his chest until Anna Maria awoke to the sound of their baby’s soft cry, like that of a small kitten.
He placed the baby gently into her mother’s arms. And to Anna Maria, this beautiful baby who had smelled so like flowers to her father, now smelled very much like good wine and expensive cigars.
