MONDAY/TUESDAY

By Julie
juliewriting@hotmail.com

Disclaimers: Fireworks owns 'em. I just hang out with them occasionally and taste the tetilla.
Rating: G
Feedback/Beta: Yes, please

~~~~~

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday child is full of grace;

The air was sweet with the small of the fruits of the land and heavy with the steam of the cooking pots in the kitchen courtyard. Marta pushed a damp strand of hair away from her face and tried vainly to pat it into place. She didn't need a mirror to know that her tresses completely untamed by now.

For a moment she envied the cool, collected appearance of Vera Hidalgo. So beautiful, and yet not even capable of supervising the canning on her own hacienda. Marta let her resentment evaporate as the Dona handed her a cool glass of lemonade.

"Thank you so much for coming, Marta. I don't know how we would have managed this year without you."

Marta smiled in answer, her attention still on the refreshing drink.

"Last year, Rosa took care of everything, and all year long, Gaspar enjoyed the fruits of her labors. But this year..." Vera stopped and gave a graceful shrug. "In many ways, I am not well suited to being a wife in the wilds."

For a moment, Marta was reminded of just how young the Dona was, no older than her own Tessa. So worldly wise in some ways. So naive in others.

"I am sure Senor Hidalgo considers you perfectly suited." Vera smiled and seemed reassured, so Marta moved to another topic. "How is Rosa?"

"She is a terrible patient!" Vera's smile belied the harshness of her words. "She would be here working now if we would permit it, but the doctor was very firm. She is to keep to her bed until the baby is born. We had quite a scare when we thought the child would come too soon."

"It is kind of you to look after so well. Few employers would be so generous."

"It is entirely selfish, I assure you!" Vera laughed, the sound light and airy as a cooling breeze. "Rosa is the only one who can make all the treats just as Gaspar likes them. We could not bear to lose her. Besides, it will be nice to have a baby about the house."

Vera's smile dissolved into a wistful expression. "I would dearly love to have a baby of my own."

"You are young yet, Senora. Your time shall come."

"Do you really think so? Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I think there must be something more I can do."

"A child is a gift from God, and God cannot be rushed."

Vera ignored the words of patience and pressed forward. "I have heard that your people..."

Marta stiffed at the words "your people," but there was no mocking or derision in the young woman's voice, only a hint of desperation.

"... have ways of helping, of assuring a conception. Could you help me in this, Marta? It is my dearest wish."

Marta sighed. She could hear her mother's voice in her mind, warning her not to get entangled in the affairs of these outsiders, that it could only bring trouble. Had not the Gitano suffered enough when sharing their knowledge, facing persecution and accusations of witchery.

"I do not think..."

"Please, Marta."

Her mother and her people were far away now, and she had made the outsiders her family. She looked at the Dona's eyes and saw sincere desire. She touched the Dona's arm and felt a good soul in search of meaning and purpose. A child could provide that to a woman like Vera.

"There can be no assurances."

Vera brightened at the answer. "Oh I understand. The only true assurance can come from God. But..."

"But there are things that might help."

Hope made Vera's face lovelier than ever, and Marta knew she was committed to helping. She only hoped her help would come to good.

END