The Fountains of Silence(110)

“Bienvenido, caballero,” says Antonio.

Their greetings are genuine and warm, but Julia’s face carries the ceaseless weight of secrets. Her eyes snap like a camera shutter across the lobby.

“I wasn’t certain we should come,” says Julia.

“I chose a private table in the back,” says Daniel.

“Gracias,” replies Antonio, taking a seat. “I told her we must come. What Ana has told us is what our hearts have told us for years.”

Daniel removes a photograph from his wallet. Heart pounding, he passes it to Julia.

“?Ay, Dios Mío!” Julia’s hands tremble. She begins to cry.

“Virgen Santa,” breathes Antonio. “Rafa’s matador, he was right all along.” They stare at the image, nodding.

“You call her Cristina,” says Antonio.

“Sí. Cristina María Alonso Moya Matheson.”

“Muy guapa,” sighs Julia.

“My father said Cristina’s file at the Inclusa claimed she was sin datos,” says Daniel. “The Inclusa told my parents that Cristina’s birthday is estimated around March twenty-second but Ana tells me that Lali’s birthday is February twentieth.”

“The twins were premature. They were so tiny,” says Ana. “Daniel and I now wonder if they intentionally separated the birth dates? Maybe the Inclusa wanted people to think they were adopting a child closer to a newborn?”

“And maybe they wanted to put physical distance between twins,” says Daniel.

Julia wrings her hands in her lap. “Se?or Matheson—”

“Please, I’d prefer if you both call me Daniel.”

“Daniel,” begins Julia. “Please know that we accuse you of nothing. So many years have passed. You were just a boy. But your sister and my daughter look to be identical. I held the girls in my arms shortly after they were born. I kissed them both, as a new mother does, from head . . . to toe,” she emphasizes. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He nods. “Of course.” His nod halts and his eyes expand. “Wait. I do understand.”

“?Sí?” asks Julia. Her hands clasp with attendant hope.

“Sí, her baby toe.”

“Which foot?” asks Antonio.

“Her left foot. I call it the little clover,” says Daniel.

Antonio claps his hands to his knees. Ana wraps an arm around Julia.

“Is that correct?” asks Daniel.

“Sí,” says Antonio. “Years ago, when Rafa and Fuga believed something was happening, they thought it might involve hundreds of children.”

“Once Spain transitions maybe the adoptions will be acknowledged in some way,” says Daniel.

Julia smiles. “You’re an optimist. For now the acknowledgment will be between us. Please, let’s proceed carefully,” says Julia.

“I think my father would like that too. But there’s a complication. I’m not sure if you know, but when I met Ana eighteen years ago—” Daniel takes her hand.

“Amigo,” says Antonio, laughing. “Trust me, we know. We know!”

“They know,” agrees Ana. “They’ve put up with my crying for years.”

“Ay, how she lamented. ‘Daniel, her Daniel,’ like The Lovers of Teruel!” says Julia with a flap of her hand. She pauses, then releases a genuine smile. “But truly, I’m so happy for my sister.”

“So, you see, I don’t want to keep our families apart,” says Daniel.

“We appreciate your patience. Julia and I will certainly discuss it,” nods Antonio.

“Nick says there’s a reception in the Toledo Room of the hotel this afternoon,” says Ana. “Apparently, many people will be mingling so you can see her and it won’t feel forced.” She turns to Julia. “Cristina’s stunning and speaks lovely Spanish. But you must brace yourself. She’s quite American.”

“I don’t care what she is,” whispers Julia. “She’s my daughter.”





This was a fascinating period to be there because to watch a country that has been almost 40 years under a dictatorship gradually turn itself into basically a very successful democracy is, from a professional point of view, a fascinating thing to watch.


—WELLS STABLER, U.S. ambassador to Spain (1975–1978) Oral History Interview Excerpt, February 1991

Foreign Affairs Oral History Collection

Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training Arlington, VA www.adst.org





147



“I don’t think I ever saw this part of the hotel,” says Daniel.

“Like the Placita, the Toledo Room is preserved from the original palace,” Ana explains.

“You were going to give me a full tour years ago but we became distracted with other things.”

“Which I’m hoping happens again soon.” She smiles.

“Hola, buddy!” bellows Nick from the hallway. “Come with me.” He corrals Daniel down the corridor to the Toledo Room and throws open the door.

“?Bienvenido!” cheers a small group of people.

Daniel looks around. Who are they welcoming? Wait—him? The reception is for him?