She spoke in a rushing torrent of phrases, blowing her nose to avoid crying, trying to retain some dignity.
She went on to add that Ichimei lived on a spiritual plane and was always going to be a simple gardener rather than develop his enormous artistic talent or to try to turn his flower nursery into a proper business; nothing like that, he didn’t want more, he was satisfied to earn just what he needed to get by and wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about prosperity or success; his passions were meditation and calmness, but they didn’t put food on the table and she wasn’t going to start a family in a wooden shack with a tin roof and live among gardeners with spades in their hands.
“I know, Nathaniel, forgive me, you warned me a thousand times and I didn’t listen, you were right, you’re always right, I can see now I can’t marry Ichimei, but I can’t stop loving him either, without him I’d wither away like a plant in the desert, I’d die, and from now on I’ll be more careful, we’ll take precautions, this won’t happen again, I promise you, Nathaniel, I swear.” She went on talking and talking without pause, the excuses and sense of guilt welling up alternately, while Nathaniel listened without interrupting until she had run out of breath and her voice had died down to a murmur.
“Let’s see if I understand you, Alma. You’re pregnant but aren’t thinking of telling Ichimei,” Nathaniel concluded.
“I can’t have a child outside of wedlock, Nat. You have to help me. You’re the only person I can turn to.”
“An abortion? That’s illegal and dangerous. Don’t count on me for that, Alma.”
“Listen, Nat. I’ve looked into it and it’s safe, there’s no risk and it would only cost a hundred dollars—but you have to come with me, because it’s in Tijuana.”
“Tijuana? Abortion is illegal in Mexico too, Alma. This is crazy!”
“It’s much more dangerous here, Nat. In Mexico there are doctors who perform the operation under the noses of the police, and nobody cares.”
Alma showed him a scrap of paper with a phone number on it, and explained that she had already called up and spoken to someone named Ramón. A man had answered in terrible English, asking her who had sent her and if she knew the conditions. She gave him the name of her contact, assured him she would pay cash, and they agreed that in two days’ time he would pick her up in his car at three in the afternoon on a specific corner in Tijuana.
“Did you tell this Ramón you’ll be accompanied by a lawyer?” asked Nathaniel, tacitly accepting the role she had given him.
* * *