by Price, Sarah
He hadn’t awoken until almost noon, a fact that had not escaped Lizzie’s attention.
“Sure knows how to sleep,” Lizzie said while she washed garden dirt from her hands at the kitchen sink.
“Mamm!”
Lizzie raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, that all-too-familiar disapproving look on her face. She’d said no more as she merely walked over to Elias and unlocked the brakes on his wheelchair so that she could take him outside for a breath of fresh air.
Nothing more had been said about Alejandro sleeping late. Amanda knew better than to make excuses for her husband; her mother wouldn’t understand, and the rest of her family didn’t particularly care. But when he had finally risen and entered the kitchen for coffee, Amanda could tell that his mood was not greatly improved from what it had been the previous day.
Now, as she continued to milk the cow, her cheek pressed against the bovine’s rump, Amanda pretended not to know that he stood there watching her. She felt her heart race, anxiety coursing through her body, as she hoped that his silent surveillance meant that his mood had improved. Usually, it meant that he was deep in thought, the act of observing others a mask that obscured whatever else was going through his mind. He’d address her when he was ready, and Amanda knew that there was no point in pushing him.
Beside her, Isadora draped her body over Amanda’s knee and giggled when Amanda squirted a little milk toward her bare toes.
“She should wear shoes out here,” Alejandro said, finally making his presence known.
Amanda looked up, feigning surprise at seeing Alejandro leaning against the rough-hewn wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Gut nochmidawk!” she said, a happy smile on her face. “It’s a beautiful afternoon, ja?”
Isadora grabbed at Amanda’s skirt, swinging back and forth as she sang “Gut nochmidawk! Gut nochmidawk!”
Amanda laughed and reached over to embrace the child. “That’s right! Good afternoon to your daed, ja?”
At the mention of her father, Isadora glanced over to where he stood, and Amanda followed her gaze. He hadn’t laughed at his daughter nor did he smile at Amanda. Instead, he seemed deep in thought, his eyes focused on them, but his mind centered elsewhere.
“Come, Alejandro,” Amanda said, gesturing with her hand for him to join them. “Show Izzie that you know how to milk the cow. Maybe then she won’t be so afraid, ja?”
To her surprise, he did as she asked. Amanda stood up and motioned toward the stool and was even more surprised when he accepted it.
Amanda knelt down and gently leaned against him, her side pressed against his thigh and Isadora quickly settling into her arms. Amanda watched the girl’s face as she peered up at the man she knew as her father in name only. There was a mixture of curiosity in Isadora’s eyes as well as a yearning to feel love and a tendency toward fear. With the comfort of Amanda’s arms around her, Isadora leaned against Alejandro’s leg, too, and let herself relax just enough to watch what he was doing.
The stream of milk hit the side of the metal pail, the little tingling sound causing Isadora to jump a little. Amanda thought she saw a hint of a smile on Alejandro’s lips. When Isadora realized what had happened, she clapped her hands and demanded more.
“Let her try, ja?”
Amanda took Isadora’s hand and placed it in Alejandro’s, pausing just long enough for the three of their hands to be united. She held her breath, waiting to see what Alejandro would do, especially when she withdrew her own fingers, leaving father and daughter hand in hand.
He coaxed Isadora to touch the cow’s teat one more time, only this time he left his hand on top of hers and helped her to roll her fingers downward so that milk streamed into the bucket. Isadora did it again, this time needing less pressure from her father. Delighted, Amanda watched as Isadora lifted her blue eyes and sought his.
But if she sought approval, she received none.
Instead, Alejandro cleared his throat and stood up, his abrupt action almost knocking Amanda to her knees.
“Alejandro?” she asked, questioning him with her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He pointed toward Isadora’s feet. “Shoes,” he said and turned around, walking away from both his wife and his daughter, giving no reason for his sudden departure.
Amanda watched him leave, wondering what she could have possibly said or done that upset him. She had noticed his quiet mood, a mood that felt heavy and oppressive as it lingered between her and Isadora, like a heavy fog in the fields behind the barn on a muggy spring morning.
“¡Vaca!” Isadora cried out, reaching toward the cow.
“Nee, Izzie,” Amanda said, redirecting her own attention to where it belonged: on the five-year-old. “Cow. Can you say ‘cow’?”
“¡Vaca!” she insisted to Amanda, a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes.
“Cow!”
Isadora giggled again and buried her face in Amanda’s leg, mumbling “cow” into her skirt.
Forgetting about Alejandro and his moodiness, Amanda started to laugh and wrapped her arms around the little girl. Only, she didn’t think of her as a little girl; she thought of her as her daughter. “Aren’t you the sneaky one, ja? You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?” To her delight, Isadora threw her arms around Amanda’s neck and hugged her. “Oh, Izzie!” she said as she inhaled the sweet scent of innocence in her arms. “I just love you so much!”
“Mammi,” Isadora whispered, squeezing Amanda as tightly as she could.
The word took Amanda by surprise, and for a second she thought she had misheard the little girl. After all, over the past month, Isadora had not called her anything at all. To Amanda, the sound of that word was sweeter than any other. If her heart had swelled with emotion for Isadora before that moment, now she felt as if it would burst open. In that moment, Amanda knew that she felt more love for Izzie than ever before.
Fast on the heels of that realization came another: Alejandro.
A chill ran through her body, and her arms felt tingly and cold. Amanda looked over Isadora’s head and stared at the place vacated by Alejandro less than five minutes before. She could still visualize his eyes, the expression on his face as he observed them interacting with each other by the side of the cow. He had watched them, and he had known exactly what Amanda had just learned.
“I’m leaving for Los Angeles,” Alejandro said, his voice flat and emotionless.
“When?”
He hesitated, darkness clouding his face.
“Alejandro?” Amanda had just tucked Isadora into her bed and returned to the kitchen. Her body ached, and she felt tired. Juggling Isadora’s clinginess and Alejandro’s dark mood had simply worn her out. Now this announcement? Just one more thing to worry about, she thought.
“Tomorrow.” The muscles tightened in his jaw. He was clenching his teeth, another indicator that his black mood from earlier in the day still lingered.
“When will you be back?”
This time, he frowned. “I have obligations, Amanda. The European tour starts in two weeks.” His words were stilted and curt, as if he chose them carefully.
Europe. She had forgotten about Europe. The idea of leaving Lancaster to travel around another continent, of being chauffeured from one place to another, and of living off barely a few hours of rest at each hotel was less than appealing to her. Added to that was the advent of spring, which was just around the corner. The days were already warming up, and life was returning to the farm. She wanted to share those moments with Isadora, to show her the first crocuses and let her watch the newborn kittens grow and play.
Clearly, her lack of response spoke volumes. Alejandro’s eyes never left her.
“I expect you to join me, Amanda.”
The fact that he had not called her Princesa was another hint of his displeasure. He normally only used her given name when discussing se
rious matters, especially when she accidentally did something wrong. But she simply couldn’t imagine why he spoke so firmly now. What had she done that could possibly have upset him? “I thought we agreed . . .”
His eyes narrowed, and the anger in his expression caused her to abandon her sentence.
“No, Amanda. We agreed not to be apart, no? We said ‘never again.’ Yet you are the one who unilaterally decided to leave Miami, to return to Lancaster. You are the one who wants to stay here rather than travel with me to Los Angeles.”
She gasped at the hard tone in his voice. “I didn’t . . .”
He held up his hand. “Stop, Amanda. Don’t say that you did not do these things, because you did.”
“That’s not fair!”
“No!” His voice boomed in the small house, and he took a step toward her. “What is not fair is this,” he said with more control in his voice. He gestured in the air, making a wide sweep of the room. She glanced in the direction he indicated and saw the wooden toys on the floor near the sofa as well as the pieces of a chunky puzzle that Isadora had not finished.
“She’s your daughter,” Amanda said, lifting her chin as she met his eyes. “And mine, too. You had me sign those papers, Alejandro. You asked me to become her mother.”
“Mother, sí! But not convert her to Amish!”
She gasped, her hand instinctively covering her chest as if suddenly wounded. “Alejandro!”
He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. Running his hands through his hair, he looked upward as if searching for something. “Amanda,” he finally said. “I need you.” She could see that he struggled to remain calm. “I need you with me. And you know that.”
“And I want to be with you.” She stepped forward and touched his arm. “You are all that I want, Alejandro. I love you so much that I have to remind myself that God must come first.” She tried to smile. “And God does not want our daughter to be abandoned while we traipse around the world. Nor does he want her growing up in the spotlight with late nights and sleeping on planes.” She paused. “She is just a child, and she needs stability.”
Pulling his arm free from Amanda’s touch, he glowered at her. “Stability?”
His reaction surprised her. “She lost her mother, Alejandro.”
“You are being condescending,” he retorted, the anger rising in his voice. “I know that she lost her mother, Amanda. I am not an ignorant pobrecito! But I did the right thing, and that shouldn’t mean that I must now lose my wife!”
“You’re not losing your wife!”
“If I leave here without you,” he said, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed tightly together, “what, exactly, do you think will happen between us?” His expression told her that she traveled down a road full of hazards. His next words told her that there would be no recovery if she took the wrong turn. “I can assure you, Princesa, there will be no happily ever after.”
The sarcastic tone in which he said her nickname did not go unnoticed, and without warning, tears began to well up in her eyes. The way that he looked at her, with such contempt and anger, frightened her. Why couldn’t he see that touring on the road was no place for a child? The situation was not ideal; she could admit that much. But this was not something that they had planned. All of their plans had changed overnight when Isadora entered their lives. But responsible parents put the needs of their children ahead of their own.
“Do not cry,” he warned and pointed a firm finger at her. “You are making this choice. You have no right to cry.”
As soon as he said those words, Amanda lifted her hands to her face and covered her eyes and cheeks. She turned her back to him and let the tears fall. Even if she were able to speak, she wouldn’t respond to his words, which were so cruel and out of character. This ugly side of Alejandro threw her off. How could this man who she loved so much speak to her in such a way?
She moved away from him and started to head toward the bedroom to collect herself and her thoughts. Words spoken in anger create wounds that cannot heal, she reminded herself. This was just one more of the wise adages she had been taught by her mother. The harshness with which Alejandro had spoken to her just now would take a long time to forget.
As she walked away from him, she suddenly felt Alejandro’s firm grip on her upper arm. In one fluid movement, he spun her around and pushed her backward so rapidly that she gasped in surprise. Her tears immediately stopped as he pinned her against the wall and, maintaining a firm grip on her wrist, held her arm so that she could not escape.
“Alejandro!”
She tried to push him away, pressing her free hand against his shoulder. He responded by tightening his hold on her other wrist. Her surprise turned to anger. She had caught glimpses of his temper before, but it had always been directed elsewhere. She had never thought that he would treat her in such a rough manner. In hindsight, she knew that the tension between them had been building, and that it had created a divide that neither one of them knew how to cross.
This, however, is not the way, she told herself.
“Don’t,” she snapped at him. She tried to free herself, but it did no good. When she realized that her determination was no match for his physical strength, she stopped fighting him. She looked up at him, ready to say something else when she saw that his blue eyes no longer held rage and fury. No, those emotions were gone and had been replaced by a new one: panic.
“Amanda,” he said. The softness in his voice contrasted with his sharp tone from moments before. “I cannot leave here without you.”
“Let me go. You are hurting my arm, Alejandro.”
Immediately, he loosened his hold on her, but kept her pinned against the wall. She didn’t like the feeling of being restrained but knew better than to fight him.
“You don’t know what it was like,” he whispered, lifting his hand so that he could wipe the remnants of tears from her cheeks. His fingers paused at her mouth, and then he brushed his thumb against her lower lip. “Knowing you were here. Knowing you didn’t need me.” He shut his eyes as if pained by the memory. “Maybe you don’t, Amanda, but I need you. Even if you are only back in the hotel, I need to know that you are there.”
The rapid shift in his tone, anger turned to anxiety, was almost as startling as the way he was restraining her against the wall.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“I am your husband,” he responded, his voice trembling just enough so that Amanda knew that he was holding back his emotions. “Bring Isadora, Amanda. Bring your family. Anything you want. I’ll provide for them all.” His thumb fell from her mouth, and he cupped her chin with his hand. “Just come with me,” he said, lowering his eyes and looking at her lips. “Be with me, not because you want to but because you need to.”
She shut her eyes and pictured the scantily clad dancers onstage with Viper, the screaming women in the audience, the workers swearing behind the scenes whenever things went wrong. She felt the weariness in her body caused by traveling from country to country and the weariness in her soul caused by the barrage of fans, paparazzi, and reporters. How could she do all that with Isadora? How could she help this child adjust if change was the only constant in her life? To uproot her from the farm, especially after the past few weeks, would be to shatter her trust in all people. Amanda knew that she couldn’t do that to Isadora.
Just as important, Amanda realized that she couldn’t do it to herself.
“I . . .” She opened her eyes but could not finish speaking. The words wouldn’t come, and she knew, as he surely must, what her answer would be. Neither of them wanted to hear her say it.
“Shh,” he whispered, pressing a finger against her lips. When he released her hand, slipping his own down her back and cupping her waist, she felt the warmth of his skin through the material of her shirt. Her body relaxed a bit as she leaned against him.
“Don’t say
anything, Amanda.” His eyes sought hers, but there were no answers there. The answers remained unspoken, and as if to ensure that it remained that way, he relaxed his hold on her and kissed her, gently at first but then more intensely, until she felt the full urgency of his driving need to possess her: mind, body, and soul.
She realized that his urge to possess her had always been there. While she often let him take control of situations and her, she hadn’t permitted him to change who she was as a person. And lately she had been standing up to him more frequently, especially now that she was responsible for Isadora. Amanda wondered if her increasing independence was the driving force behind him coveting both her attention and her affection: he couldn’t have one without the other. The only problem, she realized, was that neither could she. And, as of late, she wasn’t getting either.
In the early-morning hours of dawn, she felt Alejandro get out of bed. The mattress shifted under him, and she heard his bare feet on the floor. She rolled over, tucking the sheet under her chin. The sun wasn’t up, and she had no idea what time it was. Certainly long before he should have arisen.
“You are awake?” he whispered, his voice soft in the quiet of the room. She could see his silhouette in the darkness as he stood by the side of the bed, looking down at her in the gray-blue glow of morning. “Go back to sleep, Princesa.”
She stretched her hand toward him. “Come back to bed, Alejandro. It’s cold here without you.”
