by Price, Sarah
Isadora tugged at her hand, interrupting Amanda’s thoughts. She looked down at her daughter and tried to smile.
“Are you crying again, Mammi?”
Amanda knelt down and took Isadora into her arms. She breathed in the sweet scent of lavender from her freshly washed hair. “No, Izzie. You are here and that makes me feel ever so much better.”
“Is Papi coming to say good-bye to Dawdi?”
Amanda shook her head. “Nee, Izzie. He is working and very far away. I’m sure that he wants to be here.”
She didn’t know that to be true, however. She worried about him, wondering what had happened with the security guards and the fight with Enrique. More important, she worried about what he thought about her. Charlotte had arranged her departure, and before she knew it, she was leaving the hospital and on a flight to begin the long journey back to Pennsylvania.
Her phone had not rung once since she arrived: no phone calls, no text messages. After she arrived at the farm, she had checked it once and was surprised that no one had updated her about Alejandro. After that, she found herself caught up in the whirlwind of comforting her family, praying with the church leaders, and now talking with all of the visitors. This wasn’t the time or place to be checking her cell phone.
Amanda knew that it would be a busy twenty-four hours. In the morning, there would be a two-hour service in the very room where Elias’s coffin rested. Afterward, the horses and buggies would follow the wagon carrying the coffin to the graveyard. Each buggy, marked in chalk with a number, would follow in a prearranged order; Lizzie, Anna, Isadora, and Amanda would be carried in the buggies with the numbers one and two marked on the back.
After one last private viewing of Elias, the family would say good-bye and the men would carry the coffin to the grave, gently lowering it into the ground before taking turns covering it with dirt while the family watched. The family would remain stoic, trying hard not to cry. Elias might have left them, but surely he now walked with God.
Isadora leaned into Amanda’s arms, holding her even tighter. “It’s all right, Mammi,” the little girl said. “I’m here for you.”
Amanda shut her eyes, taking the moment to just feel her daughter’s embrace. She could hear the people murmuring in the room, speaking softly to each other. She knew that it would be a long two days, but she also knew that she would get through it with the love of her family, the support of the community, and the gift that God had given her in the small child who held on to her neck, trying to return the very comfort that Amanda had given to her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
She stood at the grave site, staring at the dirt that was piled atop her father’s coffin. Despite knowing what the day would bring, no amount of preparation could have prepared her for this moment. Her father was gone. How had this happened? she wondered. How could Daed have been so vibrant and alive just twelve months ago and now he was no more?
She wore her black dress, the only black one she had that wasn’t Amish. It fell to her knees instead of her ankles, something that she felt certain others had noticed and probably whispered about on their buggy ride back to the farmhouse for the noon meal.
Amanda hadn’t joined them. She wanted to stay for a while with her father so that he did not fear being interred in the ground. Fortunately, Anna had taken Isadora with her and Jonas so that Amanda could have this time alone with her father.
She wished she could have talked to him, to tell him how everything was such a mess in her life: her marriage to Alejandro, her future within the community, even her relationship with Isadora. Everything was in jeopardy, and all because of one mistake. She never should have struck Enrique. That one act, an act committed in anger, had caused problems for Alejandro, both legal and professional. Surely he would be angry with her for creating just one more in a long line of issues, not to mention that she had left so unexpectedly. Hadn’t she promised him she would never do that again?
“Oh, Daed,” she whispered. “When did this all get to be so hard?”
In many ways, she often wondered what would have happened if she had not gone to Ohio or had not crossed the streets of New York City on that day last summer. She would not have been struck by the car, and she would not have met Alejandro. Instead, she would have returned to Lancaster and continued with her life as an Amish woman. In all likelihood, she would have been courted by a young man and married last autumn with a boppli on the way.
She rested her hand on her stomach and sighed.
In the distance, she heard the sound of a car door shutting. At first, she didn’t look up. The undertaker was certainly returning to the cemetery to remove the few items that remained, such as the boards that surrounded the grave and the chair he had placed there for one of the older women of the g’may.
When the undertaker did not appear, she looked up to see who had arrived. To her surprise, she saw a figure of a man standing against the front gate of the cemetery. He wore a white suit with a black shirt. From the way that he stood there, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched her from behind dark sunglasses, she knew right away who it was.
He had come.
A sob escaped from her throat as she covered her mouth with her hand. Without a moment’s pause, she ran toward him, tears streaming down her face.
He didn’t move as she approached him, but she didn’t care. She threw her arms around his neck and wept into his shoulder. She felt the stiffness in his shoulders and the hesitation in his response. As she continued to cry, her hands clinging to the back of his jacket, he finally began to soften and reached one arm around to hold her. When he did, she clung to him even more.
“Shh, Princesa,” he said at last.
“I . . . I didn’t . . .” She couldn’t speak, for the emotion that welled up in her throat robbed her of the ability to talk. What she wanted to say to him, that nothing had happened with Enrique and that she meant everything she had said to him about giving up her past just to be with him, seemed stuck inside of her.
He exhaled and let his other arm relax enough to console her. “You must calm down,” he whispered. “You’ve been through too much.”
“Oh, Alejandro,” she cried. “I just love you so much. I want you and only you. Don’t you know that?”
With a firm hold on her shoulders, he pulled away and bent down enough so that he could stare into her eyes. She couldn’t see his eyes for they were behind his sunglasses. Hesitantly, she reached up and steadied her trembling hand before she gently removed them. His blue eyes met hers.
“Sí, Princesa,” he said. “I know that.” He wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “That is why I am here.”
Another wave of tears and sobs racked her shoulders. She fell against him, holding on to his sunglasses in one hand and his shirt in the other. She didn’t want to let him go, refusing to release her hold upon him. Instead, she clung to him as if her life depended on it.
“Amanda,” he said after giving her a few moments to calm down. “I am sorry about your father.”
She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. When he offered her a handkerchief, she accepted it and dabbed at the tears on her face. “He did not suffer long. For that, we are all thankful.”
“Your family? They are strong, yes?”
She nodded her head. “Mamm is holding everything together, much better than I would have expected.”
“And you?”
She glanced at him, those blue eyes studying her face. “I . . . I miss him. But he hasn’t been himself for a while. Since the stroke.” She managed to sigh. “He’s with God, so it would be selfish to wish he were still with us, I reckon.”
Alejandro nodded his head. “That’s a good way to think about it, Amanda.”
“How did you hear?”
He lifted an eyebrow as if questioning her inquiry.
“Oh, Dali,” Amanda said, answering her own question.
“Sí, Dali. And my mother.” He paused before he added, “And the media. Ev
eryone knows, Amanda.” He spoke slowly, her name rolling off his tongue in that special way: Aman-tha.
Amanda was surprised to hear that even the media knew. “How . . . ?”
“You know enough about the media to know that they make it their business, Amanda, to follow everything that affects you.”
“And you spoke to your mother?”
He nodded. “Sí, Amanda. I saw her. She came to the condo in Miami and told me to come to you.”
Something dropped inside her chest. She had thought he had come on his own accord, wanting to comfort her in a time of need as well as to end the stalemate that had become central to their relationship. To think that he had come strictly because his mother told him to do so was a disappointment to Amanda.
“I see,” she finally said.
He reached down and put his finger under her chin so that he could tilt her face upward. Peering into her face, his eyes flickered back and forth for just a few seconds. “My bags were already packed when she arrived,” he said. “I was already planning to come for you.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
“And for Isadora,” he added in a soft voice. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers, a kiss so tender that she thought she might cry again.
When he pulled back, one arm still encircling her waist, he held her tight against his body. “She is my daughter,” he said. “I want to be a part of her life, Amanda. I understand that we are a family now, sí? Things must change.” He paused. “I am willing to change.”
“I don’t want you to change,” she said, her voice soft and beginning to fill with emotion.
He pressed a finger against her lips to silence her. “It has been one year, Amanda. Over one year that we have been together. Do you not think that both of us have changed during that time? Remember where we were and how far we have come. You talk about not being selfish since your father is with God. That is God’s plan, the plan that you always talk about. Would it not be selfish to wish ourselves where we were twelve months ago? Clearly, that is not God’s plan.”
She shut her eyes, letting his words sink in. He spoke wisely and she appreciated his candor. In the past twelve months, she had lived a lifetime of change, some of it good and some of it not so good. But the one thing she realized was that, through it all, she had lived and she had loved. Alejandro had taught her how to do both.
“And there is something else that was not in God’s plan,” Alejandro said, bending down once again so that he was at her eye level. “This.”
He placed his hand on her small protruding belly and gently rubbed.
She caught her breath and placed her hand atop his. “What do you mean?”
“God did not plan for you to hide this from me,” he said in a tender voice. “When, Amanda, were you going to let me know that you are carrying my baby?”
She stumbled over her words. “I’m sorry, Alejandro,” she finally said. “I . . . I didn’t know.”
The look on his face showed his surprise. After all of her concern over getting pregnant, the numerous tests that she had taken, and her recent tears over possibly being infertile, he found her admission as incredulous as she found her pregnancy. “You did not know?”
She shook her head. “I would have told you, Alejandro. I’d never keep that from you.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. “Ay, Princesa,” he breathed into her hair. “I cannot believe that we are going to be parents! That I find out from Geoffrey and not you!” He gave a soft laugh and kissed the top of her head.
“You are happy?”
This time, he pulled away from her and frowned. “You ask if I am happy? ¡Claro, mi amor! This is our baby. Ours.”
“But . . .”
He shook his head. “There is no ‘but,’ Amanda. I told you that things must change. We can spend more time here on the farm. I will slow down with the music, Amanda. I cannot give up everything, but I will not give you up.” He paused and took a moment to smile at her. “Or our children. Both of them.”
For a long moment, he looked around, his eyes traveling across the landscape until he saw the fresh dirt of the grave that belonged to her father. He took a deep breath and nodded with his head toward that direction. “But we can discuss that more later, Amanda,” he said in a solemn voice. “We have much to catch up on. For now, I should pay my respects to your father and then return you to the house, no? People will be wondering where you are.”
Parting from her side, he walked to the grave and stood there, his hands clasped before him. For a long while, he was quiet, his head bowed and his eyes closed. When she saw his lips moving, she realized that he was praying, something she had never before witnessed.
“Life is so short,” he said when he finally opened his eyes, staring once again at the grave. “What Elias would have given to see his grandchildren born, to watch them grow and to love them.”
She felt emotion well in her throat and pressed her lips together, willing herself to not cry.
Alejandro lifted his head and looked into the distance at the surrounding fields that encircled the graveyard. His pensive nature surprised her and she remained silent, waiting for him to collect his thoughts.
At last, he turned to her, his dark hair casting a shadow over his face. But his blue eyes met hers as he said, “I will not miss such things, Amanda. There is much more to life than music and money.”
She caught her breath, anticipating what he was thinking.
He took two steps and stood before her. “We will get through this, Amanda. Together. We will get your family situated, even if I have to stay here to help.”
“But your concerts . . . ?”
He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “Canceled. All of them until we sort this out. My place, Amanda, is by your side. Just as you said you would never leave me again, I make you this vow that I, too, will be with you through all of this. You are my wife, and you take precedence over everything else.” He paused before he added, “You and our children. God did not intend for us to move through life alone. I see that now, although I already knew it . . . deep down, anyway. That is why he sent you to me. He intended you to show me what is important in life: faith, family, love.”
Amanda had not thought about this possibility. She always knew that God had led her to Alejandro, but she always thought it was for them to find each other. She had never considered that all of the hardships during the past year—the accident, the paparazzi, the scandals and speculation, even the fight between Alejandro and Enrique—had been part of God’s greater plan to bring Alejandro closer to him.
When Alejandro reached for her, gently pulling her into his arms, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder and shut her eyes. They stood like that, Alejandro’s chin resting atop her head and Amanda in his embrace, for several minutes. In the distance, they could hear an approaching horse and buggy, the gentle noise of the rattling buggy wheels and the horse’s hooves on the road increasing as it neared the graveyard. Neither one of them moved as they listened to the rhythmic sound that sang a song of peace and tranquility that was so much a part of the Amish life.
For the first time, Amanda knew where she belonged. She would no longer straddle a fence between her upbringing among the Amish and the surreal world of fame. She knew that she and Alejandro had come to the same conclusion: the contrasting lifestyles could not coexist. Yet, together, they would create their own world that combined the best of their lives. Everything would be fine.
They had made the choice to be together, to find a way to make it work. It was a choice that would ensure that God’s plan was finally fulfilled.
Epilogue
When the hospital door opened and Alejandro entered the room, Amanda caught her breath at the large bouquet of roses that he carried. Pink. Three dozen pink roses in a large vase with a white bow around it.
“How are you doing?” he asked as he apprehensively approached the bed. “You are feeling bett
er?”
She bit her lip and nodded her head.
For a moment he seemed to consider where to set the roses. The confused expression on his face almost made her smile. She finally pointed to the wide windowsill. After setting them down, he stood for a moment as if uncertain what to say or do.
“I’m so sorry, Princesa,” he finally said.
“It’s all right,” she said, reaching out her hand for him to take. “I understand, Alejandro.”
“I should have been here.”
At her insistence, he finally approached the bed and took her hand. She moved over, making room for him to sit beside her on the bed. His hand felt warm and clammy, and she realized that he was nervous. She smiled at last, ignoring any pain that she felt. “Did you see her?”
He looked horrified at her question. “¡Ay, Amanda, claro no!”
She gave a soft laugh at his reaction. “Why ever not? She’s your daughter, too!”
“I would never meet her without you!” He rubbed at the back of his neck and glanced around the room. “She is not here?”
Amanda watched him, astonished at how edgy and tense he was. He had only been gone to New York for one night, but the labor pains came too fast for Amanda to deny the inevitable truth that she was having the baby without Alejandro. Señora Perez had hardly been able to contain herself when Amanda came into the kitchen. Isadora had been sitting at the kitchen table, coloring a picture of a farm while the orange cat lounged in a sunbeam on the floor beside her.
“The baby is coming,” Amanda had said.
“My sister?” Isadora dropped her crayons and jumped to her feet, the sudden movement scaring the cat into the other room.
Señora Perez, however, began talking rapidly in Spanish and hurrying for the phone. Amanda tried to sit down at the table, but the tightening of her abdomen forced her to stand up until it passed.
“When do I meet my sister?” Isadora asked as she leaned against the table.
“It could be a brother,” Amanda pointed out, to which Isadora made a face.
