by Sarah Price
“I’d like to think that he has everything under control,” she finally said.
“Hey,” he replied, dropping his voice so that it was low. He stood in front of her and reached out to take her chin in his hand, gently forcing her to look him in the eyes. “There are many religions in the world, sí? Maybe there is more than one way to worship God.”
“You aren’t supposed to worship anyone above God,” she said, meeting his gaze straight on.
He clasped her hand in his and smiled at her. “Not above God . . . I promise that to you.” He leaned down to kiss her fingers before, still holding her hand, he looked around at the fields with the sun setting behind the house. “How can you doubt the magnificence of God when you see such an amazing sight as that?” he asked, gesturing toward the sky. “How many colors do you see, Amanda?”
She was taken aback because he rarely used her name. Since the first time they had met, she had been Princesa. But she liked it when he did use her name. Especially now, for his voice was husky and thick. She liked the way it rolled off his tongue. His accent made it sound beautiful, and she repeated it in her mind as if to hear it again and again: Aman-tha.
He looked at her, wondering why she wasn’t answering. But she wasn’t staring at the sky. Instead, her eyes were on him. For a moment, he met her gaze, and there were no words to express the unspoken emotion shared between them. He was struck by the feeling that flooded through him and squeezed her hand gently. It didn’t surprise him that she squeezed his in return. But he turned his head back to stare at the sky. “I see every color in God’s brushstroke. Red, blue, purple,” he said.
“Yellow and orange,” she whispered.
“Ah, sí, yellow and orange.” He nodded. “Those colors are there, too.”
A silence fell between them. He was lost in the moment, trying to understand what he was feeling. There was a beauty at the Beiler farm that he had not seen for many years, not since his early childhood in Cuba. There was something magical about living off the land. It was pure and it was honest. And he missed it.
“Sing me a song.”
Her voice was so soft that he wasn’t certain he had heard her properly. “¿Qué?” he asked, asking her to repeat what she had said.
“I should like to hear a song from you,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze for fear he might laugh at her.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he began to sing in a low, soft, slow voice.
Arrorró, mi niña, arrorró, mi amor,
arrorró, pedazo de mi corazón.
Esta niña linda, que nació de día,
quiere que lo lleve a la dulcería.
Esta niña linda, que nació de noche,
quiere que lo lleve a pasear en coche.
Duérmete, mi niña, duérmete, mi amor,
duérmete, pedazo de mi corazón.
When he stopped singing, the last syllable seemed to float through the air, the melody lingering between them. He watched her as she stared at the sky. She hadn’t moved while he was singing, listening to the words while her eyes took in the different colors of the sunset. Yet now that the song was over, he could see that there were tears in her eyes.
“You cry?” he asked, leaning over once again. “Why the tears?”
“Your voice,” she said. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes large and full of emotion. “Oh, Alejandro, you sing like an angel!”
This time, it was Alejandro who felt the color rise to his cheeks. Over the years, he had heard many things about how he looked, how he danced, and especially about how he sang. But no one had ever been so moved by a song. And such a simple song, at that. “You humble me, Amanda.”
“Tell me about that song,” she whispered. “It sounds beautiful.”
“It is beautiful,” he said, reaching out to brush the tears from her face with his thumb. He couldn’t help but stare at her, moved by her emotions from his song. “Beautiful. Like you are . . . on the inside and out.”
She caught her breath. “Oh.” Beautiful, he had said. The word echoed in her head, and she flushed. Beautiful. It was a word she heard in reference to sunsets and growing crops, not people. Indeed, no one had ever told her that she was beautiful. She had never even considered such a possibility. Lowering her eyes, she felt her heart quicken and her blood race. He thinks I’m beautiful.
“It is a lullaby,” he said quickly, stopping her from protesting against his compliment and trying to shift the mood back to one of congeniality. He sensed that his compliment had thrown her off track, and immediately he regretted having said it. “My mother used to sing that to me when I was a child. She would tuck me in at night, and I would be upset about her leaving the room. It was just the two of us, sí? I didn’t like to be separated from her at night.” He paused. “I felt that I couldn’t protect her if I wasn’t with her. So she would sing me that song.”
“What does it mean?”
He took a deep breath. Turning his back to her, he stared across the fields. His mother, he thought. No, he hadn’t been able to protect her, not then. But at least now he was able to take care of her needs. He paid for everything: her apartment in Miami, her food, her clothing, her housekeeper. It was a man’s job to protect and provide for his family. That was how he had been raised. Yet, when was the last time he had seen her? He felt a tug at his heart. He could still hear her voice as she sang the song to him in Spanish. Now he quickly translated it and sang it again, only, this time, in English.
Hush, my child, hush, my love,
hush, piece of my heart.
This pretty child who was born at daytime
wants me to take her to the candy shop.
This pretty child who was born at night
wants me to take her out for a ride in a car.
Sleep, my child, sleep, my love,
sleep, piece of my heart.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was moved. He could tell that much simply by how she was looking at him. There was a distance between them, and briefly he contemplated taking the three steps to embrace her. But he knew from the look on her face that doing so would be a bad idea. He knew from the pounding inside his own chest that doing so would be disastrous.
So, instead, he cleared his throat. “I suppose we should start heading back.”
“Alejandro,” she said softly.
“¿Sí, Princesa?”
“Danke,” she responded.
“For?”
She looked at the sky. “For helping me see the sunset through new eyes.” When she turned back to meet his gaze, he was struck by the depth of emotion in her eyes. He felt something stir inside him, and he took a deep breath. When she smiled, he realized that she was glowing. Such beauty, he thought and took a step backward.
“Anything for you, Princesa,” he said and realized that he meant it. He took his place beside her as they walked back to the house, a comfortable silence falling between them.
Chapter Eleven
The temperature gauge outside the kitchen window was at nearly ninety degrees, and the humidity was thick. It had been a temperate summer so far, but the heat had rolled in overnight and everything felt thick and muggy.
“What do you think about making some ice cream later on this afternoon?” Lizzie offered as she started clearing the dinner dishes from the table. Instead of a large, hot meal, she had served cold cuts and applesauce, coleslaw and chowchow, anything that didn’t require cooking on such a hot day.
Amanda looked up from where she sat at the table, one hand pressed against her cheek. Despite the heat and the beads of sweat that dotted her forehead, she gave her mamm a big grin. “Oh ja! Wunderbar gut idea!”
Lizzie laughed. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that!”
Alejandro leaned against the open door, the breeze from outside cooling him. It was hot o
utside, but it was even hotter inside the house. Despite the fact that the windows were open, the room was stifling hot. The thought of ice cream sounded good to him, but he had never had it homemade. “How do you make ice cream?”
“Freeze a cow,” Elias said as he struggled to put his boots back on.
Amanda burst out laughing, and even Lizzie had to smile at the incredulous look on Alejandro’s face. “You’ll see,” Amanda said, trying to stop laughing.
Standing up, Elias grinned at Alejandro. “You Englische. So gullible.” He chuckled. Walking to the door, he placed his right hand on Alejandro’s shoulder. “I’m headed out to the field to check the fence line. You’re welcome to join me or hang with the womenfolk.”
“Fence it is,” Alejandro said, glancing over at Amanda and winking at her. “Had enough canning to last me a lifetime the other day. Easier to work outside in the fields.”
“Shh,” Elias said. “Don’t let them figure that one out or they’ll be out in the fields and we’ll be stuck in the kitchen.”
“Now, Elias!” Lizzie scolded. “You go on and check that fence, if you must. No need to tease so!”
Amanda stared at the door, long after the two men left. She wished that she could join them outside, but it would be too hard to walk the fields with her crutches. Yet she longed to be alone with Alejandro, even if only for a few minutes. Her heart felt heavy, and she sighed, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he left for good. He had his own world to return to, whereas she knew that she was already in hers.
“Don’t be getting too attached,” Lizzie said, breaking the silence.
Amanda looked up, surprised to find her mamm staring at her. “I don’t know what you mean,” Amanda replied, a little too quick in her response to sound truly unaware of her mamm’s meaning.
Wiping her hands on a towel, Lizzie moved over to the table. “I can see that look on your face, Amanda. Won’t do you no good to get fancy ideas,” she offered gently. “He won’t stay, and you can’t leave.”
Amanda grimaced at her mamm’s words. “You are imagining things, Mamm.”
“I am, ja?” She reached out and touched Amanda’s hand. “He’s an Englischer, Amanda. And from what I can see, a very different one at that. You, however, are Amish.”
“And from what I can see, very different at that,” Amanda added defiantly.
“Ja, different, but still Amish.” Her voice remained stern. “Your daed might be missing Aaron and seeing something in Alejandro that just ain’t there, too. I fear you both are in for some heartache.” She stood up. “Sooner he leaves, the better. Was a mistake having him stay here,” she added as she turned back to her work, the conversation clearly over.
It didn’t matter. Amanda had nothing to add. She knew her mamm was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. They had been so grateful for everything that he had done that no one thought of the impact Alejandro’s presence would have on the family. But the damage was done, and Amanda’s heart felt heavy.
It was three hours later when Elias and Alejandro returned from working in the field. They were laughing as they walked up the porch steps. Amanda had moved over to the sofa and looked up as she heard them approach. Despite it being midafternoon, it was still hot inside the house. She lifted her hand to her head, touching her hair to make certain it was still under her prayer kapp. Her mamm was at the stove, standing in front of a big silver pot and hadn’t noticed the subtle move.
“Looks like rain,” Elias said as he removed his hat and placed it on the peg on the entrance wall. “Will give us a break from the heat, that’s for sure and certain.”
Lizzie nodded but didn’t say anything. She was cutting curds to make cheese and needed to concentrate. “Rain is gut,” she finally said. Then, looking up, she addressed Elias as she motioned to the stove. “Need to pour that into the mold, Elias. Would you mind?”
But it was Alejandro who hurried to help her. “Let me,” he said. When he saw her hesitate, he smiled. “I would like to help,” he added. Amanda wondered if he sensed her mamm’s apprehension, the slight shift in her comfort level with his presence in their lives. If so, he was doing a good job of breaking through her guarded shield.
Elias sank down into the chair next to Amanda as Alejandro followed Lizzie into the canning room where she would pour the curd into the cheesecloth and put it into the cheese mold for pressing. Elias removed his boots and leaned back, shutting his eyes. For a moment, he stayed like that, relaxed and quiet.
“You want the Budget to read, Daed?” Amanda asked, leaning over to pick up the paper and hand it over to him.
“Nee,” he said, opening his eyes. “But danke.”
He glanced around the room. Through the windows he could see dark clouds rolling across the sky, blocking the sun, and the room had suddenly gotten darker. “Best be lighting the lanterns, ja?” He stood up and hurried over to the lantern over the kitchen table. On the wall by the refrigerator were a strike pad and a metal box. He reached inside for a match and struck it against the pad, using the flame to light the kerosene lantern. With a soft poof, followed by a gentle hiss, the room became suddenly awash in a bright glow.
Lizzie and Alejandro returned to the kitchen. She noticed the lantern was on and quickly turned to peer out of the window. “You’re right about that rain, Elias. Best be making that ice cream before it starts!”
She hurried to the counter where a large bowl with a custard mixture was cooling. She had started preparing it earlier, knowing that Amanda would want to show Alejandro how they turned it into ice cream. “Alejandro,” she said, “if you open the refrigerator door, I have a big plastic bag with ice all ready.”
He did as he was told while she poured salt into a measuring cup. “Now, pour this over the ice.”
“¿Sí?” he asked, taking the salt and opening the plastic bag. “Salt over ice?”
Lizzie didn’t respond, as she was focused on pouring the custard mixture into smaller Ziploc bags. Amanda watched from the sofa for a few moments before she swung the cast down and reached for her crutches. She was tired of feeling helpless, and the next part was always her favorite. Lizzie took the larger bag of salted ice from Alejandro and opened it in order to put the four smaller bags inside. Then she shut it and handed the bag to Alejandro.
“Shake,” she said.
“Shake?”
Amanda laughed at his expression. “Shake. You know how to do that, ja?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her sassiness and smirked. “I’ve been known to shake some in my day,” he quipped. “But only onstage.” He began to shake the bag from side to side, his eyes still holding her gaze. “Good?”
“Nee!” She leaned against the counter and reached out. “Let me show you how the Amish shake,” she teased back, ignoring the tense look on her mamm’s face. Instead, Amanda took the bag and began rolling it back and forth in her hands so that the custard moved consistently against the cold ice. “Like this.”
“Ay, mi madre,” he exclaimed, looking at both mother and daughter. “That’s not shaking! That’s rolling!”
Again, they laughed, and Lizzie took a deep breath. “Less chatter and more shaking, or rolling, or whatever you call it, if you want some cold ice cream after supper,” she replied, leveling her gaze at Amanda, an unspoken warning in her eyes.
Elias waved his hand as if dismissing Lizzie’s words. “It’s gut to hear laughter in the house, Lizzie. Been too long,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes as he rested his head against the back of the chair. “But a little less noise is just as gut, I reckon. Might take myself a nap before evening chores,” he added.
By the time the rain rolled in, the plastic bags of custard had turned into a soft batch of vanilla ice cream. A cool breeze blew into the kitchen from the windows, and then the sound of rain pelting against the house immediately created a peaceful change in the room. It was goin
g to be a lazy afternoon with little chance of going outside, Amanda realized.
Alejandro excused himself, explaining that he wanted to check some messages and send some e-mails before his cell phone ran out of battery. As he disappeared through the door that connected the two houses, Amanda found herself resenting her broken leg that made it so hard to move around and escape the ever-increasing watchful eye of her mamm.
An hour later, she found her chance. The rain had stopped, and Elias was still napping. Lizzie had looked out the window and sighed. “I hate to do it, but I need to run to market,” she said, lowering the plain white curtain back in place. She glanced over at Elias. “Hate to wake him; he’s been working so hard.”
“I’ll tell him if he wakes,” Amanda offered.
“Won’t be gone but for an hour . . . if that,” Lizzie said, scurrying to collect her purse and hurry out the door.
Amanda listened for the horse and buggy to rattle down the driveway toward the road before she reached for her crutches. Her daed was still snoring, and she knew that, should he wake up, he wouldn’t think twice about her not being there. Carefully, she walked toward the door that divided the two houses, and after a quick glance over her shoulder to make certain her daed was still sleeping, she quickly passed through and shut the door behind her.
There was a passage between the two houses, and she paused at the door, knocking once. Her heart raced inside her chest. She wasn’t certain what she was going to say when he opened the door. She was acting on an impulse. It was a new feeling for her, and she wasn’t sure about how to deal with it.
There was no answer.
She knocked again and reached for the doorknob. When he didn’t answer, she opened the door and peeked inside. It was dark, but she could still see since the sun was starting to peek through the storm clouds that had rolled in earlier. He was standing in the kitchen, his back to her, and dancing. She shuffled inside the door and shut it behind her, her eyes transfixed on Alejandro. He hadn’t responded to her knock at the door because he wore earbuds attached to his phone.
