by Sarah Price
“What are you thinking?” she asked, still gazing at his reflection.
His eyes stared back at her with such intensity that it made her blush. “I was thinking how you haven’t changed at all. Still so very beautiful.”
“Of course I’ve changed. I’ve gotten older.”
He shook his head in denial. “That’s not possible. You are still the young girl I fell in love with.”
He took a step toward her and stood behind her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. He raised his hand and ran his finger down the back of her neck. Shivers ran up her spine, and she caught her breath. How was it possible that, after all these years, he could still have such an impact on her?
“I think we’ve both changed.” She reached up and covered his hand with hers.
“Oh? How so?” he asked with interest.
“You have calmed down a bit, don’t you think?”
He laughed at her question. “Just a minute ago, I was a hurricane of energy. Now I’ve calmed down.”
She smiled at him. “You know what I mean.”
“Sí, sí, I know what you mean, and you are right, I have calmed down . . . maybe a little. And you? How have you changed?”
Amanda thought carefully about the question before answering. “Well, I’ve adapted to being more worldly, I reckon.”
He laughed again, raising an eyebrow as he repeated her words. “You reckon? I haven’t heard you say that word in years!”
“Mayhaps I haven’t become so worldly after all,” she said, teasing him by deliberately responding with another word from her past.
But she wasn’t certain if that was true. She was just as surprised as Alejandro that she had used that phrase, so reminiscent of the simple vocabulary from her upbringing on an Amish farm. Had she said it subconsciously because of her mother’s letter? This might have been a reasonable segue into mentioning the correspondence, but she didn’t want to have this conversation with him. Not now, anyway. So she merely smiled and turned around so that she could kiss him on his lips.
“Mayhaps you need to give me another kiss like that,” he requested with mischief in his voice. “Gracias a Dios! Your lips haven’t changed at all.”
“Alejandro!” But she smiled at his playfulness. It felt good to have him home. “Let’s get some coffee and plan the day before the children are finished getting ready. I have the feeling that once they get hold of you, I won’t see you again until tonight.”
“Umm,” he sighed, his voice deep and husky. “Until tonight then, Princesa.” Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on her neck, his one hand dropping from her shoulder to her slender waist. The heat from his embrace and the passion of his kiss caused her to flush and look away from the mirror. He could still make her feel as if each kiss was the first one, and she found herself vividly reliving the memory of that long-ago day.
When he separated from her, his hand lingered for just a moment on her hip, the corner of his lips lifting in an all-too-familiar way, when the color flooded to her cheeks.
The rest of the day was spent preparing for the holiday. There were so many things still left to do and so very little time.
“After breakfast, I want you and Nicolas to help me wrap some gifts,” Amanda told Sofia as she sipped her coffee and made a long mental list of the tasks that needed to be done.
“Can I wrap Papi’s gift?” Nicolas begged. “Pretty please!” he added, his big blue eyes open wide.
“Of course you can!” Amanda replied at once, enjoying Nicolas’s excitement at the prospect of wrapping his father’s gift. But no sooner had she uttered the words than she found herself wondering about the special meaning this simple deed represented for her son.
Despite all these years spent with Alejandro and their family, she still had a difficult time comprehending why people would shower each other with so many often useless and extravagant gifts around Christmastime. Back home in Lancaster County, Christmas among the Amish was not about giving gifts. It was about celebrating the birth of the Savior. About spending time with one’s extended family and rejoicing for the bounty of God’s gifts to his children. For humbly thanking him for the abundance of blessings bestowed upon their community. For the more conservative members of the g’may, it was also a time of peaceful reflection and atonement. It was not about sharing material gifts with one another.
Sure, some Amish people, perhaps influenced by the Englische tradition, had started to give their children little gifts around that time of the year—a sewn handkerchief, a new pair of shoes, a new Sunday shirt—but these were always practical items and certainly did not come with all of the commercialism and fanfare associated with the Englische Christmas.
While the glimmer in Nicolas’s eyes made her happy, she felt a certain anguish building up in her heart. Indeed, it was nice to see the love and adoration for his father that was brought about by the simple act of wrapping a present. But at the same time, it made Amanda ponder the gifts that Alejandro was planning to give his friends and family—especially his mother.
After all, this gathering of family and friends had become a strong tradition with her husband and his entourage. He loved to shower them all with presents and throw a lavish party with exquisite food, fancy wines and liquors, a band, and gifts for everyone—gifts that often included fancy cars and expensive jewelry. He loved to have his mother cook the special Christmas dishes for him, and he loved making her feel special. Alejandro was generous to a fault, and that generosity also gave him great pleasure. Could she possibly ask him to give that up in order to spend their Christmas with her own family in Lancaster County?
Yes, she thought. By asking him to celebrate with her own family, she would be denying him the one gift he enjoyed above all others: celebrating with his friends and family.
And while that thought left her sad, she knew that she had no choice but to try to give her mother the only gift she had ever asked for.
Chapter Three
“The holidays are coming soon,” Amanda said as she stood at the granite counter and rearranged some freshly cut flowers in a Lalique crystal vase.
It was her morning ritual: waking before everyone else so that she could enjoy a few quiet moments by herself. Some days, as the sun barely crested the horizon, she would escape to the gardens and weed, plucking the uninvited growths and then cutting some fresh flowers for the staff to put out in various areas of the house: the entrance room, the family’s kitchen table, the different hallways, and, of course, their master bedroom. It was one of her favorite things about living in Florida: everyday access to fresh flowers.
When Alejandro was traveling, early mornings were Amanda’s favorite time of the day. She could ease into her schedule without too many interruptions from the children and staff. For once, her cell phone remained silent and she could simply . . . be. It reminded her so much of her life before Alejandro.
Today, however, Alejandro had been home from his tour for several days and was back to his own early-morning routine. He joined her in the quiet of the kitchen.
Despite having been away for so long, he was already leaving again the following afternoon, right after the photographers were finished with the family photo shoot. It was for the cover of a magazine to be published in June, the main reason why the company wanted to conduct the shoot under the sunny Florida sky, right in their own backyard.
Alejandro’s day was full of meetings with different people: his manager, his promotions team, other artists, and even several business professionals who wanted Viper’s endorsement on their products. Amanda knew the only time she would be able to speak to him about her mother’s letter was now, before the daylong interruptions began.
“The holidays? Sí, Princesa, I am well aware. In fact, my mother is already busy planning—or so she reminds me whenever she can.” He gave her a wink as he leaned against the counter, dressed simply in pressed black dungarees and a light-cream polo shirt. There was a steaming mug of coffee by his side, and he leafed throu
gh several newspapers and weekly tabloids, which a staff member set out for him each morning. He looked relaxed, but Amanda wasn’t certain that he was paying attention to her. He glanced at his watch distractedly. “I need to leave in an hour. Meeting with Geoffrey and Rudy before having lunch with that new recording artist I told you about last week.”
Her concentration broke. “You haven’t even had breakfast yet!” It was an ongoing battle between the two of them. She always complained about his horrible tendency to skip meals, especially when he was bouncing between a tour schedule and being at home. He would merely laugh while flexing his muscles, telling her that he was just fine and in top shape.
“I have a little time, Amanda,” he said. “But I’d be happy to take it with me if it’s not ready.” It was his way of compromising with her.
Señora Perez was already at the stove, cooking the breakfast. From the familiar smell, Amanda could tell that she was cooking Alejandro’s favorite: tostada, eggs, and sausage, with freshly sliced papaya on the side. And, of course, fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice, which he insisted on having each morning.
Amanda poked her head around the corner and caught Señora Perez’s eyes. “When Alejandro’s breakfast is ready . . .”
She didn’t have to finish her sentence. After so many years working in the family, Señora Perez was very familiar with Alejandro’s routine, which was unpredictable, at best. “Sí, Amanda. I’ll pack it for him to take.”
Amanda smiled her appreciation and, before returning to the counter where Alejandro stood, picked up the coffeepot to refill her husband’s cup.
“We should discuss our plans before you leave,” Amanda said casually as she set the piping-hot mug before him.
“Ah sí,” he replied while he flipped the page of the newspaper, his eyes scanning the headlines. “I’ll be back on Sunday morning, but don’t forget that next week we are traveling to Michigan before the New York and Miami concerts.”
She sighed. That wasn’t what she meant. Her mind had been so preoccupied by the letter from her mother that she had almost forgotten about their travel plans for the following week. It had completely slipped her mind. There was so much to remember, dates were a blur to her.
“What’s in Michigan, again?” she asked. It wasn’t a state that they often visited.
“The children’s book,” he said. “The one to raise money for your cancer center.”
“Oh help! I had forgotten about that!”
He glanced up from the paper and gave her a mischievous smile. “Well, you will be thirty next year, no? They say that the memory is the first to go,” he teased, while tapping the side of his head with his index finger.
Playfully, she tossed a hand towel at him as he laughed.
How could she have forgotten about the book recording to benefit the Princesa Cancer Center? After all, it had been her idea to raise money for the children’s center she had set up to help families.
When her assistant, Charley, had mentioned that a publishing company had contacted him, asking if she would be willing to provide audio recording for a children’s book, Amanda had immediately said yes, provided that all the proceeds from the sale of the books were donated to the children’s cancer center that bore her name in Miami. It had been a cause she’d supported since Alejandro had introduced her to a little boy with cancer in a Chicago hospital. When Alejandro had volunteered, too, Brilliance Audio had excitedly given the project a go-ahead. Making a difference in people’s lives was one of the things she felt the most proud of. If her status as the wife of a megastar gave her the ability to help those in need, maybe it was worth the traveling and endless events.
The reading had fit in their schedule, too. They would fly out of Miami at six o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, and the following day, they would travel to New York City. She knew that Thursday was fully booked with Alejandro’s scheduled performance on The Today Show and a meeting with several aspiring artists in the early afternoon. All of this before the Jingle Ball concert at Madison Square Garden, Amanda thought wearily. It would surely be well past midnight before they boarded the private jet that would fly them home to Miami in time for the Friday night concert at the American Airlines Arena.
“Alejandro, I was thinking . . . ,” Amanda said in a long-drawn-out manner before she paused, giving him time to realize that she wanted to discuss something of importance with him and sought his undivided attention.
He tilted his head as he watched her, his mouth pursing just a little. “¿Sí?”
“I’m sure it’s not possible . . .” Again, another pause. She picked up a crystal vase and walked around the counter to place it in the center of the large family dining table.
“¿Qué, mi amor? Ask and I will make it happen,” he answered earnestly.
She took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t say that, Alejandro. You have no idea what I am about to say.”
For a long moment, he studied her, and she could see that he was thinking. She rarely asked him for anything, mostly because she didn’t want for anything. Whenever she did, it was always a reasonable request and always within his schedule. Even though they hadn’t dated for a lengthy amount of time, just a few months really, she had married him knowing that his profession called for unusually high demands on his time. But she had never made a request like this. And while the last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilty, she also knew that her mother had never requested anything. In the days since receiving the letter, Amanda had concluded that it was important to her that sharing the holiday become part of the family tradition.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Let me rephrase that. I will certainly try to accommodate you.”
“I received a letter from my mother yesterday,” she hesitantly said.
“She is well?” he asked, his forehead creasing with concern.
Amanda wavered before answering. Her mother hadn’t actually mentioned anything about her health or well-being. “I believe so,” Amanda answered. “She didn’t necessarily say. But back home, people rarely say much about themselves.”
Alejandro stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly curious now. “So what was the real purpose of the letter, Amanda?”
She swallowed before she spoke, preparing herself for his reaction. “She asked if we could come to Pennsylvania for Christmas.” Her tone had a tinge of guilt in it for asking but also held a tremor of longing for him to acquiesce. It was important to her. With her mother getting older and Alejandro’s schedule, Amanda wondered if this might be one of the last opportunities she would have to enjoy the holidays with her entire family in Lititz. A bucket-list wish of sorts from her mother. Would Alejandro understand this? Would he sense the anguish that was building up in her chest? She knew he was quite adept at reading people’s emotions and inner thoughts—that was what had attracted him to her in the first place—but when she was a young girl, she had learned that the Amish community frowned upon displays of emotion and internal turmoil.
He groaned, his shoulders slumping forward as he rubbed his temples with one hand. “Ay Dios, Amanda! You know we can’t do that! Everything’s been settled, and to change it now, well, so many people would have to change their plans as well.”
His schedule was busy, that was for sure and certain. But Amanda had looked at it the previous day, and she wasn’t so convinced that he couldn’t make this happen. She knew better than to say that to him, though. Besides, it was more than just his schedule. There was also his mother to consider. She would never let them break tradition without an earth-shattering fight. While Amanda had always gotten along with her mother-in-law, the relationship between Alecia and Alejandro was like a rubber band. If one pulled away, the other one did the same, creating tension between the two that often caused one of them to snap.
“She’s never asked before,” she replied, trying to hold back her emotions.
He looked miserable, standing there before her, still rubbing at his head.
“A
nd the children don’t even know their cousins,” she added, feeling a tightness in her throat.
“Amanda,” he said gently. “I would do anything for you, but I cannot make this one thing happen.”
Slowly, she nodded her head. “I know, Alejandro. I just thought I would ask.” She forced a faint smile and averted her eyes, knowing full well that she, not he, was in control of this. “It is, after all, such short notice.”
“Sí, too short notice. If only your mother had asked a few months ago. Things might have been different. My mother has already started the preparations, and my cousins are expecting us to host everyone.”
Amanda picked up a vase and started to walk out of the room toward the hallway, where she planned to put the flowers near the front entrance. “She just doesn’t understand that your schedule is booked so far in advance,” she added.
“¡Exactamente!”
As Amanda began to leave the room, she paused at the door, as if thinking of something important. Slowly, she pursed her lips and she said in a drawn-out way, “However, I don’t think we’ve ever celebrated Christmas with my family, at least not since the children were born.”
She didn’t have to turn around to know that he had slapped his hand against his thigh. “That’s not right, Amanda! It’s not as if I don’t want you to go.”
As she continued walking, she knew that he was following her. She walked through the family entertainment room and paused in the hallway that led to the glass atrium. Setting the vase onto an otherwise empty reception table, she rearranged and fluffed the flowers as she listened to Alejandro pacing back and forth behind her.
“It’s just not possible, mi amor,” he said, trying to sound convincing. “I know it doesn’t sound fair . . .”
Amanda stopped fussing over the flowers and turned around to face him. She gave him another smile. “You don’t have to explain anything,” she said as she took a step forward, leaning up toward his face to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “As long as we are together with our family, everything is fine. My mother will have to understand.”