Plain Christmas (Plain Fame Book 6)

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Plain Christmas (Plain Fame Book 6) Page 11

by Sarah Price


  Over the years, while their love remained strong, things had changed. Amanda no longer accompanied her husband on tours, preferring to stay home to raise their young children. Alejandro was now a seasoned veteran in the music industry and, as such, was treated accordingly. It seemed that the bigger the star, the bigger the fanfare, and while Viper didn’t need to tour as much anymore, he still spent almost half of the year traveling. Whenever he returned to Miami, he always made time for his family—spending days on the yacht or taking them to the beach. But the old Alejandro, the one who doted so lavishly on his Princesa, seemed far too distracted with the complexities of adult life and the serious responsibilities that came with managing a music empire worthy of the Viper brand.

  Seeing him now, in that momentary flash of the past, stirred something long forgotten in Amanda, something she had buried deep inside of her. Amanda realized how much she missed the simple things in life. She missed so many aspects of her former life and desperately wished that she could introduce her children to them. Weeding the garden, milking the cows, even hanging the laundry outside on the white rope clothesline.

  Her children lived a life that during Amanda’s youth she had never dreamed existed. And while most kids their age would envy Isadora, Sofia, and Nicolas, Amanda knew that the fame and fortune that came with being Viper’s children robbed them of much of the innocence and freedom they would have experienced if they’d been raised among the Amish.

  “¿Qué, mi amor?” Alejandro’s words jarred her back to the present.

  The way the word amor rolled off his tongue brought a smile to her face. He had noticed her watching him and, like always, could tell that she was deep in thought. There was a connection between the two of them that time only strengthened. Even when he traveled, he seemed to know when she needed to hear his voice, and the phone would ring. And if Alejandro was upset, Amanda always knew the exact moment to text him.

  But she didn’t want to trouble him with her concerns about the children. Not here and certainly not now. She knew better than to divert his attention from his upcoming performance. It was a short set for him, only two songs, so she would have plenty of time with him later.

  Instead of confiding in him, she lowered her eyes and merely said, “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?” He gave her a look, one that told her how little he believed her.

  “Nothing other than thinking how handsome my husband looks tonight,” she replied with sincerity. It was true. There was no other man who could take her breath away like he did.

  “It’s you, Princesa, who outshines every other woman.”

  And he was the only man who could make her feel as if she was the most desired woman in the world.

  Alejandro then turned his attention to his oldest daughter, who was clearly embarrassed by her parents’ overt display of affection. “Isadora, you should come out. That singer from the Banff band was asking for you.”

  Isadora flushed, and Amanda couldn’t help but teasingly say in an overdramatic way, “Dear husband, Banff was so six months ago.”

  “Mami!” With a roll of her eyes, Isadora spun around to face her with a look of mortification.

  Alejandro raised an eyebrow and glanced at Amanda, who merely shrugged innocently.

  “I’ll have security take you over to them.” He glanced over his shoulder at one of his assistants, who had overheard the conversation and, without being asked, quickly escorted Isadora outside to find a security guard.

  “And keep an eye on her, sí?” Alejandro called out before the door shut. “What’s that about?” he asked Amanda after Isadora was gone.

  “A little secret between mother and daughter.” She chuckled, still recalling the look on her poor daughter’s face.

  He shook his head, dismissing her cryptic comment. He glanced back at the door Izzie had walked through. He looked pensive as he muttered, “She looks so grown up.”

  “Yes, she does,” Amanda answered matter-of-factly. Isadora was as beautiful as her father was handsome.

  “Too grown up,” he grumbled in protest. “She’s only fourteen!”

  Amanda laughed as she stood up and crossed the room toward him. “A teenager, isn’t that what you said last week?”

  He grunted in response as she patted him gently on the shoulder.

  She knew how he felt about Isadora’s new popularity with the young men who circulated in their social settings. As a father, he worried. But Amanda knew that Isadora wasn’t like typical teenage girls, overly seeking the attention of the young men who performed onstage. Of course, having access to the heartthrobs of America certainly didn’t make her unpopular with the few friends that Amanda and Alejandro allowed into her inner circle.

  Amanda leaned forward and kissed him. “I better go keep an eye on Izzie, ja?” She could already see her daughter, standing with those young men and taking photos. Selfies. Usually, Isadora only posted them to her private social media sites, but someone constantly monitored even those accounts to make certain nothing less than acceptable was posted.

  “Security will,” Alejandro said.

  But Amanda knew better. Isadora still needed a parent to chaperone her, and that responsibility usually fell onto Amanda’s shoulders. She didn’t mind. After all, she knew far too well from her own experiences how easily security could be distracted or even tricked. Her friend Celinda had taught her that almost nine years ago in Paris, when the two young women had played a lighthearted prank that led to an uncontrollable mob scene.

  “There’s nothing better than a mother’s watchful eye,” Amanda said over her shoulder as she opened the dressing room door. “Besides, I’m sure you’d like a few minutes alone before your set.”

  Amanda made her way through the dark hallway toward the gathering area, one of several greenrooms where the entertainers and staff could grab a water or something to eat. She passed a few people who smiled at her, obviously recognizing the wife of Viper, a celebrity in her own right. No matter how much Amanda tried to avoid calling attention to herself, the paparazzi and the public still considered her akin to royalty. Over the years, she had traveled to big cities for interviews, sometimes without Alejandro and on a few occasions without the children. Being away from them made life in the spotlight even more distasteful. But she always remembered that she had a choice. Choosing Alejandro meant choosing Viper, and with Viper came fame.

  Despite her feeling about her celebrity status, she would never have changed her decision, for Alejandro completed her.

  Standing in the doorway, she recognized several people. Her eyes drifted through the gathered group until she saw Isadora standing in front of the lead singer of Banff, the current boy band phenomenon. At fourteen, Isadora was petite, but she was beautiful enough to attract attention. Amanda knew that much of the attention was because of her parents. Her sweet disposition and youthful shyness was no match for most of the people in the industry, so Amanda kept her well within her sight at all times. But she also knew that many of the singers and band members respected Viper enough that Isadora would be safe. The Banff band fell into that category.

  It was harmless enough, Amanda thought, as Isadora took some selfies with the band, and the smile broadened on her daughter’s face when the band members kept talking with her, not just because she was Viper’s daughter but because they genuinely enjoyed her company. Long ago, Amanda learned to watch the interaction of superstars with their fans. How celebrities treated the people who adored them spoke volumes about their moral fiber.

  Isadora sensed Amanda’s presence and, turning slightly to face her, gave her a small wave of acknowledgment. Her eyes widened, signaling to her mother how excited she was to be in the company of her teenage crush. Six months may have come and gone, but clearly, Isadora still felt excited about being in their presence.

  Soon Isadora would transition into adulthood, and eventually, that meant finding someone to share her life with—a relationship that would go far beyond the playful flirtati
on of an innocent romance. Amanda couldn’t help but think how different Isadora’s courtship would be if they lived in Lancaster County instead of amid the bright lights and alluring nightlife of Miami, Florida.

  As she watched her daughter, Amanda thought back to her own teenage years, when she had turned sixteen and started her rumschpringe. While some Amish girls keenly anticipated their birthdays, looking forward to finally attending youth gatherings, Amanda hadn’t been one of them. When her friends sat around whispering about which boy might ask them to ride home in a buggy, Amanda had merely smiled and nodded her head, but never contributed. They thought she was being secretive, but, in truth, she wasn’t interested in dating. Not yet, anyway.

  Most nights, she walked home from the singings by herself. On a few occasions, she had accepted an offer to ride home with a young man, but she was never courted by anyone. Not like Anna.

  Everyone had thought that Menno Zook would marry Anna. That spring, even their mother had begun planning her garden with the idea that they might have a wedding in the autumn. But the sudden death of their younger brother, Aaron, had thrown everything into a tailspin. After the accident, a dark cloud of gloom hovered over the Beiler farm, and to everyone’s surprise, Menno had married another Amish girl, leaving Anna to balance the heartache of the loss of her brother and the loss of her suitor.

  It was an unusual situation. Usually during courtship, a young man and woman who rode home from the youth gatherings together for an extended period of time eventually married. Unlike the world in which Alejandro lived, dating was done with the sole intention of finding a life partner, not a one-night companion.

  With a start, Amanda realized that it was just that world that Isadora was so innocently standing in. She suddenly looked at the Banff band members in a different light. Regardless of how nicely they treated Isadora now, within a few short years, the general respect shown for the fourteen-year-old daughter of Viper would turn into something more sinister.

  Amanda fought the feeling of rising anxiety. She knew that while no one was immune to receiving a broken heart—even when living in an Amish community—Isadora was at risk of experiencing something far worse: a broken spirit.

  And that was something Amanda knew she couldn’t allow to happen.

  Chapter Ten

  Even though the drive from the Philadelphia airport to Lititz, Pennsylvania, was less than two hours, all three children had fallen asleep in the back of the large Escalade that Alejandro had arranged to pick up at the airport. Amanda fought the urge to doze while Alejandro drove along the highway toward Lancaster. Alecia, however, sat upright in the backseat, her alert eyes staring out the window as the scenery changed from urban to rural.

  Earlier that morning, when they had left for the airport, the two younger children had practically stumbled out the front door, half-asleep. Once inside the car, both Sofia and Nicolas had curled up beside their grandmother. Isadora, however, was still exuberant from the previous evening. She stared at her phone, scrolling through the photos and monitoring her social media accounts until they arrived at the airport. But even she had slept in the private jet as well as during the car ride from the airport to the farm.

  Now, as the landscape began to look familiar, Amanda couldn’t help but wake them.

  “We’re almost there,” she said in a gentle whisper.

  Slowly, there was movement. Nicolas was the first to shift in his seat and press his nose against the window. “Why are the trees so ugly?” he asked. “Where are their leaves? Why is everything gray and yucky?”

  Alejandro stifled a laugh as Amanda frowned. “It’s winter, dear heart. Seasons change here.”

  Nicolas gave a slight scoff, clearly not in favor of bare trees and overcast skies.

  Alecia inhaled loudly, as if to make her presence known. “And to think,” she said in a tight voice, “it was so sunny and warm all day yesterday.”

  Beside her, Alejandro stiffened, and Amanda quickly placed her hand on his thigh, hoping that he wouldn’t comment. To Amanda’s surprise, Alecia had remained steadfast in her determination to travel to Lancaster County with them. Right up until they boarded the plane, Amanda had doubted whether her mother-in-law would actually make the journey. But Alejandro had told her that Alecia would be unlikely to change her mind, even though he didn’t seem thrilled with the idea that she would join them.

  Amanda glanced over the seat toward her mother-in-law. “Oh, Alecia,” she said in a cheerful voice. “One week of change is good for all of us. We’ll surely appreciate Miami’s winters when we get back.”

  Isadora made a face. “I already appreciated them,” she mumbled, and Amanda gave her a look of disapproval.

  “Please, Isadora,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I’m counting on you to be positive.”

  “Okay. I’m positive that I’d much rather be on the beach, tanning.”

  Amanda gave her a warning look, and Isadora lowered her eyes in understanding.

  “Fine.” Somehow, Isadora had a way of making the word into two syllables.

  Amanda looked out the window, and her heart skipped a beat. As Alejandro pulled into the driveway past the old, beat-up gray mailbox and a new white fence, she caught her breath. There it was, right in front of her—her childhood home. The farm appeared smaller than Amanda remembered it. She glanced at Alejandro, but with his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, she could not read his expression. In the backseat, the children had stopped talking and now peered out the windows. Isadora seemed more relaxed than Sofia, and as usual, Nicolas took his emotional cues from Sofia.

  “Is this Grandma’s house?” Sofia asked, the slight Sofia asked, the slight inflection of her voice hinting at her shock.

  Alecia mumbled something in Spanish and Alejandro responded just as quickly, which brought silence to his mother.

  “It smells,” Nicolas added, pinching the end of his nose.

  Alejandro cast a stern look over his shoulder at his son. “¡Basta, hijo!”

  Scowling, Nicolas crossed his arms over his chest and sank farther into his car seat.

  “I think I remember . . . ,” Isadora said in a quiet voice, her expression changing from sour to excited.

  Amanda reached over and touched Isadora’s leg. “Do you, now?”

  Slowly, Isadora nodded her head. “It’s a happy place. I . . . I remember that much.”

  Her daughter’s words warmed Amanda’s heart. Of all the children, Isadora had spent the most time at her family’s farm. But she had been so young that Amanda worried that Isadora would have no memories—or even worse, unhappy ones!—regarding that period of her life. Nine years ago, Amanda had left Alejandro’s South American tour with her newly adopted stepdaughter, seeking a calm place for Isadora to adapt to her new life. It had been a hard time for both of them: Isadora having lost her mother and her grandparents and leaving her home country, Brazil, and Amanda having to leave her new husband, not knowing what would happen to their marriage.

  Hearing Isadora refer to the farm as a happy memory meant that Amanda had done the right thing when she’d brought the child away from the rowdy tour to adapt to her new life in the peaceful surroundings of Amanda’s own Amish upbringing.

  Now, she thought, if I can only reach the other two.

  “Look!” Amanda said in an excited voice. “They’ve painted the barn red!”

  “So they did,” Alejandro replied as he slowed the car. “I wonder why. You don’t see many red barns out here.”

  “I bet that was Jonas’s doing. I remember Ohio had so many red barns.” Amanda gave a slight sigh. “So much has changed, yet it all seems so familiar.”

  “Who’s Jonas?” Nicholas asked.

  “Your uncle, goose!”

  Amanda turned to reprimand Sofia. But she was already leaning forward, her hand on the back of Amanda’s seat. “Mami, is this really where we are staying? Nicolas is right. The air smells bad.”

  “That’s from the cows, mija,” Alej
andro answered for Amanda. “You have a week to get used to it.”

  “A whole week?” Sofia wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  Amanda covered Sofia’s hand with her own. “You won’t even notice the odor after an hour or so. Trust me.”

  “Do you smell it?” Sofia asked.

  Amanda shook her head. “Nee, not the same way you do.” She smiled at her daughter. “To me, the air doesn’t smell bad at all. Instead, it smells like I’ve come home.”

  Nicolas made a face, and Sofia’s eyes opened wide at Amanda’s comment. “This doesn’t smell like home to me,” she said softly.

  Isadora nudged her sister with her elbow. “Stop, Sofia. You’ll make Mami feel bad. This is where she grew up.” She looked out the window at the empty cornfields. “It’s a good place,” she said in a soft voice, a distant look in her eyes.

  No sooner had the car stopped than Amanda unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, not waiting for the rest of her family. She stood next to the car for a long moment and stared at the different buildings: the house, the stable, the dairy barn. All of them were in need of a good paint job, especially the dairy. Or had it always been like that, patches of chipped paint in various spots? She couldn’t remember.

  Like the farm, the house looked smaller than Amanda had remembered. She had tried to explain to the children that it was actually two houses: a main house for Anna and her family and a smaller house for Mammi Lizzie. Like all Amish houses, they were connected so that both sides could have privacy if they wanted it, as well as easy access to each other if they needed it. It was common on Amish farms for several generations to live on the property.

  The front door of the main house opened, and a young woman in a brown dress emerged. She tossed a heavy black shawl around her shoulders as she hurried down the steps. Anna. Behind her sister, a young girl stepped outside. She looked to be around Sofia’s age, and Amanda immediately knew that the girl was Hannah, Anna’s first child, who was born just months before Sofia. Now she stood on the porch, a perfect replica of Anna. She held her baby brother, Samuel, while her younger sisters, Rachel, Sylvia, and Elizabeth, peered out the door, their eyes wide with curiosity. Each of the girls had their hair parted in the middle and pulled back away from her face. Of the children, only Hannah wore a scarf over her head.

 

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