Plain Christmas (Plain Fame Book 6)

by Sarah Price

  “This just doesn’t make sense,” Amanda mumbled to herself. Over the last few days, she had noticed how happy Alejandro had increasingly become. But she had never known him to do something so rash. He hadn’t become the superstar that he was without precise planning and perfect execution. When it came to his finances, Alejandro was meticulous and very careful. And although she knew Alejandro would pay for the horse’s upkeep, it would be an added burden for an already overworked Jonas. Alejandro wouldn’t do such a thing to Jonas or her family. He’d always taken care of his family and friends, and that included Anna and her husband. No, there was definitely something else going on, but neither Alejandro nor her sister appeared ready to share it with her.

  Amanda resolved not to say anything else to Alejandro about it. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he told her the reason he had made such an impulsive purchase. After all, they were partners in the marriage, and Alejandro never made a major decision, whether personal or professional, without first consulting with her unless he had good reason to do so. She might not understand why he did certain things, but she knew that he would explain his rationale eventually.

  Alecia, however, had a different reaction. Rather than remain quiet, she continued to question her son’s acquisition. Amanda refused to comment, knowing better than to disrespect her husband by feeding into Alecia’s fretting. Yet, Amanda’s silence did nothing to deter her. While Alejandro and Jonas went driving with the new horse, Alecia continued to pace the floor and shake her head, mumbling to herself in Spanish and occasionally complaining out loud about why her son would make such an impulsive purchase in a place that he hardly visited. Within an hour, she had worked herself into such a frenzy that she asked for some Tylenol and excused herself to take a nap.

  “That’s a fine idea,” Anna said as she stood up, rubbing the small of her back. “I think I’ll follow Alecia’s example, if you don’t mind.” She walked over to where Samuel was playing with his toys, lying on his stomach on an old quilt covering the floor. “And I reckon you, little one, could use an hour or so before the rest of the kinner lose interest in the new horse and want their supper!” She bent down to pick up her son, wincing as she straightened up.

  Amanda sat at the kitchen table and chopped vegetables to toss into the boiling water. She wanted to make a nice soup to go with the fresh bread that cooled on the wire rack by the stove. From time to time, she would look up, glancing at Isadora, who was sitting on the sofa watching Lizzie crochet a small lace doily as she rocked back and forth in the rocking chair. The thin thread seemed to slide through Lizzie’s fingers as she crocheted. Amanda had also liked to watch her mother when she worked with such fine thread. She would try to follow her mother’s fingers as they worked, but they moved far too fast for her to ever understand how she made such delicate and pretty doilies.

  “Mammi Lizzie,” Isadora asked, her big eyes still staring at Lizzie, “when did you learn how to do that?”

  “Ach, child!” Lizzie set her work upon her lap and shook her head as she tried to formulate an answer. “Oh my. I’d have to think about that. Seems my own grossmammi taught me how to do this when I was just a tad older than Sofia.”

  Isadora sat on the edge of the sofa, her eyes bright and shining. “Really?”

  Lizzie glanced up to the ceiling as she thought back in time. “Let’s see,” she said slowly. “Ja, I was no more than eight years old when I started to crochet. Started with small washcloths. By the time I was ten years old, I was working on baby blankets. I remember that my parents gave me some yarn and a new crochet needle for my birthday that year.” She smiled at the memory. “But I didn’t start crocheting with fine thread like this until later.”

  Amanda watched the interaction between her mother and Isadora. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse. Why hadn’t she taught Isadora how to crochet? In fact, when was the last time she had crocheted at all? She used to love crocheting blankets, but somewhere along the way, she had stopped. Amanda couldn’t exactly remember when or why. Perhaps when she became too engrossed with her role dealing with the public. When she had first married Alejandro, she took her yarn and needle with her on some of their trips. But when her role as a public figure began to develop, Alejandro’s publicity team had placed increasing demands upon her until finally he’d arranged for her to have her own team of people to overbook her schedule. Amanda found less and less time to sit and relax. Now, although she didn’t travel as often with Alejandro, she still had to balance being a mother of three with her weekly commitments. Free time to crochet was a luxury she had lost a long time ago.

  And that meant that teaching her children how to crochet simply never had entered the picture.

  “Would you teach me, Mammi Lizzie?” Isadora asked.

  Lizzie’s mouth opened in surprise. It was clear that Isadora’s question had dumbfounded her. “Why, of course, child!” She reached down to dig through her bag of yarn that was tucked behind her chair. After fishing around, she withdrew an extra crochet hook and handed it to Isadora. “Pick out a color yarn from that box over there, and I’d be happy to show you.”

  Watching her mother and daughter sit together, Isadora listening intently while watching Lizzie’s fingers as grandmother taught granddaughter a skill that had been passed through the family for generations, brought tears to Amanda’s eyes. She looked away, ashamed that she had not taught her own daughter something so very basic to her heritage. But then again, it was Amanda’s heritage, not Isadora’s.

  “Mami?”

  Amanda’s concentration was broken by someone tugging at her skirt. Sofia stood behind her, a worried look on her face. Amanda knelt down before her daughter. She hadn’t heard Sofia come inside and wondered why she wasn’t playing with the other children. “Ja, mi amor?”

  “Do you think I might learn, too?” she whispered, nervously glancing toward her sister and grandmother.

  Amanda forced a smile that hid her tears. She felt joy at the fact that her daughters wanted to learn something so basic to her childhood, but at the same time shame at her neglect in denying them such a simple skill that would’ve created so many bonding moments between them.

  Lost bonding moments and only herself to blame for it, she realized. And yet there was still time to change all of that. Right now, right here.

  “Come, Sofia,” Amanda said as she reached out for Sofia’s hand, a look of resolution on her face. “Let me show you the way my mamm taught me.” Sofia placed her hand inside her mother’s, the warmth of the small child’s touch lingering in Amanda’s heart long after, together, hand-in-hand, they walked over to the sofa and joined Isadora and Lizzie.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Back in my country, when I was a little girl,” Alecia was saying to Nicolas as they sat on the sofa, talking while Anna and Amanda made breakfast, “I used to tend to the household chores at your age, too, Nicolas. We didn’t have a cow, though. Goats. Lots of goats. But the milking process was the same.” Alecia smiled nostalgically as Nicolas stared at her with an expression of childlike wonder.

  “You lived on a farm?”

  She nodded, clearly pleased that she had captured his attention. “¡Sí, claro! Not as big as this farm, though.”

  “Did it smell as bad, Abuela?” he asked as Amanda gave him a look of warning.

  Alecia waved off Amanda’s concern with Nicolas’s comment. “Ay, mija, he’s just a boy. Besides,” she said in a lowered voice as she leaned toward Nicolas as if telling him a big secret, “goats smell just as bad as the cows, but you get used to it. A person can adapt to almost anything over time. But once you live on a farm, a piece of you always misses it.”

  Amanda’s mouth opened, just a little, when she heard Alecia say that. For the first time that week, Amanda took a good hard look at Alecia and suddenly recognized that there had been a subtle transformation in her. Could it be that being here had brought back forgotten memories for her mother-in-law as well? Amanda never had
imagined such a thing could happen and yet, why not?

  Alejandro had told her stories about Alecia’s difficult childhood in Cuba. She had grown up in a rural area of the island that, with a little stretch of the imagination, sounded similar to Lititz. Of course, the weather in Cuba was nothing like Pennsylvania, but she had lived with her family on a farm.

  Yes, from the stories Alejandro shared and from what Alecia was telling Nicolas now, Amanda knew that her mother-in-law had been born into a very simple life. Later, as a young single mother, she had emigrated to America, settling in Miami as she struggled to make ends meet and raise her young son. Her life had made a complete 180-degree turn.

  And yet, as Alecia reminisced, there was a distant but happy look in her eyes. Was this experience bringing those memories back to Alecia?

  Amanda looked over again at her mother-in-law and realized that she might have misjudged her. After all, the changes that came with her son’s whirlwind fame couldn’t have been easy for Alecia, either. In her life, she’d gone through a lot of adjustments, making many sacrifices for the happiness of her only child. Amanda, of all people, understood that.

  She reached over and patted Alecia on the shoulder, giving her a small smile of understanding. Alecia’s eyes widened, and she returned the smile. After all, they both loved Alejandro with all of their hearts. Amanda suspected that tonight Alecia would not be retiring early to her bedroom to call anyone. In fact, Amanda was certain that the Amish lifestyle was beginning to grow on her mother-in-law.

  After listening to Alecia and Nicolas interact, Amanda made her way to the kitchen and put on an apron. She intended to take over the cooking so that Anna could sit and relax. Her back had been hurting her for the past two days, and Amanda found herself wondering if her sister was experiencing contractions or perhaps false labor. Either way, with Alecia and Isadora helping, Amanda could surely handle preparing the breakfast meal and school lunches.

  Hannah and Rachel walked out of their parents’ bedroom door just off the staircase with Samuel in Hannah’s arms. His head was tucked beneath her shoulder, hiding his face from the others.

  “Oh, will you look at that!” Anna couldn’t hide her joy. “He’s playing shy now!”

  Rachel spread a crocheted blanket on the floor and sat down so that Hannah could set Samuel down beside her. Sofia ran over to join her cousin, helping her to steady the child on the blanket. They sat on either side of him and tried to balance his little body as he wobbled and teetered, his two chubby legs splayed out in different directions.

  Nicolas leaned against Amanda while she stood over the stove. “Is Papi taking us to the schoolhouse again today?”

  Amanda flipped the pancakes in the skillet. “I’m sure he could,” she said. “Unless you want to walk in the snow.”

  He caught his breath. Clearly, the prospect of walking in the snow was much more appealing than being driven. “I wanna walk to school!”

  “My word!” she said, laughing.

  At the table, Lizzie finished brushing Sylvia’s hair and, after setting down the brush, began to twist and roll her long hair into a proper bun.

  “Don’t you go to school in Miami?” Sylvia asked.

  Nicolas nodded. “But I don’t get to walk to school!” he said, as if he were being denied a great privilege.

  “Oh?”

  He shook his head. “Or take a bus. Mami has one of the drivers take us in a car.”

  Lizzie’s laughter subsided, and she raised an eyebrow as she looked at Amanda. “I see.”

  “It’s too far away for them to walk,” Amanda said as she slid the spatula under the pancakes and moved them to the waiting plate.

  “A little more exposure to fresh air might do them well,” Lizzie said as she finished with Sylvia’s bun and reached out for Elizabeth, who was waiting to have her hair done as well. “And it sure seems that your little one enjoys playing outside well enough.”

  Amanda couldn’t argue with her mother on that point. Ever since the cookie swap, Nicolas had spent almost all of his free time in the barn. Sometimes he played by himself; other times he managed to persuade his sister and cousins to join him. It wasn’t a hard sell for Sofia, as she loved to wander the farm and play with the animals, especially the kittens in the barn.

  “It’s not something they can do in Miami,” Amanda admitted, realizing how horrible that must sound. “I mean, at least not without security and then, of course, if people recognize them . . .”

  Lizzie clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Not to be able to play outside! Well! I never heard such nonsense.” Then, setting the hairbrush on her lap, she leaned forward as if she were telling a secret to Nicolas. “When I was your age, we always walked to school, Nicolas. Even when it was raining outside.”

  “And snowing?” he asked.

  “Oh ja! Especially in the snow. Sometimes my older bruder would pull me down the road to school on a sled!” She laughed at the memory, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Picking up the brush from her lap, she began to pull it gently through Elizabeth’s hair. “Why, those are some of my best childhood memories!”

  Nicolas lit up at the mention of a sled. “Do you have a sled here, Mammi Lizzie?”

  Hannah answered for Lizzie. “Ja, in the barn.”

  “Can we take it to school?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw Anna’s back stiffen. While Nicolas was organizing the logistics of which cousin would pull him on the sled to school, Amanda walked over and placed her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Everything alright?” she asked quietly.

  Anna nodded but that was her only response. Clearly, she wasn’t going to admit that something was wrong in the presence of the children. Amanda would have to wait for them to leave before she could confront Anna and find out why her sister was so quiet this morning.

  By the time the children were dressed, lunches were packed, and coats were all zipped up, Amanda found herself breathing a sigh of relief. Through the open doorway, she watched Sofia and Nicolas as they ran with Hannah and Rachel toward the barn, intent on fetching the sled that Jonas had volunteered to find for them.

  A few minutes later, Hannah and Rachel pulled the old wooden sled down the driveway and toward the road. Nicolas was happily sitting on it with a big grin on his face, while Sofia brought up the rear, swinging the red-and-white lunch cooler in her hand.

  “My word!” Amanda said as she closed the front door when they finally disappeared around the corner of the dairy barn. “I have to admit it’s nice to have a quiet break.”

  She moved to the kitchen table and sat down across from her sister. “Honestly, Anna, I don’t know how you do it every day!”

  “Oh, they are such big helpers around the farm,” Anna said cheerfully. “That Hannah is like a little mother to Samuel, too. When I’m milking the cows in the morning, she often gets up to tend to him. And makes breakfast, as well.” There was more than a hint of pride in her voice.

  Amanda remembered how, when their baby brother Aaron had been born, they’d both taken on much more responsibility. While Amanda managed to help with more of the outdoor chores, such as the gardening and the milking, it had been Anna who took over a lot of their mother’s morning routine. But Anna hadn’t needed to tend to three younger sisters and a developmentally disabled brother.

  “Oh my,” Anna whispered, placing her hand on the side of her stomach.

  “Kicking?”

  Anna shook her head. “Nee, my back is stiff, and it hurts a bit.”

  “Maybe Alejandro should take you to the doctor,” Amanda suggested.

  Anna shook her head. “I’m fine,” she replied with a forced smile. “Besides, we have so much baking to do. I promised to bring cookies and granola bars to the school pageant tomorrow.”

  At this remark, Amanda made a sound of disbelief. Hadn’t Samuel been born over two months early? The complications of the birth had not only denied the baby oxygen he needed but had also endangered Anna’s life. Even i
f Anna was further along than she had been with Samuel, Amanda couldn’t understand why her sister would chance the health of her unborn daughter, especially with the doctors monitoring her so closely.

  “Mamm? Don’t you think Anna should go?”

  Lizzie looked up from the devotional that she was reading. She took a moment before responding and studied Anna as she sat at the table. Her expression changed from one of relaxation to one of growing concern. “Well, now . . .” She set aside her booklet and stood up. “You do look a bit worn, Anna.”

  “I just need to lie down a spell,” she argued.

  But neither Amanda nor Lizzie looked convinced.

  Crossing the room, Lizzie glanced at the clock. “Mayhaps we might call the doctor,” she said, placing her hand on Anna’s forehead. “Just to be safe. It’s after nine. They should be open yet.”

  Abruptly, Anna pulled away from her mother’s hand. “I don’t have a fever,” she said with a little laugh. “Just some backache, I reckon. Carrying Samuel all the time along with all this extra weight,” she added, pointing to her stomach, “is bound to hurt my back. That’s all.”

  Lizzie glanced at Amanda and raised an eyebrow. Amanda knew that her mother was not comfortable with Anna’s nonchalant attitude about the pain she was experiencing.

  Anna started to stand up. “I’m fine,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “See? Besides, I need to get to that laundry so that it can dry in the basement. Then we need to start the baking for the—” She stopped talking midsentence and bent over, her hand immediately pressing against her stomach.

  “I’ll go get Jonas,” Amanda whispered to her mother as she hurried out of the kitchen. Not even pausing to grab her coat, she hurried out the door to the barn to summon her brother-in-law.

  The freshly fallen snow crunched under her shoes, and she slid, just once, from a fine layer of ice hidden beneath it. She chastised herself for not having realized that Anna had been experiencing contractions the previous day. Her sister had grown unusually quiet early in the evening and had retired shortly after she’d put Sylvia and Elizabeth to bed.