by Sarah Price
She didn’t respond right away. She was still wearing the same clothes as the night before and had nothing to change into for facing a new day.
“Let me rephrase that, Princesa,” he said, smiling at her. “I would love your company.”
The look on his face made her smile. “Why is that, Alejandro? All those years, you did this alone. Now you want my company?”
He set the coffee down and stood up, approaching her slowly. When he stood before her, he took a deep breath and reached for her hand. It was small and delicate in his, and he lifted it to his lips. “Amanda,” he breathed. “There is something about you . . . I just cannot explain it.”
She tilted her head, part of her wishing that he would kiss her. His voice, his smile, the sparkle of his light-blue eyes. All of it was more than she could handle. “Try,” she said, her own voice a breathless whisper.
Lifting his eyebrow, he stared at her, surprised by her tone. “You are full of surprises, sí?” Tracing a line along her cheek, he brushed his finger across her lips. “You make me feel . . .” He sought the right word. “Alive.”
“Alive?” His choice of words surprised her. She raised an eyebrow, amused. “I should think that your entire lifestyle is very much alive,” she said.
“My lifestyle is busy,” he corrected, reaching up to teasingly tap his finger on the tip of her nose. “But it is you who have given me new life.” Then, to her delight, he did lean down and kiss her, his lips soft against hers. “And now,” he murmured. “You must get changed to accompany me, sí?”
As always, he had planned ahead. Someone had left a suitcase of her clothing by the door of the bus. He left her, just for a moment, to retrieve it and then carried it into the bedroom for her, leaving her alone to change her outfit and get ready for the morning round of interviews.
She wasn’t certain that she would ever get used to the crowds that waited for Alejandro outside of the buildings wherever he went. Hordes of people, usually screaming women, waiting and jumping and taking photos. When the limousine had pulled up at the first building, security was already waiting for them, holding back the mass of admirers that blurred together into a wave of noise.
When the car door opened, Alejandro ducked his head and got out first. He straightened his shoulders and waved to the crowd, smiling and posing for their cameras. Then he turned back to the open door and reached down for her hand. She hesitated as she took it. She didn’t like the photos, didn’t like the noise. But as she stepped out of the car, a roar went up around them.
“Smile,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, putting his arm around her waist and waving, once again, to the crowds.
At first, Amanda didn’t understand. Then, after repeating his words to herself, she realized that he wanted her to smile at the crowd. She tried to force a smile as he guided her down the cleared walkway toward the entrance of the tall building. Her eyes trailed away from the people, and she glanced up at a large building down the street. She lifted her eyes, craning her neck as she stared up, into the sky.
That was the photo that would be published on the front cover of the newspaper the next day: Viper staring at Amanda as she searched the heavens, her face in awe of the buildings, and his in amusement at her.
“So, Viper,” DJ Scott said into the microphone. “I see you brought your private entourage with you today.”
Amanda was sitting on a high stool next to Alejandro. She felt uncomfortable with the large microphone in front of her and certainly didn’t want to talk to this loud, rambunctious man seated across from her. With messy hair and tattoos on his neck, DJ Scott may have impressed San Francisco listeners, but he did nothing for Amanda.
She reached her hand up to press the little plastic earphone that was in her ear. It was awkward and unnatural to have something stuck into her ear like that.
“I know people are curious about Amanda, so I thought she should come along with me,” Alejandro said, laughing as DJ Scott lifted his sunglasses and raised his eyebrows. “And she’s not my private entourage.”
“Really?” DJ Scott twirled his chair so that he was facing Amanda. “And what, exactly, is this lovely lady to you, Alejandro?”
Amanda frowned and narrowed her eyes. Why had Alejandro insisted that she come with him?
“Well,” Alejandro said, clearing his throat. “She is traveling with me, sí? She is my . . .” He paused and glanced at Amanda. When he saw that she was glaring at the disc jockey, he chuckled. “My good friend.”
DJ Scott laughed into the microphone. “You have an awful lot of ‘good friends,’ Viper. Never seen one travel with you.”
Alejandro grunted and shook his head at the disc jockey, indicating that a change of subject was in order. “About our show tonight, sí?”
DJ Scott lifted his hand. “Wait a minute, Viper.” He turned his attention back to Amanda. “I’d like to hear from your friend about what she thinks of California. From what I understand, she hasn’t been here before.”
They both turned to look at Amanda. She glanced over at Viper and lifted her shoulder. He motioned toward the microphone, indicating that she should talk into it.
“Hello?” she said, leaning toward it.
Both men laughed.
“Just answer the question, Princesa,” Alejandro coaxed softly.
She questioned him with her eyes. Had someone actually asked her a question?
“What do you think about California?” he repeated softly.
“I just talk?” she asked.
DJ Scott lifted his sunglasses off his eyes and stared at her, amused at her innocence.
“Sí, into the microphone,” Alejandro said gently and moved the microphone closer to her.
“Ja vell,” she said. “I haven’t seen much of San Francisco yet, but the buildings are tall.”
“The buildings?”
She nodded. “Ja. And there are a lot of them, like in Los Angeles.”
“People come here for the views of the bay and the beaches, yet you are admiring the buildings?” DJ Scott laughed. He glanced over at Viper and smirked. “I understand you were at Viper’s concert last night. What did you think?”
“Oh, it was rather loud and the people screamed a lot,” she said. “Especially the women.”
Both DJ Scott and Alejandro laughed.
“But the music . . .” She paused and chewed on her lower lip. For a moment, she was back at the stadium, seated before the stage and watching Alejandro transform into Viper. She could hear the beat of the music, feel the heat of the lyrics, and sense the life that exploded around her. “I have never heard anything like that. It was . . .”
Alejandro raised an eyebrow, curious as to what she would say.
“It was so . . . alive.”
DJ Scott laughed, his amusement increasing at the woman who sat before him. He glanced at Viper and nodded his head, as if silently communicating his approval. “Alive?” he repeated the word she had used. “I’ve heard Viper’s music called a lot of things but never ‘alive.’”
She tilted her head and looked at him. “Doesn’t it make you feel as if you are on top of the world? Like when we flew out here, I felt the same way. I thought his music was every emotion rolled into one. It was energetic. It was romantic.” She hesitated before she added, “It was even spiritual.”
“Spiritual?” He spat the word as if it were dirty.
Ignoring his tone, she nodded her head. “At my church, we sing to God. We honor him through hymns. Our songs tell stories and teach lessons. It is a way to pass along our traditions. To connect with the Lord. To keep our community together. His music is no different, ja?”
DJ Scott sat back in his seat, his mouth hanging open. For the first time in a long time, he was speechless.
Alejandro laughed. “Ay, mi madre,” he managed to say. “Princesa, you have done it!”
She looked alarmed. “What did I do?”
“Floored DJ Scott!”
DJ Scott shook his head, trying to regain his composure. He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Viper. “Well, I’m not quite certain of how to respond to that,” he managed to say. “A spiritual Viper? Seems like you may have lost your venom!”
Alejandro rolled his eyes but chuckled. “That remains to be seen.”
The rest of the interview focused on the Viper tour and where they were headed over the next few days. It was news to Amanda that they were going to Las Vegas the following day and then, after two nights of performances, that they would return to Los Angeles for an awards ceremony where Alejandro would be performing.
“Male Artist of the Year,” DJ Scott said, shaking his head. “Sure have come a long way from the streets, haven’t you, my friend?”
Alejandro sighed. “Long way is right, amigo. No more fighting in clubs or battling with the boys on the streets.”
“When will you be headed back to Miami?”
“Next week,” Alejandro said. “It will be good to have a week in my city. Party with mi gente!” He said the last part with a great flourish, and DJ Scott laughed at him.
Amanda glanced at him. Miami? She hadn’t thought about that. His home. Her heart fluttered at the thought. What would happen when he was home, without the interviews or the concerts? She wondered what he did during his spare time. What would she do?
“Amanda? Have you finished piecing that quilt top yet?”
She rolled her eyes.
Her mother took her silence as an affirmation that the task wasn’t finished. “Are you daydreaming again?” She clicked her tongue several times as she hurried over to see what Amanda was doing. “Idle hands and idle minds . . .” she complained when she saw that Amanda hadn’t been finishing the task.
“I know, I know,” Amanda said. “I’m sorry, Mamm. I was thinking about the garden for this spring. I can’t wait until the warm weather returns. This cold is just . . .” She searched her memory for the right word. “Well, just downright cold! Makes me want to sleep until it warms up!”
“Ja, mayhaps you want to sleep, but you need to finish piecing that quilt top. You know we’re having folks over to start on your sister’s wedding quilt.”
Amanda frowned. “She’s not even courting anyone yet!”
Her mother stopped and turned to look at Amanda. “She needs to fill that hope chest. One day it will be your turn, and she’ll most likely reciprocate!”
Bending her head to the material in her hands, Amanda continued working on the quilt. It wasn’t what she wanted to do. She’d much prefer being able to daydream or just go take a nap. But there was no such thing as downtime on an Amish farm. Even in the winter, there was quilting or crocheting to do when the other chores were finished.
She just didn’t see what was so evil about idle hands or idle minds. Even the Lord gave the people a day of rest.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind. More interviews, more driving, more crowds. She met people, shook their hands, and just as quickly forgot their names. Everywhere they went, there were photographs taken of Alejandro with fans, alone, sometimes with her. She didn’t care for any of it but found peace in the small gestures that Alejandro made. He always made certain she was taken care of and never alone for long. He included her by keeping her by his side and occasionally putting his arm around her waist, and always had a soft word of reassurance to whisper in her ear.
People seemed to smile wherever they went. Everyone greeted Alejandro as if they knew him. At a local television station, a young woman was charged with escorting them through the building. She seemed to gush with enthusiasm, introducing Alejandro to everyone she passed.
It was around two in the afternoon when Alejandro finally collapsed next to her in the limousine. He reached into the ice bucket for a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. He handed it to her, then reached for another.
He sighed and drank from the bottle before leaning back into the seat and rubbing his eyes.
“You are tired, ja?”
He glanced at her, then shut his eyes again. “Sí, tired.”
“You have a long night ahead of you,” she pointed out. “Can’t you rest?”
Another sigh as he glanced at his watch. “Need to grab a bite to eat, then get over to the stadium. Sound check before the meet and greet at six.”
She wondered how he could keep going like this. At every stop, he was on. Viper. Smiling, laughing, cheerful, and polite. The same questions from different people. The same sound bites to give them answers. And always the photographs and crowds. They would travel that night in the bus, leaving San Francisco for Las Vegas, where they would do it all over again. The only good news was that they were staying in a hotel in Las Vegas, and he told her she could sleep late on both mornings.
“I have to let you know that my manager, Mike, is going to be in Los Angeles,” Alejandro said, glancing at his cell phone and scrolling through several messages. “He’s taking us to lunch.”
From his tone, she sensed that there was an underlying message to his words. “Is that a good thing, then?”
Alejandro shrugged. “He’s a marketer. That means he looks at everything as an opportunity,” he explained, but she didn’t really understand what he meant. “And then, Miami!” He smiled to himself, a distant expression on his face as he thought of his Miami home. “A little R & R by the pool, sí?”
“R & R?” She didn’t know what that meant but figured it must be something right gut from the smile that stayed on his face. He looked happy, and she found herself wanting to reach out and touch his hand, to hold it, and feel his arms around her.
“Rest and relaxation.”
“Like a Sunday?” she asked, tucking her legs under her as she sat next to him in the limousine.
He laughed. “Like a Sunday, sí, only it will be a few days of Sundays strung together.”
She pondered that for a moment. She couldn’t remember ever having days off, doing nothing. Idle hands . . . “What do you do with a string of Sundays, Alejandro?”
Turning his head, he stared at her, his tired smile still on his face. His eyes studied her face, and before she knew it, he’d reached out and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. The gesture startled her, and she jumped. Yet, rather than pull away, she pressed her cheek against his hand, shutting her eyes and enjoying his touch.
“You are so beautiful, Amanda,” he whispered. His eyes flickered over her, taking in her beige long skirt and white silk blouse. Their outfits were matching, and that amused him. With her hair pulled back, she looked older and sophisticated. “Beautiful, sí. But inside and out.” He leaned over and gently kissed her on the cheek, an affectionate kiss to compliment her innocence. “We will do whatever you wish, Princesa,” he finally responded. “But we shall definitely have a fiesta with music and people, food and drink, dancing and singing!” This last part, he said with more energy and life. “We shall celebrate Amanda, the most famous Amish woman in the world!”
“That sounds terrible!” she said, making a face at him.
Once again, he laughed at her. “I suppose it does, sí? Well, we shall find something to celebrate.” His phone rang, and he glanced at it. He checked the caller ID and sighed. “Excuse me, Princesa. I must take this call.”
While he conversed on the phone in Spanish, she turned and stared out the window. Buildings flashed by, and she found herself admiring the different types of architecture. Unlike Los Angeles, San Francisco seemed to be full of old-fashioned character, reflected throughout the small buildings skirting the roads they traveled. Some of these roads were hilly and as the car reached a crest, she would enjoy a plunging view of the beautiful San Francisco Bay and marvel at the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean.
Amanda had never seen an ocean bef
ore this day, and she caught her breath. She wished that they could go to the beach. She wanted to feel sand under her bare feet, the cool water on her toes. It never crossed her mind to make such a request. She knew that Alejandro had a busy afternoon ahead of him. As for herself, she was tired, too; the jet lag of crossing the country and sleeping in strange places had taken its toll on her. She turned away from the window and shut her eyes, feeling the familiar sting of weariness.
She knew it was past suppertime at home. Her parents would have eaten already, and her father was most likely finishing his evening chores. She wondered if they missed her, and she made a mental note to call them on that strange phone that Alejandro had given to her the other day. Even if she only left a message, she would feel better for reaching out to them to let them know that she was fine, surviving in the world of the Englische.
Englische, she thought, leaning her head against Alejandro’s shoulder. When she did, she felt him shift, and he stretched his arm around her, pulling her against him. If this was the world of the Englische, she thought, it wasn’t as bad as she had imagined She was surprised at her own ability to adapt, to follow Alejandro’s guidance. While she missed some things about the farm, she also felt that her senses were heightened as they traveled from place to place.
She found that she was even looking forward to the concert that evening, although her ears were still ringing from the previous night. In her mind, she could still see Alejandro on the stage, singing and dancing to entertain all of those adoring fans. He was truly a different person onstage, his clothing soaked in sweat by the time the concert was over. She knew that he gave the audience everything he had during the show, and she admired him for how hard he worked.
When they arrived back at the stadium, Alejandro walked her to the bus and told her he’d return before the show if she wanted to take a short nap. Then, with a quick kiss planted on her lips, he turned and hurried to a small group of men waiting for him by the entrance. Inside the bus, Amanda watched from the window as he embraced several of them, clapping them on the shoulders in a gesture of warmth and familiarity. Without looking back, they walked through the open doors and inside the building.