Plain Change

by Sarah Price

  “Gracias,” he said, and the applause died down. “Gracias to mi gente for this award.” He held it up, his eyes taking it in for a long, drawn-out moment. It was clear that he was moved by the honor of receiving the recognition of his peers and the industry. “For this honor, I especially thank God, who led me down this path and showed me the way from the streets to the stage. And I couldn’t have gotten here without my fans. Without my fans, there would be no Viper.” He paused and glanced around the room until his eyes fell on Amanda. And he smiled. “Life has a funny way of changing in a moment’s notice. Embrace change and enjoy life, mis amigos. I do!” He lifted the award up. “¡Muchas gracias!” he said, thanking them one more time before he stood back from the podium and waved at the crowd.

  He was escorted off the stage, and the MC was soon announcing the nominations for the next category.

  It was almost thirty minutes later before he reappeared. He sat down next to Amanda and reached over to take her hand in his. She smiled at him and whispered, “Congratulations!”

  He squeezed her hand and returned the smile. “Not bad for a little chico from Cuba, no?” She could tell that he was pleased as well as a little overwhelmed. His humility did not go unnoticed.

  After the awards dinner, Alejandro informed her that they were invited to an after-hours party. She wasn’t quite certain what that meant. Hadn’t they just spent the night at a party? But from the eager look on his face and the way that the other men at the table were talking with him, she knew that it was important to him.

  “Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Amanda?”

  Amanda turned around and found Celinda Ruiz standing behind her. She was adjusting the back of her dress and smiling, her teeth brilliantly white and her face glowing. Amanda imagined that Celinda was much older from the sophisticated way she carried herself. But, once again, she found herself drawn to Celinda.

  “It was right gut, ja,” she said softly.

  “I love your accent,” Celinda said and touched Amanda’s arm in a friendly gesture. “It’s so . . . so . . .”

  “Amish?” Amanda offered.

  Celinda laughed. “Actually, I was going to say honest.”

  Amanda blushed. “I’m ever so sorry. I just don’t know how to talk to such worldly people,” she said, her eyes downcast. “It’s so much to take in. Everything is so different.”

  Linking her arm with Amanda’s, Celinda led her away from the small group that had gathered in the lobby while they waited for their cars. “Amanda, you are doing fine,” Celinda said. “Trust me. I grew up in this business, and I know it can be hard. To come from your background and be thrust into the limelight?” She shook her head. “It’s remarkable, really. I think that’s why the public is so fascinated with you.”

  They stopped walking by one of the windows. Outside, crowds still gathered behind the cordoned off entrance to the building, the darkness lit up from the glow of the fans holding their cell phones in the air in the hopes of capturing a photo of a celebrity. As people began to leave, the mob clamored for their photographs. For a moment, Celinda stared outside as she stood next to Amanda. They watched the crowds and the flashing lights.

  “You know,” she started slowly, “you and I are similar.”

  This surprised Amanda and she turned to look at her new friend. “I cannot begin to imagine how!” she exclaimed, but she was smiling.

  Celinda nodded. “Oh yes. We are both in the spotlight, not just because of who we are but because of who we love.” She paused for a moment and lifted her chin, obviously aware that someone was photographing her with Amanda. “Justin and I have been dating for over a year. I’m the most hated woman among teenage girls in America.” Despite the harsh words, she laughed. “You, on the other hand, have captured the attention of Viper, the hottest Latino singer in the world. Yet, surprisingly, you remain the darling of America. But that might not always be.”

  “I don’t really know what that means,” Amanda confessed.

  “It means people like you. The fans,” she explained. “And that’s good. But remember, they might like you today, but it could change without any notice. Be careful.”

  The warning was not ominous, but it gave Amanda a moment to pause and think. How could these people like her so much when they knew nothing about her? Yet, according to Celinda, they could just as easily stop liking her for no apparent reason.

  “Why do they hate you?” Amanda asked, her eyes wide and curious. Hate was a word she had never really heard used before, not among her community.

  Celinda shrugged and glanced over at Justin, who was talking with five young men. “I suppose because I have him, and they don’t. It ruins the fantasy for these girls.” She looked back at Amanda. There was a soulful look in her eyes. “It’s all about the fantasy. I’ve been to Justin’s concerts, and the young girls actually weep during his performances. Can you imagine?”

  Certainly, Amanda could not.

  “Justin having a girlfriend ruins the fantasy,” Celinda stated matter-of-factly.

  “Amanda.” He had approached her from behind, and she heard him breathe her name before she felt his hand touch her shoulder. She looked up and smiled when she saw Alejandro standing there. He was holding his award, and despite his dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, she knew that he was staring at her. “You are ready, no?”

  “Ja.” She nodded.

  They parted company with Celinda and headed toward the door. Once again, they found themselves on the red carpet and walking toward the limousine that was parked at the end of it, waiting for them in order to take them to the after-hours party.

  But Amanda was tired. She sat next to Alejandro in the limo and, taking a deep breath, ventured to ask the question that was on her mind. “Do you think I might return to the hotel room, Alejandro? I’m ever so tired, and I don’t think an after-hours party is something that’s for me.”

  For a moment, he didn’t answer. She could see a muscle tighten in his jaw. Disappointment. Still, as he stared at her from behind his glasses, she could feel his resolve breaking down. It was his turn to sigh. He reached up and took off his glasses. “You know that I have to go, sí?”

  “Sí,” she said sincerely.

  “¿Sí?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought a smile. “Did you just say sí?”

  “I did,” she said, just as amazed as he was.

  “No . . . ja?” When she didn’t answer, he laughed. “You have changed, Amanda Beiler. I will get you speaking Spanish yet!”

  “I don’t think one word is any indication that I could ever be fluent in Spanish,” she said, but her tone was light. “You speak it far too fast for me to pick up anything.”

  He reached over and brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I was glad you were there tonight,” he said as his eyes studied her face. “Everyone was enthralled with you, Princesa.” The way that the word enthralled rolled off his lips sent a shiver down her spine. She shut her eyes and felt him lean forward to softly brush his lips against hers. “I will miss your company tonight,” he whispered.

  She didn’t respond.

  The driver dropped him off first, and Alejandro reluctantly left her alone in the car. She heard him instructing the driver to not only drop her off at the hotel but to escort her safely inside. Then he leaned into the open car door and stared at her for a moment. “I don’t like leaving you, Princesa,” he stated. “You will text me when you get to the hotel room, sí?”

  “Ja.” She nodded, not entirely certain she’d be able to figure it out. But she would try.

  With a wink and a smile, he shut the door and disappeared into the night, the tinted windows of the car shielding her from the flashing cameras of the paparazzi and adoring fans that fawned over Alejandro. Within minutes, the limo was moving again and she was alone in Los Angeles, the farthest place on earth from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Sh
e leaned her head back against the seat and, after kicking off her shoes, sighed.

  The question floated through her mind: Do I miss the farm? In many ways, she did. She missed the quiet of the early-morning hours with birds chirping and the creaking of the metal windmill. She missed the noise of the cows chewing their cud while they waited to be milked. She missed the smell of freshly cut grass and freshly baked bread.

  Yet, she had to admit that she was enjoying her adventure. New sights, new sounds, new smells. Alejandro’s attention also added another degree of excitement to her life. He was attentive and kind, gentle and protective. She felt safe near him, even when her heart pounded so fiercely inside her chest when he was near.

  Danger, she warned herself. Yes, as much as she felt safe near him, she also knew that she was in danger. Her heart was in danger. Her future was in danger. Her ability to possibly return to the Amish way of life was in danger. She shut her eyes and sighed. It worried her that she was adapting so quickly to life with Alejandro among the Englische. How would she ever return to her family’s ways?

  Chapter Ten

  It had surprised her that she had awoken alone in the hotel room. True to his word, Alejandro had arranged for her to have an adjoining room, her own private space next to his suite. She had half expected that he would venture into her room when he returned at night, perhaps crawl into bed to hold her as he had for the past few nights.

  But when she awoke, not only was she alone, but the door between their rooms was shut. Someone had closed it during the night.

  The sun was just cresting over the buildings and casting an orange glow in the room. She padded over to the window and pulled back the shades. It was a beautiful morning with not one cloud in the crystal-clear blue sky. She wanted to feel the sun on her face and breathe in the fresh air. A walk, she thought. Just a short one while Alejandro was sleeping.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed and riding the elevator downstairs. It was quiet that early in the morning, and she told herself that she would just walk down the street a little bit, get some exercise. She missed the long walks down the lane at home, whether to a neighboring farm or to visit a friend. Although, she admitted, she hadn’t had much ability to do that during the past few months since her return from Ohio.

  On the street, she looked around and decided to walk away from the sun. Cars drove by, but the roads weren’t too busy. It felt good to be alone and walking, just her thoughts to occupy her.

  She wondered at what time Alejandro had returned to the hotel. The previous evening, when he hadn’t returned by midnight, she had found her phone and couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. After struggling with it for a while, she had finally carried it downstairs to the front desk and asked someone for help. Several people had smiled at her while one man gave her a quick lesson in how to use the smartphone.

  “Just type his phone number here,” he instructed.

  “Ja vell, I don’t know his phone number,” she had replied.

  The man had tried to suppress his smile as he showed her how to find it in the contacts list on the phone. It was easy to find since it was actually the only number listed in the phone. “After you select it, just type your message using the keys.”

  “Those little things? How do I do that, then?” she asked, still not understanding what he meant.

  “Look, the easiest thing to type is a heart. Click the left bracket key and the number three. Just use your finger to push the small buttons,” the man had said.

  “Oh help,” she muttered, trying to do as he instructed. When she finally did it, she stared at the strange figure: <3. “How is that a heart?” she had asked the man.

  “Trust me,” he had laughed. “Now click ‘Send.’ That little button at the bottom.”

  “Like this?” she had asked, doing as he instructed.

  The phone made a soft pinging noise, and the man nodded. “Sent! Congratulations on sending your first text!”

  She frowned, staring at the phone. “A bracket and the number three make a heart? That seems like Englische foolishness to me,” she mumbled, still not quite understanding.

  Yet, seconds later, she had heard a louder ping and a message flashed across the screen:

  <3 back at you, Princesa.

  LOL

  V

  She started at the noise, delighted that something had happened with the phone, but as her eyes tried to decipher the message, she looked back at the man. “I don’t understand,” she said and turned the phone around so that he could read it.

  The woman behind the counter had taken the opportunity to stare over the man’s shoulder and began to giggle. “He replied to you, dear!”

  “He did?” Amanda had flipped the phone back around and stared at the message. “I can’t read that.”

  “He sent you a heart back and signed it ‘LOL,’ which means laughing out loud. I imagine the V stands for Viper,” the man had explained.

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps LOL stands for lots of love,” she teased. The man had cast a stern look at the woman and she took a step backward.

  “So it’s in code?” Amanda had asked. “How am I supposed to know what he meant, then?”

  Several of the guests were returning from their evening out and had stopped to watch the scene. They laughed at her delight in receiving a text and chuckled when they overheard her comments.

  That had been at midnight. Now it was seven in the morning, and she was alone, walking the streets of Los Angeles while he slept in, having most certainly returned home later in the early-morning hours.

  It was too beautiful of a morning to sleep in, she thought as she lifted her face to the warmth of the rising sun. Ahead of her was a park with tall palm trees and walking paths. She headed in that direction, happy to see some wide-open green spaces with pretty flowers and birds. She walked along the pebble-stone paths, listening to the crunching noise under her shoes.

  When she saw a park bench ahead, she sat down and quickly kicked off her shoes. She missed walking barefoot as she had on the farm. Shoes were too constricting, especially these that Lucinda made her wear. Chunky heels made her feel as though she was walking on her tippy-toes, and the front of the shoes pinched her toes. Barefoot is better, she thought as she leaned down to pick up her shoes.

  She carried her shoes in one hand as she walked along the path. Several early-morning joggers ran past her, most of them smiling at her and one even greeting her with a happy “Good morning!”

  It felt good to walk, unrestricted by people crowding her or wanting to take her photo. It felt even better to be outside and alone with her thoughts. She watched several squirrels foraging in the mulch under a tree. One stole a nut from another, and they began chasing each other on the ground until disappearing up the trunk of the tree.

  “Hey! Aren’t you that Amish girl?” someone asked from behind her.

  Amanda turned around, startled to see a young man and woman in jogging attire behind her. They were running in place but stopped when she faced them. At first, she didn’t respond. She hadn’t given much thought to being noticed without Alejandro beside her. He seemed to travel with crowds of people following him.

  “You are her!” The woman looked at the man beside her. “It’s her!”

  “I best be going,” Amanda mumbled and started to walk away, heading back in the direction from which she had originally come. But she could hear the people behind her talking to someone else who was walking by. Before she knew it, there was a small group of people following her, just five people, but they were murmuring and pointing at her.

  She should have known better and she berated herself as she hurried along the path. She had thought no one would notice her. She had thought she could handle being alone in a big city like Los Angeles. Now she was being followed by a small group of curious people, which, when she glanced over her shoulder, was cr
eating more of a stir among others.

  “Just one photograph!” someone called out.

  Amanda quickened her pace, fighting the urge to cry. She just wanted to get back to the hotel, back to the safety of her room. She said a quick prayer to God, hoping that he was listening and it was his will to answer.

  “Need some help, ma’am?”

  She looked up, both surprised and relieved to see a police officer walking toward her. Never in her life had she interacted with a man of the Englische law. But under the current circumstances, she was more than willing to ask for assistance. “I just want to get back to my hotel,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

  The officer glanced over her shoulder at the gathering crowd. They had stopped thirty or so feet back, but one was taking photos with his smartphone while the others whispered and pointed. “I suppose I can help get you there,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the crowd before he began to escort her in the direction she indicated.

  It took ten minutes to walk back. For Amanda, it was the longest ten minutes of her life. She didn’t want any trouble, nor did she want to cause a big scene. She had merely wanted to go for a walk, to be alone with nature for just a short time. Now she wished that she had never left the hotel.

  The officer escorted her to the front doors and, with a smile, wished her well.

  With a sigh of relief, Amanda hurried into the hotel and started to make her way across the lobby. But she felt something on her arm, a soft touch that held her back. Startled, she looked up and saw a man in a dark suit holding her arm. “Miss Beiler,” he said. “Please permit me to assist you.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he started to walk toward the elevators. She noticed that he leaned toward his shoulder and said something; then, after a brief pause, she heard the word “Affirmative.” A quick glance at his ear told her all that she needed to know: security with a wireless phone in his ear. She had seen plenty of security men at the concert the other night wearing the same earpiece.